Alixa ran her hand through her hair. She didn’t desire power anyhow, much less to seize it by force. Yet the idea that her people—her people—were at odds, poorly led, and hopeless, gnawed at her.
“What would you advise we do?” Renn asked.
Alixa nodded to Cutchen; the question was hers as well.
“I’m merely infantry, you take that under advisement.” He finally heaved himself up and sat on a layered limestone rock, dusting off chips of stone. “As much as it pains me, I say slip away before suspicion in our camp grows. Move in your time, nobody else’s. That’s your right.”
“I’ve been counseled to wait, twice already.”
“Then I round out the sacred Bandu witness of three. I will say this. . .” Cutchen stopped, listening, then continued in a lower voice. “When your time comes, seek Korilexx. He and Melkiana, the Southern Keeper—”
“I knew Melki,” Alixa said sadly.
“You will need Korilexx. He lives in self-imposed exile deep in the Great Peninsula, yet remains highly esteemed by our people.”
“Exile?” Emmie asked.
“He took the massacre of Kaisson hard, and personally. Queen Alixa’s death. Melkiana’s. He was charged with your safety. Seeing you would do much for him.”
Alixa rubbed her face, stuck for a reply.
“Is Alixa truly the last of Chastien’s line?” Renn filled the silence “Or are there others, perhaps, still alive?”
“The queen had a handful of relatives hidden and moved when necessary. Only Korilexx and Melkiana knew how many and where, much to the other Helm chieftains’ annoyance.” Cutchen’s eyes glinted in the moonlight as he considered Renn. “You speak as though you know something.”
“We know nothing,” Alixa said before Renn could reply. “I’ve no other family?”
“The belief—rumor and conjecture, mind you—is that those sent north and west were murdered. We sheltered a cousin, of some degree, of the queen in Durvishhelm for a time; a whirlwind of a teenage girl. Word was Korilexx moved her to Kaisson for safety. You see how that worked out.” Cutchen spread his hands with a sigh. “She’d have died in the massacre as well. I fear, Queen Alixa, you are indeed the last.”
Emmie bowed her head, hiding teary eyes, surmising the whirlwind of a girl had been her mother.
“Time’s short—four hours to camp break.” Cutchen eyed the moon. “You best be going. I as well, before I’m missed.” When he met Alixa’s gaze again, his eyes were shining. “May I live to see the day Chastien’s crown alights on your head, Queen Alixa du-Albin, and you are restored to your rightful throne.”
The hair on the back of Alixa’s neck was still raised as Cutchen bowed, then disappeared back into the rock.
They walked silently for hours, only Alixa knew where, putting distance between themselves and whatever possible consequences lay behind. They wound through twisting trenches and mazes of limestone spires. Through long, sleek canyons towering overhead and along slim walkways over ravines that dropped far below. Renn and Emmie trudged along, trying to keep pace with Alixa’s course—all lost in thought. Once the sun shone over the tops of the tall labyrinthine embankments, they settled in behind a clump of twisty-stringy bushes, chewed on a few of their remaining thistleberries, and spoke in hushed whispers.
“What do you make of all this, Lix?” Emmie’s eyes watered as she bit into a particularly under-ripe thistleberry.
“Dunno.”
“I think he’s sincere.”
“And I’m afraid he’s right,” Renn said. “He didn’t say much encouraging.”
“Except for him verifying we have a Princess Emmie in our midst.” Alixa popped a thistleberry in her mouth, squirted juice in Emmie’s direction. “Not dismal, that.”
“We don’t know that, Lix.”
“We don’t know about anything he said, but. . .” Alixa grinned a sly smile. “Three witnesses, that’s Bandu tradition.” She raised three fingers, and Renn couldn’t help but think of Kaiteen’s three fingers sliding down his scars. “Three witnesses for me to wait on bumbling into being queen. Three witnesses to who you are: Kaiteen’s hint to Renn, my memories of her, and Cutchen’s assertion of a young du-Albin dying in Kaisson. Not one’s a fact, sure. But. . .” Alixa doffed a berry at Emmie. “Cheers, cousin.”
Emmie grinned. It was the happiest thing she’d heard in days.
“Cheers.” Renn joined in. “Up until yesterday I’d have sworn you’d be relieved to wait. Not so much anymore?”
“The ceremony, the turmoil the Bandu are in.” Alixa leaned back into the dusty stone. “Makes me feel they are my people. Not just that I’m obligated; I want to help. I don’t know what to make of that.”
An indistinct sound clattered in the distance. Whether it was people or simply tumbling rocks, or even which direction it came from, they couldn’t tell. They didn’t have the luxury of lounging and chatting. They’d keep moving—north toward Kaisson, west away from the Bandu soldiers. They scurried through chasms and gullies till the sun was high overhead. Finally they reached a clearing with a workable climb to a plateau. Alixa and Emmie scaled the hillside like rock cougars. Renn, though, needing his weak left arm to push and balance, was bushed by the time he reached the peak. He crawled up slowly and plopped down next to the two girls.
“Kaisson Valley.” Emmie leaned into him, gesturing north with her chin. “Home.”
It was so well hidden, Alixa had to point out specifics before he truly saw it. Only someone intimately familiar with the labyrinth could find their way. A whole valley of settlements, of people, had been wiped out by one person’s betrayal. The girls sat sullenly, silently, taking in their slight view of what had once been home.
“There, there, and there.” Alixa’s pointer finger jabbed at three massive spire-like rock columns far to the north. “Three towers to Aveon.” Her voice cracked. “Now I see them, thirteen years too late.”
Alixa actually allowed Emmie to wrap her in a fierce hug for a few beats before shaking her off. Wiping her chalky hands on her pants, Alixa brusquely proclaimed, “I see no point in going further to Kaisson. We’re changing course. Heading east, back to the road. Find the old guy up in the peninsula.”
Alixa clambered back down the hill, effectively waving off any discussion. They wouldn’t have challenged her anyway. She was the queen.
Back in the canyon, they took the east fork exit that should lead them one step closer to the road, though it arced southeast more than Alixa remembered. For hours, as they picked their way through an endless succession of southerly winding corridors, Alixa’s scowl grew.
“What’s wrong?” Renn asked nervously as they paused in a forked canyon.
“Probably nothing, but we keep weaving south. Something’s off.”
They glanced around the canyon, hearing nothing but the wind whistling through rocks. Then a raptor’s cry echoed overhead. Alixa instinctively gazed upwards, shielding her eyes. The bird’s shadow was huge.
“Move!”
They skittered haphazardly from one canyon to the next. Finally finding shelter under an overhanging rock ceiling, Alixa allowed a rest.
“This should be taking us back,” Alixa said, holding her chest. “Why can’t I find the road?”
“Stop it, Lix. You’re scaring me.”
“We need to get out of here. Something is very wrong.”
Alixa doubled them back the way they came. But either the sun was playing tricks or east wasn’t east or. . . something was off. They soldiered on through low gullies and passes, emptying into open intersections with multiple exits, scanning for a route east, until they finally stumbled onto what they’d been seeking. With a surge of relief, they turned toward the east-facing corridor, and stopped cold. Two Aegorites leaned against the canyon wall.
LXVIII - The Tablelands Labyrinth
Alixa yanked Emmie and Renn away from the corridor. Scrambling to hide behind a squat limestone spire in the sprawling passage they were in, t
hey strained for the sound of approaching footsteps. Nothing.
“Their backs were to us.” Alixa led them behind a section of fallen and broken rocks. “Keep moving.”
They scurried down the intersection’s unguarded pass and sped through a series of canyons. Alixa wracked her brain for explanations; none of them encouraging. Finally, they hit another open split that offered a chance to break towards the road. Alixa peeked down the corridor from the rocky path they’d emerged from. Again, two soldiers leaning against the wall of the northeast fork. She silently directed Renn and Emmie behind rock formations, one at a time, out of sight of that pass. They were forced down the south canyon—again. Once they put adequate space between themselves and the soldiers, they stopped to regroup.
“What are they doing here?” Emmie asked.
“How do we get around them?” Renn was breathing hard.
“Dunno.” Alixa had no answer to either question.
Afternoon dragged into evening. They wound through the labyrinth without resting. At five successive intersections the east or north routes Alixa hoped to use were occupied. They had no choice but to take the pass left open to them. South-southwest. Always south-southwest.
Alixa stopped them again as the sun began waning, her tracker’s instincts stymied. Throats parched, stomachs rumbling, water, breath, and hope running low.
“That last pairing.” Alixa’s voice teetered. “The taller one: grey jacket, forked beard. We’ve seen them. Second or third group.”
“How is that possible?”
“They’re mirroring us.”
“How?” Renn asked. “Unless they know we’re here. Tracking us.”
The only sound was the wind whistling through the crumbling limestone.
“What do we do?” Renn ran his finger along a chalky yellow spire.
“Keep running? Stop and fight?” Emmie wiped her brow. “I don’t like either. We don’t know how many there are. And, Lix, if there’s lots?”
“Keep moving,” Alixa said resolutely. “We have to find a way around.”
They passed an intersection with soldiers again. The Aegorites were always simply present, unalert but occupying Alixa’s desired route. If they were tracking them, they didn’t seem interested in noticing them. Either it was incredible coincidence or. . . Alixa shook it off.
At last they stumbled across what Alixa had been seeking: a wide intersection with three splitting exits. She opted to take a shallow trench on the north end, hoping to twist loose. But far down that corridor four soldiers, as always, casually occupied the pass. They wheeled back into the canyon, hoping they hadn’t been spotted. Alixa spied out the east corridor. Again, soldiers. Again, southwest was their only option.
“They’re narrowing our choices,” Renn panted. “That it, Alixa? Hemming us in?”
“Yeah, Renn. I see it.”
At the next splitting intersection, north and west corridors were barred. Again, Alixa noted men she’d seen before. For the first time, she actively considered engaging them. Try to break out of their trap; east, north, whatever. Into what, or to where, she didn’t know. Alixa had been on countless hunts. She was a cold professional. Adept at stalking and cornering prey before it realized all its options had been taken. She was always the huntress. Options snuffed out one by one, now she knew what the prey felt like.
Alixa refused to accept being ‘prey.’
“We’re taking the next eastbound route. Regardless. If it’s occupied, we engage. Clear?”
Renn and Emmie replied with somber nods.
Hands on sword hilts, they passed through winding corridors filled with lurking shadows. Alixa drew her sword when they finally emerged into an open area—only to be greeted by a volley of arrows from its eastern corridor. Two arrows whizzed past, careening harmlessly off the rock wall. Then a third, that Emmie only barely dodged. Followed immediately by a fourth arrow that grazed Renn’s side. He dropped to the ground, gasping.
“Up, Renn, up!” Alixa hissed as she and Emmie helped him behind a large boulder.
“Renn!” Emmie cried. “Are you—”
“Nicked me,” Renn grunted, plastering his right hand to his abdomen. “I’m fine.”
“Lix, do we fight?” Emmie’s face was white with terror.
Renn’s hand was awash in blood as he tried to staunch the wound. He had much to learn as a fighter but made up for inexperience with tenacity. Now he would struggle to simply keep up.
Alixa shook her head grimly.
Charging the archers’ position was suicide. Retreating the way they came pointless. She hated being forced to take the corridor left open to them, but that was the only viable choice. Alixa fired two arrows in the direction of the archers, then under the brief cover that afforded, scrambled down the pass.
Minutes later, they emerged into a wide low-lipped canyon filled with boulders and squat spires. Alixa scanned the sidewalls. Steep-sloped and high, with nothing but weedy brush and shrubs to assist a climb. No exit was visible to the south or to the east. They ran to the northwest side of the canyon where the sidewalls were highest, hoping for an obscured opening there. Nothing. They scampered into a low gulley that descended into the northeast side of the canyon. No exit.
They’d hit a dead end.
From behind spires and small crests across the valley, Aegorite soldiers rose, filling the canyon. Pale with sweat, Renn pulled his right hand, stained crimson, off his sticky wound. He helped his left hand take its place then drew his sword. Emmie, huddled next to him, did likewise.
Some 100 soldiers were assembling from where they’d been stationed in the canyon, hidden from view, possibly for quite some time. Waiting. Alixa cursed. Like prey, she’d been skillfully tricked and pushed. Herded like cattle until their path ended in a dead-end ravine.
The soldiers edged into formation, each flank uniformly ordered behind an officer. As one, they closed ranks, arraying themselves around Alixa, Renn, and Emmie’s hopeless position. Access to the faint hope of escape that the sloping canyon sides offered was cut off. They were trapped low in a gulley, backed up against a sheer cliff. Another twenty soldiers—the trapping party, Alixa surmised, recognizing several—filed in through the pass. A stocky man dressed in fox pelts loped to the fore, a hungry look on his craggy face.
Alixa knew that face. She’d watched in horror, a ten-year old with hair soaked in otter oil, as she’d witnessed her first cold-blooded killing. Alixa bunched Renn and Emmie behind her.
A towering woman seemed to materialize from among the troops. Slowly, tauntingly smug, she sauntered to the front. Raven hair fell loosely around her alabaster face and her eyes sized them up contemptuously. She stopped on a hillock high above their gulley and pointed at Alixa.
“It’s you that I want.” Her voice shattered the tense silence.
Singled out, Alixa shuddered involuntarily. She locked eyes with the woman, saw depths and years of malice and shrewdness churning within. She knew who she facing; the witch-queen Haddurah, alive and radiating power, three centuries after Chastien had bested her. Legend or not, Alixa wished her great-grandmother was there.
“Finally, finally, the time for revenge is upon us.” Haddurah pulled a dark saber from its scabbard. “Time to end your troublesome line once and for all.”
“Let these two go.” Alixa surveyed the overwhelming odds. “And you can have me.”
“Lixa, no!” Renn whispered.
Alixa looked at Renn and Emmie, her countenance reeling.
“Lay your sword down and, hands on head, kneel before me.” Haddurah indicated a marshy depression on the canyon floor. “The Wolf will shackle you, docile and defeated, for your ceremony. Perhaps I’ll show the others mercy.”
“Her answer’s no!” Emmie cried before Alixa had a chance to respond. She tugged on Alixa’s sleeve. “She won’t honor anything.”
“You. . .” The witch-queen turned to Emmie. “Would you be the wretched little thing that wouldn’t drown?”
&nb
sp; “Come fight me yourself—woman to woman,” Alixa announced, extending her sword. They’d all misunderstood. She never intended to surrender. She meant to go down fighting, hoping to first get Emmie and Renn out safely, but Emmie was right. Mercy was not a part of this woman’s repertoire. Alixa would not leave her friends defenseless.
Haddurah studied Emmie, who felt as though her body and soul were being laid bare. And yet the look in her eye told Emmie this witch saw her as much more than a wretch. Emmie brandished her own sword with whatever defiance she could muster.
“You’ve cheated death once, runt, so I shan’t discard you too lightly this time.” A cruel smile crossed her face. “Bundle you back to the Mountain, perhaps? Drop you into one of the subterranean lakes, a millstone chained to your neck. See if you can swim your way out of that.” She touched her lips with her long, white fingers. “But no. . . I’ve promised the Wolf a toy to play with, haven’t I?”
Alixa pulled Renn and Emmie tighter behind her. She would not let that man get his hands on Emmie.
Emmie scanned the canyon helplessly, for what she knew not.
“One last thing before we commence.” The witch beckoned with her saber.
Polidan, Corbiern’s friend, stepped up from behind her. He had seemed so bland and unobtrusive while they were travelling together. Now, his black dots of pupils burned at them. Alixa hadn’t recognized the basin he said he was from. Because he wasn’t from the basins. He had Mountain written all over him.
“T’was a pleasure to help keep you alive.” Polidan doffed his cap. “Would’ve been a shame for you to die at the hands of animals, when your rightful destiny was to die at my good queen’s discretion.”
The possibilities stung. Had Corbiern betrayed them as well? Big Omlos, so simple and cheery? The old Winnepacan? Emmie couldn’t believe that, but it was enough to break a rift in her mind.
The Silver Claw Page 42