Starless

by Jacqueline Carey

  One by one, the remaining tentacles unwound themselves from around our waists and retreated, waving in the air above the sea. The Oracle’s eight eyes closed once more for the space of a few heartbeats, then opened ink-black and blazing, all eight of its beaked mouths speaking in unison.

  “Miasmus awakens!” Kephalos the Wise cried in a voice that rang out across the Caldera. “Flee!”

  The sea erupted.

  Sea-spiders, the firstborn children of Miasmus; hundreds of them, crawling forth in a great black wave.

  “To the ship!” I shouted, already racing along the ledge in retreat. “Everyone! Now!”

  I paused long enough to hoist Zariya into the saddle by main force, tucking her canes under one arm. “Hold tight to its neck,” I said. She nodded and obeyed without a word. The porter was wide-eyed with terror. “Run,” I advised him. “I’ll turn the donkey loose later.”

  He nodded, too.

  Behind us, the Oracle of the Nexus flailed its powerful tentacles, sweeping dozens of sea-spiders into the water with every blow; but there were simply too many of the small creatures, scrambling up the crags in a rising tide. I grabbed the donkey’s lead-rope and hauled, dragging it behind me.

  A great shout split the sky behind us: Tarrok the Thunderclap. I stole a glance over my shoulder and saw the tide of sea-spiders momentarily stunned. Other members of our company streamed past us.

  “Fire!” Jahno shouted at the priests and priestesses of the Oracle. “Fetch torches! Oil! You need fire to kill them for good!”

  Evene was panting.

  Lirios’s wings were buzzing in agitation. “What can I do?”

  I tossed Zariya’s canes to him. “Carry these.”

  He caught them deftly and whipped up the steep trail; I saw him pause at the top, silhouetted against the sky. “Oh, no.”

  Prophets of Miasmus.

  There were at least two score of them arrayed in the Pilgrims’ Plaza; men and women, young and old, armed and bare-handed, every single one of them marked in some part, arms and legs and torsos and even one on her face, by the suppurating sign of the black star. It struck me that there was a deadly clarity of purpose to them that I had not seen before, and I thought it must be because Miasmus was no longer dreaming, but awake and watching through their eyes. The pilgrims and ordinary folk in the plaza had retreated to avoid them, giving them a healthy berth.

  I halted beside Lirios, the rest of our company fetching up behind me.

  The oldest of the prophets pointed at us with a gnarled forefinger. “Defenders of the four quarters,” she said in a quavering voice that was all the more disturbing for the fact that it was almost kind. “You have found one another, but your cause is in vain. Miasmus awakens and the darkness rises, ready to drown the world and you with it. Today is the day you die.”

  “Do what you must, my darling,” Zariya murmured, her arms still twined in a death grip around the donkey’s neck.

  I handed the lead-rope to Essee and glanced at Lirios. “Can you fight, Quick?”

  He nodded and drew his narrow blade, tossing Zariya’s canes to a startled Jahno. “I think so. I have trained at it, anyway.”

  Pahrkun’s wind was rising, skirling around my ankles, blowing through me. “Then let us do so.”

  Innocents.

  There was a part of me that grieved at the necessity of killing so many folk whose only crime was having the bad luck to be afflicted; and yet it was clear there was no other way. I drew my yakhan and my kopar and cut a swath through them; one step, two steps, three steps. I targeted those with weapons, doing my best to avoid the unarmed prophets. The mayfly’s wings buzzed, his thin sword darted. He fought with more speed than skill, but his speed was enough.

  We made a path.

  Essee plunged into it, hauling the donkey behind her. Zariya clung to its neck. One by one the others followed, shouting at the milling pilgrims and spectators and vendors to run, flee, get away.

  Behind us, the sea-spiders recovered and climbed.

  Between this and that, I killed a score or more of the afflicted, their blood staining my blades.

  It was enough to allow our company to pass. Lirios and I fled along the path that we’d forged. Panic began rising behind us as people realized what was happening and sought to flee the square.

  “Should we not stand and fight?” Lirios inquired; he was not even the slightest bit winded from his exertions. “Is that not our duty?”

  I shook my head grimly. “The children of Miasmus are drawn to our presence. The greatest gift we can give the people of the Caldera is our absence.”

  It was a thing easier said than done, for panic had outraced us and now that we had left the square behind us, the narrow, crowded streets were a solid press of people. I could see Zariya’s head a block ahead of us, higher than the rest of the crowd thanks to her mount, and could only trust the others were with her. A surging mass of bodies separated us from our companions.

  There was a sign hanging from a stout iron rod protruding from a tavern to my left. Moving without thinking, I sheathed my weapons, grabbed the rod, and hoisted myself atop it, catching my balance and propelling myself to the rooftop. The roofs were fairly flat and the buildings close together. I ran along the rooftops, leaping over the gaps between them.

  Lirios the mayfly pulled alongside me. “May I ask what your plan is?”

  “I don’t have one.” I hadn’t exactly meant to leave him behind, but I hadn’t expected him to keep up with me, either. “Any suggestions?”

  “No,” he admitted. “I am very new to this.”

  “You’re nine years old.” Now I was close enough to see with relief that our company had kept together, closed in a protective knot around Zariya atop her donkey; however, the way before them was completely blocked. “You’re very new to everything.”

  “My every year is as three of yours,” Lirios said with a touch of wounded dignity. “I am older for a man of my people than you, I think.”

  I ignored him, my mind ticking over the possibilities. Jahno and Tarrok were shouting for people to give way and let them pass, but everyone was pushing and shouting by now and their words were lost in the din. I almost wished Tarrok hadn’t used the Thunderclap on the sea-spiders. It was a formidable weapon, but he had told us it took at least an hour to recoup the prodigious amount of energy it expended. Then again, if he hadn’t bought us time, this might already be over.

  Could Lirios and I haul our entire company to the rooftops? If we’d had rope, maybe. Without it, no.

  I could kill everyone blocking the way and create a mountain of corpses for us to clamber over in pursuit of our escape. It was a course of last resort and not a pleasing prospect.

  We caught up with our crowd-stranded company. Zariya saw me atop the roof and lifted her face, dark eyes pleading. Behind us there was screaming. The children of Miasmus were coming, scuttling along the cobblestones.

  Coming for us.

  I ground my teeth in frustration, my hands balling into fists. Unexpectedly, I heard Brother Saan’s voice in my memory.

  Let your mind be like the eye of the hawk …

  I found a point of stillness, my thoughts drifting, and then it came to me; a solution so simple and obvious that it struck me like a slap to the face.

  “Evene!” I shouted from the rooftop. “Opener of Ways!” She did not hear me, but one of the Elehuddin did and gave her a sharp poke in the arm with one clawed fingertip. Evene shot me a stricken look, her features blank with terror. I mimicked the gesture she had once made, folding and opening my hands. “A way is not always a door! You said you could part a crowd. Do it!”

  Gradual understanding replaced her expression of paralyzed fear; I watched her close her eyes and gather her concentration, placing her palms together, then opening them as though she were lifting a great weight. And slowly, slowly, the crowd before our trapped company parted, folk plastering themselves to the walls, confused looks on their myriad faces.

>   I let out a whoop of triumph.

  “I do not understand what is happening,” Lirios said in bewilderment. “Why are the people doing that?”

  I grabbed his forearm and squeezed it. His skin was warm to the touch, warmer than ordinary skin. “Later. Are you with us?”

  His aquamarine eyes blazed. “Yes!”

  “Come, then.”

  We ran along the rooftops, following as our company fled down the path that Evene had opened; fled through the narrow streets, the sound of screaming growing fainter behind us as we neared the verge of the town. On the final rooftop, I hung from my fingertips and dropped to solid ground. Lirios followed suit, landing soundlessly. This early in the day, the descending path to the small harbor we had chosen was clear. We scrambled down it, passing porters and donkeys and pilgrims going the other way and calling out warnings to them. The Elehuddin whistled sharply to the sea-wyrms in the harbor, who raised their heads and trilled alarmed answers.

  “Go, go, go!” Jahno urged us, although no one needed urging.

  “My lady, forgive me, I mean no disrespect,” Tarrok said to Zariya, scooping her bodily from the saddle and cradling her in his arms.

  “I take none,” she assured him, her breath raspy with the effort of speaking.

  On the wharf, I drew my weapons and made a stand to guard our retreat. Lirios joined me unbidden. Behind us, the Elehuddin scrambled to untie the mooring lines. Before us, a rivulet of sea-spiders was pouring down the path, sowing fresh panic in their wake, finding horrible purchase in the bodies of those humans unable to flee in time.

  I pitied their victims, but it was the fast-moving stream of the children of Miasmus that worried me. There wasn’t a blessed thing that Lirios and I could do against hundreds or thousands of the creatures. If they reached us, we would all be numbered among the afflicted and the battle lost.

  “They’re coming fast,” Lirios observed, his wings whirring.

  “I know.” I turned my head to shout over my shoulder. “Are we nearly ready to cast off?”

  “Yah!” Jahno shouted in reply. “Now!”

  The ship’s prow was already angling out to sea. Kooie clung to the boarding ladder on the stern, prepared to cast off the last line. Seeing our pounding approach, he wasted no time, unhitching the rope and swarming up the ladder. Taking it as a sign to depart, the sea-wyrms leaned into their bits and the ship began to pull away from the dock. There were sharp trills and whistles and cries of “Go back!”

  I stole a glance behind us. The sea-spiders had reached the wharf, the black tide advancing toward our fleeing heels.

  “Keep going!” I shouted, shoving my weapons into their sheaths and praying that Lirios was as agile as he appeared to be. I rounded onto the dock without slackening my speed, sandals slapping the wooden planks, and launched myself toward the stern of the retreating ship, catching the railing and vaulting aboard.

  The mayfly’s leap wasn’t graceful, but it was prodigious. He hung suspended in the sky, arms and legs akimbo, his translucent wings spread and his sword still gripped tight in his left hand before catching the uppermost rung of the boarding ladder with his right hand and dangling there.

  Sea-spiders reached the edge of the dock and began spilling into the sea. Leaning over the railing, I caught Lirios’s wrists, avoiding his flailing blade with an effort. His feet found the rungs, and I helped him aboard.

  Kooie let out an ear-piercing whistle and the ship leapt forward like a bee-stung horse, sending Lirios tumbling to the deck, the sword he yet clutched nearly severing one of Kooie’s tendrils. Kooie grimaced, drawing his tendrils tight to his head.

  I looked back over the stern.

  Fast though the children of Miasmus might be, they were no match for the sea-wyrms in open water. Distance opened between us and the black tide that trailed in our wake.

  We were safe, for now.

  But I shuddered to think of the carnage behind us. Miasmus was rising. It was no longer an abstract possibility, but a reality. Hundreds of innocent lives would be lost today, perhaps thousands; and this was only the beginning. I felt an emotion as unfamiliar and unwelcome as jealousy.

  It was fear.

  FORTY-FIVE

  “We need to talk.” Jahno’s tone was grim.

  We had gathered in the shadow of the charthouse where Zariya was resting, eyes closed and back propped against the wall, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

  “She needs time to recover,” I said pointedly.

  Lirios knelt beside her. “Is that what you need, my queen?” he inquired anxiously. “I am here to serve you.”

  Zariya cracked open one eye and gave me a wry look. I tugged the mayfly to his feet. “Give her room to breathe.”

  Essee gave an apologetic click and whistled, her fingers signing.

  “Yah, she’s right,” Jahno agreed. “There’s no time to rest just yet. Miasmus has awakened, and we need to plan our actions and chart a course based on what the Oracle told each of us.”

  “You will not like what I have to report,” Zariya murmured. “It is a rather terrifying piece of counsel.”

  He sat cross-legged opposite her and fetched out his leather journal. “Tell me.”

  Allowing her eyelids to drift closed again, she quoted Kephalos the Wise. “‘Your childhood illness has impaired the flow of energy that would allow you to channel the sun-fire of the rhamanthus. You must seek healing among those who dwell amidst a thousand forms of death.’”

  Tarrok sucked in a sharp breath, turning pale. “Papa-ka-hondras?”

  “So I fear,” Zariya said. “I can think of no other place that fits the description.”

  Jahno glanced around. “Who else received counsel that might affect the course of our journey?”

  Heads shook. “The Oracle had no counsel for me,” I admitted.

  Essee spoke, signing, It had no words I welcome. Somehow I suspected that the Oracle’s simple “No” was in response to her question, and I wondered what that question had been.

  “The Oracle told me to remember that a way is not always a door.” Evene glanced in my direction. “Which I completely failed to do. It wasn’t exactly the answer to the question, ‘What the hell am I doing here?’”

  “But was it not the exact answer you needed?” Zariya pushed herself to a more upright position, a measure of color returning to her cheeks. “You were splendid. We owe you all our lives.”

  Evene raised her brows at Zariya. “Are you jesting? I froze in terror. If Khai hadn’t prompted me, we’d have been spider-bait.”

  “Yes, but he did, and you were splendid.” Zariya glanced at Kooie. “What did you say the other day? ‘Together we are strong and courageous and compassionate.’ Truer words were never spoken.” She paused a moment to catch her breath, one hand signing thanks for our patience. “Today several of you saved all of our lives, and you were all splendid, my newfound brothers and sisters. But our task has only just begun, and though all that lies beneath the starless skies is at stake, others pay the price for the continuation of our quest. So, pray tell, who else among us received counsel from Kephalos the Wise?”

  Kooie had received none.

  Lirios, to my surprise, pointed at me. “I asked the Oracle how I was meant to serve my queen if not in the customary manner of the men of my people. It told me to follow her companion’s lead.”

  “I cut to the quick of the matter and asked how we might destroy Miasmus,” Tarrok said bluntly. “For what it’s worth, the Oracle said the answer lies in the words of the Scattered Prophecy. I’d certainly rather it had just told me.”

  “Because it doesn’t know the answer,” Jahno said, tugging absently at his right earlobe. “Not even the Oracle. None of the children of heaven possess the whole of the prophecy. Their father Zar the Sun’s words shattered and fell upon their ears in scattered pieces as they fell from the heavens. No one knows more than a part; no one can see the whole of it.”

  “You know this to be true
?” Zariya asked him.

  He lowered his silvery gaze. “It is a theory.”

  “It’s a worthy one,” she said. “What did you ask the Oracle and what counsel was offered?”

  Jahno hesitated. “I asked where I might find the key piece missing from the Scattered Prophecy.” He inclined his head toward Tarrok. “Which I believe is the answer to the question of how the defenders of the four quarters are meant to put an end to Miasmus, my brother Thunderclap.”

  My friend Keeik, denied by circumstance the chance to seek the Oracle’s counsel, whistled and signed impatiently, Where is it?

  “If I had to guess, I’d say the Tukkani have it in their possession,” Jahno said. “Kephalos the Wise said, ‘That which you seek lies in the possession of those whose lifeblood is trade, and value the worth of a thing more than the thing itself.’ No one comes close to the Tukkani when it comes to trading.” He frowned. “But where would they have come across a piece of the Scattered Prophecy no one else possessed?”

  “From their god, surely?” Zariya offered. “Was there not something in the fragments you recovered regarding Galdano the Shrewd?”

  “Yah.” Jahno tugged his earlobe again. “‘When one way is closed, an acolyte of Galdano the Shrewd will point to another.’ There was nothing in the Tukkani prophecy about destroying Miasmus.” Kooie whistled an inquiry too lengthy for his vocabulary of hand signs, and Jahno gave him a look of horror. “You think a Koronian scholar could have traded them a copy of the secret archive? No, no, that would have been unthinkable.”

  “Well, Kooie thought it,” Zariya said in a reasonable tone. “And if it were written in Koronian cryptographs, the Tukkani wouldn’t have been able to read it without a khartouka.”

  “Then it would be useless to them,” he said. “So what would be the point?”

  “Ah, but it would be of immeasurable worth to us,” she replied. “And the Oracle said they value the worth of a thing more than the thing itself. I do believe that was decreed by Galdano the Shrewd himself.” She shrugged. “My eldest half brother has a mania for collecting items of great value. I do not pretend to understand it, but I have seen it at work. For him, it would be enough to possess the item, whether it was of use to him or not.”