The Third God (23 page)

The sky was striped with ochre as, dismounted, they began to clamber up scree. Behind him Carnelian could see the mouth of the Pass already in twilight. Above them the cliff rose so high it was almost impossible to see its crest.

Dusk climbed the slope after them. It overtook them even as a cave mouth came into view. Near-darkness forced them to slow their climb. At last, Carnelian saw the Lepers ahead begin to be swallowed by the cave. When its arch was over his head, he looked back, then flinched: a glimmering tide was pouring out from the black throat of the Pass. Countless torches and, in among them, clots of darkness that must be dragons. As the Lepers had warned, Aurum had come.

A columned cavern opened before them, haunted by the echoes of their arrival. Smoke hung like mist above fires whose light revealed the trunks of stalagmites. Pools cast spangles up onto the rough arches between the stalactites. Though this place bore a resemblance to the Labyrinth, its far humbler proportions made it seem a wood they were entering, a living place.

Krow and Poppy led the aquar that carried Fern. They chose a spot between a fire and a pool to coax the creature to kneel. Carnelian helped them lift Fern out and lay him on a shelf of rock. As they tended to him they became aware of shades crowding the edge of the firelight.

‘Lepers,’ Carnelian said in a low voice. ‘They won’t hurt us.’

Some of the shrouded figures edged closer. They huddled, peering at Carnelian, pulling away when he looked at them.

‘They’ll not have seen the face of one of the Standing Dead before,’ whispered Poppy.

Carnelian nodded, then noticed one Leper approaching boldly. He rose to meet it.

‘We need to talk, Carnie.’ It was Lily, as he had hoped. ‘You and us, the other Master, the Marula leader.’

He glanced at Poppy. ‘You’ll stay with Fern?’

When she nodded, Carnelian followed Lily off into the limestone forest.

When they reached a secluded spot Carnelian reached out to touch Lily’s shoulder. ‘Why are you helping us?’

The figure in front of him could have been a shrouded post. ‘You must realize that Aurum would’ve easily destroyed the Marula and then left for the Mountain, taking me and the other Master with him.’

Lily turned and her bandaged hands went up to her brow to push back her cowl. The snow of her face and hair, her ruby eyes, were almost as much of a surprise to Carnelian as they had been the first time he had seen them. ‘We know that, in searching for you, Au-rum will wreak more destruction upon us. We fear this more than words can describe. We’re a traumatized people, terrified, but I believe and have persuaded others to believe that the only hope for us is resistance; that we must seek to restore the dignity we have lost.’

‘You seek this through vengeance?’

Lily’s eyes darkened. ‘Through justice.’

Having his words thrown back at him made Carnelian pause.

Lily grimaced and her face lost its fierceness. ‘Most of my people will pursue this as vengeance though, in time, this may change. What I’ve come to believe, however, is that this hope of justice alone can unite my people, can give them back strength enough to save them from being broken. This is the only way I can see to heal them, to heal our land.’

Carnelian’s heart responded to her plea. He wanted to give her his support, but there was a part of him that feared how much it might cost her people, cost her in the end. ‘Even with dragons we might not be able to overcome Aurum. Even if we do, even if we give him to you, our rebellion will be put down by the Masters. Once they restore their dominion they’ll pursue everyone they consider responsible. It’s unlikely they won’t discover the part you and your people have played.’

Lily’s eyes, for a moment, seemed to become colourless. ‘That is a risk we must be prepared to take. Will we not be in much the same position as your Plainsmen?’ She put on a smile, affecting confidence. ‘Besides, what more can they do to us?’

Carnelian gazed at her long enough to allow his silence to answer that. She reached out and took his hand. ‘Nevertheless, I believe we’ve no other choice.’ She frowned. ‘Besides, my heart tells me you were sent to us.’

They both watched the reflections of the Marula dance in a pool like black flames. Carnelian felt dread threatening to overcome him. Her faith was too close to that Akaisha and so many others of the Ochre had put in him. The faith his weakness had betrayed. Still, he could not dash her hope. He believed what she said, that her people needed hope. Perhaps they needed
her
hope.

He put his free hand over hers. ‘Lily, you must not trust Osidian.’

‘The other Master?’

‘It’s doubtful he’d give you Aurum even were he in his power.’

Lily shrugged. ‘I’m not sure that matters. For now it’s enough that my people can play a part in bringing our enemy down. As for the other Master, it is not him I trust, but you.’

Osidian stood before a tapering pillar of limestone, Morunasa at his side, Lepers keeping their distance. He was asking them something about plague.

‘Carnelian, they seem to know nothing of the Lord of Plagues,’ he said, his Quya populating the cavern with ghostly Masters. ‘Though I should wonder at my own surprise. Still, it has struck me that the ability to spread leprosy by touch is an attribute of that avatar. He in turn is, I believe, merely an aspect of the Black God. Of whom,’ he said, shifting into Vulgate and nodding towards Morunasa, ‘the Darkness-under-the-Trees is another aspect.’

Morunasa turned away to stare into the shadows. Carnelian could sense by the cast of his shoulders how affronted the man was. He gazed at Osidian, hoping his own contempt was not soaking through into his face. Osidian’s need for divine sanction seemed at that moment the most pathetic superstition. Carnelian wondered how Osidian might respond to discovering that, perhaps, every one of the Lepers before him was free of the disease.

‘Now that you’re here . . .’ Osidian turned on the Lepers, among whom Lily was now lost. ‘Describe to me this secret way.’

It was her voice that answered him. ‘There’s a city east of here built upon the very edge of the Landabove. This city controls seven ladders—’

‘Qunoth,’ Osidian said, a fierce hunger brightening in his eyes.

‘ – steep ways up to gates in the Ringwall, but there’s an eighth ladder known only to the Lep—’

Osidian interrupted again. ‘This ladder, this Lepers’ Ladder, it comes up into Qunoth?’

‘It does, Master.’

‘And you say that only your kind know of its existence?’

‘We’re certain of this, Master.’

‘How would we get there?’

‘With Au-rum hunting you, we dare not take a route across the Valleys. Instead we must follow trails that run along the foot of the Landabove.’

Morunasa spoke for the first time. ‘Can we ride along these trails?’

‘No. They’re difficult enough even on foot.’

Morunasa shook his head. ‘This will take too long.’

Lily’s shrouded figure emerged from the others. ‘We’ll have reason to count the days more than you, Maruli, for it’s upon my people that Au-rum will prey as he searches for you.’

‘How can we hope to remain supplied during such a journey?’ asked Osidian.

Lily shrugged. ‘My people have sought refuge in caves all along the margin of the Landabove. I believe they’ll share what they have with you and your men.’

Osidian frowned. ‘This has been arranged?’

‘No, Master, but I believe they will help anyone who has promised to deliver our enemy to our justice.’

Carnelian sensed how distasteful Osidian considered the notion of handing one of the Great over to such vermin. ‘Do you swear you’ll give him up, Osidian? Will you swear it upon your blood, upon your faith in your god?’

The eyes Osidian turned on him were those of an eagle.

‘Unless you do, Master, we’ll not help you,’ said Lily.

Carnelian could see that Osidian was calculating how he might achieve what he wanted without the Lepers’ willing help. ‘My Lord, forget not how Aurum has treated you. To save himself he seeks to take you back to Osrakum to your death. Why forgo the chance these people offer you, in order to save such a one?’

Osidian looked down for some moments, then, raising his head, he swore the oath.

‘Master . . .’ said Morunasa to get Osidian’s attention. ‘You know what we’ve suffered pursuing your ends. We’ve been so close to failure that, in spite of the proofs of favour our Lord has shown you, we’re close to abandoning you and returning to the Lower Reach to salvage what we can from its ruin. I share your faith, my Master, but I dare not hazard my people’s last chance of survival on anything less than certainty.

‘Will you swear as you have done for these –’ Morunasa indicated the Lepers with a stab of his chin – ‘that once you come into your own you’ll provide us with the means to bind bronze rings to the Upper Reach from which new ladders may be hung?’

Carnelian stared at the Oracle, wondering at his forbearance that he should be prepared to wait until they had conquered Osrakum. Why was he putting faith in such an unlikely outcome? Osidian too was surveying Morunasa with frowning suspicion, but nevertheless he swore the oath and the Oracle pronounced himself satisfied.

Carnelian had his own request to make, one that he wished all those present to witness. He addressed his comments to the Lepers. ‘The wounded Plainsman we’ve brought here can go no further in his condition. I judge he and the other two of his kind are of no further use to us. However, they’ve served us well enough and I’d like to leave them where they might have a decent life. Would you make a place for them among yourselves?’

Carnelian kept his attention fixed on the Lepers, though really his speech was meant as much for Osidian as it was for them.

Lily spoke for the Lepers. ‘Outcasts have always found refuge in our valleys.’

Carnelian nodded his thanks, then turned to Osidian. Their eyes met. Osidian seemed puzzled, but also pleased as he raised his hand to add his gesture of assent.

As Carnelian made his way back through the cavern, he prepared himself for the coming confrontation with Poppy. This time she would have no choice. He drew what thin comfort he could from having found his friends some kind of refuge. As for his own pain at the separation, that would have to wait for when he had the luxury to indulge it.

He reached the place where Fern was lying. Krow was there, resting against a stalagmite. Poppy was nowhere to be seen. The youth looked up at him. It must have been the expression on Carnelian’s face that made him jump up. ‘Carnie?’

Carnelian saw the youth’s alarm, but could only manage a slight smile of reassurance. ‘We’re going east from here following a route to the Guarded Land.’

‘And we’re staying behind,’ said Krow.

Carnelian nodded. He looked down at Fern. ‘He certainly can’t come with us.’

‘And Poppy?’

Carnelian raised his head and saw how sick Krow looked. ‘Where I’m going there’s no place for her. You must see that’s true.’

Krow nodded.

‘And you must stay with her. I sense that that’s what your heart wants too.’

Krow looked very young, his face expressing his feelings even as he strove to hide them.

‘I’ve found a place for you among these people. They’re not so different from Plainsmen. They’re clean. Their leprosy is mostly a disguise they wear to protect themselves from others.’

Carnelian was not sure Krow was taking all of this in. He wanted to do what he could to give the youth back his pride. ‘You know I love her too. I’m not allowing myself to feel how much it’ll hurt me never to see her again, but it’ll lessen my pain to know that you’ll be here to take care of her.’

Krow surfaced from his confusion to gaze at Carnelian, checking to make sure he meant it. Then his face crumpled, close to tears. ‘She’ll never forgive me,’ he whispered. ‘Never.’

Carnelian moved to him and took his face in both his hands so that Krow was forced to look him in the eyes. ‘That’s not true, Krow. She’s loyal to the memory of the Ochre, but growing in her heart is the knowledge that, whatever part you played, you did so unwillingly.’

Krow was looking at him through tears. He began mumbling, but Carnelian hushed him. He let go of him and stood back. ‘I don’t need to know anything. I don’t want to. I have my own guilt to atone for.’

He looked down at Fern. ‘Even he’ll forgive you in time.’

Carnelian felt suddenly weary. The pain was beginning to leak through his control and there was still worse to go. ‘Tell me where she went, Krow.’

‘She wandered off towards the cave entrance.’

With a heart that seemed crumbling stone Carnelian went to find her.

Light from the fires did not reach the entrance and so Carnelian had to feel his way. The rock was cold under his hands, smooth as bone, but wet. The floor was ridged and whorled, so that he almost felt as if he were creeping across some vast Plainsman Ancestor House. Curves and surfaces became visible ahead, gradually, as if rising from the bottom of the sea. Then he saw a luminous aura whose stone-toothed edge made him realize it was the entrance. It grew brighter with each step. Reaching the opening he could feel the moth-wing touch of the night air upon his face. Stars were the source of all the light. Dark walls funnelled into the Pass. Down on its floor he spotted the tiny jewel. A phosphorescent mote in the deep: Aurum’s camp.

‘You’re leaving us behind.’

Carnelian jumped. ‘By the horns.’

He searched for Poppy and saw her face against the rock as if it had been carved there.

‘Where we’re going, even I might not survive. If I do I’ll be returning to the Mountain.’ Carnelian thought of making some vague promise that, once there, he would send agents to seek her out and bring her to him, but that was a commitment so threadbare it was indistinguishable from a lie. He wanted her to say something, anything. Silence was unbearable. ‘You know I’d stay if I could, but if I’ve learned nothing else I’ve learned there’s no place for any of the Standing Dead out here.’

A silence fell in which he could hear the beating of his heart.

‘Aren’t you going to tell me, Carnie, that I need to stay here to look after Fern?’