The Eye of the Falcon (14 page)

“I
wonder if you persuaded them,” Pirra said in a low voice.

Hylas glanced at her. “The one in the cap, what did he say to you?”

“He was defending us. And he seemed to think I . . .” She broke off with a frown.

“That you what?”

“Nothing.” She didn't want to tell him what Deukaryo had said about bringing back the Sun.

They sat side by side with their backs against a rock, while their captors argued over their fate at the far end of the cavern.

A child came and set a waterskin before them. Pirra nodded her thanks, but the child only stared. She was a girl of about eight, in a ragged tunic much too big for her. Her face was pinched with hunger, and in one fist she clutched a grubby toy donkey of plaited straw. It flashed across Pirra's mind that if the Sun didn't return, this child and thousands like her would die.

A sturdy young man came and squatted beside them. “My name is Teseo, son of Deukaryo,” he told Hylas in heavily accented Akean. “You say you must reach the House of the Goddess before the Crows. Our leader says, then you go and we will see what you can do. Me and my father, my brother and sister, we take you out of the mountains as far as . . .” He glanced shyly at Pirra. “
Setoya
. I don't know it in Akean.”

“The Mountain of the Earthshaker,” she said.

Teseo nodded. “To
Setoya
. After that, you go alone.”

“How come you speak Akean?” Hylas asked Teseo as they trudged through the snow, with Pirra and Deukaryo following behind.

“My mother,” said Teseo. “She was slave from Akea. My father—he buy her freedom with his goats.”

“I was a goatherd once,” said Hylas.

Teseo blinked, and Hylas could see him wondering how a goatherd came to know the daughter of Yassassara.

Since dawn, Deukaryo had led them by secret passes and hidden trails, while his daughter Meta and his other son Lukuro scouted for Crows, ready to sound the alarm on rams' horns. To Hylas' relief he'd glimpsed Havoc keeping level with them through the trees. The others hadn't spotted her. She'd become much better at staying out of sight.

He was surprised to find himself trusting Deukaryo. Unlike Sidayo, Deukaryo was a herdsman who'd grown up on Mount Dikti, and he had a mountain man's habit of squinting at the sky to check the wind and weather. He treated Hylas with awkward respect as one of the People of the Wild, and seemed to regard Pirra with awe—especially after she held out her arm, and Echo swooped down and perched on her wrist.

As they descended into the foothills, they began to pass farmhouses marked with the white handprints of Plague. Deukaryo's heavy face grew anxious, and he gave everyone dittany to rub on their skin. Surreptitiously, Hylas also chewed a few of the buckthorn leaves Akastos had given him to ward off ghosts. In the mountains, he'd almost been able to forget them, but down here, he often got that ache in his temple, and felt their anger and loss shadowing his heart. He dreaded the haunted plain. And he knew that soon, he would have to tell Pirra.

That night, they camped under an overhang. Teseo woke up a fire, while Hylas cut pine boughs for bedding, and Pirra sat with her chin on her knees, looking spent.

After making an offering to the god of Mount Dikti, Deukaryo shared out gritty barley cakes and grayish olives, with a skinful of sour gray wine flavored with myrtle to mask the bitterness of ash. Then with a flourish he produced a small earthenware pot. “Honey,” he said proudly. “The last we have.”

Everyone dipped in their fingers and sucked the magical sweetness that came from the Sun and was gathered by bees. Hylas guessed that like him, they were thinking of long-ago days when the Sun still shone. Pensively, he broke off a chunk of honeycomb and crunched it. He realized that the others were staring at him.

“You eat
honeycomb
?” said Pirra.

“Why not?” he mumbled.

Rolling her eyes, she muttered something about Akeans in Keftian.

“I understood that,” said Hylas—and everyone laughed.

After that, their guides relaxed. They tried to teach Hylas some Keftian, and smiled when he couldn't do the clicks.

“I do know one word,” he said.

“Go on then,” said Pirra, “let's hear it.”

“Rauko.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Not bad. Where'd you learn that?”

He told her about his encounter with the wild bull.

Deukaryo whistled. “You were lucky, my friend. Every spring the priests catch a wild bull and take it to
Kunisu,
for the bull-leapers to jump over. It takes years to learn, and someone's usually killed.”

“Why do they do it?” said Hylas.

“To harness the power of the Earthshaker,” said the herdsman, “and make the crops grow.”

Hylas chewed an olive. “
Kunisu,
what's that?”

“The House of the Goddess,” said Pirra. Her face contracted, and he guessed that she was dreading going back.

Deukaryo was watching her too. “Why do you need to reach Kunisu?” he said quietly.

Hylas and Pirra exchanged glances. “We have to find something before the Crows get it,” said Pirra.

To change the subject, Hylas said, “There's one other word you keep saying.
Pir-ákara?
”

The others grinned, and Pirra snorted a laugh. “That's me, you idiot! Pirra's short for Pirákara. It's my full name.”

Hylas was taken aback. “You never told me that.”

“Well, I don't tell you everything,” she said.

He chewed another olive and spat out the stone. “I prefer Pirra.”

“Good,” she said. “So do I.”

Pirra stumbled, and hoped the others hadn't noticed. She was exhausted, and her belly was knotted with tension. Every step took her closer to the House of the Goddess.

After three days' hard walking, they'd left the mountains and the snow behind, and crossed a cold, eerie plain of gray trees and Plague-marked villages, where the only moving things were drifting veils of windblown ash. Everyone was subdued, especially Hylas. At times he rubbed a small scar on his temple, and once he muttered that there were too many ghosts; but when she asked how he knew, he just shook his head.

On either side of them rose wooded ridges pocked with caves. Pirra didn't like the feel of them. They made her think of her mother in her tomb.

Beside her, Deukaryo cast her a thoughtful glance from under his heavy brows, and she knew that he still believed she could bring back the Sun.

“I can't do it,” she told him in Keftian. “I'm not the High Priestess.”

“You're her daughter,” he said with simple faith.

“That's not enough to do a Mystery. It doesn't pass from mother to daughter; it's for the priests to choose the next High Priestess.”

“I know,” he said stubbornly, “but Yassassara had much power, and I think you do too. You have a bond with that bird, and falcons are creatures of the Goddess.”

Pirra had no answer to that.

A little later, they saw the dark bulk of a mountain ahead, and the knot in her belly tightened.

“Setoya,” Deukaryo said quietly.

Craning his neck, Hylas peered at the summit. “It looks like it's got horns.”

“That's the shrine on top,” said Pirra. “It has bulls' horns on the roof. That's why they call it the Mountain of the Earthshaker.”

“They say it's always windy up there,” said Deukaryo. “Noisy with the voices of the spirits. It's not far from Kunisu. The High Priestess used to go there to listen.” He glanced at Pirra, but she turned away.

In the mountains, the snowglow had lightened the ashen twilight, but down here, the Great Cloud hung thicker than ever, and though it was mid-afternoon, it was so dark that bats mistook it for dusk and came pouring out of the caves like black smoke.

Echo sped after them—with predictably dismal results.

“Not bats, Echo,” Pirra told her. “When will you learn to go after pigeons?” She tried to catch Hylas' eye, but he was anxiously scanning the caves on the ridge.

The real dusk came on, and they looked for somewhere to camp. Teseo spotted a likely cave, but Hylas insisted on checking it first. Pirra remembered that he'd done this before, and on impulse she followed him in.

Teseo had given her a rushlight, but its feeble glimmer only deepened the shadows, and she couldn't see Hylas.

The cave was dank, and smelled of dust and spiders. Broken pottery crunched beneath her boots, and to her alarm, she glimpsed small bronze offerings tucked into cracks.

“Hylas,” she whispered. “We need to get out, this is a tomb!”

He didn't reply. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she saw him standing motionless with his back to her.

“Hylas—”

“Get away from me!” he whispered.

“It's me, Pirra!” But when she went to him his tawny eyes stared straight through her.

“Hylas?” She touched his hand. It felt clammy and cold. “Wake up.”

He shuddered, rubbed his face, and seemed to see her for the first time. “This cave's no good,” he mumbled, “Let's go.”

The others accepted his judgment, and soon afterward they found another that he said was “clear,” and made camp. Deukaryo went to confer with Lukuro and Meta, who would climb Setoya and keep watch for Crows, while Hylas busied himself helping Teseo waken a fire—as if, thought Pirra, he was avoiding her.

They ate a silent meal of gritty barley cakes, and when they'd finished, Deukaryo looked at Hylas and said calmly, “So tell me. How long have you been able to see ghosts?”

H
ylas saw Pirra's eyes widen, and wished he'd had the courage to tell her before. “It started when I got to Keftiu,” he told Deukaryo. “I—I can see Plague too. Like a black swarm. It's horrible. And I think it's getting worse. How did you know?”

“I didn't,” the herdsman said simply. “I guessed. The ghosts . . . do you see them all the time?”

Hylas shook his head. “Only now and then. I never know when it's going to happen, but I get an ache.” He touched his temple.

“You have a scar,” said Pirra in a low voice.

He glanced at her, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. “It was a burn,” he said. As he described his ordeal in the fiery mountain of Thalakrea, he seemed once again to smell the sulfurous smoke; he saw the burning shadow of the Lady of Fire, and Her bright hair blazing in the black air; he felt the searing touch of Her finger on his temple . . . “D'you think that's why?” he cried. “Because the Lady burned me?”

“Don't you?” said Deukaryo.

“I—never thought of it. What does it mean?”

Deukaryo watched the sparks shooting upward. “I'm no seer,” he said, “but I know that everyone has a door in their minds between this world and that of the spirits. In most of us this door is hidden by a veil until we die. With you, I think maybe the Lady scorched that veil away. At least in part. Maybe that's why you only sometimes see ghosts: because the shreds of the veil blow back and forth across your sight.”

“Whatever it is, I hate it,” muttered Hylas.

Deukaryo's mouth twisted. “Ah, the gods don't care about that, my friend. And it helped us tonight, didn't it? So maybe it brings good as well as bad.”

“Now you're talking like a seer,” said Hylas.

Deukaryo chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Then it's time we got some sleep!”

Later, Pirra woke to find Deukaryo and Teseo snoring, but Hylas gone.

Quietly, she stepped around the sleepers and left the cave. It wasn't as cold as in the mountains, but the night was sharp, and she pulled her dirty fox furs about her. The fire at the mouth of the cave had burned low, but the embers gave off a faint red glow. “Hylas?” she called softly.

No answer.

“Echo? Echo, I need you . . .”

Echo glided down and alighted on her shoulder. Pirra fumbled at her belt for the vole that Teseo had caught earlier, and the falcon ripped it hungrily to shreds.

Sadly, Pirra stroked Echo's scaly foot. Often when she was with the falcon, she thought of Userref. She was worried about him. Deukaryo had heard no word of any wandering Egyptian, so where was he? She pictured him freezing on Mount Dikti, or captured by the Crows.

Hylas loomed out of the dark, saw her, and stopped. “I went to find Havoc,” he said.

“And did you?”

“She found me. I
think
she understands that we can't be together for a bit, but I wish I was sure.” With his heel he hacked at the ground. “Pirra, I was going to tell you. About the—about what I can see.”

“Doesn't matter,” she replied.

Squatting on his heels, he dug at the earth with a stick.

“When it happens,” she said, “do you get scared?”

“Yes,” he said without raising his head. “It wasn't so bad in the mountains, but down here there are so many. They're lost and
angry
, and I can't help. And it's getting stronger.”

Pirra's chest tightened. There might be ghosts in the House of the Goddess. And watching over it from her tomb, there would be Yassassara, sitting up in her coffin.

Hylas was looking at her. “You're afraid of going back,” he said quietly.

She nodded.

“But it's empty, isn't it? There'll be nobody to stop you leaving.”

She hesitated. “There aren't any people there, if that's what you mean.”

Echo finished the vole and wiped her beak on Pirra's furs, then flew off, disappearing silently into the night.

“We'll be together the whole time,” said Hylas, “and then we'll leave.”

Pirra didn't reply.

Again he stabbed the ground. “Is something else worrying you?”

“Why do you ask?”

“There's a look you get when Deukaryo talks to you in Keftian. You had it now. Is it about your mother?”

She stared at him. “Sometimes, Hylas, I wish you didn't notice
everything
.”

His lip curled. “Well, I do, so why don't you just tell me?”

Again she hesitated. “That rite I told you about—the Mystery she was going to do before she died. Deukaryo thinks I should do it in her place.”

“And—can you?”

“Of course not! This isn't merely some sacrifice. She was the
High Priestess,
and not even she knew if it would work! She'd have been the first to say I couldn't do it.”

Throwing away the stick, he rose to his feet. “Well, like I said, we won't be in there long. We'll go in fast, get the dagger, and get out.”

He made it sound so simple. But he'd never even been to the House of the Goddess, he didn't know what it was like. And he had no idea what performing the Mystery would mean. If he knew, he'd be appalled that she was even considering it.

Because what if Deukaryo was right, and she
could
do it? The thought made Pirra turn cold.

I can't, she told herself. I'm not brave enough. Not for that.

Hylas was jolted awake by the booming of rams' horns. The scouts on Setoya were sounding a warning, and Deukaryo was leaning over him.

“Crows,” hissed the herdsman, “on the other side of that ridge, we've got to get moving!”

Hurriedly, they buried the embers and set off into the dark. Hylas felt sick with fatigue. Beside him, Pirra was grimly silent.

Pebbles rattled onto the trail, and two shadowy figures skittered down the slope in front of them. Lukuro whispered to his father in Keftian, then Meta broke in and Pirra protested.

Deukaryo cut them short and turned to Hylas. “Can you see that gorge up ahead? Follow it, keep to the river, it'll take you to Kunisu.”

“How far?” said Hylas.

“Half a day or so if you hurry.”

“What about you?” said Pirra.

“We'll decoy them up Setoya and lose them on the other side. You and Meta swap cloaks. With luck they'll think she's you.”

“That's too dangerous!” whispered Pirra. “She might get shot!”

“We know this mountain, they don't,” said Deukaryo. “Hurry! It's the only way!”