The Warrior Returns - Anteros 04 (52 page)

"Where are you going, child?" she called, getting up to follow.

"Over here," I said. Which is answer enough for any child.

I stopped at my mother's shrine. "I used to play in this garden all the time," I said as Novari came up, so light and graceful on her feet she seemed to float above the path.

"I suppose you would have," she said. "It was your home, after all. And now it'll be your home again. But with me. And you can play here all you like."

"I used to play with Amalric and Halab," I said. "They were my brothers."

Novari frowned. "How could you, Emilie? I don't know who Halab was, but Amalric Antero was your great-uncle. Not your brother."

I shrugged. "Maybe they were ghosts." I pointed at the shrine. "That's my mother's special place." I pointed out the fountain. "And that's her special fountain."

Novari grew impatient. "Come now. You know very well that shrine belongs to Emilie Antero, your great-grandmother. That's who you're named for. What game are you playing, child?"

"It's no game," I said. "It's the truth."

Then I frowned. "Or maybe another ghost," I said. "There's lots of Antero ghosts. Lots and lots of ghosts."

I turned away, taking the rolled-up leaf from my cloak pocket I unrolled it hiding the splinter in my palm. Then I dipped the silver leaf into the water.

It came up glittering and fresh as if it'd just fallen from the branch. Glowing drops splattered on the pavement.

I turned back to Novari, suddenly blushing and shy.

"What's that, Emilie?" Novari asked, indicating the sparkling leaf.

I said, shy as I could, "A present For you."

Novari looked pleased. "What a treat" she said. "Your very first present to me." But she hesitated, fingers inches away from the leaf.

She examined it "A silver leaf," she finally said. "How pretty. Where did you get it?"

"I grew it myself," I said proudly. "I worked ever so hard growing it. Because to get a leaf you have to grow a tree first.

And I had to water the tree every day for weeks and weeks and weeks and weeks. And then a leaf got borned."

I held up a finger. "It's the only one."

I pushed the leaf toward her. "You can have it if you want." I shrugged, suddenly indifferent. "I can grow another any old time."

Her hand moved to the leaf.

I had the splinter hidden beneath it, and I gave a little push just as she touched—pricking her with the sharp point.

"Ouch," she said, snatching her hand back. She frowned at the speck of blood on her finger.

"I'm sorry," I said.

I held out the splinter. "This was in my pocket, too," I said. "It must've gotten stuck to the leaf."

"You should be more careful, Emilie," Novari said, a bit angry.

I felt my eyes fill with tears. "I didn't mean to spoil the present," I said, all atremble. "You won't get mad, will you?" A hysterical edge caught my voice. "You won't deaded me, will you? Just for a little mistake."

"Of course I won't, child," Novari said impatiently. "Here. Give me the leaf. I love the present. Thank you very much.

"And then I'll give you a present. And we'll be the best of friends."

"Forever and ever," I said.

"Yes, dear. Now, give me the leaf."

I gave it to her, fumbling as I did so she'd touch it with her wounded finger and her sorcerous blood would mingle with the magic of the silver leaf.

Novari howled as if she'd just plunged her hand into a vat of lye.

She leaped away, flailing the air, trying to let loose the leaf. But it had become molten, adhering and burning her with its sorcerous heat.

"Get away, get away," she screamed, shaking her hand furiously. Then she recovered wits enough for spell-casting and shouted, "Begone!"

The molten leaf vanished But the skin on her hand was an angry red.

She stormed over to me, anger searing the air with a heat as intense as the burning leaf—and I smelled the sulfurous poison of th
e killing spell she was forming
in her mind.

I pretended to cower, but I was reaching for my own magical weapons^ senses finding and marking the weakness in her shield.

"What did you do, Emilie?" she screamed. "What did you do?"

The heavens were split by lightning.

And the voice of a giant child called out.

"EMILIE? YOU WANT EMILI
E? WHERE, OH WHERE COULD SHE BE?"

There was a giggle and the skies shimmered with the child's amusement. And then she chanted:

"Emilie here. Emilie there. Emilie, Emilie everywhere. Up and down. All around. Better look out for Emilie, Emilie, Emilie
Emilie."

There was another blast of li
ghtning and a great white cloud scudded into view. The cloud had Emilie's face.

Novari stared at me, then the cloud. Her mouth opened wide. It was the first time I'd ever seen her features less than perfectly composed.

And then we heard:

"EMILI
E
SAYS STOP!"

The sky seemed to crack. First a long jagged thread splintered the blue. Then other threads formed. Faster and faster.

And then they shattered, and pieces of blue sky and bright yellow sun fluttered down from bleak winter heavens.

A harsh wind swept through the garden. Flower heads froze to their stems. Insects fell to the ground. The water in the fountain popped and cracked, then froze in midair.

And the gray one-eyed cat squalled and ran for shelter.

Then, echoing from far off Galana, I could hear the strains of music coming from Novari's great lyre machine.

But it wasn't Novari playing.

A child's voice accompanied the music, singing a merry tune:

"Emilie here. Emilie there. Emilie, Emilie everywhere. Up and down. All around. Better look out for Emilie, Emilie, EmilieEmilie."

It began to snow, light glittering flakes drifting down from the cloud and swirling all around us.

I took a step toward Novari, my heavy soldier's boots crunching the snow. Novari stared at me, features clotted with surprised disbelief.

I was tall and strong now. A mailed warrior woman with a pirate's patch, a single fierce eye, and a golden hand glowing with power. And in that hand I held a silver spear, the transformed splinter from my ship.

"Rali!" she exclaimed.

I saw emotions at war on her face. The surprise dissolved into anger and the anger became hate. And then hate was routed and a strange soft light played about her.

She said, soft and low and yes, even with a touch of love: "Rali
..."

I'd thought of this moment many times. I'd seen the confrontation in countless dreams. And in rolling seas and billowy skies as I sailed from the ends of the world itself for this meeting.

There were a thousand things I wanted to say.
Had
said in those imaginary meetings. All were wounding. All were hateful.

But now when I finally did face her, the hate was gone. It surprised me.

Then Novari nodded. An understanding passed between us. And she said again, flatly, "Rali."

I parted my lips as if to speak. A smile twitched at the edge of her lips, and she leaned slightly toward me to hear my first words.

But I didn't speak.

Instead I hurled the spear.

My etherhand gave the spear such force that its rush through the air was an explosion that wracked the ears.

Novari flung up her arm to strike it down. But I guided the spear with my ethereye, driving through her spell and striking deep into the wound in her shield.

I willed it to go deeper and deeper, piercing all the way through until it found the magical heart of her.

Novari was flung across the garden, clutching her breast and screaming in pain. She fell on the snow, staining it with her blood.

She screamed again and I was rushing forward—for against all belief the wound had not been mortal.

I grabbed for the spear haft, meaning to drive it all the way through and into the ground. But just as I touched it, Novari vanished and my hand closed on empty air as the spear clattered to the ground.

I whirled to find her, drawing my sword.

She was sagging against my mother's shrine, blood streaming down her white dress.

Novari saw me charging toward her and she cried out. And the cry became that of a wild creature of the skies, and I saw her transforming into the great golden Lyre Bird.

A magical claw ripped the sword from my grasp and flung it away. There was a blast of light and I rammed into a hard opaque surface.

Just beyond that invisible shield I could see golden wings arching from Novari's back.

Then there was an Otherworldly shrill as she tapped the ethers for still more power and it came rushing to her like a pent-up river that had been suddenly released.

I smashed at the shield with my golden hand, trying to get at her. I felt it give, then firm again.

In a moment it would be too late. And all would be lost.

And then I heard a child shout:

"EMILI
E
SAYS NO!"

It was like a thunderclap. The air was seared by the force of Emilie's spell. The snow melted and ran across the ground in little glowing creeks. The creeks gathered into a single stream that flowed between my feet and under Novari's shield.

It touched my mother's shrine and light shimmered all along the stone's surface.

I smelled the scent of sandalwood, my mother's favorite perfume. Then I heard her ghostly voice whisper in my ear: "I'm here, Rali."

And I hammered once more on the shield.

It shattered under my golden hand and I stepped through, drawing my dagger.

The Lyre Bird—fully transformed now—rose from the ground, mighty wingbeats sounding like drums in a giant's village. There were long, jagged lightning
-
like spurs gripped in her claws, spitting sorcerous fire. And she swooped forward to attack.

I braced to meet it, my mother's ghost by my side.

Then all time seemed to stand still and a strange peace came over me. My mind was free and I knew I was ready to die. In that shadowy moment I thought of all the other Anteros who'd fought and died. Some nobly. Some not so nobly. But they were Anteros just the same. And I felt as one with them all. I thought of Emilie, who was the family's only hope for the future. If there was to be a future.

And my mother's ghost whispered, "Rali means hope."

And the wind sighed, "Rali means hope."

I heard other voices, ghostly voices. Antero voices. First Halab and Hermias. Then others, men and women and children, all calling my name.

And then I heard Amalric say, 'Take our strength, Rali. Take our power.

"Strike, Rali! Strike!"

And so I did.

I felt as strong as the goddess herself. I stamped the earth and the earth split, and I reached for the power of the hells. Greycloak's laws became mine. All that makes weight and heat and light and the very storms that toss us became mine. To that I added Rali's law: the will to live. And I made it into a great molten ball and I hurled it at the onrushing Lyre Bird, shouting:

"EMILI
E
SAYS!"

There was a wild shrill of bursting harp strings. And the bird plummeted to the ground.

As I ran to it, the bird was transforming into Novari. Beautiful Novari
...
taking form while music wept rivers of sorrow.

I stood over her as she breathed her last. She became quite still. Then her face relaxed into a look of great peace. And her lips parted.

And I heard a whisper: "Free
..."

The whisper rose on a perfumed breath, and I stepped back in wonder as shimmery forms misted up from Novari's body. They rose to the cold skies, floating on musical streams made of lyre notes.

They were the ghosts of maidens, hundreds of them. Some just girls. Others young women. All so beautiful that the gods themselves must have marveled to see them.

And then they were gone and the music stopped.

All was silent. I felt suddenly very alone, and knew the ghosts had departed.

I looked down and there was only a gown of virginal white where Novari's body had been.

My strength drained away and I stumbled as I turned, looking about the garden. It was cold and the melted snow had already frozen into pebbled ice that reflected light like spectral jewels.

And I thought of Salimar, who waited far away, across icy seas and frozen lands where the earth ends and love begins. I wept for joy.

But a few of the tears I shed had the taste of salty sorrow. Sorrow for the tragic creature who was the Lyre Bird—and for the poor woman I'd known as Novari.