A Whisper of Wings (68 page)

There!

The girl went stiff as green winged barbarian strode forward through the fight. Daimïru stared at his face and bared her thirsting fangs.

“Kotaru!”

He turned and looked into her eyes, and the battle seemed to freeze.

Daimïru felt the lust begin to burn. Twice he had escaped her! He had dared to defy Zhukora’s Dream. She stripped aside her mask and gazed into the soul of her enemy.

Suddenly he remembered trees! There had been soft green shadows and a world of soaring ferns. And eyes; eyes as green as pools and as deep as haunted dreams. Lovemaking while the distant rain hammered on the leaves… The fear and glory of that one first precious time.

Kotaru. His name was Kotaru!

Steel ripped towards his face. Kotaru hurtled himself away and felt her dao rip past his wing. He launched a kick and shoved the girl aside. Kotaru staggered back and stared in shock, his whole world wrenched apart by memories.

Daimïru ripped herself out of the mud and flew into the attack. Blonde hair streamed like fire as she howled out for his blood.

“Keketál!”

A sling bullet snapped the air, and Daimïru rolled and dodged aside. Harïsh leapt into the way and ripped her war club from her belt. Kotaru stared up at his wife, loving her, needing her, appalled by the images in his dream…

Harïsh uncoiled a weighted line tied to the hilt of her club while Daimïru purred and swirled her knives. Harïsh moved slowly forward to her prey, keeping between Daimïru and her husband.

His wife began to swing her weighted line. The two women faced each other like snarling cats. Kotaru snatched up his oita and made to join the fight until Harïsh moved in his way.

“Go! Back off! She’s mine! She’s mine!”

“Keketál loves you!”

Kotaru reeled back and headed for his reserves. Harïsh felt him go, then set her fangs and stared at the eyes of pure insanity. Daimïru gazed into Harïsh’s face, craving for her blood, her tail lifting as she trembled in arousal. Harïsh shifted her club and moved into the attack.

“He’s mine! I don’t know what you are and I don’t know what he was. But he’s mine now.

“He’s mine and I’ll kill you to keep him…”

Chapter Twenty Eight

Harïsh whipped her snare line through the air; Daimïru snarled and rolled aside, the stone weight chipping lacquer from her helmet. She made a lunge towards Harïsh’s face, screaming out for blood. Harïsh leapt overhead and turned a somersault. She landed spinning, scything with the weighted cord. The savage parried, making the cord whirl madly as it wrapped about her blades. Harïsh gave a shout of triumph as she ripped back on the line, and the steel knives suddenly jerked from Daimïru’s hands.

Harïsh hefted her war club for the kill, but Daimïru’s mad eyes smiled. The woman slowly held aloft a severed head, and her aura blazed with sickly light.

Harïsh was smashed back by a terrific blow, and then another and another. Blood flew from her mouth, and then an unseen fist exploded against her groin.

The egg!

Harïsh sobbed in panic, realising just how much she had put at risk. With a wild shriek of hate Daimïru kicked the girl into the mud, then snatched up a rock and tried to smash Harïsh’s teeth. The plainsgirl hunched and took the blow on her helmet crest, and sparks flew in her eyes. Daimïru gibbered as she tried to smash Harïsh’s brains.

Harïsh desperately groped out for a weapon, ripping her sling from about her helmet’s brow. She whipped the weapon into Daimïru’s face, and the savage screeched and tumbled back, shielding her eyes.

Harïsh rolled and found her club, while Daimïru cartwheeled to one side and ripped out her hunting knife. The two women started forward, when suddenly the whole world filled with light…

Harïsh’s club slowly spilled down from her hand. A new sunrise flooded through the swamplands, ruffling fur like a gentle breeze. Battle cries slowly drifted into silence; warriors slowly came to a halt as something soft and beautiful stole across the field.

The radiance washed the armies with a dream of peace, rushing across the floodlands like a powerful, silent dawn. At its heart there stood a naked girl with eyes of shining green. Where she passed, she left the precious memories of love. It was like smelling fresh made bread upon a rainy afternoon; it was laughter on a summer’s night, or the smell of rain on grass. Men’s weapons fell as images of beauty came flooding back into their minds.

These were the precious things of life. Not war, not pain and death. The Silent Lady wept, and the warriors were filled with shame.

Rooshïkii stood in Shadarii’s way, a severed head hanging in her hand. The young girl sobbed as Shadarii touched her face. The Silent Lady gently eased the trophy from her grasp and forced the girl to meet its gaze. Rooshïkii gagged and wept, then pressed herself back against a tree, her chest heaving as she tried to shrink away.

Rooshïkii slowly came into the Silent Lady’s arms. Shadarii kissed her on the eyes, folding her against her heart. She took Rooshïkii’s pain away and left her clean and new.

Alpine warriors slowly looked down at the heads dangling from their belts, then quickly cast the things away. Men folded up and retched while others tried to wash their hands in grief. Shadarii closed her eyes and reached down into her power. With a sudden blaze of light the dead skulls split, and Ka shot up into the ïsha like ten thousand streaming stars. Shadarii slowly drew them down into her presence and calmed them with her peace.

Kïtashii and Tingtraka walked in Shadarii’s wake. There was Mrrimïmei and Totoru, the sea peoples and pilgrims. Where Shadarii passed, the wounded healed and rose; dead souls swirled up to dance with her in joy. The warriors stared at her innocence and were ashamed. Combatants drew apart and stared at the ground in silence.

Shadarii passed between them all, tears streaming from her eyes. The soldiers slowly followed her; savages and shepherds, commoners and kings all rose up to reach into the Silent Lady’s light.

“What! What is it?”

Zhukora whirled upon her guards in fury. The men were staring at the skull masks on one another’s faces. One man slowly peeled away his helmet, looking down in wonder at the hideous thing he had been wearing with such pride. Zhukora stared at the man in shock, one hand reaching up to clutch her breast.

“What are you doing? Pick that up!”

“It-it’s only a mask.” The man looked down at the painted wood. “Only a mask…”

“Only a mask?” Zhukora’s antennae jerked in amazement. “The Skull-Mask is our symbol. You are the chosen! You live only for The Dream. You have already sacrificed your lives to our cause!”

The bodyguards walked towards a strange glow out on the field, letting their weapons fall behind them. Men smiled and let the brightness shine into their eyes, hate and fury draining from their minds. Zhukora felt her power slip like water through her hands.

“Serpent! Serpent what’s happening? Do something! Stop them!”

*It’s HER. It’s Starshine! She’s stealing thy power for her own!*

Suddenly a long forgotten presence flooded though Zhukora’s mind. The woman gave a scream of rage, snatched up her spear and exploded through the air upon a shaft of flame. With a wild howl of fury, she flung herself across the sky.

Shadarii!

The crippled bitch had come to steal The Dream! Zhukora streaked onwards to make a sister’s death.

Harïsh arched in release as something healed inside her. The pain went away, and her fury eased. The girl found herself surrounded by a sea of people; savages and plainsmen standing side by side. The girl blinked up at the mingled armies and felt her spirits soar.

A naked woman gazed down into her eyes. The Silent Lady! Harïsh panted and laid one trembling hand across her womb. The egg still lay safe inside her. Harïsh babbled incoherent words of thanks as she saw the Silent Lady smile.

A tall man burst his way out through the crowd. Harïsh gave a sob and crushed her husband hard against her heart while Keketál buried his face inside her golden hair, completely lost to the world. Harïsh wept inside his grasp, laughing as she wound her fingers through his fur.

“I’m going to have a baby! A baby!” The girl tried to turn his face towards the Silent Lady. “Keketál! Oh Keketál, do you see? I told you she would come!”

A sudden hush fell across the field, and Shadarii felt a heat against her back. Warriors drew away as a deadly presence filled the air.

“Cripple!”

Shadarii gazed in sadness at the shrieking thing that once had been her sister. Serpent coiled and blazed about Zhukora’s soul, and Shadarii grimaced as she felt Starshine shriek in challenge. Zhukora hung on wings of fire and bared her fangs.

“Shadarii. The cripple has come at last! Do you want it, sister? Do you feel my power?” Zhukora alighted to the ground, as naked and exquisite as a poisoned blade. “You have annoyed me, sweet sister! You have not stolen my power for long. I shall not let you have them. Their souls belong to me.”

Mrrimïmei stared between the sisters, her eyes turning wild with hate. Daimïru clasped Zhukora’s thighs as though seeing her salvation.

Zhukora sanctified Daimïru with her gaze.

“I am absolute. I am perfection. I am The Dream! Now I shall kill you, sister. I shall drink your blood and snuff you out like a candle in the dark…”

Tingtraka tried to drag Shadarii back into the crowd, desperately hauling at Shadarii’s arms. Her teacher gently slipped away, pushing back Tingtraka’s hands. She looked into her apostle’s eyes and slowly shook her head.

Shadarii kissed her most precious followers on the eyes and mouth; the gesture of farewell. Shadarii drank in the growing sunset as the world turned hushed and still.

Finally the time had come.

Two naked sisters faced each other through air as sharp as knives as they gave themselves into a hidden world of power.

A wind stirred Shadarii’s streaming copper hair. She reached out with her mind to feel the water and the trees; she felt the river at her back and the reeds dancing in the wind. Shadarii-Zha, the Silent Teacher, closed her eyes and opened up her arms.

Starshine shrieked like a spiteful scorpion, then flung her energy into Shadarii’s waiting soul. Not the healing power she loved, but pure, raw force; energy to split rocks and tear matter into light. It was the means to strip the flesh from Zhukora’s smoking bones. Shadarii felt the power, and let it trickle from her grasp, simply casting it aside.

Starshine gave a tiny wail of shock.

Zhukora’s lethal power coiled about her like a storm; weapons gleamed and fur shone. And there, in the middle of it all, Shadarii stuck out her tongue.

Zhukora gaped as Shadarii shot into the air and bared the backside of her tail. A lightning bolt sizzled across the sky, but Shadarii dodged the blast with ease. She posed and tossed her streaming hair, beckoning Zhukora to follow her across the stagnant swamps. The black demon snarled and instantly tore off in pursuit.

The sun shone, the skies sang, and Father Wind laughed through Shadarii’s hair. For a little while the girl forgot the pain of parting. It had been too long since she had played her jokes; too long since wicked laughter filled her soul! The dancer sped across the streams and bubbling pools, leading her sister far away from helpless crowds. Zhukora laboured in her wake and shook her fist.

“Fly! Fly you little bitch! It won’t save you!”

Lightning raved across the swamps. Shadarii rolled away and felt the bolt stab into an old dead tree. Starshine thrashed in terror deep inside Shadarii’s head.

*Kill her! Fight! I have the power - use it! Burn the bitch-queen from the sky and take her subjects as your own!*

Shadarii laughed her silent laugh and gave herself into her dance. Zhukora lashed energy uselessly across the sky. Shadarii gave a grin and dove between the trees.

To use power, you must understand it. The dead, drowned trees were Shadarii’s weapon. Utterly devoid of ïsha, they sucked Zhukora’s energy down into their void. Zhukora was left to wonder why she missed and missed again; always her sister dodged from harm’s way. Shadarii offered up her life as bait to draw the demon on.

Starshine lunged in panic as somewhere in the distance, Serpent screamed in lust. The air shivered to another ïsha blast. Starshine frantically crammed power into Shadarii’s mind, gibbering in fear as she felt Serpent close the range.