by Marc Secchia
Here came Thunder.
The sound of the tall stallion’s hooves striking stone preceded him, echoes hammering around in the enclosed space into a crescendo that suddenly died away, chopped short in the throes of a tremendous leap. Thunder soared across the gemstone pipe. For half a breath, he was bathed in kingly glory. His mane seemed to sparkle and flow with a magic of its own. The rope burned through her fingers, uncoiling faster than her eye could follow.
And then sparks struck from his hooves. He slipped on the loose gravel. He scrabbled madly on the loose scree slope, kicking a shower of gemstones down into the pipe.
“THUND–!”
Shioni clapped a hand over her mouth. She willed him, she willed him home…
And he found purchase. Two, three steps clear, and the horse turned. Even across the divide, she could sense the burning of his gaze.
“I felt that.”
“W-W-What?”
“You did something.”
Shioni shook her head, pulling the rope taut, looping it around one of the thick stone columns on her side of the volcanic pipe. “I wished you safe. A bit like praying, I suppose.”
“Praying does not push a horse’s backside.”
“You were too busy finding your feet, you clumsy oaf! Your hooves, even.”
Azurelle was tapping her foot. Shioni sighed. “Thunder has a wild idea I pushed him up that slope with a wish and a prayer. Come on. Let’s get this stuff across. Pull the rope a bit tighter, would you, Thunder?”
She had to make three trips to get everything across the pipe. Talaku’s axe took one trip by itself. Hanging halfway across, with the weight of the massive weapon killing her shoulders, she did have to fight off a serious temptation to let it slip–accidentally, of course. But by the time she was done, Shioni was too tired to lift another finger. “Can I sit down now?”
“Cut the rope, pick up a garnet, load all of our things, and then you can rest on Thunder’s back while I take us the rest of the way,” ordered the Fiuri.
“At once, General Azurelle the slave-driver.”
“You grimy, grubby, good-for-nothing excuse for a slave-girl, I’ll have none of your lip,” declaimed the Fiuri, looking up from the scroll, upon which she had been pacing while Shioni dragged their belongings from one side of the volcanic pipe to the other.
The division of labour did not strike her as quite fair.
She picked up a garnet crystal the size of her hand and stuffed it into her bag. General Getu’s eye would pop when he saw it!
“It’s not actually that far from here,” said Zi, her wings all a-flutter in excitement. But they did nothing to support her in the air. Shioni noticed how quickly the Fiuri’s smile reasserted itself, however. “Four more traps, I make it, and then in an hour or so we should be out the other side just in time for the last rays of sunset.”
“Ooh, the sun!” Shioni leaped to her feet, her aches and pains momentarily forgotten. “I never want to see another cave, ever again!”
Chapter 20: Grass and Flowers
“Nearly two days in those caves,” Shioni grumbled. “I’ve never been so discouraged and frustrated in my life.”
“But we made it,” said Zi, shaking water droplets off her wings before checking them with exaggerated care. “How are my wings, Shioni? Do they look alright?”
“The wellsprings of your ample vanity have lost none of their former radiance.”
“Ooh, do I hear Princess Annakiya speaking?”
“No!”
“And now a lie. You are a very bad liar, Shioni.”
“Oh… go tell it to a hyena!”
Zi smoothed out the edges of her wings and dried them with a scrap of cloth–high quality cotton cloth, probably filched from the Princess’ bedchamber, Shioni thought crossly. But then a smile curved her lips. Thieves evidently hunted in pairs in the Kingdom of West Sheba!
How long would the warriors take to cross the mountain pass? They would be travelling under the cover of night, wouldn’t they? Otherwise they might just as well march into Chiro Leba banging on drums and tinkling their sistra for all the good it would do. A mountain squall to make things slippery–that would have been perfect. The undergrowth near the river had a touch of dampness to it, as if it had rained recently, but the brush always dried out so quickly once the sun emerged. It was hard to tell if the hint of moisture near the roots meant anything.
Shioni chewed her dry crust sparingly. Just look at Thunder stuffing himself on the luxuriant grasses along the watercourse! Lucky thing, he could eat almost anywhere. She had to content herself with a chunk of bread that could have been better used for a paving stone back at Castle Hiwot, which had somehow been missed in the bottom of her bag. Or, more likely, forgotten in there since the bag’s last excursion. Never mind. A few hearty swigs of water to chase the unappetising chunk down. Better stale bread than an empty stomach!
She dusted the crumbs off her hands and stood up. Time to move on and find Talaku. Now there was a thought to sour her digestion!
“You are in a foul mood,” Zi observed.
“I’m hungry, that’s all.”
The Fiuri screwed up her nose until Shioni looked away, cheeks burning. Yes, another lie. “You’re frightened of Talaku,” said Zi. “You’re scared of asking him for help.” Shioni wanted to shut her ears, but the piping little voice refused to be shut out. “You brought the axe to bargain with him–I’m right, aren’t I? And you’re thinking it’s a dirt-poor incentive.”
“Right, right, you’re always right.” Shioni popped the Fiuri into her pocket more clumsily than she had intended. “Sorry, I don’t mean to take it out on you. I’m grateful… I’m very, very glad you came through the mountain with me. I think I might have gone mad, otherwise.”
Azurelle regarded her speculatively. “You could show your gratitude by letting me snack on that frangipani tree before we head off.”
“I… er, oh. Shall I hold you?”
“Do your duty, slave-girl!”
“Or, if you’re going to continue being so cheeky, shall I rather toss you to the nearest hyena?”
“I’d charm him into rolling over to let me scratch his tummy. Can’t you see I already have you wrapped around my tiny little finger, slave-girl?”
“I’m warning you!”
As Shioni lifted the Fiuri into the branches of the fragrant frangipani with its distinctive, five-petalled white flowers, each with a bright yellow heart, Zi declaimed, “I have been taking lessons in the high art of snottiness from the Lord of all snot himself, Prince Bekele!”
Shioni nearly choked with laughter.
And then Zi unfurled her violet tongue and stuck it deep into the nearest flower.
Seven flowers later, Azurelle smacked her lips and snapped her fingers at Shioni. “That was mag-ni-fee-cent! My ride, if you please!”
Shioni whistled Thunder over to her. “So, an hour or so upriver, we should find a waterfall, and apparently our tame giant is right underneath it. I don’t know how that works…”
“We shall see.” Zi tucked her wings into Shioni’s tunic pocket. “You don’t suppose the moon would come out to light our path, do you?”
“I’ll wish it up just for you, Zi.”
“You’re my hero.”
“Ha.” Shioni squinted into the gathering gloom. The cicadas and crickets were already chirruping their evening song, filling their ears with buzzing, clicking and squeaking sounds that carried even over the sound of the river’s flow. The bats would soon flit out of their caves to feed on the insects swarming above the river. Insects–she slapped her neck crossly–that were far too fond of her blood. Blood-sucking fiends!
The trail would be challenging to follow until the moon rose–although, this section appeared to be mostly tall river grasses and reeds. Still, anything could be hiding in the dense undergrowth, anything at all. “Keep those bat eyes open, alright?” she said. “The moon won’t rise until the third hour.”
Chapter 2
1: Up and Under the River
The Fiuri’s ability to see in the dark, together with a steady stream of instructions, kept Thunder’s hooves on the trail. Their biggest scare was when they skirted a boulder only to find it was actually a sleeping hippopotamus, who was vocally unimpressed at having been disturbed.
“And to think that only last week, you accused me of waddling like a hippopotamus,” sniffed Thunder, flipping his mane proudly.
“Was that only last week? Two weeks, or…?”
Her memory of recent events was as jumbled as though a whirlwind had whistled through her brain–finding the secret Wasabi route through the mountains, Desta’s trial, an attempt on her life, being attacked twice by the giant–she exhaled gustily. He had a thing or two to answer for! Not least, splitting open her lip and robbing Castle Hiwot of its Princess. Never mind, she had stuck her dagger right through Talaku’s arm as a form of repayment.
Friends were like that.
Shioni eased her throbbing right foot. The infection was showing no signs of clearing up; rather, her foot was starting to resemble a rancid slab of meat. Red lines were spreading up her leg. She had no need of the daylight to confirm it. Her knee was swollen like one of those tasty melons they used to enjoy in Takazze. And just when she needed Mama Nomuula’s healing knowledge most urgently, here she was on a mission trying to deliver the Elite warriors of West Sheba from their own folly. How would she even fight? The mere bushing of grass blades upon her foot was torment.
And now she intended to bait a mad giant in his lair. She had to be crazy.
“Do I hear a waterfall ahead?” asked Zi.
As they rounded a bend in the trail, which squeezed them between the river and the mountain’s flank, they saw that the Fiuri was right. Here the full flow of the Mesheha River surged over a rocky ledge a hundred feet or more wide, crashing down into a pool before swirling away into the night. The moon was just peeking over the far ridge, bathing the scene in an ethereal glow. But Shioni had eyes only for the waterfall.
“Talaku’s in there,” she said, pointing across the pool. “I can sense him.”
“Your magic is growing, Shioni.”
She laughed curtly. “I don’t know about that, my friend. He’s just very… loud.” When she glanced down, Azurelle was gazing at her with such an unfathomable depth of regard that Shioni coughed and added, “What? It’s nothing, right? Come on, there must be a way around the edge.”
Shioni walked Thunder as far as she could before dismounting and continuing on foot. Never mind the cat-feet her warrior instructors always insisted upon–an elephant could have charged up to Talaku’s hideout without being heard over the low thunder of the waterfall. Leaving her bow and their meagre set of equipment with Thunder, she hefted Siltam over her left shoulder and kept her dagger handy in her right hand. No telling what mood might take Talaku of an evening.
Pause. Spy out the terrain, as she had been taught. Shioni noticed the shadows of bats flitting across the moonlight, hunting. Further along the river, an owl ghosted out of the scrub on pinions as silent as a moth. The night was so clear, she could make out a dozen or so marabou storks roosting atop an acacia tree across the river, making her imagine they were a group of stoop-shouldered, black-robed men gathered for a meeting of village elders. They were easily as tall as she was. Shioni shivered, imagining a group of storks attacking her, pecking away with their foot-long beaks… ugh! She limped to the water’s edge.
“Your leg is worse.”
“Do you miss your magic, Zi?”
The Fiuri caught her breath. “More than you can imagine. It… it is who I am. I can’t even feed myself without climbing to a flower like some unfortunate worm. But I have a friend who once told me she would help me steal my powers back from the witch Kalcha.”
Shioni began to squirm and stammer. Azurelle stopped her with a soft squeeze of her thumb. “No, please don’t misunderstand. Don’t feel accused. That promise is not broken. It is merely… delayed. I’m indebted to you, Shioni–please don’t feel indebted on my account.”
“I’m angry at Kalcha,” she growled back, stopping at the edge of the waterfall. “We haven’t done enough to help you. So little is known of you Fiuri–”
“If you squeeze along the rocks, it becomes hollow back there,” said Zi, indicating the way. “There’s room.”
“A squeeze for a giant. Not for me.”
The rocky shelf was hollowed out like a wave, leaving a half-tunnel twice Shioni’s height beneath the thundering flow. Although the rocks were slicked by the constant spray, Shioni and Zi did not even need to brave the rushing water.
“Hobble, hobble,” muttered Shioni, hoping her foot would not give way.
A goodly stone’s throw beneath the waterfall, they came upon a crack in the basal rock. From it issued a curl of smoke and a smell that made Shioni nearly faint with hunger. After a whispered consultation, they slipped inside. The path wiggled and twisted like an angry cobra as it burrowed deeper beneath the river. But they were drawn forward by the lucence of lamplight emanating from within the crevice, which soon opened out into a comfortable chamber–Talaku’s lair.
The cave was roughly furnished with a wooden bed made from what Shioni assumed was burned roof beams, lined with the hides of many goats; with a stool carved from the hacked-off stump of a tree; with a neat fireplace upon which a goat was roasting on a spit fashioned of a Wasabi spear; and the weapons and helmets of dozens of men had been tossed into one corner.
The giant looked up from the haunch of goat he was bolting down, startled but clearly trying not to show it.
Shioni greeted him thus, “I could have killed you five times over by now.”
Talaku stared at her long and hard–so long, that she was on the verge of losing her nerve, when suddenly his eyes lit up and, throwing back his huge, shaggy head, the giant’s belly-laugh bellowed forth. “You!” he kept saying, before bursting into laughter again. “You! I like you, girl! You’ve got guts. You’ve more guts than that entire castle of lily-livered backstabbers.” He slapped his knee, tears of mirth streaking his cheeks. “But you cheated in our race. Oh yes you did.”
Shioni held her tongue.
“Sit down!” he chortled. “Goat, anyone? Share life with me. Hello, pretty Fiuri. Be welcome.”
“Thank you,” trilled Azurelle.
Talaku engulfed the sizzling spit-roast with one hand and hacked off a generous portion for Shioni with his knife. “See that?” he said. “I don’t feel fire any more. Other sorts of pain, yes, like here where you stabbed my arm. But not fire.”
Shioni sat with alacrity on the stump he vacated for her. “Thanks!”
“You look as hungry as a starving wolf cub,” said Talaku. “Eat. How did you know I was here?”
Between hasty mouthfuls, not even bothering to mop up the meat juices running down her chin–which forced Zi to vacate her pocket for a ‘less carnivorous seat’–Shioni told him about the bearded vulture’s message from Anbessa, about decoding the stele by the cave, and how she had stolen the scroll from Princess Annakiya.
Talaku interrupted, waving his leg-bone at her, “Girl, as I told you, you’ve got real courage. So they suspect you? That you’re colluding with Kalcha?”
She nodded. “Exactly.”
The giant snarled a curse she did not quite catch and smashed his fist down on a nearby stone, pulverising it. He flung the remains of the bone across the cave as hard as he could.
Azurelle was making urgent signs toward the axe. “I–I brought you a gift,” said Shioni.
Talaku’s anger vanished as though it were a candle she had snuffed out.
“Siltam!” He cradled the weapon fondly, twirled it between his fingertips as though it were a reed rather than a mighty chunk of metal, and tested the sharpness of the blade with his thumb. “I missed you, my darling. With you on my back, I could have killed many more of those Wasabi dogs by now.”
“You love that axe far too much.”
“And, I did not cheat.”
“Shioni, let it go.”
“No, Zi, there’s a principle here.”
“So–you came to ask my help? You want me to help Captain Dabir... the same man who humiliated you? And wiped dung in your hair?” The giant’s voice had become flat, deadly calm, making Shioni acutely aware that she was sharing a confined space with a madman. “Even if we save his useless hide, he’ll want to try me for murder and you for theft and disobedience to the General’s direct orders.”
“I know. But Talaku, those Sheban warriors out there, many are your friends–”
“Are they? They were quick enough to sell me down the river.”
Azurelle chimed in, “They were warriors following orders, just as they are now.”
Talaku’s unshaven jowls dimpled into a huge grin. “You know what? You two are a pair of mosquitos buzzing around a man’s head in the dead of night, and no matter how much he thrashes his arms, he cannot swat the dratted pests.”
Shioni was about to laugh off the insult, when Zi shrilled, “I am not an insect, you overgrown warthog! I am a person, just like you!”
A shadow crossed the giant’s eyes then, a troubling of the waters of his soul. “You say: like me, the freak of a giant? Or you, little butterfly-person? Or her, the lady who hears animals, who can make her horse fly as the wind?”
“I did not…” Shioni’s voice trailed off. Lightning had struck, blinding her. Thoughts galloped about inside her head:
We’re racing Talaku across the broad meadow. The wind whistles in my ears. Thunder is overhauling the bounding giant, but not quickly enough. I think of the picture of the winged horse, the legend from Greece–what was his name? Pegasus? I send it to Thunder… and suddenly we are racing up behind the giant. I look down, wondering if I can still hear his hooves beat upon the earth…