As he neared the lights, he caught sight of Haradan using his firebrand to keep something at bay, something that was hovering over his head making strange sucking noises. Dhal heard the hum of fast-beating wings, then there was a trilling noise that overshadowed the derkat’s screams. Something brushed his head. He looked up to find one of the ghost lights right above him. Instinctively he raised his firebrand, poking it upward at the descending globe of light. As the night creature bobbed up and away, Dhal had the distinct impression of long spider legs dangling either side of the light.
“Dhal, over here! Help!” Haradan was trying to fight off two of the light dancers. Ducking left then right, he started running, then he stumbled and fell. One of the light creatures dropped onto him before Dhal could move.
Suddenly a dark shadow hit the light dancer, knocking it away from Haradan. As Dhal ran toward Haradan, Ssaal-lr’s challenge rang through the air. A high-pitched whine followed the derkat’s cry. The sound was almost deafening. Then it ended abruptly.
Haradan was getting up by the time Dhal reached his side. “Look,” he cried, pointing. “They’re leaving!”
Dhal glanced up at the bobbing lights, then turned back to Haradan. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I think so—thanks to Screech. Damn thing had something around my neck before I could do anything.”
“Let me see.” Dhal raised his torch and checked Haradan over. There was an odd-looking red mark around his neck, but he seemed to be all in one piece.
“If Ssaal-lr hadn’t chased that thing away, I’d be—”
“Not chased,” Dhal interrupted. “Captured. Listen.”
They heard a strange clicking noise off to their right. It was followed by a soft growl. “Over there,” Dhal said, “Let’s see what he’s got.”
As their light found Ssaal-lr, he looked up and coughed a greeting. He was standing quietly, licking at a wound on his right forearm. He stepped aside, letting the light fall full on the night creature he had torn from Haradan’s back.
Dhal felt his stomach heave as he saw the mass that had once been a light creature. There were long tangled legs, thin and spidery, and torn wings that were as black as the night. A large glutinous sack that must have been part of the creature’s body lay partially deflated, a strange glowing fluid pouring out onto the ground. A head was attached to the sack. It was black and furry with a pair of multifaceted eyes glinting red in the torchlight. The eyes were still alive. As Dhal watched, the creature stirred, a long, thin, cordlike tongue flicking out. They all stepped back a pace or two, even Ssaal-lr, who growled a warning. Then the thing shuddered twice and lay still.
A few moments passed. “Think it’s dead?” Dhal asked.
“Let’s hope,” Haradan replied.
“What is it, Haradan? I’ve never heard of anything like it.”
“Haven’t you, Dhal? Think back to the swamp. What is it that comes each fall and lights the marshlands at night? Think small.”
“Small?”
“Insect size.”
“You’re not talking about feeders, are you?”
“Yes. Don’t you see it? They’re much the same except for size.”
“But feeders don’t grow this big.”
“Not in the Deep, they don’t,” Haradan said, “but we aren’t in the Deep any longer. I’ve never heard of feeders this large, but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. If this isn’t a feeder, then I’d say it’s a distant cousin. And knowing how feeders kill, I’d like you to take another look at my neck. If the skin is broken anywhere and it managed to pump some of its poison into me, we’re going to need some frenza root and quickly.”
Fortunately, they did not need the antidote for feeder poison. The burn around Haradan’s neck was surface only, and the cut on Ssaal-lr’s arm had come from Haradan’s knife when the derkat had jumped the feeder.
In the morning the body of the giant feeder was gone. Haradan and Dhal were not surprised. Insect feeders were known to eat each other.
On their fifteenth day in the mountains they reached the deep V-shaped gap Haradan had pointed out days before. For the next six hours they followed a dry streambed downward. Suddenly the ground leveled off and they found themselves in an open grassy area. There were trees here and here, but not like the towering giants they had passed under during their climb upward.
Ssaal-lr found a clear patch of stone that seemed to be a wedge of a very old and narrow walkway. “The legends say that once there was a Ni-lach city in the mountains,” Poco said. “A city would need roads.”
“Forget roads for a minute,” Haradan said. “Look at the land. Doesn’t it look to you like a crop field? See how square it’s cut. It’s overgrown with bush and vine, but you can still see where the forest was pushed back.”
“Do you think someone might be living up here?” Poco asked.
“It’s possible,” Haradan replied. “But not likely. These fields haven’t been used in a long time. It would take years for some of those bushes to grow as big as they are. And when you consider the number of gensvolf we’ve seen, and those giant feeders, who in their right minds would want to live up here?”
They were halfway across the field when Dhal heard Gi’s whistle. He looked past Efan, who was walking just ahead of him. He could not see Gi but he could see the tall grass moving as the olvaar ran toward them.
“Something wrong?” Haradan asked as Gi whistled again.
Efan, who had not said a word all morning, answered. “Gi says something about a draak.”
Dhal glanced at Efan, a twinge of jealousy flitting through his mind. The secret language of the olvaar was a secret no longer. But he knew that he had no one to blame but himself: Efan knew the olvaar language because Gi and Dhal had taught it to him.
Dhal’s thoughts were quickly pushed aside as Gi ran up, his whistle-clicks shrill in the air. Dhal translated. “Screech has found a draak lair. A big one. Tracks all over. Many draak! Hurry! Run!”
They wasted no time talking—they needed to find cover quickly. They were almost across the grassy field when they heard from Ssaal-lr, his high-pitched yowl making the hairs on the back of Dhal’s neck stand upright. There followed the hissing roar of an aroused draak. They all started running again, toward a stand of trees straight ahead.
Again they heard the derkat’s cry. Turning, Dhal saw Ssaal-lr running across the field. Right behind him ran the largest land draak Dhal had ever seen. Dhal heard Haradan whistle softly. The size of the creature was unbelievable. It had to be at least the size of the sea draak they had seen in Sar-ruel, and for a land draak, that was large!
The draak was fast and was closing on the derkat. Objects that Ssaal-lr had to go around, the draak simply crushed out of his way. Ssaal-lr was running head up and tail curled around his body.
“Come on, Screech,” Poco cried softly. “Run! Run!”
Suddenly the derkat swung east. Somehow he managed to stay just ahead of the angry draak. “He’s leading it away,” Dhal cried.
“Damn fool,” Poco said. “He’s going to get himself killed!” She turned and looked at Dhal. “We’ve got to help him!”
Haradan and Dhal traded glances. “What do you suggest?” Haradan asked the girl. “We have no weapons with which to fight such a monster. It looks to me as if Screech is doing the only thing possible. We’ll have to trust him to know what he’s doing.”
“Gi said that there are other draak around,” Dhal said. “We had best keep our eyes open. I also think it might be a good idea to move away from this open field. It’s probably in the draak’s home territory. After Ssaal-lr outruns the draak he’ll come looking for us. We can leave him a trail by marking the trees. I think he’ll understand and follow.”
“If he outruns the draak,” Poco said.
“He will,” Dhal assured her.
“I don’t want to leave here without him,” she protested.
“It will be getting dark soon, Poco,” he explained. “We won’t go
far, just up this hillside into denser cover.”
Twenty minutes later they had located a reasonably secure place overlooking the valley. There was a rock wall at their backs and several climbable trees to either side of them.
While the others set up camp, Dhal climbed one of the trees to see if he could locate Ssaal-lr or the giant draak. But when he reached the top branches he found the field empty, the shadows of the trees beginning to crawl across the grass. Turning, he looked down valley, then something caught his eyes.
He climbed a branch or two higher and found a place where he had a full view of the valley below. There was a building there, shaded deep rust and orange by the last rays of daylight. Dhal sat clutching his perch, afraid to close his eyes lest the vision fade. It was not possible!
As Ra-gar slipped below the horizon, shadows engulfed the building. Raising his eyes, Dhal drew in a shaky breath. When he looked back down, all was darkness in the valley below. He could no longer see the building, but he knew it was there— waiting for him.
A voice came up from below. It was Haradan. “Dhal, have you gone to sleep up there? Ssaal-lr’s back. Come down.”
Looking one last time toward the darkened valley, Dhal turned around and began his descent, feeling his way carefully from branch to branch. Haradan waited below, a frown creasing his forehead. The reflected light of the small campfire had turned his face brown and shadowed. Suddenly he looked old to Dhal, old and tired.
“You said Screech was back?” Dhal asked, swinging down.
“Yes,” Haradan answered, spotting him. “He outran the draak and left it wallowing in a mud bog over on the other side of the valley.” He started back toward the others. “You were up there long enough.”
“Yes.”
“Yes?” Haradan knew something was wrong. “Did you see something up there, Dhal?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Ssaal-lr’s ears pricked forward as Haradan and Dhal approached. He coughed a greeting to which Dhal replied, imitating the sound as best he could.
Poco smiled. “Thought we lost you up that tree,” she said, eyes twinkling. “What did you do, take a nap when you reached the top?”
“No.”
Poco’s smile faded. Haradan caught his arm, turning him around. “What’s wrong, Dhal? What did you see up there?”
“The men who were following us?” Poco asked, alarmed.
“No. It was something else.”
“What?” Haradan demanded impatiently.
“Val-hrodhur—the ring world.”
Haradan’s hand shot to the pouch at his waist. “But I’ve got your ring!”
“I know. I didn’t need it this time.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Haradan, it’s in the valley below us. I saw it from the top of the tree. It’s the same building I saw before, the teaching center of Val-hrodhur.”
“Are you sure?”
Dhal nodded.
“Perhaps it only looked like it, Dhal,” Poco offered.
“No, I don’t think so. The building is very unusual. You’ll understand when you see it.”
For long moments they all just stared at each other. “When you told us about Val-hrodhur and the people who lived there, I got the impression that it was more than a small community of Ni,” Haradan said finally. “Yet we’ve seen few signs of life and all of them old. Surely we would have come upon a few of your people by now if they were still living in the area.”
“Not if they’re in hiding,” Poco said. “The Ni were hunted out of Sarissa territory years ago, Haradan. You couldn’t blame them if they failed to greet wandering strangers with open arms.”
Ssaal-lr asked a question. “Dhal tell us again about ring world Ni. Friends? Enemies?”
“Friends, I think,” Dhal answered. “But after what happened to me the last time I saw them, I could be wrong.”
Sitting down near the campfire, Dhal went over all that he could remember of the Ni-lach he had met in Val-hrodhur. By the time he had finished answering everyone’s questions, full darkness was upon them and it was decided that they would leave the mystery of Val-hrodhur until morning. They kept a double watch that night.
Chapter 23
DHAL WOKE THE NEXT MORNING WITH A TINGLE OF UNEASINESS stirring in the back of his mind. He had thought about Val-hrodhur and the Tamorlee long into the night. Torn between wanting to know more and wishing it all was a dream, he had gone over each of his brief journeys into the ring world, trying to piece the momentary fragments into a complete picture.
But there had been something missing, some piece of information that gnawed at the edge of his mind, some feeling of wrongness he could not interpret. Exhausted, he had finally fallen asleep, the mystery of the Tamorlee fading into dreams.
They shared a breakfast of dried soma bread, garval cheese, and hot herb tea. Speaking with his hands while he chewed on the hard bread, Ssaal-lr suggested that they split their forces. “Gi and Ssaal-lr go to valley, look for Ni-lach. Rest stay here.”
“No, Screech,” Dhal said. “If anyone goes to see what lies in the lower valley, it should be me.”
“Not alone,” Haradan and Poco said at the same time.
“I think it’s best we all stay together,” Haradan added. Poco nodded in agreement.
“All right,” Dhal said. “Together, then.”
Within minutes their things were gathered and packed. Ssaal-lr led off, Poco and Haradan right behind. Gi rode Dhal’s shoulder, his soft, furry body brushing against Dhal’s ear, his small hand twined in Dhal’s hair to give him balance.
Efan followed last. Dhal had gone no more than several hundred paces when Gi turned and looked behind them. “Efan not coming,” he whistled.
Dhal turned and saw that Efan stood in the shadow of the trees where they had camped. “Something wrong?” he called back.
After a moment’s hesitation, Efan shook his head.
“Well, hurry up then,” Dhal hollered. “This is draak territory and no place to find yourself alone.”
Efan’s head turned toward the open grassland to the east, then he started after them. Dhal waited. “Keep your eyes on him, Gi,” he said softly. “See that we don’t leave him behind.”
“What wrong with Efan? Sad his face.”
“I don’t know, Gi. Just keep your eye out for him, all right?”
It took them over an hour to reach the lower valley and the ruins of the building he had seen while climbing the tree. “Well,” Haradan asked, “is it the same one?”
They stood in front of the large doorway situated on the east side of the building. It was just as Dhal remembered it except for the vine and bush that had formed a woven barrier across the opening. Gone were the wooden doors that had barred the entrance. The vines did not reach the great triangular stone peaks that formed the support for the roof, so much of the top portion of the building was visible.
“Dhal?” Poco said softly.
Turning from the building, he let Gi down from his shoulder and looked south across the valley to the line of trees. They had followed a draak run through the woods that separated the upper valley from the lower. The wild tangle of vine and branches had proved that it had been a very long time since anyone had harvested firewood in either valley. This was not Val-hrodhur. It was empty of life and had been for many years.
“Dhal,” Poco repeated, touching his arm. “Is this the place you saw in your dreams?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. The building looks the same except for the vines. But over there”—he pointed southwest toward the cliffs—“there should be a giant aban tree unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. I forgot about it last night.”
“Dhal, has it occurred to you that the Ni-lach may have built more then one community such as Val-hrodhur? More than one building just like the one you see here?”
“It’s possible, but—”
“But what?”
Dhal could not explain. T
his was not Val-hrodhur and yet… The uneasiness that had stalked him since waking coursed through his body in unseen tremors. He turned back to the building. “Let’s try to get inside. I’d like to look around.”
The building was empty, the roof caved in and rotted. Only the stone walls remained standing. Haradan and Dhal poked around inside the ruins, then they went back outside where Efan and Poco were sitting in the shade of some bushes.
“Find anything?” Poco asked.
“Nothing but rotting timbers,” Haradan answered. “It’s been abandoned a long time.”
“How long?”
“Hard to tell, Poco. Judging from the timbers we found, I’d say fifteen to twenty years, maybe longer.”
“About the time of the Sarissa war against the Ni?”
“Could be.”
Dhal looked at Haradan. “You think the Sarissa came this far into the mountains after the Ni?”
Haradan shrugged. “I don’t know. Efan, do you know anything about the Sarissa attacking the Ni-lach up here?”
Efan nodded. “Yes, a little. I was once told that over five hundred Sarissa marched into the mountains near the end of the war. Most of them never returned. The Ni turned out to be fierce fighters when cornered.”
“I don’t understand why the Sarissa would come all this way into the mountains,” Dhal said.
“They believed there was a treasure hidden here,” Efan explained. “Personally, I believe that’s what started the war. Isn’t that what starts most wars? One group wanting what another group has?” Efan’s voice was tinged with disgust.
“You spoke about a treasure once before, Efan,” Dhal said, squatting down so he was eye level with the boy. “Regent Lasca said something about it too. That was the first time I ever heard about the Tamorlee. Think back. Did your father ever say exactly what this treasure was supposed to be?”
“No.”
“Did he ever say anything about the Tamorlee?”
Efan hesitated, then shook his head. “No, not that I remember.”
Where The Ni-Lach Page 20