The Standing Dead - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 02 (50 page)

Their
shadows
were
short
by
the
time
the
land
ahead began
to
pool
with
fire.
The
incandescence
of
the
lagoon twitched
and
flickered
as
herds
slid
before
it.
Soon Carnelian
could
see
its
full
horizontal
stretch
and
the creeping
mass
of
saurians.
The
riders
had
fallen
silent, their
shoulders
and
arms
tense
as
they
made
slow scanning
turns
with
their
heads.

As
the
hunt
drew
closer
to
the
water,
the
herds
resolved into
the
individual
boulders
of
backs;
into
necks
that stretched
to
the
very
tops
of
the
acacias.
Several
times
the hunt
curved
a
detour
round
what
appeared
to
be
rocks nestling
among
the
ferns.
When
one
of
these
lifted
a
head larger
than
a
man
and
grinned
a
mouth
packed
with dagger
teeth,
a
trickle
of
sweat
ran
down
Carnelian's spine.
It
made
him
understand
why
his
aquar
was
holding her
head
so
high,
shifting
it
nervously
from
side
to
side, hardly
blinking
her
huge
eyes.

Entering
a
herd,
Carnelian
began
to
feel
as
much
as hear
their
lumbering
thunder.
Horned
heads
were
everywhere
cropping
the
ferns.
Sometimes
one
would
lift
dull eyes
to
watch
them
pass.
On
occasion,
this
lifting
would cause
so
many
heads
to
rise
it
was
as
if
a
host
lying hidden
in
the
ferns
sprang
up
in
ambush.

The
herds
crowded
the
lagoon
margin.
Out
from
the shore,
the
water
was
dulled
by
drifts
of
wading
birds. Islands
rose
here
and
there
that
Carnelian
might
have imagined
to
be
cities
except
their
towers
were
shifting more
than
they
should
in
the
melting
air.

Crowrane
led
them
parallel
to
and
at
some
distance from
the
shore.
When
they
spotted
a
thinning
in
the
herd, they
slowed
to
a
walk
and
began
veering
in
the
direction of
the
water.
Carnelian
gaped
at
an
assembly
of
mountainous
heaveners,
their
heads
reaching
far
out
over
the lagoon.
He
watched
one
rising,
leaking
water,
climbing so
high
he
had
to
crane
to
see
it
swaying
black
in
the blinding
sky.

As
they
neared
the
shore,
Carnelian
saw
how
nervously the
riders
were
spreading
out,
javelins
and
bull-roarers hanging
from
their
hands.
Some
dismounted
and,
looking round
them
all
the
time,
led
the
aquar
with
the
drag-cradles
to
the
water.

No
one
seemed
to
be
looking
at
him.
Carnelian
allowed himself
to
relax
a
little
.
It
was
hard
to
believe
all
these preparations
were
an
elaborate
attempt
on
his
life
and Osidian's.

Locating
Krow,
Carnelian
rode
towards
him.
'What
can we
do
to
help?'

The
youth
pinched
his
lips
together
with
his
fingers, which
gesture
Carnelian
read
as
meaning
he
should speak
more
quietl
y.
Krow
caused
his
mount
to
kneel
and climbed
out.
Carnelian
waited
for
Osidian
and
Ravan
to dismount
before
doing
the
same.
Standing
on
tremoring earth,
he
glanced
at
the
heaveners.
It
seemed
madness
to walk
so
near
such
giants.
One
detonated
a
snort.
Its
hide rippled
as
the
water
made
the
journey
down
its
throat.
Its musk
weighed
the
air.

Krow
took
Carnelian's
arm
and
pulled.
'Come
on,'
he whispered.

Carnelian
and
the
others
followed
Krow
to
a
drag-cradle
from
which
men
were
distributing
waterskins. Carnelian
was
given
one.
Making
sure
Osidian
was close,
Carnelian
returned
with
Krow
to
the
lagoon.
Earth began
softening
to
mud.
They
waded
out
into
the
lapping water
and
Carnelian
sank
his
waterskin
as
he
saw
Krow was
doing.
He
narrowed
his
eyes
against
the
swaying dazzle.
Warm
water
licked
up
his
body.
He
opened
the mouth
of
the
waterskin
and
it
began
to
swallow.
Shadow slipped
over
him
as
if
from
a
cloud.
A
wave
surging
up
his chest
made
him
lose
his
footing
for
a
moment.
A
glistening
wall
was
rising
from
the
lagoon
as
a
heavener
lifted
its leg
from
the
water.
Wading
deeper,
the
vast
arch
of
its back
eclipsed
the
sun.
Fear
mixed
with
wonder
as, riding
the
surge,
Carnelian
watched
the
monster
lead
a procession
of
heaveners
away
from
the
shore.

His
waterskin
was
drowning
and
so
he
drew
it
up, folded
its
neck,
secured
it,
then
hefted
it
round
onto
his shoulder.
He
plodded
back
to
the
drag-cradle
where
he swung
it
into
the
arms
of
a
man
who
was
stacking
them. Carnelian
took
an
empty
waterskin.
Other
drag-cradles were
being
loaded
nearby.
A
rising
falling
whistling
made him
whisk
round,
his
heart
hammering.
Three
riders
were arcing
bull-roarers
round
their
heads,
focusing
on
an earther
which
was
ambling
towards
the
cradles.
The creature
made
Carnelian
remember
the
Bloodwood
Tree. The
bull-roarers
spinning
faster
opened
the
whistling
to
a moan.
The
bull
swung
away
and
they
chased
him
from
the drag-cradles.