City of Death (11 page)

Scirye glanced with satisfaction at the vizier's guards milling about in a confused mass above them. Then she inclined her head toward the princess. “Your Highness, we really need to leave now to catch the true thieves.” For Leech and Koko's sake, she used English rather than the New Tongue.

“We know all about Roland and Badik,” the princess replied, switching to flawless English. “Your parents received a long telegram from Lady Miunai and they shared it with me.”

Lady Miunai was the mother of their friend, Roxanna, whom they'd met when they'd chased Roland to the Arctic wastes.

“So you already know that it's urgent we reach the City of the Dead?” Scirye asked.

“That was the other thing I was debating with my brother and the vizier,” the princess replied. “My brother agreed to dispatch troops.”

“Then we can go home,” Koko whooped.

“Roland and Badik still haven't been caught,” Bayang said grimly. “Their airplane might be at the airport.”

“I've already made inquiries and they're not there,” the princess said. “They might have landed in some deserted area. But before we can deal with them, we need to get the charges against you dropped.”

Leech bristled. “We're not thieves.”

“You must be Lord Leech,” the princess said. “I know you aren't.” She smiled apologetically. “I'm afraid the vizier is trying to hurt me by hurting my friends.”

“I could send him a rash,” M
ā
ka suggested. “Just a teeny patch but in a very uncomfortable place.”

The princess glanced at the sorceress. “That would hardly become a follower of the True Path, now would it.”

M
ā
ka paled. “You know about me?”

“The Keeper warned me about you as well.” The princess smiled.

As they descended, Scirye's other friends introduced themselves, though the princess already seemed to know a good deal about them as well. Between Lady Miunai and the Keeper, there didn't seem to be much that Princess Maimantstse did not know.

 

18

Scirye

They landed within a small courtyard of green and blue tiles that showed Salene the moon god in helmet and armor leading their ancestors, who once called themselves the People of the Moon, against their enemies, the Huns.

Graceful Greek columns stood at the front of Princess Maimantstse's palace, but the statues decorating it were a mixture of Greek, Kushan, and Indian deities.

As soon as Scirye climbed down from her griffin, she started to run toward her parents, but Kles fluttered in front of her. “Wait for the princess to give permission.”

The princess waved her hand. “Of course you may.”

“Thanks, Maimie,” Lord Tsirauñe said, using the princess's affectionate nickname. “Welcome home!” And then he was engulfing Scirye in his strong arms and lifting her from the ground.

Hugging her father was like hugging a tree trunk, and she felt a momentary pride. The griffin master might be part of the court, but he was no soft courtier. Daily flying had kept him fit, though he flew not for the exercise but because it was as necessary to him as breathing.

When her father had set her back on her feet, Scirye put a solicitous hand on her mother's arm. “Are you all right, Mother?”

“That's what I asked her,” her father grumbled as he stepped aside to let her mother have a turn.

Lady Sudarshane's hair fluttered beneath the edges of her leather flying cap as she embraced her daughter. “I'm not going to stay in a hospital like some porcelain doll when my daughter might be in danger.” At the moment, she didn't seem like the poised, elegant diplomat that Scirye had always known but the hard-flying Pippal she had been before she had married.

Scirye searched her mother's face for some sign of pain, but even though there wasn't any, Scirye knew her mother had an iron will that could cover up any hurt.

“How did you get here?” Scirye asked.

“I flew home by plane,” her mother said, “with Nishke.”

Scirye thought of her brave, brilliant sister and felt as if there were a hole in her heart now that would leave her incomplete for the rest of her life. “I miss her so much.”

“So do your father and I.” Her mother caressed her cheek, comforting her daughter just as she had done when Scirye was small. “But at least we have you.”

Guilt and grief rose up like a tide within Scirye. “I should have been at Nishke's funeral.” She almost sobbed with remorse on the last word. “Or at the hospital with you.”

Her mother squeezed her even tighter. “You were there in spirit.”

Her father patted her on the shoulder as if soothing a yearling. “You were doing what Nishke would have done if she were alive—chasing after the thieves.” Her father was a man of few words, more comfortable with his griffins than with humans, so this was a great compliment.

“If half of what Lady Miunai's telegram said about your adventures is true, you must have been terrified.” Her mother tenderly brushed a strand of hair from Scirye's eyes.

“I was,” Scirye admitted. When she saw the worry lines furrowing her parent's foreheads, she realized that while she had been feeling bad for neglecting her mother, Lady Sudarshane had been feeling the same about Scirye.

Clasping her mother's hand, Scirye tried to comfort her. “But I wasn't alone. And … and I also saw such wonderful things.” There were so many marvelous memories to share with her parents that the words came out in a rush. “I rode on a river of lava with Pele the goddess underneath the earth. And I wish I could show you the frozen sea up north with the winter moon shining on it. Or the dancers, oh, the dancers.” She felt her heart ache at the very memory of the ribbons of light gliding to a tune only they could hear.

But there was only one part of her adventures that concerned her parents the most. “Lady Miunai wrote that you went into a coma after the goddess sent you a vision.” Despite her best efforts, Lady Sudarshane's voice trembled slightly as she inspected Scirye for more signs of divine damage. “Are you feeling better now?”

Scirye felt her parents anxiety swell around her like a balloon, and she was sorry to upset them so much. “Yes.”

Her father cleared his throat. “The Lady Miunai also said the goddess marked you with a sign of her favor.”

Scirye pulled off her glove. “I guess you could call it that.”

Her parents stared uncomfortably at the “3” glowing on their daughter's palm.

Lady Sudarshane cradled Scirye's marked hand as if it were a piece of delicate porcelain. “It looks like someone branded you. Does it hurt?” she asked, concerned.

Scirye slipped her hand away from her mother's and turned it over so the sign of the goddess's favor was hidden. “No, we think it's a clue. It might mean that Roland is looking for three arrows at the City of Death. We have to go there as soon as we can.”

The princess had waited patiently while her parents had welcomed her, but she now interrupted. “First, though, we need to get these ridiculous charges dismissed. So, I'm sorry to break up your reunion, but I'm afraid I need to discuss strategy with your parents.”

Scirye and her parents reluctantly broke their embrace. As she stepped away, Scirye bowed to the princess. “I'm sorry for all the trouble we're causing, Your Highness.”

“I owe that much to a hero of the empire,” the princess said and then turned to Kles's kinsmen. “We are grateful for all the aid you have given Lady Scirye. So let me offer you all the hospitality of the citadel after your long journey.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Captain Warpamo said with a stiff bow, “but with the lyaks roaming our lands, we need to get back.”

They rose with great flaps of their wings that sent dead leaves and stray bits of snow swirling about. Árkwi and the imperial griffins accompanied them, separating from Kles's kinsmen after a hundred feet to bank away toward the imperial eyrie.

As they stood watching them disappear, a bearded, dark-skinned man in a quilted blue silk coat bowed low to the princess. “Your Highness,” he said in the Old Tongue, “the rooms are being prepared for your guests just as you commanded, but the dragon's will take a bit longer.”

Kles cleared his throat. “Please speak English as a courtesy to our friends.”

The bearded man bowed to the lap griffin and answered in English. “As you command, Master Klestetstse.”

His obvious respect was such a contrast to the attitude of his own clan that it was no wonder Kles preferred the citadel to the eyrie. Here his intelligence and learning gave him status in the human court, not his size and strength.

The princess smiled at Scirye and her friends. “This is my steward, Nanadhat. Just tell him what you need.”

“Anything?” Koko squeaked with excitement.

“Don't drool on the floor, buster,” said a badger dressed in a light green wool robe. “Someone has to mop it up, and that someone is usually little old Momo.”

Wetting a paw, Koko hastily tried to slick down some tufts of fur. “Just how did a doll like you wind up here?”

“I was in a magic show.” Lifting a paw grandly, Momo struck a pose. “I was Mademoiselle Fifi, the Girl with a Thousand Faces. But while we were in Bactra our scummy manager took a powder with all our dough. The show broke up and, times being what they were, I took a job here, and boy, was I glad of it. So what'll it be? Drinks? Snacks?” She sniffed the air and added disapprovingly, “Baths?”

“Momo”—Nanadhat frowned—“how many times do I have to tell you not to be so familiar with Her Highness's guests?”

“Aw, have a heart. I haven't seen another tanuki in a long time,” Momo said. Tanuki was another term for badger.

The princess wrapped her arm protectively around the badger. “Let Momo be, Nanadhat. It's refreshing to have someone who gets to the point.”

Momo grinned insolently at the steward and then tapped the charm that the griffin mages had placed on Koko. “Is this a price tag or what?”

Scirye took advantage of the princess's good mood. “Your Highness, are these anti-magic charms really necessary?” She indicated the paper charms on Bayang and M
ā
ka as well as Koko.

“No, of course not.” The princess motioned to Nanadhat. “Send for the High Mage to remove them.”

Scirye held out the stiletto the Kushan consul had given her to defend herself during Badik's raid on the museum in San Francisco. “Would you see that Prince Etre gets this back?”

As she took it, the princess smiled. “I'm sure he'll tell me to give it back to you, but it might be wise if you give me all your weapons.”

Koko and Leech surrendered the throwing axes they had taken from the museum, giving them to a servant. But Leech said nothing about his armbands.

The princess raised her eyebrows when she saw the small throwing axes. Though the shafts were decorated with rubies and gold inlay, the blades themselves were of old steel. She knew them as precious antiques, but she said smoothly, “The Kushan Empire thanks you for returning their treasures.”

Scirye wondered silently,
But will the vizier let the empire stay grateful?

 

19

Leech

Leech watched Sciyre and her parents enviously. Abandoned as a baby, he had never experienced a family, only read about them. Was he a monster too like the Voice? Was that why no one loved him?

The Voice, however, was disgusted.
Look at the fool. She'll learn they don't mean it.

What makes you so suspicious?
Leech asked the Voice.
They love her.

There's no such thing as love,
the Voice said bitterly.

Leech, though, wanted desperately to believe there was nothing fake about what he was seeing. Koko was busy flirting with Momo so he turned to the dragon. “Was your family like Scirye's, Bayang?”

“Dragons express their love differently,” Bayang explained. “They don't hug; they rub their necks against one another instead.” Bayang's claw rasped as she scratched a scaly cheek. “But to be honest, I don't recall my life with my family very well. I was only a hatchling when I went away to train as a warrior. You, Scirye, Koko, and Kles have been more of a family to me than my blood kin. We've depended on one another when we were desperate, laughed at the good times, and shared what little food we had. To me, that's the definition of family.”

So Bayang hadn't had much more family life than Leech. “Did you always want to be a warrior?”

Bayang's mouth twisted in a grimace, and as the boy listened with horror to all the suffering and death Badik's invasion had caused, he wanted to fling an arm about her neck to show his sympathy.

But the dragon was too proud to want a mere human's sympathy so he just stared at her as her mind wandered in another time and place. “After that, I made a vow to grow strong to defend my clan so it would never happen again.

“No wonder you want to kill Badik,” Leech said.

She's just trying to make you feel sorry for her so you'll let your guard down.
There was a childish, frightened tremor to the Voice.

Annoyed, Leech snapped at the Voice.
Stop being such a baby
.

You're the baby,
the Voice shot back petulantly.

It was just the kind of interchange Leech had heard in the orphanage's nursery.

“Did I say something wrong?” Bayang asked. “Why are you frowning like that?”

“No, it's nothing you said. I was thinking of something else.” Leech paused and added, “Just how old was Lee No Cha when he died?”

“Much younger than you.” Bayang looked away guiltily. “But I had no part in that first death.”

Just in all the others,
the Voice complained.