Fireblood (Whispers from Mirrowen) (23 page)

There was a collective sigh of hope from the companions. They had lasted the night.

Paedrin stood beneath the open hole and inhaled deeply, floating effortlessly up to the opening and emerging from it. The signs of death were all about. Preachán bodies littered the debris field. But there was still some rope and he used it to pull the others out, using the floating stone for leverage and letting his bad arm rest.

One by one they emerged, dusty and pallid. Hettie began to crisscross the area, searching the ground for corpses and for signs.

“It was big,” she muttered, pausing at the distinguishing tracks it left. Paedrin noticed the claw marks and quickly averted his eyes.

“What are you looking for?” he asked her. But as he asked the question, he already knew. They all knew the answer.

That they would not find Kiranrao’s body amidst the corpses.

“There is much to be said about the Cruithne as a race. They are great experimenters. They study causes and effects. They are tall, in general, and robust, having great physical strength. Having spent thousands of years living among the volcanoes of Alkire, they are adept at trapping fumes and vapors, at learning which smells harbor danger and which can be curative. They have mastered the arts of the forge, creating new metals in their vast underground caves fed by living fires of blackrock. They excavate gemstones from the rock and shape them intricately. It is claimed that Cruithne have soot-colored skin because they dwell in a place full of smoke and ash. The pigment of one’s skin has little to do with chimney smoke. It is said that their race originated in the great deserts beyond the mountains. That seems a more logical explanation of their pigmentation. Some even accuse the Cruithne of slowness due to their great size, but that is a common misperception. Cruithne are large and quick, giving them ample force against smaller men like the Preachán. They learned long ago that to survive the Plague, it would be wise to settle amidst the highest mountains, thus making it difficult for traders to reach them. Some in Havenrook believe that it was their meddling in the earth’s depths that caused the Plague. A fool’s rumor.”

– Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos

T
he blade from Drosta’s lair was a living thing. Annon had heard its whispers and felt the growing intensity of its compulsion to kill. It took every bit of self-control he mustered not to draw it again from its sheath. It would drive him mad. It would drive anyone mad eventually, but a Druidecht would be the most resilient. As they hiked down from the Alkire, he finally resorted to untying the talisman from around his neck. Only then did the whispers cease.

At darkfall he found himself staring into the flames of the fire, his body aching and sore from the strenuous hike through the downward maze of iron-hard rocks and evergreen. Hettie was slumped next to him, a makeshift bandage around her head. Boulders surrounded them, offering shelter from the wind. Paedrin’s arm was bound tightly against his body, and he paced amidst the camp, staring at each of them in turn and searching the falling darkness for signs of Kiranrao or other pursuers. His staff was broken, but he held a fragment of it like a cudgel. Erasmus shook his head, his eyes bleary from lack of sleep.

Annon looked up, his mind a jumble of thoughts and ideas. “We are in danger in these mountains. One of us will need to be on watch all night long. The Fear Liath will start hunting us now that it is dark.”

“Wonderful,” Paedrin said, swishing the staff fragment violently. “We should keep walking and get free of the mountains tonight.”

“Too dark and too far,” Erasmus said. “Even you know that, sheep-brains. It took us several days just to climb in. Climbing out won’t be any easier. The chances of our success are still abysmally low, unless it rains in the next day. And storms usually do not occur in these mountains this time of year.”

“Do you think Kiranrao was lying?” Hettie said softly.

“About which part?” Paedrin said with a snort. “I don’t hold much confidence in anything he told us.”

“He has ways of knowing things,” Hettie replied, bristling. “He has access…” She stopped, suddenly quiet.

“You don’t understand,” Paedrin said. “No doubt he is crafty. He would make a spider seem friendly. We cannot trust what he said because his intent was to misinform us and influence us into behaving irrationally.”

“And you can judge his intent?” Erasmus said mockingly.

Paedrin chuckled to himself. “Are any of you familiar with the principles of the
Uddhava
?”

Annon stared at him blankly. “Is it a Vaettir word?”

“A Vaettir word but a Bhikhu philosophy.”

“Which means no one could understand it unless he was both,” Erasmus said.

“Which I am,” Paedrin answered. He inhaled slowly, and they watched him begin to float in the air. He put his foot on the end of his broken staff and balanced himself with his free arm. He held the pose, drawing their eyes as he circled his hand fluidly
in the air. Then he stepped forward and landed heavily on the ground, startling them.

“That was to be sure you were listening,” he said seriously.

Hettie snorted and Annon smiled.

Paedrin walked as he spoke, gesticulating with his free arm for emphasis. “The Uddhava is one word that describes a myriad of explanations. A chain of things. Let me try and give you the color and shade of it. The principal element of the Uddhava is the act of observing. Observing is a form of power, a very subtle power. It changes behavior in others and oneself. You behave differently in front of a crowd than you do when you are alone. The observations of others cause you to change what you would ordinarily do. I will be crude to illustrate.”

“As long as you are not disgusting as well,” Hettie said archly.

He ignored her. “You have some dust in your nose. All right, perhaps it is more than dust. All alone, you would flick it away and be done with it. But in polite company, you do so surreptitiously. The fear of being observed has influenced your behavior. It is the same thing with criminals. If they believe someone is watching them, they do not commit their crime. In fact, it is typically best to distract the attention of the person you intend to rob so that they will not observe what is being stolen from them. Simple enough?”

Annon nodded. “So you are suggesting that Kiranrao was trying to distract us with his story about my uncle?”

Paedrin laughed. “Do not even try to apply Uddhava yet. I have not finished explaining it. Observation is the key element of it. It is more than mere looking. It is more than noticing. When we observe the world around us, we begin to notice that life is a current and we are caught up in the middle of it, but our actions change the course for others. Things act and react differently, depending on the forces that are used. The second element of
Uddhava is trying to intuitively understand why a person has done what they have done. What motivated them? It is not just the action itself, but the motive of that action.”

Erasmus cackled. “And people are so transparent, are they? They love to deceive everyone, including themselves. You cannot judge my motives any more than you can determine the real reasons for your own.”

Paedrin grinned and whipped the stick around, pointing it at Erasmus’s nose. “If you all keep interrupting me, we will never make it to the end.”

“Keep going,” Annon said. “I am interested.”

“This is starting to sound like a sermon,” Hettie murmured.

“I will be quick, I promise. No moralizing. Once the intent is divined, the next two things come in rapid order. According to the Uddhava, you make a decision to test your conclusion for accuracy. Then you act on that decision. Your action then prompts the other person to do something. And it all begins again. You observe what they have done, see if it matches your intuition, make another decision about what to do, and then act on it.”

He paused in front of the fire. The light reflected off his dark skin. “Every day, each one of us is dancing awkwardly to a rhythm of the Uddhava. Those who master it make the world dance to their tune.” He scratched his scalp. “Let me be specific. You might think I was a fool to rush into Drosta’s pit without studying it first for danger.” He paused. “This is where you insult me, Hettie. Please…don’t disappoint me.”

His comment startled her and she said nothing.

“See! I just used it against you. I know your propensity for cutting remarks, and rather than letting you muster one, I forestalled you with my own. This is an example of the Uddhava. My actions were not without thought. I went into the cave first because, as you have already noticed, I can fly.”

“It is more like floating,” Erasmus muttered gravely.

“A choice of words,” Paedrin said impatiently, batting away the comment with his staff. “I did not require a rope to leave there. I triggered the trap, which was my intent, to allow us all to learn what was down there and thus be better prepared for it. What you foolishly did,” he added, whipping the stick around at Hettie, “was come down on a fraying rope after me. I did not anticipate you putting your life in jeopardy like that, but it helped draw the creature’s attention two ways. It was clever to realize that shrouding the lights rendered it harmless. I did not figure that out. It required the collective action and reactions of all of us together to solve the riddle. Which, in my humble opinion, is the reason why Tyrus sent us there at the start. He has been using the principles of Uddhava against us from the beginning.”

He was silent a moment and then slapped the staff against his palm. “Before we return to Kenatos, we must ponder his motives, make our decision, and then act. Kiranrao did the same thing. He fed us certain scraps of knowledge, though true or false they may be, in order to discern our reaction to them and thus learn more about our intentions.”

He stopped speaking, triumphantly, and raised his eyebrow.

Hettie looked confused. “I’m not sure I even understood you, Bhikhu.”

“Not surprising. You have always been a little slow.”

“Hold the insults for now,” she answered. “I want to be clear first. So the Uddhava is a strategy for manipulating others?”

Paedrin shook his head. “In an indirect way, maybe, but we all have our choices. It is the rhythm of life and governs our relationships with each other, whether verbal or physical. It applies to fighting. Let me demonstrate.” He stepped around the fire and brought the staff in an exaggerated pose and slowly brought it down, as if to crack Annon’s skull. The blow was
ponderously slow, and Annon leaned to the side so that it passed harmlessly by.

“I did it slowly,” Paedrin explained, “that you might understand. Let’s try it again.”

He stepped back and brought the staff down again, mimicking his earlier pose and attack. As Annon began to move aside, Paedrin suddenly whirled around, bringing the staff around horizontally, tapping Annon’s cheek instead of crushing it.

“There. You suspected I was going to bash you on the head, so you reacted to it the way anyone might. But that was not my intent, to attack you the same way twice. My second move caught you off guard and would have incapacitated you. I did not
know
what you were going to do. I merely suspected. Now, imagine this playing out at full speed where you only have the blink of an eye to understand what I am doing, make a decision, and then act upon it. If you are right, you stop the attack. If you are wrong, you are unconscious.”