“My arm’s broken. I won’t be any good,” Jhoma admitted remorsefully, and I remembered the way it hung delicately at his side before evacuating the Ayotl.
“Use your good arm and do the best you can.”
Micha fashioned his sleeve into a sling of sorts to support Jhoma’s arm until it could heal.
If only Khea were here.
She could break Khasla’s restraints in a heartbeat and move the eight-foot stone that blocked our path. If she were here, I wouldn’t feel responsible for her death; I could concentrate on the task at hand, rather than fight back the grief of not finding her Spark. My own Spark registered the loss like the Turtle weathered the volcano: smashed to bits and sinking rapidly.
“It has to weigh at least five thousand pounds. There’s no way we move this thing,” Khasla said, though his thread showed he was worried he wouldn’t be able to help with the stone lock between his hands.
Regardless of the challenge, we all stood around the stone and pushed against it like ants would have pushed against a boot. It didn’t even come close to moving, and several seconds of exertion offered no progress.
“Damn that’s a big rock,” Micha spouted through his heavy breaths.
No wonder there’s no one guarding us.
“I move the rock.” Tototl said in Nakben and I realized he hadn’t been with us on the first attempt. Of course he didn’t understand my instruction in Madurian. He had stood back and watched us, not knowing we would fail miserably.
The second attempt to move the stone was much more successful with Tototl’s help. Actually he seemed to be doing most of it himself, but we were there to give him a little extra. When our muscles gave out, we could see a three inch gap to the dark corridor on the other side.
“Again,” Tototl said, and I translated for the others. Nine inches, then another push, then fifteen inches. It was enough that we all would have been able to squeeze out, except for Tototl. One final push gave us a large enough space to all slide through. Khasla already had a small flame in one of his bound hands to illuminate the space around us.
With no idea where we were or how we might get out, our only hope was to keep moving, stay together, and try to make our way to the surface. The corridor was a labyrinth of narrow, stone walls and twisted wooden stairs; we chose to ascend each one. Thick boards braced the walls and low-hanging ceiling, as if the builders thought the earth would eventually collapse.
We didn’t meet a single other person before we entered a sunlit room that opened directly onto the streets of Chimalma. It was late afternoon judging by the sun that steadily approached the horizon. Each of us blocked the sun’s rays with a lifted hand and waited for our eyes to adjust after the dimness of the subterranean maze.
“Where is everyone?” Micha asked, though none of us had the answer. A look around confirmed we were the only people on the streets, not even a child in view.
The thoroughfares were as deserted as the underground building. A quick turnaround revealed it was little more than a house;
a house that has an underground labyrinth and holding cells at least six floors down.
What was the purpose of such a place?
I tried to reach a thread out to Khea, but again nothing.
“Lark!”
“What?”
“Did you hear me? Head north to the coast. We can find a ship and get out of here.”
“But–”
Khea.
“We have no way to find her. What do you want us to do?”
It was an easy decision to make. The lives of four other men or the confirmation that Khea was gone. I knew what the right choice was, but my Spark prevented my acceptance. If it hadn’t been for Micha’s hand pulling my shoulder and his anguish at the thought of losing me, I would have burst into every house in Chimalma until I found her–even if there was nothing to find. Micha kept my feet moving north, toward the docks.
The city we had feared so much had a decidedly creepy sense of calm as the sun continued to set; the streets between the dried-mud houses with straw-thatched roofs were empty. All the houses had symbols molded into the mud, similar to those on the stone door in the labyrinth. Quauhtil had said there was no written system for Nakben, but that didn’t explain the birds, fish, and strange people depicted on the buildings.
The sounds of cheers and music began to get louder as we approached some sort of gathering in the center of the city. Not interested in anything being celebrated in Chimalma, we did our best to quickly move on without being seen. I hoped the Chimalmans were too distracted to notice us.
Perhaps we’ll get out of here alive after all.
I knew it was too good to be true. A group of four men approached us from behind, each wearing a strong bracelet. I was able to learn from one that they had been sent for us, their instructions to take us to Yaotl. We must have been targeted as suitable gifts to the dog already. But how had they known how to find us?
Each of the four men carried a feathered spear and a foot-long blade tucked into a sheath in their calf-high sandals. Aside from a black swath of cloth around their waists, none of them wore any clothing. They ran with spears extended in front, but I ran out to meet them.
“Stay here!” I shouted back, not interested in the injured Jhoma or restrained Khasla attempting to participate in combat. And I wasn’t willing to risk Micha.
One of the Nakben attackers was considerably faster than the other three and, fortunately, had only a two inch span of his arm covered in the tattoos. He ran to meet me alone before the others could catch up. Predictably, his spear shot out towards my gut as soon as he got close enough, so it was easy to grab the shaft and pull it free from his hands.
With the spear under my control, the Nakben man glanced at me in surprise, an opening to plunge the spear quickly between his ribs. I had just enough time to use the shaft to block the next spear that flew towards me, and thankfully it left the second attacker with no more than the hand knife from his calf. The length of the spear I still held allowed me to make my jabs without being anywhere close to the range of his blade.
He was quick and his bracelet blocked me almost completely, but when he saw an opening and made the decision to go for it, it was strong enough for me to sense. I blocked immediately and lunged the spear into the meat of his arm before drawing a deep line diagonally across his chest. As he collapsed to the ground, I pulled the knife from his blood-filled hand and slid it into the rear waist of my pants.
By the time I dealt with the second man, the other two attackers had caught up and still held their spears. They were both completely unreadable and had tattoos well past their elbows. I had never fought two men at once before or attempted combat with anything but a knife, but I was determined. If those men had anything to do with Khea’s death or intended my friends for the same fate, then they were in for a major disappointment.
When the third pushed his spear towards me, I raised my own to block and pushed both towards the spot the fourth man aimed. Quickly, I swept my spear shafts in an arcing motion until the two attacking spears were pinned to the ground beneath mine. Each man dropped his spear in a flash and pulled the knife from their sandal.
Much better.
Pushing my own spear toward the ground, I grabbed the knife tucked into my pants and ducked under the first swipe. From a crouch, I turned around with my leg extended to drop the third attacker to his back. Completing my turn, I pulled the knife up enough to plunge it into the thigh muscle of the fourth and jumped to sink it into the chest of the third where he lay on the ground.
With the three men lying helplessly on the ground and the first already dead, I began to move to each in turn and slide the blade into one of their eyes until I felt it hit the solid ground beneath them. Before killing the fourth man, I pulled the bracelet off his wrist and read him cleanly.
He had been on the ship that had collected us; I saw his memory as we were pulled from the sea like drowned rats. He had laughed at Tototl’s attempt to escape, thinking how humorously strong men reacted when their fate had reached them. He wasn’t the feathered man, but he had watched as Khea was taken below to be delivered to Yaotl. He had participated in administering the blows that blacked out the rest of our group.
My anger boiled over when he thought of Khea, marveling at what a splendid offering she would make at the ceremony that evening; that had been three days ago. I heard him disgustingly wonder if she was pure, so as to make a more ideal gift for his dog god. It was then that I let the blade sink into his eye, cutting off the repulsive images but it was too late. They would be seared into my mind forever.
“Lark. Holy shit, man,” Micha said when he came up next to me. It hadn’t taken more than a few seconds to disarm and kill the four men, an impressive feat according to Micha’s thread.
“I couldn’t–”
Leave them alive…
“I’ve never seen you move like that. What were you doing all that time in the Oakwick?” I remembered then that a significant amount of time away from Myxini was spent fighting Avis. Micha had no idea how hard I worked to improve my skills in combat against people I couldn’t read and those that could read me. It brought the image of Khea from the Moonwater to mind, followed by the rock ledge in the woods, and the grove at the end of River Street. I saw her sitting on Jasper with Citrine perched on her shoulder, waving her hand over the snoring Quauhtil, and sleeping soundly next to me on the deck of the Turtle. It was all I could do to stand up and stay up.
Micha’s strong hand grasped my shoulder and I was thankful for his steady grip. I knew he was reeling from her loss as well, but no one could know what I was going through. I knew he loved Iseut and would be destroyed by her death, but this was different in a way I couldn’t explain. My Spark was connected deeply to hers, and I would feel her absence for the rest of my life.
“Come on. We have to keep moving.” Again it was Micha’s grip that pulled me forward and kept me in motion. I held the blood-smeared blade in my hand, and I noticed later that Tototl had picked up one of the spears. The rest of the run through the city was lost as my vision blurred and my mind began to close from the pain.
At some point we reached the docks, apparently missing all the people who were at the center of the city at the ceremony. Dozens of Nakben ships dotted the harbor. Some had the orange sails merchants, or green of transport vessels. Even the blue sails of a regal charter vessel that bobbed on the violet water. Unfortunately, everyone who operated the ships seemed to be in the city center; no one was around to bargain transport to Uxmal.
“What do we do? Can we just take one?” Jhoma asked, though he knew there was no way the five of us could run a ship. Maybe with a small boat and an experienced crew, but most of them had never been on a boat before the Turtle.
“I don’t know. I guess wait for someone to come back. When the captains return, we can barter for passage to Uxmal,” Micha offered.
Tototl pointed to a small ship with green sails nestled between several larger ones. He intended to operate the transport vessel with just the five of us, and he would act as captain.
Thankfully, no one required a translation of his intentions, and we ran over and quickly boarded. There was no disagreement in stealing a ship considering the circumstances. It was empty of any crew and Tototl had the presence of mind to check for freshwater and a small supply of foods. Without Khea, we would have to take what we needed beforehand. A deep, resounding pain began to settle into my chest.
Tototl untied the ropes holding the transport ship to the docks and pushed off to prevent anyone else from being able to board. Once we were too far off shore to be in danger from anyone on foot, he began to instruct the four greenhorn seamen to unfurl the sails and which way to tie them down. I had to put aside my own anguish for several minutes to translate and help with the ropes.
Our Nakben addition had been supremely correct in his selection of the ship. It was small enough for us to manage and simple enough in design to allow us time to learn how to handle it. He took the helm and began to maneuver the ship out of the cove and in the direction I assumed was north, though with the sun completely gone below the horizon there was no way of telling.
The transport vessel we stole from the docks had only one room below deck for the person who was being transported. It had a relatively large and comfortable bed, with decent amenities considering the tiny ship, but there was nowhere else to sleep. Each of us agreed that Tototl should get the room, as he was captain of the ship. The rest of us tried to make ourselves as comfortable as possible on the hard, wooden deck with the sea breeze floating past.
Knowing what types of things go on in Chimalma, we were all relieved to be on our way out, but each of us knew it was too soon to be completely at ease. As the sky darkened and the stars began to shine, Tototl noticeably relaxed as he hoped his worst fear had been avoided. Given his size, strength, and youth, he was correct in his worry; he would surely be a target for sacrifice.
Tototl easily adapted to his new role, and seemed comfortable being responsible for our crew, as small and inexperienced as we were. I briefly wondered if perhaps he had a Spark associated with ships or the sea, but it only brought me back to Khea. She had had control over the water and the wind, fire and earth, thoughts and feelings. None of us could hold a candle to her, and she had been the one we had lost. How was I going to explain it Avis?
Avis.
I hadn’t sent a thread to him since the day we left, but I knew it was well within my Spark to reach him. I wondered if he had been keeping up with us, if he already knew. A moment later, the thread connected to my old friend and mentor, and his agony was nearly a match to my own. He was destroyed when he sensed my read of the attacker’s memories of Khea. He was consumed with empathy for my loss, could feel every ounce of my torment. I easily sensed he had a fair amount of his own grief as well.
Almost at once, I could sense he was reading me as I was reading him, caught in a loop that returned me to my own thoughts and feelings of loss. When he realized it, he immediately produced an image of a copper ring with a hawk molded into the surface–my father’s ring.