City of Death

by Laurence Yep

  But he also felt himself swept along on a tide of confidence and the sheer joy of flying.

  Do you see Kemshap’s mistake? the Voice asked eagerly. He didn’t wait for Leech to answer. The longer the spikes become, the more they spread out.

  Finally Leech understood. Which leaves a gap for us.

  “Hold on,” the Voice said to both Leech and Scirye as they raced onward.

  65

  Scirye

  Scirye’s teeth clacked as they bounced off one spine and toward another. “Down,” Leech ordered.

  The humming of the discs rose to a whine when they hit the second spike, but instead of ricocheting off it, Leech squatted down and Scirye copied him as they skimmed along its length as if it were a road with a curved surface. The spikes, though packed densely together, still left a space of several yards between each of them.

  It was like entering a giant thornbush, and Scirye clung to him, trusting in her friend’s skill. They’d traveled this far, defeated powerful opponents, and fought through traps because they’d learned how to depend on each other. She wasn’t about to stop now.

  As the discs grated along the spike, Leech let out a whoop of sheer joy, and Scirye felt her own blood begin to race like a horse across the steppes, like a maenad dancing through vine-covered hills.

  “Euoi,” she murmured.

  Kles was coiled around her neck to keep a low profile. “Excuse me, lady?”

  “Nothing.” She laughed, feeling the wind rush against her face until her cheeks were numb. She was a Kushan and steppe and mountain and desert and now the sky were her playroom.

  Suddenly they began to strike little bumps along the irregular surface that knocked their heads against a spike above. Then she started to hear clunks and clacks behind her. She risked a glance in back of her and saw foot-long thorns begin to sprout from the sides of the giant spines. Kemshap had figured out what they were doing, but it was too late.

  They shot out of the thicket of spikes and Leech halted their momentum by pirouetting quickly in midair. He’d become a good flier in the short time she had known him, but she’d never seen him fly with such authority before.

  As they hovered in front of the cavernous mouth. Scirye swallowed as she stared at the stalactites and stalagmites with their iridescent bands. They looked so huge when you were up close. And the stench from the creature’s mouth almost made her gag. It smelled of rot, like the water in a stagnant marsh.

  Despite all of her noble speeches, she hesitated. If her plan didn’t work, it would be the nightmare of nightmares—swallowed alive, trapped in the damp darkness of the monster’s gullet.

  Kles brushed his beak ever so lightly across her cheek. “Live in glory and honor and joy, my lady, for you are my lare.”

  The next moment she felt a small paw tug at Pele’s charm around her neck. She gave a jump when it came away in his claws.

  “What—?” she began to protest, but the small griffin had unwrapped himself from around her neck, snaking down to snatch the arrow from her belt. Then, with the arrow in one paw and the charm in the other, he launched himself into the air.

  As he flew straight into the yawning maw, Kles cried defiantly, “Tarkar!”

  And then he was gone.

  66

  Leech

  The cry was torn right from Scirye’s heart. “Kles, why did you do that? I’m the one who’s supposed to go.”

  The Voice was already turning to escape. What’s wrong? She ought to be glad someone else is doing it.

  Leech sensed the Voice’s confusion. She loves him, and he loves her.

  I don’t understand love, the Voice said.

  Neither do I really, Leech admitted.

  But Primo was searching for me … I mean us, the Voice said. Does that mean Primo loves me?

  It’s got to count for something, Leech said.

  Though the griffin would be a gnat in comparison to the monster, Kemshap was all too aware of the arrow Kles was carrying. If it was possible for a living mountain to looked worried, he would have said that was what Kemshap was doing, because it had stopped dead in its tracks. Even its spikes remained stationary as it ignored them.

  That thing seems distracted, so I guess it’s safe enough if you take over, the Voice said. I can handle the flying but not her. You’re still better with people.

  Wanting to comfort his friend, Leech reached behind him and awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. “Kles didn’t want you to get hurt.”

  Scirye gave an anguished sob. “I wasn’t going to get hurt. The otter charm would have given me a way back out.”

  Leech glanced over his shoulder at her. “You can’t be sure. Maybe Kles was afraid it wouldn’t work on Kemshap like it did on the hag’s bag or a prison lock.”

  “I’ve got to go after him,” Scirye insisted. “You said it was hard living with the guilt over what Lee No Cha did. Well, I won’t be able to live with the guilt if something happens to Kles because he’s doing my job.”

  What do we do? the Voice asked Leech.

  We’ve got to help her, Leech replied.

  As he swung around, he took off his own charm from Pele and gave it to Scirye. Instantly, he began to feel the winter cold. “Here. It’s the latest fashion for diving into monsters.”

  67

  Scirye

  They zoomed up over a wide, curving cheek toward the giant pit that was its mouth, but Kemshap ignored them as they drew near. Instead, it seemed to be concentrating all its attention on its insides. Rocks and mud oozed down from the corners of its mouth like drool, and the stone formations in its mouth swayed as the walls of its mouth convulsed.

  The cavernous mouth opened and shut, spraying rocks and dirt about each time it closed. And when the mouth widened, Scirye could see the stalactites and stalagmites rocking and swaying as the monster’s throat spasmed, trying to cough up the invader.

  The stench made Scirye choke, but she did not complain. Somewhere within the blackness was her oldest and dearest friend fighting for his life. When she found him, she was going to give him the biggest hug he’d ever had—and then she’d pluck out every one of his feathers and hairs for scaring her like this.

  “Careful. I think Kemshap’s trying to gag,” Leech warned.

  Touching the otter charm for good luck, Scirye got ready to jump. Don’t think about the smell. Don’t think about the danger. Just think about the people who are dear to you. Think about the whole world.

  They’d all worked so hard and sacrificed so much just to get her to this point in time. For a moment, her heart was full of love, and she regretted that she couldn’t tell anyone else but Leech.

  Scirye gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks for being my friend.”

  “Thanks for being mine too, but don’t make it sound like we’ll never see each other again.” Leech slowed down as they passed over the void. “Good luck.”

  “You too.” Letting go of his neck, Scirye jumped into the wide fissure. “Yashe!” she cried.

  She’d meant to land in the space between two stalagmites, but they were rocking so violently that she hit one of the slippery columns instead, bouncing face-first into the muddy soil that formed the inside of Kemshap’s mouth.

  The earth clung to her so zealously that she had to strain to push herself away from it, and large patches of it oozed down the front of her clothes. She wiped her face with her sleeve, which was so dirty she thought she might have made herself even messier. All the epics she had read had not prepared her for this. It was more like being back in the sewers. Even a poet would have had trouble putting this into a heroic light.

  The stinking mud clung to her ankles at every step as she headed toward the shaft that served as the monster’s throat. The passage walls heaved in and out even more than Kemshap’s mouth. But she’d been afraid that Kemshap’s insides would be a solid, impenetrable mass. At least this gave her a possible route to her griffin.

  “Kles?” she shouted down into it. Her vo
ice echoed back to her, but there was no sign of her friend. All she could do was hope as she slid down the damp gullet. The dirt that formed the throat had an oily feeling, and as she moved along it, she felt the greasiness soak her clothes and skin. She wondered how many baths it would take before she felt clean again—assuming she survived.

  Down, down she slipped, the only light coming from the glowing mark on her palm. She lost all sense of time and distance. She only knew that the smell was getting worse.

  Suddenly her boot soles slammed against something. By the dim light from her palm, she saw that she had landed on dirt poles about the thickness of broom shafts, but unlike the throat and mouth the soil was hard as concrete.

  Had this tangle always been there or was it a trap that Kemshap had created just now for Kles? The monster had probably never met such a tiny threat as the griffin before and must be frantically improvising defenses.

  For a moment, pride for her friend drove away her own fears. Touching the pouch containing the otter charm, Scirye eased a leg between a narrow opening. The dirt poles writhed, widening the space so she could lower her other leg.

  “Kles?” she called.

  “Go away,” came the faint voice. “You weren’t supposed to follow me.”

  He was still alive! Scirye almost laughed with delight as she continued to climb down. “You’re getting to be as much of an old grump as Bayang.”

  “It’s from associating with a willful mistress who’s determined to throw her life away,” Kles shouted back.

  “Well, that’s what you get for trying to throw yours away instead,” Scirye scolded. “I won’t allow it. So wait for me.”

  Kles gave an embarrassed cough. “I … um … don’t seem to have much choice in the matter.”

  For the first time since she had jumped, Scirye was enjoying herself. “Oh, so you got stuck without the otter charm, did you? That’s what you get for not taking me along.”

  She could just imagine the griffin squirming wherever he was. “Humph, a polite person wouldn’t tease another’s misfortune.”

  “You’ve called me an unmannered savage a lot of times,” Scirye reminded him.

  “Only when you do things like use the tip of my tail as a paintbrush,” Kles huffed.

  When Scirye reached Kles, he was caught in a cage of twiglike sticks formed from dirt. Kemshap seemed to have kept decreasing the size of the shafts until he’d filled his throat with a dense mesh that had finally snared the invader.

  Scirye’s fingers parted the bars of the cage. “Oh, Kles, promise me you’ll never do that again.”

  “Then promise me that you’ll stop fighting legendary monsters,” the griffin retorted. He was gripping the precious arrow in one claw as he crept through the opening. “I’m too old to be diving down throats.” He pressed himself against her cheek. “But thank you for rescuing me.”

  She hugged him back. “Now for the hard part. We have to find Kemshap’s heart.”

  Kles held up the arrow. “But this knows. I can feel it quivering like a hound that’s caught the scent.”

  Scirye touched a finger to the arrow shaft and felt the electric tingle. “Then let’s go.”

  The griffin eased up onto a shoulder and wrapped around the back of her neck in his favorite position.

  The dirt bars became finer and finer until they were like a web, and even began to grow sticky with some gluelike substance, but nothing could stop them.

  Finally, Kles tightened a paw on her arm. “The arrow’s tugging me toward that passage to your left. Take it.”

  The tunnel was about four feet wide and angled up gently, the wrinkly walls pulsing as she began to climb up. Suddenly her hands and feet began to slip as the surface became oily. She would have slid backward if she hadn’t shoved her feet out on either side between the folds.

  Though it was hard to grip the greasy dirt with her hands or find purchase with her feet, she slowly began to climb. The walls vibrated in a rapid, regular rhythm, and she became aware of how warm it was getting.

  By the time they reached the chamber, she was sweating and Kles’s fur and feathers were also matted with perspiration.

  By the dim, blue-ish light within the chamber, she saw a black crystal the size of a house suspended between what looked like hoses of mud. Through the murky material, she could make out something spinning inside with wide, flat blades like the agitator of a washing machine. As it whirled and whirled, it sent fluid pulsing back and forth through the giant hoses.

  “Here, take the arrow,” Kles said, holding it out. His paw shook as if he were having trouble holding the arrow now that it was so near its prey.

  “Let’s do it together,” Scirye said as she wrapped her fingers around the arrow shaft just above his paw. It seemed like a puny twig compared to the giant heart.

  “Look out!” Kles said.

  Just in front of them, a column of dirt shot up from the floor with the force of a pile driver. Two more columns descended to thud against the floor.

  Scirye hopped to her left and then jogged several steps, zigging and zagging, trying never to be predictable. She almost fell into a hole that opened suddenly in front of her but managed to jump over it.

  “I’ll draw its attention,” Kles said.

  She grabbed his tail and held on for dear life. “No! You’re never leaving my side again. It … it hurt too much when I thought I lost you.”

  Kles freed his tail from her grip. “Very well,” he agreed and then yelled. “Watch out! On your right.”

  They barely ducked under the spikes that shot out from the wall.

  Scirye had no time to think, letting instinct twist her body and make her dodge and jump. But finally they reached the heart.

  There wasn’t time to pause. “Now!” she said, and she and the griffin lunged forward, shoving the arrow together into the heart. Even though they had thrust with all their might, the arrow didn’t penetrate more than a few inches.

  So her guess had been wrong and all this effort had been wasted.

  But then the arrow began to wriggle as if alive. Startled, she and Kles let go and watched it expand as it carved its way another inch. The heart began to convulse.

  “Yi’s magic must have been as powerful as his arm,” Kles said.

  All about them, the chamber began to shake as if in an earthquake. One more inch deeper. Then two. Then an entire foot, and with each second the arrow grew wider until it was nearly a foot wide.

  A chunk of the ceiling crashed down on the left. A fissure cracked the floor on the right. Then a hose burst, spraying a purplish ichor all about.

  Still, the arrow burrowed like a snake, biting into Kemshap’s heart until it was up to the feathers at the end. Finally it disappeared out of sight.

  Cracks began to snake across the surface of the heart as if it were shattering.

  “We did it, Kles,” she said, too tired to cheer.

  “Well done, lady,” the griffin answered, trying to brush the dirt away from her face with a gentle paw.

  A piece of the heart broke off and thudded against the floor, and then another and another until there was only a pile of rubble. A feathered shaft protruded from one piece. It had shrunk back to its former size now that its task was done.

  “This is too dangerous to leave lying around.” When her hand closed around the arrow, she felt it quiver and her palm grew warm and began to glow. When she yanked it free, the arrow began to tug at her arm.

  It must still want to fight Kemshap even though the monster’s dead, Scirye thought to herself.

  Forcing her arm to stay at her side, she turned toward the passage through which they had come. But it had aleady collapsed. There would be no return journey.

  Scirye wrapped an arm around Kles. She was glad she wasn’t alone right now. “I love you, Kles.”

  The griffin’s small paws circled her neck. “And I love—” he began, but then the floor gave way beneath her and the ceiling dropped, burying them completely.

/>   68

  Leech

  Lady Sudarshane, Lord Tsirauñe, and the Amazons were weeping, and even Koko was snuffling as they stared at Kemshap. Below them, the monster had collapsed in a hodgepodge of hills and its spikes had become huge burrows of dirt and rock.

  And somewhere in that debris, Scirye and Kles were buried alive.

  Koko sank down on his knees in the mist. “Geez, what a way to go.”

  Leech felt tears stinging the corners of his eyes. Scirye was the most opinionated person he had ever met, but she had also been the most decent, honest, and reliable human he had ever known. So Leech had wanted to measure up to her own high standards, and even Koko had tried to be a better badger.

  I’m sorry she’s gone, the Voice sympathized.

  Bayang put a paw on his shoulder. “So, do we need to settle anything between us?”

  Leech knew the dragon was speaking not to him but to the Voice. Well? he asked the Voice.

  You’re right, Leech, the Voice said. The times are different, and I have to change to live in them.

  Leech turned slowly on his heel so he could face the dragon. “You’re different. We’re all different. So let’s try to be friends.”

  Bayang looked relieved. “Good. Because we have more important things to do than fight a feud that should have ended a long time ago.”

  “Important things like rescuing Scirye?” Leech asked.

  “We’re going to dig right there.” Bayang pointed at the broken marble column protruding from the hill, all that was left of the third arrow, the one that Scirye had not transformed back to its original shape. “I figure that marks where Kemshap’s heart should be.”

  And for a moment, next to the marble stump, Leech glimpsed Māka in her gaudy robe standing next to an impatient lynx, but then they were gone as soon as he blinked. “I get it. The old arrow is probably near the heart where Scirye and Kles are.”

  Bayang turned and waved to Primo. “Will you take us to Roland’s camp so we can get pickaxes and more shovels?”

  “Gladly,” Primo said and he began to swing his cloud about.