by Leslie Chase
“Do not worry,” he told me without looking round. “They will not have you, I promise.”
Stress, despair, and horror conspired to make me laugh. I’d never expected a worthless promise from Zarkav, but there he was making an oath he couldn’t keep.
“Thanks, I guess,” I answered. If he was trying to reassure me it wasn’t working, but I wouldn’t be an ass about it. If we died here, I wanted him to feel like he’d comforted me.
Only that wasn’t his plan at all. With a speed I’d never seen on anything or anyone, he wheeled around and lifted me, planting a swift kiss on my lips. Behind him, taken by surprise, the other Zrin hesitated a moment before charging.
A moment was all he needed. “I love you Tessa Ward,” Zarkav said, fast but serious. “You are my taru-ma, the light of my soul, and if you would honor me, live.”
The last word became a shout of effort as he braced himself and threw me back out of the tunnel’s mouth. Too shocked even to scream, I watched as he spun to face his attackers, claws out to greet them.
22
Zarkav
Tessa’s startled gasp broke my heart, but I had no time to explain. I’d done what I could, and if my aim was true and Tessa’s luck good, she’d survive and escape.
I wished her all my luck; I had no more use for it now. The only purpose left to me was dying honorably and buying her time to flee.
“What have you done?” Marakz cried out, a touch of horror in his voice. My actions shocked even my enemies, and that gave me a chance.
Not to win, but to inflict some damage before I died.
My leap toward him knocked Marakz out of his shock, and he ducked aside just in time. Instead of opening his throat, I sliced his arm open and my tail knocked aside his spear. One of his guards attacked before I finished the kill, forcing me away from my target. His spear nicked my leg as I leaped towards him, sharp bronze tip leaving a painful cut — but not a dangerous one.
My claws opened up the artery on the attacker’s inside thigh, sending a spray of blood through the air. Dead or near as — I snatched his spear from his weakened grip and turned, throwing it at Marakz. I didn’t hit him, nor had I expected to. The important thing was to keep him busy. The longer he focused on me, the further away and safer Tessa would get.
Her chances were, I conceded, slim. She might have been seen on the way down, or injured by the fall — if I’d missed my mark, she might even be dead. I took a perverse solace in the certainty that, if I had killed her, I would never know. Not unless we were united in whatever land waits beyond the caverns of death.
Thinking of my taru-ma distracted me long enough for one of Marakz’s men to make his move, his spear biting into my shoulder. I swept it out of its owner’s hand and showed him how to use it properly. He fell to the floor, impaled through the torso.
“You’ll die slowly, Zarkav,” Marakz snarled, clutching at his injured arm and glaring at me. “We’ll throw you down an execution pit. Maybe, before you die, you’ll hear your false goddess’s screams when we deliver her to Orson.”
That pushed me too far and I lost control. Instead of drawing out the fight, I lunged for him and he tumbled back snarling. My claws missed his face by a scale’s breadth, but before I could follow up, his minions’ spears sliced into my back. I ignored the wounds, lashing out with my tail to drive them back. Marakz was in my sights and I wouldn’t let him escape again.
At the last moment, Mi-Zrak leaped between us and took the blow meant for her leader. My claws slid through her scales and she hissed in pain, but her return stroke drove me back with a gash across my stomach. Her knife’s blade so wickedly sharp I hardly noticed the cut until blood pumped from it.
The Zrin I’d pushed past to attack Marakz pounced on me from behind, one catching a tail strike to the throat for his eagerness. Another I fended off with my left arm, leaving him to tumble back, his face a clawed-open ruin.
It wasn’t enough. More followed, too swiftly to deal with, bearing me down to the ground. The strength faded from my muscles and everything felt distant, cold, as though it was happening to someone else.
Blood loss? No, too fast for that. Arms and tails tightened around me as I struggled to keep my eyes open, and Mi-Zrak crouched before me, her scales glittering with golden triumph.
The blade in her hand glistened with a greenish sheen. I tried to get a limb free to strike at her, but all the strength had fled them and I sagged in the grip of my captors.
Her poisoned knife was the last thing I saw before my eyes fell shut and refused to open again.
To my great surprise, I woke up. I’d expected the endless dark of death, or whatever comes next. Instead, I opened my eyes to see bars. The stab wound in my shoulder burned, and my stomach was still numb from the poison on Mi-Zrak’s blade.
My wrists ached too, and it took a moment to realize why. Whoever had bound my arms and tail behind my back either didn’t know what they were doing or didn’t care what damage they did to me.
Fair enough, I suppose. It’s not like I’ll live long enough for it to matter. All my survival meant was that my enemies had a choice of execution methods.
“Ah, you’re awake.” The Eldest’s voice was rough, dark, angry. Turning my head, I saw him sitting outside my cage, his ssav a deep, angry red. He rolled up the scroll he’d been reading and focused on me. “Good. Now I must decide what to do with you.”
“Kill me,” I replied. “I have no time for games and I didn’t expect to wake up.”
A bark of laughter with no trace of humor in it emerged from the Eldest’s hate-filled throat. “Of course, but that fool Marakz brought you back to me for judgement, and too many people saw that. Now I have to do something public with you, or there’ll be a scandal. I don’t like scandals, they make things uncertain. There is enough confusion in the tribe already.”
“Hah.” My laugh came out surprisingly genuine. “If you did not lie to the people, your life would be easier.”
“If I didn’t lie, I would be an honest mushroom farmer,” he hissed, disdain filling his words. “No, thank you: I will keep the temple and its power, even if it’s not easy.”
We glared at each other through the bars, my claws sliding out and my ssav reddening. In contrast, his calmed, the rage-red fading into a serene blue despite his outburst. I wondered what tricks he used to stop his scales shifting with his mood — without that self-control I’d have known him for the villain he was years ago.
“You don’t serve the Sky Gods, just yourself,” I said. “You are so jealous of your position you don’t even recognize your duty to our tribe anymore.”
Another laugh, and perhaps a hint of red across his body. “The Sky Gods? You’ve seen what they are like, scheming and lying. I put two in a room together and they tried to kill each other. Since that is how they behave, why should their priests be any different? It turns out that despite my failings, I am a good match for the Sky God who has fallen into my lap. We both wish to better our lives, and if you are looking for a divine sign, there it is.”
My teeth ground together as I tried to think of something to say. This was intolerable, but I had no arguments he wouldn’t turn against me. Damn that Fanwell: if he’d been a decent man instead of this infernal con artist, the Eldest might have drawn different conclusions.
“The other Sky God is different,” I said, making one last try to reach him. “Tessa-ma is wise and strong and wants the best for all. Do not judge the Sky Gods by the example of only one, Eldest. There is still time for you to do the right thing if you only think clearly.”
“Take your own advice, Zarkav,” the Eldest said, shaking his head, looking tired. “You may have found your mate in this ‘Tessa’ from the sky, and for all I know she is as perfect as you say. Perhaps all the rest are like her, perhaps not — but your judgement is at least as clouded as mine.”
He pulled himself to his feet, slipping the scroll into its case. A snap of his fingers brought Marakz and his gang back i
n, along with temple guards to back them up. I felt a little flattered; they took no chances with me. Mi-Zrak held Izdril’s arm, supporting him as he limped, and they glared at me.
“We will take you before the Sky God for public judgement,” the Eldest said, nodding decisively. “When he condemns you, all will know that your soul was beyond salvage. Bring him.”
The guards undid the door fastenings and I walked out of the cage. I would lose any fight here swiftly and without gain; better to keep some dignity. Marakz grabbed one arm, a temple guard the other, and between them they led me out into the light.
I breathed deep of the cave air, savoring it and surprised by the calm that settled over me. Tessa had escaped. Had they caught her they’d have taunted me with it or she would be here. My plan, such as it was, had worked even if it had taken longer to kill me than I’d expected.
I give my life for my taru-ma. What could be a better death?
The answer came to me in Tessa’s voice. Death by her side at an old age, surrounded by children and grandchildren. Don’t be an idiot, there’s nothing worthwhile about this death.
“It’s not as though I have a choice, Tessa-ma,” I muttered under my breath.
“What was that?” Marakz demanded, shaking my arm and reminding me of the shoulder wound.
“I offered a prayer to my taru-ma,” I answered quietly, unwilling to share my actual words. They were for Tessa alone, even if she’d never hear them. “Something to keep her safe as she returns to her own people.”
He accepted that with a skeptical grunt, turning his eyes ahead to a pair of acolytes moving past us in the passage. One kept his eyes off me, but the other met my gaze, shocked.
I tried to will El-Ensha not to get involved, not to do anything stupid, not to draw attention to herself. All she’d do is get herself killed for no reason, and the temple needed all the good and pious servants it could get right now.
Maybe that got through, or maybe she was smart enough to avoid trouble on her own. She walked past, showing no sign of recognizing me.
Seeing my friend reminded me that the temple wasn’t entirely corrupt. If I was doomed anyway, I might as well try to save others from themselves.
Unfortunately there was only one Zrin near enough to speak to, and I didn’t think he’d listen. But I could try.
“Marakz, it’s not too late for you,” I whispered. “You can still turn back.”
“And why would I do that?” He sounded honestly amused in his reply. “The Eldest gives me work I can enjoy and looks after me and my friends. I should turn against him to, what, help you? No, the Sky Gods are lies and there is no gain to pretending otherwise. We must each look out for ourselves.”
Firm words, but out of the corner of my eye I watched light blue patterns appear on his ssav. He was more conflicted than he let on.
Nowhere near enough to release me and fight by my side, though. I tried to take some solace in knowing he would feel bad after my death. A small revenge, but the only one I had available.
Then he surprised me by leaning in close. “This Tessa — is she really your taru-ma?”
I frowned, wondering what he had in mind. Some cruelty, a threat of what would happen to her, something like that. But something in the patterns of his ssav convinced me to answer.
“She is. Our souls match, she bears my ssav and I hers.”
He nodded slowly. “You were never a liar, and it would serve no purpose now. Very well. You need not worry about her. I will make sure she is safe.”
“Thank you,” I said, caught by surprise. He seemed sincere, which was the most worrying thing.
Hopefully you’ll never have the chance to make good on that promise. If they hadn’t found her by now, Tessa must have escaped or found a fine hiding place, and with any luck she would reach her own people and stay out of Marakz’ grip forever.
Before I thought of a better response, we emerged onto the platform overlooking the city. A crowd gathered in the square below, but a closer figure drew my attention. Waiting for us, looking down at his adoring crowd, stood the false god Orson Fanwell.
23
Tessa
Falling from the cliff was the worst experience of my life. Sheer panic set in as Zarkav threw me, I thrashed in the air desperately, clawing for the ledge and sailing past it. The city, far below, rose to greet me like a hand that would slap the life from my body.
If I’d had breath in my lungs, I’d have screamed the whole way down.
But Zarkav knew what he was about. My fall didn’t end with a wet crunch on the rocks but with a splash as I hit the river.
It hurt. Stinging pain all across my right side, freezing cold biting into my flesh, and blind panic as I sank, all tried to get me to open my mouth, to suck in a deadly breath of water. It took everything I had to ignore that instinct, ignore the burning in my lungs, and swim for the surface.
By the time I reached it my vision grayed, and the first breath I took tasted sweeter than anything I’d ever known. I didn’t give myself time to savor it, remembering how fast this river flowed. It had already swept me halfway through the city and if I let it carry me out the other side, who knew when or even if I’d surface again.
I struck out for the shore, swimming with a strength I didn’t know I had, and grabbed hold of the bank. The pull of the current nearly yanked my arm from my shoulder, but I hung on for dear life and, with an effort that nearly broke me, hauled myself up out of the water.
Now I let myself rest, panting for breath and shivering. I gave myself ten breaths to get under control before pulling myself to my feet.
Unsteady, weaving from side to side and stumbling into an alley, I would have been picked up for public drunkenness back on Earth. If anyone saw me here I’d be in for a lot worse. I needed to get off the streets.
No. I need to get back to Zarkav. That asshole hasn’t heard the last of this. It’s an odd feeling to be that angry with someone you love — my heart filled with a determination to save him, though afterward I might kill him myself.
I stuck to back alleys. Kept out of sight. Wrapped myself in an old blanket I found, for both warmth and disguise. It proved enough to get me back to where I’d started, but far too late. A crowd gathered, watching Marakz and his gang carrying Zarkav through the town.
Biting my tongue, I reminded myself that he would not want me to get myself caught. Even so, I barely suppressed the urge to cry as I watched from the shadows. Zarkav didn’t move and blood dripped from his wounds. Was he a captive, or a corpse? From this distance I had no way of knowing.
Mutters spread through the crowd. The words meant nothing to me, but I’d learned enough of Zrin body language to recognize anger in the reds of their ssavs. The crowd thickened, crowding around Marakz until he shouted something. I caught Zarkav’s name, and the words for Sky God, and no more. Whatever he said it was enough to calm the crowd. The potential riot faded back into grumblings, and the Zrin parted to let him and his followers through.
I grasped hold of the desperate hope his speech gave me with both hands and refused to let go. Despite appearances, Zarkav lived. That had to be what Marakz had said, right? He was alive and being brought to Fanwell.
Or he’s dead, my inner pessimist whispered. And they have their pet Sky God bless his corpse and forgive him.
No. I refused to entertain that thought. Zarkav lived, the universe might be cruel but not enough to let it end like this. I bared a forearm and looked at the strange marks — they still moved. That wouldn’t happen if my taru-ma was dead, I told myself, wishing I believed it.
Marakz’s little gang limped on toward the temple, their own wounds showing what a fight Zarkav put up. Fighting down the urge to leap to his rescue, I backed away down the alley and tried to think of a plan. Trying to fight the Zrin would be pointless at the best of times, and this was so far from best that I couldn’t see it with a telescope. But if I tried it, I’d be captured… and reunited with Zarkav.
My heart flu
ttered at the thought. Even locked in some dingy medieval-style dungeon with him was better than being alone without him.
Don’t be stupid, Tessa. He threw you in the river for a reason — to get you away to safety. If he wakes up and you’re there, he’ll be pissed.
Telling myself that over and over, I fled to the only place I thought of. The remains of Zarkav’s childhood home.
Exhausted, chilled, aching all over, I barely got my soaked clothes off before collapsing onto the bed and wrapping myself in blankets. Just five minutes, I promised myself before my eyes drifted shut. Five minutes and then I make a plan.
The next thing I knew, Kitty Fantastic bit my cheek and I sat up with a yelp. It took a moment to remember where I was and why no one else was with me. As soon as my memories surfaced, I looked at my wristband and saw that I’d slept for six hours.
“Fuck,” I whispered. “Should have set an alarm.”
Kitty clawed at my face, demanding attention. A glare didn’t quell her, so it had to be important. It wasn’t like she needed fed or anything.
I blame my slowness on still being half asleep. It took me far too long to ask the obvious question: “Why did you wake me, Kitty?”
Despite her appearance, Kitty wasn’t a cat. She was a companion AI in (admittedly adorable) hologram disguise. Which meant she’d wake me when I told her to… or in an emergency. And I hadn’t set an alarm.
I snatched up a table leg from the remains of a broken desk while Kitty pointed at the trapdoor. Straining, I heard movement. Quiet movement, but compared to Zarkav it sounded like a dinosaur stomping through a bell factory.
Someone had been smart enough to figure out my hiding place.
I crept to the trapdoor, crouching out of sight, and waited. It didn’t take long before wood creaked as someone put their weight on the ladder.