City of Death

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Authors: Laurence Yep

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To Jackson, who will have his own adventures

 

Guide to Pronunciation of Kushan Names

Árkwi
(Ark-wee). Lord Tsirauñe's griffin.

Klestetstse
(Klays-tayts-tsay). More often shortened to Kles (Klays). Scirye's lap griffin, a gift from Princess Maimantstse.

Koyn Encuwontse
(Koin En-coo-w
ō
n-tsay). Iron Beak.

Kwele
(Kway-lay). Lady Sudarshane's griffin.

Lady Miunai
(Mee-oo-nai). A Sogdian lady near the Arctic Circle.

Lady Sudarshane
(Soo-dir-shi-nay). Scirye's mother.

Lady Tabiti
(Tuh-bee-tee). A legendary Sarmatian warrior chief.

Lord Resak
(Re-shak). A spirit of the Arctic.

Lord Tsirauñe
(Tsee-rou-nay). Scirye's father.

M
ā
ka
(Mo-kuh). An aspiring sorceress.

Nishke
(Neesh-kay). Scirye's older sister.

Nanaia
(Nuh-nai-uh). A goddess.

Nanadhat
(Nuh-nah-dat). The princess's steward and a relative of Princess Catisa.

Nanayor
(Nuh-nuh-yoar). A captain in the vizier's personal troop, the wolf guard.

Oko
(Oa-kao). A Pippal who once served with Nishke.

Pärseri
(Pir-say-ree). A ratlike creature called an akhu (Ah-koo).

Prince Etre
(Ay-tray). Kushan consul.

Prince Tarkhun
(Tur-koon). A Sogdian prince near the Arctic Circle.

Princess Catisa
(Ka-tee-si). A Sogdian princess.

Princess Maimantstse
(My-mun-tsuh-tsay). Cousin of Scirye's father.

Rapaññe
(Ruh-pun-nyay). Scirye's clan.

Sakre Menantse
(Suh-kray May-nun-tsay). A name for the Kushan Empire meaning “Blessed of the moon.”

Sakre Yapoy
(Suh-kray Yuh-poi). Another name for the Kushan Empire meaning “the Blessed Land.”

Scirye
(Skeer-yay). Mistress of Kles.

Riye Srukalleyis
(Ree-yay Sroo kull-lay-ees). City of Death.

Tarkär
(Tur-kir). Kles's clan.

Tute
(Too-tay). A lynx and friend of M
ā
ka.

Upach
(Oo-pak). An ifrit, a desert spirit who happens to live near the Arctic Circle.

W
ā
li
(Wo-lee). A Pippal who once served with Nishke.

Warmapo
(Wir-mi-puh). A griffin captain.

 

Contents

Title Page

Copyright Notice

Dedication

Guide to the Pronunciation of Kushan Names

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Afterword

Reader's Guide

Also by Laurence Yep

About the Author

Copyright

 

1

December 1941
Somewhere over the Asian steppes near the northern Kushan border

Scirye

“How fast do storms come in here?” Bayang the dragon asked, staring at the dark gray clouds boiling rapidly toward them from the east. The misty wave rolling toward them was at least a mile across and two miles long, and their shadows plunged the mountains beneath them into an ominous twilight.

Scirye and her companions were sitting on a great triangular wing that had been woven magically from straw, and Scirye tugged at a strand of her red hair as she wondered how long the flimsy mat would last in a tempest like that.

Suddenly the wing lurched upward. “Ho, fear not, lumplings,” boomed the great wind, Naue. For a wind, he was fairly pleasant company, except for a bad habit of boasting.

In Hawaii, they had saved the goddess Pele and, in return, she had helped them on their quest by summoning the Cloud Folk to weave the straw wing they rode on now. She had also charged the powerful zephyr, Naue, to carry them on their quest, and he had faithfully carried them to the Arctic and now into Asia. “No little drizzle can stop Naue the magnificent. He will just carry you above it.”

As Naue picked up speed, the sound of their passage rose to a high keening, and perhaps they would have been blown off the mat except for the magical frame of woven straw. The frame was little more than woven poles set upon four upright ones so that it resembled the sketch of a house, but its enchantment protected them as efficiently as brick walls would have.

Behind Scirye, the snow-covered steppes stretched like a huge sheet of cotton batting. It was so vast, so empty, so harsh. It had shaped her ancestors, the Kushans, into a warrior race as hard and sharp as steel. She had never appreciated just how tough they must have been—she knew that she herself could never have survived there.

Somebody as weak as she had no place chasing Badik the dragon and his employer, Roland, who was one of the richest men in the world. Worse, when they had stolen an ancient Kushan treasure and killed her sister, Scirye had been so blinded by rage that she had rashly asked the powerful goddess Nanaia to help her get her revenge. Now there was no question of dropping the pursuit because Nanaia always expected people to keep their word—or else.

Scirye's palm itched at the mere thought of the goddess, and she glanced at the glove covering it. There was a faint glow from Nanaia's mark, the number 3, though they could only guess what it meant. Scirye might have felt more reconciled to the bargain if the goddess had made it clear what She wanted Scirye to do.

Scirye and her friends had already survived a trip through the molten insides of a volcano and the sinking of an island to the freezing Arctic wastes, but their greatest trials were just ahead.

Her green eyes gloomily watched the mountains pass underneath them. Snow covered the mountains' shoulders and the steep black slopes looked as if some giant monster had raked its claws through the earth.

On the other hand, Scirye's lap griffin, Kles, had grown up in mountains like these, and the excitement of his homecoming had made her parrot-sized friend chattier than usual, eyes bright, eagle-shaped head jerking from side to side, and lionlike tail twitching as if he wanted to take in everything.

Upon her shoulder now, he fluttered his wings and crowed excitedly, “The Astär Mountains, the roof of the world.” Astär meant arrow in the old tongue, and the sharp peaks did look like arrowheads. “Home! We're home, lady. We—.” He dove suddenly, pinning a two-inch-high badger against the mat near a pouch. “Stay out of the supplies!”

The head of an indignant Koko wiggled up between two of Kles's claws. His round head seemed to be all gray fur except for the large, shining black eyes—made to appear even larger by the rings of black fur.

His round ears wriggled indignantly on top of his head as he piped in a barely audible voice, “I just wanted a snack. Transformation is hungry work.”

Another miniature Koko kicked the griffin's haunch. “Don't be such a pill. When we're this size, it won't be more than a nibble.”

“Yeah, you'll never notice it, you big bully.” A third Koko pounced on Kles's tail and began trying to pull the griffin off his prisoner. More tiny Kokos joined him in yanking at Kles until the exasperated griffin let go of his captive and swept his forepaws behind him, bowling little badgers left and right.

The air hummed as Leech floated over on his flying discs, his brown hair rippling about his head. He was a human boy about Scirye's age, and he had joined her quest when Badik had killed his friend Primo. “I thought you were trying to transform into a tiger?”

A dozen Kokos scratched their heads. “So did I,” they all chorused.

“Will you re-unite?” Kles snapped. “One of you is bad enough.”

“Keep your paws crossed that this works.” When the miniature badgers began muttering and making passes, their outlines shimmered. Immediately they began running toward one another, merging until there was a single, much larger badger again. “Whew, that's a relief,” he said, rubbing his fur vigorously. “But I itch all over now.”

As Leech squatted to scratch his friend's back, he asked Kles and Scirye, “How much further to the City of Death?”

“We find a peak called the Black Diamond and turn east,” the griffin explained.

Koko gave a shiver. “So why do they call it the City of Death anyway? Is it full of skeletons?”

“It was where Yi the Archer killed a terrible monster who was destroying the countryside,” Kles explained. “The grateful people built a temple in his honor, and so many pilgrims visited it that a city grew up near it. Many centuries later, the Kushans and griffins stopped an army of Huns there, but at great cost. Neither the defenders nor the invaders survived, and no one goes there now.”

“Except Roland and Badik,” Scirye said.

“Yes, except them,” Leech agreed. “But we'll stop them.”

Roland and Badik were heading there, where they hoped to find the last part of an ancient super weapon that would be capable of destroying a sun. They already had the bow of the fabled archer Yi, as well as the special archer's ring, for which they had killed Scirye's sister, Nishke, and injured her mother, Lady Sudarshane. Now the thieves were hunting for the arrows.

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