The Ravens of Death (Tsun-Tsun TzimTzum Book 4)

by Mike Truk

  An alien tower speared up from its center, rising perhaps twenty stories tall, slender like a silver needle. The higher up the slopes I looked, the grander the buildings, until at last I gazed upon what looked like a temple complex. Several levels of polished stone were connected by broad ramps, decorated by statues on pedestals, ornate archways, pools of water; and finally, the temple itself, which looked for all the world like the Parthenon back home.

  “That’s where Khalistria resides,” whispered Khandros, pointing toward the complex, “along with most of her wardens. Don’t be deceived. The complex is said to descend deep into the earth, each level revealing another, where treasures and horrors are stored in equal measure.”

  “Sounds lovely,” said Brielle. “And that tower?”

  “The Druach tower?” Khandros considered the silver needle. “New construction. A decade old. It’s where their airships dock when they punch through from other worlds.”

  “No airship now,” I said.

  “No,” agreed Khandros. “They come rarely to Aegeria, though the Druach have agents here. But no matter, let us focus on the challenge at hand: the city gates will be closed, so we’ll make camp and approach at dawn. Join the stream of farmers and traders who cross the isle to make use of the markets, and with a little luck slip inside Argossy without much trouble.”

  I rubbed at my jawline. “You really think we’ll pass as traders?”

  I could see the flash of Khandros’s white teeth as he grinned. “Once our story would have been suspect. But in this cosmopolitan age, when Morathi and others from far worlds walk our shores in great numbers? Especially here, in Argossy, with its own Druach tower? We have a good chance of being left alone. You will wield authority for appearing as an outsider. With enough confidence, you will convince the guards to leave you well enough alone, lest they make the mistake of bothering important outsiders returning from a survey of the island’s hinterlands.”

  “We’ll enact our plan come dawn,” I said. “But for now, we should rest up. Tomorrow’s going to be long.”

  Imogen dropped to a knee, placing her hand upon the ground. A moment later she looked up, the moonlight flashing off the lens of her broken glasses. “There’s an abandoned hut not far from here. One wall has fallen in, but otherwise, it seems sound. Also, a small gulley a few hundred yards back the way we came. Sandy bottom. Might be where flash floods flow through after a heavy rain.”

  “The gulley,” said Khandros. “Any building, no matter how ruined, might be checked by Khalistria’s seers over the course of the night.”

  “I knew I’d miss Emelias’s estate,” said Brielle, hitching her pack higher up her shoulder. “I just didn’t realize I’d miss it so soon.”

  “Once a spoiled princess, always a spoiled princess,” said Valeria with a smile.

  “It’s not my fault I appreciate the finer things in life,” said Brielle with a sniff. “Had you not been raised in a stable, you might do the same.”

  “Best we get going,” I said to Khandros, “before this gets out of hand.”

  “I was raised in a nunnery,” said Valeria. “Yes, our rooms were simple, but then so were our needs. And now, unlike some, I can go a night without a feather mattress and silk sheets.”

  “As can the beasts in the field,” said Brielle, “but you don’t see me envying their simplicity.”

  We began to follow Imogen as she led the way back down the far side of the ridge.

  “Say what you will,” said Valeria. “But who will be smiling in her sleep an hour from now, while the other twists and curses?”

  “I know, I know,” said Brielle. “Alas. My sophistication is my own burden. At least I carry it graciously, and in doing so, inspire others to greatness.”

  I couldn’t help but grin as I watched Valeria shake her head in disbelief.

  “Best give it up,” said Emma from the back of the group. “You’ve stumbled into Brielle’s arena of death. The only way to survive is to lie down and place your hands on your head.”

  “I never give up,” said Valeria. “Especially not to delicate princesses.”

  “Then it was nice knowing you,” said Emma with a snort. “Though I thought you advised me before to always pick the right weapon for the fight?”

  “You’re right,” said Valeria. “I should be arguing my point with an ax.”

  “Peace,” I said. “Have we all forgotten we’re in enemy territory? Let’s simmer down and focus on getting to our campsite before axing each other.”

  Imogen led us with the confidence of someone who’d grown up amongst these hills to the gulley, and there we scrambled down the rocky sides to the sandy bottom.

  “The walls are steep enough that we could light a fire and not be seen,” said Valeria, glancing up at the star-smeared sky above us.

  “Best not risk it,” I said. “I’ll take first watch. We’ve only six, maybe five hours till dawn. We’ll take it in two-hour shifts. Valeria, you good to go after me?”

  The blond warrior nodded as she unstrapped her bedroll from the bottom of her pack. “You know it.”

  “Then catch some sleep, everyone. Who knows when next we’ll be able to rest?”

  The crew was seasoned, and in perhaps five minutes the gulley was silent but for the dark shapes packed tightly together along the gulley floor. I found a nook halfway up one side where I could sit and observe both approaches to our spot. The night was silent, the air chill, but my skin felt warm still from the days spent in the sun.

  There was silence but for the occasional cry of an animal close by. My cloak smelled of the sea. Only the passage of the moon keyed me into how much time had passed. My thoughts chased themselves ceaselessly, just as they had done aboard Senca’s ship. Finally, I rose, awoke Valeria, and slipped into her warm bedroll. I bundled my cloak beneath my head, but instead of falling asleep, lay staring into the dark.

  Something was troubling me.

  What?

  I closed my eyes, sinking deep into my reservoir.

  I descended down past the slumbering emerald mass of Anahata, past the closed glory of Manipura. Reaching the center of the golden filament from which lines extended to the closed apertures of my companions, I hovered there.

  I studied the burning lines that led to Emma, Brielle, and Imogen, then followed, instead, the one that led to Neveah’s portal, willing it to open.

  Steeling myself, I peered within.

  There she floated, curled up into a ball, Morghothilim plunged through her chest. Her black hair was a corona about her naked form, all of which was near smothered by the corruption that coagulated about her.

  Neveah, I pulsed at her. Neveah, can you hear me?

  Nothing.

  I bit my lower lip. The corruption had to be keeping her from hearing me. Or was she choosing not to respond? Where was she? Had she managed to follow us to the islands? Was she still trapped back in Ur-Gharab? How would we coordinate and meet-up? How could I cleanse her of this taint, restore her to her original power and purity?

  I don’t know for how long I hung there, but finally, I floated back, allowing the aperture to close.

  I drifted down to Muladhara, crossing my legs and forcing myself to relax as I focused on that great flower. My original sanskara, the source of my security and ability to defend myself. I strained myself to go over Imogen’s meditation techniques until my power flowed down into the sanskara’s great heart, which unfurled, petals peeling back, revealing that bed of teeming rubies.

  A great and powerful wave of safety and love washed over me, a primal state of wellbeing. Tension bled away. Questions I couldn’t answer grew silent. I lost myself in the process of refining and cleansing my magic, until at last, I was simply cycling pure magic back into its ruby heart.

  When I opened my eyes, I felt better, but still my gaze strayed to Neveah’s aperture. Even Muladhara couldn’t remove my doubts.

  With a sigh, I released my reservoir, and simply stared at the inside of my eyeli
ds. Lying there, I could feel the stones beneath Valeria’s bedroll. They didn’t bother me any. I suppose I was becoming one of Brielle’s beasts of the field.

  I waited, but sleep refused to come. I hovered in that deep darkness, which slowly resolved itself into a dull, endless plain, a desert of umber stretching away beneath a maroon sky. All of it was barely intelligible in the darkness, but over it two blazing eyes opened, each as vast as the moon, to gaze down at me in consideration.

  The owl eyes, the witness to my struggles, the force of nature to which I’d appealed numerous times throughout my journey, despite the sense of cruel disdain they gave. The eyes of a predator surveying its prey.

  I gazed fearlessly up at those eyes.

  Are you the Source?

  There was no response. The eyes began to fade away.

  What are you? I tried to float toward them, but though I moved, my comprehension of the distance proved illusory. The eyes remained far and vast, so I felt like someone trying to reach the moon by leaping into the sky.

  They withdrew further, growing dim.

  Can you help Neveah? Can you help me cleanse her?

  Then they paused, as if in the act of turning away. Focusing once more, they narrowed, considering me.

  I felt like a mouse who had dared squeak to draw the attention of a great barn owl.

  Help us, I said. I’ll do anything to cleanse her.

  It spoke not, but my words seemed to hang in the air as if questioned and probed by those eyes. Then I felt a sudden rush of emotions, and the eyes were gone.

  I was left quivering and alone in that endless dark, trying to parse what had just happened, what I’d just felt. Amusement? More cruel disdain? Curiosity? Or had I imagined it all?

  I opened my eyes, staring up at the stars.

  I’d never told anybody about those eyes, I realized. Not even Imogen. Why not? Tomorrow I would. I’d find a moment to ask her what she knew about them.

  So resolved, I finally fell into a slumber, deep and dreamless.

  * * *

  Khandros awoke us just before dawn, shaking me awake by the shoulder before moving to where Brielle lay. I rose, rubbing my eyes clear, then sat with the others in a silent circle, chewing on strips of cured salted mutton and dried fruit. Ten minutes later, we were marching down the ridge toward the road that led to one of the city gates, already busy with traffic.

  It consisted of carts, mostly, laden with vegetables for the markets, but a fair number of travelers on foot were also in evidence, most of them walking in small groups like ours.

  We paused just before stepping onto the road so Brielle, Valeria, and Emma could draw forth scarves that the women of Elleria had gifted them, and cover their hair. We’d exchanged our woolen cloaks for ones of local cut; though we’d never pass close scrutiny, from a distance I hoped we’d not stand out too badly.

  Khandros watched for an opening in traffic, leading us down the bank and out onto the road. It was unnerving to be out in the open, to be marching directly toward Argossy, but I forced myself to not glance around wildly. Instead, we walked calmly down the center of the road, talking idly to each other as we drew close to the line of traffic bottlenecked at the gate.

  A tax was being paid by everyone entering the city, and Khandros patted his money pouch, winking at me as we drew close.

  There was no conversation. Imogen was supposedly keeping pace with us a score of yards off the road, keeping out of sight; the plan was for her to use Harmiel at the last moment to slip into the city.

  What could go wrong?

  The road was more of a sandy causeway that wound its way through a final jumble of boulders. Some of the mounds were easily thirty feet high, amongst which an impromptu market had sprung up to cater to the waiting travelers. Fringed awnings were strung overhead from rocks to afford shade to those in line before select booths, while cooking fires roasted delicacies, and common fare was placed on tables to tempt customers. Cypress trees grew along the way, and bright flowers tumbled down the rock faces, the smell of their blooms filling the air, mingling with the aromas of honeyed meat and the tang of dust.

  We inched forward, scrutinized at every step; vendors watched us with narrowed eyes, while a patrol of guards who walked up and down the line nearly paused when they passed us by. They only resumed their walk when Khandros loudly asked if they wished to buy some of his wares.

  I wasn’t worried about a guard patrol. I wasn’t worried about the vendors, or the other travelers before and behind us that had begun to study us more closely.

  I was worried about the practitioners of Hexenmagic. Morathi, who might read our minds or scry on us from a distance, who could even now be sounding the alarm and moving their people into place to spring a lethal ambush.

  Finally, the archway of the main gate loomed over us. The walls were built of white stone, crenelated at the top. The street beyond seemed exactly that which we’d just passed through, so the wall seemed almost arbitrarily placed - more stalls, more trees, more boulders.

  There were a dozen guards in attendance. They wore breastplates and armored skirts, held spears, and had shields slung over their shoulders. I studied them carefully as we drew close; they appeared at ease, bored even, and from this, I drew comfort.

  Khandros stepped up when it was our turn.

  “Blessings upon you,” he said energetically. “May the sun always warm your backs and the waves guide you to your destinations.”

  “Name and purpose in the city?” drawled the guard, looking him up and down indifferently.

  “Khandros of Elleria, returning from an exploratory circle of Argos in the hopes of drumming up new sources of goods to trade. My brother Senca is at the docks, awaiting my return.”

  The guard pursed his lips, then slid his gaze to the rest of us. “And them?”

  “Associates from another world.” We had agreed ahead of time to not attempt a disguise our origins. We’d never pass as locals. “Interested in the same. I gave them a tour of the island, showed them the quality of the olive oil, the wines. They are well pleased, and hopefully, we shall soon be negotiating terms.”

  “Another world, hmm?” The guard didn’t seem impressed. “Do you have your papers, then, giving you rights to travel freely?”

  Khandros froze, his smile growing strained, then he laughed. “We had them! But an accident with a bottle of wine - you know how it is. Surely there is no trouble?”

  “If you do not have your papers, I must refer it to my captain. He will decide what happens next.”

  The man was about to turn away, perhaps to call for another, when Khandros touched his elbow.

  “Excuse my curiosity. But I recognize that spearhead. The double-cut at the top. Did you perhaps acquire it during the war against the Hemostii?”

  The guard paused, eyes narrowing. “And if I did?”

  “I thought so. Where did you serve?”

  “On the Effregian coast.”

  “Under General Pyloras? I was there as well, in the Vantrian Guard.”

  The guard turned back. “You’re a Vantrian? Well, well.” He paused, considering. “You take part in the siege of Three Hills?”

  “Of course not!” Khandros’s smile grew wider. “How could I, when that dung heap of a Hemostii general surrendered immediately?”

  The guard smirked. “Indeed, indeed.”

  “Listen. For old times’ sake, let me cut you in on the deal I am about to make. There is no need to tangle this matter up in bureaucracy and waste everybody’s time. Find Senca’s ship down at the docks when you come off duty, and we’ll arrange something to everybody’s satisfaction.”

  The guard considered.

  Khandros’s smile was practically a weapon.

  At last, the man nodded. “No sense in causing unnecessary trouble. Very well. Perhaps I’ll find you at the docks later for a drink.”

  “Excellent, excellent, the rounds will be on me.” Khandros’s smile somehow widened, and he gestured to the
rest of us to follow. “Until then, my friend!”

  “Until then,” said the guard, stepping aside so we could file past.

  Heart pounding, not yet believing our luck, we followed Khandros through the gate and were almost through when another figure stepped in our way.

  This was no guard, but rather a slight, elderly man in a rich tunic of deep purple, edged with geometric patterns in yellow. His pate was balding, his hair ivory, but his eyes were shrewd as he raised a wrinkled palm to stop our guide.

  “A moment, good sir,” said the man, voice reedy and thin.

  “Can I help you?” asked Khandros, clearly frustrated but doing his best to hide it.

  “No, I don’t think you can. I have come to deliver a message, is all, from our most illustrious queen and ruler, Khalistria.”

  My heart, which had been pounding moments before, seemed to seize up as my blood ran cold.

  Valeria began to step out wide as Brielle dropped her hand to the hilt of her blade.

  “Now, now, there’s no need for alarm,” said the man, smiling coldly. “A simple message is all, and we can be on our way. She welcomes you to her fair city, and bids you enjoy its riches. But she invites you to attend her tonight in her temple and will be most disappointed if you fail to come. Or attempt to attend, for the temple grounds may prove perilous to you and your companions. Still, you are brave, bold, and young, are you not? Surely a few hindrances won’t deter your ardor to please her.”

  With that, he gave a shallow bow, then turned to walk away, hands linked behind his back.

  Khandros stood frozen, dumbfounded, and it fell on me to clap his shoulder as I walked by, leading my companions out of the gateway.

  A few minutes later, we gathered on a side street under a large palm tree growing in the corner of a tiny market.

  “And I thought things were going so well,” said Little Meow.

  “Too well,” said Valeria. “Where did we go wrong?”

  “My friends, I am so sorry,” said Khandros. He appeared genuinely distraught. “I truly believed this the best way to approach. I -”