City of Death (31 page)

Read City of Death Online

Authors: Laurence Yep

Kat and her griffin had taken the south wall, which faced what remained of the temple platform, and the excavation just in front of it actually made it even more difficult for attackers. Wali was defending the west wall with Tute and M
ā
ka, who had armed herself with a lyak spear. Oko and her griffin would guard the north wall with the columns standing behind it. The big Pippal had also stuck the imperial battle axes into her belt for close combat. As big and heavy as they were, she could swing each in a hand. Scirye's parents and Árkwi had remained at the east wall to face the guardsmen.

Scirye, Kles, Leech, Koko, Kwele, and Wali's griffins were the reserve, ready to react to any attacker who got over the walls. And considering how few defenders were on the wall, that would probably happen very quickly. Leech on his flying discs and Kles would be the strongest part of the team as the two invalid griffins, though determined to fight, could barely move.

The Pippalanta and Scirye's parents were firing steadily now, empty cartridges clinking on the stone as they fell and the cold air was thick with the smell of gunpowder.

Kles curled himself from her left shoulder, around her neck, to her right shoulder so that he could squeeze her with all the strength and fierce love in his small body. And then he dropped away, fluttering his wings so that he rose upward until he was overhead.

Even through the stones of the platform, she felt the pounding of many feet—as if the mountainside had turned into a giant drum. And the howls and shouts merged into one loud, thunderous roar, as if tidal waves were crashing down upon them.

With no time to re-load their carbines, the Pippalanta had picked up their lances, which they were using to deadly effect. On the west and south walls, the two griffins were screaming their battle cries as they raked attackers off the walls. On the east wall, her parents had abandoned their carbines for their lances as well, and Árkwi was battling a griffin who had fluttered up on the parapet. A sudden sweep of her mother's lance caught the attacker in the side and he toppled backward.

Suddenly she heard a dragon shout,
“Yashe!”

And Bayang rose in all her glory—and rose and rose as she swelled in size. She had too many wounds to move with her usual grace and speed, but she could still use her tail, claws, and fangs to deadly effect.

Leech's elbow nudged her. “I told you she was alive.”

“I've never been so glad to be wrong,” Scirye said.

On the north wall, Oko was swinging the great battle-axes as easily as if they were small hatchets, and on the west Tute was snarling and spitting from the top of the wall as his claws struck at the lyaks. M
ā
ka held her spear in her left hand while darts of fire flashed from her right as she shouted spells with a strong, confident voice. Her magic couldn't have improved at a better time.

“It's our turn first,” Leech said. There was a wild look to his eyes as he sped forward, raising his weapon ring.

Koko, with a lyak axe, ran after him.

Scirye's heart swelled with pride at her companions' bravery, but she reminded herself that her job was to help the others, so she forced herself to look for another trouble spot. To the east she saw two Wolf Guards rise into the air on griffins, but the winds were blowing harder than before and a sudden gust slammed them together in midair and they fell out of sight.

The columns partly screened off Oko and the attackers at the north wall. But as the big Pippal fought two lyaks at once, a third climbed up and began reaching for a throwing axe in his belt.

Scirye took a breath. It was up to her now.

“Let's go,” she said to Kles as she charged forward.

“Tarkär, Tarkär!”
The little griffin was in his full battle fury, fur and feathers puffed out, eyes wild, as he shot forward like a tawny missile.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the two invalid war griffins try to follow, but the best they could do was a stumble.

“We'll take this,” she said to them as she ran forward. “You wait for the next problem.” The dagger felt slippery in her sweaty palm and she scolded herself for not wiping it on her clothes first.

As the lyak got ready to throw the axe at the unsuspecting Oko, Kles struck him full in the face. He pitched forward with the small, berserk griffin clinging to him. The fall stunned Kles and the lyak snatched the griffin away from his head as he sat up.

Scirye was so afraid for her friend that she did not stop to think about what she was doing. She simply lunged forward with all the force she could muster in her dagger arm.

The next thing she knew, the lyak was at her feet and she was cradling Kles in one arm and a bloody dagger in the other.

“Lady!” Oko yelled.

Looking up, she saw that another lyak had mounted the wall and was about to thrust at her with his spear.

As the triangular spearhead shot toward her, she instinctively jerked her dagger up. Metal rang on metal as the blades met, her arm tingling at the contact. Then the dagger flew from her fingers when the lyak twirled his spear.

With a howl of triumph, the lyak leaped down from the wall and lunged at her with a spear.

Scirye glimpsed a sacred axe whistle through the air and into her attacker as she dodged backward. When she bumped into something hard, she realized she'd forgotten about the broken temple columns

Despite the leather covering her palm, she felt the marble go instantly from icy cold to warm against her palm, and her gloved hand began to burn like a lantern. The column began to vibrate beneath her touch and she was blinded by a flash of scarlet light.

The next moment, she was holding a slim, long cylinder.

Puzzled she brought her hand back in front of her and saw the arrow. It was almost a yard long and fletched with white feathers at the end. At the front was a wicked arrowhead with four barbed prongs. But this was no fragile antique. The wood of the shaft wasn't brittle but as strong and supple as the day it had been carved, and the bronze arrowhead gleamed brightly without a hint of the green patina that came with age.

Still holding the arrow, Scirye used her teeth to pull the glove from her right hand. The mark of the goddess was glowing on her palm. The “3” had been a clue all along, but the arrows had not been inside the temple, they were the temple, disguised as marble pillars. She'd mistaken the feathers for the palm leaves of a capital.

“Get back!” Oko shouted as she shoved Scirye away. When the column had transformed, it had left a gap in the wall and a lyak had already jumped into the breach. Even as the giant Pippal swung her axes, the ground began to shake.

Not only did the hastily constructed walls of their fort begin to tumble down, but the temple platform as well.

 

58

Bayang

Bayang had managed to keep her balance during the earthquake. She already knew what she would see when she twisted her head around. Her friends now stood exposed with their former walls scattered about their feet and paws.

She wheeled around, swinging her tail at about a yard above the ground. It was like sweeping an area with a telephone pole and guardsmen and thugs went flying.

Her great size would be as dangerous to her friends as to her enemies, so even as she climbed onto the temple platform, she began to shrink.

Some guardsmen and thugs had snuck around her on the north and south and were joining the lyaks surging onto the platform. Her friends' griffins had disappeared under swarms of lyaks. Kat and Oko were standing back to back, surrounded by a circle of foes. Wali was backing toward them as she battled two thugs with curved knives.

Lord Tsirauñe spun around with a cry as a bullet hit his shoulder. Lady Sudarshane fell clutching her right side. A bleeding Árkwi stood over them protectively, screaming his defiance.

There was no sign of Scirye, Kles, Koko, M
ā
ka, or Tute. Where was Leech?

She tossed a guardsman to the side then a thug. She did not bother to grab a lyak who tried to bar her way but simply ran over him. Then she saw Leech spinning in the air as a lyak grasped either ankle.

“No!” she shouted as a guardsman thrust his rifle's bayonet up at the hatchling. He spun just in time, deflecting the blade with his weapon ring and then knocking his attacker to the side on the backswing.

As she tried to gallop to his aid, four enemy griffins charged full tilt into her left side. It was like being hit by a truck and she toppled over onto her side. She grunted when her many wounds smacked against the stones.

And then lyaks, guardsmen, thugs, and griffins were piling onto her.

 

59

Scirye

The temple floor had collapsed into piles of rubble so she lay on her back on the still trembling ground. As a thug held his dagger against her throat, she felt the grief rise in her like a dark, choking tide. First Nishke and now her parents and her friends. Poor Kles was awake again, but a lyak knife was pressed against his neck too. Her own dagger was gone.

When she saw thugs and guardsmen dragging M
ā
ka and Tute over to Roland, she shouted, “Let them go!” The lyak snarled something and pressed the blade closer against her skin and she stopped.

Nanaia, where are you?
Scirye called in despair.

Another lyak pried the arrow from her hand and trotted over to present it to Roland. He was wearing his stolen treasures. Strapped to his back was Yi's bow, which Uncle Resak had used as a staff. Around his neck was the bowstring that had been part of Pele's necklace, and on his finger was the pointed archer's ring.

When the lyak barked something in his own tongue, a guard officer acted as an interpreter. “This thing says he saw the entire marble column change into this.”

Roland slapped his forehead with a laugh. “That's why these arrows were called monster slayers. They grew larger as they traveled through the air.” He gazed at Scirye and then the “3” glowing through her glove as if the leather was transparent. “So the stories about you are true. You really were picked by the goddess. If you'll change the arrows for me, I'll forget about all the trouble you've caused me and let you and your friends go.”

Scirye's natural instinct was to refuse, but then she thought,
Bayang got her revenge. Now it's time for me to do the same … if I can just get close enough to that pig.

So instead she said, “Only if you promise to let us go afterward.”

“Of course, my dear.” Roland smiled with all the fake sincerity he could muster.

“No, lady,” Kles protested.

“We have no choice, Kles,” Scirye said.

“Release her,” Roland said and when a Wolf colonel translated, the lyak lifted his knife away.

Getting up, she marched straight toward the column on the left, the thug keeping pace with her. A guardsman backed out of her way. Her fingers should have been numb without the glove, but the glow seemed to be keeping them warm.

She had no trouble slapping her hand against the column, closing her eyes against the flare of blinding scarlet light. With her eyes still closed, she whirled around and then opened her eyes again as she ran toward Roland.

As she'd hoped, he and his men were dazed momentarily by the light.

She was five paces away, but it was hard to get traction in the snow and frozen dirt.

Then three yards.

She swung the arm with the arrow back for a thrust, gripping it just behind the bronze head. It was finned on all four sides and with a tip as sharp as the day it was made. She couldn't use it as an arrow but she just might use it like a dagger.

At two yards, Roland began to shake his head as if trying to clear it.

One yard.

Even as she began to stab the arrow at Roland's neck, the ground began to tremble again and she heard a rumbling sound as if a locomotive were charging straight at her. Then the ground tilted sharply underneath her and she fell to her knees.

The earlier tremor had been over in a few seconds. This one went on and on, shaking more and more violently with each passing moment so she stayed on all fours. The whole mountain pulsed with a strange red light that washed over them in waves.

She only dared to breathe when the shaking stopped and the red light faded away.

Suddenly a guardsman swore. “What kind of witchcraft is this?”

He took several steps back from M
ā
ka. A golden light burned within her as if her body were a paper lantern holding an immense candle, a candle that grew brighter by the moment until flames burst from her shoulders and began a flickering dance, the fiery tips taking the shapes of swords and arrows that waved about before collapsing back and then shot out again. Snowflakes did not melt when they touched the strange fire but spun away instead. It was the armor that Nanaia the Avenger wore.

When M
ā
ka-Nanaia sat up, her eyes blazed as if from an inner sun, and wherever she glanced men and griffins sank to their knees in fear and awe. Only Roland remained on his feet. “Shoot her,” Roland yelled to his men as he pulled his own pistol from its holster.

“Fool, haven't you done enough harm?” M
ā
ka-Nanaia's words rasped like steel on a whetstone. She flung up an arm and flame leaped from her fingertips.

With a cry, Roland dropped the pistol. The red-hot metal hissed against the frozen earth. A moment later, he got down on his knees in sullen submission.

M
ā
ka-Nanaia's fiery eyes searched the cringing mob until she found Scirye. “Child of Destiny, you called to me when you were hurt and in need. And I've come at last.”

So Nanaia hadn't deserted her after all. In fact, she'd been with Scirye this whole time. Kles landed on her shoulder and squeezed it with his hind paws so that she remembered to kneel. “But why did you disguise yourself as M
ā
ka?” she asked.

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