The Way of the Black Beast (27 page)

"I thought you liked anarchy."

"In the Freelands, yes. There are miles of nothingness separating small pockets of people. One government, one set of laws to rule all would never work in a place like that. But in a city where people clash together non-stop — well, just listen to that lunacy."

As if in response, a series of green bursts popped along the streets followed by two heavy booms like massive cannons.

"Did you want something?" Malja asked. She pulled out Viper and worked the blade with a good stone she had found on the ground. She would have preferred her whetstone, but that now collected silt at the bottom of the Yad River.

Cole clasped her hands in her lap, straightened her back, and curled her legs to the side as if posing for a sculptor. After all the hiking and trudging and fighting, Malja had forgotten just how beautiful Cole could be. "When we arrive at the city," Cole said, "we'll head west for several blocks until we reach the Kryssta temple. From there we go north until we find the Skyway Bridge. There's where we'll find Jarik and Callib."

Malja continued to run Viper across the stone, creating a rhythmic scratching like a machine needing oil. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I could tell you that you need to know in case something happens to me, or I could even say that it's all about stopping Jarik and Callib. But the real reason — I don't know exactly. Aren't I just a fool? I suppose I want you to keep me in the group, even though you don't need me for information."

"Being part of a group isn't very anarchic."

"Pure anarchy cannot be maintained for long."

Malja gestured to the city. "They're doing a pretty good job at it."

"Only when their Masters are gone." Cole shifted closer, lowering her body in an apologetic fashion. "I know you've got many valid reasons not to want me along, but when I watched you and Tumus argue ... well, you both fought passionately, because you both love this boy. The only thing I've ever felt that much passion for is my work."

"And Jarik and Callib have that now."

"Yes. I suppose I want it back, but it's more than that. I want to help you and be a part of something good. I know my time with the Bluesmen became a horrible screw-up. I know that. But my heart was in the right place. I just wanted to open up the possibilities for everyone, so magicians like Jarik and Callib couldn't rule over everybody."

"You want to keep the anarchy going strong."

"Please, don't fight me like Tumus. Sweet little Malja, let me do something good."

Malja drew her head back. "I don't know why you think I could force you to go."

Cole chuckled. "Thank you."

They listened to the chirping night creatures and distant, random explosions. Malja sharpened Viper. Cole relaxed.

Many people had come in and out of Malja's life and she never minded much. Drifting through the world brought that about. As long as she thought she had a good sense of the person, she felt secure. The closer she came to Jarik and Callib, however, the more confusing the people around her had become.

Adding to her thoughts, Malja heard Tumus approach. "Can't sleep?"

Tumus huffed as she sat next to Cole. "That man's snoring is worse than listening to Barris Mont speak."

The others laughed loud enough to interrupt Skvalan's snoring, which only caused more laughter. The brief mirth didn't fool Malja, though. Tumus did not sit with them for companionship. As their laughter subsided, Malja pressed for an answer.

Tumus said, "I'm concerned about tomorrow."

"We all are," Cole said.

"I'm worried we're being led into a trap."

Cole's smile dropped. "You have the gall to accuse me —"

"Not you. Them." Tumus indicated the city. "Jarik and Callib had outrun us. They should have been to the city already and done whatever they wanted. Instead, they use exhaustive magic to send an abomination upon us. Why?"

Malja set her sharpening stone aside. "You think they wanted us to catch up?"

"It's a possibility."

"Yet you know I'm going in there anyway."

"For Tommy."

Malja inspected her blade. "Yes. For Tommy."

"Well," Tumus said as she stood, "I simply wanted to make sure we all understood. Good night."

After she left, Malja turned to Cole. "Still want to come along?"

Cole's face darkened as she peered into the distance. Malja lifted Viper and stood in a ready stance. She sniffed the air and listened for snapping twigs or crushed leaves. Cole looked at the ground like a defeated child. "The fighting stopped."

"Jarik and Callib?"

"They're in the City of Ashes now. They're home."

The batteries gave out a few hours into the morning drive. Malja's anticipation fueled her legs, and she suspected the same could be said of the others. Nobody complained. They moved like ants scaling a tree to get to some leaves — steady and strong with a goal firmly in place.

When the sun reached its highest point, they took a break, each member of the team settling under a tree or an overhang for shade. All except Cole. She stood at the path's edge, gazing across the wide vista.

Malja approached and offered a swig of water from a dented canteen. Cole's cheeks were damp — more than just sweat. "You okay?"

Dabbing at her eyes, Cole said, "It's silly, but I just started thinking about Faw-Faw. I was remembering how back then the two of us lived so free of any concerns. Our days were spent following our whims and our nights were, well, passionate. Now it's all just this."

"Sounds like it was a dream, and dreams don't last forever."

"I know. See, but then I think about chubby Suzu or Rev with his big voice and charming laugh and ... I'm sorry they're all gone."

Malja threw a rock into the open air and watched it plummet. "Let's get hiking. It's going to be hard. That'll keep your mind off the dead."

As they trudged through several hours, Malja found her own dead to be kept at bay by the hike. She focused on each breath, each step, each rock. As night approached, they came upon the city streets. No gates, no arch, no bridge — nothing to signify the start of the city but a few scattered buildings.

These first structures stood tall with little apparent damage beyond broken windows and the wear of ages. Some were brick. Others smooth metal. A rare few were made of the once-white material Malja saw in Barris Mont's memory. Now, the white barely showed. A fine dust coated every surface — a mixture of dirty ash and mountain snow.

Malja saw no signs of people. Not even a furtive peek from a window corner. Nothing. She listened for a slipped foot or dropped object or a hushed voice. Nothing. The place was a cemetery.

Cole led them down one street, and Malja tried to memorize the turn. Lampposts lined this new street along with plenty of evidence attesting to the horrid nature of the city's inhabitants. From each lamppost hung a body. On each body, the skin covering the head had been removed, the head had been hollowed out, and a candle had been mounted in the skull. The dim light provided unsettling shadows across the ash-covered street. Tumus murmured a prayer.

A few blocks further in, they came upon a humble building surrounded by waist-high grass. The buildings around this one structure had been razed to the ground. An altar poked out from the grass. A statue of Moonlo lay in several pieces.

"The Kryssta Temple," Cole said. They turned north. Cole pointed into the dark and said, "Straight that way, several miles, we'll come upon the Skyway Bridge."

On the next block, Malja noticed footprints in the dust. Just a few at first. But eventually enough that the others noticed, too.

"Are we being watched?" Tumus asked.

"Probably," Malja said.

They came upon a massive, circular fountain with the far end dipping back, tilting the whole thing toward the buildings. The street bent around the structure which Malja thought looked more like a lake than a fountain. The stagnant water reeked. A statue in the middle rose several stories — or, it once did. Now it was a pair of legs surrounded by piles of rubble.

As they walked on, bullet holes marked walls and doors. Burnt-out grounders and smashed storefronts lined the streets. A flyer teetered part way in a lone wall, as if unsure whether or not to crash to the ground. Craters pocked the sidewalks. Smoldering fires scented all the evidence of the previous night's fighting.

The deeper in they traveled, the worse the city looked. Graffiti marred the cracked and ruined walls — violent and pornographic images painted in mud, charcoal, and blood. Like old advertisements, the words CALLIB IS KING and JARIK RULES weaved around the pictures. Bodies with fresh wounds decorated walkways. Worse — body parts littered the streets.

The last of dusk's sunlight disappeared. Malja ordered they set camp for the night with two of them guarding in shifts. They picked the sturdiest-looking building and settled in on the third floor. Malja denied Cole's request for a campfire. "It'll attract too much attention." So, they huddled up and attempted to sleep in the cold mountain night.

Only Skvalan could sleep. The others shivered and paced and kept watch. They listened to the skirmishes ignite and fade out, but none of the fighting reached the scale they had witnessed during their approach to the city. Apparently Cole had been right — Jarik and Callib's presence helped tame things.

During one of the lulls, Tumus came up to Malja with a stern face. "I think you truly believe Tommy is alive, and that being so, I must tell you something you don't want to hear."

The first thought to pierce Malja's mind —
Tommy's dead and Tumus has known all along.
She came close to striking Tumus. Even repositioned her feet to provide a strong leap. But she recalled that Tumus also believed Tommy was alive.

Oblivious to Malja's reaction, Tumus went on. "I know you hate me and blame me for all this, but that blame is false. I did not seek to disobey your commands. Tommy did." Tumus stepped back from the wild glower in Malja's eyes. "Tommy asked me to take him back to Dead Lake, to Barris Mont. He said if I refused, he'd do it on his own."

"It's amazing he said all that," Malja said. She leaped to her feet and gripped Tumus by the throat. "Especially considering the boy hasn't spoken a word since I've met him."

Tumus did not squirm. She spoke calmly, though straining for air, and she bore her gaze into Malja with religious conviction. "He did not speak with words. He drew pictures on the walls."

Malja thought of the huge circle, the little circles, the arrows and dots she had discovered. She let go of Tumus and turned away. "He told you he wanted to go back? Maybe you misunderstood."

"No. We spent hours going over his pictures until I knew quite clearly his desires. He can feel the changes going on inside him. He knows he has potential, and permit me to say that he has astounding potential, but he's being kept back and he wants to learn how to control his powers. Barris Mont could help him, and Tommy wanted that."

"You think you know him better than me?"

"In some ways, yes. I'm not afraid of what he is, and I don't shun him for it, either."

"I do not—"

"It doesn't matter what you say to me. I'm telling you this, because if we find him,
when
we find him, you should be prepared that he's not the boy you're trying to make him."

Before Malja could say more, Tumus left her alone. Malja leaned against a windowsill and watched the empty street below. The half-moon cast its pale light on the debris, creating grotesque shadows and illusions of depth. Good light for hiding. She poured her energy into searching those shadows for enemies — better than thinking about what Tumus had said.

An hour later, as her head lolled to the side, somebody tripped and cursed while scurrying down the street. The noise startled Malja awake. She spotted the person in seconds. Not a person, really. A griffle. And not just any griffle. This one was small — a runt — and had several white tufts on its head.

Malja checked if anyone else had awoken. Both Tumus and Cole had finally fallen asleep. Skvalan, however, stared at her with sharp eyes.

She waved him over and whispered, "Keep watch. I have to check something out."

Skvalan crossed his arms and looked around. Malja couldn't tell if he was questioning her or foggy from just waking up. Finally, he nodded and slipped in next to the window. "Don't take long time," he said.

Malja hurried outside and down the street. Following the griffle was easy. The little creature made such a racket, a blind man could catch him.

They traveled several blocks west and turned south for a few blocks more. The night air chilled Malja's nose, but her assault suit kept her body warm. She moved fast and kept her eyes searching for attacks. As much as the griffle's noise made him easy to follow, it also could attract unwanted attention.

Around a towering rubble pile, Malja saw the dancing orange light of a fire. She pulled out Viper and readied for what she might find — a horde of griffles, perhaps, or even some bizarre religious rite. She wasn't sure what she hoped to gain, but as Gregor would say, "Coincidence is just an excuse not to delve into the Why of something." That griffle could not be in this city by accident, not at the same time she sought Jarik and Callib, and she wanted to know why it was here.