The Standing Dead - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 02 (13 page)

BOOK: The Standing Dead - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 02
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As the sky darkened, Osidian began babbling. Carnelian greeted this sign of life with joy. Wary of the movement of her knee and thigh, he clung to the crossbeam of Blur's chair and watched Osidian's rain-glazed face contorting, but it was impossible to pick out words from the rush and chew of sound.

A cry from up ahead made Carnelian release the crossbeam and stand away from Blur to look down the slope. The Plainsmen were dotted here and there below him, but a group had gathered on a promontory that pushed out into a gulf of air. Carnelian made sure there was no peril in Blur's path then scrambled down to join them.

He did not have to reach them before he saw that the floor of the ravine fell away from wall to towering wall. He pushed in among the youths and came to stand beside Ranegale and Fern, who were gazing into the depths of an abyss. Carnelian let his eyes follow the cliff down through the veiling rainfall, down and further down to where, remotely, a black river ran.

They retreated from that precipitous fall and found a cave mouth in the side of the ravine between two cascades. While the others coaxed the aquar into the darkness, Carnelian helped Fern and Ravan lean the corpses against the rock.

Ravan looked morose. 'Do we have to leave them out here?'

Fern put his arm around his brother then led him away. Carnelian followed them, his hand on Blur's neck, the dead men's aquar plodding heavily behind.

The walls of the cave were varnished with running water. As Carnelian crept deeper in, Osidian's ravings seemed to grow louder. Carnelian's eyes adjusted to the gloom allowing him to see a floor strewn with the boulders of crouching aquar, their glassy eyes catching the light.

'Here will do,' Fern said, at last.

They asked Blur to kneel and then carefully lifted Osidian from her chair and laid him out. Carnelian turned Osidian's head so his face might catch what little light there was. His eyes were closed and twitching; sounds were dribbling from his lips.

'What's he saying?' Fern asked.

Carnelian shrugged. 'It's his fever speaking.'

'Or the Skyfather through him,' said Ravan.

Carnelian became uneasy when he saw with what awe the youth was gazing upon Osidian. Frowning, Fern saw it too. He turned away and saw some of the other youths filing back to the entrance looking slight and vulnerable.

"They're the ones I pity,' said Fern.

Carnelian looked at him. 'Why did you bring them then?'

Fern grimaced. To let them see the world. They'd come of age and the Tribe's tributaries had need of an escort on their way to the Mountain.'

Carnelian turned back to look at the youths. 'I would've thought you could come up with a better escort than a posse of children.'

Ravan glared at Carnelian. 'We are men.'

Fern smiled and looked at his brother approvingly. 'It is a venerable tradition of our people.'

Carnelian sensed in them both a nobility that did not sit well with what he knew of their mission. 'Is it also a venerable tradition of your people to prey upon travellers?'

Fern's face became wooden. 'As much as it is a tradition of your people to take our children from us.'

Carnelian despised himself for having assumed so easily the haughty judging stance of his kind. Still he was enough the Master to be stung by the disapproval on the brothers' faces.

'The people on the road are innocent of the policies of the Masters.'

'How else can we strike at you?' said Fern.

Carnelian saw with his mind's eye Osrakum's soaring mountain wall, her gates, her turreted dragons. The vision melted. Fern's intense dark eyes were piercing through his defences and he regretted his insensitivity.

'We're here now and in your power.'

'But now we have you, you seem to me only men and not the angels we hate.'

Carnelian thought of Jaspar, Ykoriana and the other Masters he knew and felt he was misleading Fern. 'I'm untypical of my kind.'

Fern
frowned and then glanced towards the mouth of the cave. Carnelian had more questions but could see Fern's impatience to join his people. 'You needn't wait for me.'

Fern gave him a curt nod and walked off, but to
Carnelian's surprise, Ravan insisted on helping him make Osidian comfortable. This done, they threw damp blankets round their shoulders and walked to the entrance together. A couple of the youths shuffled aside to let Carnelian through. He found a place to sit between Fern and Cloud. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them with the blanket as he saw they had done and then he joined them gazing out at the cascades and the slanting rain.

'What do we do now?' asked Fern.

'Let's decide in the morning,' said Ranegale.

So near the cave mouth, Carnelian could feel the rain's spitting dance as cold pinpricks on his feet.

'What I wouldn't give for a fire,' said Loskai.

There were grunts of agreement as everyone huddled closer. The youths whispered to each other but the men were silent as they watched the world outside grow dark. Looking sidelong at their faces, Carnelian could not avoid seeing how much they resembled his brothers now far away in Osrakum. He was barely aware of the knot in his stomach beginning to work loose as he settled back into the warmth of their bodies.

THE ANOINTING

Ichor is the burning blood.

From blood comes life;

from ichor, Creation.

Blood sacrifice is the agent of this transformation.

Ichorous blood proofs the mortal vessel

to receive fire from the sky.

Every drop of blood within the vessel this fire ignites to purest ichor.

(from
the
'Boo
k
of
the
Sorcerers')

Light seeped with thunder down the cave tunnel to wake Carnelian. He lifted his head and found his pillow was Blur's neck. Her eye plumes fluttered as he sat up. Plainsmen wrapped in blankets lay between the aquar.

Soon everyone was rising, yawning, stretching sleep from their limbs. After checking on Osidian, now as silent as the dead, Carnelian went to join the men gathering at the entrance of the cave to survey the colourless world outside.

Ranegale pulled a blanket over his head and went out. Loskai followed, then Cloud with Krow trailing after him. Fern raised his eyebrows at Carnelian and, when he gave him a nod, Fern crushed his curls under a blanket and ducked into the rain with Ravan. Cursing, Carnelian rubbed his lips over the blessed dryness of his own blanket before he cast it over him and followed.

Rain pattered on the blanket, which grew heavier until wetness began soaking through. Ignoring the discomfort, Carnelian had to peer to keep Fern in sight. Soon they had joined Ranegale and the others on the edge of the abyss. Around them water was spouting into space. Craning over, Carnelian could make out nothing in the vague and shifting greyness. Ranegale and Cloud were blinking away rain as they examined the walls of the abyss. Carnelian allowed his own gaze to wander over the pallid rock piled layer upon layer, everywhere pocked with holes. Countless ledges shelved the walls, in places seeming to form ladders that faded away into the trembling veils of rain.

'Up or down?' said Cloud, brushing a concerned glance over Krow and the other youths.

Heads turned to look back up the slope, which was a frothing cascade.

'We must descend,' said Ranegale grimly. 'What's the point of climbing that? If we reached the top, we'd still have the same problem we had two days ago except we'd have less djada.'

There must be a better way,' said Fern.

Ranegale had cupped his hands to his ears to hear him. 'A better way? And how do you think we're going to find it? Shall we try every pass until we find one that takes us all the way down?' Gazing into the abyss, he shook his head. 'We must try here, while we still have the strength.'

'How're we going to get the aquar down?' asked Krow.

Carnelian tried to trace a plausible descent, but the ledges seemed as substantial as scribbles.

Ravan was looking at Ranegale for an answer. As the man's hands dropped to his sides and he turned away, the youth's mouth sagged open with horror and disbelief.

Loskai stared. 'Ranegale, you can't mean that you want us to walk all the way home?'

Fern glanced at him. 'For once I agree with your brother. We've no choice.'

Ravan looked from face to face. 'You can't do it. I've reared Runner since she was a hatchling.'

The men were all staring blindly into the abyss.

'We should leave them here in case we have to return?' tried Ravan.

Cloud took his shoulder. That would be more cruel. Would you want them to slowly starve?'

'We could set them loose; let them return the way we came.'

Cloud shook his head. 'You saw how barren it is up there.'

Ravan and Krow were struggling not to cry.

'What about our dead?' Cloud asked Fern.

Carnelian looked to where the rain was melting the corpses into the ravine wall, then to the cave in whose depths Osidian lay a fallen statue.

Fern was ashen. 'We leave them here.'

Ravan broke down and Cloud embraced him with one arm, reaching out with the other to Krow.

'Cut their hearts out to take with us,' said Ranegale.

Fern stared blankly while Cloud grew angry. There'll be no need for that. Birds from the Earthsky will reach them here.'

Morosely, Carnelian knew he must stay behind with Osidian.

'What about the Standing Dead?' asked Loskai.

Fern's eyes came back into focus. He indicated Carnelian with his chin. 'I'll help this one carry the other.'

As Carnelian gazed startled at the Plainsman, Ranegale shrugged, scowling. 'If you must.'

Carnelian stood against the cave wall keeping out of their way. He was still reeling from Fern's offer. He had tried to help with unharnessing the aquar, but had quickly found he was only a hindrance. Grim-faced, the Plainsmen were soon working at tearing their saddle-chairs apart. The transverse poles they released from behind the chairs were being piled at the cave mouth. On to either end of each was wound a bale of djada rope the size of a man's head. To one side a parcel had been laid, carefully wrapped in oiled skins the length and girth of a boy's forearm. Beside it were some pouches that had clinked as they were put down.

Smiling crookedly, Cloud regarded the pile of saddle-chair wicker. 'If we'd known we could've had quite a blaze last night.'

Fern asked Carnelian to help him lash together several of the saddle-chair poles into a beam to which he added his father's spear with its iron head. As they worked, Carnelian thanked Fern, who merely gave a curt nod. When they were finished they laid the structure on the floor beside Osidian and Carnelian saw that it stretched longer than his body. They bound Osidian to it with leather bands, blankets and whatever else they could find among the debris of the saddle-chairs.

Each taking one end, Carnelian and Fern tried lifting him. At Fern's urging, they rotated the stretcher like a spit until Osidian hung from it facing the ground. The bindings creaked under his weight, but held. They turned him onto his side and laid the stretcher gently on the floor.

The aquar were standing naked near the back of the cave, blinking the mirrors of their eyes, their plumes rustling behind their heads.

They know,' broke Ravan's voice as everyone moved in among the creatures.

One of the youths began a wail that Fern cut short with a reprimand. He handed Carnelian a flint knife. 'You must do Blur.'

When Carnelian hesitated, Fern grabbed his hand and pressed the knife into it. Carnelian could see the tears in Fern's eyes as he made Blur kneel and showed him how she would allow him to bring her long head under his arm. 'You cut here.'

Carnelian watched Fern run his finger round the softly-scaled skin where the creature's jaw met her neck. He looked into Fern's face questioningly. His friend was fighting rage. 'We must do them all at once or else they'll panic'

Carnelian watched him walk away before turning to Blur. He saw his own reflection in her eyes. She was returning his gaze. He felt a bond with her. Like him she had a beating heart; she saw the same sky. She had yearnings, knew strength and weariness, pain and fear. He reached up to caress his hand down the warm column of her neck, crooning, stroking her plume fans closed.

'Ready yourselves.' The words echoed round the cave.

Carnelian reached up and drew Blur's scaly heron head to his side and slipped his arm over her warm skull. As he hooked her head close he could feel the hot humid breeze of her breath and the tickle of her blink against his skin. It made him ache that she should be so trusting while all the time he was sneaking the flint blade down to her throat.

'Now!' the word harsh and ragged.

Carnelian took too long. The cave was suddenly
deafening with aquar squealing their distress. Blur's fans
burst open in his face and he almost lost hold of her head.

BOOK: The Standing Dead - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 02
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