Starless

by Jacqueline Carey

  “What did you see, my heart?” Zariya asked me.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. Something. I’m not sure.” I was ashamed to find my voice trembling. “I think we just encountered Shambloth the Inchoate Terror.”

  FORTY-SIX

  We did not begin our journey into the interior of Papa-ka-hondras that day, but retreated to the beached ship.

  After I pried the vine loose, the flesh of my ankle swelled and burned like fire, but it subsided within the hour, as opposed to the weeks of agony that Liko of Koronis had reported. Like Vironesh, I possessed a measure of immunity to toxins. I should be grateful, I supposed, that I did not turn purple.

  Instead I was frightened, which was yet an unfamiliar state for me. I had been afraid since the children of Miasmus boiled out of the Nexus, but for the first time, I could no longer conceal it.

  Zariya sat on the beach beside me, watching Jahno and the Elehuddin use shears, awls, rope, and saplings to cut the stink-lizard’s hide and fashion crude parasols while I sharpened my yakhan with my whetstone, smoothing out minor nicks. “This is going to take all of the courage we possess, isn’t it, my darling?”

  “Yes.”

  She touched the back of my hand. “I’ve never seen you scared before. Do you wish to speak of it?”

  I shook my head. “I do not know how to speak of it, Zariya. But for all the dangers of this place, it seems to me that our own fear—or the fear that Shambloth instills in us—may be our worst enemy.”

  “Then we shall have to conquer it,” she said simply.

  I summoned a wry smile. “Just like that?”

  “No.” Zariya shivered and leaned her head against my shoulder. “I am terrified to the marrow of my bones. But we have no choice.”

  I put my arm around her. “I know. At least it seems that we’ve outrun the children of Miasmus.”

  “For now,” Zariya said. “I fear they will be seeking us.”

  “Even they might think twice about assailing Papa-ka-hondras,” I said.

  For all that I made a jest at her simple declaration, I did draw courage from our conversation. If Zariya needed me to brave, brave I would be. Honor beyond honor demanded it of me, and the fate of the world might hang in the balance. I could behave as nothing less than the warrior I was trained to be. When Jahno reported that several additional saplings were needed, I ventured back into the forest to procure them; seeing me emboldened, Lirios found a new measure of courage of his own, although he continued to look askance at me. This time our foray was uneventful.

  Our company slept that night aboard the ship, and it seemed strange to me to sleep in a hammock that did not sway with the sea’s motion, but hung still and motionless, all of us suspended from the beams of our beached ship on the quiet sands of Papa-ka-hondras while the ooalu moths flitted around us.

  In the morning, we made our plan.

  There were not enough hide parasols to outfit our entire company, and three people would have to remain with the ship. Jahno proposed a lottery, but Essee pointed out with quiet dignity that unlike the rest of us, the individual Elehuddin didn’t have a specific role in the prophecy.

  “That doesn’t make you expendable!” Zariya exclaimed in horror.

  No, but she is right, Kooie signed.

  “Yah,” Jahno said with regret. “We need the Elehuddin and the sea-wyrms, but it only takes one person to fulfill the bond of Dulumu the Deep, and it does not matter who. If we lose the Thunderclap or the Opener of Ways, there is no one to take their place.”

  So it was determined that Tarrok and Evene would stay behind, and the Elehuddin held a discussion amongst themselves and chose Tiiklit, who had a bad knee.

  We would carry with us water-skins, ooalu fruit, and strips of dried fish that the Elehuddin had spent the past weeks preparing. Each of us had a crude hide parasol for protection from the weeping bile-trees, and several of us wore ropes knotted around our waists that we might retrieve anyone unlucky enough to step into a hidden sinkhole.

  Once again, the rhamanthus were the subject of debate. It was Jahno who declared that the choice should be left to Zariya, since it was she who must learn to use them. Zariya elected to bring a handful of the seeds in a leather purse tied about her waist. The sling that I had devised for her was lashed to the two sturdy poles, which four of our company would carry over their shoulders. It would be a cumbersome way to travel, but it was the best solution anyone could find.

  “According to my great-grandfather’s records, the Papa-ka-hondrans were always accompanied by yellow-crested kingfishers,” Jahno reminded us. “Pretty violet birds with a bright yellow belly and crest, makes a call like a person laughing. So we keep our eyes and ears open for them, yah?”

  It wasn’t much to go on, but it was all we had. Out in the ocean, Eeeio and Aiiiaii gave trills of hope and encouragement. The others remaining behind accompanied us to the verge of the forest, where we said our farewells.

  “Come back safely, all of you,” Evene said, giving me a fierce and unexpected embrace. “That’s all we ask.”

  “We’ll do our best, my darling,” Zariya murmured, sinking into her sling and settling her canes across her lap as the pole-bearers hoisted the contraption onto their shoulders.

  It would be necessary for all of us to trade places and share our burdens over the course of our journey, but for now, Jahno and I took the lead, Seeker and shadow, while Essee and Lirios brought up the rear, scoring trees so that we might find our way back. Alone, I could duck and dodge between dangers; now, I must chart a course broad enough for three to walk abreast—or more rightly, for the pole-bearers with Zariya swaying in her sling between them, clutching the shaft of her parasol with her right hand. It was impossible to avoid passing beneath the bile-trees, and I was grateful for our hide shields as the caustic droplets pattered down like rain.

  At twenty paces, it felt as though the forest had swallowed us. It was a living, breathing thing that did not want us there, and I felt its warm, moist breath panting against the back of my neck.

  You should not be here …

  You do not belong here …

  Slithering vines reached for my ankles as though eager to taste my flesh a second time. I steeled my will and slashed at them with my yakhan, clearing a safe path for our company.

  Bile-trees wept.

  There were bright blue poisonous tree frogs to be avoided, swift scarlet-banded snakes that could kill with a single strike, broad-capped mushrooms that released toxic spores, and venomous spiders lurking in webs they spun across any semblance of a passage. I was grateful that we had the benefit of knowing what to look for, else we surely would have suffered casualties. The ground was soft and spongy underfoot and I tested it with every step before putting my full weight down, grateful for Brother Yarit’s long-ago tutelage in the art of walking silently, my muscles remembering the long hours of training. At one point our path was blocked by a great fallen log covered with emerald moss, and when I could find no way around it through the dense surrounding underbrush, we clambered over it, the Elehuddin pole-bearers coordinating their efforts with whistles and grunts, Zariya’s sling lurching wildly between them. Black beetles rose from the log in a whirring cloud; stinging midges assailed us.

  We kept going.

  An hour, another hour … it was difficult to say in the green murk of the forest, the sun hidden by the canopy high overhead. There was no time here, only day and night; and I dreaded the prospect of night. I did not hear or see any sign of Shambloth the Inchoate Terror, but the mere possibility of it, coupled with the constant need for vigilance, kept me on edge.

  Beside me, Jahno kept half an eye on the canopy, searching for signs of a yellow-crested kingfisher, and I suppose it was no surprise that he encountered the first hidden sinkhole.

  It happened in the blink of an eye; one moment he was walking beside me, in the next, he was waist-deep and sinking fast, mouth agape in shock, casting a terrified gaze up at me.

 
I dropped my blade and my hide parasol, whipping the rope around my waist free and tossing one end to him. “Hold fast!”

  Above us, leaves trembled and droplets fell.

  I hunched my shoulders and braced myself for the scalding bile; but no, Lirios was there, impossibly quick, hurtling past the pole-bearers to hold his own parasol aloft and shield the both of us. I hauled Jahno free of the sucking mud, drops of weeping bile blistering his flesh.

  The Koronian grimaced. “My thanks, shadow.”

  There were nearly a dozen leeches attached to his legs, their bodies already growing swollen with blood. One by one, I pried them off. At least the leeches weren’t poisonous, but I wished we had soap with which to wash the seeping bites.

  We traded places on the poles and persevered, our progress slowing further as Kooie struggled to wield my yakhan effectively, his forearms getting ensnared in the stinging vines in the process. At length we were forced to acknowledge that it was for the best if I remained in the lead position and that Lirios, with his speed, was best suited at the rear where he could see and react to any threat.

  By the time Jahno called a halt at midday—or our best guess at midday—our company was in poor shape. Kooie was miserable, his arms in agony. We were bitten, stung, blistered, scratched, and scraped, exhausted and dispirited, and it had only been half a day. At least I had succeeded in finding a small glade surrounded by towering palm trees that thus far appeared harmless, so we might set aside our hide shields to eat and drink.

  “Seeker, I do not mean to intrude upon your role,” Lirios said apologetically. “But if the Papa-ka-hondrans found your great-grandfather’s company, might we not simply wait for them to find ours?”

  The Elehuddin exchanged glances and said nothing.

  Jahno took a deep breath, rubbing dried mud from his calves. “It is a fair question, mayfly, and I am not confident of my answer. I know only that the Seeker’s job is to seek.”

  I drank from my water-skin. “Lirios and I might scout ahead,” I offered, though the notion of being parted from Zariya in this place filled me with dread.

  “No.” Zariya was drawn and short of breath, but her face was set with a look of stubborn determination. “The Oracle of the Nexus was clear. Anyone who wishes to wait or turn back may do so, but I will persevere if I have to hobble every step of the way on my own two feet.”

  Essee opened her mouth to reply, and at that moment, something violet and yellow flashed through the air beneath the canopy.

  “Ha-ha!” A yellow-crested bird perched on a palm frond high above us, bobbing its head. “Hahaha-ha-ha!”

  Jahno leapt to his feet. “It’s a kingfisher!”

  Hope infused us with fresh energy. Gathering our things, we set out in pursuit of the bright flitting figure.

  Alas, hope also made us careless. Keeik was walking point alongside me when we came upon a bog. The kingfisher soared across it, darting low to snatch up a small fish with its long red beak. Intent on charting a course around the bog, I didn’t notice Keeik skirting too close to the edge, shading his eyes to keep the kingfisher in sight.

  I do not know what to call the grey-green creature that lunged out of the depths of the muddy bronze water, immense jaws agape to reveal a double row of jagged teeth, only that it snatched up Keeik as deftly as the kingfisher caught the minnow, dragging him beneath the water.

  With a furious shout, I plunged after it, knee-deep in muck and sinking, slashing wildly with my blade where I thought the creature’s body ought to be, but it had vanished as quickly and thoroughly as it had struck. Behind me there was more shouting, and hands tugging at the back of my tunic.

  “Khai, no!” It was Zariya’s voice that reached me, fraught with fear and anguish. “It’s too late, my darling!”

  I let Lirios haul me to solid ground; mercifully for the both of us, we weren’t under weeping bile-trees.

  The bronze waters of the bog returned to stillness.

  Zariya was lying sprawled on the forest floor; Kooie and Essee had dropped their poles. The Elehuddin keened in grief, a high-pitched whistle I had never heard before. Jahno covered his face with his hands.

  I grieved with them, my throat too tight to swallow.

  Somewhere to the right of us, something enormous rustled in the undergrowth and let out a deep cough and a low roar, and I felt a creeping terror in my bowels.

  The kingfisher chortled.

  I hated this place.

  Using her canes, Zariya struggled to her feet, her eyes ablaze. “Is that you, Shambloth?” she cried. “Shall we speak of terror? Miasmus is awake! The Abyss that Abides is rising, and it will swallow the world in darkness! Is that not worth the price of aiding us?”

  There was no reply.

  “Come,” Jahno said wearily. “Let us continue while the light lasts, and seek a place to make camp for the night.”

  Step by torturous step, we persevered, following the darting kingfisher. Zar the Sun was sinking low in the west, filling the forest with slanting golden light, when we came upon a second palm glade filled with enormous butterflies feeding on the orchid flowers that grew on the trunks of the palms, their gold and black wings as wide across as the length of my arm. By all the fallen stars, I thought it a happy omen.

  “All right,” I said, lowering my blade beneath the green-gold shadow of a palm tree. “We’ll make camp here.”

  Something fell upon me from above.

  It was thick and damp and heavy, knocking me to the floor of the forest. I felt bristles pierce the back of my neck, injecting my flesh with poison. Once again, there was a great deal of shouting. The heavy thing was wrestled from me, but my entire body had seized and I was unable to draw breath. Someone rolled me onto my back. On the ground beside me, an enormous green caterpillar writhed, its body bloated and segmented, bristles waving in the air.

  “Khai!” Jahno’s face swam in my vision, silvery eyes wide with fear. He slapped me. “Khai! Breathe!”

  My lungs strained in vain, my heart thudding in my chest like a trapped animal. Spreading darkness began to blur the sight of Jahno’s features.

  “… paralysis…”

  “… can’t breathe he’ll die!”

  It would pass; it had to pass. I had been stung by serpent and scorpion, and I bore the marks of Pahrkun the Scouring Wind etched on my cheekbones to prove it; I was not going to be killed by a gods-bedamned caterpillar.

  And then Zariya was there, her hands cupping my face. “Don’t you leave me, Khai! Don’t you dare leave me!”

  I willed my mind to stillness, seeking a path between one thing and another. My racing heart slowed. My fingers twitched and the poison’s iron grip on my lungs eased a measure. I drew a slow, careful breath, sipping the air like it was the finest wine; one sip, then another and another, until the darkness retreated.

  Lirios ran the caterpillar through with his blade, flinging it some distance away. Zariya helped me sit upright. “You mustn’t terrify me like that, my darling,” she said somberly. “We’ve already suffered a grievous loss.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” I croaked. “Everyone. Out from under the trees. Now.”

  There was no truly getting out from under the trees in that place, but we gathered in the center of the glade where the canopy was thinnest and no green sacs of caterpillars were visible overhead. It was a piece of luck—the only one in a grim day—that no one else had been attacked. After what had transpired, none of us would have chosen to make camp there, but the light was fading fast. I left the cautious work of collecting firewood and dried palm fronds to the others, still regaining my strength. Bit by bit, the last of the paralysis left my body.

  We made a small campfire, sitting around it in a circle, and it seemed a woefully inadequate thing in the face of the blackness that descended with nightfall. The butterflies took to the trees. The kingfisher we had been following had long since vanished. If one of the moons was overhead, it was invisible beneath the canopy. The benighted forest began t
o whisper and stir in a different way, filled with slithering sounds and a sense of terrible menace, as though something unspeakably vast hunted us.

  Shambloth.

  Fear crept into the marrow of my bones. Every fiber of my being told me to run, to flee from this place where I was unwelcome, and I could see the same urge reflected in the fire-lit eyes of my companions.

  Flee.

  But if we fled, the forest could surely claim us; Liko of Koronis had lost several members of his party that way.

  Unexpectedly, Essee gave an imperative whistle and extended both arms, gesturing for all of our circle to clasp hands around our inadequate campfire. We did so, each of us drawing a measure of reassurance from the contact. Looking each of us in the eye, she spoke at length, a tremor in her voice. “The enemy of fear is not courage,” Jahno translated for her. “The enemy of fear is love, for it is in loving others that we set aside our own personal fears, holding their safety and well-being as our highest regard. Tonight I am afraid, but I take heart from the love I bear for each of you, and for our beloved brother Keeik, whose sacrifice we grieve and honor. For your sakes, I abide. For you, I endure. And when I bear this in mind, this baseless fear loses its power over me. Remember this.”

  Humbled, I bowed my head to her.

  “We had great need of that reminder,” Zariya murmured, squeezing my hand hard. “Thank you, Essee.”

  It was a long and dreadful night, and I am not sure our company could have endured it unbroken were it not for Essee’s admonition. We took turns keeping watch and tending to the fire, the others grasping at fitful sleep. The sounds of the forest around us were unrelenting.

  At times it was the slithering sound, a great heavy rasping accompanied by the cracking of trees, sss-sss-sss-kraak. My mind conjured images of a giant serpent circling the perimeter of the glade. At other times it was the sound of something impossibly immense padding through the forest, twigs snapping beneath its weight; the panting breath, the hoarse cough, and the guttural roar.

  You should not be here …