Chapter Ten

[cityofthehand]

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Chapter Ten



“I will not hurt you, do not struggle!”

Graymere’s wings flapped so hard they distorted his voice as he dove for her. The air behind her roared when he reached for her and missed. Spurred by the close escape, she threw herself at the tunnel and ducked into a sloppy roll. Things popped and strained her body as it toppled, but when she came to rest it was on muddy, dank ground in the dark. She rose to standing immediately and went running, bumping against the walls until she regained balance. Outside, the Asna’isi shouted but did not enter to pursue.

Then the light behind her flickered. She looked over her shoulder. Naran ran into the tunnel behind her.

“They won’t hurt you. Maira, don’t do this!” he cried, voice bounding off the old stone walls along with the quiet, quick slapping of his footsteps. She still had a fair lead on him, and knew the layout of the place intimately. Her confidence allowed her to run much faster than he did. She only needed enough sight not to trip. Being blinded by going from bright sun to near dark didn’t disadvantage her as much.

Maira stayed close to the wall and passed the first entrance to a connecting tunnel. She ran further down to the where the tunnel branched off and connected to another. She turned the corner there and stopped. She held her breath and pressed her back to the wall, listening.

Naran stilled called, but his voice grew more distant each moment. Good. He’d taken the bait and gone down the first turn. She half-walked, half-jogged when she felt it safe to do so and forced herself to slow her breathing. Gathering her thoughts and her bearings, she weighed her options. She’d taken a tunnel that went away from the Tayeland and Fourth Round. Not that going back was an option. She pictured the map in her mind, drawing mental lines to the places this tunnel could take her. She paused to listen and bent double, resting only a moment.

Yena, she thought and stood straight. This definitely counted as an emergency. This tunnel made a quick path to the Pahali Tract it’s western gates. Yes, good. People who weren’t Pahali could not enter without special passes, which meant guards and shelter on the other side. Certainly from the Asna’isi.

The Pahali and Asna’isi maintained an ancient animosity. They lived in uneasy peace now, but it was a recent peace and fragile at that.

The last great war, fought two centuries before her birth, had been theirs. They battled for supremacy over the world and nearly ripped it apart between them. Their bloody, horrifying battles passed into legend. The devastation visited itself on all people, all the races. Even an unschooled human like Maira knew the tales. So much human history had been lost in the war, so they told the ancient tales of the other races. The orphanhouse priestesses scared, fascinated, and titillated them with tales of great generals and armies in the air when the race of fire and the race of wind clashed in the heavens and fought to the death there.

It awed her then. It awed her now. Fire and storm met in battle. The Asna’isi with their cold logic, intelligence, and great technology pitted against the stronger, wealthier Pahali and their ruthless determination. The stories played in her mind as if she’d witnesses it. Flames lit up the night sky to shine as brightly as day, warriors perished in whirlwinds the size of city blocks and their twisted, broken bodies rained to earth like a bloody hail.

Hostilities like that did not go away with signed treaties and councils. The Pahali and Asna’isi lived longer than any race, far longer than humans. For most, the war had taken place in their life times. Though they’d taken seats in the Palace of Supreme Unity, the hatred remained.

So Maira could rely on one truth. The Pahali would never allow armed, aggressive Asna’isi past the gates. Beyond there, they could not touch her. If they tried, plenty of angry soldiers would be more than happy to give voice to old grievances and take up fist and blade and wing and fire again.

If she made it that far, things got simpler. She could explain things to Yena. She’d have to. Yena and Kei-zi had to know everything. She needed protection from someone stronger than herself. Yena and the Pahali were it. They could shelter her until she passed on the damn device. After that, she could surrender if need be.

The thought of the device in Lord Shadow’s hands didn’t bear thinking about. Decaran had been specific. This device could make a lord into a god, and Maira could not see anyone benefiting from Shadow becoming a god. If he did, the Pahali would surely retaliate, take up the old war again.

Then it wouldn’t just be the Pahali or the Asna’isi. All the other races had suffered during that last conflict. The Palm became mostly wasteland. Some parts were still not fully reclaimed. Hundreds of thousands of human and Rok died in the fires and storms. The Tsaqa found themselves at the brink of civil war, fighting for neutrality while they were threatened and courted by both sides. The Dhatan hid and burrowed into the ground, creating an entire underground city and network of tunnels to stay alive and out of the war. They alone had shown any pity for humans and Rok.

The tunnels Maira escaped in now had been the tunnels the Dhatan used to save who they could, escort them to safety in the Deep Cities. She sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Dhatan and their Seed Goddesses. These tunnels saved humans then and were saving her now.

Maira ran faster, fueled on raw panic at the prospect of carrying the fate of so many. She hoped the professor had been wiser about who to trust than she was, but she did not let herself hope long.

When the jolt of dread eased, she stopped running to check again that she was alone. Naran could have done a spell to make himself invisible or silent. Hearing and seeing nothing, she walked quickly and didn’t run to preserve her energy for the final dash to the gate.

Distant, slanted rays of golden sun marked the tunnel’s end. She jogged to it, squinting and blinking when she emerged into the early evening light. She turned left, then right to get her bearings. To the north, one of the main gates stood like a beacon of hope across an enormously wide court square paved with white stones and filled with statues and fountains. Around her, Pahali and Pahali-Rok flew and walked. Those in sky made pop-flap noises when they beat their bat-like wings. Some sailed between her and the sun and the skin of their wings became nearly translucent in the light.

She kept her medium jog at an even, business like pace with her eyes focused forward to avoid attention. Safer if no one cared until she got close enough to the gate to show her card, because the square was still in the Palm. If she were picked up or arrested here, she remained fair game.

Maira thought she’d done a good job of staying unnoticed. Then she heard a sudden uproar of screeches and startled, frantic flapping. She spun around. Naran emerged from the tunnel and raised a hand to the sky. A beam of green light flare upward to signal the Asna’isi that circled high, displacing the Pahali who’d been there.

As soon as they noticed the signal, they circled down in a vertigo-inducing spiral, wings folded tight to their bodies to aid their controlled fall, make it that much faster.

Damn.

Maira remained still and watched. Naran stayed by the tunnel, looking in the wrong direction to spot her. She caught herself and turned around, searching the area for a decent hiding spot. She spotted a pair of tall statues bridged by a wide stone arch that served as a landing spot, mainly for young, adolescent Pahali who laughed and traded playful jabs with each other.

She crouched down and peered around the leg of the statue. Naran paced slowly, hands on hips, shouting at the sky. She clenched her teeth and licked her lips. There she tasted a salty mix of sweat, blood, and gritty dirt. The Asna’isi closed in on him. None had yet looked her way as they conferred.

Maybe they’d assume she would head west into the sun, towards the river. Not a bad guess. If not for Yena’s invitation in to the Tract, that would have been her plan. The riverboats could take you to a sea port, from there you could get out of the Domain entirely, perhaps to Rherna Island.

Maira barely dared to breathe, fearing any motion or sound would get their attention. Naran probably used magic to track her through the tunnels, seeing as how she’d lost him early on. She frowned tightly. Gods above and below, but she understood now why the First Taye hated sorcerers so much.

The Asna’isi fluttered above, still talking. Then Naran nodded and pulled something out of his coat. Maira kissed her teeth reflexively. How many damn talismans could one man have? Still, she waited. Maybe the spell wouldn’t work. Maybe it was a trick to draw her out. He raised the talisman to shoulder height, shouted something and it glowed yellow.

Then the air next to Maira’s head lit up with a sizzling pop. She squealed and fell backwards onto the ground.

“There!” Graymere cried, his shout booming through the space between them. Maira picked herself up, reached into her other pocket, took out the card and ran. Hard.

Even with her head start, the Asna’isi had an open court space designed specifically to aid flying.

“Turn back!” Graymere warned, getting closer with each word. “The Pahali will not let you enter! Turn back!”

She raised the card above her head and waved it furiously, trying to remember New Pahali and the right words to scream. The words came slowly, one at a time. She hoped the orange card and the messenger’s shirt, along with the ambassador’s name would suffice. They had to.

“Open gate! Open gate!” she screamed, mentally wincing at her own own weird accent. Being out of breath made remembering the right tones that much harder. “Message of Ambassador Enaqi Jenda Walksbetween! Open gate!”

She waved Yena’s card for all she was worth, and shouted again.

“Stop her!” Graymere ordered. A now familiar terrifying puff of air hit the back of her neck.

“Open gate! Message of Ambassador Walksbetween! Open gate!”

The Pahali guards looked at each other, confused. Three of them pushed off into the air, rising above the gate. Maira held the card steady so they could see it. “Open gate!”

A tall, big breasted Pahali guard in full armor barked an order and the gleaming brass gates slowly opened. Maira pushed herself for speed. Behind her, wings flapped harder, faster. Even an inch shy of the gate and it would all be over.

Graymere’s low, frustrated grunt sounded her ear. Fingertips brushed her jacket. She shrugged out of it as she ran, not missing a single step. With a final cry, she surged through the last few feet and threw herself through the open gate. She fell so hard the landing stunned her. She laid, panting and watch Graymere closing in. When she realized he might make it through the same gap she had, she got up fast and stumbled into another Pahali guard who caught her arm. Around her, others raised their spears and took flight.

He stopped mid-air with his face inches from the tip of the spear and backwinged violently. The three behind him did the same. They went higher and higher and the Pahali rose to meet them, shouting and pointing blades. The Asna’isi drew their own weapons in response, all flapping and yelling until Graymere commanded them down.

The gates slammed closed with slightly rusted metallic whine. Graymere stood as close as he could on the other side, staring through the bars, face blank though he breathed fast, winded from the chase. He collected himself quickly.

“I am Graymere, Lord Shadow’s First Agent,” he said to the Pahali in their own language. “The woman is ours, you have no authority over a human and we want no quarrel with the Pahali or High Chief Kicks-a-cloud. Give her back to us and there will be no violence. I am only doing as ordered.”

The guard Maira hid behind turned to her and asked, “So, human woman?”

Maira held out the card given to her. “Message of Ambassador Enaqi Jenda Walkbetween, of daughter, Enaqi Yena Lookinghard. Only give to her. They try stop me, try kill me.” She hoped her broken Pahali got the point across, because with blood and sweat dripping to her eyes and her body burning from exertion, it was all she could manage.

A guard snatched the card out of her hand and examined it. On the back was something written Maira hadn’t even realized was there. The Pahali guard scrutinized it, then nodded. “She’s telling the truth. Look. This is the ambassador’s own seal, there.”

“You think it’s genuine?” asked another Pahali as their wings folded back.

“You think a human could forge this?” the first one said and handed it over. The second also nodded.

“Maira, what are you doing?” Naran called, coming up to the gate. He grabbed the bars fiercely. A guard growled at him and pointed a spear. He let go and stepped back. “I swear to every god that knows me as their own, I swear on all my ancestors, I swear on every drop of blood in my being, that we are not going to hurt you and we’re telling the truth. Please!”

She ignored him with a fierce scowl and kept her eyes on Graymere. Him, she could not read. He might walk away or charge the gate any moment for all she knew. Typical Asna’isi coldness.

“Her business is legitimate. We will not hand her over and we will not permit you to enter. Leave now or I will call reinforcements. I do not think that Lord Shadow would be pleased to hear about his Prime starting another Sky War over a human woman.”

“I will not desist. I have my orders.”

“And I mine,” the Pahali responded.

Graymere stepped back. Maira let out a sigh of ecstatic relief. Instantly, strength left her and she wobbled, bending double, shaking. Then he stopped backing away and turned his head to give orders to the three Asna’isi behind him. He spoke in Domainish, strangely, not Asna. He must have wanted to her to hear it. “Brightsame, return to Lord Shadow, tell him everything that has happened. Icefall, find our ambassador and tell her that we need to arrange for an exchange from the Pahali tract. The two of you, tell every one to watch the borders with this Tract. When she emerges, she is ours. We will take her back to Lord Shadow safely.”

Maira sucked in a hard breath. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. They could still grab her on Palm territory, even with Pahali protection. Graymere had only to wait, because she would have to emerge eventually.

“Do you understand that?” Graymere asked her, looking straight into her eyes. He folded his arms and looked like a statue that could not be moved. “We mean you no harm, even though you injured one of my people. You must go to Lord Shadow. Fighting this only hurts you in the end. We will not hurt you, but we will take you.”

Maira raised her chin. “Then it’s good I can take this message to the ambassador first.”

Surprise flickered across his cool, sharp face for a split second. “There truly is a message?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Not your business, Mr. Graymere, that’s what.”

“Prime,” he corrected her. She swore he smiled then, just for a second. “Prime Graymere. I would be remiss if I did not ask. I must take you to my lord, and everything will be to that end until I am successful. Save harming you, of course. That I will never do.”

Maira regarded with confusion as she tried to catch her breath. The warmer, more intimate tone made no sense. Unless it simply signaled his amusement, the way the prefects showed amused at seeing her beaten. Did the Asna’isi lack so much for compassion as a race, or just these that she encountered? Then again, the rich and powerful tended to be lacking in compassion in every kind of people.

“I’ve got a lot of bruises from your not-harming, Prime Graymere,” she said and finally spared Naran a glance. He looked dirty, sweaty, and angry. “And you seem to be in a big hurry to not harm me.”

Graymere actually grinned. “Not at all. I will wait patiently until we speak again, when I take you to my lord."

The first Pahali got tired of the conversation at that point. “Only when she emerges, Prime. Until then, she is ours and we will not surrender her.” The first Pahali turned to the second. “Treads-the-grass, escort her to the ambassador’s compound, stay close. If anyone tries to stop her or take her, arrest them or kill them. Whatever is necessary.”

“Yes, captain,” Treads-the-grass said and looked down at Maira from a superior height, frowning. “Come.”

“Thank you,” she said, voice trembling as it hit her how close she had come to disaster.

“We are not protecting you, we are protecting ourselves. If we are ordered to give you over, we will. And we will not hesitate. Understand that.”

"I understand. Thank you, anyway. You could have just tossed me out or not opened the gate at all.”

Treads-the-grass’s lips curved a little. “Yes, we could have.”