The Crystal Eye

by Deborah Chester

  “I said I heard the speech already,” he said more sharply. “It’s crazy, Goldie. Crazy.”

  “It’s necessary.”

  “No. We should turn around and head back to the old region. We did fine there.”

  “We were starving there when we left,” she reminded him. “That’s why we came to the fields.”

  “Yeah, and our luck keeps going bad the closer we get to Vir.”

  “We’re not going any closer to the city,” she told him. “If I succeed, we’ll never have to go there.”

  “Except you.”

  She nodded. “Except me.”

  He snarled and rubbed his narrow muzzle. “I don’t like it. Too risky, see?”

  “Elrabin, this land is polluted and dying. You saw what Luax killed when we first made camp here.”

  Elrabin snarled with distaste. “Ain’t eating no two-headed grassen.”

  “Of course not. But if we find one deformity, there are bound to be others. This land is polluted. We could get sick here.”

  “Then we just leave,” Elrabin said.

  She nodded. “I agree. But we’re so close to Vir right now, closer than we’ve been in years.”

  “Yeah. Too close. Makes my fur stand up every time I think about it,” Elrabin muttered.

  “But when will I ever have this opportunity again?” she persisted, repeating some of the arguments she’d used to persuade the others.

  “Yeah, yeah, the great opportunities,” he said without enthusiasm.

  “We need information,” she said. “This drought is ruining what remains of good land and water. We have to find ways to live other than the old hunting and gathering system.”

  “We can head for Lazmairehl and steal what we need from there.”

  “That’s a good way to get killed.” she said sadly. “We tried that before, remember?”

  “Yeah, it’s risky, but so what? We got—”

  “And is my visiting the Archives any riskier?” she broke in. “Once we know how to preserve food, we can travel far from here and find land unpolluted by the Viis settlements.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you made a big argument for that. But I’m looking at the practical, see? How you going to walk all the way to Vir from here by yourself? How’s that leg of yours going to hold up?”

  “I’ll make it.”

  “Oh, sure.”

  She glared at him. “I know my capabilities and limitations. I can make it.”

  “Fine,” he snapped in reply. “But you got to hunt. That takes time, especially in unfamiliar territory. You don’t got enough time. Harthril’s crowding you on that deadline.”

  “I’ll manage,” she said.

  Elrabin snarled something beneath his breath. “With those cubs to keep up with? They’ll slow you down, and you need—”

  “I’m not taking the cubs.”

  His eyes widened, and he stuttered a moment before he forced anything out. “Not taking them,” he repeated. “Where they be going, then?”

  “I want them to stay with you,” Ampris said.

  By now the light was growing stronger. She could see the open dismay in his expression before he ducked his head.

  “Can’t do it, Goldie,” he said. “Can’t do it.”

  “You must,” she said, suddenly worried that he might truly refuse. “You’re the only one I trust to take good care of them.”

  “Aw, that ain’t it,” he said. “You got to understand that I—”

  “I know they’re difficult—”

  “Difficult!” he said with a yip. “That’s saying it low.”

  “I’ll talk to them before I go,” she promised. “They can behave. And they’ve known you all their lives.”

  “That don’t mean we like each other. We don’t get along, Goldie. Sorry. But the cubs don’t like me, never have.”

  He fell abruptly silent, but she could guess the rest of what he’d been about to say.

  “And you don’t like them,” she said softly. “Is that it?”

  He squirmed, but met her eyes. “Not much.”

  Disappointment sank through her. She couldn’t argue with him, when he put it that bluntly. “I’m sorry,” she said at last. “I’ve tried and tried, but they have so much against them. I feel so sorry for them, yet I can’t make the world any easier, no matter what I do.”

  “Maybe that’s what you’re doing wrong.”

  “What? Making things too easy?”

  “Feeling sorry for them.”

  “I—” Her protest died in her throat. She backed her ears, not liking what she was hearing. But he was talking truth, and she knew it. She sighed. “I guess you’re right.”

  “You been trying to raise them like Aarouns, see?” Elrabin said. “They ain’t Aaroun.”

  “What do I do, bring them up as Viis?” she retorted, stung.

  “They ain’t Viis either.”

  “Then what—”

  “I don’t know, Goldie. Wish I did. But I ain’t no advice machine. Only, what you been doing up till now ain’t working so good. They be trouble walking on legs. Lots of trouble.”

  “But they can be good,” she said, wanting it to be so. “They’re smart and clever. They learn more every day.”

  “Ain’t learned enough.”

  “And what were you like at their age? Living on the streets? Thieving? Being sold at auction?”

  He sucked air through his teeth, making a low whistling sound. “That ain’t a fair thing to say.”

  “Truth can hurt,” she said, then raised her hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to quarrel with you. I just want to know they’re safe, and with someone who will protect them—from themselves as much as anything.”

  He sat in silence a long while, then sighed. “What can I say?” he finally muttered. “You going off to risk your neck for all of us, and I can’t turn you down.”

  “Then you’ll do it?” she asked, holding her breath.

  After a long pause, Elrabin shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I will,” he said as though disgusted with himself.

  Ampris grinned in relief. “Thank you, Elrabin! I knew I could depend on you.”

  “Just for twenty days,” he said sharply. “Ain’t taking this job forever, see? If you don’t come back—”

  “Believe me,” she said happily. “Going to Vir is the last risk I want to take. But think of it . . . a chance to access the Archives.”

  “If they still be there,” he said. “You always been a nut for knowledge, but from what I can tell, all that you learn just gives you more crazy ideas.”

  “This is the source,” she said in excitement. “The largest information base in the entire empire. We can learn so much, discover—”

  He reached out and put his hand over her muzzle to silence her. “The Crimson Claw is back, I be thinking.”

  She shoved his hand away in annoyance. “No. That’s over.”

  “Ampris and her Freedom Network.”

  “No. That’s over too. Long gone. There couldn’t be anything left after all this time.”

  His eyes bored into hers, missing nothing. “You saying that now, Goldie, but in your heart you be hoping for otherwise.”

  “I am going straight to the Archives. I am going to get the information we need to survive, and I’m going to return.” she said grimly, her ears back. “That’s all. If I don’t return in the amount of time we agreed on, then the group can move into Vir and live off the dole. That’s the deal. I’ll keep my end.”

  Elrabin shook his head, chuckling softly. “And you really think that’s the way it will go down.”

  “I know it will,” she said firmly. “I gave my word.”

  He leaned back against a boulder and rubbed his head as though it still hurt him. “Well, well. I climbed up here, thinking I would suggest we part company with the rest of the group. Let ’em march off to Vir and be shackled faster than they can blink. You, me, Velia, maybe Tantha, and Robuhl. Those cubs of yours. Plenty of folk to stick together. W
e head out on our own. We’d do fine.”

  She looked at him sadly, wondering how to refuse his offer. “Oh, Elrabin.”

  He held up his hand. “But as soon as I got up here and started hearing that old snap in your voice, I knew my idea be no good. Getting into Vir makes your blood pump like in the old days. You can shake your head at me, but you miss that old excitement. I know it. You know it.”

  “Off for adventure, eh?” she said lightly, not denying it.

  “Yeah.” He stared at her a moment longer, then leaned forward. “Okay, now listen close. If you be set on this craziness, then you be set. When you get to Vir, providing you get there, it ain’t going to be no swim to get inside. The city is locked up under security fields, see?”

  She nodded. “The walls. I remember.”

  “More than walls. Security fields and guards that be checking registrations.”

  Ampris touched her arm. “I’d been thinking about how I was going to get past that. I guess I was hoping the security would be lighter for those trying to enter—”

  He yipped scornfully. “Naive you still be sometimes, you know that? Look, the scanners will be calibrated pretty tight for the implants. That means they can be messed with easy. You got to wait by the gates for a transport or a cargo hauler.”

  “And I hitch aboard?” she asked eagerly.

  “Yeah, hop on back and hide in that sweet spot where the cams can’t pick you up. But pick one hauling metals, see? It messes up the scanners.”

  “I understand.”

  “Once you’re in—”

  “I can do that part,” she broke in impatiently with a glance at the ruddy horizon. “The sun’s almost up. The cubs will be waking soon.”

  Elrabin gripped her wrist hard. “Listen,” he said, sharply. “No one here knows the ghetto better than me. You ain’t never been in it. There’s territories you got to cross, going west, to get to the Archives, see? But you also got to get through the barrier before you can get to the palace district of the city.”

  “Without an implant, I can go through.”

  “But not with patrollers around. Not with sniffers hovering. You wait until dark, then you go through. Go with a crowd, so the scanners don’t count you and notice there ain’t no number. Got that?”

  “Yes, Elrabin,” she said impatiently.

  “Then, you got to stay off public transit, if it still works. Stay away from vids. Stay away from—”

  “Elrabin,” she broke in. “I can do this. I really can. Stop worrying so much.”

  He swiveled his tall ears back. “Just want you to return in one piece, Goldie.”

  “I know,” she said, grateful to have such a good friend. “Believe me, I intend to be. But now it’s time to go.”

  He opened his mouth to say something else, but Ampris rose to her feet, cutting off the conversation. They were just hashing over matters that had already been discussed and settled, and she saw no need to cover it again, especially since dawn had arrived. It was time for her to bid farewell to her cubs and go.

  She wanted a fast departure.

  Climbing down the hill, she returned to camp. Both of her sons were awake. Their bedrolls lay in scattered disarray, and they were passing the water skin back and forth between them in a rare show of cooperation.

  Pleased, Ampris smiled at them. “My sons,” she said.

  Both cubs looked up at her. Foloth rose to his feet, but Nashmarl stayed crouched on the ground with the water skin in his hands.

  Ampris gazed at them, her heart a tangle of love and sadness. She did not want to leave them, but there was no easy way to break the news.

  “I am leaving you for a time,” she said.

  Foloth yawned and stretched himself. “Are you going to hunt all day?” he asked. “I’ll go with you.”

  “No,” she said.

  “Nashmarl here has to spend the day digging a latrine,” Foloth said with a smirk. “But I’m free to—”

  “I said no, Foloth,” Ampris broke in. “Thank you for the offer, but I am not going hunting. I am going to Vir to visit the Imperial Archives. It will take me perhaps six or eight days of walking to get there and at least that long to get back. I—”

  “Wait,” Nashmarl said, rising to his feet. He stared at her in consternation. “You’re going to Vir? Why?”

  “Yes, why?” Foloth echoed.

  Side by side, her sons stared at her. She smiled at them, reaching out to caress Foloth’s jaw, then tweaking the folds of Nashmarl’s hood, which lay back on his shoulders.

  “To help the group survive better,” she said. “It was decided last night.”

  “Are you being shunned?” Nashmarl asked, his green eyes suddenly wide with fear. “Are you being driven out of the group?”

  “Don’t be stupid,” Foloth said to him impatiently. “You’re the problem, not her. They’d shun you, but never her.”

  “What do you know?” Nashmarl retorted. “She’s leaving.”

  “Both of you, listen to me,” Ampris said firmly. “I’m not being shunned or driven away. I will be back as quickly as I can, in about twenty days.”

  “You’re going too far,” Nashmarl said. “It’s dangerous in Vir.”

  “Yes, there are risks,” she agreed evenly. “But you must remember that I grew up in the city. As did Elrabin—”

  “Is he going with you?” Foloth asked sharply.

  “No,” she said. “I am going alone.”

  “Why?” Nashmarl asked.

  Foloth said, “I will go with you.”

  She smiled at her eldest son, who looked so fierce and protective. “Thank you, Foloth, but this journey I must make alone.”

  “But why just you?” Nashmarl persisted. “Why not everyone?”

  “Elrabin will explain things to you,” Ampris said. “I must get ready.”

  Leaving the cubs exchanging puzzled looks, she collected her neatly tied bedroll and filled a battered rucksack with a change of clothing, a small wooden box filled with salve made from tanbok fat and herbs, the side-arm with its half-depleted charge, and a packet of fat, bright yellow pumkana seeds that she’d saved for emergency rations. She had just finished packing these few items when Luax and Tantha came to her.

  Luax stepped up first and handed her a small sack of chuffie roots, freshly dug that morning. “May your journey go swift and well, Ampris,” she said formally. “May your return be swift.”

  Ampris was touched by her kindness. She took the roots with gratitude. “Thank you, Luax.”

  Tantha shouldered up beside the Reject female and bared her teeth at Ampris. She reached out and touched the Eye of Clarity hanging around Ampris’s neck. “Come back to us, Golden One.”

  “I intend to,” Ampris replied.

  Tantha handed her a full water skin. As Ampris slung it over her shoulder by its leather cord, the weight of it felt reassuring. She did not know how much drinkable water she would be able to find on her journey. The Plains of Filea were so arid they were almost desert.

  “Thank you, Tantha,” Ampris said. “It is good to leave with the gift of fresh water.”

  “You come back to us safe,” Tantha said fiercely.

  “I will.”

  By then everyone had assembled in a circle around her, Ampris looked at their faces, some containing sorrow, others looking hopeful, and some, like Frenshala’s, appearing indifferent. Clutching her Eye of Clarity, Ampris smiled at each of them, then turned back to her sons.

  The cubs looked very grave and alarmed. She realized she should have taken more time to prepare them for what had to seem like an abrupt departure, but she knew they would be all right in Elrabin’s care.

  The Kelth stood behind the cubs now, with Velia beside him. He nudged his mate, and Velia scuttled forward with visible reluctance to press a small pouch of leather into Ampris’s hand. Although the top was tightly closed with a drawstring, Ampris smelled the pungent aroma of herbs.

  “To refresh you when you are weary,”
Velia said. Her tilted golden-brown eyes met Ampris’s briefly, then she darted back to Elrabin’s side.

  Ampris thanked her, but it was Elrabin who smiled in return.

  “I want to go with you, Mother,” Foloth said. His voice sounded small, with none of its usual assurance.

  She shook her head and then pulled him close and gave his forehead a lick of love. “You mind Elrabin and Velia,” she said. “Do as they tell you. Stay out of trouble. Promise me this, Foloth.”

  He glowered, and she took his head between her hands, holding his gaze with her own. “Promise me,” she repeated.

  “All right,” he said at last. “I promise.”

  She released him and reached for Nashmarl. But he ducked out of her grasp, refusing her caress. His green eyes were dark with emotions. “You might not come back.”

  “I will,” she promised him, understanding his fears. “I promise I will.”

  “Can’t promise something like that,” he whispered.

  Elrabin stepped closer to him and gripped his shoulders from behind. “Goldie always keeps her word,” he said.

  Ampris smiled at him. “Be well, my old friend.”

  He nodded, and she knew her good-byes were over. She turned abruptly and set her face toward Vir, lengthening her stride as the sun lifted above the horizon and spread its morning rays of gold through the trunks of the forest. She did not look back.

  CHAPTER•EIGHT

  Eleven days later, Ampris came hobbling over the last dusty rise and saw the walls of Vir towering before her. For the past three days she’d been able to see the city, like a beacon before her, shimmering distantly through the heat waves, giving her hope despite the raw sores on her feet and the grinding pain in her crippled leg. Now she stumbled to a halt, breathing hard and feeling light-headed from heat exhaustion. It was mid-afternoon, she knew by the harsh slant of the sun, a time when she should have been resting under the sorry shade of a bush, but Ampris was too close now to rest. She forced herself to keep going, planting one foot in front of the other without looking up—until now . . . when the city stood across her path in all its immensity.

  The walls ran as far as she could see on either side of the wide gates. To her right, a slum of decrepit hovels and lean-tos grew from the base of the wall like an unhealthy fungus. Even at this distance, she could smell the stink of the place. She knew immediately what it was, although she had never seen it except on occasional vidcasts when she was a cub. Reject Town, it was called by some.