Sunshaker's War (27 page)

“But we've already
been
through that,” David sighed in exasperation. “I don't know how to
work
the Tracks, and I think it's too dangerous to try to learn now. And I
don't
think it would be too cool to bring him into our World, for fear Finvarra'd come after him.”

“Which leaves Galunlati,” Calvin snapped bitterly. “Somebody
else's
World.” His face darkened, hardened, his voice became suddenly cold. “It's always that way with you folks, isn't it? You're always willin' to risk someone else's property, someone else's resources. What makes you think Uki'd be any more eager to have us go marchin' through there than anybody else? He doesn't want undue attention either, don't forget.”

“You got any better ideas?” David retorted, feeling unexpected anger, even though he knew the words were true.

“No, I
don't
have any other ideas,” Calvin spat. “But we're merry well
not
goin' through Galunlati!”

“Suppose it's okay, though?” Sandy interrupted reasonably, laying a hand on his arm. “It's possible, after all, and I'm sure if you think about what you said you'll realize that you've kinda overreacted.”

“My ass!” Calvin grumbled.

“Yeah, but you've gotta go there to report to Uki anyway,” Alec retorted. “There's no harm in bouncing the rest off him. All he can say is no. Maybe he'll even have some ideas we haven't thought of.”

“
Maybe
,”
Calvin conceded with a grunt. Finally the Indian stood, poured himself a cup of cider—frowned long and hard at it, and added a mere drop of bourbon. David raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, so I overreacted, and I'm sorry,” Calvin muttered. “I understand where you're coming from. But there's more to it than that.”

“Yeah, well, I shoulda thought it out better too,” David admitted, crossing to hook an arm around Calvin's shoulders. “But hey, guy, we've gotta get goin'.”

“Goin'?
Goin'
where?”
He paused. “Hey, no
way,
man; you're not goin' with me! Uh-uh!”

“Why not?” David shot back. “We've been before and Uki knows us. Besides, you need someone who can explain the situation in Faerie.”

“But how'll you get there?”

“Same way as you,” David replied, fingering the pouch in his pocket. “I'll burn my scale.”

“It's not treated. They have to be treated to do that.”

David raised an eyebrow. “Do they? Oisin gave me mine. Maybe it
was
treated. And anyway, there's only one way to find out.”

“Either that, or he could go and bring you back one,” Sandy said, sparing a wry glance at her sweetie.

Calvin's nose twitched sideways in a sour grimace. “Oh hell,” he grumbled, “I don't guess there's any real choice, is there? I mean, what you said really does make sense. 'Sides, I'd hate to have to make two trips. And actually,” he added slyly, looking at Alec, “I
do
happen to have a couple of spares. They're some I used to practice the technique on that makes it possible for 'em to transit worlds.”

“Then you could fix mine for sure,” David said. Calvin shook his head. “Takes too long and I don't have all the ingredients, so I guess you'd better use mine. I mean it's a risk, and all; I won't lie about that. But I think it's safe. As best I can tell if it doesn't work, it simply doesn't work.”

“Doesn't strand you in Limbo, or anything?” Alec inquired doubtfully.

David looked at him. “You don't have to go if you don't want to. We won't hold it against you.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know I don't—and I don't really want to—but, well, I guess I owe it to Uki. I mean if I can help him out, I suppose I should.”

“Even if it involves doin' more magic?” David asked.

“Even if it does.”

“It hurts,” Calvin warned. “Hurts a lot
more
to go back. That's why I don't go often.”

“I can stand pain,” David told him flatly, while Alec slowly nodded.

“Just think about poor Finno,” Liz reminded them. “Think about iron burning you forever.”

“Are you going too, Liz?” Sandy wondered.

Liz shook her head. “I don't have a scale. Do you?”

“No,” she sighed wistfully, gazing speculatively at Calvin. “At least not yet. I want to go when I've got time to talk, and that isn't now.”

“And time's a-wastin',” David said, and that ended it.

*

Ten minutes later, David watched as Calvin built a tiny fire in the circle of the stones at the center of his Power Wheel and, when it was burning well, took the three scales, placed them on a piece of corrugated cardboard, arranging them so that the points touched in a rough pyramid. He then set it carefully atop the flames.

“Best we hang on to each other,” he whispered. “In case things
don't
come off.”

David nodded and grabbed Calvin around the waist with one arm, drawing Alec in with the other as the Indian maneuvered them so that they stood almost atop the flame, the smoke already clogging their nostrils. And then the cardboard caught, and an instant later burned through. One flame touched a scale, and the world exploded into light.

“Hyuntikwala Usunhi. “

David screamed as his body was torn apart, flung into another place and reassembled. Calvin had warned him, of course, but he was not prepared. The last time he'd followed a rabbit. It had taken a long time, but there'd been no pain. He thought for a moment he might crawl back from Galunlati—maybe crawl on broken glass and shot-up tin cans. Anything to avoid doing that again.

He blinked, felt the residue of pain leave him, but was not ready for the heat that already burned against his skin: the too-hot sun of Galunlati.

Chapter XIV: Shuttle Diplomacy

(Galunlati—summer)

David wiped his brow and looked around, already perspiring from the double-dose of Galunlati sun that came partly from the sky and partly reflected up at him from the blazing white sand of Uki's Power Wheel. He had not been there before, though he had heard Calvin mention the place, and usually such things roused his curiosity. But this time he would have given a lot to be lying in a dark forest pool somewhere, cooling his heels in mountain water. That was the problem: there was no wind to cool them, not even enough to twitch the foliage on the sentinel cedars—scarcely surprising, given that Uki was a lord of the weather and that even a breeze would have disturbed the patterns wrought in the scorching sand. But now that lack of breeze only made it hotter. David risked a glance skyward, saw the sun unnaturally bright, unnaturally red. He looked away quickly, but even that brief glimpse had given him afterimages and made his head hurt. He could not tell if the surrounding trees were browning, or if that were only an optical illusion born of over-stressed eyes.

Calvin saw his actions and nodded mutely, and David thought he looked worried—as worried as he'd ever seen him.

“Whew,” David laughed nervously. “I see what you mean about travellin' that way. I wouldn't want to do it any more than I had to.”

“Tell me about it,” Alec agreed, and David noticed his friend was very pale.

“I
did
tell you,” Calvin shot back. “Maybe you'll listen next time.”

“We
needed
to come,” David retorted, flashing Calvin a warning glance. “You know that.”

Calvin nodded sourly, and David wondered what had brought on his sudden bout of moodiness.

“Hot,” Alec ventured.

“Hotter'n when I left,” Calvin muttered grimly, but David thought he was trying to get a grip on himself. “And that was only a day ago, more or less. Even allowin' for the time differential, that's bad.” He paused. “Something else's wrong too: we called on Uki, and the scales usually take you to whoever you call on, unless you're thinkin' real strongly about a different location—but we wound up here.”

“So you think…?”

“I think it's another function of Lugh's latest…indiscretion.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” David sighed. “But jeeze, could it have made so much difference so soon? I mean, crap, man; we're still dealin' with a friggin'
star
here, and a hell of a lot of distance.”

“And forces we don't understand,” Calvin finished. “And those forces focusin' through
others
we don't understand. But we ain't gonna get any answers here. Come on boys, let's travel, it's about a half hour hike.”

And with that he led the way into the woods.

“You know,” Alec mused as they shouldered through the encroaching laurel and followed Calvin onto a path, “it's too bad we couldn't convene some kind of grand council—take folks from our world and Galunlati and Faerie and set them together and talk cosmology, try to figure all this out. Our physics and their magic, and…”

“You sound like Sandy.” Calvin chuckled in spite of himself. “And actually, I'd like to see that too. Find out about the Sidhe and all, how they got here, and all that. And then set Uki down and get the history of Galunlati, and see how that jives. All I know about it so far is that it's essentially a made place.”

“Made?” Alec wondered aloud. “By whom?”

“I'll tell you later,” Calvin said. “It's too complex to go into now.”

“But Calvin!”

“Shh,” Calvin whispered. “I need to think.”

They walked in silence for the next several minutes, and David was grateful for any chance to relax—to take in mental energy instead of spending it. Oh, it was still hot there in the woods, but at least it was pretty as well, and for the moment he didn't have to be responsible. Thus, he was a little disappointed when Calvin's abrupt “Ho, we're nearly there,” brought them to a halt.

“What…?” Alec began.

“Shhh!”
—from Calvin.

Alec frowned but David laid an arm on his shoulder and cupped his hands around his ears, motioning toward the trail before them.

Calvin suddenly trotted on ahead and was soon gone from view. They followed as quickly as they could, given the terrain, and David saw Alec's nod of acknowledgment as he became aware of what David had noted. First it was a sound—more a vibration, actually—that crept through the moss beneath their feet. Like distant thunder it seemed, but David knew it for its true self: Hyuntikwalayi—Where-it-made-a-noise-as-of-thunder, the vast waterfall that in his World overlapped Tallulah falls. But the closer they came, the more he became aware of a second sound: a sort of low-pitched chanting.

The way brightened ahead, and David caught sight of Calvin once more. An instant later they stepped into a
wide, rocky clearing. Straight ahead, maybe a hundred yards off, a stream cut the open place from north to south, its upper reaches lost in a mass of mountains. A trail ran beside it, David knew from past experience, though it eventually bent off to the northwest before going north again—ultimately to Atagahi, the magical lake of healing.

To the right, though, the view was far more evocative, for that way the stream plunged abruptly over cliffs into a spectacular deep gorge. A wisp of mist arose from beyond, and the sound was louder, almost deafening. Rocks rose to a gentle peak right beside the point where the river dived over, and at that point a figure stood, arms outstretched, gazing at the sky.

It was Uki, though David had forgotten how tall the Chief of Wahala was, how disturbingly white his skin shone—though his bones and features were those of Calvin's people. As it was, he resembled a near-naked version of the statue of Christ overlooking Rio de Janeiro. David could not make out the words of his invocation, so merged were they with the thunder of waters.

Calvin signed them to a halt, and they paused until the chanting ended. Eventually Uki's shoulders sagged, and he turned. It was a moment before he saw them, but then he looked up and quickened his pace in their direction. An instant later he had reached them, was extending his hands in the style he had learned from David the last time he was there. David had to crane his neck to look into his face, and when he did, he started at the change. Worry had etched lines where no lines had been, had deepened those few creases already present, hollowed the cheeks beneath the high cheekbones. If an ageless being could be said to have aged, Uki had done so.

“Siyu, adawehiyu,”
Calvin replied formally, bowing:
Greetings, very great magician.

“Siyu, adawehi,”
Uki replied in kind, nodding to each of them. But then his stern face broke into a wide, welcoming grin.
“Siyu! Edahi, Sikwa Unega, Tsulehisan- unhi!”
he cried to Calvin, David, and Alec in turn,
greeting them with their names in the archaic Cherokee he spoke: He-Goes-About, White-'Possum, and The-Resurrected-One respectively. Then, more seriously, “You have returned, Edahi, but I fear you bring no good message.”