Dragonfly: A Tale of the Counter-Earth at the Cosmic Antipodes (9 page)

17 Maze of Fear

I was wandering through a brick maze. I had escaped the black bowels of the city, leaving the songlines behind. The place where I was now was like an abandoned termite nest with crumbling passages running in all different directions. Gravity was the only thing that told me which way was down.

As I went forward something broke the palpable silence. I stopped to listen. The noise grew, a steady string of shrill curses. I followed it like a thread to where light showed around a corner. I crept up and peered out from the shadows.

Three men in scrap-iron armor were standing around a bound prisoner who was wriggling on the floor. It was Maruch, the helot.

I stepped into the sphere of lamplight. The warriors turned and saw a mysterious, muzzled apparition, bound in iron and streaked with blood, with a tube of argent light at his breast and a murderous poniard in his hand, magnified by a black shadow behind him that shuddered with its own life. They fled with their lantern.

I stepped over and cut Maruch’s bonds. “Thanks, friend, thanks,” he said, chafing his wrists. His eyes kept flicking toward my dagger. “Haven’t we met somewhere before?” He smiled ingratiatingly, showing his fangs.

“Yes,” I said, standing over him.

His eyes flew open wide. He tried to scramble away, but I was already on him. He fell limp, feeling the point of my poniard against his neck. He began to whimper and tremble. “Don’t kill me, oh, please don’t kill me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I said. “The old woman is dead.”

“Dead? You mean you—”

I shook my head. “They claimed to be from the Cheiropt.” I released Maruch and allowed him to sit against the wall. “Where were they taking you?”

“The Misfit.”

“The Misfit! You mean those men—” I looked down the way they had gone and took an involuntary step.

“Don’t leave me here in the dark!” Maruch wailed, throwing himself at my feet.

“But I need to follow them.”

“You want the Misfit? I’ll lead you there.”

“I’ve been told he’s difficult to get to.”

“There’s ways.”

“Why would you risk getting caught again?”

“I’ll just take you close enough to point out the direction.” His voice became shrill. “I’ll die if you leave me here in the dark. It would be murder. You’d be
murdering
me.”

I looked down the tunnel. “So be it,” I said. “Lead the way. Just remember that I have an answer for treachery now.”

The helot got to his feet and we set out.

“So,” I said as we went along, “you’re the one who found the old woman her misfits.”

“Not exactly. You know. You want something done, Maruch does it for you. I did business with her now and then.”

“Where’s Gehud?”

“Oh, you won’t be seeing him no more.” He nodded the way the Misfit’s men had gone.

“Why were they taking you?”

“Eh? Oh. I don’t know. They never told me that.”

“You’re lying,” I mused. “Why are you lying? What reason could you have to lie to me?” I thought about what the man in Granny’s mart had said. Maruch glanced at me and then looked away quickly. I grabbed him and set the point of my dagger against his throat. “It has to do with me, doesn’t it? What’s the idea? Is the Misfit asking about me?”

The helot began to blubber again, mumbling inarticulately. “Yes or no,” I insisted. He nodded. I released him. When I spoke again I was surprised at the hardness in my voice. “I don’t know what you’re planning, Maruch. But don’t doubt that I’ll be able to pay you back for a betrayal in the twinkling of an eye, whatever happens to me.” He nodded again, sniffing. We went on.

I noticed that that the helot had a strong, unpleasant smell, a mixture of decay, sweat, and urine. It was the smell of fear. “Why are you afraid of the dark?” I asked. “I thought you helots liked the dark.”

Maruch answered in a low, quavering voice. “Never complete darkness. There are things down here. Light keeps them away.” He tried to smile. “You really are new-hatched, aren’t you? You, ah, you still trying to find the secret of life?” He shied away, as if expecting a blow.

“I’ve been detained here,” I said, “but I’ll be on my way soon.”

“To Narva, eh? Don’t be too sure. It’s not so easy to get around in Enoch.”

“I’ve discovered that,” I said. After that we went on in silence.

*          *          *          *          *

The brick maze had fallen behind. We had ascended into a network of basements of abandoned high-rises.

Maruch drew to a stop. “Here,” he said. “This is part of the Misfit’s district. Those stairs go up to the street. When you get to the top, you’ll see a wall built between the buildings. That’s the Cheiropt’s wall. Head away from it. Stay out of sight. I’ll come out after you and go the other way.”

“Thank you,” I said.

Maruch laid a moist paw on my arm. “Try to stay alive, Bronze. You’re just crazy enough to go far in this place.”

I climbed the tiled staircase to the street. The avenue was a canyon of limestone flowing with a river of refuse. A fortified wall ran across it. A hoplite in black armor paced along it behind a parapet. As soon as he was out of sight, I crept the opposite way.

Maruch emerged a moment later. I hid in a doorway to watch. The helot went toward the great wall. The hoplite strode back into view, wielding something like an axe with a circular blade. He pointed it, saying something I couldn’t make out. Maruch began flailing his arms and shouting. The guard issued a second warning. Maruch, still trying to explain himself, took a step forward. The disk in the hoplite’s weapon shot out and returned to the haft. The helot fell back into the refuse, his brains tumbling out like spilled curds. I waited until the guard was gone, then continued on my way.

It was daytime—late afternoon, I thought—but the sky was overcast, and the overhanging towers filled the street with gloom. It seemed a paradise to me. It had been weeks—I could hardly tell how long!—since I’d found myself in Hela, since I’d last felt the wind on my face, seen the open sky. I exhaled, filling my lungs with the dank city air as though I stood in a high cleft of the mountains.

As I went forward the light increased slowly. I was nearing an open place. When I reached it I found that the street ended, breaking off as at the brink of a cliff. Beyond it was a wide, deep pit, and then another wall of towers.

I went more cautiously now. A carved limestone balustrade ran along the edge. I stepped up to it and looked out.

The pit held a neglected necropolis overhung by the beetling foundation and the towers above it. Huge nimlathim like black umbrellas soughed balefully in a sultry breeze. Rutted stone avenues ran between their feet, crisscrossing a crowded wilderness of crumbling mausoleums. A viaduct of black iron spanned the abyss from east to west, borne on black iron pylons. Wet clouds were moving in from the sea.

“Lay your blade on the balustrade and turn around,” a sonorous voice said. I did as I was told. I was surrounded by men with crossbows. They all wore scrap-iron armor like the men in the tunnel. Their faces were hidden behind metal masks.

18 Necropolis

“What do you want here?” asked the man who had spoken, the leader. He was like a small giant, a head taller than the others, but proportioned like a dancer. His hands were white and refined-looking.

“I want to see the Misfit,” I said.

“Why?”

I shrugged. “I heard he wanted to see me.”

The giant considered this. “Step away from your knife, and we’ll take you to him.”

“I give it into your keeping, and yours alone,” I said. “If my intent proves honorable, return it when you see fit.” I stepped away from the poniard.

“So be it,” said the giant, slightly amused. He picked up the blade. It was like a wand in his hand. “You should join us,” he said. “I like your mettle.”

I smiled. “Perhaps it’s you who should join me.”

The men muttered, but the leader only gave a strange, low laugh. “What is your name?”

“Amroth. Yours?”

“Call me Jairus.”

At a sign from their leader, the men began filing down a staircase to the cemetery. Jairus and I walked side by side behind them. Sea mist was beginning to fall, and the limestone steps were slippery.

“Do you have a reason for hiding your identity from me?” I asked.

Jairus bent his masked face toward me and gave me a long look. “I might ask the same of you,” he said lowly.

We reached the foot of the foundation and went on through the necropolis, making for a step pyramid at the center. People came out to stare at me. There were men, women, and children, all eccentric in one way or another. Among them were helots and phylites and half-breeds, and members and mixtures of other strange races.

Jairus saw me looking at them. “We’re all misfits here,” he said, “misbegotten, with no phyle among the phylites, no corner among the helots. Some are half-breeds. Others are sports or prodigies. But we all belong to each other through not belonging elsewhere.”

“Where do you live?”

“In these tombs. And in the towers surrounding, which are but the tombstones of Enoch.”

“How do you live?”

“We trade in things outlawed by the Cheiropt. Mescat. Hebenum. Live concubines. Prophetesses. We raid and slaughter the cattle of Enoch, the phylites, and live on the spoils. They call us a tumor and try to contain us, but this is one case in which the body and not the tumor is the cancer. One day, when we’re strong enough, we’ll break out and go found our own kingdom.”

“Your children are the first I’ve seen in Enoch.”

“Our society is composed of cells. Each man is responsible for his own household. What the Cheiropt has forgotten, or affects to forget, we remember: a people without individual responsibility is a people without greatness. It spreads out flat, like a body without bones.”

We had reached the pyramid. It was draped with carpets of moss that dripped in the mist. Jairus led me up the steep staircase with two of his men. The rest dispersed. The square room at the top housed a seat of black iron set against the back wall. Braziers smoked in the gloom. The two guards took their places on the surrounding platform. Jairus and I went inside.

He held his arms out while his wives unstrapped his armor. Then he took off his mask and seated himself on his throne. His face was thin and sallow, his nose long and pointed. His eyes were larger than an ordinary man’s and had a sleepy, vicious look to them. A thick brown mustache curled over his cruel lower lip. Parted hair hung in wavy tresses upon his shoulders. His limbs were long and lean and white like ivory.

“So,” he began, “it seems that—”

“You must forgive me,” I said, swaying where I stood. “You may have noticed—”

“Of course,” said Jairus. “Forgive me.” He clapped his hands. A woman entered. “Tell Gerrich I need him. He should bring his tools. Also, prepare a bit of something for our friend here. And have a chair brought.” He smiled, showing his sharp, white teeth. “No time to observe formalities, eh?”

“I was in such a hurry, I forgot to bring the keys.”

A girl rushed in with a chair and rushed back out again. I sat down. A moment later, Gerrich, a professional pick-lock, was working at my mask. With relief I felt it fall away from my face. Servants came in with a table and a tray of fruits and cured fish and a jar of water. I fell to while Gerrich worked at my harness. Jairus waited genteelly while I finished my repast. Gerrich got the harness off and went out at a nod from his master.

I pushed back from the table. “Thank you,” I said.

Jairus smoothed his mustache. “Tell me what I can do for you, Amroth. Because, frankly, I can’t imagine why you’ve come here.”

“You just offered me a place, didn’t you?”

Jairus flashed his teeth. “Is that why you’ve come?”

“Not exactly. But I am a misfit. The other kinds of work I’ve found in Enoch haven’t been to my liking. But then, you knew that, didn’t you? I’ve been in your service up to now anyway. In a certain capacity.”

“Hardly. I take my tenants as I find them, Amroth. She wasn’t in my employ. I heard she had some trouble with the Cheiropt, incidentally.”

“Is that what it was?”

He flicked a speck of dust from his doublet. “What happened to her?”

“She’s dead. I buried her in the underworld of this city of yours.”

“Her and her, ah…”

“Yes. The ghulim took care of the one. Granny succumbed later. They were dependent on each other, it seems.”

“Pity. I was always rather fond of the little one. In fact,”—here he looked me in the eye—“she may have had something to do with my, ah, sponsorship of her sister.”

“You are munificent,” I said.

Jairus spread out his hands. “A man makes his way through the world as he finds it. You know that as well as I do. Men of action can’t afford to be idealists. The time is coming, though, when the contradictions forced on us by Enoch will be left behind forever.”

“I wonder,” I said. “I have a friend who believes it futile for a man in the Cheiropt to try to fight against it. Even if he seems to escape, he only extends its boundaries.”

“That proposition will be put to the test soon. Now it’s you who must forgive me. I have many things to attend to. Did you wish to enter my service? Certainly you have the credentials. You’ll find that your reputation precedes you here.”

“I am the Phylarch of Arras,” I said. “I can swear fealty to no man. Let us say that I shall consider becoming your ally.”

Jairus sneered. “I will accept that, Amroth. For the time being.” He clapped his hands. One of his wives, a pretty young woman with dark red hair, appeared. “Amroth will be staying with us here for a time. Show him to the tomb of old Thelon. See that he is made comfortable.”

I began to follow her out. The door was a square of purplish gloom. Day was drawing to a close.

“One more thing,” said Jairus. I turned. He handed me the poniard hilt-foremost, and also the nephridium lamp.

I received both and bowed. “Thank you,” I said. I went out with his wife.