Ammonite Stars (Omnibus): Ammonite Galaxy #4-5

by Gillian Andrews

  He suddenly realized that he might well die out here on this black hole planet, and more importantly, that Diva might. The euphoria he had been enjoying subsided with a bump, and he began to worry about keeping her safe. That, he knew, would go very much against the grain with her. He contemplated the problem as they struggled up the deep ravines of the mountainside, and it finally became clear to him that Diva was not a person who could be protected. She would hate him for it if he even tried. After all she had been through, she was not going to react particularly well if he told her what she had to do. She never had in the past, either.

  Which meant ... that he had to let her launch herself into trouble. Because otherwise he would be trying to change her – and that was something which he definitely didn’t want to do. Although he wasn’t so sure that she wouldn’t want to change him. Having finally got the whole thing clear in his own mind, he gave a sigh of relief.

  “What, Kwaidian? Been thinking, have you? Brain got a bit overheated?”

  He gave her a sideways push, but gently, so that she wouldn’t fall over. “As a matter of fact, I was thinking.”

  “Thought I could see steam coming from the top of your skull,” she teased. “Do you think you should risk any strenuous exercise for that mind of yours? It’s not as if you use it very much.”

  And with that they slid neatly back into their time-honoured tradition of badinage between each other. Six felt pleased. It was like coming home again. He had missed this repartee during the long period when Diva had held out against him. It had been hard sometimes to hold the insults back. And now their sting had disappeared, he could almost feel the light-hearted teasing pulling the two of them together. It seemed to him that at last the old relationship and the new one were beginning to mesh together.

  “At least mine hasn’t been marinated in Mesteta wine,” he taunted. “Unlike yours.”

  “It’s not my brain I soak in Mesteta wine, no-name!”

  “No. If you did it would probably be a bit more supple.”

  She gasped. “I like that!”

  “I’m glad. You know I always try to tell things like they are.”

  Diva eyed him with disfavour. “I do. Not exactly the courtier, are you, Kwaidian?”

  Six laughed so loud that he had to clutch at himself. “You expect to be courted? You must be joking.”

  “Why?”

  “Because ... if I remember rightly, you said that Divina Senate Magmus of Coriolis could never be associated with the likes of a no-name.”

  “I did not!”

  “Your memory has suddenly turned selective again, I see. I remember you saying it quite clearly.”

  “WHEN?”

  “During the battle for Kwaide. You know, when that knife-slinger tried to kill you.”

  “Oh.” She thought about it. “But things that people say in the heat of battle don’t count.”

  “Since when?”

  Diva examined her surroundings. “Oh, look, there is some vegetation here! Something has managed to survive, then.”

  “Pity it wasn’t your memory.”

  “Oh, don’t be so literal, Six. You know I didn’t mean it.”

  “You certainly did mean it.” Then he relented. “As long as you don’t expect me to court you, is all.” He appeared to feel that there could hardly be a worse fate.

  Diva rolled her eyes, and ploughed on up the hill with difficulty, hiding a smile.

  THEY HAD TO rest twice more in the next twenty hours. Both times the canths gratefully drank water and ate a few of the pressed cubes provided, before sinking to the ground to dream fitfully for a few hours.

  Six was worried about the animals. They were looking slightly dehydrated already, and, what was worse, the quantity of water they had been able to bring along with them was very limited. Unless they discovered a plentiful supply soon, the canths would find themselves in grave danger.

  He began to look around the craggy hills, but there was no sign anywhere of any water. He rather thought that all of the volcanic vents which had appeared on the planet would have led to the evaporation of any water centuries ago. He looked surreptitiously at what supplies were left. There was not even enough water for the canths to get back to the shuttles.

  Six caught Bennel examining him.

  “What?” he asked.

  Bennel raised one eyebrow, shook his head slightly, and turned aside. If the Valhai didn’t want to put his thoughts into words, that was his own business, but it didn’t take a Venerable to see that this mission was one of no return. He noticed that Tallen had been listening, and their eyes met. They both knew what was coming. And they were both secretly determined to do their duty until the very end. Bennel thought privately that the Namuri boy would not be able to maintain his façade of valour, but knew that he himself would. He had been trained for many years to ignore his own fight or flight adrenalin urges, and to focus only on protecting his assigned meritocrat. But now, now that the Valhais had brought him on such incredible journeys, journeys that had converted him into one of the privileged few, he was doubly or triply motivated. Just as Six and the others were prepared to lay down their lives to save Arcan, Bennel knew that if he were permitted to sacrifice himself to save either Six or Diva, he would die a happy man who had fulfilled his destiny, one who would leave behind him great karma for his wife and family to enjoy.

  Bennel sharpened his sword with the blue namura stone he always carried around with him, twisting away from Tallen, whose eyes sparked fiercely when he saw the stone. His clan revered them, and Bennel guarded it carefully deep in his garments, wary lest Tallen’s admiration should prove too much for the boy.

  Tallen saw the movement, and curled one lip. Let the Coriolan sycophant protect his precious stone! The man understood nothing about the Namuri clan. If he did, he would know better than to desecrate the symbol of unity by using it to sharpen his weapons without the necessary incantations and rituals. It was sacrilege! But what could you expect from someone who had dedicated their whole life to the perpetuation of the meritocracy? Tallen smothered the rage which welled up inside him every time he saw Bennel pull out the sacred stone, and grimly continued on the upwards struggle, his heart pumping indignantly at the effort. Tallen secretly thought that Bennel would fail in the coming crisis, would be unable to control his own impulses, would be unable to complete his task. Which is when he, Tallen, would be waiting. For a Namuri would never be found lacking when the moment for action came. The blood oath and the blue stone could never be dishonoured like that. Tallen’s chin came up just a little more, and he contemplated the pride his sister would feel at his great sacrifice. By giving his life to protect his oath bearer he would liberate Petra from her own blood oath, freeing her to become whoever she wanted. Then, thought the Namuri with huge satisfaction, then she would have to take back those bitter words when she had blamed him for the fiasco in the Widowmaker, after they had both been caught.

  His face shining with pleasure at the thought of such honour and the expression of chagrin she would have when she heard of his noble sacrifice, Tallen continued forcing his feet along the rocky path, higher and higher.

  Diva, who was just in front of the Namuri, heard his footsteps crunching over the rocks. She could feel the boy’s dislike of her, which was making the hairs at the back of her neck stand up. She sighed. Sometimes she wondered why she and Six were fighting so hard to make Coriolis a more democratic place. Why bother, if the people who benefited would hate her still, as this boy did? It seemed a particularly pointless waste of their time and energy.

  “Can’t you go any faster, Meritocrat?” came Tallen’s scornful voice from behind. “We’ll be going backwards if you go any slower.”

  Diva swivelled around to face her accuser, unable to keep her mouth shut any longer. “Why don’t you keep your thoughts to yourself, Namuri?” she snapped. “It’s not as if anybody is interested in what you have to say.”

  Tallen thrust his hand forwards on his scab
bard. “Maybe they would be a whole lot more interested if I had been born to a rich and notoriously cruel family like you were?” he jeered.

  “Take that back!” Diva pulled out her own dagger and narrowed her eyes as she pointed it straight at his heart.

  “Spoken like a true meritocrat!” he spat, drawing his own sword, and moving from side to side on the balls of his feet. “And you are not my emptor, lady, so you had better be more careful who you insult.”

  Diva gave a nasty grin. “Oh, that wasn’t an insult, thief! You would know if I had insulted you.”

  His face turned white. “How dare you, of all people, call me a thief?”

  Diva gave a superior smile. “Quite easily, as it turns out.” She allowed herself a small laugh, showing her immaculate white teeth.

  Tallen was already almost beside himself. His arm came up and he began to circle her slowly, his attention fixed on her dagger hand. There was a moment’s pause, and then a steely grasp pushed his arm back down to his side.

  “I don’t know what you think you are doing, Tallen,” said a voice which was burning almost as much as the rocks thrown out of the volcanic vents, “but if you ever, EVER, so much as look at Valhai Diva again with a weapon in your hand, I will attempt to make sure that you suffer a long and very ignoble death.”

  The black cloud of rage which had been dimming Tallen’s self-control evaporated with such alacrity that it left him cold. This was not the behaviour of a Namuri bodyguard, he realized. He shivered. “I ... err ... it was her fault. She started it!”

  “She is my wife,” the voice whispered, in what Tallen felt was a particularly menacing tone, “and I will not permit you – or anybody else, if it comes to that – to threaten her. Is that clear?”

  Tallen gave a choke of anger, and then a reluctant nod of his head. His eyes glittered over to Diva, who was regarding him as if he were a specimen in a jam jar. Then, to his great surprise, she lowered her eyes.

  “It was partly my fault, Six,” she said.

  “I didn’t doubt that for a moment,” he told her, “but Tallen should not have reacted as he did.”

  Bennel, who had moved between the two parties some time before, stepped back again, but nodded his agreement.

  “Perhaps I should send you back to the shuttles?” suggested Six.

  Tallen looked horrified. “You couldn’t! You wouldn’t!” It didn’t occur to him that it was, in fact, practically impossible.

  Six lifted his eyebrows. “That is really up to you.”

  Tallen’s shoulders dropped. “I am sorry.”

  Six continued to stare at him.

  Tallen’s shoulders dropped even further. “I am sorry, Valhai Diva. It ... it will not happen again.”

  Six looked at the heaving sides of the canths, who were finding this entire journey exhausting. “Let’s stop for a brief rest, and perhaps some of us can calm down and relax a bit.”

  Diva’s eyes flashed, and she was about to retaliate, when she caught Six’s expression. He was regarding her with understanding, and some laughter in his face. She flushed, and subsided onto the ground, where she began to examine her own nails.

  Six looked over at an obstinate Tallen, who was still standing pugnaciously with both hands clenched into fists. There was a short battle to see who would drop their eyes first, and then Tallen relented. The imposing sight of the enormous black hole yawing in the sky above them made them all fall silent.

  Chapter 8

  WHEN THEY CONTINUED, the going got even more impossible. The mountain was ever steeper, and the rocks loose on the path made the way more and more difficult. And the geysers were reappearing now, some quite close to them. But this time it was almost impossible to avoid passing within their radius of action; there was simply no other way along the passes.

  Diva’s eyes shone as a piece of rock as large as her head hit the path just in front of her feet and rolled off down the slope of the ridge, leaving a crater where it had first hit, and a few remaining threads of fire from the lava. She tossed her head back with glee. “That was nearly the end of me!”

  Six found he was not quite as amused. “Watch where you’re going, will you Diva?” he grumbled. Then he was forced to duck down as a barrage of smaller pebbles, all white hot and glistening, showered over him.

  “Pot and kettle, no-name!” she said, looking visibly shaken. “Mind your own step first.”

  Bennel was staring around him in some dismay. He could, he felt, protect Diva from attack by whatever alien happened to live on this planet, but it was going to be far harder to stop annihilation by lava flow.

  Tallen was chivvying the canths. “Come ON, you stupid animals, you are going to get us all fried if we stay here!”

  Diva bristled. “Do you mind not calling them stupid animals? They can talk across an entire universe, you know!”

  “Not if they have been burnt to a crisp out here, they can’t! They need to get a move on, or we will all end up being vapourized.”

  Diva muttered something to herself, which made Tallen look at her sharply, but she didn’t elaborate.

  Bennel couldn’t help but agree with the Namuri. He hurried to the head of the lead canth, Six’s dapple grey, and began to pull at its headcollar, trying to urge it into a trot. To his surprise, the animal bent down on one knee.

  “They want us to mount them again,” he shouted. “Quickly!”

  As fast as they could, they all scrambled onto the canths’ backs, and clutched hold of whatever they could to stay on, as both canths immediately broke into a lethal gallop that propelled them towards a distant overhang at a pace which invited a broken leg. The rocks along the path threw up sparks as the canths thundered past, and Six felt that their legs must be undergoing far too much stress on the hard ground. He tried to rein his canth back, but the animal was determined. In the end he had to sit back, and simply try to hold on.

  The mad dash through the field of lava vents lasted for nearly an hour, and there were moments when they almost didn’t make it. Six was hit by one tiny piece of flying lava, and as it passed by, it seared a path through his hair, right down to the skin. He was left with the unmistakable smell of burnt hair, and a track along his scalp where it had all been burnt away.

  “Next time, duck faster!” shouted Diva, who was directly behind him, and therefore easily able to see the result.

  Then she lunged out of the way of a boulder that nearly sliced her own canth in two, and shouted a warning to him as another tongue of lava seemed to launch itself directly at him. He threw himself to one side, and the canth luckily followed his lead, for the lava burnt down onto the path just where they had been standing moments before.

  “Maybe we should stop chatting and concentrate on getting out of here?” Bennel, who was clinging on to Diva’s back, ventured. “—If you don’t mind my suggesting?”

  Diva laughed again, and gave the seal brown canth its head. “Hold on, then, Bennel. I think things might get a bit rough from now on!”

  Bennel found she was right. He had to concentrate so hard on staying on the canth that he was unable to think of anything at all for the next few minutes. The motion of the equine jolted him so much that every part of his body ached, simply from the effort of staying on.

  At last they made it to the rocky overhang, and they slid down from their mounts with relief.

  Apart from the bald track along Six’s scalp, with singed skin, there were more signs of their dive for safety. Diva’s canth had lost the greater part of its tail, and Tallen was sporting a new scar right down one thigh, where another flame of lava had narrowly missed severing the whole leg.

  Diva stared at the damage. “Are you all right?”

  Tallen tried to move the leg, with success. “I am all right,” he informed her. “No thanks to you!”

  “Oh, so now the lava jets are my fault, are they?” She put her hands on her hips.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “No. You just implied I could have don
e more!”

  Tallen shrugged. “If the cap fits ...”

  “That is enough. Behave yourselves, both of you.” Six had walked up to them.

  Diva turned her impressive eyebrows onto Six, raising one of them expressively, though he appeared not to notice. The Namuri, also caught in her fulminating gaze, shifted from foot to foot, finally spluttered something about feeding the canths, and walked away.

  Six put an expansive arm around his wife’s shoulders, although she was still glaring at him. They looked around them at the overhang. It was dark under the shelf of rock which jutted out into the sky. Below the overhang the ground felt damp. They wandered further into the crevice in the mountain. It wasn’t long before they both gave a sharp cry.

  “Water!”

  Bennel ran up immediately. Sure enough, the surface of the sand right under the rock face glistened damply. The Coriolan ran back to the canths, and slipped a shovel from behind one of the saddles. Then he began to dig frantically around the area marked by the sheen of water.

  As soon as they became aware of this, both canths came over. Although they couldn’t fit their whole bodies this far into the crevice, their heads could reach, and they were soon drinking plentifully from the small source Bennel had uncovered.

  Six realized that he was feeling hugely relieved. That gave them a hope of survival! It was only a slender thread, but at least it existed. That was good news.

  He watched as both canths drank their fill, and then leant down himself to refill the containers they had brought for the equines. If the worst came to the worst, they could drink this themselves, although there was still quite an abundant supply of waterpacks, which were lighter, and had been easier to bring.