City of Death (34 page)

“No, I will,” Leech said as he held out his hand.

“The goddess chose my lady,” Kles said sternly, “not you.”

With the memory of Nanaia's shining form still fresh in their minds, neither the dragon nor the boy argued.

As Leech turned around and squatted, her mother finally took notice. “Where are you going?”

“To do my job,” Scirye said as she clambered onto Leech's back.

Ignoring his own safety on the slippery cloud, her father actually began running to intercept her. “You stay right here,” he ordered. “I'm not going to lose my other daughter.”

Scirye wrapped her arms around her friend's shoulders. “The world's more important than us,” she said, but could not help feeling guilty. Though before this, she might have twisted and bent her parents' commands to her own liking, she had never openly disobeyed them. “It's what Nishke would do.”

From somewhere, she thought she heard her sister laughing. “Yes, I probably would.”

And then Leech was soaring away from the cloud with Kles next to them.

“Where to?” Leech asked her.

“Straight to Kemshap's mouth,” Scirye said.

 

64

Leech

Leech's heart was pounding as he raced toward the peak that was Kemshap's head. “You and your Tumarg,” he said to his friend.

“I'm sorry for getting you into this,” Scirye said, gripping him tighter.

“You've got a lot to live up to, and I've got a lot to live down,” Leech said. “And maybe this will make up a little for what I did in that former life.”

“There's nothing to make up for,” Scirye said. “Lee No Cha was Lee No Cha, and you're you. And the Leech I know is a good person.”

Scirye's title meant little to a street rat like Leech, but he'd come to respect and even admire her during their time together, so her praise meant something to him. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Scirye said. Once the Kushan girl made up her mind, that was that.

“Well, I think we're all better for having met you.” Leech couldn't help laughing. “Even Koko.”

He angled downward a little more sharply as the monster started to shrink once more. Knobs began erupting all over its face like dirty pimples and became spikes that shot outward in all directions as Kemshap's head became a giant pincushion—and the pins kept growing and growing.

Leech felt the muscles on his legs twitch as if the Voice were trying to gain control again.
Of all the crazy things we've done, this is the craziest,
the Voice said.

Leech resisted the Voice's efforts.
If anyone has a chance of stopping Kemshap, it's Scirye,
Leech insisted.
If that creature is roaming around, the world won't be safe.

It's not the world I knew, but let's give everyone a fighting chance,
the Voice admitted.
Just like Bayang tried to do for us. So let me take over.

For a moment, Leech hesitated, but then he forced himself to surrender control.
Okay.

There had been times when he felt the Voice had seized control of his arms and legs. So it was strange to feel again like a passenger in his own body. It was even odder to feel the Voice looking through his eyes, like being in a tiny room with one window. Or to have someone else make his legs bend a little more so he had better balance.

But he also felt himself swept along on a tide of confidence and the sheer joy of flying.

Do you see Kemshap's mistake?
the Voice asked eagerly. He didn't wait for Leech to answer.
The longer the spikes become, the more they spread out.

Finally Leech understood.
Which leaves a gap for us.

“Hold on,” the Voice said to both Leech and Scirye as they raced onward.

 

65

Scirye

Scirye's teeth clacked as they bounced off one spine and toward another. “Down,” Leech ordered.

The humming of the discs rose to a whine when they hit the second spike, but instead of ricocheting off it, Leech squatted down and Scirye copied him as they skimmed along its length as if it were a road with a curved surface. The spikes, though packed densely together, still left a space of several yards between each of them.

It was like entering a giant thornbush, and Scirye clung to him, trusting in her friend's skill. They'd traveled this far, defeated powerful opponents, and fought through traps because they'd learned how to depend on each other. She wasn't about to stop now.

As the discs grated along the spike, Leech let out a whoop of sheer joy, and Scirye felt her own blood begin to race like a horse across the steppes, like a maenad dancing through vine-covered hills.

“Euoi,” she murmured.

Kles was coiled around her neck to keep a low profile. “Excuse me, lady?”

“Nothing.” She laughed, feeling the wind rush against her face until her cheeks were numb. She was a Kushan and steppe and mountain and desert and now the sky were her playroom.

Suddenly they began to strike little bumps along the irregular surface that knocked their heads against a spike above. Then she started to hear clunks and clacks behind her. She risked a glance in back of her and saw foot-long thorns begin to sprout from the sides of the giant spines. Kemshap had figured out what they were doing, but it was too late.

They shot out of the thicket of spikes and Leech halted their momentum by pirouetting quickly in midair. He'd become a good flier in the short time she had known him, but she'd never seen him fly with such authority before.

As they hovered in front of the cavernous mouth. Scirye swallowed as she stared at the stalactites and stalagmites with their iridescent bands. They looked so huge when you were up close. And the stench from the creature's mouth almost made her gag. It smelled of rot, like the water in a stagnant marsh.

Despite all of her noble speeches, she hesitated. If her plan didn't work, it would be the nightmare of nightmares—swallowed alive, trapped in the damp darkness of the monster's gullet.

Kles brushed his beak ever so lightly across her cheek. “Live in glory and honor and joy, my lady, for you are my lare.”

The next moment she felt a small paw tug at Pele's charm around her neck. She gave a jump when it came away in his claws.

“What—?” she began to protest, but the small griffin had unwrapped himself from around her neck, snaking down to snatch the arrow from her belt. Then, with the arrow in one paw and the charm in the other, he launched himself into the air.

As he flew straight into the yawning maw, Kles cried defiantly, “
Tarkar!
”

And then he was gone.

 

66

Leech

The cry was torn right from Scirye's heart. “Kles, why did you do that? I'm the one who's supposed to go.”

The Voice was already turning to escape.
What's wrong? She ought to be glad someone else is doing it.

Leech sensed the Voice's confusion.
She loves him, and he loves her.

I don't understand love,
the Voice said.

Neither do I really,
Leech admitted.

But Primo was searching for me … I mean us,
the Voice said.
Does that mean Primo loves me?

It's got to count for something,
Leech said.

Though the griffin would be a gnat in comparison to the monster, Kemshap was all too aware of the arrow Kles was carrying. If it was possible for a living mountain to looked worried, he would have said that was what Kemshap was doing, because it had stopped dead in its tracks. Even its spikes remained stationary as it ignored them.

That thing seems distracted, so I guess it's safe enough if you take over,
the Voice said.
I can handle the flying but not her. You're still better with people.

Wanting to comfort his friend, Leech reached behind him and awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. “Kles didn't want you to get hurt.”

Scirye gave an anguished sob. “I wasn't going to get hurt. The otter charm would have given me a way back out.”

Leech glanced over his shoulder at her. “You can't be sure. Maybe Kles was afraid it wouldn't work on Kemshap like it did on the hag's bag or a prison lock.”

“I've got to go after him,” Scirye insisted. “You said it was hard living with the guilt over what Lee No Cha did. Well, I won't be able to live with the guilt if something happens to Kles because he's doing my job.”

What do we do?
the Voice asked Leech.

We've got to help her,
Leech replied.

As he swung around, he took off his own charm from Pele and gave it to Scirye. Instantly, he began to feel the winter cold. “Here. It's the latest fashion for diving into monsters.”

 

67

Scirye

They zoomed up over a wide, curving cheek toward the giant pit that was its mouth, but Kemshap ignored them as they drew near. Instead, it seemed to be concentrating all its attention on its insides. Rocks and mud oozed down from the corners of its mouth like drool, and the stone formations in its mouth swayed as the walls of its mouth convulsed.

The cavernous mouth opened and shut, spraying rocks and dirt about each time it closed. And when the mouth widened, Scirye could see the stalactites and stalagmites rocking and swaying as the monster's throat spasmed, trying to cough up the invader.

The stench made Scirye choke, but she did not complain. Somewhere within the blackness was her oldest and dearest friend fighting for his life. When she found him, she was going to give him the biggest hug he'd ever had—and then she'd pluck out every one of his feathers and hairs for scaring her like this.

“Careful. I think Kemshap's trying to gag,” Leech warned.

Touching the otter charm for good luck, Scirye got ready to jump.
Don't think about the smell. Don't think about the danger. Just think about the people who are dear to you. Think about the whole world.

They'd all worked so hard and sacrificed so much just to get her to this point in time. For a moment, her heart was full of love, and she regretted that she couldn't tell anyone else but Leech.

Scirye gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks for being my friend.”

“Thanks for being mine too, but don't make it sound like we'll never see each other again.” Leech slowed down as they passed over the void. “Good luck.”

“You too.” Letting go of his neck, Scirye jumped into the wide fissure.
“Yashe!”
she cried.

She'd meant to land in the space between two stalagmites, but they were rocking so violently that she hit one of the slippery columns instead, bouncing face-first into the muddy soil that formed the inside of Kemshap's mouth.

The earth clung to her so zealously that she had to strain to push herself away from it, and large patches of it oozed down the front of her clothes. She wiped her face with her sleeve, which was so dirty she thought she might have made herself even messier. All the epics she had read had not prepared her for this. It was more like being back in the sewers. Even a poet would have had trouble putting this into a heroic light.

The stinking mud clung to her ankles at every step as she headed toward the shaft that served as the monster's throat. The passage walls heaved in and out even more than Kemshap's mouth. But she'd been afraid that Kemshap's insides would be a solid, impenetrable mass. At least this gave her a possible route to her griffin.

“Kles?” she shouted down into it. Her voice echoed back to her, but there was no sign of her friend. All she could do was hope as she slid down the damp gullet. The dirt that formed the throat had an oily feeling, and as she moved along it, she felt the greasiness soak her clothes and skin. She wondered how many baths it would take before she felt clean again—assuming she survived.

Down, down she slipped, the only light coming from the glowing mark on her palm. She lost all sense of time and distance. She only knew that the smell was getting worse.

Suddenly her boot soles slammed against something. By the dim light from her palm, she saw that she had landed on dirt poles about the thickness of broom shafts, but unlike the throat and mouth the soil was hard as concrete.

Had this tangle always been there or was it a trap that Kemshap had created just now for Kles? The monster had probably never met such a tiny threat as the griffin before and must be frantically improvising defenses.

For a moment, pride for her friend drove away her own fears. Touching the pouch containing the otter charm, Scirye eased a leg between a narrow opening. The dirt poles writhed, widening the space so she could lower her other leg.

“Kles?” she called.

“Go away,” came the faint voice. “You weren't supposed to follow me.”

He was still alive! Scirye almost laughed with delight as she continued to climb down. “You're getting to be as much of an old grump as Bayang.”

“It's from associating with a willful mistress who's determined to throw her life away,” Kles shouted back.

“Well, that's what you get for trying to throw yours away instead,” Scirye scolded. “I won't allow it. So wait for me.”

Kles gave an embarrassed cough. “I … um … don't seem to have much choice in the matter.”

For the first time since she had jumped, Scirye was enjoying herself. “Oh, so you got stuck without the otter charm, did you? That's what you get for not taking me along.”

She could just imagine the griffin squirming wherever he was. “Humph, a polite person wouldn't tease another's misfortune.”

“You've called me an unmannered savage a lot of times,” Scirye reminded him.