With a curse, I leaped up onto the back of the nearest horse and draped the unconscious form of the child over the pommel.
“Thank God!” Nessa cried, but even now warriors might be running to lower the portcullis in order to prevent our escape from the courtyard. I pointed toward the gateway and urged my horse across the wet flags toward it. Nessa struggled to push her still-sobbing sister up onto one horse, then quickly mounted the other. Within moments, we were through the open gate and galloping down the cinder path into the whirling snowflakes.
For a while we rode in silence, save for Susan’s infernal sobs, while I thought over the consequences of what I’d just done.
“Why are we heading north?” Nessa called out at last.
I did not bother to reply. Heading north was the only chance of life I had. And it was a slim chance at that. I had just two remaining options. The first was to become a fugitive, fleeing my enemies for as long as I was able. The other was to journey straight to the source of the danger and confront it—to head for Valkarky.
CHAPTER IX
NORTH TO VALKARKY
I guided us north, toward the best chance of survival that remained. In two hours we reached the ruins of a farmhouse. It was very old and had been overrun when the climate had changed more than two millennia earlier. At that time my people had pushed their boundaries farther south, meeting little opposition from the small, weak kingdoms of divided humans.
Now all that remained of it was two stark stone walls in the lee of a steep hillside. As I approached the ruin, I sensed something, an unseen malevolence. I halted, prompting Nessa to ask, “Why do we stop? We must get inside!” But I ignored her and raised my tail to search for the source of my unease. As I did so, a shower of small stones began to fall onto my shoulders and head.
In a moment I had found it. It was a bychon, a spirit able to manipulate matter. Some were very dangerous and could hurl large boulders with great accuracy to crush a victim, but this one seemed relatively weak. I nudged it with my mind, and it retreated to a dark corner. Then I whispered to it so that the purrai behind could not hear my words. “Soon we will be gone from here and then you may reclaim this place as your home. Do not behave in a way that will force me to drive you out permanently. Be still and keep hidden. Do you accept my offer?”
No more pebbles fell around me, so I took the bychon’s silence as acceptance of my offer. I immediately made good use of the old wood that lay scattered about the site. First I constructed a lean-to to provide some shelter against the blizzard. Some of the remaining wood I ignited by force of will—a fire to provide life-giving warmth.
In their sensible purrai clothes, the two older girls were quite well protected, but when I had snatched the child, she’d been readied for the blade and was almost naked. My use of boska had placed her in a deep coma, but it was dangerous to keep her in that condition too long. Thus I was forced to awaken her, whereupon she immediately began to shiver and cry weakly, and I knew that she lacked the strength to survive for long.
I am comfortable even in the coldest of temperatures, so I could manage without my long black coat. However, it was not for warmth that I wore this garment; it was a mark of my vocation and status as a haizda mage, its thirteen buttons representing the thirteen truths that it has taken me many years of study to learn. I was reluctant to remove it, but I knew that the child would soon die without its protective warmth, and I felt bound by my trade with Old Rowler. So I took it off and wrapped her in it, handing her to Nessa, who then crouched with her close to the fire, whispering softly to her in reassurance.
“Little Nessa,” I asked gently, “where are our saddlebags? Where is the food that will keep us alive?”
Nessa hung her head. “I was afraid,” she said. “We just took the first horses we saw. I could hear Kobalos voices at the far end of the stables. Then those fierce women interrupted us—I threatened them with the blade and cut one, but they kept creeping closer. My sister was weeping with fear. I thought I acted in our best interests.”
I could see that she was troubled by her actions. “Then I will do what I can,” I said. “Do you still have my blade?”
Nessa nodded and withdrew it from beneath her cape, handing it to me handle foremost. I accepted it with the hint of a smile and readied myself for what had to be done.
I removed my boots and, wearing just the thin diagonal belt with the scabbards securing the two short blades, trudged up the hill into the teeth of the blizzard. In truth, I enjoyed the conditions; for a Kobalos, such a storm was exhilarating.
Soon I reached a large plateau, an area of high moorland, and there dropped to all fours and began to run swiftly with my tail arched high above my back, seeking for likely prey.
Little moved in that blizzard. Dimly, I sensed arctic foxes and rodents and a few hardy birds, but all were too distant. It was then that I came upon the wolves.
It was a large pack, heading south with the storm wind. They would have passed by me at least three leagues to the west, but I exerted my will and summoned them; they hurried toward me, scenting easy prey. To give them more encouragement, I turned and began to flee before them, loping easily across the snow.
Only when they were almost upon me did I increase my speed. Faster and faster I ran, until only the leader of the pack, a huge white wolf—sleek, heavily muscled, and in its prime—could keep me in sight. Together we drew away from the remainder, who, without their leader, soon tired of the chase and were left far behind, wandering aimlessly, howling up at the invisible moon.
When the wolf was almost upon me, I turned to meet it. We both charged, fur against fur, teeth snarling, to roll over and over in the deep snow, gripping each other in a death lock. The wolf bit deep into my shoulder, but to me the pain was nothing; with my own teeth, I savaged its throat, tearing away the flesh so that its blood spurted forth bright red upon the white snow.
I drank deeply while the huge animal twitched beneath me in its death throes. Not a drop of the hot, sweet, thick blood did I waste. When my thirst was sated, I drew a blade and cut off the beast’s head, tail, and legs and, walking upright, carried its body across my shoulders, back to the ruin of the farmhouse.
Close to the fire, while the girls watched with wide eyes, I skinned and gutted the wolf, then cut it into small pieces and buried them in the hot embers to cook.
All three sisters ate their fill that night, and only Susan complained, whimpering as she struggled to chew the half-burned, half-cooked meat. But she was quickly silenced by Nessa, who understood that I had given them the hope of life.
Just before dawn I fed the fire with wood, and as I did so, Nessa awoke. She came to sit opposite me so that our eyes locked across the flames. Strangely, she didn’t seem quite so skinny tonight. Her neck was particularly inviting, and my mouth watered so that I was forced to swallow.
“I don’t like it here,” she said. “I keep getting a sense that something is watching us. I heard a noise, too, like a small shower of falling stones. It could be a dangerous boggart. Perhaps this is its lair.”
“What is a boggart?” I demanded, filled with curiosity.
“It’s a malevolent spirit. Some throw rocks or even big boulders. They are dangerous and can kill people.”
“How would you deal with such an entity?” I demanded.
“I wouldn’t even try,” Nessa said. “But far to the south, across the sea, it is rumored that there are spooks—men who are capable of dealing with such things.”
From what she described, it was likely that boggart was the human term for bychon. But in all my years of learning, I had never heard of their spooks. I wondered what kind of magic they used.
“Well, worry not, little Nessa—a spook is not needed here. In dark places, there are often invisible things that linger and watch. But you are safe with me.”
“How much longer before we can travel on?” she asked. “And why are we going north?”
“Perhaps we’ll be able to leave at d
awn tomorrow, or by the afternoon at the latest,” I answered. “But without grain, the horses won’t get far. There is oscher in the small sacks, which will give them strength for a little while—before it kills them. You’ll be eating horseflesh before the week is out. It’s easier to chew than wolf, so perhaps your sister will not complain so much. Eventually, in order to survive, we might have to eat one of your two sisters. Susan would be best because she’s bigger, with more meat on her bones.”
Nessa gasped. “How can you even think such a horrible thing?”
“Because it is better for one to die so that the others may live. It is the way of the Kobalos world, so you might as well get used to it, little Nessa.”
“What about your promise?” she exclaimed. “You agreed to take my sisters to safety.”
“I did, and I will strive with all the powers at my command to keep to my trade with your poor father.”
Nessa was silent for a moment, but then she stared right into my eyes. “If it proves necessary, eat me rather than one of my sisters.”
Once again I found myself surprised by her bravery—but “I will be unable to oblige,” I told her. “You see, only you belong to me, and I would not waste my own chattel. Anyway, let us talk more of such things if the need arises. It’ll be a long journey north. And I will now tell you why we are heading in that direction. We are going to Valkarky, where I must plead my case—it is the only hope of life I have. To save your little sisters I killed a high mage and an assassin whose brotherhood will seek vengeance and hunt me down until I am dead. But those I slayed broke the law regarding my property rights. If I can successfully make my plea before the ruling triumvirate, they will not be able to touch me.”
“What is Valkarky—another fortress?”
“No, Nessa, it is a city. Our city! It is the most beautiful and most dangerous place in this whole wide world,” I answered. “Even a human such as you, with poor, half-blind eyes, cannot fail to appreciate its beauty. But never fear, I will protect you from its many dangers.”
“It would be better to die here,” Nessa said bitterly, “than enter a city full of others like you.”
“Die? Die, little Nessa? Who said anything about dying? You gave me back my life, and in return I’ll protect you and your two plump sisters, just as I promised. Only in extremis will we eat one of them, and then only so that the other might live. I have made a promise, but I can only do what is possible. If only you had gotten the horses with their provisions, as I commanded!”
A look of embarrassment flashed across Nessa’s face, but she was silent, evidently deep in thought. “But you’ll still take them to safety when your business is done?”
I smiled but refrained from showing my teeth. “Of course. Haven’t I promised as much? Now go back to sleep. What else is there for your kind to do but sleep when it snows so hard?”
“My father said that you also sleep in the depths of winter. He said that you hibernate. Why do you do that when you love the cold so much?”
I shrugged. “A haizda mage sleeps in shudru, deepest winter, in order to learn. It is a time when he gathers his thoughts within deep dreams and weaves new knowledge out of experience. We dream to see the truth at the heart of life.”
Nessa turned away and looked back to where her sisters were sleeping. Bryony was still tightly wrapped within my coat; only her mousy brown hair was visible.
“What is Valkarky like?” Nessa asked, turning back to face me.
“It is vast,” I explained. “We believe that our city will not stop growing until it covers the whole world. Not a rock, not a tree, not even a blade of grass will be visible then. All other cities will be crushed beneath its expanding walls!”
“That’s horrible!” she cried. “It’s unnatural. You would make the whole world hideous.”
“You do not understand, little Nessa, so do not judge until you have seen it with your own eyes.”
“But it’s nonsense, anyway. How could a city become so large? There could not be enough builders to create such a monstrosity.”
“Valkarky’s walls are constantly being constructed and repaired by creatures that need no sleep. They spit soft stone from their mouths, and this is used as building material. It resembles wood pulp at first, but hardens soon after contact with the air. Hence the name Valkarky—it means the City of the Petrified Tree. It is a wonderful place, full of entities created by magic—beings that can be seen in no other place. Be grateful that you will get to see it. All other humans who enter there are slaves or marked for death. You have some hope of leaving it.”
“You forget that I also am a slave,” Nessa replied angrily.
“Of course you are, little Nessa. But in exchange for your bondage, your two sisters will go free. Doesn’t that make you happy?”
“I owe obedience to my father, and I am willing to sacrifice my life so that my sisters will be safe. But it certainly does not make me happy. I was looking forward to my life, and now it has been taken away. Should I rejoice at that?”
I did not reply. Nessa’s future, or lack of it, was not worth debating. I had not told her just how bad things were. The odds against me were indeed great, and I would probably be taken and killed, either on the journey or immediately upon entering the city. It was unlikely that I would live long enough to make a successful plea to the ruling council. If I died, the three girls would become slaves at best; at worst, they would be drained of blood and eaten.
After that Nessa became very quiet; she went off to sleep without even wishing me a good night. Humans such as Nessa often lack manners, so I wasn’t really surprised.
CHAPTER X
THE HYB WARRIOR
ABOUT an hour after dawn, the wind dropped and the blizzard became just a light whirling of snowflakes falling lazily out of the gray dome of the sky.
“I need my coat back, little Nessa,” I told her. “You will have to share what you have with your youngest sister.”
Sooner or later I would have to fight, and I wanted to be wearing the long black coat, my badge of office, so that any enemy would appreciate the strength of what he faced. I noted that it was Nessa who surrendered some of her garments to clothe the child, including her waterproof cape. They were far too big but would provide the necessary protection against the elements. Nessa would now find the conditions more difficult. I noted that Susan did not volunteer any of her garments.
As was my custom, before mounting my horse I stood in front of it and breathed quickly into its nostrils three times.
“What are you doing?” Nessa asked, her face alive with curiosity. She had obviously wisely decided not to fight against my wishes.
“I am using what we mages call boska. I have changed the composition of the air within my lungs before breathing into the horse’s nostrils. I have thus infused the animal with obedience and courage. Now, if I have to fight, my mount will not flinch from the enemy that faces us!”
“Will you have to fight? Does danger threaten?” she asked.
“Yes, little Nessa, it is very likely. So now we must press on and hope for the best.”
“How much farther have we to travel? Each day seems the same. I’m losing track of time—it seems like weeks have passed already.”
“This is merely our fifth morning. It is better not to think about the rest of the journey. Just take each day as it comes.”
We left the old farmhouse behind. Soon we came to a rocky, barren area where the snow had melted. Steam rose from cracks in the ground, and from time to time the earth trembled and there was a smell of burning on the breeze.
“What’s this place?” Nessa asked, riding up alongside me.
“It is the Fittzanda Fissure, an area of earthquakes and instability. This is the southern boundary of our territories. Soon we will be in the land of my people.”
We continued north across that steaming, shaking terrain, our horses even more nervous than the three purrai. The area was vast, and its shifting, rocky nature would make us
difficult to track. Those who pursued us from the fortress would expect me to flee south, not north to what might well be my execution, so that was to my advantage.
And soon others would be hunting us too. The dying thoughts of the assassin would have been sent out to his brotherhood. They would know who had slain him. Some would already be out there in the snowy wilderness or even close by, and they would sense my location and begin to converge on our path. The Triumvirate of High Mages might also send further assassins from Valkarky.
Out here they would try to kill me on sight. I needed to reach the city in one piece in order to win the right of plea before the council.
Only one thing bothered me. Did I still have the courage and ruthlessness to defeat my enemies? Or had I already been infected with skaiium, as my softness toward Nessa indicated?
It was not long before an enemy found me—but it was not the Shaiksa assassin I’d expected. The high mages had sent a very different creature.
The assassin waited directly ahead of us. At first glance it appeared to be an armed Kobalos on horseback, but there was something wrong where the rider and horse joined. It was not simply that there was no saddle. There was no division between them. I was not looking at two creatures; it was one deadly composite.
“What is that fearsome thing?” Nessa demanded with a shudder. Susan began to whimper, while Bryony shook with terror but made no sound.
“Perhaps it is our deaths,” I told her. “Stay back, and let me do what I can.”
I was facing a hyb warrior, a crossbreed of Kobalos and horse that had been designed for combat. The creature’s upper body was hairy and muscular, combining exceptional strength with speed and the ability to rip an opponent to pieces. The hands were also specially adapted for fighting. In its right, the hyb appeared to be gripping five long, thin blades, but I knew they were talons that could be retracted into the muscular hand or unsheathed at will. In its left was a mace—a huge club covered in sharp spikes like the quills of a porcupine.
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