by Gary Kloster
Untracked.
Jiri walked from one to the other, frustration adding to the fire smoldering in her heart. One passage seemed to go up. One down. The other two ran straight. The last was the one they came in, and that was the only one she could cross off.
Ignore that one. Ignore the one that runs up. Take the one that goes down? Jiri went back to the mouth of that passage. Silent, empty, bare, just like the others, no tracks, no—
The stark blue-white light from the stone she held glittered off something on the floor.
Jiri bent down and picked it up. It was a tiny crab, dead, its almost-clear shell crushed. Holding it close to her face, she could smell it, like water and fish. It hadn't been dead long.
"Morvius," she called back, staring up at the walls of the passage. "What are those crabs doing?"
"Wrestling. This one has a bigger claw, but the other's a goer, and—"
"What else?" Jiri said.
"Glowing. They've got some kind of light in their shells, like lightning bugs. Blue instead of green, though. I wonder what they taste like?"
Blue. Jiri took the light Linaria had made and wrapped it in the bottom of her shirt, covering it. The cave they were in went darker than night.
"What are you doing?" Linaria called, but Jiri was looking at the mark on the wall in front of her at waist height. A smeared blue line, with another line struck at an angle through it, glowing faintly in the dark.
"They went this way," Jiri said, certain, a sort of vicious joy blossoming out of the heat of her frustration.
"Are you sure?" Sera asked.
Oh yes. That line would be eye level for Mikki. But.
Fighting to keep herself from running down the downward-slanting passage, Jiri unwrapped the light just enough to make her way over to the other tunnels. At the mouth of each passage she covered it again and stared at the walls. Nothing, nothing—then, at the second level passage, another mark. A blue line, glowing much brighter, and without the second line crossing it.
They came in from one of the other passages and tried the downward one first. It must not have worked, so they came back and did this one. They don't know the way either, and now we're on their trail.
"Here," she said, pulling out the light. "They went this way, not too long ago."
"Didn't you just say—" Morvius started.
"They went this way, not so long ago," Jiri said, each word a snarl, pointing at the passage.
"Ten hells, runt, all right. That way."
Linaria came up to Jiri, touching her arm before she could start down the passage. "How close are they?"
Jiri shook her head. "I can't say for sure. Close enough to hope, but we have to hurry."
"Let me go first, then. I can see in the dark better than any of you, and we can keep the light back so we don't warn them."
"You sure that's a good idea?" Morvius said. "If we get ambushed, you're not good toe to toe."
"And Jiri is?" Linaria asked.
"Nothing personal to Jiri, but I care a hell of a lot more about your ass than hers."
"How sweet," Linaria said. "But—"
"I'll be with her," Jiri said. She looked up at Linaria. "You watch, I'll listen. I trust you to keep me from walking into walls or over cliffs."
Linaria nodded. "It does keep the noisy ones behind us."
"Noisy?" said Morvius. "Who's noisy? Our armor—"
"Is probably not what she's talking about," Sera said. "Are we going?"
Jiri nodded, her hands itching with heat, and started down the tunnel.
∗ ∗ ∗
They wound down into the earth, moving through darkness.
If she looked back, Jiri could see the light that Morvius carried, like a bright star behind them, but it did nothing to break the shadows that surrounded her and Linaria. The half-elf moved confidently, though, and she kept a hand on Jiri's back, guiding her. It's no different from traveling through the jungle at night, Jiri thought. Except for the silence. That surrounded them, heavy as the darkness, broken only by their breathing, the soft scrape of Jiri's feet and Linaria's boots against the stone, and the constant drip of water.
They passed a few more of the glowing marks, the guts of those poor little crabs crushed against the walls. Every time they followed one that wasn't crossed out, Jiri felt better. Every false turn Patima took meant they were gaining on her, and Jiri moved as fast as Linaria would let her, eyes straining in the darkness, listening. Listening, and what was that?
Linaria's hand closed on Jiri's collar, bringing her up short. Jiri felt the woman shift beside her, felt her lips almost brush her ear as she whispered.
"There's light up ahead."
"I think I hear something, too." Jiri strained her ears, but Linaria's whisper had overwhelmed them. "Maybe."
"I think the tunnel curves. We'll go that far and see what we see."
Linaria started forward, hand light on Jiri's back. They crept up the passage, and Jiri could see the light now, could start to see the shape of the walls ahead of her. She did hear something: a voice, sharp and grating.
"Corrianne," she whispered to Linaria, and the half-elf's grip tightened for a moment on her in acknowledgment. They slipped forward along the tunnel's curve until they could finally see around it.
The passage dropped down a steep slope, getting larger as it fell. The walls pulled back and the ceiling rose, its top lost again in shadow. Then the cave ended in a rippling wall of stone, a mass of columns that had grown together, completely blocking the passage except for one opening, a low, carved arch with two statues flanking it. Two women, their hands raised in warning, twins to the statue that Thirty Trees had named the Mango Woman. Their faces were stern, their frowns carved deep into their stone, as if they could see what stood before them.
Corrianne still wore the dress she'd had on in Kibwe, its black silk tattered, its long skirts covered in mud. "—trapped in her insanity," she whined. "What profit is there for us, even if she succeeds?"
"If she destroys Usaro?" Amiro stood not far from Corrianne, using a rag to scrub dried mud from his armor. A ragged semicircle of skeletons crouched before him, short things with gaping eye sockets and strangely hinged jaws—the bones of biloko, pulled together into a parody of life by Amiro's prayers. One of them held a heavy staff, its end glowing with golden light. "Quite a lot. What kind of treasure do you think the Gorilla King has amassed over the centuries?"
"You don't really think she'll do it, do you?" Corrianne said.
"It seems unlikely," Amiro said. "But there's a chance, and the payoff is worth the gamble. I think it more likely that she'll end up destroying Kibwe."
"Yes, but why would we want that?"
"Kibwe's the center of a growing trade network, which makes it valuable to the Consortium. But it's also a center of tribalism and entrenched power." Amiro shook out his cloth. "If it were destroyed, trade would be disrupted, but there would be an opening for a new power to take over this part of the Expanse."
"If they were poised to sweep in after the destruction." Corrianne made a face. "I'd lose all my dresses, though."
"There will be money for new dresses if that happens."
"And if Patima fails, and that thing kills her?"
"Always a chance. Why do you think we're doing guard duty out here?" Amiro bent over to study one of his skeletons. "We'll wait until her ashes have cooled, then go get that ugly carving. It will fetch a price big enough to make this all worth our while."
"Always doing the math, aren't you, Amiro?" Corrianne purred. "That's why I put up with you." She stepped closer to the man, ignoring the skeletons as they shifted, watching her with their empty sockets. Her hand rose to rest on Amiro's arm. "We would sell that thing, but what about the rest of her equipment?"
Amiro took one small step away, just enough to leave Corrianne's hand hanging in the air. "You know our rules, Corrianne. You want that amulet, you can have it. If you pay the rest of us for it."
Corrianne's fac
e went sulky. "It's always about the coin, isn't it? That's the only way you know how to tell who's winning." She pulled her hand back and stared into the shadows. "Money isn't the only kind of power."
Following the mage's gaze, Jiri realized something crouched in those shadows. Something hunched and huge, its vague outline ragged with fur, small eyes gleaming like blood in the light it shunned.
∗ ∗ ∗
"Amiro, six biloko skeletons, Corrianne, and..." Jiri looked at Linaria, standing between Sera and Morvius.
"Some kind of demon. Big as the swamp one we fought, but not the same. This one looked like an ape, with horns and something wrong with its chest. I couldn't really see." Linaria shook her head. "Damn Patima and that damn amulet of hers."
"Baregara," Sera said. "A creature of the Abyss. They have another mouth in the center of their chests."
"Have you ever fought one?" Morvius asked.
"No," the paladin said, and there was an edge of anticipation in her voice. "They're supposed to be very dangerous."
"Marvelous." Morvius stared down at the rocks Jiri had arranged on the floor of the passage, a crude map of what she and Linaria had seen. "Patima set them there to block us, so she must have found the place she wants to be. She's buying herself time to do this binding thing Jiri told us about. We go in there and they'll go on the defensive, summoning everything they can, slowing us down, giving her time while they try to kill us off."
"Can we get by them?" Jiri asked.
"Do you know another path?" Morvius asked. When Jiri shook her head, he nodded. "Didn't think so, and we don't have the time to look for one. And it's not like we can sneak by them."
"Not all of us," Sera said. "But one of us might, while the others engage them." Her brown eyes were on Jiri.
"Maybe," Jiri said. "Maybe I could get by." If I just ran and left you behind. Like Oza. "But Patima is stronger than me." It hurt to say the truth, but she had to. "And we haven't seen Mikki yet."
"Mikki is probably hiding somewhere in that chamber, waiting to ambush us," Morvius said. "Patima. Well, she should be involved in whatever ceremony she's attempting. She may be vulnerable, and you might not even have to fight her. Just throw her off, delay her. Kick over her magic candles, or piss on her ceremonial circle. Whatever it takes to stop her until we can get through."
"If we can get through," Linaria said, staring down at the stone that represented the baregara.
"That's my line," Morvius said. He frowned down at the stones. "We have surprise, at least. They may have set up guards, but from the way you said Amiro and Corrianne were chatting, I don't think they really expect us. If we hit Corrianne hard and fast, take her out before she can cast, we might have a chance. That demon, though...If we had some way to slow it down, keep it off us...Why haven't you learned how to summon monsters out of thin air yet, Linaria? All of our enemies seem to be able to do it."
"I can," Jiri said.
"Yeah, I liked the frog, but I don't think it's going to cut it this time," Morvius said. "We need something bigger."
"I think, this time, I can summon something bigger." Jiri thought through the magic she had bargained from the spirits, and decided she could do this. No matter how dangerous it was.
"We'll just need something for our ears."
Chapter Twenty-One
Scald
Jiri stopped, gasping for air.
Just ahead, the cave curved, and over the hammering of her heart she thought she could hear the mutter of voices. A little closer and they'll see my light. I have to time this just right. Forcing herself to breathe, to be calm, she gathered in a spell that she had bargained away from a spider spirit back in that empty village near Kibwe. She stood still and let the magic settle into her skin and bones, then looked back the way she had come.
Where are you? Come on. Jiri held up the light her magic had made, the glowing stone that Morvius had carefully wrapped cloth around so that only one side shone. Come on.
The passage behind her was empty, silent, and Jiri hissed between her teeth.
"Come on, you cursed thing! Aren't you hungry?" She whispered the words, but she stomped as she did, driving her bare foot into the floor. "Your ancestors look down and laugh at your misery, and when you die they'll feed your festering spirit to the ghosts of jackals!" Jiri stomped again, and the sweat on her skin began to steam, taking the heat from her anger, her terror.
Then she felt it. A tremor in the passage as if something huge were dragging itself toward her.
That's it. Come get me. Jiri forced down her terror. Her eyes swung to the side of the corridor and found the crevice where the others were hiding, somewhere in the dark out of sight, strips of cloth wrapped over their ears. The tunnel shook again, and at the limit of Jiri's light, something moved, slithering across the floor like a snake.
Jiri glanced one more time at the place where her friends were hidden, then turned toward where Corrianne, Amiro, and the demon waited.
Alone.
To Oza, and to any other honored ancestor who's watching, let this work. Jiri let her prayer go, ripped away the cloth she had tied around her ears, and started forward, just fast enough to stay ahead of the thing that pursued her.
∗ ∗ ∗
"Stop!"
Amiro's shout filled the tall passage, and Jiri wasn't sure if the command was meant for her or Corrianne. But she stumbled to a halt, and the mage dropped her hand, the sparks of light that flickered around it like tiny bits of lightning going dim.
"It's Piss Girl," Corrianne said. "What are you doing here? Did you miss us?" Her hands began to move, as if starting to shape another spell. "Did you miss my snake?"
"Save your magic," Amiro told her. "Morvius and the others can't be far." The skeletons around him moved, fanning out across the cave floor.
"No," Jiri said. "They wouldn't come. They don't understand. You don't understand." She raised her empty hands toward them, trying to keep her attention on them and not the crimson eyes of the demon that crouched in the shadows. "I didn't come here to fight you. I came here to tell you that Patima is lying. She can't control that thing. All-in-Ashes is going to burn the whole Expanse if she tries this."
"What a terrible loss for the leeches," Corrianne said. "Can I kill her now? I have plenty of spells."
"No," Amiro said, his eyes never leaving Jiri and the cave behind her. "You might not have come to fight us, Jiri. However, the companion Patima left us knows nothing except fighting." As he spoke, the gleaming sparks of the demon's eyes began to move, the thing stepping forward into the light.
The demon had the rough shape of a gorilla, but it was much larger. It moved like a gorilla, too, knuckle-walking forward on thick arms and bandy legs. But its shaggy fur was red as blood, gleaming like its eyes, and two great horns twisted out of its head, wider and sharper than a buffalo's. Amiro's skeletons scurried out of the demon's way and the beast stopped before Jiri, staring down at her, its lips pulling back to bare rows of sharp teeth.
Now. Come now. Please. NOW!
The baregara reared up in front of her, standing on its hind legs. Its huge fists swung in and beat on its chest, a chest whose ribs drove out of the pale red skin like white thorns, making a thicket of spikes around a pulsing, circular maw filled with hooked teeth. The demon roared from both mouths as its hands slammed into its chest, and that twin bellow filled Jiri's head. She hunched underneath that avalanche of sound, forcing herself not to break and run.
The demon pounded its fists down, lowered its horned head, and charged.
Jiri couldn't stay still in the face of the ugly death that was tearing at her, but as she threw herself to the side she knew she wouldn't be fast enough. The demon was already shifting its charge, one clawed hand reaching out for her, ready to scoop her up and pull her to its teeth, and Jiri's desperate roll across the cave's floor ended against a wall.
Then the demon roared again.
Not in triumph, but in pain.
Jiri felt the f
loor shake as the demon hit it. Looking up, she could see the thick vine that had wound itself around one of the baregara's horns, using it as a handle to twist the monster to the ground. She watched the vine jerk the demon forward, and the grating of the red ape-thing's teeth against the stone floor almost drowned out the thin, high-pitched sound of the umdhlebi's song.
She shoved herself back against the wall, gritting her teeth against the compulsion she knew was buried in that song. She resisted it, and watched the umdhlebi slither into the room. Slow but inexorable, thank the spirits. When Jiri had gone back to it, had stumbled away from it, pretending to be hurt, it had followed her, its hunger driving it. Followed her here, and thank the spirits again the monstrous plant had gone for the largest prey it could reach. Its thick vines lashed out, wrapping around the baregara, catching it by the wrist and neck. The demon roared, the mouth in its chest booming while the one on its head choked. It reached out with its free hand and grabbed at the vine looped around its neck, jerking it down so the teeth of its chest mouth could tear at its heavy bark, slowed only a little by the long thorns. The vine ripped in two, the stumps of it bleeding a thick yellow sap.
Coughing, roaring, the baregara threw itself on the umdhlebi, tearing thick, woody chunks from its body as more vines wrapped around the demon, thorns tearing through its red fur and spilling the ape-thing's reeking white blood.
Go now. While it still holds the demon. The thought echoed through Jiri's head until it finally made sense, and she tore her eyes away from the massive fight in front of her. Spinning around, she pressed her hands against the wall she had rolled against and began to climb.
The spider spirit's magic ran strong in her. Her hands and feet clung to the wall, and she moved up the stone quickly, putting as much distance between herself and the fight raging below her as she could. Looking over her shoulder, she could see Amiro and Corrianne below. The mage was looking up at her, shouting something that was lost in the demon's roars, but Amiro was staring at the fight, his face slack, swaying in time to the shrill music that still spilled from the umdhlebi.