The Tower of Il Serrohe (56 page)

This was an open invitation for the Linksmin to resume their slashing attacks. The Loopohmin rushed past Don and the Nohmin. It was a screaming, bloody affair, ending in less than thirty seconds.

Two Soreyes somehow managed to escape and went stumbling down the stairs. The predators saw no point in following and, instead, sat licking their more minor wounds and cleaning Soreye blood off their rumpled coats.

Don was about to throw up again, but burning matters prevented it. He looked up and saw Sliktooth slide over the top step. So, along with the Nohmin, he ascended onto the platform. Two Soreyes were running around like madmen on fire. Sydewynder and Friar Scale. The bodies of hundreds of squashed ants covered the platform, sickening Don more than the Soreye carnage below.

Hail, brave little fellows! You sacrificed yourselves with no thought of your own safety. I can’t back off now. Already, countless lives here and down below have been spent. This is no game or stage show. It’s real and lives are being lost to the cause.

The Crotalmin, coiling his long body, now raised his head a good fifteen inches off the floor. The Soreyes were mesmerized in fear of his strike even as the Barbamin continued their attack. Loopohmin and Linksmin bounded up the stairs, refreshed. All four leaped onto the Soreye pair before they raised their eyes from Sliktooth or the Barbamin swarming at their feet. The chief and priest never uttered a scream, not even a whimper, as their throats were crushed. The snake moved in on them.

A long moment of silence followed.

Don revived himself and began looking around from the topmost vantage of the Tower.

He saw no one below. It was dead silent.

Thinking feverishly, he tried to reconcile this with what he had seen from the floor below. And the descending floors…

Don realized that from here, in front and below him, he must be looking into the future, hours, days, or maybe even years from now.

“‘
What of my footprints… preceding me?’” he muttered, the cryptic lament Scarflue, the captured Soreye, had uttered while held prisoner deep in the underground of Nohome. Now, they made sense. Scarflue was talking about how the Soreyes could see the future and thus anticipate the clanspeople’s action with precision.

The Valle Abajo looked much the same, though it wore a mask of peacefulness: no clanspeople, something shiny in a circle on the ground straight below, the Soreye village quiet and empty on a hot afternoon. Siesta time, maybe?

Strangely, there was still the sensation of vertigo since the Tower was not visible down the side.

Until moments before, this view might have provided a sense of security for the now dead Soreyes at his feet.

Breaking the silence, a ragged “caw” at his feet startled Don.

Now he could see a small willow cage below, holding a bedraggled crow. “What the—”

“
What is a Pirallt doing up here?” the crow asked, his voice breathless.

“
What is a crow doing here?” Don responded.

“
Corvimin, not ‘crow.’ Don’t be crude.” The Corvimin scanned the platform. “It’s so quiet, it’s creepy.  What’s happened?”

“
This is your lucky day. The clanspeople are liberating the Tower and kicking Soreye butt, at least up here, we are.”

“
Fascinating. Get me the hell outta here,” the crow said.

“
First of all, what are you doing here?”

“
Long story short, since the Soreyes re-built the Tower, they captured four of us Corvimin, including me. Two pairs of mates. They held one of each pair here captive while the others were forced to fly down to the valley to spy on the clanspeople… Say, I know why you look familiar, aren’t you that new little Soreye guy they were worried about—”

“
I’m not a ‘little Soreye,’ asshole! You first said I was a Pirallt—”

“
That was before I got a good look at you. What the hell are you anyway?” the crow asked.

“
A little of both, but I’m not from around here. Never mind about me. So the Soreyes used you to
spy
on the clanspeople?”

“
Yeah. I don’t quite get it, but they said some shit—sorry I’ve been around Soreye bad language lately—about how they could see things happening before they happened… Now what in the Great Black Bird does that mean? Anyway, problem was they couldn’t see too far into the valley.

“
They caught us, split up the mating pairs and threatened to kill one of us if the other betrayed them or didn’t come back in a timely manner… The other pair are dead, I think. One of them didn’t come back at all, so…”

Don thought a moment. “Let me see. One of you would go down and spy, but how do they know where to send you?”

“
Beats the hell out of me. I think they got an idea of who or where to watch by what they saw from this damned Tower. But there was a problem.”  The Corvimin stopped for breath. “Sorry, they don’t feed us so well, and we get a beating every time our mate is a little late getting back.”

“
That’s all right. So you go out where they think something is going on and gather information…”

“
Exactly. We had our vocal chords clipped so we couldn’t caw loud enough if we forgot we were supposed to be quiet or if we wanted to be discovered by the clanspeople. That’s why my voice is messed up. Anyway, it was a bitch trying to keep out of sight of those piss-ant Sianox. But they never saw us and we kept still so the haughty-assed bats couldn’t detect us.”

“
Why would you go along with that? It’s treacherous to your fellow clans—”

“
Bullshit! Most of the clanspeople don’t have much use for us because they think we steal their stuff more than the Sianox. But it’s merely jealousy because we’re smarter than them, except for the bats. So we’re not real loyal, but we’re not treacherous! However, would you sacrifice your mate for the good of the clanspeople?” the Corvimin challenged.

Don took pause. He thought about Raquela. Would he do anything for her? Absolutely. He looked at the beat up old crow and felt sorry for him. “Ok, point taken. So you fly out from here to spy?”

“
It’s not that simple. I don’t understand it, but when I flew out from here—while my mate stayed behind—suddenly it wasn’t the same day, according to the Soreyes.

“
I fly away and go where they send me to sneak around in the trees or under bushes to eavesdrop on a place where the clanspeople will be—now I remember seeing you and that little Nohmin rat along the trail toward the river a few days ago—but I have to wait for days and days because after I leave the Tower it’s like in the
past
when it was the
future
before I left the Tower… Doesn’t make any damned sense, but that’s what that fat priest kept talking about thinking we couldn’t understand what the hell it meant.  And he was right.”

Don thought again. “So, you go and find out whatever you’re supposed to and come back to report… Yeah, clever as hell. That’s how they know what’s going to happen in places beyond their view. They see some
result
of clanspeople action nearby in the future then have one of you backtrack to the past, or actually the present, down in the Valle to get the details. And they’re prepared for whatever happens later on.

“
It must mean they see the
possibilities
of what trouble the clanspeople could make for them a few days ahead, then set up an ambush to turn events in their favor. On the other hand, if they see events in the future as good for them, or at least having no harmful effect, they can coast with what happens without any action on their part,” Don mused.

The Corvimin chuckled. “Yes, like today… They saw the clans getting together for this disaster and thought it would be fun to let you attack so they could pick off a bunch of you at one time. They figured a big failure would put all the clans in their place. Of course, what they see in the future is limited to a few minutes of an event, if I understand it right.  Who knows?”

“
Then again if some overwhelming disaster was coming, the big shots could be sure their own asses were covered…and then let the chips fall where they may for the rest of the Soreyes,” Don said.

There was, no doubt, more to this, but Don had no time to contemplate the eventualities. Time paradoxes were too complicated to sort out right now.

“
Buddy, I’d like to chat more, but I’ve got my hands full.” Don stretched the willow branches apart enough to let the Corvimin out. “Go find your honey and tell her this shit is over. In fact, circle the Tower first so you can catch the next act. I don’t think it’s anything the Soreyes anticipated.”

“
Huh?” The Corvimin was confused but didn’t hesitate to exit the despised cage. Though exhausted, the elation of freedom energized him. “Go for it, strange Pirallt guy. I’ll fly once I get my breath. I think I know where my mate was sent. Bye. Good luck with whatever the hell you’re up to.”

Not having the luxury of more time, Don glanced at the still life scene of the future then rushed to the level below to look again on the scene of the present.

Jesus, I hope this works.
He addressed Jesus not as a curse or oath, but as the person he had learned about during the few short years of his childhood in catechism.

Jesus, please. Am I supposed to “see” something or “hear” something? When Nersite heard my panic call, did he really “see” me in his mind? Or was it his sharp ears hearing my call, recognizing my voice, and then seeing me in his imagination? And will the reverse be true? Will I be able to see, hear, and absorb their chants?

Far below, the clanspeople had begun to chant, murmuring like a monks’ convocation during mass. Over and over. Hunting chants, distraction chants, glassing chants, paralyzing chants, fear chants, every possible chant that could physically move, change, or disrupt an enemy.

Closing his eyes tightly, Don struggled to receive the chants.
Nothing. Dammit, nothing!

An unexpected calmness flooded over him. He felt a gentle pulsing of air at his left side, accompanied by the softest wing beat. He heard a rhythmic whispering, a familiar sibilant voice. But it didn’t irritate him as it had in the past. The voice held a sense of reassurance and support.

Don started to open his eyes and look at this presence, a sibilant voice said, “No.”

A flood engulfed him. In his mind he saw the Valle Abajo, not as the physical scene in front of him, but in its entirety. All the trees, plants, streams, open spaces, hills, animal tunnels and dens, miles along the river, birds and a certain crow flying across the sky with the clouds in grand array, all the desert wildlife. Everything.

The clanspeople in their thousands stood before him, speaking in their native languages, smiling, reaching out to hold him close to their warm bodies. He felt the power of their chants but not as the hapless receiver of so much power, confusion, and fear, but as a shepherd gathering his flock to lead them to the green fields and still waters.

The chants rising in the sky were, in his mind, like a swirling cloud of red and black which began rotating, forming a funnel that slowly descended over him. He guided the cloud from himself into the walls of the Tower, which began to glow and vibrate.

Below, a few clanspeople were distracted as they watched the cloud envelop the Tower. They could see only a faint outline of Don still standing at its eastern edge. Some resumed chanting while others simply stared.

The Soreyes below saw the same thing. They also saw something else.

The walls of the Tower began to glow a lurid red. The earth began to shake, and a rumbling assaulted their ears.

“
That bastard! Attack the Tower! Stop him!”

Shouts rang from dozens of Soreye throats. The frozen multitude took up arms and stormed their own Tower. They broke through the jam at the entryway, trampling the bodies of their own and sweeping aside piles of dead Soreyes on the stairs just below the platform where Don stood.

They were faced down by four snarling predators, a swarm of black ants spilling over the edge of the platform, and a coiled snake at the top of the stairs, while vicious little Nohmin threw glowing clods of the adobes from the top rim of the Tower. The clods burned prairie dog paws, but they continued to rain them down on the Soreyes below.

Don relaxed and slightly opened his eyes. He found himself in a fog with a storm of protest at his back.
They will protect me. Nersite, Netheraire, the Nohmin, Loopohmin, Linksmin, Sliktooth, and the Barbamin have my back. Somewhere, next to me is another who will not leave.

Way down below are the rest of the clanspeople and my dear Raquela. To hell with the Soreyes.

The Soreyes finally surged forward, overrunning and pushing Don’s protectors up the stairs, due mainly to the press of those behind them, not from newfound courage. They rushed onto the floor like a plague of locusts. The predators and Nohmin formed a final wall between them and Don, who stood calmly with his back to attackers and protectors alike.

In the fog, which had thickened, the Soreyes became disoriented. Yet they regained some rationality as the predators still confronted them with ferocity. In fact, most Soreyes, surging onto the platform and those already there, didn’t know exactly where Don stood. The continuing onrush of Soreyes from the stairs below started to push dozens of them out through the wide side openings of the Tower.