Out of the Waters-ARC

by David Drake

  She toed the corpse again. Her sense of humor was a lot like that of a veteran soldier, a fact that Corylus found oddly comforting in this place.

  A single catch released the faceplate. Corylus lifted it up on the hinge to remove the helmet. He stopped and looked over his shoulder at the sprite.

  "Mistress," he said. "This was a woman."

  "The armor adjusts," she said. "It will fit you, even if you're not a magician yourself."

  I suppose that's all that really matters, Corylus thought. He lifted the helmet off, supporting the dead woman's shoulders with his free hand; then he lowered her with as much care as he could. He wondered about burying her, but there were at least twenty bodies, some of them mangled beyond certainty that they were human.

  Treat them like the German dead after a battle, he decided. Unless you're going to camp on the field, let the wolves and crows take care of the job.

  The creature leaped thirty feet from the deck of the second ship back to the upper railing of vessel near to Corylus and the sprite. It squatted there, watching them. The shape of its face gave it a look of bright interest, but there was no real way a human could read the expressions of something so utterly inhuman.

  "We can go, I suppose," Corylus said as he straightened. "That is, if you're ready."

  He held helmet and corselet in his left hand. They weren't unmanageably heavy, and he preferred to keep one hand free.

  Instead of answering, the sprite walked past him toward the ship. The creature watched her, moving only his head, and that just enough to follow her approach.

  "Aren't you going to put the armor on?" she said. She didn't look back toward him. "It won't protect you if you're not wearing it."

  It didn't help the Minoi who were wearing it before, Corylus thought, but of course there might be dangers besides the chance of being clubbed by a giant whose strength was all out of proportion to its considerable size.

  Aloud he said, "It looks uncomfortable, mistress, especially the helmet. Is the armor necessary now?"

  "Am I a soothsayer?" Coryla said. "If you know the future, cousin, then do as your wisdom directs."

  She caressed the polished deck planks, then stepped aboard by the low side. She stood easily, despite the slope.

  Corylus stopped, set the armor down, and took off the belt so that he could put the corselet on. When he closed and latched it, the metal seemed to flow against his ribs.

  He lengthened the belt that he'd taken up to fit his waist under only a tunic, then donned it also. Finally he set the helmet on his head. It too fit, just as the sprite had said it would.

  The orichalc equipment was less constricting than the mail and legionary helmet with which he was familiar. He didn't latch the grill. That would take only a sweep of his hand to complete, if necessary.

  He climbed aboard. The sprite watched him with a smile.

  "The flames that the projector in the bow throws...," she said, nodding toward the knotted apparatus that Corylus had taken for a stubby winch of some kind. "The armor will help you with them. And there are other things."

  "Thank you, mistress," Corylus said. He bowed toward her.

  The golden furred creature hopped to the deck and took three mincing strides to the stern. Its narrow tongue licked the air. The ship gave a shudder and rocked upright on its keel.

  ***

  The silence of the crowd as Serdain and Kalpos marched Hedia across the plaza was disquieting. Their retainers followed in line. They wore their daggers, but their nets and poles remained in the ships.

  Ropes of light rippling like molten glass bound Hedia's waist to the nearer hand of each Minos. They didn't hinder her so long as she kept in step with her captors, but when she deliberately hesitated in mid-step, the bonds jerked her forward with a jolt of pain. It felt as though she had been dropped into boiling water for an instant.

  Well, she hadn't expected to be able to break free by force. Violence wasn't a tool she had ever found congenial.

  The entrance was a slender triangle, echoing the design of the spire itself. It was twenty feet wide at the base, but it seemed narrow because its top was almost a hundred feet overhead. Hedia glanced up: the orichalc ball must be at least a thousand feet in the air.

  She almost stumbled again--in genuine shock--when she and her captors stepped inside. The spire's interior was the largest enclosed space Hedia had ever seen. Indeed, it was larger than her dreams of what was possible.

  It was all a single room, from the glassy floor to the peak so high that it made Hedia dizzy when she looked up at it. The bonds dashed pain over her again, but because that pulled her back to the present, it was an almost welcome relief.

  Almost. The shimmering fetters cut like the whips of the Furies. One more thing to pay back when opportunity presents itself....

  Ramps like those of an amphitheater slanted around the interior in narrowing helixes. People stood against their railings for as far up as Hedia could see before the light through the crystal walls blurred everything into a bright haze. There were unthinkably many people present, perhaps as many as the crowd in the Circus Maximus for a full card of races.

  They were all watching Hedia and the Minoi holding her. I'm scarcely looking my best, she thought as her captors led her to the center of the huge hall. Though since nobody else cared, she didn't suppose she ought to either.

  Cool air rushed up through narrow slots in the crystal floor. It dried the sweat on Hedia's body and made her scrapes and scratches itch less. She would still give a year of her life for a bath; though--she smiled coldly--a bath wouldn't be at the top of the list if she were being offered wishes.

  Of course, her life might not have a year remaining. Thought of the amphitheater brought to mind watching lions being loosed on prisoners who had been bound to posts and were as naked as she was now.

  "Stand here," Serdain said. Hedia stopped. She couldn't see anything different about this patch of floor. It was translucent with a vaguely blue cast.

  The Minoi each muttered something and stepped away. Hedia's waist was free, but the flowing hardness now gripped her ankles. She tried turning with care prompted by the vicious bite the bonds had given her when she fought them.

  She was able to do that so long as she remained on the same patch of crystal. A tentative step forward caused the flowing light to bind her; she didn't try pushing beyond that point. She could stand such pain as she needed to, but it wasn't an experience she cared for.

  Until she turned, Hedia hadn't realized that the crowd from the plaza had followed her into the hall. The scores of Minoi formed a circle around her. Their armor caught the light wicking through the crystal walls; the metal shone like cold fire in the cool blue ambiance.

  They had taken their helmets off. Hedia could see that at least a dozen were women, but that left her with many possible ways to improve her situation. Retainers formed blocks behind individual Minoi as they had done on the plaza earlier.

  "The Council of the Minoi is in session," said a voice. "Let all the world take notice and obey!"

  Hedia couldn't tell who was speaking or even be sure of the direction from which the voice came. It was ordinary sound, not ideas forming in her mind, and the words hadn't been shouted.

  From the way the whispers and shuffling stilled, everyone in the vast enclosure must have heard it. Perhaps it was magic, but it might have been simply an improvement on the excellent acoustics of the theaters with which Hedia was familiar.

  "Our Servitors have succeeded in capturing and bringing to us the wizard who is the key of the threat to us," the voice continued. "All that remains to ensure our safety is to bring her to the notice of Typhon, then send her to the Underworld by the path that she has already traversed. Typhon will follow and be bound inextricably."

  "The Servitors have made a mistake," said another voice, this time clearly a woman speaking. "Look at her! She's not a Minos."

  Although Hedia couldn't identify this speaker either, she noticed this time
in her survey that each Minos held an object and was gazing into it. The individual talismans differed: crystals of one sort or another were common, but some of the Minoi had what seemed to be common pebbles like the one Serdain had used to fly the ship that brought her here. Occasionally she saw a tiny orichalc machine or a sculpture.

  "She doesn't have the mark, but that means nothing," said what might have been the first voice. "Her culture has its own forms; we mustn't be parochial in our views."

  "But look at her aura!" said the female voice. "She cannot possibly be a Minos. She's as common as the serfs who spread night soil on the crops!"

  If I learn who you are, dearie..., Hedia thought as she continued to smile. I may one day serve you out in a fashion that will make you less eager to insult a lady of Carce.

  "She has visited the Underworld and returned," responded multiple voices in near unison. "No one but a great wizard could do that. None of us could do it: therefore we sent Servitors."

  What if they decide I'm not a wizard? Hedia thought. If they think they're going to put me to spreading manure on flower beds, they're going to get an unpleasant surprise.

  The alternative, being dangled before a monster like a strip of pork on a shark hook, wasn't ideal either, but Hedia had never assumed that monsters had snatched her from her bed for her own benefit. Being bait seemed to offer more possibilities.

  Thought of being snatched from bed reminded Hedia of the Servitors. The glass men with the hunting party had remained aboard the ships, and she didn't see others here in the hall. Were the creatures really alive? Were they absent now simply because there was no need of their presence, or were they barred for the same reason women were not allowed to watch the Senate in session: out of fear?

  That thought made Hedia smile wider and more harshly. Most men wouldn't have agreed with her assessment of the real reason women weren't allowed in the Senate chamber, but she had no doubt that she was correct. Men demeaned what they feared, and they were rightly afraid of women's power over them.

  "And she is linked to Typhon," said another voice, male and elderly as best Hedia could judge. "She is best suited, perhaps uniquely suited, to draw the monster away from Atlantis and to that bourn from which it cannot return."

  Why in heaven do they think I'm connected with that monster? But Hedia had to consciously smooth the frown from her forehead. Am I connected with it? There's so much I don't understand.

  I don't understand any of this!

  "We don't know that," said what was certainly the female voice which had objected to Hedia's aura--whatever an aura was. "The link is to the place but not to the person except by conjecture. I say the Servitors took the wrong person."

  "The link from Typhon to her home is clear," said what must have been a majority of the Minoi present. "It is certain that this is the one whom the Servitors tracked back from the Underworld, where only a wizard could go and return. Logic indicates that one and the same person is responsible for both. We will offer her to Typhon and lead the monster to the Underworld."

  "I am Hedia, daughter of Marcus Hedius Robustus, consul and descendent of consuls!" Hedia said. The vastness seemed to drink her voice; she didn't know if anyone, even Serdain and Kalpos a few feet away, could hear her. "I am a lady of Carce! Return me to my home or face the anger of the gods who have raised Carce to the throne of nations!"

  Instead of a response, she heard a burst of unintelligible chittering, like that of a frog pond during an evening shower. After a moment--a few heartbeats, no more--a chorus said, "The Council of the Minoi decrees that this female shall be offered to Typhon, then brought to the Underworld where she and it shall be sequestered forever. It shall be done!"

  "I am Hedia, wife of Consul Gaius Alphenus Saxa! Release me and take me home!"

  "She should be clothed," said the female voice. Hedia didn't know whether the woman was an ally in some fashion or if she simply enjoyed disagreeing with her peers. "We must provide her with a garment."

  There was a further brief interval of wordless chirping. A number of voices--many, but not the great consensus of Hedia's condemnation--said, "She shall have a garment."

  Almost immediately the Council in unison said, "Then she will be taken to the cells and held till we have made the necessary preparations. It shall be as we decree."

  A youth, a commoner in a bleached white kilt, stepped between a pair of armored Minoi and trotted toward Hedia with his head lowered. He held a bundle which he tossed at her feet, turned, and scurried back the way he had come. He never looked up.

  Hedia considered for a moment, then bent and opened the bundle. It was a shift folded from a single piece of cloth, with arm-holes in the sides and a head opening cut at the top. It was off-white with a dingy blue cast, but it seemed clean; its straight lines could be made attractive with a sash and a few judicious gatherings.

  She shrugged it over her head. Though the garment was obviously utilitarian, the fabric itself was as soft as cobweb.

  Hedia stood straighter, wondering if the female voice would demand that the prisoner be given a bath. Instead, and without warning, the floor beneath her feet began to sink. Her stomach flipped twice; for a moment she was afraid that she would disgrace herself by vomiting in public.

  She wasn't in public. The floor of the hall was high above her; she could see only a glint of brighter light when she turned her eyes upward. The shaft in which she fell was as smooth and featureless as ice.

  Hedia's descent slowed; weight threatened to buckle her knees. She stopped in a rotunda, facing two glassy Servitors.

  "Where are you taking me?" she said.

  Instead of answering--could they answer?--they bent and shifted the bonds from her ankles to her waist again. That done, they marched her down a corridor with cells to either side. Through the door gratings Hedia saw shapes moving. She didn't think they were all human, or at least fully human.

  "When will I be released?" she shouted.

  The Servitors shoved her into an empty cell. The flowing fetters vanished.

  The door of the cell clacked shut before Hedia could turn around.

  ***

  Alphena couldn't see very much from the gryphon's back. The sky was black and filled with stars, but they weren't the constellations of Carce. Indeed, they didn't seem to be grouped at all, just scattered as randomly as a field of daisies.

  Straight ahead were a pair of larger, diffuse, blobs which didn't appear to be coming closer though the gryphon's wings beat strongly. Alphena thought she saw detail in what at first had been featureless blurs, however.

  By leaning forward carefully, clamping her knees, and gripping the longer feathers above the eagle head, Alphena was able to look past the wings and see that her mount had folded its legs beneath it like a cat. Which it was, she supposed, so far as its body and hind legs went.

  The gryphon turned its head to fix her with his right eye. "If you fall," he said, "you will probably fall forever. Unless I should manage to turn and catch you in time, which has its own--"

  He stretched out his right foreleg and extended the claws. They were thicker at the base than Alphena's thumbs, and the points were vanishingly sharp.

  "--difficulties for you."

  The gryphon laughed, a croaking sound from deep in its throat. If a man had behaved the way this creature was doing, Alphena would have struck him. That wasn't a practical response here.

  She felt her expression softening into a grin. I take myself too seriously. By now I should realize how little I matter to the cosmos.

  Aloud she said, "I appreciate your concern, Master Gryphon. Do you have a name?"

  The gryphon chuckled again. "Who is there who could name me?" he said. "And I have not chosen to give a name to myself."

  The creature's wings were relatively short and broad, like those of a raven. Though they beat powerfully, Alphena didn't feel the slap of air that she would have expected if a tame pigeon had taken off from her wrist. She seemed to be breathing normally, but
she was beginning to wonder whether this was real or a dream.

  "Is the light ahead of us Atlantis, master?" Alphena said. She knew she was speaking to occupy her mind. She had decided it was better to react to her nervousness than let her thoughts about the near future spiral down into paralysis.

  "It will be Atlantis," said the gryphon, glancing back. "And Poseidonis. And then my task is completed, is it not so?"

  Alphena felt her chest constrict with terror. How will I get home?

  She let out her breath slowly. Because she hadn't immediately reacted aloud, she'd had time to realize that blurting, "You have to take me and mother back to Carce!" would be as useless--and possibly as dangerous--as a similar shrill demand directed to the Emperor.

  "I will not venture to tell you your duty, Master Gryphon," Alphena said. "You will act as your honor requires you to act."

  The great eagle head faced front again; the gryphon chuckled. "Such a clever little chick you are," he said. "Such a clever little wizard."

  Alphena swallowed. That could have gone very badly wrong if she'd reacted as she would have done a few weeks ago, before she really started observing the way Hedia moved in a world where men had all the public forms of power.

  She whispered, "Thank you, mother."

  The stars moved visibly though still without forming familiar combinations. The vague light directly ahead became a view of a glade in which women in flowing garments stood or walked, sometimes hand in hand. Alphena didn't recognize the place or the faces, though she scanned them intently, hoping to see Hedia.

  A spring-fed pool sent a trickle out into the forest. Eyes watched the women from the leaf-dappled water, but nothing moved except the ripples.

  The gryphon flew on; the scene blurred to a desert under moonlight. Trees as large as temple pillars threw shadows onto sand, rocks, and thorny brush. Their trunks and upraised limbs were covered with needles.

  A slight, stooping figure walked across the landscape. It had a fox's head and was covered with lustrous fur. It reached out a startlingly long forearm and snatched a scorpion from a rock. It snapped off the tail with delicate jaws, then swallowed the remainder of the scorpion like a moray eel taking a shrimp.