Irsud (19 page)

Mind reeling under the impact of the kaleidoscopic images, she swayed precariously on her perch until the shock snapped her back to herself. She grabbed at her handhold then at the gun sliding from her lap. Turning the weapon over and over in her fingers, she examined the thing, slid her hand around the butt, stretched her finger along the side of it until she touched a fingernail-sized swing plate. She flicked it open and stared at a dull black sensor. She moved her finger toward it.

“No!” Swardheld's voice roared in her head nearly startling her into dropping the gun.

“Helvete, woman, you want to bring the whole place down on your head?” As Aleytys resettled herself, he relaxed and chuckled. “Do you know what you'd do, touching that sensor?”

Aleytys stared down at the heavy metal thing crushing the delicate material of her gown. “What does it do?”

“Well, roughly.…” She felt his eyes looking down thoughtfully at the weapon, measuring it against a wealth of experience totally beyond her comprehension. “Looks to me like it'd just about punch a hole in that rock you were pointing it at big enough to shove a horse in.”

She touched the weapon and shuddered. “Concentrated death. I wonder.…”

“That's how some men measure progress.” Harskari's cool voice, amber-tinged, finished the thought for her. “In the more efficient killing of ever larger numbers of their fellow men.”

Aleytys felt a cold sickness around her stomach, a heavy weight of depression on her spirit. She slid her hands underneath the energy gun and held it in front of her. “What do I do with the damn thing?”

Harskari blinked her amber eyes. “Why did you bring it out of that room?”

“I don't know. I don't know why any of that happened last night.”

“Well.” She thought a moment then nodded. “You have to hide it. You brought it out for some reason, don't forget that; probably you'll find some use for it later. But if the kipu finds it in your possession.…”

“No.” Once again Aleytys shivered.

The purple eyes opened and Shadith spoke with a calm finality that forbade any argument. “Nowhere in the mahazh, too many sensors. Up there.”

“Where?”

“The cliff. You see that narrow ledge a little higher than the top of the mahazh?”

Aleytys scanned the rugged face of the cliff where it rose above the skirting of foliage at its base. “Yes,” she said after a while. “Is that the one you mean?” She fixed her eyes on the short horizontal break in the cliff face.

“You got it. You two agree?” Shadith's purple eyes turned from one side to the other, questioning.

“Yes,” Harskari said thoughtfully. “If Aleytys can lift that far.”

“I can try.”

“Hm. Yes.” Swardheld's burring voice muttered in reluctant agreement. “It's an unhandy place, though.”

“That's the point, old grumbler.” A twinkle in the purple eyes matched a delicate ripple of laughter. “Who'd look there?”

Aleytys moved the cover back over the trigger-sensor and frowned, stroking fingers slowly over the smooth metal. As she concentrated, the weapon came alive under her hands. First she felt it grow warm, then it wiggled, startling her again, then bumped lightly against her hand. When it bumped harder she spread out her hands like wings and the weapon leapt up between them, sweeping toward the cliff in a rapidly accelerating curve that panicked her.

With a gasp she jerked the hurtling gun to a stop a bare handspan from a spattering crash against the stone. Halting, clattering, bounding, it edged in jerky stages up the cliff, scraping noisily against the irregular surface. Gradually control came easier to her until finally she tucked the weapon neatly into the crevice. With a sigh, she relaxed, leaning back against the limb, crossing her ankles and letting her hair blow around her face.

“Well, that's done,” she murmured.

Purple eyes glowed and light laughter glinted silver in her head. “There once was a red-headed lass whose multiple talents had class. She flipped in the air six eggs and a chair, two horses, five hogs, three cream-colored dogs, four hens, two cats and a hare.”

Aleytys giggled. She kicked a leg up and as the chiffon slid back, uncovering her thigh, sobered suddenly, her high spirits plummeting into deep depression. “Feeling and healing, lifting and shifting. How do I get rid of my incubus?” She rubbed her hand over her thigh.

A cold chill vibrated through her body. She stared helplessly paralyzed at a swirl … a swarm of dots that gradually coalesced into the glaring face of a nayid female, strong, imperious … frowning … no … it breathed like a mist through her body. “No!”

She blinked, the sensation faded, she was breathing on her own again. Cold with a fear that began as a seed in her belly, an ice seed that spread through her body, crystal on crystal spreading, breeding like the crystallization of super-saturated solution, her blood chilled, her breath came light and shallow off the top of her lungs. She pressed her hands over her eyes. “Harskari, help me.”

The amber eyes opened slowly this time; Aleytys got the impression that the sorceress was puzzled. “Most peculiar,” she murmured. “I had no idea. Shadith?”

“No, dammit. Of course not. Hey, grumpy.”

“Shut up. Yammering females.” Swardheld's gruff voice was moderated to a hoarse whisper. “Freyka, it's up to you. We.…” The black eyes were grim. “We'll help how we can but not one of us could expel one of the others, so how could we throw out this invader in your body? Especially since she has a physical foothold.”

Aleytys got shakily to her feet and ran down the arching limb to the bank. She hesitated a minute, hand on the rough bark of the trunk, breathing in the pungent green aroma, then leaped down and ran across the cold dewy grass into the room.

Burash lay deep in sleep. She bent over him and touched his face, feeling in him a security and a strength that she clung to gratefully, a center where she had meaning in all the flux of her tottering world. Reluctantly she forced herself to leave him, let him lie in peace. She could sense the deep exhaustion in him, the drained ache from the strain her healing had put on his body. Settling in the chair at the foot of the bed, she sighed and looked around.

The floor was blotched with scuffed scummy blood stains, ugly red-brown dull splotches on the complex pattern of leaves, vines, flowers etched into the blue-green tiles on the floor. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

A murmur of voices came faintly through the tapestry masking the archway. A six-fingered hand grasped the edge of the tapestry and pulled it aside, letting Aamunkoitta push the serving cart into the room accompanied by a subdued rattle of dishes. Behind her Aleytys saw bits and pieces of her newly augmented guard, then the tapestry dropped again.

Aamunkoitta blinked as she saw Aleytys waiting for her. Her eyes darted toward the glass wall then back and her face looked puzzled. The sun marked her usual time but Aleytys should have been still in bed. “Hyvaa huomenta, Kunniakas,” she murmured. “If you'll wait a moment.” She trotted hastily across the room to the storecloset and brought out the light folding table Aleytys used for her meals.

As she unfolded the legs and locked them in position, she noticed the floor for the first time. Her mouth fell open, eyes wide. The table fell with a wooden clatter as she clutched at the coarse material between her breasts. “Kunniakas?” She licked her lips and glanced again over the stained floor. “All those guards.… and that?” She freed a cramped hand and pointed to the floor, jerking the hand about in sharp interrupted lines that told without words the extent of her dismay. “What happened?”

“Raid,” Aleytys said tersely. “Over the wall.”

“But the guards. In the hall?”

“We were drugged. Burash. Me. To make it easier, I suppose.”

“Asshrud.” Aamunkoitta pushed the toe of her sandal against the rim of one of the blood splotches. “The kipu know that?”

“What do you think?”

The hiiri nodded. She picked up the table and straightened out the legs. “Has to be Asshrud. Gapp has the venom in her but not the brains. Asshrud.”

As Aamunkoitta set the breakfast dishes on the table, Aleytys leaned back in the chair and yawned. “Well, that should cancel out one of my problems.”

Aamunkoitta set the heavy stoneware jug on the table and took off the lid, letting the hot spicy aroma of the mastu coil out into the brisk morning air. She poured it out into a thick-walled cup without a handle and looked up as she set the jug down again, her face troubled. “You don't understand Kunniakas.”

“I know that.” Aleytys picked up the cup and cradled it in her hand, enjoying the feel of the warmth against her palm. “What am I missing this time?”

“The kipu won't do anything to Asshrud.”

“Why?” Aleytys stared at her, astounded. “It's the perfect chance, catching her with her fingers sticky.” She lifted the cup and sniffed at the steam. “Mmmmm. I'm hungry.”

Aamunkoitta shook her head. “You don't see.” She shrugged. “You don't know. First of all there's no real proof. Those nightcrawlers still alive won't know anything important. More important, Aashrud had strong ties with three of the cityqueens, one of the strongest factions against the kipu.”

“What's that got to do with Asshrud's immunity?”

“If the kipu touches Asshrud, that's the one thing that would turn all the cityqueens against her. All the queens. Even she can't handle that. Together they'd mop her up like a wet spot on the floor. Speaking of the floor, I'd better get a mop and clean up this mess.” She shrugged. “I wouldn't count too much on that if I were Asshrud, though. The kipu'll find a way to take her out sooner or later. She's a canny bitch. You watch out too, Kunniakas.” She started to turn away then she swung back. “How bad was last night?”

Aleytys set the cup down with a too-loud clunk, her hands trembling. “He nearly died … and I … I walked just this side of dying, a hairline this side. A lot of that blood is mine.”

“Take care, Kunniakas, Asshrud's a viper with poison sacs the size of melons.” The hiiri squatted close beside Aleytys. “Strikes without warning too.” She gazed thoughtfully into Aleytys' face.

“Warning. That reminds me. Look out at the garden, will you?”

Aamunkoitta raised her eyebrows, but jumped to her feet and pattered across the floor, her straw sandals scraping faintly against the stone.

“Do you see them?”

“Them? Ah. The guards on the wall. I see them.”

“Get word to our friend, will you? The guards are there day and night from now on.”

“Yes.” Aamunkoitta backed silently away from the glass wall and went into the storeroom again, coming out with a mop and an empty bucket.

Aleytys lifted the cup again and sipped at the cooled liquid, took a mouthful of the mastu, swallowed, took another.…

Pain. It jagged through her body eclipsing everything else. Pain. Burning. Animal claws tearing her apart. Burning. Her brain burned in a fire that ate at her nerves. She screamed. Moaned. Threw herself out of the chair, knocking over the table, the pot of mastu spreading on the tiles like a malignant cancer. Pain. It invaded her world, nothing else there, white hot claws tearing her brain and body apart atom by atom.

Her body shuddered, spewed out the corrosive substance that was killing her. Her sphincters loosed until she writhed helplessly in the mess of her body fluids. She retched again and again, nothing left in her stomach to come, another pain, another convulsion another tearing ache, muscles wrenched and knotted by the dry heaves. Dimly she heard Aamunkoitta cry out, felt cool hands touch her face.…

Harskari woke in her head and the amber glow of her presence came so strongly that it dominated even the tearing agony of the poison pain. “Heal yourself, Aleytys.”

The voice rang like a deeptoned bell. Again and again, the sound penetrating, demanding, compelling. Compelling. Driven out of her pain-controlled frenzy, Aleytys plunged into the power river and let the black water flow through and through her body, burning, purging, washing out the corroding poison … again she saw the three shadows holding her, comforting her, supporting her and grew warm and content in their care.…

She opened her eyes. Burash and Aamunkoitta bent anxiously over her. With difficulty she forced herself to her feet and stood trembling, leaning on Burash, nauseated now by the stench of her expelled fluids, the vomit and feces and urine and poison her body had cast off in its extremity. “Bath …” she whispered.

Jerking the tapestry impatiently aside the kipu strode in and halted, staring at the tableau that greeted her goggling eyes. Behind her Sukall waved the guard back, then entered herself, letting the tapestry fall behind her.

“What happened here?” the kipu demanded.

Aleytys turned to face her. “Poison. In the mastu.”

“Who brought it?”

Aamunkoitta began trembling. “I … I did,” she said hesitantly. She had no choice. Any of the guards could tell the kipu that.

“Take the hiiri. Destroy it.” The kipu's voice was cool and devoid of any emotion. Sukall stepped around her and reached for the hiiri's thin shoulder.

Aleytys pushed Burash away and stood tottering on her own feet, anger cold and hard inside her. “No.” She pushed at Sukall's stringy powerful arm. “Don't touch her.”

Sukall hesitated, looking over her shoulder at the kipu.

“She brought poison.” The rich voice was cold and inflexible.

“Get behind me, Kitten.” Aleytys confronted the two nayid females, eyes burning now, hands cold, stomach knotted, trembling with weakness of body that sapped her spirit. “No!” she repeated.

Sukall put hands on her shoulders to move her out of the way, then screamed as black fear, terror, weakness, pain, anxiety flooded through her.

With cold sick precision Aleytys plucked the strings of the guard's weaknesses, exaggerating them enormously until she crouched in a whimpering heap at the kipu's feet.