She kept her head down as low as she could, but lifted it occasionally to catch a glimpse of frightened faces staring at them as they raced past. No one so much as raised a hand towards her as she fled. The smell of smoke faded quickly, but the shouts continued as more and more people became aware of the fire which was presumably spreading beyond the inn. Maida did not care. They had imprisoned her, shot her, humiliated her and kept her from finding Keshik. They deserved everything they got.
Tatya kept running — past closed doors, leaping over narrow waterways, along dark alleys, always heading away from the harbour and the fire, towards what Maida hoped was wilderness.
The spurre kept going, heedless of Maida’s presence or her battle to stay on. Her headlong flight was wild and unrestrained, showing regard for neither safety nor stealth.
Maida could not waste her energy on speculation as Tatya skidded again on a narrow walkway that ran alongside a brown, turgid waterway. Her claws scraped on the wood as she scrabbled to maintain her balance before she bounded on, once more stable on her feet.
A man bellowed in surprise when they rounded a corner and cannoned into him, sending him flying backwards. He landed heavily on his back and rolled a few times before roaring angrily, surging onto his feet, a dagger in his hand. One look at the snarling black spurre cooled his anger and sent him diving into the water. Tatya did not even spare him a backwards glance as she ran on. The sounds of shouting, the smell of smoke, the panic of fire faded, fell further behind as Tatya carried Maida towards the limit of this stinking city that squatted like a fungus on the edge of the Silvered Sea.
Unlike the cities of C’sobra and the other kingdoms that edged the northern waste, Sullito was not walled. Tatya left the city behind easily, leaping off the last wooden walkway to land softly on unworked earth, and sped on. She showed no signs of tiring or wanting to slow down. Maida, nearly exhausted herself by the mad dash, was gripping the yellow mane, lying as flat as she could, just waiting for it to end.
Tatya slowed to a walk some time after the sun had passed its zenith. Maida was hungry, sore, exhausted and battered from the wild run. Every muscle ached, her hands were cramped from gripping Tatya’s mane and she was bruised from head to foot. When Tatya was walking, Maida simply released her grip and slid off the big cat’s back to collapse on the ground. With a whimper, Tatya dropped to the ground, curled up around her, and fell asleep.
Maida’s dreams were troubled by images of Myrrhini. The Eye of Varuun was frightening, standing in judgement over a room full of robed men, then she was meting out punishment by causing the men to explode into flame with nothing more than a gesture. With one of those shifts that happen in dreams, the mystic now stood in a vast underground cavern, cowering before a huge black magical presence that spread to fill almost the whole cavern. The presence was ancient and malicious. It was speaking, but in a harsh language that Maida did not understand. Myrrhini understood, though, as she was answering in the same tongue. As she spoke, the presence seemed to flinch. Maida felt herself drawn into the scene until she was standing close behind the kneeling Myrrhini. She felt naked and vulnerable before the huge black being, especially when she saw the three swirling lights deep within it. At the moment she became aware of them, they ceased their movement and seemed to focus intently on her. So much so that Myrrhini looked around to see what had drawn the creature’s attention. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to scream …
‘… wake up!’
Maida’s eyes snapped open as something jabbed her hard in the side. To her shock, she saw Myrrhini, wrapped in blankets, standing over her. She scrambled to her feet.
‘What are you doing here?’ she snapped. ‘How did you …?’
‘Escape the fire? Get here so fast? What?’
‘Both. All.’
‘I don’t know, but your shapeshifter has a lot to explain.’
Tatya stirred and, sensing Myrrhini, sprang to her feet with a snarl. ‘I am not her shapeshifter,’ she said. ‘And I don’t answer to you, Mertian.’
‘But I need to know what you know. What did you mean by what you said before?’
Tatya snarled and shivered out of spurre form into her rodent form, to scuttle away under a bush, vanishing from view in moments.
‘Ice and wind!’ snapped Myrrhini.
Maida grabbed Myrrhini’s shoulder. ‘How did you get here?’ she demanded.
‘I don’t know. I just wanted to be where you were, and here I am.’
‘You just wanted it?’
Myrrhini nodded. ‘I just wanted it.’
‘How is that possible?’
Myrrhini shrugged. ‘How should I know?’
Maida shook her head and looked away, trying to hide her anger. First the woman acts all disgusted when I try to seduce some idiot Agent to escape, then she is a mystic who has visions, now she’s a sorceress! And I’d bet she did that Ce Atli.
And she’s the one the Blindfolded Queen is after.
‘I think I know where the Blindfolded Queen is, too,’ Myrrhini said hesitantly.
And I think I know where the Blindfolded Queen is, too! Maida mouthed mockingly before turning back to face Myrrhini. ‘And what makes you think I care in the slightest where she is?’ she snapped.
‘Because Keshik is making his way there with Slave, looking for you.’
‘How can you know that?’ Maida said. She suddenly felt dizzy. All that had happened in the past day or so was catching up with her, she knew, and if this was true … She dared not hope.
‘I had a vision, as you know, when I had that daven. I saw a lot — more than normal. Probably more than I ever have at one time.’ Her eyes became distant, as if focusing on something. Maida was impatient and snapped her fingers at her.
‘Hey!’ she said. ‘Focus. You can get as mystical as you like later. Tell me about this vision of Keshik.’
Myrrhini sank to her knees, exhausted. She pulled the blanket tighter around her and leant back against a tree. Maida sighed and sat down again. The sun was rising and the day was already warm, with promise of real heat to come. Beneath her feet, the grey, sandy earth was dry, which helped explain the sea of silver-gold waving grasses that surrounded them. Little else would grow in this poor sand. Even the trees making up this small stand were scrubby and low with sparse shade cover which did little to reduce the heat from the harsh sun. Maida was already beginning to feel uncomfortable. She waved away one of the annoying insects that were buzzing around her face, alighting from time to time at the corners of her eyes or on her lips to suck up tiny morsels of moisture. Myrrhini was clearly feeling the effects of the heat also, loosening the blankets from around her shoulders.
‘I Saw Keshik,’ Myrrhini went on. ‘At least I assume it was him; he was travelling with the Scarred Man towards a city where the waters were black and alive. All around them were trees that closed in on them. They knelt before the Blindfolded Queen, but before they could speak, the darkness crashed in over them. As they struggled to escape, another wave of dark rolled over it all.’
‘Then what?’
Myrrhini shrugged. ‘I can’t really describe it; it got very confused with images and sounds overlapping.’
‘So Keshik is still alive?’
‘He was at the time of the Seeing, but that might not be now, it could have been days ago, or yet to come. I didn’t get any sense of time.’
Maida knew Myrrhini was not telling everything, but she also knew there was nothing she could do about it. Myrrhini was almost asleep as she sagged back against the tree, allowing the blankets wrapped around her to slip away and fall unnoticed to the dusty ground. Maida stood up.
‘Now what?’ she muttered. Overhead, a bird flew past, calling mournfully in the clear sky. The air was still and the insects buzzed incessantly.
‘She’s asleep,’ Tatya said from the low scrub behind Maida.
‘I can see that,’ Maida snapped.
‘Would you like me to kill her now?’
&n
bsp; Maida was briefly tempted, but shook her head. ‘I still need her.’
‘I know where the Blindfolded Queen is.’
Maida whirled around. ‘You do?’
The shapeshifter blurred and shifted into her spurre form. ‘I can feel her presence.’
‘How?’
‘I don’t know. It’s not something I can normally do, but like I can sense your presence, I can sense hers now.’
Maida stared down at Myrrhini, sleeping against the tree. The blankets had slipped away from her body, leaving her naked. Her mouth hung open slackly and she snored softly. Her hair was a tangled mess, her hands still showed signs of frost damage, while her feet were battered, one toe bent badly from a nasty break that had never healed properly. She was an unprepossessing sight, yet still something powerful hovered about her. Maida could sense the mystical energy that wreathed her even as she lay asleep.
If Tatya truly knew where to find the Blindfolded Queen, she did not need Myrrhini any more.
Or did she?
Could she find Keshik without the mystical sight of the Eye of Varuun?
Another, deeper, fear touched her. Did the world need the mystical sight of the Eye of Varuun? With what was now abroad in the world, was this woman who lay naked and vulnerable at her feet really what stood between them all and utter destruction? The thought seemed laughable, but despite that, Maida knew this was no ordinary woman.
Keshik, I need you.
I need your help.
‘Kill her, or let’s just go now,’ Tatya growled.
‘Wait.’
Maida gently eased one of the blankets out from under Myrrhini and made a rough shelter by fixing it to the trees above her, ripping holes in the corners and hanging it on branches. It did not take long, and Myrrhini did not stir.
When she was done, Maida knelt beside Myrrhini and looked down at the sleeping Eye. She brushed the hair away from Myrrhini’s brow and sighed.
‘If we ever meet again, I doubt you will forgive me, but I can understand that, and I suppose I really don’t care anyway. Good luck.’ She rose to her feet and rested her hand on Tatya’s broad neck. ‘Which way?’ she asked.
Tatya gave a low rumble and padded away to the east. Without a backwards look, they walked into the grasslands, under a harsh uncaring sun.
38
Myrrhini awoke alone in the dark. The night was warm and a light breeze stirred the trees. Her stomach growled in hunger and her head was strangely light. For a moment, she lay still, wondering where she was, then the truth crashed in on her. She was somewhere in Midacea.
‘Maida?’ she said softly, but only the rustling of the leaves answered. She sat up, pulling one of the blankets around her. ‘Maida?’ she repeated. Her eyes quickly became accustomed to the soft light of Yatil and she saw that she was alone here in this small stand of low trees. Above her, a rude shelter hung limply, barely stirring in the breeze. She shivered and cursed softly.
‘Ice and wind!’ she hissed. ‘You’ve left me here, haven’t you?’ Myrrhini stood up and walked to the edge of the thicket, looking around. The sea of grass waved and hissed, but she saw nothing else moving. Maida and her shapeshifter were long gone.
The strange ability that had somehow brought her here had faded, superseded by hunger, loneliness and fear. The loneliness was like an old friend, the fear a comfortable cloak, but the hunger was an unwelcome visitor. She needed food and drink, and would find little here.
‘Time to walk again,’ she muttered. It seemed that since fleeing the Place, she had done a lot of walking alone. ‘At least this time I won’t freeze.’ She pulled the blanket down from the trees and left. With her first step, she stood hard on a broken branch which stabbed into her, drawing both blood and a cry of pain. ‘But last time I had boots.’ She limped out from under the shelter of the thicket and headed east, carrying one blanket with the other wrapped around her.
With every step, dust rose and swirled, and it seemed that every blade of the tall grass was edged like a small jagged sword. The blanket she had wrapped around her dragged on the ground, meaning she was constantly holding it, adjusting it and trying to keep it from falling off entirely.
The dust that rose mixed with the tiny floating fragments of the grass to create a cloud that moved with her, carrying an attendant swarm of tiny opportunistic bugs who constantly attempted to land on her lips or the corners of her eyes. With one hand holding her blanket on, and the other carrying the second blanket, she found herself quickly crying aloud in frustration. It was about then that the biting insects arrived.
The bites on her shoulders and face were bad enough, but the insects quickly discovered the sheltered area under the blanket and started to bite all over her body. The bites started out irritating, but they rapidly built into a wash of pain. Each step brought a stab of pain from the uneven ground and more bites.
Myrrhini walked as long as she could before the dust, the cutting grass and the insects drove her to her knees. She dropped to the ground and pulled the blanket over her, trying to shelter herself from the bugs. It worked for a while, but the air under the blanket rapidly heated and she found herself gasping for air.
It was almost a relief when she heard the thunder of hooves approaching from the west. She toyed with the idea of hunkering down and hoping to escape notice amid the waist-high grass, but when something bit her on a particularly sensitive spot, she stood up. The horsemen saw her almost immediately and wheeled around to gallop straight at her. She was ready for them and when the lead rider reached down from his saddle to scoop her up, she dropped beneath his arms. He lost balance slightly, which she capitalised upon by grabbing his wrist and wrenching hard. He fell with a startled cry and landed heavily at her feet.
He reacted quickly and rolled, preparing to draw his sword, but she was ready and kicked the weapon from his grasp before it was fully drawn.
‘Is that any way to treat a lady, Itxtli?’ she asked.
The achulti stepped back and regarded her with an unsurprised look.
‘Your pardon, Lady,’ he said. ‘Normally I would fight anyone who dragged me out of my saddle, but in this case, I will make an exception.’ He bowed, a little exaggeratedly, and stooped to retrieve his sword. ‘I assume you wish to rejoin us?’ he said when his weapon was safely sheathed.
‘Yes.’
Itxtli looked up at the men who had now circled them, all with amused looks on their faces. All except Huitzilin, who glowered at Myrrhini with undisguised contempt.
No, not at me — at Itxtli, Myrrhini realised. Contempt? What is that for?
‘Get the Lady a horse,’ Itxtli said. He looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time. ‘And see if we have any clothes that might be more suitable.’
They rode hard for the rest of the day, stopping only briefly to water the horses. The sun was scorching hot, high in the pale blue sky. Myrrhini did not see a cloud until nearly sunset when a large storm cloud appeared on the horizon. It moved fast, coming in from the sea to the west. By the time night fell, it was nearly above them and the air smelt different.
One of the Agents noticed her sniffing the air and pulled his horse in beside hers as they continued pushing even as the night darkened.
‘Sssa,’ he said. ‘You smell it, too.’
‘What am I smelling?’
‘The storm.’ He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the massive pile of dark clouds. ‘By the look of that it will be a hard night.’
They stopped soon after, in the lee of a rocky outcrop, just as the first heavy drops started to fall. Rather than set tents, they sheltered under a jutting ledge, huddling close as the temperature plummeted, with the horses forming a protective semicircle around them. Dried rations were passed around, together with waterskins, while they waited for the storm to hit.
The first flash of lightning was blinding, cutting the sky like a knife, sending the countryside into harsh relief. In the moment of illumination, Myrrhini saw concern on the faces of t
he Agents surrounding her. In the blackness immediately following the flash came the startlingly loud crack of thunder.
‘Ice and wind, that’s close!’ an Agent muttered.
As if the lightning were a signal, the rain started to fall in astonishing quantities. Myrrhini, living deep in a thick forest, and accustomed to northern storms which were steady falls that could last for days, gradually settling into snow, had never seen a storm like this, on an open plain. Not even in her long, painful trek across the vast northern tundra had she seen anything that came close to this naked ferocity.
The rain fell so hard it roared. The lightning flashed more often than she thought possible, bringing so much thunder the sound rumbled across the grassland in almost constant percussion. Combined with the pounding rain, Myrrhini felt oddly isolated, even packed in with all the Agents pressing in against her. Communication was impossible and no one even tried.
Beneath her bare feet, the ground had turned to black, clinging mud that oozed between her toes and seemed to creep up her legs. The Agents closest to her shifted and fidgeted, uneasy in the violence of the storm, and frequently stood on her feet with their boots. In the noise they could not hear her cries of pain.
The storm passed by some time after Yatil had set and just before Grada had fully cleared the horizon. The fact that she saw both moons was the best indication of the clearing of the skies and the slow fading of the storm’s ferocity. When it ended, the night was cold and she was soaked to the skin despite the shelter of the overhanging rocks. The ground was mired in black mud and the wind swung around to come from the east, bringing the icy chill of the distant mountains. Myrrhini was as miserable as she could remember being.
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