Heights of the Depths (20 page)

Gorsham’s instinct was to prevent them from entering Perriz, feeling it to be some sort of ruse under the guise of a sanctuary request. But he didn’t have the authority to make that decision, to fly in the face of stated Firedraque policy. Besides, the Ocular weren’t typically that interested in conquest these days. Not with that simpering fool Nagel in charge. Except Nagel was mostly interested in finding ways to battle the Piri, and yet here was a Piri leading them.

“Are you saying Nagel is dead?”

There were sullen nods from the Ocular.

Gorsham scratched his throat thoughtfully while his tail twitched. Finally he said, “Very well. Sanctuary is granted for the Ocular…but not,” he continued, pointing at Clarinda, “for you.”

“What?” said Berola. There were angry murmurs from the rest of the Ocular. The only one who did not react was the Piri, except to cock one pale eyebrow and smile as if she were not the least surprised.

“Sanctuary is intended for true beings. Not parasites.”

“She is not a parasite,” said Berola heatedly. “She is our friend.”

“She is an animal. She will turn on you sooner or later.” He pointed at her with his sword. “She cannot help it. It is her nature. Whatever you think her motives are…however you may think she is trying to help you…I assure you, she has her own agenda. She may well be a scout for a possible invasion force.”

“My understanding is that scouts generally try to obscure their presence,” said Berola, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “They do not generally walk right in and make their presence known.”

“A spy then. She’s likely a spy.”

“Is that not a determination for the Firedraques to make? It is, after all, their policy. Their city. Not your city. But I forgot: Mandraques don’t have a central city. You’re all nomads because anyplace you settle tends to get destroyed in your endless wars. Some of you serve as bondsmen to the Firedraques, but the rest of you are doubtless out on the plains trying to kill each other yet again.”

“You,” he said to Berola, “know a great deal for someone who knows nothing at all.”

And then the Piri, the one named Clarinda—a revelation surprising in and of itself since Gorsham had never given thought to whether the Piri even had names—said softly, “Berola, it’s all right. I’ll leave.”

“What?” Berola looked stunned, and protests began to well up from the other Ocular.

She put up her hands and they were instantly silenced by the gesture. “Listen to me,” she said. “He is right.” She spoke over the immediate tumult. “He is right. When first I encountered you, my concern was solely for my well-being. Not for yours. For mine. It is my nature to take without any thought of giving. I saw you purely as bodies to shield me against others of my kind.”

“And we did,” spoke up one of the males, the one who had been carrying her. “And it felt good to do so. It felt as if we were accomplishing something.” He thudded his fist into his open palm. “Whatever your motivations, you helped us.”

“Merely as a byproduct. I did not truly care about you. Only about how you could best serve me.” She let out an unsteady sigh. “But you are children. For all your strength, for all your size, for all your bravery…you are children. And children…” She hesitated and then her voice dropped even more, so soft that the Mandraques could scarcely hear her. “Children should be protected.”

Gorsham was paying less attention to her words, though, than he was to her right hand. Without even thinking about it—without even being aware of it, apparently—her hand had drifted to her stomach and rested there for just a second. Her fingertips momentarily brushed against her belly, and then her hand dropped away.

And Gorsham knew. He knew the gesture all too well.

“Children,” Clarinda said, “should not have to live…the way I’m going to have to live. I should not have made you a part of it. It was wrong of me. I did not realize that at the time, or if I did, I managed to rationalize it in my own mind. Now, though, faced with the prospect of you having genuine security, as opposed to the illusion of it that I offered you…there really is no choice to be made. This, my children, is where we part company.”

She drew up her hood, obscuring her face, and turned away from them. Some of them began to protest, particularly the younger ones, but she again raised her hand preemptively and they lapsed into silence once more. Clarinda reached the far end of the bridge and kept walking without looking back.

Berola cast a defiant glare at Gorsham and then with no hesitation, followed her. Clarinda stopped, turned to face her and said, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Going with you.”

“The hell you are. You’re staying here.”

She drew herself up, emphasizing the size disparity. “Make me.”

Clarinda looked as if she were about to argue, and then moaned and shook her head. “Do as you will.” She continued to walk and Berola followed her.

Then the male who she had been riding fell into step behind the two of them. Then another Ocular, and another, and within moments the entirety of the group was walking away.

The Mandraques stared at each other with undisguised amusement and a measure of relief. “Well,” said the lieutenant, “that takes care of that. The last thing we needed is—”

“Wait!” Gorsham bellowed.

The Ocular stopped and looked back to him. And as his fellow Mandraques regarded him in total shock, he said, “The Firedraques have established no parameters as to who may seek sanctuary, and it is not for me to gainsay them, however much my own opinions may be at variance with their policies. All of you, follow me.” He paused and then added, for the benefit of the other Mandraques more than anything else, “Feel free to bring your pet with you.”

His lieutenant whispered to him, “Are you insane? Have you lost your mind?”

“One more word and I rip your throat out with my teeth. If you don’t believe me, speak. I dare you. I beg you.”

His lieutenant said nothing.

“Very wise,” said Gorsham.

the spires

I.

The first thing that Norda
 Kinklash felt she needed to do was properly dispose of the body of New Daddy. She had not lost sight of the fact that she was going to exact revenge on the metal man. He would pay for New Daddy’s death. But there had to be an order to these sorts of things. And before the dead could be avenged, they had to be laid to rest properly.

It had taken her a great deal of time to get down the Scary Tower (as she had come to think of it) to the street level. She had encountered large ornate doors and had pressed her earhole against them, hearing “whooshing” from the other side as if there was a vast tunnel of air on the other side. Norda wasn’t entirely sure what it was or what it looked like, but she knew she didn’t want any part of it.

After many false starts, she had discovered a stairwell that appeared to lead down to the bowels of the Scary Tower. She started taking it. At first she had been extremely stealthy, taking care to make as little noise as possible. Eventually, though, she had grown bored and started bounding between the stairs and the banister in order to pass the time. She even started singing and humming songs to keep her mind occupied, and by the time she finally made it to the bottom of the stairs, she had completely forgotten the mission that she had been so determined to follow up on top.

She reached a dead end in the stairs, and there was a door to the right. It had large red writing over it and some sort of bar in the middle. Norda went over to the writing and, extending one finger, traced the curve of each letter. What she traced was, “EMERGENCY EXIT. ALARM WILL SOUND.” None of it meant anything to her. Finally, once she had meticulously brought her finger around the bottom of the “D,” she pushed on the bar. The door popped open and fresh air wafted in.

A klaxon began to wail.

With a startled shriek, Norda bounded out through the door and slammed it shut. She blinked against the sunlight and then ran from the disturbing blaring, eager to leave it far behind her.

Norda looked up, shielding her eyes against the sun. She tried to see the top of the Scary Tower but couldn’t make it out. It made her aware of just how high up she had been. Anyone else might have been intimidated or shaken by the notion of dangling from such altitude. Norda, however, was not anyone else.

“Look what I did, my brother,” she whispered. “I was above the Damned World. It was all spread out below me, and I was above it all. Nothing could touch me, nothing could hurt me. How I wish you could have seen it.”

Winds whispered to her then, and she was certain that they were saying, 
I saw you, Norda. I saw you, and you were ever so much more clever than the rest of them. I have never been more proud.
 She could not tell if it was really Arren’s voice or her imagination at work. Fantasy and reality had always been such abstract concepts to her that she had trouble staying focused on the line of demarcation.

Her mind wandered back to her home at Firedraque Hall, or at least her unofficial home, bounding around in the bell tower. And she remembered how New Daddy would come to talk to her about…

She gasped. “New Daddy!” Norda had completely forgotten.

Quickly she circled the perimeter of the Scary Tower, having lost her sense of direction and not at all sure where Nicrominus had come down. Part of her was hoping against hope that somehow he had managed to survive the plummet. New Daddy was a magical, wonderful individual, and if anyone could avoid death despite such a catastrophic fall, surely it was he.

Then she heard some sort of snarling. She didn’t know what it was, but when she turned the corner, she found out quickly enough.

Five hairy beasts were grouped around New Daddy’s body.

She knew instantly what they were: dugs. She had seen dugs occasionally in the streets of Perriz, but they had been fairly peaceful and restrained in their conduct. The Firedraques regularly fed them sweet meats and such, and the dugs responded with devotion and affection.

Not these dugs. These dugs were bristling with fur and there was drool trickling down from their jaws. They were various shades of brown and black, and they were busily fighting over the remains of New Daddy that were splattered on the street. Much of his body was still intact, but there was blood everywhere. Two of the dugs were wrestling over some organs that had oozed from his corpse. A third was lapping up some blood that had pooled to one side. Two more of them were squaring off over New Daddy’s body, their tails stiff, each trying to warn off the other and neither interested in giving way.

Upon seeing the tableau spread before her, Norda let out a screech like the damned that brought all the dugs to a halt.

As one, the pack came together, ready to converge upon her.

Norda did not wait.

With a roar of fury, she came right at them, her claws out. As one of the largest of the dugs came at her, something that tasted like extremely bitter saliva welled up in her mouth. She spat it directly at the lead dug. Thick and viscous, it splattered all over the dug’s face. The creature flipped backwards, howling, thrashing about on the ground. A sizzling noise arose and the smell of burning meat pervaded the air.

Norda was taken aback. 
I can do that? I didn’t know I could do that. I don’t think Arren knows either. I wonder if he can. Will he be proud of me or jealous?

She became so lost in thought that she nearly forgot, yet again, the circumstances of her surroundings. But then more dugs came at her. She sprang out of the way and whipped her tail around, wrapping her tail around the throat of one of them. Norda tightened her tail and then yanked, and there was a satisfying snapping of bone accompanied by a startled and very final “yip” from the dug. She tossed it aside with a casual flick of her tail and bared her fangs at the remaining three.

One backed off, but two more came at her from either direction. She dodged to the right, then the left, and then vaulted over them. She landed and as one tried to pivot to face her, it reared up on its hind legs, perhaps thinking it could bear her to the ground with its forepaws. That proved to be a mistake as she swept her outstretched claws across the dug’s momentarily exposed underbelly. Blood jetted from it and entrails spilled out, and the dug flipped over and died before it even realized what had happened.

The fourth dug got lucky. The largest of the pack, it leaped through the air while Norda was still distracted by the one she had just disemboweled. It landed squarely on her, and she was slammed to the ground under the dug’s weight. It howled in triumph atop her, its fetid breath washing over her, and Norda reached up and grabbed its upper and lower jaws with either hand. Realizing its danger, the dug tried to pull away, but it had no chance. Norda gritted her teeth and applied pressure in opposite directions to the dug’s muzzle. The dug struggled in her grasp as its jaws widened, widened, and seconds later Norda was rewarded with a satisfying tearing and snapping as the dug’s mouth was torn apart. The dug made a few halfhearted attempts to claw at her, but they were as much automatic reflex as anything else, and then the creature’s corpse slumped against her. Norda shoved it off herself and stood.

The fifth dug was standing a few feet away, its tail between its legs. It was a patchwork of brown and black, and the smallest of the pack. She recognized it as the one that had been lapping up the blood, keeping clear of the others. It simply stood there with its tongue hanging out, staring at her pathetically.

“What?” Norda demanded to know.

It backed up and lowered its head, looking utterly submissive.

Her eyes narrowing, she continued to watch the dug warily as she sidled over to New Daddy’s body.

“I am so sorry, New Daddy,” she said mournfully. “I so wanted to know you better. There was so many things that I was sure you were going to be able to tell me. And now…now you can’t. Not anymore. You seemed ever so clever, and I will make the metal man pay. I will make him hurt as he hurt you, and hurt me. And I will make sure that you are with me the entire time.”

She lifted his right hand to her mouth and kissed it gently. Then, one by one, ever so delicately, she bit off each of his fingers, crunched the bones thoroughly, and swallowed each one.

One she was done with the fingers, she turned her attention to his hand, and then the rest of the arm. Most of his bones had been shattered by the impact of the fall, so it was not quite as crunchy as it would ordinarily have been.

Then she started on the rest of his body, or at least what was left of it.

It took quite a few hours, although it helped that she was hungry anyway. The birds that she had managed to catch had only gone so far in stilling the grumbling in her stomach. She was relieved to find that his heart was still there, if somewhat pulpy. She set it aside to save for last, as was the custom.

She stripped away the meat from his head but only nibbled at it because she was not particularly fond of head meat. With his skull exposed, she carefully removed his lower jaw. Despite his age, he had kept his teeth nicely sharp, and she admired it briefly before tucking it into her belt.

Norda devoured enough of him to fill up her first stomach and most of her second. Finally she picked up the heart.

“I am sorry that you have died so far from home. May the…” She stopped, searching her recollection. “May the gods guide you in your course. May they bless you and keep you. May the answers that you find be worthy of the questions that we posed. Go in grace.”

It was hard, which was surprising to her, because he had seemed so soft hearted in life.

Finally, when the heart was done, she looked at the remains of the body and wondered if she should bring some of it along for further possible meals. But that seemed wrong to her. Typically there was always more than one Mandraque around to do the honors, so leftovers were not an issue. To eat the deceased as part of the customary rites of passing was part of tradition. To do so over a period of days as hunger demanded…that just seemed undignified. But to just leave him there was wasteful, and she had been taught to abhor waste.

She heard a whimpering and looked toward the remaining dug. He was still sitting there with his tongue hanging out and was looking hopefully toward the remains of Nicrominus.

Norda sighed. “Fine,” she said, and she stepped back and gestured for the dug to approach.

The dug did so tentatively at first, as if suspecting that there might be some sort of trick involved. But when Norda made no move to intercept it, it went for Nicrominus’s remains eagerly. It seemed to Norda as if the creature hadn’t eaten in days. For all she knew, it hadn’t.

“I suppose,” she said softly, “that we all try to pay respects in our own way.”

She remained where she was and watched until the dug ate its fill. There was almost nothing left of Nicrominus by that point except a few stray bones that had somehow managed to remain intact despite the force of the impact. She picked up one and used it to pick her teeth while she watched the dug lap clean as much as it could.

Finally, feeling that everything that needed to be said and done had been accomplished, she turned and walked away with absolutely no clue of where she was going to go or what she was going to do. She wanted to find the metal man, of course, but didn’t know where to look. Furthermore, exhaustion was beginning to weigh heavily upon her. She wanted someplace to rest, but it was a strange and alien city that she was in and she couldn’t imagine where she might feel safe enough to close her eyes.

She heard a clicking of nails and looked down. The dug was next to her, looking up at her with big brown eyes.

“You live here,” Norda said. “Where should I go?”

The dug stared at her for a few more moments and then started down the street. She watched it go, shaking her head. But when she began to turn away and head in the opposite direction, the dug barked at her in a very deliberate manner. It waited for her, its tail wagging.

Curious, Norda set off after it.

Apparently satisfied that Norda was coming along, the dug headed off down the street at a slow trot. Norda followed, marveling at the size of all the buildings. None of them were as tall as the Scary Tower, but even the smallest of them seemed larger than the buildings of Perriz (save, of course, for the Eyeful Tower.) Confident that Norda could keep up, the dug picked up speed and she did so as well. Soon both of them were at a full-out run, and when the dug barked yet again Norda responded with as close an approximation as she could come up with to the dug’s vocalizations. 
It’s teaching me its language. How clever. I wonder if it’s one of the Twelve Races that I haven’t met before.
 She was starting to regret that she had dispatched the others, although perhaps that was a wise thing since they had behaved in ever-so-impolite a manner to her and probably deserved a good disemboweling.

She crossed a number of intersections, and then a statue caught her eye. It appeared to be a statue of a Mort, and he was crouched with a large sphere balanced atop his shoulders. But her passing interest in that quickly gave way when she saw the building opposite it, the building that the dug had stopped in front of. Apparently it was the dug’s home, and the dug was inviting her to share it.

Norda put a hand to her chest and could scarcely breathe. She would not have thought it possible, but there it was: a building that reminded her so much of Firedraque Hall that she felt as if she had returned home. It wasn’t quite as big or majestic, but it was nevertheless formidable. Twin spires straddled the vast front door, and the entire thing seemed carved out of marble. Huge crosses were mounted on the front, and she could make out stained glass windows, further evoking Firedraque Hall back in Perriz.

She wished that New Daddy could have seen it, and then realized that—through her eyes—he was.

The dug paused on the stairs, waiting for her, and Norda scampered up behind it, laughing delightedly as she went.

Norda ran down the vast main hall. There were large scraps of cloth, presumably flags, hanging from either side. It was filled with a musty odor and she ran up to the podium on the front, looking around eagerly. The dug bounced around, barking excitedly, apparently seeking approval from Norda for its bringing her there. Norda absently patted the dug on the head and then turned her attention to finding some stairs.