Nassata gave a genuine smile. “Not at all. About a decade ago, I did some traveling abroad. I found myself in a bit of trouble, and Gretchen helped me out. We traveled together for a while—did some fighting too, for that matter—and found ourselves to be something of kindred spirits. Unfortunately I haven’t seen her since, not before today. I would have liked to have come for a visit under different circumstances and stayed longer, but such is life. We had each promised to call on the other should help be needed, so it was quite natural to go to her when I heard what it is she now does. She is a good person in a business where there are few good people.”
“That’s the truth,” Toman agreed. “She’s done a fair bit for us too, although we try to reciprocate.”
“Maybe when this is all over you can go visit her,” Esset suggested, looking over at Toman. “I imagine that we’ll be heading back this way ourselves, and we could cut your traveling time and whatnot again.”
“I wouldn’t have a problem with that,” Toman agreed with a small nod. “I’m afraid we have a bad habit of seeing her as a sergeant, with no life beyond her work. We know that’s not right, but…” He shrugged.
“But she has never been a person to discourage that perception,” Nassata added insightfully.
Esset blinked. “That’s true.” Maybe she wanted to be seen that way, but it still didn’t seem right to him.
“I thank you for the offer,” Nassata added. “I may take you up on it, but it remains to be seen how things will unfold.”
“Yeah.” Esset leaned in. “Speaking of which, I imagine we’ll be wanting to get to work right away when we get there. What can you tell us about the current situation that would be helpful?”
Nassata shook her head. “It will be far more effective to wait until we reach Salithsa. Our underground city can be difficult to comprehend without maps, and we will be better able to strategize once we fully understand your capabilities.”
“Fair enough,” Toman conceded. “We’ll have to wait until we get there then.”
Conversation shifted to mundane topics until evening. After dark they shifted around and distributed blankets so they could each sleep comfortably while the carriage moved endlessly towards their destination.
It was their third day of travel. Over the past hour or so, Toman and Esset had noticed the terrain growing rougher. They hadn’t paid it much mind, however; the roads varied in quality depending on the area and local ruler, and there had even been a few occasions where the carriage had detoured off-road and through fields.
Toman and Esset were relaying a humorous story of a job they’d done a year ago. They were concluding the tale when Esset felt something suddenly slip around his ankle. He jumped in surprise and looked down in time to see the tip of Nassata’s tail vanish back into the mass of coils that filled most of the floor space in the carriage cabin.
“Ah—I apologize,” Nassata said, bowing her head slightly. “I did not intend anything.”
“Uh, s’all right,” Esset stammered, obviously feeling awkward.
“My people are very tactile, and it is a cultural quirk of ours that we like to be in physical contact with those we are conversing with. I’m afraid I have spent so little time away from my people recently that habit took over while I was engrossed in your story. When I went abroad in the past, I was much better at restraining such habits.”
Esset noticed that she really did look sheepish. It was also readily apparent to him why she hadn’t tried the same with Toman; she and Toman were on the same side of the carriage, so there was no preventing her long tail from being pressed up against his leg already.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Esset replied, relaxing now that he understood. “I’ll try to restrain from jumping next time.” He smiled crookedly at her, and she gave a little hiss of a laugh.
“I do not know how my people will react to you, however. I would say you should accustom yourself to such things, but in truth, your reception may be less than warm. Few humans come to our home, and few of us travel abroad, so most will likely be rather wary of you.” Her tone was still somewhat apologetic.
“Well, it’s nice to know either way,” Toman replied seriously. “We don’t want to offend anyone unintentionally.”
“Hopefully that will not be an issue. The upside of having so little exposure to outsiders is that we are very aware that our customs are not theirs, and theirs not ours. No one should expect you to know our ways, much less our etiquette and habits.”
Esset was nodding seriously at her words. He was about to add something when the carriage slowed and, for the first unexpected time in three days, stopped.
There was a moment of mild surprise from all of them before Toman stated the obvious. “I think we’re here.”
Esset leaned over and opened the door. They’d passed through the rough terrain to their destination. They’d stopped near a large, rocky outcropping, the furthest the carriage could go. They would have to proceed on foot.
“Finally!” Esset hopped out of the carriage and indulged in an exaggerated stretch. Nassata emerged next, taking in a deep, appreciative breath of fresh air. Toman came out last, and he smiled, glad to finally be free of their confines as well. After closing the door behind him, he looked around and directed the horses to a spot where they and the carriage would be mostly concealed until the brothers came to retrieve them. And if anyone tried to steal them in the meantime, the horses had directions to lead the would-be burglars on a merry chase and then return to the spot. Meanwhile, Esset retrieved the packs they’d be taking with them.
“Okay, let’s go,” the animator said when he was finished. Nassata had taken the opportunity to get her bearings and now headed off to lead the way. The landscape became very rocky, and she led them up a narrow path that wound through the rocks. They climbed quite a ways in before stopping at the top, where a concealed cave entrance waited.
“Here,” she said. “This leads to Salithsa, the home of my people.” She seemed all too eager to plunge into the darkness. Toman and Esset both cast one last, wistful look at the sun and followed her into the dark tunnel.
They hadn’t made it a dozen paces in when Esset tripped and almost landed on his face. Nassata’s hand darted out and clamped around his bicep, saving him from the faceplant.
“If we stop, I can light this lantern,” Toman said. A rustling sound betrayed that he was already rummaging in his pack. The rustling continued for quite a while, the only noise in the dark of the cave.
“Here, let me help,” Nassata offered, and her scaled hands took Toman’s bag away from him.
“I take it you can see just fine,” Toman replied wryly.
“Compared to our day vision, we Nadra see poorly in the dark, but our heat sense helps us,” Nassata replied. “I had forgotten that humans are blinder yet without light.”
Light flared bright, then settled to a soft glow as Nassata lit the wick of the lantern. The Nadra was tilting her head to the side thoughtfully.
“Although…perhaps we are simply more used to it. Our tunnels are far more softly lit than the outside world, and when we warriors patrolled uninhabited sections of Salithsa, we often went without any lights at all. Now, of course, with the Reshkin…” Nassata broke off with a sigh and passed the lantern to Esset. “Well, you’ll see. Let’s continue.”
Knowing more information would come, Toman and Esset fell into step just behind her.
They hadn’t gone much further when Nassata suddenly said, “Ah, the sentries,” and thrust the haft of her spear towards Toman. Surprised, Toman took the weapon from her purely out of reflex as Nassata lunged forwards, away from them. There was a thud of scales hitting scales and the dry sound of their bodies struggling on the stony ground.
Bewildered, Toman and Esset quickly moved forward a couple steps so that their lantern-light illuminated the scene; Nassata appeared to be fighting with one of her own kind. A third Nadra slithered out of darkness, holding a spear with a metal haf
t. He was a powerful-looking creature, his bare, scaled chest and arms muscular and rather intimidating. He had no hair to speak of, and his scales gleamed a dark green while his eyes glinted emerald in the lantern-light. His gaze wasn’t entirely friendly, and it was fixed on Toman and Esset. He completely ignored the pair struggling on the tunnel floor.
The pair of young men froze when they saw him, but he simply stood ready. His spear was held vertically, so they were relatively certain he at least wasn’t overtly hostile towards them. His disregard for the fighting pair convinced the young men that it was more a spar than a fight. Esset kept his eye on the green Nadra, but Toman snuck a look at the fight going on at the edge of their circle of light.
Nassata’s opponent appeared to be another male of her kind, this one appearing a bit younger—from what Toman could see—and of a somewhat lighter build than the other male. His scales were a pale yellow, and like the two other Nadra that Toman and Esset had seen so far, his eyes, when they caught the light, gleamed a brighter shade than his scales, making them a bright yellow topaz. Unlike the green Nadra, the yellow male had ridges along the sides and back of his head, giving him a fierce appearance despite his smaller stature.
Toman couldn’t help but be impressed by their struggle. They were incredibly fast when they moved in striking motions, and their style of fighting made full use of that strength. The fighters moved constantly, but their flowing movements were punctuated by sudden, abrupt striking motions that Toman’s eyes could barely track at times. Their battle was about speed and leverage, far more so than strength. He had no doubt that either of them could overpower him if they chose, but he had a feeling that wouldn’t be a tactic that either would choose.
“Tsan! Were I foe, you would be dead!” Nassata taunted as they suddenly broke apart, raising her torso high and her arms higher, her fingers crooked into claws that were pointed at Tsan. The yellow Nadra bared his teeth at her, but he was smiling.
“Nassata, you are softer than I remember—has so little time away made you lose your luster?” he taunted back. There was another thud of scales-on-scales as the pair both lunged and crashed together. They grappled and their bodies jerked from side to side in a match, not of strength, but of who could topple the other with a sudden, unpredicted movement.
“Tsan, Nassata.” The green Nadra’s voice was deep, slow, and deliberate, but elicited an instant reaction from the pair. Their grips on each other loosened, and Nassata slipped one arm around Tsan’s waist as she turned to face the green Nadra, shifting her coils atop Tsan’s and moving behind his torso until she was looking at the green Nadra over the yellow Nadra’s shoulder.
“Yes, Asiran?” she said, surprisingly demure as she placed her chin on Tsan’s shoulder. To Esset, it seemed like a strangely intimate gesture, and he wondered if there was something between them. Then he remembered what Nassata had said about the Nadra being an extremely tactile race, and he wondered if that was all it was.
“We expected you back later,” Asiran replied. He had yet to take his eyes from Toman and Esset.
“I made decent time there, and excellent time back,” Nassata replied, shifting to look at Asiran from over Tsan’s other shoulder. Tsan reached one hand back to slide against her scales as she moved off from atop him on his other side and then away from Tsan completely, towards Asiran. “I did not want to take any longer than necessary.”
“I expected something…more,” Asiran replied, looking Toman and Esset up and down. Esset knew how they looked, himself especially. Young. Weaponless. Skinny—especially next to the lithely muscular Nadra. But the pair had practice at not taking offense to others’ hesitation, since it wasn’t an uncommon reaction. Neither one of them looked like he could deal much damage.
Nassata slid up beside Asiran and ran a hand up the arm holding the spear before ducking under it and pressing her back up against his chest as she looked up at him and replied. Asiran placed one hand on her shoulder in response.
“Gretchen assured me that these two can help us better than a mercenary company,” she said. “And I believe her. I’ve seen some of what one of them, at least, can do.” Now Asiran looked down at her.
“Very well,” he replied. “Retrieve your spear and proceed.” Nassata flashed a smile up at him and slithered back towards Toman and Esset. Asiran let his hand run down her arm as she pulled away. Yes, Esset decided with a tilt of his head, this is just the tactile tendency of the Nadra that Nassata had mentioned.
“Come,” Nassata bade them to follow her, holding out her hand for her spear. Toman happily handed it over as they stepped forward. Tsan had vanished for a moment and reappeared with a spear of his own, just in time to salute them with it as they passed. Esset was all too aware of Asiran’s eyes on them as they passed him and continued down the tunnel again. Nassata had mentioned that they might not be welcomed by every Nadra…
The three didn’t encounter anyone else until a glow of light had appeared ahead. By the sound and light radiating from the end of the passage, Esset guessed that the city was just beyond the curve, but they stopped to greet two more sentries that stood there.
“Tseka, Sokess.” Nassata slithered forward and both sentries took turns clasping her forearm in a warrior’s clasp. Then one of them locked her red eyes on Toman and Esset.
“So, these must be our…saviours.” She sounded distinctly less than welcoming. The warrior—Nassata had greeted her as Tseka—was very striking, with brilliant scarlet scales burnished to a dull sheen. Her eyes were utterly fearsome, a vibrantly bright shade of blood-red. Her hair was a startling orange-red as well, and it was pulled back in huge, thick braids and wound around her body in a harness around her torso.
“Toman and Esset.” Nassata introduced them.
With a very sudden movement, Tseka was next to the two humans, quick as a striking snake. She raised her torso up on her coils so that she towered over them, deliberately looming in an intimidating fashion. She bared her teeth and hooked her fingers into claws.
Toman and Esset both stepped back and braced themselves, but their faces only hardened in determination—there was no trace of fear. There was a long moment where neither moved. Toman and Esset were unwilling to take preemptive action, and although Tseka was being hostile towards them, she hadn’t actually attacked them yet—although given how fast she moved, neither was entirely sure they could stop her in time if she chose to attack.
“We’ve no quarrel with you,” Toman finally said after the conflict had stretched on long enough.
“Huh.” Tseka suddenly relaxed, her torso sinking back down into her coils until her head was level with theirs.
“Well, they’re not a waste of time at least,” Tseka suddenly said to Nassata over her shoulder, her smile slightly malicious. Esset looked slightly disconcerted.
“Oh, come on, I was just playing with you,” Tseka said, slapping them both on the shoulders; Esset winced. Tseka didn’t apologize.
“Tseka likes her…games,” Nassata said, directing her explanation at Toman and Esset. She looked like she was considering apologizing on Tseka’s behalf, but she didn’t. “Come, you must see the city.”
“I’ll catch up with you later,” Tseka promised, but it was ambiguous who she was speaking to; she had already returned her gaze down the tunnel she was guarding.
Toman and Esset weren’t given any time to consider the semi-hostile exchange, for the tunnel had opened into a massive cavern, and they were struck by the sight of the underground city.
“Our city is beautiful, yes?” Nassata asked proudly. They both nodded dumbly. They stood in the entrance to the cavern, and a few meters in front of them was a ledge, beyond which dropped the bowl of the cavern. The ledge spiraled down the cavern walls, creating a walkway for the Nadra down the tiers carved into the stone bowl that was their city.
“You see the entrances along the various tiers?” Nassata asked. Esset nodded. “Some are simply rooms or suites, but others are tunnels that lead to ot
her parts of the city. Our tunnels intersect many times. This is only one of three great caverns, which act like a nexus.”
Esset noticed that there were no doors to any of the rooms, homes, shops, or tunnels; there were only curtains, some made of cloth, others of beads and the like. The stone beneath their feet had been polished so smooth it practically glowed. Generations of Nadran scales slithering across it had polished it more perfectly than any artisan could ever hope to.
“Look up,” Nassata suggested. They did, and they saw that they weren’t on the top floor. Several tiers were yet above them, and the ceiling arced higher yet. The whole place was illuminated by a remarkably clear and bright light that emanated from the ceiling. The roof of the cavern was covered in stalactites, jutting down in various lengths and diameters. Esset thought they’d been polished and hollowed out, then packed with some kind of bioluminescent organism—moss or lichen, most likely, or perhaps some kind of bug. Before he could ask, Nassata was speaking again.
“The art in our city is the pride of our people,” she remarked. “It is a great honor to maintain it or paint new sections.” Esset could see why. Somehow, thoughts of caves and caverns and all things underground brought to mind thoughts of washed-out colors and monotonous surroundings. Not so in the Nadran world; Salithsa was a painted city.
The snake-people didn’t favor murals, paintings depicting scenes, events, or images of concrete things. Instead they seemed to favor geometric patterns or more abstract swirls of color. But each painted section flowed into the next with no jarring transitions or apparent asymmetry. And they used every color imaginable—their underground world was rich in minerals with which to make paints of every kind and color.
The last thing Esset noticed was how warm it was; again, the typical thought of a cave evoked a damp coolness that was lacking here. In fact, if anything, he would have described it as the exact opposite: a comfortable, dry warmth. It was rather pleasant in the underground city.
Calling On Fire (Book 1) Page 12