Authors: Daniel Arenson
Home. Would this home now be
lost? She had seen the Radian pins upon the northerners—traitors to
their own kingdom. Traveling here, she had seen Mageria's armies
muster east of the Teekat Mountains, camps of many tents, archers,
and swordsmen prepared for war. She had seen Arden fall under Serin's
grip; would her own home now follow? Would this beautiful land burn
in the Radian fire, its trees cut down, its waters dried, and the
pyramid of her father crumbled to dust? As she lay here in this
beauty beside the man she loved, a wave of fear rose within Neekeya,
and she saw in her mind a great eclipse—a Radian sun not only hiding
Eloria's moon but all lands of free folk.
Lying on his back, Tam reached
out to hold her hand. He breathed deeply. "You know, lying here,
Daenor isn't all that bad. I like the birds, and even the dragonflies
are pretty. And the music of frogs and crickets is soothing.
And—Idar's bottom!" He leaped to his feet and drew his sword.
"Neekeya!"
She looked up, yawned, and
stretched. "It's only a crocodile."
The reptile emerged from the
water, placed its front claws upon the islet, and opened its jaws
wide. Tam scrambled backwards, holding his blade before him.
"It's a bloody swamp
dragon!" he sputtered.
Neekeya rose to her feet and
approached the crocodile. "He's cute." She pointed back to
the water. "Go, boy! Back into the water. No food for you here.
Go!"
The reptile snapped its teeth,
but after a few harsh words from Neekeya, it slunk back into the
water and floated away in pursuit of less vocal meals.
"I'll never be able to
sleep here," Tam said.
Neekeya shrugged. "There
are worse animals that could visit. Take that python for example."
She pointed across the marsh. A great snake coiled around branches,
possibly even larger than the crocodile, deep in slumber.
Seeing the beast, Tam paled and
fell to his knees. "I'm definitely not sleeping."
"Good." Neekeya
nodded. "You can watch while I rest."
She pulled off her armor, lay
back down, and closed her eyes. A moment later, she felt Tam lie
down at her side. She peeked through narrowed eyelids to see him
looking at her.
"I set up an alarm around
the islet," he said. "I changed the grass and soil like
Professor Fen taught us. The magic will trumpet if anything larger
than a toad sneaks up on us. I suppose I should sleep a little."
He yawned. "I've never been more tired in . . ."
He was asleep before he could
complete his sentence. Neekeya looked at the muddy Ardish prince. As
a child, she had been taught that the eastern royals beyond the
mountains were cruel, that they looked down upon Daenor, seeing the
swamp-people as little better than Elorians. But now Neekeya had met
Elorians; she had met Madori and Jitomi and she loved them dearly,
and she missed them. And now Neekeya had met Tam, and she loved him
with more fire than a burning forest, more light than a blazing sun.
She held him close, kissed his cheek, and nuzzled his neck. He placed
his arm around her, and they slept entwined together.
When they woke, she built a fire
and they ate a breakfast of grilled frog legs; she chewed hers
lustfully while Tam only nibbled, looking queasy. They kept walking
through the water, brush, and clouds of insects. After several more
hours, they finally saw the pyramids ahead—the great realm of Eetek.
Thirteen pyramids grew from the
swamps, thousands of years old, arranged into the shape of a great
reptile. The pyramids seemed as alive as the swamps. Their lower
bricks were green with thick moss. Higher up the pyramids, the moss
faded, but many weeds, vines, and even trees grew between the craggy
bricks. Birds fluttered above; their droppings stained the slanting
walls. The pyramids were ancient and they showed their age. Those in
the north, Neekeya knew, would mock the southern lords for letting
nature invade their structures; they would call these pyramids
neglected, infested with moss and leaves and wildlife. But to Neekeya
and her family, these halls were not separate from nature but an
extension of it, and the greenery upon the stone only enhanced their
beauty.
She pointed at the largest
pyramid, the one forming the reptile's eye. From this distance, she
could just make out the gateway near the peak. Men in armor stood
there upon a stone ledge. From here they seemed smaller than ants,
but she could hear their horns. The silver trumpets were announcing a
new turn, and the song brought tears to Neekeya's eyes. A song of
home.
"We stand before Eetek
Pyramid, the greatest in these swamps," she said, "and its
song calls us home."
They
walked through the marshlands, stepping over tussocks of grass and
mangrove roots when they could, wading through mossy water when they
could find no steppingstones. Other Daenorians traveled the
marshlands around them. Men oared reed
sheh'an
boats, holding baskets of fish and cages of birds. In the south,
people speared frogs and dived for mollusks. Reed huts grew upon
grassy hillocks, and other huts nestled among the branches of trees.
Here were the commoners of Daenor, clad in
seeken
homespun, a fabric woven of lichen and leaves. Bracelets and
necklaces of copper jangled around their wrists, and beads filled
their hair. They smiled at Neekeya as she walked by, calling
blessings toward her.
Finally she and Tam reached the
great pyramid and stood at its base. Chipped statues, shaped as men
with crocodile heads, guarded a staircase that climbed the pyramid's
eastern flank. The pyramid rose five hundred feet tall; Neekeya's
father claimed it was the tallest structure in the world. Priests
stood upon a stone outcrop near the crest, playing brass horns; the
sound rained down, keening and deep and metallic. At the pyramid's
base stood several guards. They wore scale armor, green cloaks, and
crocodile helms with steel teeth, and they held spears and bows.
"
Latani
Neekeya!" the guards said. "Welcome home,
Latani
!"
"What
does
latani
mean?" Tam whispered.
"It is our word for
'lady,'" she said, feeling her cheeks heat up.
Tam's eyebrows rose so high they
almost touched his hair. "Lady! I didn't realize I was in the
presence of a fine, pampered lady of the court." He sketched a
mocking bow. "My dearest Lady Neekeya, would your ladyship care
for some crumpets, perhaps—"
She
nudged him with her elbow, scowling. "Be quiet! I'm no fancy
lady. I'm no North Daenorian or Ardishwoman. I'm a proud swamp
warrior. It's not my fault your language has no proper word; your
people don't even say the name of my kingdom properly. Just think of
me as a
latani
—a
warrior lady, if you will." She grabbed his hand. "Come
with me and we'll see my father, and don't bow to me again, not even
in jest. The
Deneteki
bow to no one, not even to their lords. We're proud. We're free. In
the swamps, to bow is to be a slave."
And
we will never bow to Serin,
she thought, lips tight.
Even
if all the world kneels before him, Daenor will stand tall, strong,
unbent.
They climbed the stairs up the
pyramid, leaving the marshlands below. Two guards framed every step,
clad in their reptilian armor, their spears decorated with bright
feathers. Craggy limestone statues, shaped as reptiles with hanging
tongues, lined the staircase like bannisters, their backs furry with
moss.
Tam was wheezing and even
Neekeya felt lightheaded when they finally reached the top of the
staircase. Above them still towered a good hundred feet of pyramid,
and before them stretched a ledge of stone. Priests in green robes
stood here, red feathers in their hair, blowing brass pipes. They
lowered the instruments as Neekeya approached and called out
blessings to her.
"Welcome
home,
Latani
Neekeya!" Their old faces creased with their smiles. "May
Cetela, God of Water and Leaf, forever bless you."
"May Cetela forever bless
you too, my friends." Her eyes stung; it had been over a year
since she had seen these dear old men. Abandoning decorum, she raced
forward and embraced the priests one by one. "I'm so glad to see
you again. I missed you. How is my father?"
Their smiles faded and shadows
filled their eyes. Neekeya stepped back, frowning. A chill washed
her.
"Many
difficulties have tested us this past year,
Latani
,"
said Rekeena, the oldest of the priests, a wiry man with a bald,
wrinkled head. "Many troubles have weighed upon your father's
shoulders, though he still leads us wisely, and we still pray to
Cetela. A great menace musters beyond our borders . . . and in our
very kingdom. But it is not for us, priests of Cetela, to dabble in
the affairs of men." He gestured toward the archway behind him.
"Enter, child. We have seen you many miles away, and your father
awaits you."
She glanced at Tam hesitantly,
and she saw the same fear in his eyes. She thought back to the North
Daenorians she had encountered on the journey. She had not spoken of
it to Tam, but she had seen the Radian sigils upon their cloaks.
Radians
. . . in our own land.
She swallowed, nodded at the
priests again, and took Tam's hand in hers. They stepped forward
together, under the archway, and into the shadows.
CHAPTER FIVE:
THE DESOLATION
Madori walked through the
darkness.
She walked alone.
She had thought the Elorian
wilderness was empty. She had been wrong. The stars were a multitude,
a sea of endless, distant life. They clustered above. They swept
across the heavens like rivers of spilled milk. Madori had always
thought the stars were white, but in the wild she realized that they
were silver, blue, red, yellow, and countless other shades. They
moved slowly or quickly, trailing above in an ancient dance. The
constellations guided her: the leaping fish, the running wolf, the
wise old philosopher, the glowing whale. Her parchment starmap was
only a crude thing; the heavens above were a great tapestry whose
secrets she would never fully understand. Headmistress Egeria had
taught that some stars were distant worlds, that life flourished upon
them too. As she walked, Madori wondered if any souls were traveling
their own paths upon those worlds, looking toward Mythimna and also
contemplating distant wanderers.
As a child, Madori would gaze up
at the stars and imagine life on other worlds. She had imagined
worlds of wonder and magic, of dragons and monsters, even one world
where people could turn into dragons. She used to speak of building a
great hot air balloon, of traveling with Tam up to the stars, of
finding a place where day and night cycled, where she wouldn't feel
so strange, so alone, where she could become a dragon—powerful,
blasting out fire, a beast who could feel no pain.
The
silly dreams of a child,
she thought. Now those worlds in the sky seemed so distant, so out of
reach, so cold.
Not only stars filled the wild.
Other wonders filled the night. She had thought the wilderness black
and jagged, but now she saw smooth lavender rocks in a dried-out
riverbed, great indigo boulders shaped as men, and hillside crystals
that reflected the stars. The bones of an ancient creature, as large
as a dragon, rose from black dust, the ribs so large Madori could
walk beneath them like she'd walk under the arches of Teel's
cloister. Upon a cliff, Madori saw fossils of seashells and birds
embedded into the stone, and even a fossilized tree—an actual tree,
like in Timandra. Thousands of years ago, folk would say, the world
had turned, and day and night would cycle around Mythimna. Here
perhaps were the remnants of Old Eloria, the life that had flourished
here and vanished when endless night had fallen.
She did not know for how long
she walked. Koyee had given her an hourglass, but Madori did not
bother using it; it would only tilt over as she walked. Time vanished
here. When she was weary, she paused to sleep. Mostly she walked. She
ate the foods she had taken from home: jars of matsutake mushrooms,
salted bat wings, dry lanternfish, and even fruit imported from
Timandra. She ate little; fear crushed her appetite.
Does
the fire already burn in Oshy?
she thought as she walked.
Does
my father still live? Have Tam and Neekeya found safety? Has Jitomi
found the road south?
Her eyes stung. She hated
people. She hated these bonds of family, fellowship, friendship,
love. When you cared for people, perhaps you were always worried,
always afraid. Even here in the wilderness, she was not a lone wolf.
She was still a daughter, a friend, a soul torn away from those she
loved.
"I will return to you."
Madori drew her sword as she walked, and she raised the curving
blade. Its weight and soft silk grip comforted her. "I will
learn to use Sheytusung, and I will return. I will see you again, my
parents, my friends, my Jitomi." She clenched her jaw. "But
not before I drive this blade into Serin's heart."
She kept walking, navigating by
the stars, seeking the Desolation, that wasteland of canyons,
craters, and craggy boulders where lived Old Master Lan Tao. The
wilderness spread on. A few scattered mushrooms grew from the soil,
their innards glowing with coiling strands of light. As Madori kept
walking, the few mushrooms became many, and soon she moved through a
great field of lights like a second sky of stars. The mushrooms grew
taller as she traveled—tall as her knees, then her shoulders, and
finally taller than her head. Their stems raced with dancers of
light, and their great heads glowed, lanterns of blue, pink, and
silver, lighting her way. She walked on, feeling small as a spirit, a
mere moth in a forest of light.
She had begun her journey under
a full moon. It was a sliver, a mocking dragon's smile, when Madori
emerged from the mushroom forest and beheld a landscape of black,
jagged hills.
"The Desolation," she
whispered.
Boulders rose like the scattered teeth of giants.
Valleys, craters, and peaks formed a jagged landscape like the ruins
of an ancient city. Walking was slow here. She traveled along coiling
paths, under overhanging stone, and between granite steeples that cut
her hands if she touched them. Glowing eyes peered from inside caves,
but when Madori approached for closer looks, the creatures within
fled deeper into their lairs, and she dared not enter after them.
Bats fluttered over her head, moving between hidden eyries. The
towers and peaks of stone hid most of the sky, and hills became
mountains, cruel and sharp and steep. She kept walking, knowing she
was close now. They said the old master lived in a cave, and every
time she saw glowing eyes, she wondered if it was him watching her.