Norton, Andre - Chapbook 04 (7 page)

But
that was of little importance when compared to this thing he had found.
 
It was emitting a droning beat, broken now
and then as if each portion of sound was a word of warning or a threat.

He
could have turned in the moment and found his way out of this dead curl of
broken walls and mounds of stone.
 
The
horse and
Modic
had vanished around a turn in the
debris so that he could not be seen.

It
was not curiosity, nor any sense of responsibility toward
Modic
,
which brought him apart from the way where he had taken refuge some moments
earlier.
 
Seemingly of its own accord the
hand holding the weapon (if weapon it was) shook free from his cloak without
his willing it.
 
The colors within were
running as if he were turning the stone about in his hand.
 
It was .. .

For
a second, perhaps even less, he opened his eyes to their greatest extent.
 
The thing was moving weapon-wise at last,
though there was no enemy before him.
 
His muscles responded as they never had to any journey knife or battle
staff, thrusting and recovering with a knowledge which he knew he had never
learned in any clan drill.
 
His hand and
arm might now be possessed by ... By the dead?
 
In all the lore taught by his people there was no room for such an
idea.
 
One was born, lived, and when the
time set had come, one died.
 
Nor had the
ken any tales of the walking of the dead, troubling from those who were past
all of this world's sorrows, acts, thoughts.
 
The dead spoke not... between them and the living there was not even the
thinnest crack of a doorway.

It
was not the dead
suspicioned
so to frighten some of
the Seeker's people and be a part of the dangers of the Dry as far as they were
concerned.
 
The
Betweeners
hinted of dealing with dark powers.
 
Demons . . . some of his kin, he knew, believed that there were unseen malignant
forces at loose in ancient cities.
 
This
city . . .

Rentam
stopped short and stared unseeingly at the shard he held.
 
What of that story
Modic
had asked of him, a story long current among his own people?
 
The cloaked one from out of the desert who
had gone to the marsh pier and thereafter summoned a thing past any man's
knowing.

Rentam
, still keeping the broken sliver in his hand under a flap of clothing,
strode in the direction
Modic
and his mount had
taken. Rounding a tall heap of debris he came abruptly into the open once more.
 
There was just enough light to see a square
ahead and the facades of the buildings forming its sides had apparently
suffered less from whatever doom had erased
Lonscraft
.
 
Directly across from him was a seemingly
intact building which bore no signs of ruin at all.
 
The wide doorway was above the level of the
square so that a flight of broad steps led to its open doorway.
 
Strangest of all in this desert country,
there was a runnel which had cut its way through the steps, to a hole which
gaped at ground level.
 
Running
water?
 
No, the color was wrong.
 
Each drop of that small flood was as scarlet
as newly shed blood.
 
While above its
surface, back and forth, danced winged things which skimmed so closely to the
small flood that they might have been swallowed up, yet always they coasted to
safety beyond.

Modic
had lost hold on the broken rein, the horse backed away
ffrom
the steps and the liquid on them, showing the whites
of its eyes, foam dripping from its nostrils to slime its nose and the bony
expanse of its chest.
 
It retreated from
Modic
, from the building.

Then
it swung half around and cantered awkwardly to
Rentam's
left.
Modic
was pulling on the head-concealing mask
that he had worn when they had entered
Lonscraft
.
 
As he did so he walked as does one who bends
his body against the force of a mountain wind, taking one slow step and then
another.
 
He gestured force ably with one
arm as if to keep off an attack of flies.
 
While in his other hand was that map which now was a fire to light the
whole of the stairway.

If
that spark of light upon it had been fashioned to beckon, now surely it
proclaimed to be nearly to the goal.

The
smooth running rill was disturbed on the surface, now dimpled as if a shower
fell upon it.
 
The flies gathered in the
upper air to become a black blot, still over the water but hovering above
Modic
as he climbed.

Rentam
shivered.
 
He had known
fear before, but it had always been caused by things he understood ... of one
of the
Vort
beasts raiding the herds of the
Betweeners
... of the sickness which was supposed to strike
anyone invading the old cities, of the ill will of his own clan should he break
their few but skintight taboos (for that would un clan him and make him as one
dead walking among the living).
 
Now...
this was like fronting a cold rage, an are so great that his kin could not even
sense more than a portion of it.

Here
lay in wait a will, a power, a brutal rule which shook him.

Still
the time had come ... or he had come ... too far past the borders of its
control to struggle against it now.

A
will, a power ... he was caught up by sharp command as he came fully into the
open passing the horse that now stood with drooping head as if the beast had
lost all hope.
 
This horse lived, so did
Modic
as he climbed from one step of the wide stair to the
next.
 
Still, though

Rentam
began search with his own heightened guide's sense, he could trace
back that bold assault against him to nothing!
 
There was no trace of man, of
Betweener
, of
animal, of life as he knew it, aroused to draw him shivering towards the
source.
 
To that highly developed sense,
trained to locate life, there came, at last, an answer from a source he had not
expected.

From
the broken tip of the many-colored blade sped a thin thread of red and blue,
entwined one with the other.
 
Those were
the same colors as the light which had been thrown across the rubble-lined
streets of
Lonscraft
... the fearsome alien weapon.

What
did
Rentam
now hold?
 
An artifact which was a dueling ground for bursts of killing color?
 
By arousing his will, pitting his inner strength
against that pull, the guide was able to linger on the second step, even as
Modic
reeled and wavered far closer to that aperture above
which served as an ever open door.

Inch
by inch
Rentam
edged around to look back over the way
he had come. The horse screamed and reared to strike out with its front feet as
might a war-trained stallion.
 
Around it
ringed a crowd of shadows, curious moving bolts of darkness which never clearly
showed themselves. Though there were a number of these remains gathered around
the horse, others padded to the foot of the stair to form a double line of dark
forms, though they avoided the running rill.
 
Rentam
flicked out his tongue in their
direction.
 
Full of viciousness, yes, but
these were not a true part of that which waited within.
 
However they now formed a guard wall against
any retreat, and that could only mean that
Modic
and he
were being edged towards another and doubtless more powerful enemy.

His
foot touched on the next step.
 
There was
a crackling, the sound of something rolling back toward the waiting band.
 
Rentam
saw a skull,
polished enough to reflect the gleam of this alien light.

He
no longer watched the hunters, rather studied his footing.
 
That remnant of his own species, or
Modic's
, was not alone.
 
There lay a scattering of broken bones, some near reduced to powder,
along each step.

He
heard a thin, half-muffled cry which might have come from
Modic
,
muffled as he was by mask.
 
The Seeker
tripped, fell to his knees on the last step, his shoulders shaking, his head
turning from side to side as if so he tried to avoid blows.
 
Some strong compulsion drew him on to crawl
along the platform above as might a seriously injured animal seeking
shelter.
 
There was no cracking of
splintering bones now, all sound had been absorbed by a deep hum which hurt
Rentam's
ears, throbbed through his body.
 
Two more strides brought the guide

beside
Modic
.
 
He
reached down and hooked his fingers in the other's armpit, giving a steady
pull, while the Seeker scrambled in the bones and flopped about, seeming unable
regain to his feet.

"Up!"
 
He was so near to
Modic
Rentam
believed that his words were not lost in that
ever growing throb.

"Up
to your feet, Seeker.

Would
you meet battle on your knees, already so far spent as you seem?"

Modic
turned his shaking head to look up at
Rentam
dull eyed.

Spittle
ran from the corner of his mouth and with it a thread of blood from a lip he
had bitten though.
 
He showed no
understanding, but some part of the guide's urgency must have reached him, as
he swung around to clasp both of his sweat slicked hands on
Rentam's
arm.
 
Using that hold for leverage as he
might a tree or rock pillar, he drew himself up, near over setting
Rentam
in the process, when for a moment or two he hung a
dead weight on the other before regaining his feet.

The
throbbing grew heavier, more assertive as if something ahead was impatient at
their delay.
 
As they moved forward,
Modic
, still using
Rentam
as a
support, they were plunged into light... a blaze of blue.
 
Modic
halted,
stopping
Rentam
almost in
midstride
,
to jerk at the edge of the mask the guide had worn into the city.

"Put
on," he croaked hoarsely, his mouth close to the guide's nearest ear.

One-handed,
for he could not put aside the gem light he held, the
Betweener
obediently pulled on the mask once again though he did not like the curtailment
of sight which wearing it caused.

Only
it was true that once he was again shrouded that blaze of raw light was
subdued, and he could see enough to mark the fact they
they
were indeed in a palace or some incredibly rich shrine.

The
light might blot out a measure of response from the display of unbelievable
wealth about them, but it could not utterly hide what was set in patterns on
the walls, and not only on the walls.
 
There were dunes and drifts of precious metals and gem stones across the
floor, many of the pieces broken.

As
they shuffled on they tramped on a medley of stones and metals of stones and
metals such as could not be seen at a fair even if all which had ever changed
hands there had been reassembled for one great showing.