Geomancer (Well of Echoes) (67 page)

It was hard work for muscles that had not skied in months and she stopped as the ice came in sight. She must not pull a muscle and cripple herself.

Sitting on her coat on a tree trunk just above the ice and, watching a pair of deer grazing on lichen, she was startled by a high-pitched, keening cry coming faint down the river. Some chance reflection off the water must have carried it to her. Tiaan recognised it instantly.
The nylatl!

T
iaan’s first impulse was to flee. She could easily outrun it on skis. But the women and child would have no chance if it attacked.

Was it hunting her, or the amplimet? Tiaan had noted the look in its eyes when it had seen the crystal. Taking out the blade, hopeless weapon though it was, she headed back. It took all the courage she had.

Tiaan refused to think about that. If she had, she would never have been able to continue. The nylatl could be on the other side of the river, hunting a deer or a rabbit. If it was hunting
her
, going to the hut might lead it to them. She stopped halfway, not knowing what to do. Then she heard the scream.

It was a woman’s scream, shrill and cracked at the end. A cry of agony, for herself or for someone she loved. The nylatl must be there,
at the hut
.

She skied back as fast as she had ever gone. As she went, Tiaan tested the blade with her thumb. It was viciously sharp. A violent, bloody rage grew in her. If the nylatl had hurt them she would rejoice as she carved it open.

No further cry came. She heard nothing but the pounding of her heart and a roaring in her ears. This time she saw no living thing along the river. It was as if the entire world had gone into hiding.

Her knees felt soft by the time she curved around the river bank, shot through a straggly patch of pines and came out in a clearing. The hut was visible beyond the next patch of trees. All looked just as it had been before. She pressed on but saw no one.

‘Fluuni?’ she said softly. ‘Jiini? Lyssa?’

No reply. ‘Haani?’ she whispered. The child did not answer either. Perhaps they’d gone up to the lake to fish or try out the boat.

She slid forward a few more ski lengths. The back of the hut came into view, the boat leaning just as she had left it. Something stabbed Tiaan in the heart. She scanned the surroundings: up in the trees, down to the river. She saw nothing, but the nylatl could camouflage itself as well as a lyrinx. Going a bit further, she saw a large, crumpled shape in the shadow behind the hut. It looked like one of the women.

Tiaan tore at the ski bindings, which did not want to come off. Her foot caught, she tripped and landed on her palms. The blade went skidding across the snow, to stop just before the woman’s face. Her lime-blond hair lay on the ground. Tiaan recognised the coat.

‘Jiini?’ she whispered, reaching forward to brush the hair away. It was red at the ends, as were her furs and the ground beneath her. There was not enough left of her face to be recognisable. She was unquestionably dead.

As Tiaan crouched there, blade in hand, she became aware of a strange sound coming from inside the hut. A sort of
rending
noise. There was only one way to go in. Tiaan took a run-up, hurled herself at the low hanging and landed inside.

The sight that met her eyes was worse. Lyssa lay on the floor, even more horribly eaten than her sister. There was blood halfway up the walls and the scanty contents of the hut were scattered everywhere. Fluuni lay against the far wall, eyes staring, furs soaked in blood. A stone mallet, the kind used for pounding meat, hung from one hand.

The gruesome noise was coming from Lyssa’s body, which was moving though she could not possibly be alive. Tiaan’s hair stood on end. The nylatl must be inside her, feeding. And where was little Haani?

She circled around the fire pit, watching the body warily. Her foot grated against something – a carving knife. Taking it in her free hand, she held it out in front of her.

Something moved in Lyssa’s middle. It looked gruesomely like an eye staring at her out of wet flesh. Tiaan wanted to scream; wanted to be sick. She had to remind herself that Lyssa was dead and could feel nothing.

The nylatl came flying out, covered in blood and glistening strands. It skittered across the floor, directly at Tiaan. It was fast, though not as fast as before. Hopefully its injuries still troubled it. It seemed bigger too: the size of a small dog now.

She ran to her left, keeping cauldron and fire between her and it. It shot right over, at her face. She got the carving knife up in time, batting the beast away, though without wounding it. Her head began to throb and again her eyes were full of pinpricks. The nylatl was getting at her mind again.

Flipping in mid-air, it landed on its hind legs and sprang. She threw herself to one side. The claws caught in her sleeve, the creature swung around and went for her throat. The threads ripped, fortunately, and the blow missed by a whisker. As it landed she kicked it hard in the snout.

It struck the wall, fell and lay unmoving. Tiaan watched it, suspecting a ruse. A minute passed. She took a step towards it, blade down-hooked, then another. About to stab it, she saw its back legs tense.

She froze. The nylatl sprang but instead of going for her face, as she had expected, flew at her shin. Its teeth went though boot, trousers, sock, skin and flesh; she felt one tooth touch bone. She brought her other heel down hard on the join between head and body. The nylatl’s teeth tore down her ankle before the jaws let go.

Tiaan tried to crush it beneath her boot heel. It gave a tortured wail; she felt something give. Its claws scratched the dirt floor and it flung itself sideways. She was in too much pain to think straight. All Tiaan wanted to do was hurt it as much as it had hurt her; to kill it before it killed her.

She must have done some damage for it now moved with a dragging motion of its hindquarters. Before it could gather itself for another attack she booted it. Its armour clanged on the side of the cauldron and the nylatl fell into the fire. Screeching hideously, it lurched out again. Tiaan, back-pedalling across the room, put her foot on a wooden mug and fell flat on her back. Her elbow struck the ground. The knife clattered away. Her whole arm began to go numb.

The fall had winded her; she could hardly move. The nylatl came at her, moving slowly now, and she smelt its singed, carrion-flesh odour. It eyed her warily. She expected it to take her hand off with a single lunge, but it stood just a pace from her face, staring.

Hungry!

Was it playing with her, or was it afraid now? She clutched the little blade in her other hand. She would have to strike across her body, a clumsy stroke, and the blade was the wrong way around.

The nylatl arched its back. Its eyes were mesmerising. It leaned toward her, opening its mouth, which was a gory red. The blue tongue began to roll up at the edges. She felt paralysed. Was it hypnotising her?

It was going to deluge her in venom then eat her face off at its leisure. She forced her arm to move. Clear liquid dripped from the tip of its tongue. Tiaan squeezed her eyes closed.

There came a meaty thump and the nylatl went flying. A death-like Fluuni swayed behind her, the bloody stone mallet hanging from her hand.

The nylatl whimpered, dragged itself across the floor and out through the curtain, leaving a trail of mauve blood. Fluuni collapsed onto her knees. Her unmarked face was fish-belly pale, but her whole front was red.

‘Jiini?’ she whispered.

‘Outside,’ Tiaan gasped. ‘She’s dead. I’m sorry.’ She felt utterly useless.

Fluuni’s eyes slid across to Lyssa. No need to ask about her.

‘Where is Haani?’ asked Tiaan.

One blood-spattered hand pointed towards the cellar. Tiaan hobbled over and lifted the trapdoor. In the furthest recesses, Haani cowered. Tiaan did not know what to say to her. Could anything make up for the horrors she had seen, or imagined? She threw a fur over Lyssa’s middle.

‘Haani, come out!’ called Fluuni.

The child emerged warily into the light, then scuttled to Fluuni’s arms. Fluuni allowed her to weep for a minute or two before she pushed her towards Tiaan.

‘Tiaan mi. Tiaan mumu niss!’ She looked up at Tiaan. ‘Go with Tiaan. Tiaan iss mother now!’

Haani let out an awful wail and ran back.

‘Tiaan mumu niss. Mi!’ Fluuni gasped.

‘But …’ Tiaan was almost as bewildered as the child. ‘Her family …’

‘All dead!’ Fluuni’s arm swept the room. ‘Tiaan iss Haani’s mother now.’ She looked up pleadingly.

Tiaan did not know what to say. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I will be Haani’s mother. I will take her with me.’

Fluuni gave a tiny grunt. Blood ran out of her nose and she fell sideways. Tiaan knew that she was dead but checked her anyway. There was no doubt of it; her whole belly had been torn open.

Leaving Haani clinging to her aunt, Tiaan found a pack, clothes and furs the child’s size. She put in a wooden plate and other items Haani would need, and as much food as she could carry. Two furs had escaped the blood; Tiaan gathered them and a tiny canvas tent that was heavier than it looked. She could not have carried it had she been walking, but she could probably manage it skiing on flat ground.

There was nothing to be done for the women; the hut would not burn and there was no way to bury them in the frozen ground. She closed their eyes and dug the child out from beneath the furs. Haani screamed and burrowed back in. Pulling the covers away, Tiaan discovered that she had a small toy in one hand, a creature made from scraps of leather sewn together and stuffed with straw. It had a long body, small round ears, a duck bill and a flat, paddle-like tail. It looked like no animal Tiaan had ever heard of. Well, if it comforted her …

Tiaan led the child to the dead women, having her touch them and say goodbye. Then, hoisting up the pack, she took Haani’s hand and led her outside.

Haani tied her boots into the bindings of the small skis. One boot was badly worn. Tiaan hacked a piece of leather from the bottom of the boat, added it to her overloaded pack, tied on her skis and, taking Haani’s hand, set off down the river bank without looking back. Only much later did she realise that the child had not said goodbye to Jiini, her mother.

Not far away, the nylatl had found a burrow going down into the river bank, then up to a secure, dry and relatively warm home. A duck-billed creature dwelt inside. The nylatl had no trouble with it, or its helpless young.

When sated it curled up in the warmest spot and went into hibernation. It had many injuries to repair and that would take time. And when it finally woke, it would go on the hunt. The black-haired woman and the terrible, tantalising crystal could not hide. Wherever she took it, the nylatl would hunt it down. And then it would make the woman suffer for the torment of its existence.

T
he child said not a word that day, which was the most tragic part of the whole terrible affair. Haani skied to one side of Tiaan, or ahead, as if she wanted to get as far away as possible. She was an accomplished skier, better than Tiaan in these conditions. Her small round face, as pale as the snow, showed nothing but an icy bleakness. Tiaan felt culpable. She’d led the nylatl to them. If not for her, the creature would not exist. If not for her, their lives would never have been touched.

Her shin was excruciatingly painful but had not bled much, so she’d left it untreated. Getting well away, beyond the nylatl’s reach, was more important. They went by a number of villages, at the first of which children were carrying water from a hole cut in the ice. Tiaan had not thought about that problem, but of course water would be hard won here in winter unless they had a well that did not freeze. The children stared but did not wave. Haani did not even look at them, just shushed past with Tiaan following in her tracks.

In the middle of the day she called out to Haani, skied off the river, sidestepped up a steep bank and settled on a log. The child followed, skiing round and round. Tiaan suspected that, had she not called, Haani would have kept going straight down the river until she dropped.