“No,” he whispered. “I know what I saw. I know what I see, even if he does not! And it’s more real than real.”
“What are you babbling about, cat?”
Eanrin licked his lips. “I’ve been down that way,” he said. “It’s . . . it’s a dead end.”
Glomar grunted. “I trust my nose.”
“In that case, tell it to sniff this.” Eanrin lifted the lantern right up to Glomar’s face.
“What are you doing, cat?”
“Please, stand a moment and smell!”
Glomar had never heard Eanrin’s voice so urgent. It was enough to shock him into momentary obedience. He stood where he was, inhaling deeply, though he did not know what he was supposed to smell. The light of Asha fell upon his rough features, washing away the golden man of Rudiobus into the truth of the badger underneath. Eanrin, however, saw no understanding in his face. No sudden revelation of the wonder that gleamed so brightly just before his eyes.
Suddenly the guard snorted. “What is that?” he said.
“What is what?”
“I do smell some . . .” Here he gave a glad, wordless cry. “Come on, cat!” he said, turning, taking Eanrin’s arm, and running up the inclined path. “I smell it now! Fresh air, this way!”
It wasn’t at all what Eanrin had expected. But as long as the badger-man hastened in the direction Asha was indicating, he supposed they couldn’t get into too much trouble, at least, no worse than they were already in. He hastened after his rival, watching how the lantern lit the Path one step ahead of Glomar’s scurrying feet. Only a single step, but it was enough.
Eanrin wondered how long he had been so guided without knowing it.
“How did you end up here, cat?” Glomar asked after they had progressed some moments. “Did you fall for the vision too?”
“What vision, Glomar?”
The captain growled. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” He was silent several paces. Then, “Seriously, though, how did you end up in this tomb?”
“Tomb?”
“Yes, tomb. Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?”
“Gah! I should never expect a straight answer from you, should I?”
“Lumé’s crown, Glomar,” Eanrin cried, tempted to kick the captain’s heels, “I wish I had some idea what you were going on about! By the Flowing Gold itself, I know of no tomb, nor visions. I fell into a pit, a nasty, dark, and stinking pit. And what with one thing and another”—there was little use, he decided, in trying to explain the Dark Water or, still less, the Hound—“I ended up here. With you, more’s the pity. But I know nothing of any tomb.”
“Must be the city playing its tricks again,” Glomar said with a shrug and continued along his stumping way. “It’s getting stronger, I shouldn’t wonder, the longer Hri Sora is awake. They’re feeding off each other. I can smell it. Here in the dark places I sense what I couldn’t up there under the red sky. Hri Sora is getting stronger.”
Eanrin frowned, surprised at the captain’s words. He had felt no such sensations himself. But then, his adventure had obviously led him an entirely different route than Glomar’s, and his senses had been distracted.
“What tomb are we in?” he asked the badger-man.
“Hers,” Glomar said, his voice sinking to a low growl. “Or at least, hers before she became her. Before she took the fire. This is the tomb for the last Queen of Etalpalli, and her name has been melted away from above the door.”
Eanrin shuddered. “Hri Sora is the last Queen of Etalpalli,” he said.
“Hri Sora is its mistress,” said Glomar. “But she is not queen.”
Were they, then, still in the tomb as Glomar believed? Eanrin wondered. Or were they both now in the Netherworld, still near the Dark Water? If Glomar had died in the tomb, and Eanrin in the fall, then there could be no doubt the Netherworld was their fate. Terrible thoughts for an immortal to consider, and Eanrin found his mind rejecting the notion. He focused once more upon Asha.
“Light,” said Glomar.
“What?” Eanrin looked up, wondering if the captain had suddenly perceived the lantern after all. But no. He saw beyond the glow of Asha another, more distant source. A pinprick of daylight.
The tunnel had an end. But what end? Eanrin wondered.
It didn’t matter. He and Glomar were instantly running, Asha swinging lightly in Eanrin’s hand, still guiding, though neither looked to it for guidance. The daylight seemed forever away, but they were immortal and lived without thought of Time, so forever mattered less than the need to somehow get there. How long they ran in the dark could not be measured in minutes or hours. But run they did, neither speaking, both hoping beyond hope for an end at last to this blackness.
Suddenly the pinprick was a window, then the window was a door. The two men of Rudiobus burst through from darkness to light, momentarily blinded. They cried out, whether in joy or pain, neither could guess. It was impossible to emerge from that tunnel, like a newborn bursting into the world for the first time, and not make a cry. And they fell upon the ground and lay for some while.
At last Eanrin raised his head and looked about.
Then he gasped and sat up. “Glomar!”
His companion lay beside him, still groaning, feet splayed out behind him. Eanrin grabbed him by the hair atop his head and gave a little shake. “Glomar, look around you, man! A fine mess this is.”
Glomar huffed and spluttered what might have been curses had they been coherent and pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Lumé smite me,” he growled, shaking his head. “We’re in the dragon-eaten Between.”
So they were. They lay on the banks of the River, beneath the shadows of the Wood, and both could hear the roar of Cozamaloti’s not-too-distant falls.
Eanrin leapt to his feet, then realized his hands were empty. He cast about like a lunatic, searching the banks, even stepping down close to the water. The River snarled at him, and he backed up quickly, his eyes wide and his hair bristling. The River was not one to soon forget an offense. Eanrin scrambled over slippery rocks onto a higher tuft of ground, searching.
It was no use. Asha was gone. Perhaps it had never been. Eanrin ground his teeth. Curse that Hound! Curse that Light! He was back where he’d started from and he’d . . .
“Dragon’s teeth,” he breathed. “Dragon’s teeth and tail. I left her behind.”
“Gleamdren!” Glomar cried, rallying himself and getting to his feet. He stood on the River’s edge, shaking his fists, his face red with anger. “We left her, cat! The queen’s own cousin, lost to the dragon’s clutches!”
Out of habit Eanrin fumbled for his comb, gnashing his teeth when he remembered he’d lost it. Running his fingers swiftly through his hair, he stepped down beside his rival. He spoke firmly, his face set. “We’ve got to go back for her, Glomar.”
“Right you are!” cried the captain. “I’m not leaving Etalpalli without her! I’ll not rest until Lady Gleamdrené Gormlaith is safe once again!”
“Oh. Yes.” Eanrin shook his head, frowning. “How silly of me. Her too, of course.”
8
STARFLOWER
THEY SET A GUARD around my father’s door that night. As though it were necessary! Foolish men. By myself, I might have slipped past them and vanished into the night. I could have crossed the gorge, on into the Crescent Lands and farther north, finding myself a home among people who did not know my face.
But I could not escape with Fairbird. And if I left without her, they would surely give my sister to the Beast.
Thus a guard was unnecessary that night. I sat before my father’s hearth, my sister curled up in my lap, Frostbite’s shaggy body pressed against my thigh. Where the Panther Master was, I could not guess. Perhaps trying to work some persuasion upon Wolf Tongue. That would be like persuading the giants of old to rise up from their stone sleep! Wolf Tongue had been too long in the Beast’s service to remember what mercy was. If he had ever known.
Fairbird slept. I wished I could enjoy a few hours of peace, sleeping beside my little sister as I had done since the night of her birth. But there could be no sleep for me that night. I tried to think instead. If I was to be wakeful, I wanted to be mindful, grateful for those final hours with Fairbird and my loyal dog. I wanted to store these memories for the long march I had ahead of me, on the north-facing road to Bald Mountain.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t possibly remember as I should. Even now, it fades. The play of light on Fairbird’s cheek . . . I see the glow, but do I remember how vibrant the color, how soft the contours of that little face? I don’t know. And Frostbite, growling and showing her teeth even as she slept. She sensed my fear, poor creature. How she would have protected me if she could!
Dawn came.
Had it been enough? I asked myself as light crept through the low doorway and I got to my feet and found a stake, a mallet, and a rope. Had I loved her enough? Had I treasured the moments with my sister, even when she drove me to distraction? Even though she had been the cause of my outcast state? Oh, Fairbird! I know your true name! I cannot remember when I learned it. Perhaps I always knew without realizing what I knew. Your secret is mine, my darling, treasured in my heart! And I would die a thousand deaths for your sake. You are my strength . . . and my downfall.
Frostbite woke at my movements in the house. She gathered her gangly legs under her and got to her feet, shaking away sleep and following me to the door of the Eldest’s House. The guards stood before the door, and I saw no pity in their eyes. I hesitated. I could not begin to guess at the consequences if they did not let me complete this final errand.
I took a step. The older of the two planted his spear before my feet. He did not have to speak. I read the warning in his face.
“Let her pass.”
My father’s voice drew my gaze. To my surprise, I saw that he sat some little way off, his panther skin drawn about his shoulders. He did not look at me or even at the guards. How had he known I stood there?
“Let her pass,” he said. “She must secure the dog.”
My guards exchanged looks. But the Eldest had spoken, and Wolf Tongue was not there to contradict. Unwillingly, the older man stepped back, withdrawing his spear. Moving slowly, so as not to seem frightened or harried, I passed between them, around the house, and down the southern side of the hill. Frostbite padded after me, her head low.
I selected a place where the earth was hard and where shade from the mango grove cast relief from the heat. It would require some effort to drive in my stake, but once in place, it would hold. The morning was swiftly dawning and already promising to scorch. Sweat dripped down my face, but I focused all the pent-up frustration of the previous night into my task. I struck with my mallet as though I struck at the head of the Beast! I could feel the eyes of the guards above watching me at my work.
The patter of hurrying feet gave me brief warning. The next thing I knew, Fairbird’s arms were about my waist, clinging. I dropped the mallet in my surprise. With some effort, I pried open my sister’s grasp, turned around, and knelt so she could fling her arms around my neck. I held her, rocking her and stroking her head as I had done so many times before. How much of the goings-on did she understand, I wondered? She had been terrified yesterday while held in Wolf Tongue’s grasp, but did she comprehend his demands? Did she know the fate in store for me?
At last I pushed her back. “Fairbird,” I signed with shaking hands, “you must watch over Frostbite for me while I am gone.”
“Where are you going?” Her hands were so frenzied, I could scarcely read the signs, but her face asked the question with perfect clarity.
“Far away,” I replied. “Far, far away.”
“When will you come home?”
How to answer such a question? I drew her to me once more, my mind desperately searching for what to say. The guards above were shifting, their spearheads sharp against the brightening sky. I had little time.
Once more, I pushed her from me so I could use my hands. “Fairbird,” I signed, “I know your true name. I am going to our mother now, and where she is, I will have a voice as strong as any man’s! Listen for my voice, Fairbird. Listen for me calling your true name. And when you hear it, we will find each other again. I promise you!”
She did not believe me. How could she believe such wild fancies? “Don’t leave me,” she signed.
The guards would call me soon, and if I did not come when summoned, they would fetch me. I did not want Fairbird to see that. So I set her firmly aside, retrieved my mallet, and went back to driving the stake in deep. She pulled at my clothes, tears falling down her cheeks. I dared not look at her.
At last the stake was placed. I took the rope and called Frostbite to me. The poor dog had sat nearby, whining as she watched Fairbird cry. I tied the rope to her neck and secured the other end to the stake. I tested my knots. They would hold. They had to!
I turned to Fairbird again. “Watch over Frostbite. She needs you,” I signed. I turned to the dog next. “Watch over my sister. For me, dear one!” I could only hope she understood me. The dog wagged her tail, but her ears were back and her eyes sad. I patted her once. Then I turned to go.
Fairbird lunged for me, grabbing my hand and tugging for all she was worth. She nearly pulled me off my feet in her desperation. I knelt. There was no stopping my tears now. They coursed down my face unhindered. Beasts and devils eat those spying guards for seeing me cry! But I could not stop myself.
“Fairbird,” I signed at last. “Fairbird, go sit with Frostbite.”
Defiance flashed through her eyes. But then she bowed her head and did as she was told. She sat cross-legged, and Frostbite lay down to put her head in her new mistress’s lap.
I marched up the hill to where my guards waited. And I listened to Frostbite’s forlorn howls. But more painful to my ears was the awful silence of my sister.
Our journey was long. We crossed many rivers, descending the gorges, canoeing across, and climbing the other side. We passed through many hostile lands. But the warriors of those lands laid down their arms at a word from Wolf Tongue. The Beast would have his prey. And afterward . . . who could say where loyalties would lie?
Warriors headed our procession, cruelly armed but painted for sacrifice, not for battle. Behind them came three priests, all dressed in deerskin dyed red, their faces painted in black streaks, like tears, but with swirling patterns and dots. Behind these walked the elders of all the villages and lands loyal to the Eldest.
My father walked behind them, rich and powerful in his skins, his face painted red and black. He was so stern, so handsome, and silent as death.
I made the long journey with twelve other maidens. They wore black, and their feet were bare. They represented each tribe of the Land, even those not loyal to the Eldest. For even those tribes who warred against each other must pay homage to the Beast. He, their great god and greatest enemy.
When we passed through the Crescent Lands, I glimpsed Elder Darkwing and his warriors some way off, watching our progress. Darkwing wore the same collar of black feathers I had seen him don on the night of my betrothal. At that distance, he looked like some strange, dark spirit. I feared he would order an attack. Even from so far away I could feel his desire for vengeance. I wondered if Darkwing heard, as I had, the voice of Sun Eagle crying on dark nights.
But the sight of Wolf Tongue was enough to stay his bloodlust. No one liked to thwart the Beast’s favorite.
Many weeks we journeyed, for our destination was far. People of every tribe gathered in a crowd behind us, camping so near us at night that I could often discern their whispering voices above the crackle of our campfires. The Beast had ravaged many a town when he came down from the mountains to demand his dues. The people of the Land were frightened. They wanted to be certain their god was satisfied.
At long last I saw the great mountain, tallest peak in the whole range, rising on the horizon. Once upon a time, it had been called Lady Whiteha
ir, for its peak was covered in starflower vines that gleamed so bright at night that one could see the glow from great distances. It was said that mountain had once been the queen of all the giants, a great and terrible beauty.
All her beauty was gone since the fire fell from the heavens and smote that mountaintop. The blaze on Lady Whitehair was visible even as far as Redclay Village. And when it at last burnt out, all that remained was Bald Mountain. Cursed ground on which no living thing would flourish again.
It was there my fate awaited me.
At long last we began the mountain climb. I had never traveled so far north before and had certainly never been to the mountains. As we ascended those dizzying heights, I gasped in wonder at the world spread far below me. The mountains extended forever all around the Land. It was said that nothing existed beyond them. To cross over the Circle of Faces was to pass into the Void where the dead wander lost. I thought this must be true. The mountains were so high and so shrouded in clouds and mist, there could be nothing beyond them.
We spent the night before we reached the Place of the Teeth on the lower slopes of Bald Mountain. How evil was the ground beneath me! I smelled poison of bygone years, the poison of hatred beyond all bearing. No wonder it was here that the Beast demanded his gifts be brought. The dead mountain was a fitting site.
Our followers on this pilgrimage had increased so much by this time that the whole slope of Bald Mountain was alight with campfires. It was as though the dragon had fallen to burn the mountain a second time. All were afraid to sleep in darkness here, where the Beast dwelled, never seen but ever present.
But Wolf Tongue was with us as well, and he stood watch throughout the night. I could see him from where I lay among the twelve silent maidens with whom I traveled. I saw how our campfires reflected in his yellow eyes. His face never turned, but those eyes darted here and there, observing the night. How I feared that gaze would fall upon me!