Nine Gates (62 page)

Deborah had turned her attention to Twentyseven-Ten. His helmet was off, and she was doing something to the side of his face.

Pearl, arm now in a sling, was inspecting Thorn, her expression pinched with pain and worry.

It isn’t trying to get at us now
, Brenda thought.
That can’t be good.

“Why isn’t there a guard here?” she asked, and heard the question come forth in a harsh, dry whisper. “This place is important to someone. Really important. Why isn’t someone here?”

“But someone is…”

The words came as a rumble, hardly discernible as words. Brenda felt a vague urge to try and decide whether they were spoken in Chinese or English, but recognizing there the temptation to stumble again into madness, she jerked herself to wider awareness.

Immediately, she understood why her mind had found madness tempting, for the scene around her, the scene that she must accept as real, was in itself insane.

The piles of metallic rock were moving, inching like ponderous caterpillars, falling into heaps that reassembled into shapes that became cubist distortions of almost familiar things.

Was that a skyscraper? No. More a rocket ship or a limousine balanced on its trunk. Over there the rocks heaped up into an arch that started walking stiffly, thudding footsteps rattling the teeth in Brenda’s head.

The assembled rocks moved without purpose that became purpose, assembling and unassembling, wall and bulwark, stocky legs like those of a brontosaurus. Sightless eyes made by dark gaps staring out. Gaping mouths leering. Nothing was in proportion, yet a face of sorts was emerging.

A voice like dripping lava shouted, “I am here!”

Brenda felt her hold on sanity trembling again. There was only so much she could take. She grasped out blindly, and found a hand—long-fingered, knobby-knuckled, slightly hairy across the back.

Waking Lizard gave her fingers a friendly squeeze and turned his grin on her. “You had to ask… Look. Whatever that is is not as purposeless as it seems. See? The formation that holds the gate is being moved steadily up. Whatever answered your question doesn’t want us getting near the gate.”

“If it’s afraid of us,” Des said, keeping his voice very soft, “then there must be something we can do to it, but for the life of me, I can’t think what.”

“Pai Hu,” Flying Claw added, also speaking in almost a whisper, “says the pulling has ceased. He is still held, but no longer compelled.”

“Tell him to pull back just a bit,” Brenda suggested. “I mean, the more ways that thing is distracted, the better.”

“I will try,” Flying Claw said.

Honey Dream nodded. “Good thought. I’ll speak with my father.”

Brenda wondered what Righteous Drum had to do with Pai Hu, then remembered that one of the other guardians
was the Azure Dragon of the East. Maybe Shen and Righteous Drum could do something in that quarter.

Rock, paper, scissors
, she thought wildly.
What harms rock? Nothing. Rock breaks scissors, scissors cut paper, paper wraps rock. We’d need a hell of a lot of paper.

Brenda heard herself giggle wildly, hysterically, felt Waking Lizard’s comforting hand dragging her back to the present.

“What’s so funny, Brenda?”

“Rock, paper, scissors. It’s a game.” She made the three signs with her free hand. “Everything has something that can defeat it, but we don’t have enough paper.”

Waking Lizard looked concerned, but Des—of her own world and culture—brightened.

“You’ve got something there, Brenda. The five elements. The cycle of creation and destruction.” He muttered under his breath, “Water makes Wood, but quenches Fire. Fire makes Earth, but melts Metal. Metal makes Water, but cuts Wood. Wood produces Fire, but destroys Earth.”

Brenda remembered this weird view of natural science from one of those endless lectures. There was a logic to how the Chinese had evolved their ideas, but right now she wasn’t interested in logic—only in whether they could make it work for them here.

“How does Wood destroy Earth, Des?”

“Roots,” Des said distractedly. “Plants feed on Earth. Even boulders can be split by tiny plants.”

“Plants!” Brenda repeated, thinking of Pai Hu’s desiccated jungle. Even if they made their way back up the trail, there wouldn’t be anything they could use. “We’re sunk.”

But Shen, who had arrived in time to hear the discourse, shook his head. “Perhaps not. I think this is something we should discuss in private.”

He broke an amulet bracelet, “Four Winds. I’ve told them to screen us. They won’t last long—not here—but we should have a few moments.”

Shen looked over at Righteous Drum, his expression
holding no anger, but rather an extreme awkwardness. Apparently, hot words had passed between them, but judging from the lack of evidence of physical injury, the argument had stayed on the intellectual plane.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t vicious though
, Brenda thought.

“Righteous Drum,” Shen began very formally, “our lore contains spells for creating or encouraging plants. Does yours?”

Righteous Drum pursed his lips, considering. “It does, but I fear…” He took a deep breath, and Brenda had a hint as to what the two scholars might have argued over, “I fear my training has focused on the practical, and in the Lands a sorcerer of my stature does not have time nor energy to concentrate on mere agriculture.”

Shen nodded. “Whereas my life has been much calmer and more inclined to the esoteric. Moreover, my Umeko loves plants, and living in the city as we do, growing them is not always easy. I have two sequences I can draw upon from memory: Greta’s Garden and Lily of the Valley. The one creates an instant garden of sorts, growing faster and larger the more ch’i one permits to feed it.”

Des gave a crisp nod. “I used to do Greta’s Garden before I started traveling so much that keeping a garden going in Santa Fe was hardly practical. I think I can pull it off.”

“I know both spells,” said Albert.

Brenda glanced his way, then looked back in astonishment. Albert’s left eye was swelling, and a distinct shiner was forming. She looked at her dad. Gaheris Morris’s left cheek bore four long, deep slices.

Oh, boy…

But Gaheris Morris spoke with remarkable calm. “My mother loves lilies of the valley. I used to suprise her with them out of season. I can do that one by heart.”

Waking Lizard laughed. “I thought I had nothing to offer, but there was a spell I learned long ago, when training as Monkey—almost as a joke. Yes. It will serve here.”

Flying Claw had not let his attention stray from the moving rocks, but clearly he had been listening.

“Good. You five prepare your spells—quickly.” He glanced at Chain and Shackles. “Are you willing to provide cover and distraction?”

They nodded. Brenda wondered what torments the madness had visited upon the former prisoners, for both were pale and worn.

A voice spoke from behind, in a tone that did not brook disagreement.

“I’m going with you,” Riprap said. He had come to join them, still carrying Nissa. Now he set her down gently beside Deborah. “Keep an eye on her. It was the staircase all over again, but worse, far worse.”

Deborah blinked, but didn’t ask for clarification.

Yeah
, Brenda thought.
We’re always our own worst enemies, aren’t we? The spells on that staircase had been disabled before I got to it, but I remember…

Flying Claw nodded at Riprap. “We will be glad to have you.”

“Count me in,” Brenda said.

“And me,” Honey Dream echoed.

“I,” Righteous Drum said, moving his shoulder so his empty sleeve flapped, “would perhaps do best to stay out of direct action. Perhaps Pearl should do the same?”

“I agree,” Pearl said. “No need to give you someone else to pull out.”

“Let’s refine our plan before Shen’s winds go down,” Albert said, “over here.”

Brenda didn’t join the impromptu huddle, but instead looked shyly at Pearl. “Sorry.”

Pearl nodded briskly. “These things happen.”

“I guess,” Brenda heard the doubt in her own voice. A hand came to rest on her shoulder. She looked over and saw her dad.

“Back me up, Breni?” Gaheris asked softly, his expression
at once serious and a bit manic. She’d seen him like this on Halloween when he had a particular prank in mind.

“Doing what?” Brenda tried not to stare at the line of scratches on his face.

“Going after…” Gaheris was beginning, when the huddle broke up.

“Here’s our strategy,” Flying Claw said, speaking crisply. Brenda hurried over to listen, fighting the unhappy feeling that here her dad was finally paying attention to her and she was ditching him, combined with the sense that Dad had been about to get her into something dumb—something she was just as glad not to have to go along with.

Flying Claw’s words continued with brisk efficiency, “Four of us—myself, Riprap, Chain, and Shackles—are going to go right up the middle, as if we’re targeting the gate. Albert, Des, Shen, Waking Lizard, and Gaheris, you’re to follow on our heels, but instead of charging to the top, your job will be to attack the stones themselves.”

Shen took over. “If we set our plants to start growing on the bottom layer of rocks, we may succeed in unsettling the entire edifice. That should not only serve our direct purpose of getting that gate closed, but also provide some protection for our front line.”

“Harder to throw rocks at us,” Riprap said, shifting his grip on what Brenda couldn’t help but think of as a Chinese baseball bat from hand to hand, “when they’re worrying about keeping on their feet.”

Flying Claw shifted his gaze to Brenda and Honey Dream. “You two back us up. We’re going to be too busy looking ahead to notice what’s coming from the side—or underneath. Improvise. You’ve both shown a gift for it.”

“Right,” Brenda said.

“Very well,” Honey Dream agreed.

Righteous Drum nodded. “I can provide distractions from back here. I have a few prepared spells that will cover you while you close.”

Flying Claw looked at Pearl and Deborah. “You two have the hardest job of all. Stay out of the fighting if you can. Keep the wounded protected. I don’t know if that thing will throw rocks like Riprap said, but I don’t think it’s going to discriminate between combatants and noncombatants.”

“The wounded’s own protective spells have mostly faded,” Pearl said, “and they’re not in a position to set up others.”

Brenda checked and noticed her own Dragon’s Tail was a bit thin. She started to add another, then decided to switch to All Winds and Dragons. It was the most powerful protection she had, and she didn’t think she should save it for a later that might not happen.

Honey Dream nodded curtly, but in clear approval. Around Brenda others were making last-minute preparations. Flying Claw glanced at his front rank.

“We can’t know how much that thing overheard,” he said. “It might not rely purely on whatever serves it for ears. Let’s get moving before it has time to act.”

Honey Dream
was not sure how she felt about being stationed in the back—her role no more prominent than that of Brenda Morris—but after consideration she decided that no insult was intended.

Although she had decent fighting skills, Honey Dream’s recent practice bouts with Pearl had shown her that she was not a front-line fighter—and she certainly couldn’t convince plants to grow from nothing and take root in what might or might not be rock.

Then she had no time left for wondering. Righteous Drum had lit the air above with a shower of shooting stars, a summons only slightly more beautiful than it was destructive.
The rocks ahead, which had settled into something like immobility, now reared and moved, shifting like blind worms to get away from the deadly lights.

Not wishing to have his spell harm his allies, Righteous Drum had aimed high, and most of the stars exploded relatively harmlessly in the air above the rocks, their streaks of red and green, blue and gold light turning the metallic hues of the rocks into an animate aurora borealis.

Running hard beneath the distraction offered by the shooting stars, Flying Claw was the first to reach the rocks. He bounded onto a lower tier, then up to the next. Honey Dream’s heart clenched with a desire so powerful that she almost followed. A chance glimpse of Brenda Morris’s face, caught between longing and determination, stayed her. Whatever else, Honey Dream the Snake would not be less faithful to her post than an apprentice Rat.

The rocks were reacting now, but most of the motion seemed to be on the upper levels. Honey Dream saw a solid arm shaped of small cubes punch out at Chain’s shoulder. The man parried with his blade, and the metal clanged protest. Riprap was battering away at an ever-renewing wall that kept forming between him and the next step upward.

Flying Claw was a wraith of motion. One moment he was a man in armor, in the next Honey Dream could have sworn a tiger leapt from rock to rock. One thing was certain, wherever he passed, the rocks moved more slowly thereafter.

The sorcerers had reached the base of the formation, but it seemed that the mass of rock could split its attention in many directions. Waking Lizard had tossed something into the center of a tight cluster in front of him, but the others did not seem to be having much success. Gaheris Morris seemed to have vanished entirely, and for a moment Honey Dream wondered if he had fled or been knocked out. Then she saw a shadow flicker where Gaheris should be, and knew he was trained in the Rat’s art of shadow motion.

Brenda called out, “Honey Dream, I think we’ve got to do something. What do you think about Twins?”

She held up an amulet bracelet, and Honey Dream, touched despite herself at having her advice asked, nodded.

“I’ll summon a wind and direct us,” she said. “That way you can use your amulets undistracted.”

“Great!” Brenda said. “I’ve got a three-part set. We’ll drop Heaven, Hell, and Earth where they’ll provide cover for the gardeners.”

Honey Dream had heard her father speak of these spells and highly approved. They were idealized warriors, and within limits had a certain amount of tactical volition.