The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom (27 page)

At his own side, however, the
Alchemist was another story. Before sleeping, she had loosened the laces at her
throat and the milky white pelt of her chest and belly stood out like beams of
sunlight in a darkened cavern. The black and silver vestments at her hips
splayed skirt-like across the rock beneath her as did her mat of wavy hair.
All
too
familiar
, he thought darkly. He lifted her tail away with ginger
fingers.

Claws,
strong and black, slid from the tips of her fingers as she engaged in an
elaborate stretch from tip of tail to top of head, forcing him to watch every
arch and curve of her waking. With a long breath, she rolled into a seated
position next to him, her shoulder brushing his. She turned her sleepy golden
eyes on him and smiled.

“Time
to go?” she purred.

She
was hypnotic.

“Yes,”
he said.

More
beautiful than the sun.

“Yes,
it is.”

Like
the Empress...

“It’s
time to go.”

The
Empress
.

He
stood too quickly, feeling the blood rush from his temples and causing him to
breathe deeply to re-orient himself to their new terrain. The
Shi’pal
roared beneath them and the Captain studied the path ahead. The spray of waters
would be a tolerable nuisance, keeping them cool in the heat of the ravine and
awake to any dangers it might possess. Ice still crusted her steep banks and he
knew at some point they would have to cross. He hoped there would be a bridge
for it would be impossible to forge such a river.

With
a quick nod of his head, he strode away from the cheetah, not knowing whether
the chill racing up his spine was caused by the cool waters or the golden eyes
weighing heavily upon him.

Farther down the rock face, the
Seer nudged the young tigress with his arm.

“Wake up,
Kallilah.
I
believe the Captain wants to head out.”

Fallon
looked up at him with a wide, floppy grin, slowly blinking the sleep from her
eyes.

“Hmm.
Kallilah
. That’s an
old name. My father used to call me that when I was a little girl.”

“It
suits you.”

“Yeah.
That’s what he used to say.”

He
rose to his feet, waiting patiently as she had yawned so that her tongue curled
inside her mouth and stretched so that every joint in her arms popped. Finally,
she took the gloved hand offered her and allowed herself to be helped to her
feet.

“Isn’t
this river beautiful? This is the
Shi’pal
, right? Did you know that the
Shi’pal
has many names? Some places, she’s called
Shammah’puthra,
and some
places she’s called
Shang’bun.
Depends on your province, I guess. And
wow, what fish! I can’t remember eating better fish, although I probably have,
‘cause we used to eat glacier-fish all the time, but I just can’t remember.
Maybe I was just really hungry. Yeah, that’s probably it. Well, let’s go then.
I just can’t wait to see what we see next.”

And
she strolled away towards her horse, arms swinging, feet bouncing, white-tipped
tail tapping out some tune that played inside her head. Sighing, Sireth watched
her go, cursing his lapse and fighting back the rush of sadness that threatened
to claim him. The falcon chirruped over his shoulder, pushed his cheek with her
hooked beak. He stroked her breast.

“Yes. Yes, I know,” he said softly.
“What’s gone is gone. Thank you for your counsel.”

With
that, Path left his shoulder, rising on the updraft from the ravine. She was a
silhouette in moments.

He
sighed a second time and looked around at the people, all busy with the
business of mounting horses. Suddenly, there was a cold breeze and he turned.
The Major was staring at him, scowling as she tucked several dried fillets into
her saddlebag. He held it for a heartbeat, that icy stare, then made a point of
turning his back to her and headed for his own horse.

“Right!”
called Kerris from the back of his pony. “Everyone ready? Yes? Let’s go then! Adventure
awaits!”

And
so, like a river beside a river, the trail of horses moved out, refreshed and
renewed for the journey ahead of them.

***

They
hadn’t seen the sun for hours. It was growing dark in this deep mountain
ravine, the only light reflecting from so many sheets of glacial ice and even
that was becoming dim as evening drew closed the first day of their journey.
The road had narrowed, the river grown swifter and it was clear that a
waterfall must lie ahead, for here they found signs of Ancestors.

Signposts
really, artifacts from ancient days, pipes of rusted metal and great grey boxes
split open by the earth, containing nothing of value any longer. But these
artifacts were dangerous, as dangerous as anything left behind by the Ancestors
and cats had long since learned to be wary of such things. Sometimes, such
things killed.

So it was with some measure of
caution that Kerris slid from his pony’s back and disappeared into a cleft in
the side of the mountain. Unlike the cliffs of
Sha’Hadin,
this cave was
symmetrical, chiseled with angular precision and reinforced with the smooth
grey stone so common throughout the Older Civilizations. And like most examples
of that grey stone, this too was now cracked by vines and alive with the moss
that gradually worked to consume it. A fence of twisted red wire lay by the
entrance, ready to snag both pelt and cloth if one moved too close. It still
kept things out.

“Right!
Safe enough!” called Kerris from within. “This will do for tonight!”

One
by one, the party dismounted and began the process of removing the tack from
their horses. The animals would be left to forage on their own for the night
for horses were fierce hunters, adept at finding a meal at the expense of the
lesser creatures. It wasn’t uncommon for them to go for days on only mice,
rabbits and grass. Their riders, however, were more particular.

“Pigeons,”
muttered Ursa as she made her way into the Old cavern. “I smell pigeons.”

She bent down to gather a few small
stones from the floor. She bounced them in her palm, rolled them across her
fingers and with a swift sharp motion, flung the stones toward the ceiling. The
roof echoed with the sounds of impact and almost instantly she was showered in
feathers.

Several bodies thumped to the
ground.

Fallon’s eyes were wide as she
slipped under the threshold and into the Old cavern. She inhaled the musty
scent, let her gaze linger over the stark architecture of the room. It seemed
to be a series of rooms actually, slick with river spray and rich with moss. In
the centre, Kerris had already begun placing the coals for the night’s campfire
and she moved to his side immediately.

“This
is amazing, isn’t it?” she breathed.

“Well,
it’s just a pile of coals.”

“No,
I mean, places like this. Old places. Places of history. It must have been a
powerful place.”

“Why
do you say that?”

“Well.”
She wrapped her arms ‘round her ribs. “We’re near a waterfall.”

He
glanced up at her. “You don’t really believe those old tales, do you?”

“Well...”

“It’s
just impossible, now isn’t it? There is simply no way to take fire from water.
Any other element, perhaps, but not fire.”

“Well,
maybe not fire.”

He
shook his head and resumed pouring the oil over the coals. She knelt down
beside him.

“But
look at the oil.”

“The
oil?”

“Well,
we use the oil to make the fire. And they were smarter than us. Why couldn’t
they have used water to make fire?”

“Because
it would get it all wet, now wouldn’t it?”

“But
maybe they didn’t use it to make
fire.”

“But
isn’t that what we’re talking about?”

“Yes.”
The tigress nodded.

“Right
then.”

He bent back down to his work,
trying not to look at her. She, however, was still looking at him, as if
expecting him to be thinking about something.

“Maybe you should go help Ursa
pluck those pigeons. Feathers do terrible things to my digestion.”

She
stayed beside him, expecting for several moments longer. Finally, she said,
“Okay” and left.

He
shook his head.

It
wasn’t long before the scent of incense descended from above and he felt warm
breath on his neck. He did not need to look up.

“’Rah?”

“Yes?”

“Do
you think the Ancestors could take fire from water?”

“They
were very powerful.”

He
turned his face toward her, knowing she would be but a kiss away.

“Can you?”

She
smiled.

“Of
course.”

***

The stories began that night.

Kerris had always been a good
storyteller, not only for his remarkable memory for legend and his wealth of
personal experience but for the animated way he presented both. In the glow of
this late-night fire under the low mossy ceiling which flickered with
lamplight, he told his tales. He told them with his whole body, tail slapping,
eyes dancing. Alternately on his feet then down to his knees. Kirin could not
help but notice that, almost without exception, the entire party was
spellbound, taking in the performance with obvious delight. Even the Major
seemed to be enjoying herself for she sat cross-legged, picking her teeth with
the sharp tine of a feather, her customary scowl replaced by something like a
wicked grin. For his part, Kirin thought it a pleasant change.

Only
the Seer seemed distracted. Kirin made a note to speak to him before the night
was through.

“So
there we were, hauling this beastly creature out of the poacher’s pit when
suddenly the weight increased a hundred-fold!” Kerris’ eyes were as round as
blue moons. “It was as if I was hauling the thing up by
myself!”

Fallon
let out a little squeal, hands clasped tightly under her chin.

“Does
anyone have any idea how much a baby behemoth weighs? Any idea at all? No?
Well, let me assure you that they are very heavy, more than ten men I should
think. And it was struggling and bellowing the entire time. I finally got a
hold of its trunk, then one of its great floppy ears, and pulled the horrid
little thing onto the grass. When at last I caught breath enough to look
around, what did I find? That it was true - I
had
been pulling it up by
myself! The rest of my pack was gone, disappeared into the jungle like the
dung-beetles that they were!”

Ursa’s
smile broadened. Kirin shook his head.

“So,
there I was, me, by myself, saving this baby behemoth from the poacher’s nets
when I feel this puff of hot breath on my neck...”

Fallon squealed again and Kerris
looked at all the faces, his pause dramatic and well timed.

“And sure enough, when I gather my
wits and turn around, what do I see but baby’s great big behemoth Mummie
standing behind me!”

Sherah
sat forward. “Tusks?”

“Huge
tusks, my dear! Longer than your cheetah’s tail. Pointed right at me, I might
add.”

“Tusks
can be ground up to make many things...”

“And
so can lions, under those great flat feet! I was just sitting there on the
grass and there she was, towering over me like the mountains. They have such
long noses, you know that? And hers grabbed me, wrapped me right round the
middle, and before I knew it, I was in the air, face to face with this baby’s
angry mother! I could practically see the red in her beady eyes!”

Kirin
suppressed a smile. The story got better each time Kerris told it. But to his
brother’s credit, it was true, every word of it. He had no need of
exaggeration.

 
“I’ve seen behemoths tear the heads from
men’s shoulders,” Ursa snorted. “Split them wide open with one blow from those
tusks.”

“What
happened?” yelped the Scholar. “What happened?!”

“She
put me down. Just like that. She put me down and walked away, crunching through
the trees with her baby safe at her heels.”

“Wow,”
breathed Fallon, “You’re really lucky.”

Kerris
looked at his brother and grinned. “Yes I am, aren’t I?”

“Have
you ever seen an Ancestor?”

All
eyes turned to the Seer, speaking for the first time all evening and Kirin
cursed under his breath.

“Come
again,
sidi?”
asked Kerris.

“I
mean, images of Ancestors. Carvings. Reliefs. Books, that sort of thing.”

“Oh
yes. Many, many times.”

“Tell
me.”

“No.”
Finally, Kirin rose to his feet. “Not tonight. It is time to rest. We have an
early start in the morning.”

Silenced,
benAramis averted his eyes as though guilty of breaking some unspoken taboo.
But the Scholar was eager.

“Please sir, I think we all would
love to hear –”

“I
said
, not tonight.”

She
was crestfallen.

And
the party rose to their feet, breaking the warmth of the fire circle and moving
towards their respective bedrolls. Kirin grabbed the Seer by the arm, his voice
low and threatening.

“Not you,
sidi.
A word outside.”

It was not a question.

There
was a spark of defiance, but only a spark and it died quickly under the
Captain’s glare. He nodded slightly and followed Kirin into the night. Only
Ursa watched them go.

***

“What were you
thinking?!”

Sireth said nothing.

“Please tell me,
sidalord
Seer, for I wish to understand
what you hope to accomplish by this game.”

Kirin was pacing a small, furious
circle, fists clenching and unclenching as he sought to rein in his temper.
Several lengths away, the cliffs of the
Shi’pal
dropped into her glacial
waters, sweeping the mountain snows over the falls to far distant valleys. Even
in the bright moonlight, she was as black as the night. The Seer stood staring
at the ground, saying nothing.