Lightnings Daughter (28 page)

"I don't like this, Lord Athlone," Secen said as he knelt to study the tracks left by Branth's horse. "If he keeps on this way, he'll ride straight into---"

"I know what lies to the north," Athlone interrupted sharply. "Moy Tura."

Just the name of the infamous ruined city sent a shudder down the chieftain's back. He looked north over the open plains, as if he could see across the leagues of grass to the ancient city of the sorcerers. He had heard many tales of the fabulous metropolis, and those tales were enough to keep the heartiest of clan warriors away from the place.

"How far is Moy Tura?" Sayyed asked uneasily.

"Seven leagues, perhaps. Enough distance that Branth might veer off and miss the ruins,” Secen replied.

"I hope so,” said Keth. "I don't want to find out if the tales about that place are true."

"Maybe we'll be lucky, Lord,” Secen said as he remounted. "Maybe one of those legends wil eat Branth for an evening meal."

The others laughed, and they set off again on the exile's trail, everyone hoping that the man would go anywhere but Moy Tura.

'* * * * *

Far to the north of the Khulinin hunting party, a lone rider kicked his weary horse into a trot and rode up the slope of a high tableland. "It has to be here somewhere," the gorthling hissed. He had been searching for days for the sorcerers' city and so far, had not even seen a road that might lead to it.

He cursed his vague memory. The gorthling knew Moy Tura was the center of arcane learning. All of the clan magic-wielders went there to study their craft. If any man knew who and where all the magic-wielders were, he would be in Moy Tura. The only problem was the gorthling did not know exactly where the city was located, and Branth's memories strangely did not include anything about Moy Tura.

The gorthling curled a lip. He was growing tired of this fruitless search over empty land. He wanted to find Moy Tura and its sorcerers and destroy everyone who could possibly ruin his plans. He still wanted to locate those clans who had exiled his host's body---there would be perverse pleasure in wreaking revenge on them---and there was also the mysterious magic-wielder who had kindled such hatred in Branth's memory. It would be interesting to track that one down, too. But first, he wanted to find Moy Tura.

The gorthling urged his horse on, faster and faster, until it finally reached a decent vantage point.

He reined the animal to a stop and sat looking at the view before him. There was not much to see. The huge, treeless plateau stretched away for leagues without features or landmarks to break its level expanse. The gorthling rode on. His instincts told him the city was dose by, but he could see nothing that looked like a well populated metropolis. There was only grass and sky.

A little while later the gorthling rose in his stirrups and caught sight of something rising out of the plain far ahead. He rode toward it. As he drew closer, he saw more details and features. There was a high, crumbling wal , and behind it he could see buildings, towers, and parapets, but they were al in ruins. What was this place?

It was not-until he rode to the enormous entrance and saw the two huge stone lions laying in the rubble that he realized where he was. They had guarded the city since its birth, or so the stories said.

Viciously he reined his horse to a stop. What had happened? The gorthling could see now that Moy Tura had been destroyed. The entrance gates had been shattered by a tremendous explosion and most of the buildings had been razed. The streets were ful of rubble, wind-blown debris, and weeds. As far as he could see the only life here was a rat, some magpies, and a swarm of flies. Even the land around the city was empty and barren. Where were all of the magic-wielders?

The gorthling cursed and urged his reluctant horse into the ruins. There was still time to search the place before dark. Perhaps he could find some clue to the whereabouts of the sorcerers. There had to be a few left to pass on the inherited talent or his host body could never have summoned him. The gorthling rode forward and disappeared into the dead city.

*****

"Are you sure he went in there?" Gabria asked as she stared at the broken walls casting shadows in the early morning light.

Secen nodded, his face pale under its tan.

The travelers were silent as they gazed about them in nervous curiosity. They had arrived at the plateau late the night before, but they had not tried to enter the city for fear of losing Branth's trail in the dark. Now it was the dawn of a warm, breathless day, and Branth's tracks led directly into the old ruin.

Just in front of the riders, the entrance lay open, its gates in pieces. A stone lion crouched nearby, cracked in two, resting on the rubble.

Piers studied the lion curiously. "I thought there used to be two," he muttered. "The stories always mentioned a pair."

Athlone took a deep breath. "Let's go," he called. Eurus, his ears pricked and his nostrils flared, walked warily into the city. The others came behind, keeping dose together as they passed the fal en lion and the piles of rubble at the gateway. The ruins closed in around them.

The party silently fol owed the tracks of Branth's horse through weed-choked streets, around crumbling houses and wind-torn towers, past empty shops and decaying walls. Grass grew in every available chink, and piles of broken stone lay everywhere. Here and there a few fallen statues or shattered fountains could be seen in the ruins, attesting to the grandeur of the once-proud city.

Gabria was amazed by the remnants of beauty that still survived in the desolation. Moy Tura had not been a large city, even by the standards of two hundred years ago. It had been a close community of people dedicated to the art of sorcery. They had built what they thought was the greatest, most magnificent city in the known world.

That was the tragedy, Gabria thought to herself. All of their beauty, wisdom, and power had not protected their homes from the jealousy, greed, and anger of the outside world. The sorcerers who had lived here had been too isolated from their their kin. They had put themselves on a pedestal and had ignored the warning signs when the pedestal started to crack.

According to legend, the city was betrayed by a sorcerer, a bitter man who had told the clans of the secret ways into the city---ways that skirted Moy Tura's deadly magical defenses. The man was, in turn, betrayed by a chieftain. He, along with all the other sorcerers, were massacred. It took the gathered clans only one day to destroy the city. For two hundred years it had lain, slowly sinking into dust, hidden behind a shroud of fear and terrifying legends.

Gabria's thoughts were stil on the past when Sayyed rode close beside her and drew her out of her reverie.

"I hope all the tales about this place aren't true," he said. His horse snorted at a rat that scurried past.

Gabria shivered and watched Treader chase the rat into a pile of stones. "So do I. There are some particularly nasty' ones: ghosts, a guardian, a sorcerer's curse, hidden traps for unwary looters, and evil beings that lurk in the city at night."

"That guardian," the Turic said, looking nervously around. "Even the Turic tell the story of Moy Tura's guardian."

"The Korg?" Piers said behind them. "No one has proven that it exists."

"What's the Korg supposed to be? Doesn't that word mean lion?" Gabria asked.

"Yes, it was an ancient breed of large lions that once lived on the plains. That lion at the front gate was supposed to be a korg, one of two that guard the gates," Piers explained. "But the guardian of the legends was a sorcerer originally---a shapechanger. He altered his shape to avoid the massacre and remained here after the city was destroyed. It is said he went mad and lost the power to revert to human form."

Gabria thought of the desperate sorcerer and stared sadly over the ruins around her. Living here would drive anyone mad. Even in the sunlight the shattered city was bleak and desolate. So much wisdom gone to waste.

The riders fell quiet again. Their voices seemed jarring and unnatural in the dead city. It was better to ride in wordless haste and get through there as fast as possible.

Before long they found the remains of Branth's night camp in an empty house. His tracks, still clear in the dust, continued from there deeper into the city.

The travelers were over halfway through the ruins when Nara and Eurus threw up their muzzles and tested the air.

Branth is close,
the mare told Gabria,
and so is something else.
She sprang forward.

"What is it?" Gabria cried. All the horses broke into a canter along the road.

I do not know. It is strange. It is near Branth.

Treader suddenly erupted into a furious barking,
Ahead! The man is close.
He bolted into the arched entrance of a courtyard. The riders followed him at a run. They burst through one of four gateways into what had once been a spacious, stone-paved courtyard in front of a multi-columned temple. Now the court was ful of debris and the temple was a pile of collapsed walls and shattered columns.

"There!" Athlone shouted, pointing toward a horse and rider in the shadow of the temple.

The rider glanced back at them in surprise, then he whipped his head around and stared at something in the temple ruins. His horse reared violently.

The travelers raced across the courtyard, led by Treader and those riding the Hunnuli. They saw Branth more clearly now. He was trying to regain control of his terrified horse. He savagely yanked its head around and whipped it forward into a frantic lunge just as a strange, fearsome beast sprang out from the fal en stones of the temple. A huge paw swiped at the horse's rump and missed. Branth wheeled his horse around a pile of stones, screeched in triumph, and sent his mount bolting out of the courtyard through another gate.

Snarling with rage, the beast turned to face the oncoming riders. Its body was half again as large as a Hunnuli's, but it had teeth like curved daggers and a great, tangled mane rumbling about its hideous face.

"The Korg!" Piers cried. "It's the missing stone lion."

Athlone reacted instantly. "Split up! Get out of here!"

The riders obeyed, for everyone could see that no weapon of theirs would make a dent on the stone flanks of the huge lion that faced them. They turned and rode desperately for the several gateways behind them. The beast roared in fury; its eyes glowed with an uncanny yellow light as it raced after the fleeing horses.

Before Gabria realized what he was doing, Sayyed slowed his horse and turned in the saddle. His hand raised, he fired a very pale blue bolt of Trymian Force at the lion. The feeble energy bounced off the beast's face, stinging it into a greater frenzy. It leaped forward faster.

"Sayyed, get out of here!" Gabria screamed.

The Turic's expression turned to horror, and he fled after the others. The warriors and Piers were already riding through the entrances. Gabria and Tam on Nara, Athlone on Eurus, Treader, and the colt were together in the courtyard when the lion final y caught them.

Gabria immediately created a wall of magic around her companions. The lion slammed into the invisible barrier and rocked back on its haunches. For just a moment, its yellow eyes blinked in stunned surprise, then it roared and paced along the front of the barrier, looking for a break in the wall.

In the brief respite provided by the shield, they made a dash for the gateway from the courtyard. In that time, Gabria also made up her mind to stop the creature, but without endangering Athlone. Quickly she told Nara what to do. "Hang on!" she yelled to Tam. The girl's arms tightened around Gabria's waist.

Just as Eurus reached the edge of the courtyard, Gabria dissolved the wall of force. Nara swerved sideways with Treader and the colt beside her, and Eurus gal oped through the arch before Athlone realized what had happened.

The stone lion did not hesitate. It turned after the mare and fol owed her as she gal oped back toward the temple. Gabria fired a powerful blast of Trymian Force that exploded on the lion's chest. The energy knocked the beast back, but it did no real damage. The lion was up and after the horse in a heartbeat.

Nara lured him on. She dashed out of the courtyard through the arch where Branth had gone and led the stone lion on a frantic chase through the ruined city, farther and farther away from their companions. Gabria kept the beast enraged with arcane blasts, but she could not kill it.

At last, the colt and Treader began to tire, and Nara looked for a place where they could hide and rest. They ran faster to put more distance between themselves and the lion, then they ducked into a maze of tumbled buildings and clogged streets. , They lost sight of the lion for a moment, but its roar of frustration echoed behind them. Nara kept going until they saw another, smaller temple. The place was half-buried in the rubble of the fal en building beside it.

"In there!" Gabria cried. "The gods will protect us."

Nara stopped at the entrance to let her riders dismount, and the little group hurried into the cool shadows of the temple's interior just as the lion bounded into the street behind them. It snarled furiously, a grating sound that overwhelmed the silence of the ruins.

Tam and Gabria held their breath. They and the animals pressed back into the shadows of the small room while the hideous lion stalked by. The beast's weight made the stones of the temple tremble. It hesitated near the entrance to the ruined building, yellow eyes staring malevolently, then passed on down the street. The thud of its footfal s slowly faded out of earshot.

Gabria threw her arms around Tam and hugged her tightly. They settled back into the dim, dusty temple, their eats straining to hear any more noise from the Korg. Time passed slowly. Now and then Gabria heard the lion roar in the distance, and she prayed to Amara that her companions had made it out of the city safely.

While they rested, Gabria had a chance to look around their little shelter. The temple was bigger than the one in which she had spent the winter, but it, too, was simple and unadorned. The only real difference between the houses of worship---apart from then state of repair---was a magnificently carved stone altar. Even under the din and cobwebs, Gabria could see the detailed design. One large figure on the front of the altar caught her eye in the pale light filtering through the doorway.