Darkness Risen (The Ava'Lonan Herstories Book 4) (13 page)

CHAPTER
VII

the light, lonely in body and spirit,
turned....

The Ashan Plains were lonely in the light of Av’dawn,
the silent bodies that had been left there quietly putrefying. Wumans in the
garb of the warru of the High Family and kati’yori, all with terrible wounds
now given over to rot and corruption, and the inevitable scavengers, lay
scattered about as they had fallen. The other bodies, those of mirrli, had vanished,
leaving only black blood staining the grass and soaked into the ground. The
souls had been taken care of - but there were still the remains with which to
deal.

A warm breath of av’rita ghosted over the plains,
then a single man, a tall warru with skin as dark as aging malagon and a scar
running down one side of his face, stepped out onto the plains from an av’tun.
Behind him, the very gates of T’Av’li could be seen, briefly, before the av’tun
disappeared. He stared expressionlessly about him, where bodies sprawled obscenely
in impossible poses and kati’yori blood mixed freely and congealed with wumans’.

Without expression still, he picked his way out of
the center of the slaughter field, not even wrinkling his nose at the smell of
decay. At the edge he surveyed the killing plain once more, before turning his
back and moving a little ways away, to a place of unbloodied grass. He reached
into the slim pack slung across his back under a blood-red dom’ma, and pulled
out four clay disks, each one inscribed with flowing, stylized, animal-in-Av’s-glory.

These he set down in the grass in a trapezoid. Then
he moved to a point before the clay disks, so that the trapezoid became an
arrow head with him as the point. He summoned av’rita, and his right index
finger-tip began to glow. With it he drew a glowing symbol in the air before
him, with four other, smaller symbols, similar to those on the disks, above it.
He turned again, to face Av.

“Bring forth the
Ones

Whom Duty calls

Within forests
of black

Within frost walls

In reaches high

And valleys
unknown

Answer Av’s cry

All of Av’s
Own.”

Slowly, one by one, av’tuns appeared over the clay
disks. The first was a man, slightly shorter than the rite-caster, with twin
short swords across his back. Behind him was a city nestled in a range of
snow-capped mountains. He was a medium mocha, broad of shoulder and chest, and
a light sprinkling of sweat immediately popped out on his brow.

The second was a woman, a few cycles older than both
men. She was a rich, reddish-brown tone, tall and slender as a young palm tree.
She had two of the larger ajadine jraa pacing like sentinels at her sides. She
came from a place of jungles with a village of graceful, fluid tree houses.

Then came a short, androgynous wuman wrapped from
head to toe in rust red, except for the eyes, which were a curious gold, like
the eyes of Av. This one stepped from a dark place, from which little light
escaped.

The last to exit, a younger woman, had a do’grine
graa in her arms and three abarine graa pacing around her. Behind her were a
range of coastal cities on the edge of a glittering violet sea. All of the
cats, large, medium and small, wore collars studded with pink pearls.

The four stood silently before the first man,
clearly the leader, peopling the savanna with their presences and power. They
then turned, still arrayed in the precise arrowhead formation, and looked, in a
long pause of motionlessness, over the scene of death of their comrades
expressionlessly.

The leader moved away from the place of past carnage.
The others followed him.

The others set about making a sparse camp, cooking
raising obin’tu, sharpening weapons, and casting rites of cleansing and
preparation and protection. The older woman, N’mbu’yi, looked at the leader,
nodded, and went back to the scene of mayhem. She stripped off her outer de’siki
and sat in meditation. Her companion beasts flanked her once more, laying their
heads down on their large forepaws.

The other warru seemed to ignore the incognizant
member of their group - nothing would be gained by looking at her, there being
no outward sign of what she was doing. When the meal was ready, they fed her
broth and tiny tidbits of food. The felines got pieces of raw meat and water. N’mbu’yi’s
body responded, but her eyes, glazed and half-closed, registered nothing of the
others’ actions. At measured times she was led by the other woman to relieve
herself; the others bathed her, then replaced her on her mat, all without
uttering a single word or ‘tunning a single thought. Throughout the eve, one or
another of them kept vigil over her. At appointed times the ritual care,
feeding and washing were repeated, and the four waited.

the light,
immersed in the infinite gloom of space, turned...

N’mbu’yi sat in the rhythms of a special rite, slow
and heavy with the heart and breath of her large feline friends. Her rite was
like a mirror of the Rite of Seeking, but instead of casting for the light of
an individual, this rite sought the light of the world and gathered it in.
Their thoughts and heartbeats rose on the flowing breeze like low, song-like
words, beating out a curious, complex harmony. Their breath began to deviate
from their normal rhythm, striking the wind in an intricate pattern, their
chests, however, neither rising nor falling. This interweaving of breath and
heart beat took the place of drums to create the underlying bridgework to the
rite they wove. This rite was special, however, in that it moved, not just
through the web of av’rita permeating the space of the immediate area, but also
through that elusive aspect of av’rita that touched
time
; for time was
an aspect of light. This rite sought back along the paths of light, to a
gathering of av’rita when each particle of light had been born or bounced off
the same thing at the same time, recording for at least a little while, the
nature of that thing.

In N’mbu’yi’s eyes the light about her and her
ajadine jraa seemed to distort slightly, as of air in the presence of heat.
Then the light began to move, like winds gently blown from the heart of Av.
Before the three seated on the naked plains a net of glistening light strands
spread outward, sifting and sorting through the waves of light that streamed by
faster now, capturing some and letting most others pass through.

In the Av’wind’s ghostly movements, the shades of
things and animals and movements and occurrences flowed past. It was an aspect
of the nature of av’rita that all knew but had rarely ever seen demonstrated so
dramatically. All knew that av’rita carried information - any occurrence, any
object or event existing in the presence of light left its mark, and light
carried that information, though how far and for how long was unknown. It was
this aspect of Av that allowed one to see, and to av’tun. N’mbu’yi was seeing
this in the shifting images born on the wind of light.

What she sought had a flavor of
here
.

The glittering threads folded inward and the wind of
illusions slowly died away. And after a turn and a half of rite-casting, the
warru woman blinked and came back to herself by degrees, holding a sphere of
sparkling brilliance before her. The other warru noted the glow and came to
check on her.

“I believe I have captured it,” she murmured,
groggily. The vigilant warru gathered closer around her, their gazes bent on
the sphere. It began to expand and, surprised, they moved out of the way,
watching as it superimposed itself onto the scene of carnage. And then it
opened, spreading flat upon the grass, disgorging its precious information to
waiting eyes. Eve turned into morn, and flickering, half-transparent
impressions began to move and take life in the space above the flattened
spheroid. There, the egwae was riding along in loose formation, foolishly
confident of their security and secrecy. Then one of the group stopped, and
seemed rooted in place, the first signs of panic beginning in the kati’yori,
and then in the young woman rider, the Librarian. A warru grabbed her reins,
speaking soundlessly to her. In the distance, the spectators could just see the
splash of tawny gold blending into the velvet green of the grass.

Suddenly the Librarian’s kati’yori went wild,
bucking and rearing up, screaming in silent rage and fear. Another threw its
rider completely, bolting off across the savannas. The entire grisly play of
dying shades was acted out for them, until the egwae av’tunned away, presumably
to safety. They watched without visible emotion, except for the burning flame
of fury in their eyes.

Several moments went by, but the image did not fade.
Soon, shadowy figures moved out of the tall grasses and shallow copses to
inspect the gruesome scene. They were blurry, indistinguishable, even in the
open. One leaned over the warru who had been thrown, who was gravely injured,
dying, but not dead, then reached a blurred appendage and took the woman by the
throat, throttling her. They hunted through the dead, and dying, killing with
silent glee those already on the path to the Beloved but not yet with Him. They
desecrated the bodies as much as they could, then turned to herding the living
mirrli into av’tun before them and dragging away the dead mirrli corpses
behind.

N’mbu’yi closed her hands and the images folded back
between her palms like an eve bloom closing. When she opened them again, a
white crystal sphere showed the captured scenes of destruction. She collapsed,
the sphere falling from her limp hands. One of the others picked her up.
Another grabbed her tools and mat and the image sphere. The last coaxed her
ajadine jraa to their feet. They returned to the camp, caring for the exhausted
woman. Then the four busied themselves with the disposition dead, building for
each fallen warru a pyre, and burying the kati’yori corpses.

the light
turned...

The small group of warru allowed N’mbu’yi to rest
through the eve. They all were up at first light, making their ablutions and
morn devotions before sitting down in lorn.

“The mirrli had collars,” the shorter man said, by
way of opening. There was no formal acknowledgement of rank among them, no
ceremony. “The collars had pearls.”

The leader pulled out a small, dull black box. “Open
it cautiously.” He waited as the others inspected the contents, each pair of
eyes growing flint hard as they gazed upon the object within.

“Blasphemy,” the smallest warru hissed, not touching
the box.

“We believe that those responsible for the slaughter
are also responsible for the manufacture of these,” the leader said, his voice
colorless. “We need to find where these - abominations - are coming from. Find
the pearls - and we may find the heart of the conspiracy.”

“Where do we start?” the small warru asked. “We are
far behind those who oppose the High Queen. Trailing their movements while they
perpetrate these atrocities will avail us little.”

“You are right. Going to the beginning may give us
clues, but might not help us head them off,” the leader concurred. “But our
enemies have given us a path to follow, that might let us intercept them.”

“What path?” the younger woman asked.

“The pearls themselves.” He told them about the
Trade Agreement that circumvented the Aheka Tribe’s monopoly. “If we can
penetrate the Trade fronts, we can find who has been buying them and who has
been distributing them.”

“But that won’t head off the attacks,” N’mbu’yi,
protested. “We can bring them to justice, but their underlings will continue without
them, I suspect. I don’t see how Trade helps us there.”

“These pearls can only be - turned - while they are
still active. The sale of active pearls outside the Priestess-hood is a crime.
The Priestesses who are supposed to denature them cannot hide behind Trade
fronts. They will answer for failure of their duty.”

“Do we know which Temples are responsible?” the
younger woman asked.

“There are two of which we can be certain. I have
already checked one. It was empty, deserted. My hope is that the other will be
more fruitful.” He lifted an eyebrow.

The others glanced at each other, nodded
concurrence, and broke camp. Within two san’chrons, the plains were lonely once
again, devoid even of the company of the dead.