by Jo Clayton
Isaho watched as Shadith painted antiseptic over the wound and sprayed it with faux skin. Her eyes opened wider as Shadith set the pharmacopoeia’s spray nozzle against the inside of her elbow and touched the sensor. “Oh! That tickles.”
“What it does is keep you from getting infection in the bite.”
“Oh.” She smoothed her finger across the faux skin. “Is this what you put inside Thanny?”
“No. That was something else. Does the same job, though. How are you feeling otherwise?”
Isaho’s eyes went suddenly blank, then she looked away, her gaze shifting rapidly from point to point until she’d forced herself to forget the question. Only then did she turn back and smile at Shadith. “We’re going to Linojin. Mam and Baba and my brother Keleen, they’re waiting for us there.” Her eyes flickered again, then her smile brightened like a sheet of ice concealing the turmoil in an undertow. “Did God send you to take us to Linojin?”
“I wouldn’t know about that, Isaho. Do you think you could go to sleep for a while? We’ll be traveling all night again.”
She sensed a sudden wild burst of fear in the child, but Isaho’s smile didn’t falter. The femlit put out a hand, touched her knee. “Will you be sleeping, too, Messenger of God?”
“No, I have to see that Thann eats and I’ll be keeping watch for strangers.”
“Then I can sleep.”
Shadith chuckled as Thann made a face when xe saw the tube she was holding. “I’ve run some water through the filtra and you can have a nice cup of hot tea once you get this down.”
+Isaho?+
“Sleeping. In the beginning she woke up several times an hour to make sure I was still there watching, but she’s been sleeping really well since noon. Not like before, just good healthy sleep. There. That’s over for now. And here’s your tea. Hang onto the mug, let me lift you up. There. You can rest your head and shoulders on my knee.”
When Thann was finished, Shadith took the mug back and set it on the ground beside her. “Want more? No? Feeling like talking a while?”
+Yes. I owe you my life. Ask what you want.+
“Well, first of all, when you’re in Linojin, I’d be grateful if you forget how you got there. Don’t mention me, not even a hint of what I look like. Or anything about flying. Isaho told me her mother and father and brother are there. I doubt you can keep her from talking to them, so see if you can get them to keep quiet, too.”
Thann sighed. +Isaho won’t say anything to them, Shadow. They’re dead. All of them. Her brother five years ago, her Mam and Baba just before we left Khokuhl. She saw them dead, but she won’t let herself remember that.+
“Then why…?”
+Because five times she started out to walk to Linojin by herself, twice she was nearly killed. I thought at least we’d be away from the war and the Anyas of Mercy have their hospital there and they know about such hurts to the soul, they might be able to heal her and bring her back to peace with God.+ Thann sighed. +And there was no place for us in Khokuhl. My clan was never big and they’re mostly dead. Bazekiyl and Mandall, those were my bondmates, their cousins had their own families to care for. So there wasn’t much choice about what to do.+
“I see. How’s the babbit?”
+Doing well. Xe’s a hungry and lively little one. I was afraid… not trusting God’s providence enough. But One has forgiven my weakness and blessed me.+
“Hm. Good to hear. We’ll reach the mountains above Linojin by daybreak tomorrow. I’ll set you down beside the Pilgrim Road. Will you be strong enough to walk the last stretch, or do you want to lay up for a day and start the next morning?”
+That paste you’ve been feeding me is amazing. A little sleep and I can run the rest of the way.+ Xe’s hands made a smile.
“Then you’d best get that sleep.’ Shadith eased the anya’s head down, thrust her arms under xe, and lifted xe quilt and all. “I’ll tuck you in beside your daughter.” She chuckled. “You can snore up a partsong together.”
12
The Gateway is the sign in the middle. Retreat or go forward. The choice is yours.
Chapter 11
1. Reaching Linojin
On the fourth day after leaving the village, the Shishim Remnant left sand and sawgrass behind and found a road heading north. As Wintshikan stepped onto the worn paving, she sighed with relief-at last some solid land that didn’t slide away from under her feet and slip into her sandals until each step was a punishment. Never mind that she’d walked mountain trails for sixty years now; her knees hurt, and there was an ache in the place between her shoulder blades that she couldn’t reach.
No more swarms of black biters that lifted off the sawgrass and drank the sweat on her arms and face, walking over her sticky skin with their tiny tickling feet until she wanted to scream.
This was open land like the Meeting Grounds. Fields with small herds of maphiks and zincos grazing under the eyes of mallits and femlits. Flocks of small dark maphabirds following the beasts and pecking at the droppings. It squeezed her heart to see those familiar things here in the lowlands she despised.
The paving was cracked, even crumbled in places, square flags of stone held together with a dark tarry substance. The jomayls’ hooves click-clacked loudly on that stone. Their red eyes flickered in the sunlight, and one after the other they announced their pleasure at the footing with drawn-out nasal honks; they’d liked slogging through the sand even less than she had.
A breeze touched her face, cool air with a touch of brine, stirring the heart-shaped leaves in a small grove of young vevezz a short distance ahead, turning them over so the silver sides caught the sunlight, letting them fall again so they shimmered from pale green to silver and back again.
Kanilli rode one of the pack jomayls, Zaro was slumped on the back of another; she was miserable, covered with welts from the biters. The last time Wintshikan had checked on her, she’d been running a slight fever, but she’d become angry when Xaca wanted them to stop so she could tend her daughter. “I hate this place,” she said. “If I have to crawl, I’ll keep going.”
Luca and Wann rode ahead of them, talking energetically, guiding their jomayls with the balance of their bodies, looking as wild and unconfined as the sea birds that soared overhead.
We’re not even a Remnant now, Wintshikan thought, not Pixa at all; we’re turning into something else, and I don’t know what it is.
Would it have been better to stay on the Round and fall at the hands of the Imps where at least they’d know who they were, what they were? Would it have been better to hold more tightly to the bond with God and let One harvest them, set them aside to be reborn into the Company of the Faithful? I want things to be like they were, she thought, I want to know what I’m meant to do. Her eyes burned with tears-which made her angry with herself, then angry with God for allowing this. Which appalled her so much, she tried to wipe the thought away with her tears as she scrubbed her sleeve across her face.
Zell leaned down to stroke Wintshikan’s hair. Xe was riding.a packer jomayl, but xe was all the gear it carried. Xe’s joints had suffered in the passage through the edges of the salt marsh, and xe could no longer walk because something had gone wrong with xe’s hip. Even riding meant endless grinding pain, but xe never complained nor would xe permit Wintshikan to hold the Remnant in camp longer than necessary. +I can rest when we reach Linojin+, xe signed. +And I’d certainly rather ride than scratch+.
By mid-afternoon the Remnant was moving through a patchwork of small farms, the land intensely tilled, some plots with vegetables, berries, and fruit trees growing together, three levels of crops ripening at the same time. There were more people working in those fields than Wintshikan had seen since the last Grand Gather.
Her heart ached again when she looked at them. They were lightly clad because it was a very warm day, so she could see that they were unarmed except for cultivators and pruning shears. Not a single rifle anywhere. No guards, no fences, no watchchals. It isn’t fair, she t
hought, it isn’t right that life on the far side of the mountains should be so terrible, and here so peaceful that those folk don’t care that we’re strangers. No guns, no guards, no walls, yet they’re calm and contented, at ease with the world. It just isn’t fair. They ought to feel some kind of guilt for their good fortune, they should lower their eyes when we go past and be ashamed because they have so much while we’ve lost everything.
By mid-morning on the next day there was a dark blot visible on the northern horizon. At first Wintshikan thought it was a cloud though there wasn’t a wisp in the rest of the sky, but as the hours slid away, the blot turned into shining white walls and dark green foliage with the patchy browns and grays of a fishing village obscuring part of it. The coast curved closer to the road so the ocean was visible again in the west, a shattered blue so brilliant that her eyes hurt looking at it.
When they were close enough to make out the sails of the fishboats out in the bay, the road turned suddenly eastward, curving away from the city. Luca and Wann rode a short distance along the curve, then turned and came trotting back.
Luca dropped her hands on her thighs, scowled down at Wintshikan. “I don’t know what to do,” she said. “The closer we get, the more I don’t want to go in there.” She nodded at the Pilgrim Road half a mile off. “Look at them there. Walking. What’re we supposed to do with these?” She dug the fingers of one hand in the roached mane of her jomayl and scratched vigorously, drawing a mooing moan of pleasure. Her face hardened as she glanced over her shoulder at the city. “Walls,” she said, then shivered.
Wintshikan brushed her hand across her eyes. She’d drifted out of the habit of leadership on the difficult walk north from that village, ceding its problems and pleasures to Luca.
Zell touched her arm and tried to give her the Heka’s Shawl, but she shook her head. That was done with now. It was sad, it meant that all the past was really gone now, but at the same time it was almost a relief to acknowledge the passing. She straightened her shoulders.
“Hm. I’ve heard they don’t allow weapons inside Linojin, so-Luca, why don’t you and Wann take the gear and the jomayls except the one Zell’s riding to that village over there. See if you can find a place where to stay. Nyen, you and Hidan go with them, no telling what kind of thieves live there. Xaca, I want you to come with us and mind the children.”
Xaca nodded, but Kanilli wasn’t pleased at all with this division. “Ahee, Heka, I want to go with Luca and Wann.”
“Quiet, Kanli, you help your mother take care of your cousin. I don’t want to hear any more nonsense out of you.” She rubbed her thumb across her chin. “I mean to see the Anyas of Mercy about Zell and about Zaro’s bites. Don’t know how long that will take to set up. I… hm yes,. I don’t like the thought of walls either. Soon as we can, we’ll join you. That sound all right?”
Luca smiled, the grin that lit up her face and gave her the charm her usual sullen stone face denied her. “Sounds real good,” she said. “Kanilli, you keep on whining like that and for all I care, the Heka can leave you with the Anyas of Mercy, maybe they can teach you some manners. Now, move your little butt and help Zaro down, get her up behind Zell.”
Wintshikan stood a while, watching the four ride off across the open grassland, then she shook her head and started walking toward the Pilgrim Road, Xaca quiet beside her, a sulky Kanilli stumping at her side, the lead reins of the jomayl clutched in her fist.
2. The meeting
Yseyl lay stretched out on the limb of a bulky maka tree, the cinque-lobed leaves rubbing stiffly against each other in the breeze that trickled downslope from the peaks. The Outlook was some distance behind her, around the curve of the mountain, but she was still nervous about being watched and not quite recovered from the sudden appearance of that small black box that had scared the stiffening out of her bones* when it popped up from behind a boulder, called her name and brought her here to listen to that… what did Cerex call itThollow something. Sweet talking twisty-tongued… why do I bother?
The painted air folded itself up when the spiel was done and was sucked by a flat black slab with its eggchild clicked into a hole in its side. She almost couldn’t see it any more, last fall’s dead leaves blown across it by that same breeze that was tickling her hair.
This was the day when that offworlder was supposed to be here. She checked the setting on the stunrod for the tenth time, then went back to chewing on her lip and getting angry that the fool creature hadn’t shown up and in less than an hour the sun would be going down.
The offworlder came gliding into the open, deft and silent for such a big and lumpy creature. This one’s a hunter, Yseyl thought. Not like Cerex and the rest. Be careful, fern. Don’t give her the slightest opening…
She knelt beside the slab and did something to it; the surface went white, and there was a flow of writing across it. Reporting that I came, Yseyl thought. Maybe that I’m here now?
As the offworlder shut off the box and started to stand, Yseyl shifted the stunrod so that it pointed at her. “Stay where you are,” she called. “On your knees.”
“Ah.” The offworlder sank back on her heels. “Mind if I say your name?”
“Do you know it?”
“I think so. Cerex said you’re called Yseyl.”
“How do you know him?”
“The person I work for has hired him on occasion.”
“You work for an arms dealer?”
“No. Digby’s… urn… strongly opposed to such people. We find things for people, dig up information they can’t get any other way, at least not so quickly or easily. The company is called Excavations, Limited and my boss calls himself Digby. Which is a pun but you wouldn’t know it because it doesn’t translate into Impix.”
A whirring sound, a rasp of leaves, and a faint thud brought Yseyl’s head around. A large black bird landed on a branch near her. It blinked at her, then closed its eyes and settled into a stoic silence. A moment later a second appeared, then a third. Then several smaller brown birds. Odd.
She couldn’t afford the distraction, so she ignored the soft sounds as more birds arrived. “Why are you here?”
“We were hired to get the disruptor back.”
“What’s that?’’
“Now, Yseyl, it’s long past the time for playing, that game. We tracked you from Marrat’s Market, got confirmation from Cerex about what happened there.”
“He thought no one could do that.”
“Well, Cerex has never been one of Caan’s brighter products. That’s an interesting talent you’ve got. Digby collects talents. He asked me to tell you he’d be interested if you decided that you might like to work for him. Once this bit is finished, of course.”
Yseyl didn’t like the tone of that last comment; it was far too confident. She thought about stunning the hunter and getting out of there, but the offworlder had already tracked her from the Market and God only knew what resources she had to hand now. “You said you had a deal. Well?”
“I assume you’ve stashed the disruptor somewhere while you looked for a way to use it.” The hunter looked toward Yseyl, amusement written on her face. “Trusting your own people about as much as you trust me. I also assume that you’ve about run out of patience with the people you thought might help you. You wouldn’t be sitting in that tree if that weren’t a fair description. This is the deal. I can help you take down the whole kis’n Fence. Wipe it out. Then you won’t need someone to lead the Impix and Pixas through a hole, all you have to do is let Impix nature take its course. Within a few months ships and people would be heading out, too many of them for the Ptaks to stop. Besides, they’ve gotten lazy after so many centuries of penning you up. No arms, no ships, just a few fliers to ferry techs and assassins back and forth. In return, I want the disruptor. And you, of course, if you care to come back with me.”
“Now, hunter, explain to me just why I should believe a word of that.” She heard a soft whuff, glanced over at the black bird. It flapped i
ts wings again, did a kind of dance on the branch. Overhead, the brown birds were flitting from branch to branch, restless but silent, not a whistle out of them. Her hand tightened on the stunrod, and she went back to watching the hunter kneeling on the dead leaves.
“I have drugs that would make a rock sing arias. I could nun your head inside out and get everything you know in less than an hour. Digby’s techs have done their best to adjust them to Impix bodies, but there’s an appreciable chance you’d end up dead or mindless. Having a certain degree of distaste for that kind of thing, I’d prefer to deal rather than drug.”
“You’d have to catch me first. Seems to me it’s you who’re caught.”
“Appearances are somewhat misleading, Yseyl. I gave you a clue a while back, but you overlooked it. Too bad. I see I’m going to have to illustrate my point.”
The black bird darted at Yseyl, its talons struck her hand, knocked the stunrod from her grasp and slashing through the skin before it went sweeping away. At the same moment, the brown birds began mobbing her, pecking and screeching. Other black birds were stooping at her, striking her buttocks, her shoulder, pecking at her eyes, tearing her skin.
As she tried to fight them off, she lost her balance and fell from the tree.
The hunter caught her before she hit the ground, spun her around and in a couple of seconds had first her wrists then her ankles wrapped in tape that stuck to itself and wouldn’t yield to the strongest pull she could manage.