Tanza (6 page)
‘So you think he will have a group of kindred, or close followers, during the end times,’ Rekala suggested.
‘That seems to be what Astas’ prophecy means, yes,’ Tiaro confirmed.
I was so engrossed in my conversation that I didn’t see Tivac until he was patting me on the back. ‘I just heard the news, Talon. Congratulations! It will be the talk of the town—nay, the realm—for seasons. What a tremendous honour to have the Emperor Ciera for your Sleffion-kin. These are notable days, my friend, and I’m sure glad to be alive to see them.’
I chuckled nervously at his enthusiasm. Sarlice, Thita and Kestric joined us and Tivac did a double-take when he realised Sarlice had also become a Sleffion.
‘So soon for both of you!’ he exclaimed. ‘Thita, how wonderful for you to have met your match.’
‘Indeed it is,’ the small skyearl replied, gnawing at the feathers on one of his wings.
‘Will you all be attending the Bonding Ceremony that’s on this afternoon?’ he asked us.
My hopes flared. ‘I didn’t know there was one.’
‘We could,’ said Thita, nuzzling into Sarlice’s red-bronze hair. ‘I’ve been waiting a long time, why wait another day?’
‘How long have you been waiting?’ Sarlice asked.
He tapped one tiny claw against the fingers of his other forepaw, counting. ‘One hundred and twenty-four years.’ Skyearls matured at around a hundred years of age then ceased ageing. Those over one hundred would only die when their Sleffion-kin died. Those who bonded young had shorter lifespans but often rejoiced in a more brotherly relationship with their Sleffion-kin. Older skyearls tended to take on a mentoring role.
Sarlice, Thita and Kestric made an impressive sight; the flame-furred firetiger, the bright orange skyearl and Sarlice with her rich, bronze hair. I wondered at the colours of my Rada-kin and my new Tolite and Sleffion-kin too; all mostly blue. Sarlice and I had known each other for only a short time, but in that time we had both grown and changed. Here I was, an Astor and she an S.T.R. Since coming together, our lives seemed to have converged into a single path which sped up and strengthened with our combined destinies. Should Jaria and Lyth still be our main focus, or was there something more?
Ciera’s mind touched mine. He was helping a group of large skyearls build a bridge over the other side of town. He spoke openly through the waves so both Thita and I could hear.
‘Are you ready to cast off your immortality this very afternoon, Thita?’ Ciera asked wryly.
I couldn’t sense Thita’s reaction through the waves, but he spread his wings and wrapped them around Sarlice’s head in a gesture of love. Unable to see, she flailed her hands about comically, causing a gathering of children nearby to laugh.
‘You know I am ready to bond,’ I told Ciera.
‘Ha! You barely know what it is,’ came his reply.
I could almost see the light in his eyes, teeth bared and shining against the blue fur of his muzzle. Ciera had a well-developed sense of humour and tolerance.
‘It wasn’t always thus,’ he sent. ‘Krii has spent many a decade training me. He will do this work in you, too.’
I realised my youthful impatience was becoming somewhat of a joke between us.
He, on the other hand, had mixed feelings about the loss of his immortality. Part of him was uncertain about the future of the skyearls since there was no obvious replacement for him after he was gone. Part of him was tired of being unbound and therefore somewhat incomplete. He found a degree of satisfaction in the knowledge that he might live another fifty or sixty years with his own Sleffion. In some ways, it was as if life was finally starting for him. He hefted a large wooden strut down the length of his back and moved it into place beneath the bridge. I decided to leave him to it.
‘Ciera is working, even now,’ I told Tivac, ‘but he is willing to put it off for the Bonding Ceremony.’
‘Tivac, what is a Sleffion Bonding Ceremony like?’ Sarlice asked.
He winked at her. ‘You’ll see.’
Chapter Four—The Bonding Ceremony
W
e rode out of Lantaid with a company of two dozen riders. Sarlice and Duria rode ahead with Tivac on a dun pony. Tivac, who was not a horseman, preferred the more docile (albeit stubborn) nature of ponies. His mount picked its way lazily across the green hillocks. The leaders of the company disappeared through a stand of gorse bushes at what appeared to be the edge of a cliff. As Fleetfoot reached the spot, I felt the rush of open-air against my face. A cavernous gorge opened before us. It was surrounded by enormous cliff faces, dotted with greenery and fallen rocks. Into the distance, down the length of the gorge, was a thin waterfall and river. A gentle breeze flowed up out of the chasm, carrying the faint, wild, scents of river and forest.
Tivac’s mount moved expertly down the rocky track. Duria tossed her head at each rolling pebble and kept pulling against the reins. Sarlice leaned well back in the saddle so that her weight was on the mare’s hind legs.
Miles below was a gathering of onlookers, both human and skyearl. The gorge was like a rock bowl cut into the side of a small mountain. At one end, striped crags towered over it. On our side was a steep, rocky cliff-face with clusters of trees and small plants on either side of the track. In the middle of the bowl was a wooden stage, which was covered with carvings of skyearls and humans.
More onlookers were arriving by air or cloud at every moment. Apparently all those who were bonded with a skyearl already had other ways of getting into the Bonding Canyon.
Skyearls of all shapes and sizes spiralled through the air above the gorge. Those skyearls who were too small to bear their Sleffion down on their backs performed small shroudings. I watched with fascination as the tiniest skyearls flew in complex patterns through the sky, forming a trail of mist in their paths. The mist became denser and denser until, at the very centre, a mystical white substance formed. Humans walked down through the shroud from the very top of the gorge. It looked ridiculous to my eyes, but I kept my thoughts to myself to avoid playing the part of an utter newbie.
‘You’ll soon get used to it,’ Ciera said. ‘Krii blessed me with an aptitude for shrouding ever since I was a whelp.’
He waited down on the stage, easily taking up a quarter of it with his massive body. As if bored, he was puffing out little gusts of steam, which quickly solidified into white disks that floated off in different directions. A group of at least thirty human children were chasing them in circles in front of the stage. A dozen skyearl whelps flew in their midst, playfully snatching the disks and spinning them in new directions. Some of the whelps were larger than Thita.
Besides Sarlice and I, there were two other humans bonding today: Devlan and Gieri. Once the four of us had made our way to the stage a number of horns started to blow. On every face of the gorge, a conical, U-shaped tunnel was cut into the rock. Large skyearls stood below each tunnel and blew into one end of the U. It produced a strange hum, which was soon taken up by countless voices across the canyon.
A choir of skyearls formed around the stage in a circle. They sang a complex melody to go with the background hum. Their voices were like those of a human male choir. Even the females had a husky baritone hum.
As I watched and listened I noticed that each skyearl only sang one portion of the song. Together they created a complex whirlwind of canons. My entire body vibrated with the wistful, enchanting sound and I allowed my lungs to fill with air and my thoughts to become calm. Tension that I had been holding onto for days melted away and a profound sense of relief and hope suffused me.
During the song Ciera gently sifted through my mind, poking a memory here, lifting up an old hurt there, examining my motivations and ambitions. He was puzzled by my relationship with Sarlice but, understanding humans far better than Rekala did, he left it alone. Presently, he invited me to investigate his memories and thoughts.
Looking upon his mind was like standing at the edge of a canyon ten times the size of this one. I felt so tiny and somehow out-ofplace. Things seemed to be changing too fast for me to keep up. The most profound thing I found in Ciera’s mind was such spiritual solidarity. With a maturity I could barely comprehend he embraced change and tribulation, believing even the harshest trials to have been overseen by Krii to strengthen him.
The paradox of suffering made perfect sense in Ciera’s mind. On the one hand there was Krii, fully aware of and using all the good and the bad things that happened to him. On the other, there was the strong conviction that the world was not the way it was meant to be. Krii created the world in light, not in darkness. But, when darkness had come, his true and perfect love did not simply abandon us. Instead, he had chosen to become mortal and walk in the fallen world bringing hope and peace. His eventual sacrifice broke the great seal, granting life after death to all Kriites.
I rejoiced in the knowledge that I could grow so much with Ciera as my Sleffion-kin. When we were each satisfied that what we were doing was truly the will of Krii we sat down on the stage. The singing continued around us as the other initiates strained to find each other in the waves. Sarlice’s face was screwed up in concentration as she tried to make contact with her new Sleffionkin. Over the next hour, I conversed privately with Ciera about everything from our favourite foods to the most boring ceremonies we’d ever had to attend. He chuckled mentally.
Eventually, the others sat too. Sarlice was beaming and kept reaching out to stroke Thita’s fur. One of the horn-blowing dragons ceased his tune. Ciera broke the skyearl song with a low, rumbling howl and a series of growl-grunts. The singers fell silent, allowing Ciera’s skyearl words to echo from wall to wall. The skyearls and their whelps stood with rapt attention, heads pointing in his direction. He continued to growl-grunt.
Escotia, the interpreter from the worship meeting, was waiting at the front of the stage.
In a loud voice she repeated what Ciera was saying in the Telbion-Tanzan language. I already knew what he had said:
‘Welcome to this Bonding Ceremony of four new kin pairs. As you all know, Tanza has thrived for centuries with the blessing of Krii. We, the skyearls, are among the privileged protectors of His people, the Anzaii-kin, Sleffion-kin, Tolite-kin and Rada-kin. Together we are known as Astor-kin. The earliest of the Astor giftings was of course the Anzaii. Being an off-shoot of the original twenty’s inherent abilities, there have always been ‘Anzaii’. However, there were no Anzaii-kin till later. The first of the actual kin were us, the skyearls or Sleffion-kin.
‘Our ancestors were little more than wild animals—water chimera. So-named were they, by the original twenty. Along with the fire chimera or cavearls; beasts that seem part lion, part bull and part snake, we are the greatest of the chimeras. There are many other chimeras, like the platypus of Irin and the hippogryphs of Duuryn, but each is a unique kind in its own right. It is simply easier for scholars to refer to us all as chimera because we are all creatures that appear to be made up of other creatures.
‘We skyearls were made masters of the sky by Krii.
‘Before that our wings could barely lift us off the ground and were used mainly to help us float and swim between the islands of our original home out to sea. Our natural affinity for water was transformed into the wondrous ability to breathe out shrouds and the magical solid platforms we use to build kingdoms in the sky.
‘In return our ancestors agreed to guide and protect the Kriites. The very first bonding between a human and a skyearl was overseen by Krii himself and the miracle of the waves made as plain as it had been during ancient times.
‘It is our duty to continue a tradition of centuries of loyal service.
‘Today we welcome four new human beings into a bonded relationship with their Sleffion-kin. For most skyearls the death of their human-kin also brings about their own death, a sacrifice we are honoured to make. From this day on we will serve you, feel your emotions, hear your thoughts. We will carry you on the strength of our wings and our shrouds. We will defend you with our very lives for we are skyearls.’
When Ciera was finished, there were a few moments of silence.
Escotia announced, ‘I now present Devlan the Sleffion, bonded with Guardian Rinshock. They are bonded on this the 119
th
day of the 700
th
year of the Age of Astors.’
A pair of red sashes was handed to the boy standing next to me. He slung one across his shoulder and beneath the other arm then approached Rinshock with the other. The black and silver skyearl bowed his head and allowed Devlan to tie the sash around his neck, a symbol of both his servitude and his ties to the human.
‘I now present Gieri the Sleffion, Tolite, bonded this day with Scout Annaseld. They are bonded on this the 119
th
day of the 700
th
year of the Age of Astors.’
Gieri was given a pair of white sashes—white for the scouts, I presumed—and she donned hers as Devlan had.
Sarlice gave me a look of excitement as her turn approached. The boy waiting on the side of the stage had a pair of blue sashes and a pair of yellow. Judging by the sizes of the skyearl sashes the yellow one was for Thita and the blue for Ciera.
‘I now present Sarlice the Sleffion, Tolite, Rada,’ Escotia announced. ‘She is bonded this day with Strategist Thita. They are bonded on this the 119
th
day of the 700
th
year of the Age of Astors.’
Sarlice stepped forward, accepted the sashes and put them on. Thita shivered with delight at her touch and fluttered happily around her head when she was finished. The tiny sash fell off his neck and Sarlice gave an embarrassed squawk and hurried to reaffix it. Escotia smiled at her and waited. When my guide was finished, the interpreter resumed her serious expression and spoke in a voice that boomed loudly in my skull.
‘Finally, I give you Talon the Astor, bonded with Emperor Ciera. They are bonded on this the 119
th
day of the 700
th
year of the Age of Astors.’