95
Fortress with No Name:
Down Below
“She looks so peaceful,” Lady intoned. We stood over her sister, in the cavern of the ancients. Soulcatcher now filled the identical spot that Lady had occupied during the Captivity.
I needed a moment to realize that she was being sarcastic, repeating the inanities you hear at funerals. She was sure Soulcatcher was partially aware of what was happening. And she could not interact with her sister in any more intimate way.
I said, “We’ve done what we came to do. We need to think about getting back to the Company.” Though I remained tempted to hazard a recon run through the Khatovar gate before it healed completely.
And I had a notion to take a gander at the dark thing that had been toying with our lives and destinies since before we ever heard any of her names.
“Yes,” Lady said. “There’s no telling what mischief Booboo and the Khadidas and Mogaba have gotten into without Tobo and Howler there to baby-sit.”
I said, “If Mogaba realizes that Sleepy’s got no wizards, he’ll be all over her like a snake on shit.”
“That was colorful, if nonsensical.” I noted that she did not include herself with Tobo and Howler. Yet I suspected strongly that she was capable of sucking Kina’s power like a queen vampire nowadays. Sometimes I wondered what that augured for the day it came time to pay up to Shivetya. She really hated turning into something old and dumpy and grey that looked way too much like the mother she barely remembered.
“I just remembered a Company sergeant from before your time. A man named Elmo. He had an unusual turn of phrase.”
“You are getting old.”
“I spend my whole life living in the past, darling. Let’s saddle up.” We had come down the long stair to the cavern aboard Voroshk flying posts. What a marvellous way to deal with stairways when you are no longer twenty years old.
Lady started to pat her sister on the shoulder, an ordinary little action. “Don’t!” I barked, with enough urgency to cause a couple of small ice stalactites to fall somewhere back in the depths of the cave.
“Oh. I wasn’t thinking.”
There were frost-encrusted old men all along the sides of the cave. No one knew who they were. Except, possibly, Baladitya. Most of them were still alive. They were, like Soulcatcher, exiles from some unsympathetic power. But a few, including way too many Company brothers from the time of the Captivity, were dead meat. And all it had taken to kill them was a thoughtless, gentle or friendly touch.
Lady pushed past me. I surveyed the local population. As ever, it seemed the open eyes all stared right at me. I met Soulcatcher’s dull gaze. For no reason I understood, I winked. We were old conspirators. We went way back. I knew her before I knew her sister, in olden times of terror.
It may have been a trick of the light or of my imagination but it seemed there was a flicker of response.
When we returned up top we found the others involved in the initial stages of getting ready to leave. Howler was exulting, loudly, to all and sundry, in his new ability to remain silent. He seemed almost grateful. Being an old cynic myself I have strong notions about the true value of human gratitude. It is a currency whose worth plunges by the hour. Though thoroughly confused, the two old Voroshk sorcerers were collecting themselves for the journey, too. Which meant that they had surrendered to Tobo’s blandishments while Lady and I were down below. They had surrendered their flying posts and special clothing rather than be forced to return to their own world.
They must have gotten some really unpleasant news.
“You understand what this means?” I asked Tobo.
“Uh?” The kid was relaxing by flirting with Shukrat. I got the impression that those two might have started sneaking off into dark corners. They had developed that goofy way of looking at each other. And they could not stay away from one another.
That would not instill Sahra with great joy.
“It means we have to stash Gromovol downstairs, too. Or kill him. Which wouldn’t be politic. Because there’s no way I’m going to give him the opportunity to give us any more grief by letting him come back with us.”
“I’ll talk to Nashun and the First Father.” He turned to Shukrat. “Come on, honey.”
Hah. Honey.
A procession of flying posts went down to the cave of the ancients. Oh, that was so much easier than clambering down and up. The elderly Voroshk, in borrowed rags, rode behind Tobo and Shukrat. Gromovol rode behind Arkana. I figured she owed him one. Her cast did not cause her any problems flying. She would be out of that soon.
Gromovol whined and begged until he became an embarrassment to everyone.
I could claim I had no mercy but that would not be true. Had I been appropriately merciless, pieces of Gromovol would have gotten distributed over half a world after I made a few cutting remarks about his character and bad behavior.
I felt like one of the Voroshk now. I looked like one of the Voroshk. So did my beloved. The deal with the old men compelled them to refit their wondrous black costumes for us.
Those would make marvellous complements to our Widowmaker and Lifetaker armor.
Tobo and Shukrat, too, boasted the black and undefined look, Tobo having helped himself to Gromovol’s outfit.
It took only minutes to inter Gromovol, not far from the frozen corpses of several men who had been my friends. His final pleas still echoed when I told Lady, “I’m going down to the bottom of this hole. I want a look at that old bitch who’s been fucking up our lives for the last fifty years.”
“Are you crazy?” Tobo yelled. “I wouldn’t go down there. I’m nervous just being this close.”
“Then go back upstairs. Shukrat. Answer a couple of technical questions for me before you leave. Please?”
The black barrier that had frustrated Blade so was back in place. It put a terrible pressure on my mind. But the flying post did not notice it at all. The post kept moving. The Voroshk costume I wore stirred slightly, enclosing me more securely within its protection.
Although I know the names now I refuse to call post and costume by their proper, clunkily cumbersome Voroshk titles.
I passed through the barrier. Lady made a funny little sound as she came through behind me, like she did when we made love.
The scene was pretty much the way it had been described by others. What seemed to be a vast, open cavern without evident bounds, illuminated by no evident light source, and that extremely feeble. All that could be seen was a huge, ugly sprawl of flesh the color of polished eggplant. It did not move, even to breathe.
Kina looked like Shivetya’s homely big sister. Kina looked like the embodiment of all the dark attributes I had heard assigned her, under all her many names, since first I became aware of her existence. Kina looked like many dark things.
My memories of the next few minutes are completely unreliable.
Almost immediately the great hairless head turned our way. Kina’s mouth was open, exposing ugly dark fangs. She seemed to have a snake or lizard tongue. I did not recall that having been reported before in any of the conflicting myths, though her tongue was supposed to be long, the better to lap up demon blood.
The eyes of the Goddess began to open.
The immensity of her will smashed at me like a tidal wave breaking. The lights went out. For me.
“Looks like you were lucky this time,” Tobo told me. “Your post got you out of there.”
