Fish Tails (75 page)

The way was already quite well known, there were no surprises. They would not need to cross the Big River. Some distance north and east of the Devil's Ah, the Big River swung widely to the west into a canyon that had opened when the Stonies had been heaved up a millennium before. South of the Devil's Ah was the last bridge over the Big River, which then made a deep cut to the southwest, a long, shallow C as it curved south and then east to run back out onto the desert, separating the southeastern corner of the Stonies from the rest of the range and carrying the river with it. It was along the southern edge of this separated region that Coyote had tracked the stinkers, and in the northern part of this same area was the cave in which Sun-­wings had secreted Willum and Needly.

They met no monsters. It was almost as though the area had been swept and cleared for the two wagons and the ­people riding alongside. Bear sometimes walked, sometimes lay curled in one of the wagons; Coyote likewise. Coyote had not yet recovered from his journey into the rendering works. He was victim to unpleasant thoughts or memories that woke him from sleep, kicking and biting. For some reason he could not define or explain, he had brought his piece of metal with him, the one he had picked up in the lava tube. He had tucked it into a corner of the wagon, where it wouldn't get lost. He had never mentioned it to Abasio, and he couldn't explain that either, though there was some kind of memory tickling at him, a memory concerning something similar he had seen, somewhere . . .

The babies had spent most of the previous day in a small pool at the bottom of a canyon, quite near Wide Mountain Clan House. Several years previously, a hot spring had been diverted to mix with the cold water in the pool to make a play place for the children who lived in the area, and the babies had enjoyed the warm pool for hours, delightedly receiving various sets of baby minders and thoroughly tiring themselves. Today they were willing to sleep or lie on any convenient lap and watch the desert go by. No one approached the travelers. No dangers presented themselves. It was ordinary. Peaceful. Normal. It made Abasio very nervous.

The tip of a rocky ridge of the Stonies thrust up along their way on the right, growing higher as they went. To the left, ahead of them, a low hummock clad in sand and cactus appeared. When they reached it, it was backed by two taller ones. Others appeared as they drove on, growing higher the farther west they went, so that they trundled along a wide, winding way between two ranges of hills, the low, sandy dunelike ones to the south, the higher, rocky ones at the foot of the mountains to the north. Keeping his eyes on the northern horizon, Coyote told Abasio when he recognized the outline he had seen before, where the stinkers had turned north.

“Up that way,” he said. “Right up at the foot of the mountain. That's where they went.”

Abasio drew the attention of the troop to the place and the landmarks, but they didn't stop. A team had already been chosen to explore the area on the way back, and Precious Wind was part of it. Half an hour later, Kim and one of the Artemisian outriders came back at a gallop. “Just up ahead,” the Artemisian rider cried. “The canyon's just a mile or so ahead.”

Wagons were stopped. Faces were washed. Hair was combed and braided on men and women both. Various adornments were donned. The babies were undressed, washed, and reclothed. They went on.

The target canyon looked like any of a thousand others, except that it had an east-­facing stone wall on which a large, square surface had been smoothed and polished to receive the carefully graven words
HOUSE OF ORACLES
.

IF YOU HAVE LEGITIMATE BUSINESS HERE, RING THE BELL. IF YOU ARE MERELY CURIOUS, GO ON BY. YOU WILL FIND A RIVER SETTLEMENT HALF A DAY'S TRAVEL WEST.

Under this, in smaller letters, the sign read:

THERE WILL BE SEVERE PENALTIES FOR THOSE RINGING THE BELL WITHOUT LEGITIMATE BUSINESS.

The wall was surmounted by a carved arch with a bell hanging in it. The bell rope hung within easy reach beside the message. Arakny rang the bell, a quick
dong-­dong,
only one bell, yet it sent dissonant tones up the canyon, the echoes reinforcing one another. The wagons turned in, went just inside the canyon, and stopped within a grove of very large trees surrounding a well-­used campground. Everyone, horses and ­people, gathered in the shade to wait. Coyote stuck his nose in the corner of the wagon and pulled out the metal bit he had found in the stinker tunnels.

“Coming,” whispered Arakny. The word went through the gathering. The horses stood still. Three ­people were coming down the canyon toward them, gray robes as specified. Gray hair, braided, as specified. Arakny went forward to meet them. In a few moments she returned. “Needly. They'd like to see you.” She held out her hand.

Needly said firmly, “I'll go alone, Arakny. I need to ask about Grandma.”

Arakny's surprise was plain, but she nodded nonetheless. “Of course, child. As you will.”

Needly went up the path to the place where the trio stood. She had gone only half the distance when her voice came back to the waiting group, a high, exultant scream: “Grandma!” The next moment she was in the arms of the middle figure.

“Well,” said Arakny to those closest around her. “I guess that answers that question.”

“When you come here,” Xulai whispered, “do you usually camp out here, or do they invite you in?”

“As I've mentioned, from time to time Mother sends messages or gifts of food, and the men who deliver the items camp out here overnight before making the return trip. There's a spring of good water behind that stone pillar to your left, and the trees make a pleasant shade. When I came, they invited me in. The place is inside the mountain, built into a series of caves. It's very comfortable, but one really never knows what they'll do until they do it.”

Needly came running back. “Abasio, Xulai, Arakny, and Precious Wind are invited in, and the others are invited to camp here. Oh, and Willum. Will one of the men help Abasio carry Willum?”

One of the bowmen stepped forward to carry the back end of the stretcher they had constructed for the occasion. Willum was not heavy, but his sprawled position made it difficult for any one person to carry him. The others followed them. The path was sandy. Abasio and Xulai, each carrying one of the babies, were last in line behind Arakny. Xulai happened to glance behind her at the Artemisians, who were busy setting up camp. The path behind her had no footprints on it whatsoever. She looked down at Arakny's feet. As Arakny raised her left foot, the sand filled in below it, settling itself into utter smoothness before Xulai's foot stepped down. She gulped and looked resolutely forward.

The two who had accompanied Grandma stood to one side, watching them pass. Their faces wore identical small, pleasant smiles, welcoming to precisely the same degree. One name on the shoulder was
LUSS FARLIGHT
. The other was
DR
ON WINDLEAS.
Xulai, with Gailai held against her shoulder, nodded to each, memorizing “Dron” and “Luss,” receiving duplicate nods in return. She caught Needly's eye, seeing there a reflection of her own confusion. Needly kept to herself the words that had leapt to her tongue when she had turned from Grandma's arms to meet the two remaining Oracles. She had thought in that moment that they were not separate ­people but identical parts of one thing. One big thing. No. One larger thing, but without any . . . bigness to it. The idea was confusing and unpleasant. She squashed it, folded it, put it away until another time.

Grandma reached out a hand to Xulai, drew her close to say, “Thank you for taking care of my child.”

“I'm afraid we didn't do a very good job,” Xulai said, pleased that the woman before her looked precisely as Needly had described her. “We almost lost her.”

“But you didn't. That's the important thing. May I carry the baby?” She reached out for Gailai, who stared into her face for a moment, then reached out and grabbed her nose. There was a sudden scurry by their feet. Coyote. He was holding something in his mouth, offering it.

Grandma stepped back, leaned over: “You want to give me this?”

He nodded. She put her hand down and he dropped the metal piece into it, a little wet. She wiped it on her skirt and then looked at it closely. Her mouth opened, made a pursed, almost whistle shape. “Where?” she asked.

“Long story,” he said.

“Will you be here, with them?” She gestured at the Artemisians, busy making camp.

“Yes. With Bear.”

“I'll come find you and Bear later tonight,” Grandma said, pocketing Coyote's gift. “Stay close where I can find you.” This time she was successful in taking Gailai in one arm and Abasio's arm with her other.

The opening was an arch, rough stone, without a door. As they came into the shade of it, Xulai saw that it was only a kind of portal. The actual door stood ajar ahead of them, three man heights tall, two man heights wide, one man height thick, one solid piece of stone, sharp-­cornered, smooth as planed wood. It bore nothing resembling hinges or a knob or a knocker. When Xulai went past it, the last in line, she felt it pivot on some unseen bearing and close soundlessly behind them. When she looked back, it was invisible. Not even a hairline showed its outline.

C
OYOTE AND
B
EAR STAYED TOGETHER,
near but not too near the men setting up camp and preparing their food. One corner of the wagon had been occupied by a very large stew kettle containing corn, onions, meat, Tom's toes, and a plethora of herbs. These things had been soaking all day and the kettle had been placed on a stout grid over the fire as soon as it was well alight. Someone among the Artemisian men spoke to the cook, and she ladled two large bowls full of the stew they had prepared and broke a large hunk of bread into each of them. The man set the bowls near the place where Coyote and Bear had established their own territory, at the edge of an almost impenetrable tangle. They waited for the stew to cool, then ate it with a good deal of pleasure. It wasn't fresh rabbit, but it was very good. Bear often ate vegetables, Coyote but rarely, as part of the stomach contents of something just killed or as a way to clear his own stomach if something had not agreed with him. Both found the dish filling to the stomach and pleasant to the nose, however, and when they had eaten and licked the bowls clean, they retreated into the tangle.

Some hours later, a woman came down the path from the Oracles' place. She said softly, “Coyote?”

“Over here,” he yodeled, as softly. He and Bear pushed themselves to the edge of the tangle, sticking their heads out. The woman came close, looked around her, found a place to sit, a convenient log next to a tree. She said, “The log is new. You put that there?”

“I did,” said Bear. Human ­people are so . . . what's the word, up n' down?”

“Vertical?”

“Yah. So vertical. It's hard for you to get down on our level to talk.”

“Only the old ones.” She laughed. “I guess that includes grandmas. Tell me about the metal piece, Coyote. Did you know what it was?”

“No. I only knew it itched me. In a bad way. I've seen something like it somewhere, but I can't remember.”

“Could it be with traders? At the pass?”

It came back to him in a flash. “That's where!”

“Indeed. Well, tell me the story.”

Which he did, well rehearsed, having told it several times to others. He included all the details and what various ­people had thought about it subsequently. “I found the little metal piece on my way in, it stuck in my foot. I picked it up on my way out. I knew Abasio wouldn't know anything about it. I didn't think the ­people we're staying with would know. I thought you might.”

“I've seen them on things old Digger traded. I think it's a manufacturer's tag, identifying a product, Coyote. Something that was no doubt dug out of a buried city. Maybe the one under Hench Valley. It was originally probably on its way to a place near Fantis. ­People have told me there was a huge manufacturing plant down on the plain near Fantis. I've heard that place was and still is owned by the Edgers, and they may have made or used the stuff that had that tag on it.” She turned it in her hands. “You said a man couldn't get through the tunnel you were in when you found this?”

“I said he couldn't get
in or out
the way I got in and out. It was only the entrance that was tight. But if he'd come in some other way, he could have dropped it in the tunnel I was in. Or something else could have. It's a whatsit in there, a tangle . . .”

“A maze.”

“That's it. There were tunnels leading off all directions from the one where I found it.”

“I'm surprised you didn't get lost.”

“I was following the air. It was moving that way, up and out.”

“And the men you saw were Edgers?”

“That's what everyone thinks. The Artemisians think so. Arakny thinks so. Abasio and Xulai think so. Who else could they be but Edgers?”

“You have an opinion, Bear?”

“Nope. Know nothin' about this thing. What I do know is Old Digger, up in Tuckwhip, he had miles of tunnel dug into that city. I know because lotsa us critters make themselves winter places in Digger's holes. If this came from there, chances are he dug it and sold it to a wagoner. Prob'ly the wagoner was the one they call the Gold King. He's the one buys the strange stuff, mostly. Maybe the wagoner sold it to an Edger, maybe one a' those washin' stuff off a stinker.”

“I know Digger.” Grandma made a face. “I'd like to ask him a few questions . . .”

“Sun-­wings killed him,” said Coyote. “Rotten old man.”

“Sun-­wings?”

“The big mare Griffin that's got ­people all in a . . . maze. The one that told'm to fix their little ones like they did humans so they could live when everything's water.”