City of Ice (14 page)

As they flew on, gray clouds scudded across the night sky like torn, dirty strands of cotton—the remnants of the storm. And the moon played hide-and-seek behind them so that the landscape alternated between dim light and gloomy darkness.

Leech eagerly scanned the horizon for some sign of the airplane, but he knew the sharp-eyed Scirye was more likely to glimpse Roland first.

Though before their encounter with the hag Roxanna had chatted away, she was unusually quiet now. Scirye had tried many times to convince the Sogdian girl that they needed her, but Roxanna treated the attempts as acts of mercy rather than the truth.

Roxanna was sitting in front of everyone else with Koko between Leech and Scirye. Upach, as usual, was last.

“Upach, what can we do to lift up your mistress's spirits?” Scirye asked softly.

“Well, she was really looking forward to having Lord Leech take her flying,” Upach suggested in a whisper.

Leech's own spirits sank. As much as he loved flying, he was also afraid that if he went soaring on his disks again, he might hear that shadowy voice. He didn't like the angry feelings that it stirred up in him. Nor did he like the guilty thoughts that followed.

After all, in giving up her mission to kill him Bayang was willing to turn her back on her own clan. He owed the dragon some trust for that sacrifice, not hatred.

“It's calm now,” Scirye said. “I bet Bayang would let you take Roxanna for a ride.”

Leech hesitated. “I'm not sure. Things change so fast here.”

“Don't be silly,” Scirye said, and then she called to Bayang before Leech could stop her: “Bayang, could Leech take Roxanna for a flight?”

Bayang gave in reluctantly. “Only for a little while and stick close.”

However, it was Roxanna who balked. “Thank you, Lord Leech, for your kindness,” she mumbled. “But I don't want to bother you.”

“Oh, go on, girl,” Upach urged. “You know you've been dying to.”

Feeling reassured when he hadn't heard that inner voice, Leech changed the armband's decorations into flying disks. He tensed, waiting to hear that malicious whisper again, but when there was nothing he tried to tough it out. “I won't take ‘no' for an answer,” Leech said. Plucking one of them from the air, he put it on his ankle and repeated the same process with the other.

The others all but forced Roxanna onto his back. With no other choice, she wrapped her arms and legs around him tight, squeezing him even harder when they lurched into the air. He would have preferred a more elegant entry into the sky, but the extra weight threw off his balance and he lurched into the air.

Roxanna stiffened behind him and her arms and legs tightened. “I'm ready to go back now.”

“Let me get used to the load—I mean, the shift in my center of gravity,” he corrected himself hastily.

Bayang swung her head to check on them. “Don't go too far,” she cautioned.

It was good to have a physical problem because he had to focus on that rather than cringe, waiting for that strange voice. When he had made the adjustment, he began to move slowly in a circle, taking care to stay at the same level. When Roxanna didn't scream, he dipped below Bayang, coming up on the other side and then slipping overhead.

Bayang smiled encouragingly at them. “There's nothing like flying, is there?”

“It's so scary,” Roxanna admitted, “but I've never felt so free.”

Leech could feel his own spirits rising. “Then I think you're ready for this.” He soared upward into a loop.

“Hey, hey, no fancy stuff,” Bayang said.

“You take care of my lady,” Upach warned.

Roxanna had been holding her breath in and let it out in a rush. “I was so frightened that I forgot to scream.”

“I won't do it again,” Leech promised contritely.

Roxanna hesitated for a moment and then said, “I didn't exactly say not to.”

That was a little like her old self. Encouraged, Leech said, “We're your friends, Lady Roxanna—mistakes or no mistakes. After all, you're one of us now.”

“Really?” Roxanna asked.

“And we're not going to survive without your know-how,” Leech said.

Before Roxanna could reply, Scirye was pointing above them. “Look!”

Scirye was glad she had helped make Leech take Roxanna for a ride. It seemed to be picking up not only Roxanna's spirits but Leech's as well. Even if the weather had been poor, Scirye had expected him at least to try to fly. Instead, he had seemed tense and distracted, as if he was listening for something.

She craned her head back to look above them for some sign of Roland's plane. Instead, she saw a green glow above them.

“Look!” she cried.

“It's the northern lights,” Roxanna explained. “I never get tired of it, though I've seen it many times. The Inuit say they're the spirits of the dead playing a game or hunting. But I like to think they're dancing.”

It was only a flicker of light and it was gone just as suddenly—like the tail of a trout glimpsed in a pond before it dove.

“I saw the northern lights once,” Kles said, “when I had accompanied Princess Maimantstse to Siberia. They were really quite a sight.”

Scirye felt a little pang of jealousy whenever she heard Kles talk about his life prior to coming to her. However, she quickly squelched it, for it was the princess who had sent her own companion to keep Scirye company and help her. It had been a magnificent gift and characteristic of what Scirye had heard about the princess's generous spirit.

Suddenly it seemed like a patch of the sky folded itself back to reveal the soft green gauze that served as the backing to the black velvet of the night.

More and more of the sky unraveled and green light flowed slowly across the darkness until it was a river miles long. Like water in slow motion, it twisted and curled into waves that crested and crashed, splitting into currents that flowed in opposite directions or gathered momentarily in eddies and then swirled on.

“Oh, Kles, it's beautiful.” Scirye sighed.

“But I hear San Francisco has everything,” Roxanna said.

“They have neon signs and street lamps, but they can't hold a candle to this,” Leech said with his mouth open in awe.

“The reds and purples are amazing,” Bayang said breathlessly.

“I only see green,” Leech said.

“Dragon eyes see more of the light spectrum than humans,” Bayang explained.

Scirye would have loved to have traded her eyes for those of the dragon, though the green lights were spectacular enough.

She gave a gasp of delight as the northern lights began to spill downward in stages like a series of waterfalls. Lower and lower they cascaded.

“Yikes,” Koko squealed. “They're coming to haunt us.”

“I've never heard them coming down this close to the earth,” Roxanna said uneasily.

Bayang made a quick decision. “I'll dive so we can take cover on the ground.”

But it was already too late. As stately as the northern lights had appeared at a distance, they could drop as swiftly as an arrow. The dragon had barely folded her wings when they were surrounded by creatures with bodies like long wispy veils that drifted back and forth in the wind.

Once, while Nishke and Scirye had been exploring San Francisco's Chinatown, they had wandered into a laundry's drying room, where they had found themselves surrounded by lines of drying sheets. It was like that now, except the room extended across the entire sky.

“Down,” Kles cried. “Go down!”

As Bayang and Leech began to drop, the nearest lights stretched into narrow ribbons a hundred yards long toward Bayang.

“They're going to electrocute us,” Koko yelped.

When Scirye felt the ribbons drape themselves over her, though, there wasn't any shock but rather a pleasant tingle as if every pore were alive. The lights wound themselves around Bayang's limbs and wings, holding her suspended in mid-air even though the ribbons looked no stronger than ones wrapping a birthday gift.

Beneath them they could feel Bayang's mighty body struggle to break free. “I…I can't move!” she panted. Scirye and the others on Bayang's back were trapped as well.

Even more ribbons had enveloped Leech and Roxanna, who were wrestling the lights with equal uselessness.

For every northern light that held them prisoner there seemed to be a dozen more wheeling around them, as playful as dolphins. Occasionally, one would brush Scirye's face in passing like a silken tassel.

“What do you want?” Scirye asked, trying to keep the fear out of her voice.

Sparkles ran across all the northern lights and then a tendril cautiously slid downward from one of them, twisting and wriggling around each of them.

“I don't think they mean us any harm. They're just curious about us,” Leech said, growing still. “They act like they've never seen a dragon.”

“Or humans flying by themselves in the air,” Bayang added, and ceased fighting. “You humans usually need to ride in airplanes or on the backs of giant birds.”

As a light examined Leech's face, Roxanna said thoughtfully, “But some ghost would have to know about humans and airplanes. So I don't think they're the dead at all. I think they're alive.”

“Yes,” Bayang agreed, “a unique species of living creatures. But because they usually keep so high in the sky, no one knew, so they made wild guesses instead. We might as well call them Dancers for want of a better name.”

The Dancers pulsed irregularly, some curling into cylinders, others into spinning wheels.

Scirye had lived in several countries, so every few years she'd had to learn a new language. As a matter of survival, she'd developed not only an accurate ear but also eyes adept at deciphering body language.

As the flickering Dancers cast strange shadows across her friends' faces, Scirye was sure in her bones that they were trying to speak to them.

If that was the case, how did creatures who communicated with sounds speak to creatures who spoke with light and shape?

“Please let us go,” Leech implored.

There was something familiar about the way the Dancers flashed. Then Scirye understood. The light throbbed in the same rhythm as Leech's words.

“I wish I had a flashlight.” Scirye sighed.

“We have a lantern, Lady,” the ifrit said. “Do you want me to fetch it?”

“If you can,” Scirye replied. “But do it slowly and try not to be threatening.”

A few moments later, Scirye was surprised to hear Upach rummaging around in the boxes and baskets on Bayang's back. Scirye was tempted to see how the ifrit had managed to get free. But then the Dancers tightened slightly and she said, “Please. We're just getting something so we can talk.” She was alert for any signs of anger, but again, they imitated the rhythm to her speech.

The next moment, Upach was murmuring to the fire imp within the lantern, “Time to wake up, Sleepyhead.”

And the next moment light flared behind her. “Can you make the imp grow bright and then dim?” Scirye asked.

“Listen to me, my pretty,” Upach said sweetly to the imp. “Two taps mean shine strong. One tap means glow soft. Got me?” She tapped on the lantern and the light increased. A single tap and it lessened.

“Then imitate my words by tapping on the lantern,” Scirye said.

Upach immediately copied the rhythm, as did the Dancers.

Scirye held her breath. There was always the risk with something so primitive that they might be insulting them instead, but the Dancers only shifted around as if observing her intently.

Scirye could not move her arms, but she was able to hold her palms out to show they were empty—though she doubted that creatures with no hands would understand it as a symbol of peace. “We're sorry if we trespassed in your territory. We didn't know and we'll leave if you let us.”

The light vibrated from a dozen Dancers again in the same pattern she had used. She spoke to them soothingly, trying her best to show every sign that they were harmless. Finally, after flashing in imitation of her words, the Dancers began to scintillate in a new pattern.

“Tap like I say,” Scirye said. She had a good memory for such things. “Bright, dim. Bright, brighter, dim.”

For ten minutes each group tried to copy the others' responses. Scirye doubted that she could have understood ten of the Dancers' words in a year of study. She was sure that the motion and shape of their bodies added subtle nuances—a little like the inflection of a human voice. However, she interpreted the Dancers' attempt at communication as a hopeful sign that the Dancers were as intrigued with the new flying creatures as Scirye and her friends were with them.

Suddenly the Dancers holding Bayang and Leech slid away, returning to the others. The dragon and the boy dropped for a couple of yards before they recovered.

Above them, the Dancers began swirling and coiling excitedly, some of them spiraling around others, some forming bubbles like water boiling in a pot. Light vibrated in patterns too quick to follow.

Scirye wondered if they were debating about what to do with their visitors.

One of them blazed like lightning and one after another the Dancers began to shine with the same intensity, bodies flattening and lengthening into elegant ribbons that wove in and out among one another as if on a giant loom. Perhaps they had agreed on what to do.

They hung in the air like that for a moment and then slipped away until they were once again restless banners dangling from the rafters of the night sky.

However, one Dancer lingered, spreading itself instead like a delicate curtain of green fire. The fringes along its edges twirled. About a yard away from Leech and Roxanna, one of the ribbons became a thread as slender as a hair and then drifted leisurely through the air toward Leech, where it slipped under his glove.

“Hey,” Koko protested, “get your mitts off him.”

“It tingled for a bit at first,” Leech said, glancing down at it, “but now it's okay.”

The thread snapped and the Dancer floated upward, whirling away as delicately as the down from a dandelion, leaving behind a slender ribbon glowing like cold fire around Leech's wrist.