City of Death

by Laurence Yep

  “Never mind the trespassers for now. Everyone shoot at the makara!” the vizier cried.

  The guards turned their rifles on the beast and soon the machine gun was chattering away, sending a rain of bullets at the makara. Mist spurted up where they entered Nandi and then sprayed up again as the ricochets from the makara’s hide exited again through the ifrit.

  The makara shook and shuddered from the hail of bullets, but goaded by Nandi, the monster churned on. Scirye couldn’t see blood, but the bullets must have stung like insect bites because the monster was bellowing in rage.

  Just before the makara reached the bridge, the cloudy ifrit shot skyward, leaving the furious beast to crash into the center of the bridge. Mortar crumbled and heavy stones flew about like toy blocks. As the bridge fell apart beneath them, men cried out in fear as they plunged into the icy water.

  The makara towered above the lake for a moment, stunned by its sudden freedom and the silence and then lunged forward, wanting to take out its revenge on the nearest target.

  Unfortunately for the vizier, he happened to be the closest as he splashed desperately for his island.

  He had just enough time to holler, “No, go away. I’m your master.”

  But the great jaws closed around him, and his scream ended in a gurgle as the makara dove toward the depths of the lake, taking its latest victim along with it.

  44

  Scirye

  The exhausted dragon’s paws slid in the mud on the far shore, so she reared up out of the lake instead and threw herself onto the slope, crawling on her belly like a humble slug behind a clump of bushes.

  Scirye and the others slid off the dragon’s back. Though Bayang had tried to keep them dry, their legs were wet, but even though Scirye was shivering a little, she was more concerned for her friend. “You need to rest.”

  Bayang sighed as she wriggled her shoulders. “There’s an undersea volcano with these wonderful healing mud pits back at home. What I wouldn’t give to soak in the ooze.”

  Scirye felt a little twinge, remembering that poor Bayang could never go there again. In disobeying her orders to kill Leech, the dragon had become an outlaw in the eyes of her clan.

  “The main thing is that you’re alive,” Scirye said, hugging the dragon. “When this is over, we’ll find you a whole health spa with mud baths and massages—though I’m not sure how you massage a dragon through her scales.”

  “Try a sledgehammer,” Koko said. “And don’t forget your other promise when we’re finished. I finally get to eat everything I want.”

  Despite everything, they were all feeling cheerful because they were together again. “Maybe not everything,” Scirye laughed, “or you’ll burst.”

  “But what a way to go,” Koko said.

  Kles came skimming low over the bushes, fresh from his skirmish. Scirye held up her arm. “Welcome home.”

  He brushed his head against her sleeve in answer as a silvery cloud descended next to them.

  The dragon raised her head wearily. “How do you do? You must be Nandi.”

  “And you must be Bayang.” The cloud rippled with amusement. “Do the children always get you into so much mischief?”

  “They’ve gotten me into a lot worse than this,” Bayang chuckled.

  “Yes, I heard about the volcano,” Nandi said and suddenly began to rise. “Can you fight, dragon? It looks like the vizier has reinforcements coming.”

  Tilting back her head, Scirye saw five griffin riders dropping in a vee formation out of the sky. At the apex was a great white griffin that could only be Árkwi. And that meant the rider could only be her father, and mounted on the black griffin to his right would be her mother. Oko flew to her right while Wali and Kat formed the left side of the vee.

  “Wait, Nandi,” Scirye said. “They’re friends.”

  Snow billowed upward from the griffins’ great wings as they landed gracefully, but Scirye was already running through the spray of snowflakes.

  Lord Tsirauñe kicked his feet free from the stirrups and jumped down beside her. “You certainly make life interesting, girl. Oof!” he said as Scirye wrapped her arms around him.

  Scirye pressed her face into her father’s leather riding coat. For the first time in many hours, she felt safe.

  After a minute or so, she felt the rumble of her father’s voice. “And who is this?” he asked.

  Scirye turned to see Nandi floating politely behind her. He’d taken the form of a sphere. “Father, this is Nandi the ifrit who’s been a big help to us. Princess Catisa sent him.”

  “I thank you and your mistress then,” her father said with a bow.

  With the same grace that she brought to everything, Lady Sudarshane swung her leg over her saddle and slid off Kwele to the ground. Her flying suit made her look more like a rough-and-tumble pirate than a diplomat. “I hope our daughter hasn’t been making too much trouble for you?”

  The globe of mist bent over almost double in Nandi’s own version of a bow. “Judging from her character, it was probably no more than usual.”

  Lord Tsirauñe folded his arms as he regarded Scirye. “You’ve scared us half to death, young lady.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” Scirye said in a small voice.

  Her mother tapped Scirye on her nose. “Innocent intentions are no excuse. Most of the guard and the garrison have been turned out to hunt for you.”

  Bayang gave a polite cough. “With all due respect, the accusations against me were false.”

  Scirye shifted her feet uncomfortably. “And anyway, we really shouldn’t have been taken to the Chamber of Truth since it was illegal.”

  Lord Tsirauñe exchanged guilty glances with his wife before Lady Sudarshane said, “It’s our fault. We should never have let the vizier’s guards take you.”

  “Thank Nanaia you escaped,” her father said and then scratched the tip of his nose. “You know, when the Chamber was operating legally, no one ever broke free from there? How many parents can brag that their daughter not only escaped but was the number one criminal in the empire?”

  Lady Sudarshane wrapped her arms around her husband and daughter. “We’re not supposed to be proud of that, dear.”

  Lord Tsirauñe laughed. “Well, we always hoped Scirye would leave her mark on the world, but I wish she would’ve done something safer—like knitting the longest scarf in the world.”

  Scirye returned their embrace just as fiercely, but she couldn’t help wondering if she would ever get to do this again. Only the goddess knew.

  Finally, her mother said, “When Kat informed us of the vizier’s treachery, the princess thought it would be better if we got you first. Once you were safe back at the citadel, she could tell His Highness what the vizier had done. She was afraid that if she told His Highness right away, he would send an expedition, which would be bound to have some of the vizier’s assassins.”

  Kles understood court intrigues. “Who might arrange an unfortunate accident that would remove inconvenient witnesses like us.”

  Bayang looked at the rescue party. “But she sent only five of you?”

  “Five are more than enough,” Kat replied, “if it’s the griffin master and three Pippalanta and one former member.”

  “True enough,” the dragon gladly conceded.

  After Scirye had introduced Bayang to the Pippalanta, Lady Sudarshane glanced around. “Now where is that weasel of a vizier? I want to wring his neck.” Her mother made a choking motion with both hands.

  “The vizier is dead,” Scirye said. “He was killed by a makara in the lake.”

  “I suppose it’s only fitting that his pet should take care of him.” Her father clapped his hands together. “So now we can take you home.”

  Scirye tensed, suddenly dreading the next moment. “I need to go on to the City of Death with my friends. Roland bought the loyalty of the vizier’s guards here, and I bet he’s done the same with the ones sent to protect the city.”

  Remembering their argument in the
stables, Scirye cringed and waited for an angry confrontation—or worse, some condescending remark—but her father simply frowned thoughtfully.

  Bayang added, “And Roland will have his hired thugee too.”

  “Thugee?” Lady Sudarshane looked as if the very word were disgusting. “The man’s shameless.”

  “The news gets worse and yet,” Lord Tsirauñe regarded his daughter, “you mean to go on?”

  Scirye tried to look him in the eye to show her determination. “Yes.”

  Her mother studied her as if she no longer recognized her daughter. “I didn’t want to believe the tales about you, but you’ve changed. Perhaps this is the goddess’s doing.”

  “Excuse me, my lady,” Bayang said, “but I think Scirye’s heart was always this strong. It was just hidden until the attack at the museum cracked the shell.”

  “She’s grown up,” Lord Tsirauñe admitted and smiled sadly. “Even if it’s better for the world, I still wish it could have taken longer.”

  Her mother gazed at her with fierce pride. “Scirye, whether it’s your choice or the goddess’s, we’ll help you.”

  Scirye stared at them in surprise.

  Lady Sudarshane put a finger to Scirye’s chin and gently shut her open mouth. “Back at the citadel, your father and I were trying so hard to avoid the truth. Going to the city is Tumarg.”

  There was no need to explain further. Her parents had taught her, just as they had taught Nishke, that honor came before even personal safety.

  Her father nodded. “Many talk about Tumarg, but few follow it. We’re very proud of you.”

  Scirye felt a warm glow as her mother added with a shrug. “Anyway, your father and I were talking about doing more together as a family—though I had hoped it would be a picnic.”

  When her mother glanced over at the Pippalanta, Kat spoke for them. “Count us in too. We have a score to settle with this Badik and Roland.” Oko and Wali grinned as they nodded.

  As Kles hastily adjusted her clothes and hair, Scirye turned to the golden cloud that had been hovering nearby. “Nandi, can you take a message back to Princess Maimantstse at the citadel?”

  A hole appeared in the mist that curved upward at the ends like a smile. “I think that would come under my mistress’s instructions to help you.”

  Her parents gave a description of Princess Maimantstse’s palace and then said, “Please tell her that we will not be coming back with Scirye because Roland will be at the city soon and the vizier’s guards will probably help him, not stop him. Ask her to bring every warrior she can muster and join us there.” Her father finished with a bow. “If you tell her that, the House of Rapaññe will be in your debt.”

  Nandi’s misty tendril waggled back and forth. “Consider it partial payment from the House of Urak and from myself.”

  Then he began to glide upward until he was ten yards above their heads. Extending a dozen tendrils, he waved toward the paradise. A moment later, a shimmering cloud rose above the roofs of the island and sped toward him. As it neared, Scirye saw the butterflies flittering through the air in a horde.

  She watched them and Nandi speed toward Bactra. “Good-bye and thank you.” She kept waving until they were out of sight.

  As her mother watched the ifrit with the long train of glistening butterflies behind him, she murmured, “Your father and I can’t wait to hear the rest of your tale.”

  Koko began to brush some of the dirt from his fur. “Just think of it as a picnic with guns and monsters instead of mosquitoes and ants. Do we have fun or what?”

  45

  Leech

  Her parents came for her. The Voice sounded amazed and sad.

  “They must love her a lot,” Leech agreed.

  He hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud until Koko punched him lightly in the arm. “What do you expect? She’s got a pedigree. She’s not a mutt like you and me.”

  Leech hadn’t been able to take his eyes away from Scirye and her family. “That’s the way parents are supposed to be, isn’t it? I mean, not abandon them or kill them, actually protect their children,” he said wistfully.

  “Are you thinking about your own parents or Lee No Cha’s?” Bayang asked thoughtfully.

  Careful. If she thinks I’m here, the Voice sounded frightened but defiant, it won’t matter that you’re different from me. As long as I’m inside you, she’ll have to kill you too.

  Leech felt his stomach flip-flop, but he forced himself to look right back at the dragon. “I don’t know anything about my own folks so I’ve been wondering about Lee No Cha’s. They were so cruel.”

  “I was curious too so I read our records as part of my briefing for my mission,” Bayang said. “The dragon elders gave Lee’s family a choice: kill Lee or we would exterminate the entire clan. It was a choice no parents would want to make.”

  Leech cringed inside. No wonder you don’t trust anyone, he said to the Voice.

  I dare you to ask your “friend” about the other killings, the Voice taunted.

  Even though Leech did not want to, he had to know. “But with the later reincarnations, you dragons took over the executions. Wasn’t his first death enough?”

  Bayang looked away in embarrassment. “The elders didn’t want to take the risk.”

  And so Bayang had become the Hunter and Lee No Cha the Hunted.

  But again Leech sensed there was something beyond that bond between Bayang and the Voice. And then the boy remembered what Bayang had said about her own youth and her reasons for becoming a warrior. “How old were you when Badik started his war?” the boy asked.

  “About the equivalent of a six-year-old human,” Bayang said.

  “I bet you were too small and weak to fight against grown dragons,” Leech said.

  “Unfortunately, that was all too true,” Bayang admitted.

  Leech touched his arm, feeling for his missing armband. “But what if you’d had a powerful device back then and you had met Badik?”

  “I’d have broken every bone in his body,” Bayang replied without hesitation.

  Leech felt as if he were acting as an interpreter for both Bayang and the Voice. “So maybe Lee was just as scared and just as angry when he killed the dragon prince.”

  “I would never have made a belt out of Badik’s hide like Lee No Cha did with his victim,” Bayang snapped.

  I thought if I gave it to father, he wouldn’t get mad, the Voice insisted.

  Leech tried to convey the Voice’s thoughts to the dragon. “Maybe he panicked. He was only a kid after all. Maybe he was more afraid of what his parents would say than of the dragons. So he thought if he gave his father a gift, he wouldn’t be so angry.”

  Bayang arched her neck so her face was in front of Leech’s. Her eyes bored into his as if she were hunting for Lee hiding inside him. “Do you think he eventually realized it was wrong?”

  Leech took a step back before that penetrating gaze, and he heard the Voice give an involuntary whimper. It was a bad thing to do, the Voice confessed. The shame was plain in his tone.

  “Yes, I think he … did,” Leech said to the dragon and added for the benefit of both the Voice and the dragon. “We can’t undo the bad things we did, but we can try to do good things to try to balance things out. I mean, you were an assassin but then you became my bodyguard.”

  Bayang folded her forelegs, tapping a claw against her scales as she thought a moment. “And I hope I’m your friend too.”

  “And what about Lee if he was alive?” Leech asked. “You’re like each other in a way.”

  Suddenly they heard Momo call down from above them. “Look out below.”

  Leech leaned his head back to see the badger riding on a sleek thoroughbred griffin. It might have even been the one that had carried the vizier to the villa.

  A sack plummeted toward the ground, and the Amazons, who’d been tending their griffins, shoved their mounts away as they themselves jumped back before the bag thumped down in their midst with metallic cli
nks.

  “I found this stuff while I was taking my severance pay from the vizier’s baggage,” Momo hollered. She pointed to the large bundle still tied behind her on the griffin’s back and then pointed below. “I thought you might need your things back.”

  Leech ran to the sack immediately and opened it to reveal Pele’s charms, the pouch with the chess piece, and Leech’s armbands—the hag’s belt must still be at the citadel being studied by the mages. Māka’s zodiac necklace and belt of star charms were there, though, and so, unfortunately, was her grimoire.

  “My armbands,” Leech said, holding them up lovingly.

  “And my book,” Māka said, hugging it to her.

  Tute rolled his eyes. “There’s always some bad news to balance out the good.”

  Koko cupped his paws around his mouth to form a megaphone. “Okay, doll, I forgive you.”

  “That’s nice,” Momo shouted sassily, “but who asked you to do that, handsome? Maybe I’ll bump into you again somewhere somewhen and we can chat again.”

  “Count on it, doll,” Koko promised.

  At a kick of Momo’s heels, the griffin banked and then began flapping toward the south.

  Koko set his paws on his ample hips. “Now there goes a badger after my own heart.”

  “She turned out to be nice after all,” Leech said.

  Koko grinned. “Nice-schmice. Did you see the size of her sack of loot?”

  He was still shaking his head in admiration as Momo vanished into the sky, griffin, stolen treasure, and all.

  46

  Leech

  Leech couldn’t wait to mount the flying discs once more. As he rose into the air, Lord Tsirauñe gazed at him. “So it’s true.”

  Aware of all their eyes on him, Leech skipped through the air like a stone over a lake.

  Tute butted Māka’s hip. “Now, if you could work that kind of magic, we’d actually get to finish a performance.”

  “I’m afraid these are one of a kind,” Leech said as he glided back to them. He swung his arm, pleased at the familiar weight of his weapon armband.