Faces of Deception (29 page)

Atreus shook his head. “If anyone is to blame for that,” he told her, “it is Kumara.”

Seema frowned and asked, “How can you say that?”

“No slaver wants old men like Kumara,” said Atreus. “Had Kumara gone after the yellow man’s beard instead of you, Tarch would not have bothered to kidnap him.”

Atreus did not add that Kumara might also have returned in time to save Jalil’s life, but he saw by Seema’s furrowed brow that this had also occurred to her.

After a moment, she shook her head.

“This game makes no sense. We can say “what if this’ and ‘what if that’ all day long, and it changes nothing.”

“Aren’t you the one who said no mortal can understand the Wheel of Life? Perhaps Tarch has been fated to come here since the beginning of time, or maybe it was Kumara who cheated fate by refusing to help save Jalil. I don’t know.” Atreus squeezed Seema’s hands more tightly and said, “The only thing I do know is that no matter what Kumara says, you aren’t to blame. You did what you did out of love, and that is never wrong.”

Seema considered this, then said, “Thank you for saying these things.” She closed her eyes and embraced him. “Even if they are not the truth.”

“They are.” Atreus kissed her forehead without really realizing he had, adding, “You can trust me.”

“I already do.”

Seema looked up, and Atreus was instantly lost in her brown eyes. He pressed his lips lightly to hers, then pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he tried to disengage himself. “I don’t mean to take advantage …”

“Do not apologize.” Seema pressed a finger to his lips, refusing to let go, and said, “You are not taking advantage. I trust you, and you are a comfort to me.”

Seema kissed him again, this time harder, and he could feel her need drawing him closer. She pressed her body against his. He wrapped her in his arms, felt the softness of her breasts against his hard chest, the heat of her belly warming his, the smooth curve of her hip beneath his fingers. She melted to the floor beneath him, drawing him down on top of her, holding him so close that it seemed she was trying to make him part of herself. He wanted to become part of her, to feel their bodies join as he had felt their spirits unite earlier, when she told him not to apologize—and then Atreus realized he was deceiving himself. Worse, he was deceiving Seema. He did not deserve the trust she had granted so freely, not while the secret of the fountain remained between them. Now that he had seen the sparkling waters in Kumara’s hand, he knew Sune’s quest was a literal one. He was to find the Fountain of Infinite Grace and return with a vial of its waters. He also knew that this was forbidden, that when he did as his goddess bade and filled his vial, he would betray Seema’s trust in the cruelest manner.

Atreus’s embraces grew weak and his kisses guilty. He began to feel the ungainliness of his body and recall his hideous looks. His desire for Seema became a sick, shameful thing that even his body would not abide. He drew his face away from hers, then could not bear the beauty of her brown eyes and looked away.

Seema continued to hold him. “Atreus?” she whispered. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“No. No, I’m fine.” He could barely choke out the answer.

“Then why did you stop? Is love-making not a Devotion to your goddess?”

“Yes, it is,” Atreus answered as he rolled off Seema, but stayed beside her and continued to hold her in his arm. Even that felt like a lie. He could not tell her about the fountain any more than she could take him to it. “I’m feeling uneasy.”

Seema propped herself on an elbow. “You are wondering about Jalil’s father?”

Atreus nodded, breathing a silent sigh of relief, and even that made him feel guilty.

“There is no need to think of him,” Seema said. “He is only a friend now, and I seldom see him.”

“He doesn’t live nearby?” Atreus asked.

“No, he is a healer down in the valley. No more needs to be said about him.”

Seema pushed herself up and began to fold Jalil’s cloak.

“Now I am a little bit sad again,” she said. “I hope you will forgive me.”

“There is no need,” Atreus said, picking up the boy’s hat. “I fear it’s you who must forgive me.”

Atreus waited alone on the balcony until well after dark, when Rishi and Yago returned exhausted and famished. They had spent most of the day scouring the area around the rockslide and found nothing, not even a footprint they could identify as Tarch’s. The Mar had been ready to declare the hunt over and report to Atreus that he was mistaken, but Yago, knowing first hand the comforts of a good deep grotto, had insisted upon investigating the Caves of Blue.

The task had proven more difficult than they could imagine. The mouths of more than a thousand different caverns dotted the face of the Turquoise Cliff, some located nearly a mile above ground. After a cursory examination of some of the ground level caverns, many of which they happened across only after catching a whiff of musty air from behind a bush, they had given up and returned to Seema’s for the night.

At Atreus’s insistence, they abandoned the search for the Fountain of Infinite Grace in favor of investigating the Caves of Blue. No more girls turned up missing, and Atreus was at first inclined to attribute the basin’s good fortune to the vigilance of his friends. When they found no signs of Tarch after seven days, even Atreus began to think he had been wrong about the slave master following them into Langdarma. Yago and Rishi returned to looking for the fountain, though they often made a point of passing through Timin’s village to inquire about signs of the devil.

It was after one such stop that Rishi returned with news of the fountain. Grateful for his father’s life, Timin had finally responded to the Mar’s discreet questioning. According to rumor, the twinkling water came from an ancient temple somewhere in the main valley. The news had, at first, disheartened Atreus, but Rishi had quickly hit on the idea of searching for the temple from above. They would simply climb the canyon walls and scan the valley floor, looking for any likely buildings or streams that sparkled more than they should.

By the third day, Yago and Rishi had spotted a likely looking building not far down the valley. Atreus decided to go along, telling Seema that he was going to start hiking with his friends to strengthen his leg. To his dismay, she insisted on coming, greatly adding to the already heavy pall of guilt weighing him down. They started at dawn, intending to pass through Timin’s village and start the descent into the main valley before mid-morning.

An hour into the journey, they stopped to drink from one of Langdarma’s pristine streams. As Atreus kneeled on the mossy bank, the water grew cloudy and pink. He cried out and jerked his hands back, wondering if the valley somehow knew of his plan and was passing judgment on his deception.

Atreus’s companions gathered along the bank behind him, staring and gasping as the water grew murkier and darker. Yago kneeled and brought a palmful to his mouth.

“Vaprak’s veins!” he cursed. “Blood!”

“Blood?” Seema gasped.

Atreus stood and looked up through the thick undergrowth, searching for any sign of a predatory beast The rhododendrons remained as still as stones. The water continued to grow darker and redder. To lose that much blood, an animal would have to be the size of a dragon, and even in this dense forest a predator animal large enough to down a dragon could hardly be missed.

“Seema, what’s at the top of this stream?” Atreus asked.

She glanced up at the ice-blue sky, somehow estimating their position from its mottled surface. “A herder’s shed.”

“Please do not tell us this herder has a daughter,” said Rishi.

Seema’s face grew fearful. “I am afraid he does,” she said. “Two of them.”

Yago studied his companions, then said, “Can’t be what you’re thinking. Too much blood.”

“I don’t think it’s blood,” said Atreus, “at least not the way you think.”

He pointed down the creek to where it was joined by a small rivulet from a side gully. The red stain was spreading up the side gulch.

“Think we found Tarch?” Yago asked.

Atreus’s only response was to start up the stream bank.

They crept through the rhododendrons, moving as quietly and rapidly as four people could through such thick undergrowth. The water continued to grow redder and thicker until the stream took on the appearance of a vein filled with dark, clotty blood. A nauseating, copper-like stench began to hang in the air, and alarming little noises began to rise from Seema’s throat. When they finally reached the terraces beneath the herder’s shed, it grew apparent that there was no need for stealth. The grassy pastures were strewn with slaughtered yaks, and an old woman was up near the shed, wailing and cradling her husband’s smashed head.

“Seema, you’d better go first,” said Atreus, recalling how Timin’s delirious father had initially reacted to him and Yago. “We’ll follow after you cover her eyes.”

Seema nodded, then clambered over the terraces. She kneeled beside the old woman and spoke to her softly, covering her head with a shawl. By the time Atreus and his companions arrived, Seema had the story.

“She said a sharp-eared devil came for her daughters and killed her husband when he tried to save them. The beast left five minutes ago.” Seema’s face was hard and angry, almost ugly. She pointed into the shed. There are axes and scythes inside.”

Rishi’s jaw fell and he asked, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Seema glanced at the destruction surrounding her and said, “Do what you must I want him stopped.”

Atreus raised his brow. “We’ll try,” he said, “but it wouldn’t hurt to call the Sannyasi.”

Seema nodded, and Rishi rushed off to fetch the weapons. Yago glanced at Atreus. Though the ogre had managed to force a smile onto his jaw, Atreus could read the doubt in his friend’s eyes. Shield-breaker or not, Yago was afraid. As far as he was concerned, Tarch could not be stopped.

Atreus clamped the ogre on his huge forearm and said, “We’ll manage.”

“Don’t we always?” Yago answered. “But if I get—”

“I know … don’t let the crows get your eyes,” said Atreus.

Yago’s behest was a standard Shield-breaker request They believed crows to be spies of Skiggaret, the fear-loving god of their bugbear enemies. Though the reminder betrayed Yago’s fear at facing Tarch again, Atreus said nothing to reassure his friend. Among ogres, acknowledging another’s fear was the worst kind of insult.

“You have nothing to worry about, Yago,” said Seema. “There are no crows in Langdarma.”

The ogre forced a smile and said, “So this is paradise.”

Rishi returned with an armload of tools. He had a rope and the scythe for Yago, an iron kettle lid and a double-bladed tree axe for Atreus, and a pair of skinning knives and a net for himself. As he accepted the kettle lid, Atreus frowned in confusion.

“For the flames,” Rishi explained, smiling. “I am always thinking of the good sir’s safety, am I not?”

“What you’re thinking is that I’ll go in first,” Atreus replied, “and you’re right.”

He started off at a trot and they had no trouble following Tarch’s trail. The devil was tearing a broad swath through the rhododendrons, angling up the slope toward the cliffs at the mouth of the basin. The slave master appeared to be carrying one daughter under each arm, as the stalkers never saw any tracks but his. Even so, he was moving so rapidly they never seemed to catch a glimpse of him.

After a quarter hour of running, they climbed out of the forest, emerging onto one of the talus fields that tumbled down from the basin walls. Tarch was nowhere in sight. It was impossible to follow his trail across the field of jumbled boulders, but there was no question about where he was going. A mile ahead loomed the Turquoise Cliff, its face pocked by the dark mouths of the Caves of Blue.

“Got to catch him before he gets into them caves again,” huffed Yago.

The ogre bounded up the talus field at an ungainly sprint, quickly drawing away from his companions. Atreus followed as best he could. His weak leg began to ache from the exertion, but he clenched his teeth and hobbled up the mountain, inspired by his friend’s example. Yago soon vanished behind a jumbled crest of stone. Tarch’s silhouette appeared farther up the hill, running along a flat boulder with a beautiful Langdarma girl tucked under each arm.

For the next few minutes, the chase continued with Yago and Tarch vanishing and reappearing at odd intervals, the ogre steadily closing the distance as the devil drew nearer to the Caves of Blue. Rishi hung back for a while, then finally cursed Langdarma for rubbing off on him and danced up the hill ahead of Atreus. Atreus tried to match the Mar’s pace, but found it impossible and resigned himself to watching the first part of the battle from below.

Yago was still twenty paces behind when Tarch reached the Turquoise Cliff and, tucking both girls under one arm, began to scurry up the rocky face as easily as a spider. Yago grabbed a melon-sized rock and hurled it on the run.

The stone caught Tarch square between the shoulder blades. The devil grunted loudly, let his captives tumble free, and pushed off the cliff. He spun around in mid-air and landed facing his attacker. The battle was on, with Atreus still a hundred paces down the slope.

The fury of Yago’s assault belied his dread of facing Tarch again. The ogre stepped in swinging, bringing the scythe around in a two-handed sweep that caught the devil in his midsection and launched him across the slope. Tarch landed a half dozen paces away, clattered down between the boulders, and disappeared. For one long moment, Atreus dared to hope Yago had ended the battle with a single bloody stroke.

As the ogre stomped over to finish what he had started, a goat-sized boulder came flying up at him. He raised his scythe to block. The rock smashed through the wooden handle and caught him full in the chest, bowling him over backward. He came down hard, a sharp crack echoing off the cliff as his head struck the flat of a stone.

Tarch clambered into view and staggered toward his groaning foe, a flap of scaly hide dangling from the gruesome wound in his side. Rishi was a dozen paces behind the devil, creeping across the boulder pile as silently as a cloud. Atreus wanted to shout at him to hurry but did not dare. The Mar’s only advantage was surprise.