The Keeper's Shadow (4 page)

Mabatan snorts contemptuously. This Dirt Eater presumes much and understands nothing.

A strained silence takes them well past the edge of the red stick forest. Once safely concealed in its shadows, Willum lifts Stowe off the horse, removes its saddle and sends it galloping off in the opposite direction from Fairview.

“What are you doing?” gasps the Dirt Eater.

Willum almost appears amused. “The horse would not like where we are going.”

“You look every bit like a Master of the City, or someone close to them,” the healer accuses. Then looking over Mabatan, she sputters, “You could be anything. Boy, girl, man, woman. What are you?”

“I am a woman. The same age as you. We Wazya are different than most.”

The confusion of emotions that play over the Dirt Eater's face is almost comic. Mischievously content, Mabatan turns and taps out an arrhythmic beat on a fallen log.

“People of the Earth? They're a myth. No one's ever seen them. Wazya! That's too easy a lie to tell.”

Mabatan raises an eyebrow and at Willum's nod, tilts her head toward the Dirt Eater, grinning. “My father is a brown speckled rat. I believe you have met him. In your fenced-in Dreamfield.”

“It's not possible.” The healer sighs, slumping down on the log.

“If you wouldn't mind,” Willum asks, indicating she might want to move.

As her seat begins to roll beneath her, she bolts up again like a startled frog. When a fanged figure emerges from the exposed ground, the Dirt Eater stumbles back, gasping, “Blood Drinker!”

Mabatan scowls at the terrified healer. “This is Mhyzah. She's Hhroxhi. We'll be traveling with her now. And you will want to keep your ignorance to yourself.”

Willum gently carries Stowe over to Mhyzah, who takes the sleeping girl and disappears into the hole. Then, with a firm grip on the Dirt Eater's arm, he murmurs, “After you.”

THE RAT

THE EARTH'S FORESTS WERE REPLENISHED. ABUNDANT WILDLIFE ROAMED THE LUSH UNDERGROWTH AND THE WIDE GOLDEN VALLEYS. BUT THE EYES OF THE PEOPLE SHOWED NO INTELLIGENCE. THEY PERISHED BEFORE THE BEASTS DEFENSELESS. ALL THEIR DREAMS HAD BEEN TAKEN FROM THEM.

—ROAN,
VISION #117, YEAR 7 A.C.
DREAMFIELD JOURNALS OF THE
FIRST INNER CIRCLE

R
OAN WALKS ALONG THE VOLCANIC ROCK,
to where a dozen younger Apsara perfect their swordplay
.
The women dodge one another's blows in a mesmerizing dance. The blades never touch, though the sharp whirr of the steel leaves no doubt what would happen if they came into contact with skin and bone.

Inside the temple, several dozen more of Kira and Ende's people are seated cross-legged on the floor in deep meditation. Here the only sound is their perfectly coordinated breathing, the exhale and inhale so exact that it slits the air with the precision of a calligrapher's brush. The Apsara's discipline dwarfs that of the Brothers: it's no wonder they're such formidable fighters.

Standing before a heavy stone door, Roan waits. He knows that Ende will feel his presence and the door will open when she's ready. He doesn't wait long.

The room is so gracefully appointed it exudes serenity. At its center is a simple table, perfectly proportioned, the wood grain curved into a vibrant spiral. Two cups are set on it; made of fine white clay, they appear strong yet delicate. Even the bamboo mat Roan sits on is woven in a way that soothes the eye. The woman herself embodies the room's perfection: lithe, long limbs rippling with muscle, her aging face both beautiful and wise, her smile an invitation but also a warning.

“You have lost the clarity you experienced after your last ordeal,” she says, pouring Roan some tea. The scent of spearmint rising from it calms him.

“I realize it's important to put the past to rest, but seeing Wolf and Asp and Stinger, hearing their voices…I just don't know if I can do it. They came to the Caldera with the intention of serving me but now, with the added problem of Asp—”

“You overestimate your obstacles. Keep in mind, Roan, that you are not being asked to forgive the Brothers or even to understand them, but to lead them. Accomplish this and you may also be able to guide them, in thought as well as action, and prevent the anguish you experienced from becoming another's.”

Roan shudders.

“It may be distasteful to you, Roan of Longlight, but it is not an unworthy endeavor.”

“I had a vision—”

Ende holds up her hand, stopping him. “I am not the one to interpret your visions but I do know to whom you must speak.”

Roan extends his awareness beyond the room, hoping to get a sense of what awaits him.

“No, no,” the ancient warrior sighs as she takes a sip of tea. “You cannot meet him here. Rat awaits you in the Dreamfield.”

At the mention of the creature, Roan's stomach flips. “Large, with brown speckles?”

Ende puts down her cup. “Ah, you remember him. He thought you would.”

How could he forget? And Rat was in his vision too. Their first encounter in over a year. This can be no coincidence. But what is the creature's connection to Ende? “I was under the impression that Rat was a Dirt Eater. They took orders from him.”

“Think back on your meetings with him.”

“The first time he came to me by himself. I was at my house, after Longlight was destroyed. He warned me to leave. He was right.”

Without looking up, Ende pours herself another cup of tea. “Has he given you any other good advice?”

“Several times. But I'm telling you, he was also with the Dirt Eaters. I'm sure he was one of them.”

“This is all you know of him?”

Roan remembers what Haron of Oasis told him. “During the Wars, when my great-grandfather decided to put a stop to the fighting and divide up the rebels, he said the instructions came to him in a dream, from a rat.”

Ende touches her fingertips together. “The rat comes to those in need, and to those who share a common interest.”

“Like what?”

“The preservation of the Dreamfield, for one. The Dirt Eaters have only met a small part of the rat. They fear and therefore respect him, thinking him some kind of guardian animus, an aspect of the Dreamfield that can divine the future. Dirt Eater nonsense.”

Studying Ende's face, every nuance of her body and voice, Roan can detect nothing but openness and truth. “Once he told me he was many and few. What does that mean?”

“That, you will have to ask him.”

Roan is hesitant. “How? How do I move freely in the Dreamfield, without risking being found by the Turned or the Dirt Eaters?”

“You have the ring. The Badger is a protective spirit. When you breathe yourself into the Dreamfield, put a picture of it squarely in your mind. It will lead you to a safe place. Rat will find you there.”

Roan considers Ende's instructions. Why does he see traps everywhere? Why has it become impossible to trust even those who seek to help him? As if sensing his doubts, his white cricket leaps onto his knee and begins to sing. “I see you've already made up your mind,” Roan says. Closing his eyes, he slowly sips the air. His thumb passes over the ring Saint gave him and a picture of the enigmatic badger takes shape.

R
OAN DUCKS DEFENSIVELY AS AN AVALANCHE OF BLAZING ROCK CRASHES AROUND HIM
. B
UT ALMOST IMMEDIATELY HE REALIZES HE IS SOMEHOW PROTECTED FROM THE INFERNO
. R
EACHING OUT TO EXAMINE THE TRANSPARENT PERIMETER, HE GASPS IN AWE AS HIS HAND PRESSES AGAINST ITS FLEXIBLE SURFACE
. G
LOWING COALS EVAPORATE INTO DUST OPPOSITE HIS FINGERTIPS
. A
WARE THAT HE IS NO LONGER ALONE,
R
OAN DROPS HIS ARM
. H
E CANNOT KEEP THE SUSPICION FROM HIS VOICE AS HE TWISTS TO SEE
R
AT LICKING HIS PAWS ON THE GRANITE FLOOR
. “H
OW DID YOU KNOW I WOULD COME?
”

“I
DID NOT KNOW
. Y
OU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE UNDER SIEGE
, R
OAN OF
L
ONGLIGHT
. T
HOUGH
D
ARIUS CANNOT EXTEND HIMSELF PAST HIS BORDERS, STILL HE SENSES THE SHADOWS BEYOND HIS REACH
. H
IS
C
ONSTRUCTIONS RIP AT THE FABRIC OF THE
D
REAMFIELD
. N
O ONE CAN WALK FREELY NOW
. T
HIS IS ONE OF THE FEW PLACES THAT CAN BE SAFELY APPROACHED
.” R
AT'S EYES ARE OPENLY CURIOUS
. “D
ESPITE THE
B
ADGER'S PROTECTION, YOU COME AT GREAT RISK
. W
HY?
”

“E
NDE ADVISED ME TO CONSULT YOU
.”

“T
ELL
E
NDE TIMES HAVE CHANGED AND SHE MUST NOT PUT SO MUCH STORE IN MY CUNNING
. B
UT SINCE WE ARE BOTH SAFELY HERE
…”

“I
HAD A…VISION
.”

R
AT CLOSES HIS EYES
. “T
ELL ME WHAT YOU SAW
.”

“S
TOWE WAS A TREE THAT BURNED TO GOLDEN ASH
. I
KILLED A BULL WITH MY HOOK-SWORD
. B
LOOD RAN DOWN IT AND FELL ON THE CHILDREN, THE FOURTEEN
N
OVAKIN
. I
T EASED THEIR PAIN
. B
UT THEN MY SWORD MELDED TO MY HAND
. W
ILLUM GATHERED THE ASH THAT WAS
S
TOWE AND SCATTERED IT OVER THE
N
OVAKIN
. D
O YOU KNOW
W
ILLUM?
Y
OU WERE ON HIS KNEE
.”

W
ITHOUT OPENING HIS EYES,
R
AT NODS ONCE
. “P
LEASE, CONTINUE
.”

“I
N THE VISION,
W
ILLUM TOLD ME WE HAVE ONLY UNTIL THE BULL RISES IN THE EAST
. T
HEN, IF WE FAIL, ALL ENDS
.”

R
AT'S EYES OPEN
. “R
OAN OF THE
P
ARTING DIPPED HIS FINGERS IN THE RIVER OF TIME AND SAW VISIONS OF WHAT WAS TO COME, THINGS FOR WHICH HE FELT RESPONSIBLE
. H
E DECIDED TO TRY TO CHANGE THAT FUTURE
. Y
OU MIGHT THINK THIS PURE ARROGANCE BUT WHEN HE SOUGHT OUT MY ANCESTOR,
A
ITHUNA, HE WAS ACCOMPANIED BY CRICKETS
. T
HIS CONVINCED HER TO HELP HIM CARVE OUT THE PATH HE THOUGHT MIGHT SAVE US
. B
UT THERE ARE NO CERTAINTIES AND REALITY LAYS A CIRCUITOUS TRACK AROUND OUR CHOSEN COURSE
.

“W
HILE IT IS CLEAR FROM YOUR VISION THAT THE
N
OVAKIN MIGHT STILL BE SAVED, IT IS ALSO EVIDENT THAT YOUR SISTER'S SURVIVAL IS IN PERIL
. F
IRE IS THE ELEMENT OF THE SPIRIT
. S
TOWE'S BURNS BRIGHTLY,
R
OAN, BUT WHEN SHE CAME UNDER
D
ARIUS'S THRALL, HE LEVELED A GREAT VIOLENCE AGAINST HER
. W
ILLUM WAS ABLE TO CONTAIN THE WORST OF HIS ATTACKS, BUT WE NEGLECTED TO ANTICIPATE THE DANGER POSED BY THE
D
IRT
E
ATERS
. W
E UNDERESTIMATED THEIR MALIGNITY AND IT HAS COST US ALMOST EVERYTHING
.

“T
HERE IS NO ONE WHO REGRETS OUR ERRORS MORE THAN
W
ILLUM
. H
E KNOWS OUR MISTAKES HAVE COST YOUR SISTER A VITAL PART OF HER SPIRIT
.”

“W
HAT DO YOU MEAN—HOW?
”

“S
TOWE'S POSSESSION BY A
D
IRT
E
ATER HAS TAKEN FROM HER WHAT SHE MIGHT HAVE SALVAGED HAD SHE ESCAPED
D
ARIUS WHOLE
.”

“I
SN'T THERE ANYTHING THAT CAN BE DONE FOR HER
?”

“W
E ARE DOING ALL THAT CAN BE DONE
. B
UT,
R
OAN, YOUR SISTER MUST BE ALLOWED TO WALK TOWARD HER OWN FATE AS SURELY AS YOU MUST HAVE THE FREEDOM TO WALK TOWARD YOURS
.”

T
HAT MAY BE,
R
OAN THINKS, BUT IF THERE'S A WAY TO PROTECT HIS SISTER, HE'S NOT GOING TO STAND BY AND DO NOTHING
. H
E CAN'T
.

R
AT FASTIDIOUSLY SMOOTHS HIS TAIL AS IF SEEKING ANSWERS ON ITS FLESHY PINK SURFACE.
“Y
OUR VISION OUTLINES YOUR DILEMMA
. T
HE SWORD IS LEADERSHIP, THE BLOOD ON IT IS THE BLOOD OF THE BULL
. T
HIS IMPLIES THE INVOLVEMENT OF THE
B
ROTHERS OR THE
F
RIEND, OR BOTH,
I
CANNOT SAY
. Y
OU KNOW THIS BUT FEAR IT BECAUSE YOU DESIRE A SOLUTION WITHOUT VIOLENCE
. B
UT
R
OAN, BLOOD IS ALSO A SYMBOL OF HOPE, OF LIFE
. I
N YOUR DREAM IT AIDS THE CHILDREN
. V
IOLENCE COMES WHETHER WE WILL IT OR NO
. T
HE SWORD MELDS WITH YOUR HAND BECAUSE YOU KNOW YOU CANNOT TURN YOUR BACK ON THE RESPONSIBILITY BEFORE YOU
. I
F YOU DO, ALL WILL BE LOST
.”

“I
HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS
.”

R
AT'S NOSE TWITCHES
. “R
EMEMBER THE WORDS OF YOUR PARENTS: TO WIN WAR YOU MUST ENVISION PEACE
. T
O DO OTHERWISE CLOSES THE WAY
.” R
AT CROUCHES BACK IN PREPARATION TO LEAP
.

“W
AIT!
”
CRIES
R
OAN
. “T
ELL ME: HOW CAN YOU BE MANY AND FEW?
”

“O
BSERVE
.” T
HE RAT'S BODY MELTS ONTO THE STONE, BECOMING A SWIRLING MASS ON THE SMOOTH ROCK
. I
T CONGEALS FIRST INTO THE FACE OF AN OLD MAN, THEN A YOUNG WOMAN, SOON REPLACED BY A MIDDLE-AGED MAN
. D
OZENS OF FACES CHANGING IN SHAPE AND AGE, THE LAST OF A MAN WHOSE DARK EYES AND BROW SEEM ODDLY FAMILIAR
.