City of Death (28 page)

“I don't know,” she confessed. “I'm sorry.”

M
ā
ka sensed Scirye's frustration. “It's all right. Just try to remember any helpful details from your vision.”

Scirye drew her eyebrows tight together as she tried to recall. “Let's see. I was in this old temple when She came.” Her eyes opened. “It was on a mountainside.”

“I read that the Archer's temple was on Mount Kemshap. It means ‘The earth is cursed' in the Old Tongue. I always thought it was given that name after the war, but maybe it dates from before that—all the way back to the Archer.” Her mother aimed her binoculars on the tallest mountain. It lay to the west of the city. “I see a ruin there. Could that be it?”

Scirye pulled the glove back on and took the binoculars from her father, directing them at the same mountain. Once she had them in focus, she saw the three giant, treelike columns from her vision, but she almost didn't recognize the rest of the temple.

Roland had nearly as many men working there as in the city. Crews were dismantling the temple stone by stone and dumping the debris by the columns. Already the ornate pillars and arches on the sides had been taken down—presumably to see if the arrows were hidden inside them.

More crews were digging around the temple grounds, using camp stoves with fire imps to warm the soil first for their shovels. Steam rose in ribbons from the damp earth, and the area looked as if a colony of giant moles had their homes there.

Scirye bit her lip when she saw the armed guardsmen on sentry duty. From the looks each group gave the other, there was little love lost between them.

“I recognize the three big columns at the rear. And right across from it was a mountain shaped like a lion.” She swung the binoculars in a slow arc until she found a lion-shaped peak. It was on the other side of the city directly opposite Mount Kemshap. “Yes, I think the temple's where She wants me to go.”

Lord Tsirauñe scanned the large, steel-gray clouds rolling in from the north. “I'd say we're in for some snow this evening. The griffin patrols will stay on the ground and the work crews will probably return to their camp. If there are any sentries, they won't be expecting trouble.”

Koko sighed. “Sure, what idiots would be out on a night like this?”

“What are we going to use to dig with?” Leech asked.

“We all have fold-up shovels as part of our camping gear,” Kat explained.

“We'd better get back out of sight before the griffin patrol spots us,” Lady Sudarshane suggested.

“I'll keep watch,” Bayang volunteered, so they left the dragon near the broken hilltop while they went down the slope to where the Pippalanta had set up camp behind some boulders.

They didn't dare start a fire, so the Pippalanta unpacked food from the saddlebags, but when Kles trotted over to her with flat bread and some cheese, Scirye shook her head. “I don't feel like eating.”

“You must eat something even if you're nervous,” Lady Sudarshane insisted.

Scirye nibbled at the bread. “What do you think the goddess has planned for me?”

Her mother touched her forehead to Scirye's lovingly. “I don't know, dear. But you can count on this: Your father and I will be there with you.”

But Scirye took small comfort from her mother's words. She was leading her parents and her friends into the deadliest of dangers on only a hunch.

 

50

Bayang

As Bayang kept watch on the hilltop, she shifted her body, trying to find a more comfortable position for her aching limbs. She found herself fighting back the fatigue that tried to claim her; she couldn't give in to it. Not only did she have to be on guard, but she had to think about her dilemma. She often had nightmares about her past victims. She couldn't live with herself if she added Leech's death to her crimes.

On the other hand, she couldn't leave Lee No Cha awake and in Leech's body, not with weapons powerful enough to kill a dragon.

She was actually surprised that Lee No Cha had not taken over yet. Was it proof that Lee No Cha was not a monster after all? Or was there another reason?

Did he feel as lonely as she once had? Was he also enjoying this new experience of having friends even if Lee No Cha could only do so indirectly?

You might not take a friend's advice but at least you listened. And you thought twice about doing anything that your friends might disapprove of.

If she could convince Lee No Cha that she was his friend too—no small task when she had been the assassin hunting him down in past lives—she might be able to stop the endless cycle of killing and carry out the ultimate goal of her mission: to end the threat to dragon-kind once and for all.

She was still wondering how to do that when the sun neared the horizon and the crews and sentries streamed back to their camp from both the Archer's Temple and the city. As she slid back down the slope to tell the others the good news, the first snowflakes began falling, the setting sun edging the flakes a blood red. They looked like little circular blades whirling about. She hoped they weren't an omen.

As day gave way to night, the snow fell heavier. It wasn't the blinding blizzard that Roland had set up as a trap for them in the Arctic Ocean, but it was like being inside a pillow stuffed with cotton. The winds had picked up, sounding even more like wailing ghosts just as M
ā
ka had sensed. But fortunately human ghosts held no terrors for a dragon and she kept slitherng on. Only able to see a few yards ahead of her, Bayang nearly missed their camp.

“The snow's falling so thick we could miss the temple altogether,” she said when she was finally sitting among them. “We might want to let the snowfall thin out a bit more so we can see better.” And perhaps she'd have a chance to talk to Leech.

Lord Tsirauñe glanced about at the white curtain engulfing them. “I agree. It might be more sensible to wait.”

M
ā
ka rose and turned as if sleepwalking, and her eyes had taken on that faraway look. “I can guide you there.” Her voice was so low that it was hard to hear her.

“This is no time for your experiments,” Tute hissed.

M
ā
ka turned to appeal to Scirye. “Trust me as I trust you. You're not only the Chosen One, but my friend. Let me keep my part of our pact.”

As Scirye looked uncertainly between Lord Tsirauñe and M
ā
ka, Lady Sudarshane warned, “This decision is not about pleasing your father or your friend. It's too important for that.”

“Are you really sure about this?” Scirye asked M
ā
ka.

“
This
is the reason why I'm here,” M
ā
ka said and took both of Scirye's hands in hers. “I was sent to be the needle for your compass.”

Friend or not and pact or not, Bayang would not have given in to the bumbling sorceress. She'd heard the stories about how M
ā
ka had sensed the Chamber of Truth and the torture room, but those could have been lucky guesses.

But after hesitating a moment longer, Scirye nodded her head to her father. “We'll let M
ā
ka lead us.”

Though Lord Tsirauñe still looked doubtful, he said, “So be it.” Then, turning on his heel, he looked at his wife. “Since M
ā
ka is your passenger, you and Kwele will take the point.”

When he had climbed into the saddle, he leaned over and held out his hand to help his daughter up. But grasping the rear part of the saddle, Scirye tried to pull herself up—only to find that she could only manage halfway, which left her with her legs dangling. No one laughed, though, as Lord Tsirauñe grabbed her belt and hoisted the “chosen of the goddess” the rest of the way up. Everyone's thoughts were on the dangerous task ahead.

Making peace with Lee No Cha would have to wait.

As Kles flew to Scirye's shoulder and coiled like a furry, fuzzy collar around her neck, Bayang hid her own frustration at not being able to talk to Leech and mounted again behind Wali. Leech rode with Oko, and Koko with Kat. Grumbling that cats were never meant to fly, Tute joined Lady Sudarshane and M
ā
ka.

The griffins had used the delay to prepare for the coming battle and had pomaded their fur into spikes so that they looked twice as fearsome now. They rose into the air with great strokes of their wings that sent the snow whirling in sheets about them. The riders had covered any bits of metal with strips of cloth to keep them from jingling. There was only the creak of leather harness and the howling of the wind.

As they flew upward, curtains of wet, cold, white beads swept one after another over them. It was all Bayang could do to breathe, let alone hold on to Oko. And she, at least, had the benefit of Pele's charm to keep her warm, but icicles were already beginning to form in her griffin's fur and the fringes of her flapping cloak.

Lord Tsirauñe had taken a position to his wife's right, but the griffins flew almost wingtip to wingtip and even then kept contact with one another more by the flapping sound of their wings than by what they could see. Nor was it easy for them to keep formation in the strong winds that kept Wali's griffin constantly fighting to stay level.

Bayang's eyes were used to the dark depths of the ocean, but as they went on, even she became disoriented in the tumbling world of snowflakes. There were only M
ā
ka's shrill shouts to guide them on.

Soon enough, the beating of the five griffins' wings deteriorated from a steady rhythm to an irregular one. An experienced flier herself, she knew it meant that the griffins were tiring.

Lord Tsirauñe sensed it too. Bayang could make out his shadowy shape leaning forward as he began stroking Árkwi. And as his gloved hand touched his griffin's fur, the icicles fringing the tips tinkled together. “On, my noble ones, my joys, my loves,” he encouraged, his words not just for Árkwi but for the others as well. The griffin master's words acted like a tonic on the griffins and they began to flap their wings with a steady rhythm once more.

After a half hour of misery, Bayang heard M
ā
ka announce, “We're here. Land now.”

And Wali's griffin like the other riders followed Kwele down.

Bayang did not see the ground, only felt the impact as the griffin landed clumsily, his legs buckling beneath him.

Bayang immediately slid from the saddle onto the snowy slope and then made a point of stepping in front of the griffin so she could bow. “I thank you. You're truly a hero among griffins.”

Wali's griffin returned the bow politely, the icicles, now covering both fur and feathers, chimed together softly. “We each have a part to play. Now do yours, Lady Dragon, and help Lady Scirye find the arrows.”

 

51

Scirye

The winds whirled around her, shrieking like people in pain, and at first, Scirye could see nothing through the swirling snow. And then in a brief moment when the wind whipped the flakes away, she saw the three columns dimly.

“Well done,” she said softly to M
ā
ka.

Ice had formed along the sorceress's eyebrows and even the tips of her eyelashes. “The magic feels stronger than ever in me.” M
ā
ka's voice was hoarse from shouting, but her delight was plain. “I feel like I'm ready to explode.”

Scirye was glad for her friend. “You've kept your part of the pact. Now it's my turn.”

But her father held up a hand. “Wait,” he said to her and then called in a low voice, “Pippalanta, to me.”

A dismounted Kat appeared at Lord Tsirauñe's side then. Behind her were Oko and Wali, also on foot. “Lord?”

Lord Tsirauñe pointed to the temple. “Take care of any sentries.”

With a nod, the Kat motioned to the other two Pippalanta, and they disappeared into the night with grim purpose.

Lord Tsirauñe motioned to Leech who was starting to get off. “Stay on the griffin just in case we have to leave in a hurry.”

For fifteen anxious minutes, Scirye's ears strained to hear any noise beside the wind, but she heard nothing.

Finally, Wali came back. “There was only one sentry, lord, and he was already asleep.” She chuckled. “So all we had to do was tie him up and gag and blindfold him. But be careful where you walk. Roland's men have dismantled the whole building and dug holes all around it.”

Her father swung one leg over the saddle and stood up. “Then it's time to get to work.” As Scirye climbed off, he was already getting a folded-up shovel from a saddlebag.

There were four more shovels in all with Wali carrying hers as well as Kat's, and the griffins would dig with their paws.

Snow lightly dusted the ground, which had already frozen, making footing slippery, and in the dark it was hard to skirt the recently dug holes and trenches, as if the mountain had been attacked by giant gophers. Each of them had fallen at least once by the time they met Kat standing by piles of stones.

It was a miracle, Scirye thought, that none of them had broken an ankle.

“This is the temple, Lady Scirye,” Kat said and looked about. “What's left of it.”

Roland's men had been thorough, removing the roof and all the walls but a few courses of stone at the rear just beyond the three columns. The stones had been dumped into piles on the sides. And all that marked the temple was its floor, which stood now like an almost empty platform.

“So where do we begin?” Leech asked.

Well?
Scirye asked the goddess, aware of everyone's eyes watching her, the Chosen One. But there was only the sound of the relentless winds.

Their task seemed hopeless—as hopeless as M
ā
ka facing the guards at the vizier's villa or guiding them through the storm, but she had succeeded. So Scirye had to try at least.