by CK Dawn
But after they had gone, it was Gally who was her biggest problem.
“Gally will go with Kantees.”
She did not know what to say. She did not simply want to forbid him because it did not seem the decent thing to do. She wanted him to at least understand enough to make the decision himself.
“I must make the golden flower with Sheesha, Gally.” She did not know if the others could do it. And as it was, she would be asking Sheesha to do something so very dangerous she might kill them both before they even reached the raiders. “You must stay here with Looesa and Shingul so they are here when Yenteel and Ulina return.”
“Gally knows all die, maybe.”
She sighed. “Yes. We may not come back.”
“Gally knows you must do the good thing.”
She smiled with tears in her eyes. He understood.
“You have enough food to stay here two nights, Gally. If no one has come you can fly back to the burned village and stay with them. Lintha will look after you.”
“Yenteel likes Lintha.”
“He does. And Lintha will be sad if we don’t come back. But Gally, stay two nights and then go to Lintha. You understand?”
“Gally knows.”
And that was the best she could do.
She looked up at Colimar. Yenteel was knowledgeable about the stars as well and he gave her instructions. And the time had come.
She gave Gally a kiss on his cheek. “I will return as soon as I can.”
“Goodbye, Kantees of the Ziri.”
She suppressed her frown and did not tell him off for using the name. She wanted him to be as happy as possible.
Now she was hoping Looesa and Shingul did not get it into their heads to follow Sheesha. They had no reins or tethers, so there was nothing Gally could do to stop them, but it would spoil everything if they did.
Thankfully, as she urged Sheesha into the air, the other two remained on the ground.
She had Sheesha dip down to the sea so they would not be observed, and only started him into a climb when they were a good distance out. It was strange, she thought, how she never felt unsafe when she was on his back, even though she had no saddle and no buckles. Riding this way seemed so much more natural.
As he spiralled up, she saw the raiders’ camp. The fires were lower now. She thought she could hear singing—raucous and tuneless. It was pierced by a child’s scream. She shivered as it penetrated her heart like a knife. What if that was Ulina? They would not hesitate to torture her.
And even if it wasn’t her, it could be Jakanda, or one of the others.
She must stay with the plan. But what if Yenteel had been captured too?
On the next of Sheesha’s spiral turns the camp looked different, as if it was fading out. The fires were blurred and indistinct. On the next turn it was clear the mist had risen. Yenteel had not been captured; he had used the first of Lintha’s patterns. Now that the mist was firmly in place, it was as if it had a long tail that stretched from the camp all the way to the cliff and down into the sea. It wasn’t localised around the camp but spread out in the valley, filling it up to the ridges on either side and spilling over.
That was her signal.
Without another word from her, Sheesha dived. She leaned forwards onto his neck and wrapped her arms around it. This was the third time and she was used to it, and she even felt a confident calm from Sheesha himself.
The magic within him boiled up and overflowed. This time she tried to stay in control, not just be a passenger. The golden glow flowed around them. Sheesha’s wings folded back. She aimed at the river of mist. It took a fraction of a second and they were into it.
The mist around them glowed with gold while silence still enfolded them. Half a heartbeat later they shot back out into the night.
Sheesha slowed immediately and his wings flashed out to beat against the sudden blast of wind as they came to a halt. He spun in the air.
It was as if a knife had sliced through the mist and torn it apart along its length. The top and side of the tekrak had been exposed. Yenteel should have stopped the pattern but it would take a while for the mist to dissipate, if it did at all.
With the magic gone, she could hear uproar in the camp but could see very little. Until a raider came running from the mist, screaming in terror. He shouted something about demons and magic. Then he looked up to see Sheesha. And he saw his death.
Kantees jumped from his back. It was a longer drop than she expected, and she fell heavily on her ankle and collapsed to the floor. Sheesha dropped like a stone onto the raider and cut his scream short.
She got to her feet. Her ankle was not broken but perhaps a little sprained, so she hobbled forwards. Two men came from the mist just in time to see their compatriot ripped in half.
Their shock at the sight was short-lived as Sheesha pounced. His long neck snaked out and snapped at the head of one while he brought his tail round and knocked the second off his feet and then stomped him with hind leg and crushed him with the talon.
The mist was clearing faster than Kantees expected. Perhaps the magic was the only thing holding it in place. She desperately wanted to know if Ulina had managed to get the children free but she dared not call out.
The noise in the place was increasing. Lostimal, as Yenteel had said it would, was lifting behind the mountains and light was growing.
She wanted to kill all the raiders but right now she would be glad to be gone from there. She could not fight.
“Who are you?”
The speaker was a man in need of a shave and missing half his clothes but he seemed comfortable with the sword in his hand and the knife in the other.
Strands of mist wove in and out of the bushes and trees as if they did not want to leave. They took turns hiding and revealing the man as he walked towards her.
He took in her simple clothes and grinned. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter who you are, your pattern ends here.”
Kantees heard a movement behind her. The man stopped and his eyes went up.
“You need to know my name, so you can tell whatever demon claims your pattern what it was that killed you,” she said. “I am Kantees of the Ziri, and I will have revenge on you in the name of those you have hurt.”
Sheesha roared. It was less thunderous than it had been in the underground, but frightening nonetheless.
“So, raider, murderer, ravisher of children, who are you?”
“I am Ofindah, captain of armsmen, and slayer of Kantees.”
He moved in a relaxed motion, bringing his arm up swiftly and releasing the dagger from his hand. She blinked. Everything happened in slow motion. She wanted to get out of the way, but Sheesha was behind her and she dared not move in case he was hurt.
The blade struck her in the shoulder, and for a moment she thought he must have thrown badly. Then the pain flashed through her and she went down on one knee with the shock of it.
“So much for your revenge, Kantees of the Ziri.”
A child screamed but it was not a scream of pain. Ulina materialised from the curling mists and climbed the man like a tree. Her tiny patterned knife sliced across the side of his neck. He shrugged her off as if he had not felt the injury—just as Kantees had not felt hers—and Ulina landed hard with a cry that was of pain.
Kantees leaned against Sheesha’s wing and forced herself back onto her feet.
In his eyes she saw the realisation that something was not right. He raised his hand to his neck and touched it. The shadows meant Kantees could not see clearly, but he brought his hand back and stared at the fingers.
She could feel the dagger grating against her bones as she staggered forwards. The pain kept her focused.
The raider swayed but still clung to his sword and raised it as she approached. She ignored it.
“Do you feel it, Ofindah?” she said. “Your pattern being rubbed out?”
He opened his mouth as if to speak but only blood spilled from it. His eyes glazed over.
Kantees did not feel at all well. Her legs went weak and she fell to her hands and knees.
I cannot stop now, she thought. That’s only one.
Someone small got under her arm and helped her stay on her feet. Ulina.
The bulk of the tekrak loomed to Kantees’ left. In the light of Lostimal she could make out its great curved roots digging into the soil. It did not have the basket under it; they must remove it at night.
She staggered forwards again with Ulina at her side and Sheesha at her back. A man came running from the mist, saw her, and then looked up at the ziri. He fled the way he had come. Another ziri roar came from in front of them.
Looesa and Shingul had not stayed put. Gally would be upset.
The mist ahead glowed red with a fire’s embers.
“The carriage, Ulina?” Her words did not seem very clear.
“I got the others out,” said the child. “Like you told me.”
“Jelamie?”
“Only peasant children, Kantees of the Ziri.”
“Don’t,” she said, but could not get the rest of the words out. Ulina would not understand what she was talking about. She desperately wanted to pull the dagger from her shoulder but she knew that could make the wound worse. She could bleed like Ofindah until she had lost so much blood she would die of it. Jelamie?
She had made a promise to herself. She had told her promise to Daybian. She would find his brother.
If he still lived.
The sounds of men screaming and dying had stopped now. And as they made their way through the mists, they saw nothing to tell them many men had died. She hoped they were all dead. She hoped they had all suffered and had been terrified in their last moments. She wanted them to have understood what their victims had suffered.
She heard a sob. At first it sounded like one of the dying men, but when it came again she knew it was someone young. Ulina had said the villagers’ children had been freed, hadn’t she? Kantees was having trouble concentrating. The pain distracted her.
The sound seemed to come from the tekrak, now behind her.
She tried to say the boy’s name but her voice did not seem to want to work anymore. It was almost as if she was too tired to speak. So instead she forced herself to go back, which confused both her companions. Then Ulina must have heard it too, because she almost dragged Kantees towards the sound.
The fire tube of the huge flying plant was as broad as Ulina was high. The silver light of Lostimal gleamed off its curved surface. The ridges of the leaves from which it was composed were shadowy lines.
She could smell the noxious gas the tekrak’s body contained as it leaked between the leaves.
A small foot hung from the tube.
When Kantees reached out to touch it, it was pulled in immediately.
Kantees concentrated on her throat. “Jelamie,” she croaked. “It’s Kantees, from Jakalain.”
The boy wailed.
Thirty-Three
The patterner had been found hiding behind a chest in the carriage. He had been as mistreated as the rest but perhaps, as an adult, he could make more sense of it.
Yenteel had come down when the fighting had stopped and he was sure the ziri had won. He made no pretence of bravery but put his limited healing skills to work on Kantees’ injury. She kept Ofindah’s knife on her belt, in the sheath she had taken from his dead body.
They would not bury or burn the dead raiders, but rather would leave them to the elements and the animals. There were too many anyway, and they deserved no such respect.
Three of the children, Jelamie among them, did not say anything but stared with wild eyes at the ziri. The patterner would not talk about what had happened. He just shook his head when Kantees asked. But he did explain the boy had not been the target of the raid; that was his elder brother, and they had not even known Jelamie was aboard until late the following day. After they had killed Lorima Hamalain. The patterner either did as he was told or he would suffer. He chose to obey.
The raiders had decided to keep Jelamie as a pet—though they mistreated him and forced him to sleep in the tekrak’s fire tube. It amused them, seeing him trying to rest with the fear that if he overslept he might be incinerated.
As dawn approached, the patterner spoke to Kantees. She was very tired but had found it impossible to sleep.
“I will lose the tekrak,” he said. “Unless we can move it over to the carriage.”
“I don’t understand.”
“When the sun shines on its leaves, it will ignite its fire tube and take off. We have to move it to the carriage where I can make it wrap its roots around the structure. Then it will obey.”
“Why not let it go?” Then she stopped and with her good hand grabbed him by the collar. “Where did you get this monster and how did you learn to control it?”
He shut his mouth and looked at her in fear, as if she were one of the raiders. Her shoulder ached and she knew she was just tired. She released him.
The glow of dawn was lighting the sky behind the mountains. She could simply release the tekrak but then they would be many people and just three ziri. Or she could let this man control it and they could all ride. He knew things she needed to know—perhaps where they had taken Daybian, or at least a clue she could follow.
“Very well. What must we do?”
She put Ulina in charge of the girls and Jelamie with instructions to clear out the carriage of anything they did not need. She had taken a look inside and concluded it was a disgusting mess. The patterner explained how the glyphs for control were etched into the roof of the carriage itself, but that meant the tekrak must be manhandled into position. Once in place, it would not let go until the magic was released.
It took many of the raiders to hold the monster down each morning while they moved it. Now they had three humans and three ziri. Kantees was not sure how Sheesha and the others would feel about holding ropes.
She set Gally to making loops in the cords that hung from the net thrown across the tekrak’s body. The net itself was not tied to the creature but she needed no explanation for that. Leaving aside the risk of puncturing its body, the net stretched as it strained. There was no way of holding it in place.
She went to the elongated front of the monster. It was hard to understand how it could navigate without eyes or ears, or even a sense of smell. But it did: probably another manifestation of its magic.
Sheesha came willingly when she called to him, and at her word Looesa and Shingul came too. She had noticed how they followed Sheesha’s lead and copied what he did, so she wanted them to watch—hoping only that Sheesha did not protest.
The ziri wore their tack easily enough but that was what they were trained for. This would be different. There had not been time to be clever. She had Sheesha duck his head and she slipped the loop over it, then brought it down his neck to his body. His wings were partly spread because he had used them to walk over.
Kantees pushed him down so he was lying prone. He turned his long neck to watch what she was doing. He was biddable and trusting, but curious. She hoped she was not about to betray that trust.
Now that he was prone, he automatically brought his wings in next to his body. Kantees only wanted the loop to go over one of them, but she made it as big as she could. She glanced again at the sky. The sun would be here soon. She pushed the loop back along his body on one side and, pulling hard, managed to get it over the hooks and claws of the wing’s leading edge, just as Sheesha thought she was trying to get him to stand again.
His wings stretched and the loop lay diagonally across his body. He pulled at it experimentally.
“Just wait, Sheesha,” she said with an outward calm she was not feeling inside. “Wait. Let’s get the others into theirs, shall we?”
When she was done, Kantees ran to where Gally was working, only to find that he had already succeeded. Both he and Looesa had smug looks. She laughed, then jumped as the tekrak creaked. She spun around. The roots were coming out of the ground. They had been barely in time with the ropes.
But now was the real test.
She hurried back to Sheesha in case he needed calming, but he was merely watching the movement of the plant with half an eye. Quite disinterested. She supposed this might be because it wasn’t edible.
But, as the roots came up, the great green ball of leaves creaked again and lifted. Gally and Yenteel had been assigned ropes at the far end, near the fire tube but not in line with it. Kantees did not have a rope but she thought she might be able to push from this side if needed. She wanted to be able to see everything and guide them. Or calm the ziri if that was needed.
She worried about what might happen if one of them panicked and decided the rope was a trap. This was a tremendously dangerous thing they were doing. The ziri could hurt themselves, or hurt someone else. Men could understand—the zirichasa simply trusted. And it was her they put their faith in.
She saw light under the tekrak. The biggest roots had drawn up, with soil and plants dripping from them like water. The ropes and net stretched. Soon there was enough space for the children to go under it, though they were standing off to the side and watching with no excitement. They had seen this before.
“Gally! Yenteel! Start to walk towards the carriage!” They obeyed easily enough but the ziri were not looking happy. The ropes pulling across their bellies was not something they were used to.
“Sheesha,” she said in a sharp tone. “Come on.” And she started to walk towards the body of the tekrak in slow, small steps—it wasn’t a great distance but she wanted Sheesha to get the idea they were going somewhere. The big ziri grunted and she saw the rope over her head slacken as he moved after her.