The Way Into Magic: Book Two of The Great Way (35 page)

But it didn’t. It moved through the trees, six feet above the ground, after the fleeing archers. It didn’t even look like it was flying; it was moving so slowly, weaving back and forth and languorously beating those wings. It moved as if it was swimming through the air.
 

Magic.
Ivy and the others had to be warned. This serpent had been transformed by The Blessing. Cazia rolled to her feet, rustling the grass
 
around her.
 

The flying serpent turned to look at her.
 

Fire take the whole world, couldn’t she have waited just a few breaths more? The creature began to circle around, weaving through the trees, and Cazia bolted into a hard run.
 

She circled the fallen log and found what she’d expected: one of the archers lay atop a bloody mat of broken grasses. Cazia ran toward her--Great Way, her arm was gone at the shoulder--and was astonished to see that she was still clinging to life.
 

She bent low over the woman and stared into her eyes for a moment. It was the one who’d stopped the lashing Cazia had just been taking. Her eyes fluttered and fell closed.
 

Cazia snatched a handful of arrows from the quiver at the dead woman’s hip. Five. It wasn’t enough, but the flying serpent had navigated its turn and was weaving through the air toward her. There wasn’t time for her to cast a spell; it was too close.
 

She turned and ran through the grass, following the river downstream. She began the hand motions for her dart spell--arrows were an imperfect substitute, but they would do in a pinch, assuming they held together.
 

No, she had to clear her mind and go through the mental visualizations, too. She started again, quickly, adjusting the spell on the fly to shoot all the arrows at once. The pain in her hand was real but distant. She could touch her middle finger to her thumb, then her little finger.
 

The spell built up within her--Great Way, it felt so powerful.

There was a hiss from behind her. It was too close! She bolted to the left, moving into the trees. Then the spell was almost ready. She spun around, lifting the arrows.
 

The serpent swooped down on her, jaws gaping. Cazia leaped back, stumbling over a tree root and falling backward as the cluster of arrows flew from her hand.
 

She rolled over, the root digging into her ribs and shoulders.
Keep moving
, she told herself, but there was no way she could be fast enough to avoid those gaping jaws.
 

The bite never came. Cazia stood, moving to put a tree trunk between herself and the creature. There was silence. She glanced down at her injured hand and saw that it had begun to bleed again. The flying serpent could have been all over her already, but all Cazia could hear was the rush of the Straim, just two dozen paces away.
 

She peeked around the tree trunk and saw the creature lying still on the ground. The back half was hidden in the tall grass, but she could see the first two pairs of wings sprouting from its back.
 

There were two arrows stuck into it, both through the mouth. One had struck just behind its fangs, passing so far through the end of its snout that Cazia could see the fletching. The other had struck farther back, with the point emerging from the center of its skull, just behind the eyes.
 

Dead. It was as dead as the archer beside the log, as dead as Cazia’s brother. She snatched up a stone and threw it at the creature’s head. It bounced off; the creature did not respond.
 

Cazia moved closer to examine the thing. Its wings were ridiculously small--barely larger than a crow’s--and could never have supported its weight alone. The thing had to stay aloft through some sort of enchantment. She held her hand near the foremost pair of wings--she didn’t have the nerve to touch it yet--and confirmed it. There was magic in it.
 

The beautiful rainbow colors of the serpent’s scales had become an even blue-black, the same as the long, curling feathers that covered them. Its head was more slender and streamlined than the uncursed serpents, and it didn’t have the same red frill. The jaws opened wider, but the fangs seemed smaller.
 

Great Way, the thing was huge.
 

She’d survived because of a lucky shot. She hadn’t been able to aim, hadn’t had time to plan, hadn’t even brought a weapon of her own. She’d known how dangerous Kal-Maddum could be, and she’d sought out that noise anyway. Was she suicidal?
 

Never mind. She’d think about that later, if she had to. There was too much to do first.

Chapter 24

By the time the soldiers caught up to her, Cazia had removed the arrow that had pierced the end of the feathered serpent’s snout and broken it. She had also fetched the dead archer’s bow.
 

Near the woman’s body she found something she hadn’t expected: the serpent’s scaly skin. The brilliantly-colored scales slowly lost their color while she watched, turning the same dull white as a marble block, while the head turned black and brown. She knew all snakes shed their skins, of course—her tutors had shown them to her—but those curled, translucent coils hadn’t been gory with torn meat on the inside. The grunt had emerged out of the serpent’s flesh, not just its skin.
 

What’s more, she’d heard it screaming as it had transformed. Obviously, the process wasn’t quick or pleasant.

Colchua.
Cazia stared for a long time at the knife on the dead woman’s belt, but in the end, she decided not to take it. She laid the bow across her, too.
 

Goherzma led the group of soldiers who found her, finally. She pointed out the corpses, explained that she’d used the archer’s weapon and had gotten lucky. She then claimed to have stabbed it a second time just to be sure.
 

She was led to a copse away from the main group and forced to strip under the watchful eye of six female soldiers. The beating the archer had given her had just begun to get real color around the red welts, but the soldiers found no bite marks.

They gave her permission to dress and return to the main group. By this time, Kinz and Belterzhimi had caught up to them, and she had to repeat her story. Kinz explained that some of the soldiers wanted her killed on general principle, but Belterzhimi wouldn’t allow it.
 

Eventually, a half dozen serpents joined the crowd. Ivy’s cousin tried to communicate the situation to them in hand language, but they did not seem to have any way of responding. Finally, the serpents signaled for the humans to follow them. It took most of the day, but they led them to a quiet little hollow on the eastern side of the road. Sprawled inside was the rotting corpse of a grunt.
 

The fur was dark blue, which meant it had been human once. Whatever else they might have learned from it was lost to the local scavengers. Birds, forest dogs, tree-nesting rats, and who knew what else had torn it apart.
 

“The serpents signal that they destroyed this creature days ago,” Belterzhimi said. “One of them bit through the beast’s skull.”

The wind shifted, bringing the stink of rotting flesh to them all. Cazia turned away. “Shouldn’t they have told you?”
 

“They do not talk to humans unless they must,” the man answered. “It is not in the nature. No matter what anyone says, they do not like us much. I will do my best to explain to them the dangers these creatures pose, once you have explained it to me. As thoroughly as you can. We had long believed that the grunts did not swim.”
 

He said it as though it was an accusation. Cazia let it pass. The truth was, the earlier excitement had left her too exhausted to argue. “The transformation isn’t immediate.”

“So you think this fellow was bitten, then crossed the water before he could change.”

“It’s not their normal behavior. When I saw people who had been cursed in Samsit, the grunts watched over them like nannies.”
 

“There could only be one like this.” Belterzhimi waved a broad hand back toward the hollow. “The serpents hunt by the smell as well as sight, and if there had been several of these creatures, we would be getting a tour of the corpses.”

Unless the serpents had all been killed or transformed, and no human anywhere knew about it. Belterzhimi’s expression was grim; she was sure he had the same thought.
 

“We will need more patrols along the shoreline,” he said. “Unfortunately, the Toal and the Ergoll do not have enough soldiers for such a task. Even if we neglected the fields all summer and autumn to muster our people, we could not do it.”
 

Goherzma bowed. “Should we call up the Peshkoll?”

“And the Winzoll.” That seemed to surprise the servant, but he only nodded. “No one can now deny the danger we face. Soon, we will be invaded from the west and the north. There is no time for delay. If you would excuse me,” he said directly to Cazia, “but I must be rude to you again.” Without waiting for a response, he began to give orders in singsong Ergoll.

Kinz stopped short when she heard them. “What is it?” Cazia asked.

“He is diverting the unit away from Goldgrass Hill,” she answered. “He has made orders that we are to go directly to the Temple of the Mountain Tower.” Cazia shrugged to show that she didn’t understand. “He is taking us see Kelvijinian, Tyr over the Sleeping Earth. Their god.”

By the time they returned to the road, the okshim cart had caught up with them, and Ivy with it. “This is outrageous!” the girl exclaimed as soon as Cazia and Kinz close enough to talk. “I was physically restrained from coming to your side! Do they think I am helpless?”

“They think,” Kinz said, her voice flat, “they will be made to suffer terribly if you are hurt in their care.”

“Hmph.” Ivy lifted a bow out of the cart. “At least they allowed me to borrow the dead woman’s bow. It is a little taller than I would like, but I can make it work. I wish you had left me more arrows, though. Did you...?”

Cazia said, “Lucky shot.”

“Of course.”
 

Cazia lowered her voice. “Your cousin is planning to go to the Temple of the Mountain Tower.”
 

“Ooo!” The girl’s eyes widened with delight. “He must be planning to call up all the clans.”
 

“Does he have the authority to do that?” Kinz asked.
 

“Of course he does. I told you he is Warden of the Western Frontier. If he thinks the need is great enough, he can call for spearmen and archers from all the clans, even ask for more serpents, although that is a chancy thing to request. It is a great responsibility and a great risk.”

Cazia couldn’t resist. “What sort of risk?”
 

“If he calls warriors away from the homes and farms needlessly, he will become a laughingstock and will be stripped of the position. Then he would be challenged to a series of duels, until he failed. It would be terrible. Some would like to see that very much. An Ergoll has held the Western Frontier for over twenty years; my uncle once told me that the other peoples wanted the chance at honor.”

“Especially the Winzoll,” Cazia said, remembering Goherzma’s look of surprise. She felt a little sick when she imagined Belterzhimi sadly facing a line of men with spears, all waiting to duel.
 

“Yes, obviously,” the princess answered. “Even though they are nothing but a pack of lazy priests.”

“Then why is he going to the temple? Does he have to pray for permission or something?”
 

Ivy looked at her crookedly. “Of course not. The Indregai peoples are spread across the entire peninsula. It would take many days for a messenger to reach all of them--if they could even make the trip safely. We do have bears and bandits and wild dogs, you know. Bad enough we will have to wait for the soldiers to muster and march into place. No, he’s going to the temple to entreat Kelvijinian to spread the call.”

Cazia and Kinz looked at each other. “In what way?” Kinz asked.
 

The princess sighed as though they were exasperating her. “Kelvijinian is the god of the sleeping earth. He can make his presence known throughout Indrega. Well, throughout Kal-Maddum.”
 

Cazia blinked at her for a few moments. “Little sister, do you mean he could appear anywhere, see anything, and carry a message to anyone, if you asked him properly?”

“Of course, Cazia!
He is a god.
”

There was a sensible, diplomatic response to that statement, but it was as far beyond Cazia’s skill to think of it as it was for her to swim out into the ocean. “I have to go with him,” she said finally. “I have to know what’s happening in the west. And I have to contact the tower in Tempest Pass.”
 

Lar would not be there, no, but Stoneface might. And Lar’s uncle. She’d managed to bring five Tilkilit stones out of Qorr, but she had no idea what to do with them. There had to be someone who knew what would be best.