The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom (119 page)

Sireth benAramis looked at them,
the young girl trapped in a terrifying world of vision and farsight, the young
man who had never uttered a word outside his own tongue. Then he turned to the
snow leopard, heart of a warrior, wife of a priest. The first woman he had
loved in twenty years.

She raised her chin, defiant.

He tossed the dagger, point
down, into the snow.

“You are a stranger to me,” he
said before returning to the gar.

For her part, Ursa Laenskaya
held her ground for a very long time before she too disappeared into the
shadows of the night.

Kerris turned to look at the
tigress, still clutching his arm.

“You’re not leaving, are you?
Please tell me you’ll never leave.”

She shook her head, emerald eyes
brimming with tears. He gathered her into his arms and kissed them away.

And snow began to fall over the
village of Lon’Gaar.

***

Beyond the village of Jia’Khan
on the wide bleak holy Plateau of Tevd, there was a field of stone and in the
center of the field, was a temple.

It was a small temple made of
the Ancestors’ square gray stone and it rose from the field like a gar. The
peak was gold, pure gold that gleamed in the dawn’s dim light and drew the eye
as if it were the only thing on the plain. Around the temple, driftwood mounds
were assembled like altars, rising from the ground almost to the peak of the
temple itself. Far, far behind them, they could see the early morning smoke of
Jia’Khan and the army of ten thousand, looking like a black sea under a heavy
sky. There was no sound but the wind, no smell but the scent of incense and
decay.

Long-Swift looked at the Bear.
The man stood with his hands on his hips,
kushagamak
looped at his side,
his iron hair waving in the cold wind. There was frost on his chin and it made
him look old. Long-Swift couldn’t imagine the Khargan old. Khans never lasted
long. Rivals took them down, wore
their
skulls as armor in much the same
way Khans wore lions. But then again, the Bear was no ordinary Khan.

“The Temple of Eyes,” the Bear
growled as he studied the strange building and its surrounding area. “That is a
small home for such a large man.”

“You go down,” said Long-Swift.
“The villagers say his home is underground.”

“I cannot wait to meet this
Oracle.” The Bear grinned, his teeth sharp and white. “Perhaps I will take
his
eyes as payment to me.”

Long-Swift shrugged. The thought
of the Bear torturing yet another Oracle was unpleasant. It would not go well
if the man continued this way. Perhaps the Eye of the Needle was Fate’s answer
for such treatment. Both roads were dangerous.

“You are afraid,” said the Bear.

“The villagers are afraid of
him.”

“The villagers are afraid of
many things. A long winter, a raven at moondown, an army of cats. An Oracle is
a god to them.”

“What if he
is
bigger
than you?”

“Then I look forward to beating
him.”

They looked back at the temple.
There was a raven sitting on one of the altars, pecking with its sharp beak. It
was a sickening thought as they realized the mounds were not made of wood.

“A raven at moondown,” said
Long-Swift. “It is a bad omen.”

“I am not afraid of a bird, at
any
time. We have a volunteer?”

“Yes.”

Long-Swift looked back to the
group of men standing behind them. Three soldiers, ears cropped, tails docked,
and a villager – a thin man with wiry pelt and bound hands.

“What did he do?”

“Took his brother’s young
daughter who was not yet a woman. He was being starved to death as punishment.
Losing an eye in the service of his Khan will restore his standing in the
community.” The Irh-Khan looked back. “Of course, the shock might very well
kill him.”

“Then we’ll have two eyes,” said
the Khargan. “Good plan.”

“I thought so.”

The Bear smiled again and
together, they crossed the field of stones toward the temple.

***

It was dawn when Kirin awoke to
the sounds of shouting. He was on his feet in a heartbeat, hand on the hilt of
the Blood Fang as natural as breathing.

The young dog was shouting,
cursing in his guttural language, pointing and snapping and making wild
gestures. Several soldiers had weapons drawn, Ursa included and her steel
glinted in the early morning light. As he approached, he could make out the
Seer, his brother and the Scholar all trying to calm the creature down but with
the tension brought by the mere presence of dogs, he knew it wouldn’t take much
for an arrow to be loosed or a blade sent flying, ending their very first
attempts at diplomacy in blood.

“What is it?” he asked, mindful
to keep the Fangs in their beds.

Five heads turned at his
approach.

“Setse,” growled the dog and he
pointed to an impression in the snow. “
Setse
alag bulokh.”

“She’s gone,” said the Scholar
and she wrapped her thin arms around her ribs. “Setse is gone.”

“Good riddance,” said Ursa.

“Setse
ali Shar Ma’uul,”
the dog growled. “Know this true. Shar Ma’uul bad for Setse.”

“That’s two fifths of the Magic,
Captain,” said the Seer, not bothering to correct his rank. “We will not be
able to create or maintain a Shield now and the entire army will be vulnerable.
Sad, isn’t it?”

“Can you find her?”

“I suppose I can.”

Kirin grit his teeth. He knew
how this would play out. It had happened time and time and time again.

“Will you?”

The Seer arched a brow, the one
with the scar cutting through.

“She will not return without
Yahn Nevye. She loves him.”

At the name, Naranbataar laid
back his ears and growled again.

“And you have sworn to kill him
when you see him next. It’s a dilemma, I’ll give you that. All because you
couldn’t lay it down. All because you couldn’t see beyond your own bloody
glass.”

Kirin stared at him.

“I can find her,” said Ursa.

“No,”
said Kirin and
Sireth in unison, and she glowered at them both.

“I’ll go,” said Kerris. “I can
track better than any of you.”

“No, Kerris,” said Kirin.
“Kaidan is our Ambassador and this is your mission. If anyone goes, it will be
me.”

“But you can’t track. And after
what you did last night, why would either of them want to return?”

The Shogun-General sighed,
turned to the dog.

“Will you help me?”

The dog stared at him.

“Will. You. Help. Me?” he
repeated, speaking slowly and loudly, as if translation could be overcome by
speed and volume.

“Bi oilgokhgui baina,”
said
the dog.

“I don’t understand,” growled
Kirin.

“Ba nadad tuslahgui yu,”
came a throaty voice from behind and the Alchemist slipped into the conversation,
her baby perched on her hip. “I can come with you,
sidi
. To translate,
of course.”

“Her?” Kerris snorted. “Better
to travel with a snake.”

“Kerris, that’s enough.”

“And who will lead the Army,
Kirin? That
is
why we’re here. The girl is sweet and it’s a bonus to
have dogs traveling with us, but honestly, we’re here with an army,
as
an
army. You are the Shogun-General of that army. Who will lead if you’re not
here?”

Kirin took a long deep breath,
looked around at all the faces awaiting his words, needing him to say something
that would reinstate their faith in this mission. Truth be told, he needed it
as much for himself.

“You, Kerris. You will lead the
Army. You and Bo Fujihara and Fallon Waterford-Grey and Major Laenskaya and the
last Seer of
Sha’Hadin
. You will all lead the Army of Blood until I
return with the Oracle.”

“And
Yahn Nevye?” asked
the Seer.

“And Yahn Nevye,” said Kirin,
gritting his teeth.

“Well then,” said Kerris. “You
should go now, while the trail’s fresh.”

Kirin turned to the dog,
Naranbataar. “We go now.”

“Garakh ba,”
said the
Alchemist, and the dog nodded, bent to grab his bedroll from the snow. The
cheetah turned to the tigress.

“Will you tend my baby, little
sister?” she purred. “It will not be good for him on this trail.”

And she held Kylan out, wrapped
in hides and wool blankets. Tentatively, the Scholar took him, spared only a
glance for her husband as she fell into the baby’s large, bicoloured eyes.

“Oh, Sherah,” she whispered. “It
would be an honour.”

And she clutched the baby to her
chest.

“No,” said Sherah. “It is my
honour.”

The cheetah slipped a pack from
her back, passed it into the Seer’s hands.

“Medicines for your wound. It
still presents a danger,
sidi.
The Eyes will see. Do not neglect it.”

“I will,
sidala.
Thank you
again.”

“Of course.”

And finally, the Seer turned to
the Shogun-General.

“There is an old proverb,
Captain, in the Book of Truths. ‘It is easier for a khamel to go through the
eye of a needle than a proud man to enter the gates of NirVannah’.”

Kirin sighed. “At the rate I’m
going,
sidi,
I may never reach the gates of NirVannah.”

“Well, we do need you alive a
little longer.”

“I will do my best.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

Kirin shook his head, glanced at
the snow leopard, her steel still bare, hair wild in the cold morning breeze.

“Major, this is not a mission of
blood. You need to remember that.”

“Sir.”

“Can you carry out this mission
without the shedding of it? I trust you can, and more than that, I trust you
will.”

“Sir.”

“You will listen to Kerris for
here, he is not Kerris but Kaidan, Ambassador of the Upper Kingdom. You will
listen to Bo Fujihara and Fallon Waterford-Grey and to your husband and you
will use your skills to serve the Empire, not your desire for retribution or
revenge. I believe we will see more of that than either of us have ever needed
or wanted. Is this something you can do, Major? Are you willing to lay down
your glass, even as I struggle to lay down mine? Can you take this journey
through the eye of the needle?”

Her lip curled.

“I will try, sir.”

“Well then…” He looked up at
benAramis, his gaze defiant. “That is all anyone can ask.”

“Belen,”
said the dog,
standing at the ready.

Kirin nodded and turned to the
Alchemist. She smiled and he could not remember a time when she had looked more
beautiful. His heart twisted in his chest.

He looked down. There was a
dagger sticking out of the snow.

“Ah, there it is,” said the Seer
and he reached down, tugged it from the drift. “I must have dropped it last
night.”

He slipped it into one of the
folds in his leather robe.

Major Ursa Laenskaya said
nothing.

“Hopefully, we will meet you by
sunset,” said the Shogun-General. “If not sooner.”

He bowed to them all, fist to
cupped palm before turning and heading for his horse, the Alchemist and the dog
at his heels.

***

The Temple of Eyes was empty,
save for two candles, the skull of a yak and a circle of rusted metal in the
center of the room.

The Bear swung around, grabbing
the throat of the villager and lifting him high into the air.

“Where is the Oracle?” he
growled.
“Where is the Oracle?”

“The circle,” gasped the man,
his feet swinging above the floor. “A gift from the Ancestors. Stand on the
circle, Lord. Stand on the circle.”

“What is your name?”

“Tsakhiagiin Yisu, Lord.”

Long-Swift and the Bear
exchanged glances before the Khargan swung the villager around, releasing his
grip.

“You
stand on the circle,
Yisu.”

Long-Swift could almost hear the
man’s teeth chattering as he stepped first one boot, then the second onto the
rusted metal plate. Immediately, a railing began to rise from the floor and
both Khan and Irh-Khan stepped back. Yisu wrapped his hands around the railing
and the temple was filled with an unnatural hum. There was a jerk, then a start
and suddenly, both circle and villager began to descend through the floor into
darkness.

Long-Swift swallowed, peered
down through the hole. There was candlelight and the odor that wafted up was an
assault on his nose. The Bear growled where he stood.

They waited for several long
minutes until sounds began to echo up from the depths, along with the rising of
the circle. Sounds of bootfall, frantic and fast. Sounds of mountains moving
underground, sounds of snakes slithering and slapping, and voices. Three
voices, one sharp as a crow, one low as thunder, one whose pleas grew
progressively louder until they became a scream, silenced as the metal circle
slid back into place.

The Bear turned to the three
behind him.

“Give us the count of one
thousand. Then follow.”

The men nodded as their leader
reached over his shoulder, drew
ala’Asalan
from his back and stepped
onto the circle. Pulling his curved sword, Long-Swift did the same and stood
back to back, weapons at the ready. Together, they began their descent into
darkness.

For several long moments, the
platform shook and groaned until finally came to a lurching end. They remained
on the circle for several moments while their eyes adjusted to the darkness.
The air assaulted them. It was old and smelled of blood and excrement and oil.
The room was vast—one chamber opening onto another in the distance and
moss grew down the walls in black slicks. There were flames dancing in trenches
along the floor and cables swinging from the ceiling and the Irh-Khan could
tell in an instant that this was no natural place. It was a cave of the
Ancestors.