Worse for her, though, was Mala. She was a traitor whose trust was forever lost and her every action in question. She had betrayed them all and had a hand, no doubt in Urulani’s mind, in the attack on Nothree and the death of uncounted numbers of her kinsmen. The Sondau captain would have tossed her overboard the night she was exposed, and they would all have been rid of her long before now.
And yet here she was, moving deeper into this maze and for what? To rescue two foolish women who could not even manage to keep within the barricade walls.
“Why have you come, Li-li?”
“I’ve come for you,” Urulani shouted down the hallway. “We’ve got to get back to the town.”
“No, Li-li,” the deep voice said. The walls around Urulani groaned. “You did not come for the women—you came for him.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Urulani shouted, her hand suddenly shaking; she had to concentrate before it would stop. “We need to leave.”
“You cannot leave,” the voice said. It seemed to come from everywhere. “You came to find me . . . but you are lost and wandering. You do not know the way because you do not know what you want. You will never find it until you know what you seek.”
“I’m looking for two women . . .”
“You do not want them . . .”
“But I will have them!”
“Because he would want it to be so.”
“Stop it!” Urulani shouted.
A whisper came into her ear.
“You are lost, Li-li . . . you need to find the stars again. They have been hidden from your eyes, but you shall see them again, as you did when you were young. Come to Chelesta, Li-li.”
Urulani turned toward the voice. The faces in the wall were those of a woman.
It was her own face carved in the wall.
The face slowly smiled at her.
Urulani roared, swinging her sword wide and connecting with the carved face. In an instant, the wall exploded into dust followed by the wall behind her and those at either end of the labyrinthine halls. Instinctively, Urulani raised her arms to cover her face.
When she lowered them at last, she saw that the entire maze had vanished, crumbling to dust around her. In the center of the now empty shell of the building stood the Lyric and Mala gazing up at a statue of a woman that had remained unscathed through the years and the fall of the maze.
Urulani quickly crossed the now open space, her footfalls kicking up thick dust as she ran. “Lyric? Mala?”
The women turned toward Urulani. Mala had an expression of surprise, but the Lyric was unfazed.
“So you came for her,” the Lyric said with a smile and a vacant expression. “She said you would come when she called.”
“Come with me,” Urulani said, not wanting to think about what the Lyric was implying. “Philida is waiting for us outside, and we’ve got to get back inside the town before we’re missed.”
“Oh, I don’t think anyone will be looking for us,” the Lyric said with a smile. “They’ll be dealing with far bigger problems. You’re right, though; we had better hurry or we’ll be caught outside. He has come. He’s the beginning of the path but he does not comprehend its ends.”
The Lyric looked up.
Urulani followed her gaze. Sunlight was streaming down in columns from the broken dome far overhead. Urulani could hear horns blaring in the distance.
A screeching sounded so loudly that it raised a pall of dust up from around their feet as a shadow rushed overhead, blotting out the sun in its passage. Its shape and sound Urulani had seen only once before, but it was unmistakable to her now.
An enormous dragon had come to Ambeth.
Two more shadows like the first crossed over them in quick succession before Urulani was finally able to run toward the open doorway of the structure, with Mala and the Lyric close behind. As soon as they were outside, Philida joined them in their mad dash.
CHAPTER 22
The Horn and Hand
THE CRASH OF A GONG resounded from the walls of Ambeth.
Drakis started at the sound and the quick succession of alarms that followed it. He pushed his way out of the Far-runner’s hovel just as the enormous silhouette of a dragon passed so closely over the town that he ducked instinctively.
“Mala,” Drakis demanded of Ethis, who had followed him in his rush to the alley. “Where is she?”
“She was with Urulani and the Lyric,” Ethis answered at once.
“Where!” Drakis insisted. “Where were they?”
“They were in the market plaza near the Keep,” Ethis responded. Drakis’ voice was closer to panic than the chimerian had ever heard before. The screams of the townsfolk were making it difficult to be heard. “I don’t trust their handler, but Urulani will take care of them.”
“No, we’ve got to find her,” Drakis yelled as he ran down the alleyway toward Abratias Road.
“We’ve got to leave while we still can!” Ethis said, stopping Drakis just short of the road. People were flooding into the street, a river of panic as they tried every way to leave the town for the relative safety beyond the walls. All the gates were open wide but the sudden mob rushing toward them choked the openings. Children were crying everywhere, their panic spurred more by their parents gripping them in fear than their own concern.
“Why do they even have these walls?” Drakis said grimly as he tried to push his way along the edge of the panicked crowd. Ethis followed closely as they slipped, pulled, and occasionally pushed their way down the edge of Abratias Road. Drakis was sweating profusely by the time they reached the intersection of Tyra.
Ethis shouted something, but his words were swallowed up by the keening voice of the gray-mottled dragon as it rushed over the length of the town.
“What did you . . . ?”
“I said LOOK!” Ethis shouted, pointing down Tyra Road toward where the curving path rose up toward the Commons.
Drakis looked. The road was packed with panicked townsfolk blindly shoving their way toward them. A cart had overturned in the intersection in front of them, causing many of the terrified Ambeth to rush down toward the river bridge as well as in every other direction. All this Drakis took in even as his heart went cold in his chest.
Two of the dragons had landed at the far end of the road on Ambeth Commons while a third turned slowly overhead, seeking to land there as well.
“Mala,” Drakis said, then grabbed the closest of the chimerian’s four arms. “Come on!”
“And just where are we going?” Ethis demanded.
“To the river!” Drakis replied, charging across the street, dodging and shoving his way through the mindless panic. It was easier going with the fleeing host than against them. Drakis and Ethis quickly reached the river’s edge. As Drakis had surmised, the villagers were intent on crossing the bridge or, in some cases, attempting to swim the wide river, leaving the shoreline far less crowded than the streets. They made their way quickly along the shamble of buildings and ruins bordering the shoreline.
“This is your plan?” Ethis said with an intense hoarse whisper. “To get closer to these dragons?”
“It’s Mala,” Drakis said as though that were the final answer to all arguments.
“Mala?” Ethis replied. “Haven’t you learned anything? She sold your life’s breath to the Inquisitors and you’re still trying to protect her?”
Drakis did not even acknowledge the question, but continued moving along the southern end of Elucia Road where it followed the riverbank. The road soon turned back up the slope with the Keep on their right and the Commons at the top of the rise. The three dragons had all landed in the Commons, each sitting back with their wings folded and facing the Keep. They all seemed to be staring at something.
Drakis was suddenly shoved to one side, pressed firmly against the rough planks of a wall. He instinctively reached for his sword, but a larger hand encased his own against the grip, holding the blade firmly in its scabbard.
�
�Think, Drakis,” Ethis said, pinning the human against the wall. “She’s probably not even there! She’s fled with the rest of the town, and if you’re looking to save her, you should be looking for her out there!”
Drakis struggled with all his considerable strength but the chimerian held him fast. Rage filled his vision with red.
“You’re not going to save anyone by dashing in and challenging a dragon with your sword drawn—let alone three of them at once,” the chimerian said urgently. “You’ve got to listen to me!”
Drakis froze.
Come to the tears of the Ambeth lost
Come are the mighty of old
Where is the son come?
Where is the past found?
Ethis turned his head, his blank, featureless face twisting consciously into the image of concern. “What is it, Drakis?”
Drakis started to shake.
Where is the man whom the wise foretold?
He who is seeking the truth?
What does portend?
In treacheries ends?
“I hear them,” Drakis stammered.
“Hear who?”
“THEM!” Drakis hissed through clenched teeth.
Ethis sharply turned his head and looked up the street, relaxing his grip.
When fell the towers of human right?
Why did their oaths they forsake?
Death came in calling . . .
Dark brought the falling.
“I don’t hear a thing,” Ethis whispered, more puzzled than alarmed. “In fact . . . it’s uncommonly quiet.”
Drakis turned his head to look toward the Commons. “One of them . . . the rust-colored one.”
“What about it?” Ethis asked.
“It’s . . . singing.”
Broken the vow of the ancient kings,
Dead in the ground they now rot.
Where is the Seeker?
Where is the Keeper?
“They are making no sound,” Ethis whispered again. “Do you understand them?”
Drakis squinted, trying to concentrate.
Come to us that we may know you
Come to the horn and the hand
Drakis returning . . .
Drakis in yearning . . .
“They . . . they’re asking for me,” Drakis said quietly.
“For you?” Ethis asked. “Are you certain?”
“Yes,” Drakis nodded, gently pushing the chimerian’s arm out of the way. “I can’t explain it, but . . . but they want me to come.”
Drakis began walking up the center of the deserted street.
“This can’t be good.” Ethis shook his head as he followed. Drakis knew that the chimerian was taking far more care than he was in moving silently along the buildings and finding cover between him and the monstrous beasts as he advanced. Drakis’ own training sounded in the back of his mind reminding him that he, too, should be taking such elementary precautions, but there was something in the dragon’s song that beckoned him onward with an understanding of inviolate honor and truce. It was not peace or even trust but something else that he was having trouble putting words to in his mind. Oddly, the fact that there were three of them was comforting to him although he did not understand why that should be true.
Drakis stepped slowly up the trodden clay of the road and onto the deserted Commons. His sword remained in its scabbard and he kept his hands far from its hilt. He moved gingerly between the mottled gray dragon on his left and the yellow-and-green dragon on his right. Both had reared back on their curled tails and sat upright in the open space before the Keep, their wings partially extending from time to time, flapping gently to help them keep their balance. Each of these dragons was nearly forty feet in height, their great, horned heads craned forward on their long, scale-plated necks as they watched him imperiously through their reptilian eyes. Directly across from where he stood sat the third dragon, a towering behemoth with rust-colored scales almost a third again as large as the other two dragons.
Drakis stepped carefully between them with light treads, his eyes fixed on the great rust dragon before him.
The gray dragon suddenly hissed so loudly that Drakis flinched, turning sharply toward the sound. The dragon’s lips curled back, baring sharp teeth taller than the human’s height. With a speed and agility far greater than Drakis could have imagined in such an enormous creature, the gray dragon’s head rushed toward him. Drakis fell backward, his hand reaching for his blade.
The head of the rust-colored dragon slammed into the onrushing head of the gray dragon, knocking it to one side. The gray dragon pulled its head upward, roaring with such a deafening sound that Drakis dropped his sword just as he drew it, his hands rising instinctively to cover his ears.
The rust-colored dragon howled back, its neck curling down over Drakis. The enormous body fell forward, and for a moment Drakis thought it might crush him, but then the dragon spread its claws, arresting its fall as its forepaw smashed into the ground only ten feet to the human’s right, gouging a deep hole and shattering the stones of a section of ancient roadway. The scaled breast of the beast filled his vision as the monster turned, bringing its own head down toward the human.
Drakis clambered backward, tripping over the broken stones and falling before he could get his footing. He glanced anxiously about him, searching for his sword, but the colossal head was rushing toward him.
Then it slowed and stopped just above him.
Drakis lay staring at the beast for a while, neither of them moving.
Tell us the truth we are seeking
Come to the horn and the hand
Drakis returning . . .
Drakis in learning . . .
Drakis stared for a moment at the terrifying face staring back at him. Thick, leathery skin lay beneath the scales all of which were a deeper reddish color near their base but faded further out. The enormous teeth were yellowed with age, though how old the creature might be was beyond his guessing. One of the eyes was a milky color and probably blind and several of the multiple horns springing from its head had long ago been broken off and worn smooth by time and use.
The dragon turned its head so as to get a better look at the human with its good eye. Then it twisted its head downward, lowering the long horn, which emerged from its head just behind the eye, until it was within a few feet of the prone human.
Drakis smiled momentarily. It was like watching an old man crane his head to hear better.
Come to the horn and the hand.
Drakis slowly reached upward, laying his hand hesitantly on the surface of the horn.
His eyes widened and he drew in a sharp breath.
CHAPTER 23
Strong Currents
URULANI THREW HER BACK against the village wall just to the left of the open North Gates. The villagers had fled into the surrounding jungle although Urulani knew that their safety there was far from guaranteed.
Mala dropped down next to Urulani, more out of a desire to remain close than to follow her toward the danger. She smelled of panic, Urulani thought, staying so close to the raider captain that she could barely move her elbows without hitting the traitorous female. Not that Urulani would have any personal concerns about hurting Mala if she got in her way. Indeed, Urulani rather relished the excuse as she had come to the conclusion that the woman should have been relieved of the burden of her existence ever since her treachery had been exposed some weeks before when they were still at sea. But Drakis had insisted on protecting her, and Urulani found herself irritated that she felt a desire to honor his proclaimed protection of this ridiculous excuse for a female.
Philida knelt on the opposite side of the gate, her face drawn and her eyes wide. She spoke in urgent, hushed tones across the deserted, open gate. “We should flee into the brush! Now!”
Urulani smiled across at the Ambeth Hunt-runner. “Wouldn’t that be a violation of clan-law?”
“That is clan-law!” Philida hissed back.
“How can you say
that?” Urulani replied, drawing the curved blade of her cutlass from its scabbard. “After you’ve worked so hard to get us all back into the village.”
“We have to get closer,” Mala said suddenly.
Urulani turned her face toward her clinging companion, her languid dark eyes set against the midnight-velvet complexion. “You want to get closer?”
“No!” Philida demanded emphatically. “We stay here!”
“It’s all right, Philida,” Urulani smiled grimly back at their escort as she turned in a crouch toward the gate. “You stay here. The Lyric will protect you.”
Philida looked up. The Lyric was standing behind her, her pale face grinning vacantly as she examined a large butterfly that had landed on her arm.
Urulani sprinted through the gate, silently dashing down the right-hand roadway—Heritsania, she thought it was named—and following the cobbled-together buildings on the south side between her and the dragons to the south. Just ahead of her, the road turned southward, and she knew it sloped down from there toward the Commons. It would afford her a good view into the plaza where the monsters had settled while still affording her the benefit of a little distance and cover behind which she might hide.
Not, she thought, that she had any real idea how far from these creatures was far enough or what cover might be effective.
She was just coming to the corner when something caught her foot, causing her to stumble.
“Sorry,” Mala exclaimed in a hoarse whisper.
Urulani gritted her teeth and choked back the words she longed to say. She knelt, sword in hand, at the wall of a bakery that stood at the corner where the road turned southward. The shutters remained open above her and the smell of baking bread drifted out of the windows and down around her.
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