by Martha Wells
He walked out on the bridge, mindful of the gusty wind, but it didn't feel strong enough to knock him off. The monk and Rastim followed carefully. Rian stopped at about the middle.
From this angle he could see round buildings, each like a giant bowl of dark grey pottery set bottom-up, stood in a line on the outskirts as if forming a boundary to the rest of the city. Fortresses? he thought, trying to puzzle it out. He supposed archers could fire on approaching troops through the small windows if they had to, but it wasn't practical. Maybe that was just the way these people put their cities together. Maybe the Kushorit cities with their straight lines and canals and avenues would appear just as baffling to them. If those cities were still there, Rian reminded himself. Bastards.
The monk Aren grabbed his arm suddenly and pointed. "There."
Rian looked. The man was pointing at the domed building with the horn-shaped spires. There was a broad avenue leading away from it toward the west, the only approach to it Rian could see. He started to ask the monk if he thought the structure was some sort of temple, then he realized what the man was actually pointing at. There were openings high in the dome and out of one of them poured something that looked like a distortion in the air.
"Those things, the clouds that came to the temple last night." The monk spoke so softly Rian could barely hear him over the wind.
And they were coming this way. "Down," he snapped.
Rastim yelped and dropped like a rock, covering his head. Rian and the monk crouched down behind the low balustrade. A sound rose above the wind, a low howling tone. It grew louder and Rian and the monk exchanged a grimace. The creatures were flying right toward them.
Rian risked a look. "Another attack. Do you see it, Maskelle?" The blurring in the air grew rapidly larger as it drew closer. Heart pounding, Rian pressed himself against the low wall.
"She sees it. Surely she sees it," Rastim muttered. He wet his lips nervously, looking around as if he hoped to see a convenient shelter spring up somewhere. "What do we do?"
"Don't move," the monk advised fervently.
The high thin howl that was unpleasantly familiar from last night grew louder, but it was high overhead. Then the tone changed and it faded into the distance toward the Marai. "Maskelle, did you see it?" he asked again.
I saw, her voice said in his ear. I have to help the others now. I won’t be with you for a while.
"All right." Rian got to his feet, brushing his dusty hands off on his dustier pants.
"She heard you?" Rastim asked cautiously, still huddling by the balustrade.
"Yes. She said she wouldn't be watching us while she deals with the attack. Didn't you hear her?" Sometimes Rastim had been able to hear Maskelle's spirit voice, sometimes not. It seemed to unnerve the Ariaden, and it might be that he was somehow unintentionally blocking it.
"Not that time." Rastim got to his feet, looking nervously toward the Marai. "The barrier will hold, won't it?"
"It will hold," the monk said firmly.
"If it doesn't..." Rastim was still staring bleakly at the temple.
"Rastim..." Rian threw his arms in the air in exasperation. "If it doesn't hold, we're all dead. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"Sorry, sorry." The Ariaden shook himself briskly and shouldered his pack. "Being dramatic, force of habit. Let's go."
"Thank you." Rian started away. If they came all this way and found nothing, then returned to the Marai to find nothing... At least now they had a goal.
They climbed back down, the loose stone making it far more awkward than the trip up. Once there, he told the others briefly what they had seen.
"Well?" Rian asked when he had finished. "We could go back and report to the others, or push on and look over that place ourselves. We're so far out that if we return to the temple first, we wouldn't be able to get back out here before dark."
"Another day here," one of them muttered.
Rian felt the same way. "So we push on?" There were general nods, and no grumbling or outright fear, though Rian supposed they were all as terrified as he was.
"What's the worst that could happen?" Rastim declared as they made their way to the door. "They could turn us into those stone creatures we saw last night."
"They looked as much like people as they looked like monkeys," Rian objected. "That doesn't count." The game—which they had been playing off and on through the day—was "most horrible thing that can happen." Rian had thought he was good at anticipating the worst, but Rastim was winning hands down. He hoped the others in their group were enjoying his defeat. He said, "All right, all right, I give up. Why don't you tell us a play?"
Rastim took the victory in good part, launching into the plot of an elaborate kiradi play about warring noble families. Rian found himself relieved that Rastim had made the decision to come along; it would have been easy to go mad out here with nothing to think about but the consequences of failure. Maybe that’s what happened to the people who built this place. They had built their palaces and stripped the world bare with the effort of it, then gone mad in the solitude, leaving only demons behind them. A nice idea, but it didn't explain Marada, or how they had built the Second Wheel.
***
"Damn it," Maskelle whispered. She didn't need the distraction.
"Maskelle?" Killia's voice invaded her trance. "We found him."
She opened her eyes and stood, shaking out her robes. The Ariaden and Karuda were standing just inside the curtain. Maskelle said, "The flying things are coming back. We'll have to hurry." She had sent Killia and the other Ariaden to find Karuda, who had been directing the search for Gisar and seeing to the temple's defenses.
Karuda stared at her. "Another attack?" he asked sharply.
"I'll let you deal with them in a moment. I only need you to tell me one thing." She pushed past them out into the gallery, telling Killia, "Warn the Temple Master there's an attack coming."
As she hurried away, Maskelle started across the court to the central tower. Karuda followed, his expression baffled. "That wasn't why you summoned me?"
"No. I need to ask you something." She led him under the arch into the central tower, and Karuda, suddenly realizing she was leading him to the inner chamber, halted abruptly in the foyer.
Maskelle turned impatiently and he gestured at the carvings on the wall. "Are you sure—"
"Come on," she snapped.
Just inside Vigar waited. The other Voices were arrayed around the Wheel of the Infinite in meditation positions, their concentration and the soft low murmur of their chant forming a second barrier around the Wheel. The final repair had been completed on the Rite late last night, and since then it waited only for the destruction of their enemies' Wheel before it could be initiated.
Maskelle met Vigar's skeptical gaze as she stepped aside and motioned for Karuda to enter the chamber. She had had only a few moments to tell Vigar her theory, impatient as she was to get back to Rian and Rastim. Vigar had thought she was wrong. Not the first time for that, she thought.
Karuda stopped again, this time struck by the effect that the Wheel had even on those not well attuned to the Infinite. Maskelle looked closely at him and what she saw on his face made her heart clench. The Wheel of the Infinite wasn't kept deliberately concealed, but its fragility meant that few besides the Voices and the others attached to the Marai ever saw it.
Karuda's expression in the candlelight was more startled than awed.
Certain she was right, Maskelle took his arm and drew him nearer, past Vigar, almost to the edge of the invisible barrier formed by the other Voices. She remembered Rian saying that they should discover who had chosen that house for Marada, so advantageously placed near the canal that formed the direct line between the Baran Dir and the Marai. She had assumed it had been Raith. One wrong assumption which had led to disaster. "Have you ever seen the like of this before?" she asked.
Karuda nodded and Vigar hissed under his breath in shock and deep anger. His eyes met Maskelle's and she kn
ew the chief Voice was her ally in this, whatever came next. Maskelle looked at Karuda again and asked quietly, "Where?"
***
The sky was starting to take on that tinge of dark purple that had marked the arrival of dusk yesterday, when they reached the avenue that led up to the horned building. Rian leaned around the corner for a cautious look. It was about as wide as one of the Kushorit processional avenues, and was lined with tall imposing structures with many balconies and galleries on their upper levels. There was a huge doorway in the bottom of the horned building, large enough for an animate manifestation of one of the giant Kushorit statues to comfortably stroll through, but Rian didn't want to approach it so directly. They would have to work their way down behind this row of structures and come at it from a side or back entrance.
It wasn't that far from the Marai, so they wouldn't have a long trip back. He glanced around at the others. Rastim looked weary and a little white around the eyes and the others appeared exhausted as well. Rian was too accustomed to long days of travel or hunting to be very tired, but walking on the unyielding stone for so long was making his feet hurt.
He moved back to where the others waited and motioned them to follow. They made their way down behind the row and finally to a round structure that flanked the horned building. The wind whipped around the curving wall, blowing dust into Rian's eyes and tearing at his hair. Rian winced away and Rastim coughed and scrubbed at his face with his sleeve.
As they cleared the wall, Rian saw the side of the horned building was badly damaged. There was a great crack in the dark stone that had torn an opening at street level. It looked as if it had been struck by lightning, or a siege engine.
The opening was almost choked with rubble, but there was just enough room for them to scramble through. Rian paused as his eyes adapted to the dark, then he froze, a cold prickle creeping up his spine.
At the far end of the ruined chamber was a doorway into a corridor, apparently unharmed by whatever had collapsed this side of the building. Along the wall were a series of bowl-shaped lamps with flames burning in their center. "I think we found the right place," someone muttered from behind him.
There was a general murmur of agreement. "I want a look down that corridor," Rian said. "Then we'll take the word back to the others."
"Good," Rastim said under his breath.
They started to work their way across the ruined chamber. A low, mournful howl echoed from somewhere. It sounded like wind moaning through a cavern, but here there was no telling. I hope it’s the wind, Rian thought, taking a deep breath.
"I'm going to write a play about this," Rastim declared, keeping his voice low.
From his tone Rian could tell he had heard the sound, too. But he only said, "Good for you. Are you going to include the part where you almost wet yourself when the flying creatures went by overhead?"
Rastim snorted. "What do you mean 'almost'?"
Rian bit his lip to keep from laughing. They were keeping their voices low from instinct; he didn't think anything would be able to hear them over the hiss of the dust against the stone.
"Is she back yet?" Rastim asked, serious now. "I haven't heard her."
"I haven't either," Rian admitted. He didn't know who he was more worried about, them or Maskelle and the others back at the temple.
"I hope it's nothing..." Rastim began, then shrugged. "I suppose we'll find out later. It can't be too important to us right now."
Then somewhere across the chamber Rian heard the distinct sound of a foot knocking against a loose stone.
One of the flying things wouldn't make noise.
Rastim bounced agitatedly and Rian waved him and the others back behind a pile of rubble. The Ariaden managed to creep back behind it quietly enough and Rian started to advance cautiously toward the sound.
Rian heard that whisper again, a faint scrape against the gritty stone, and this time he could tell where. The other men were watching him alertly from the cover of the pile of rubble. Rian motioned for them to stay where they were. He looked at Rastim to make sure the Ariaden was paying attention, then gestured for him to head across the room, toward the outer door.
Rastim nodded sharply then stood and moved briskly toward the door. Their opponent took the bait as soon as the Ariaden broke cover, stepping into the doorway and leveling a crossbow at Rastim. It’s a man, Rian had time to realize, just like us. He threw himself forward and the man sensed him at the last instant, swinging the heavy wooden weapon around to strike Rian in the shoulder.
They hit the ground and Rian tore the bow away, slamming his opponent in the head with the stock. Rastim was bouncing around them, bori club upraised, shouting, "Get him, get him!" Rian rolled off the man and came to his feet, handing Rastim the crossbow as the Ariaden scrambled back out of the way. When the man staggered to his feet, he was facing Rian's siri. He stared at them, panting. He looked Kushorit, even as Marada had, and he was dressed in trousers, an open vest and sandals that wouldn't have gotten a second glance on any street in Duvalpore.
"Who are you?" Rastim demanded. As the others joined them, Aren the monk gaped in surprise. "That's Vanthi. He's with Chancellor Mirak's party."
The man grimaced in contempt and looked away.
"He's one of them," Rian said. In Mirak's party. Oh, he had a bad feeling about this. "Taken over by Marada, like her servants."
That name got his attention. The man glared at them, eyes narrowed. "You killed her, but your tricks won't stop us," he said, his voice low and grating.
"We've got more tricks in our bag than we know what to do with," Rastim said archly, "so you just better talk while you can."
Whatever that meant, Rian thought. "Tell us where the Wheel is. It's nearby, or you wouldn't have bothered to try to stop us."
A sudden howl of wind nearly burst their eardrums and the others ducked and scattered. The man used the instant of distraction and charged them. He bowled Rian over, but Rian threw him off and rolled away, coming to his feet again. Ducking a wild blow, he stabbed the man in the stomach, freeing the weapon with a jerk that turned the thrust into a disemboweling stroke. He didn't bother to watch the man fall, his attention caught by the wind rushing into the chamber, its force almost enough to knock him off his feet. The whirlwinds must be returning. They couldn't get out the way they had come in. Further into the building was their only chance.
Rastim had already come to that conclusion and was pulling at his arm. They bolted back through the archway and into a high-ceilinged hall. Running down it, they could see other corridors leading off. They came to an intersection of another, larger hall and Rian saw fading daylight at the end of it. "That way." He pointed and there were cries of relief from the others. They started toward it when Rastim grabbed Rian's arm.
"Look, that light," the Ariaden said, wondering. "That must be something."
Rian looked at the opposite end of the corridor where Rastim was pointing. There was a strange murky light, not flickering like firelight at all. Whirlwinds or not, Rian realized, they had to investigate it.
Rastim glanced back, then yelled something incoherent, pointed back down the corridor, eyes wide.
Rian turned. A miniature whirlwind was coming down the corridor toward them. It was grey-white with dust and a strange white mist, and this close he could hear the pebbles and other debris trapped within it scraping and striking the walls. "Run!" he shouted to the others just as it surged forward, cutting him and Rastim off from the branch corridor.
Rian turned to run down the other passage after Rastim, but the thing was too fast, and before he reached the archway he felt a freezing cold dampness on the back of his neck. A force struck him from behind, shoving him forward into the wall with a stunning impact. He remembered sliding down to the corridor floor, then nothing.
Chapter Sixteen
Maskelle stood in the doorway, watching the Chancellor. Mirak had made his camp in the second level of the east corner tower, in a large square room with an offerin
g block in the center. The carving in this room represented the watery chaos of creation; the walls were covered with waves, churning waters, and every kind of sea creature. Monsters that were part crocodile and part bird loomed out of the corners. Mirak faced the window that looked out over the second outer court. He was staring into darkness, motionless, his face deeply shadowed by the single lamp.
He turned suddenly and saw her, his face going still and grim. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to let you know how the search was progressing."
"Ah." His voice sounded reassured, but the suspicion in his eyes didn't alter. "Have they found anything?"
"No. But, you already know that." She stepped further into the room. Raith had made few provisions for his comfort in his makeshift quarters, but Mirak had done nothing. The room was bare, without even a pallet or a brazier. The only luxury was a lamp set atop the jutting head of a water monster.
"What do you mean?"
"You were Marada's patron, not the Throne." She met his eyes, but his expression of wary inquiry didn't change.
He said only, "Who told you that?"
"Raith himself." She shook her head slowly, smiling. "The Throne is isolated from all but his closest companions and advisors, especially around this time of year, with so many rituals to attend, so much prepatory fasting and vigils. If he heard the rumors that the noblewoman from the Garekind Islands had become his new favorite, he wouldn't have cared anyway. There are always rumors."
Mirak stepped toward her. "Speculation."
"Marada had the woman from the village in Iutara to make death magic for her, and you knew the Celestial One had sent for me, and where I was likely to stop on the Great Road."
"You're under a curse. Death magic and dark spirits follow you everywhere." He stopped a bare pace away from her.
She could smell his sweat. His eyes were dark and opaque. She felt the tension gather in her muscles, her throat tighten with growing anger. "You weren't in the Marai when the change occurred, you were on the causeway. Rian and Karuda were closer to the temple than you, and they were both hurt when the wave knocked them against the wall. But when everyone assembled in the central court, there you were, uninjured. Last night, when Marada's people sent their creatures to attack, you said, 'Take human shape.' How do you know what they look like?"