Banner of souls (33 page)

"Come back!" The call came from behind. "You will die in the maw, digested slowly. But we will make it a quicker death…"

Dreams-of-War did not answer. Instead, choosing her position with care, she paused at the lips of the third mouth and began hacking swiftly at the curling spines with the gutting knife. The spines thrashed and coiled, lashing out with barbed tips that bit deep into Dreams-of-War's flesh, sending lightning along the wounds made by the excissieres. Behind her, the padding feet of the huntresses drew closer.

Ducking between the spines, Dreams-of-War made a deep vertical cut in the wall of the lip. It drew back, flat-tening out against the earth. Now she could see the threads of the Earthbones, running red-veined through the soil. Moonlight flooded through as the breathing vent opened, and in another second Dreams-of-War was swarming up the side of the third maw, using the spines as a ladder. She was already forcing herself through the vent into the cold night air, emerging from the ground in a witch-haze of smoke, as the third mouth turned back upon the huntresses. Dreams-of-War listened to their brief cries with a grim satisfaction, before all fell silent. At her feet, the vent closed once more with a wet snap.

Dreams-of-War strode away down the canyon, and did not look back. With the Earthbones evaded and her pursuers dead, she was now free to plan. When she reached the end of the canyon, she squatted at the edge of a spring sink, gazing out across the shallow water. Rust-red reeds swayed in the breeze, cracking the ice that lay across the sink. Dreams-of-War welcomed the cold.

There were, to her mind, only two true choices. She could remain out here in the wilds, battling hyenae and other men-remnants, for an indefinite period. The notion held a certain appeal.

Dreams-of-War was sick of people, particularly her own kind. But thoughts of Lunae kept in-truding, weakening her. To restore her spirits, she drew more closely to the fire of anger: a rage that was directed purely at Yskatarina and the Memnos Matriarchy. That, then, was the second choice: to return to the Tower and extract vengeance. To Dreams-of-War's mind, this was by far the most alluring option.

Besides, the Memnos Tower seemed to present the greatest opportunity for gaining in-formation.

She splashed the cold water over her face and stood, scenting the air. She was now to the east of the Tower, per-haps a day's walk. Taking a roundabout route through the canyons, she set off.

The horned woman stepped out of nowhere. One mo-ment, Dreams-of-War was walking through an empty canyon, the next, the woman was standing in front of her.

It was immediately apparent to Dreams-of-War that she was not real, nor yet a hallucination, like the herd of gaezelles that she had encountered before. The woman was slightly transparent. Coiled horns grew up from her head, lending her a top-heavy appearance. Her feet, which resembled hooves, were small. She tapered to a point, like a jar. Dreams-of-War had seen her like before, on the stele that decorated the interior of the Memnos Tower: an an-cient people, whose name had long since been forgotten.

"You are from the past," Dreams-of-War said. "Are you a ghost?"

"I am Essa. I am a message," the ram-horned woman said. "From a hundred years ago. I have been programmed into the soil. I have come to find you. It has not been easy."

"A hologram, then?"

The ram-horned woman smiled. Her eyes, Dreams-of-War noted, were intensely blue, the color of the skies of Earth.

" 'Ghost' is better. I programmed myself in many per-mutations."

"Why do you appear to me now, then?" The armor had spoken of someone called Essa, she remembered now..

"Because once we prepared for this day—the old Ma-triarch and I, and she whose armor you wore, and the twinned women Yri and Yra. We set things in motion. Some of us died, for a time. And now I am back, and learn-ing. Haunt-tech is feeding back upon itself, sending infor-mation out and retrieving it from the tech in the land. It was through this I found out about your return and the hunt. Moreover, a ghost is running Memnos. Did you know this?"

"I had noticed. How did that happen?"

"The Matriarch had her reanimated. Once, she was my mistress, but now she is governed by Nightshade. She is Martian no longer, but the excissieres listen to her, be-cause she holds the Matriarchs phial. And the warriors obey her because she controls the excissieres."

Dreams-of-War snorted. "It's time for some changes at Memnos."

"Come with me." The ram-horned woman turned and began to walk. Warily, Dreams-of-War followed the woman along the canyon. She seemed to be solidifying, growing harder and sharper-edged with each step she took. Dreams-of-War wondered whether the program-ming was more detailed the farther one went into the rocks. It seemed likely. Even without the armor, she could sense the programming: a hum in the air, the flickering of the shadows. Lost technology: an ancient by-product of terraforming, perhaps nano-driven, in which the very soil could speak. It made her wonder how this might be used against the Matriarchy. And it was homegrown Martian, which gave her a little pride.

Haunt-tech was not the only technology that could be useful.

"Where are we going?"

"To find my ship. And your armor."

Mars

Lunae was awoken by the armor.

"Someone approaches!" it said.

Lunae sat upright, quivering. The kappa stirred. Knowledge-of-Pain was already on her feet and stepping across the smoldering fire to the armor, which flowed smoothly over her body. Next moment, an arrow-bolt shot past Lunae's head and embedded itself in the side of the barge. Knowledge-of-Pain cursed. The kappa, moving with startling speed, grabbed Lunae by the hand and pulled her down the rampart to the towpath. Other bolts were coming through the dark, hissing into the waters of the canal.

Something gave a mournful cry, rose from the depths, and sank once more. The kappa and Lunae sprang for the side of the barge and fell sprawling onto the deck. Then, keeping low, they made for the protection afforded by the other side of the cabin. No one was in sight.

"Who are they?" the kappa gasped. "Is that the hunt?"

"Knowledge-of-Pain said that they had no interest in us!"

"But Knowledge-of-Pain is of Memnos," the kappa muttered.

"She's been away for some time, evidently. I don't know what to think," Lunae said. A terrible squalling broke through the hissing darkness. Gripping the metal edging of the cabin, Lunae peered across the deck. The tow-beast was plunging at the end of its chain, causing the barge to rock up and down. A bolt stood out from a crack between the bone plates.

"The poor thing's been hit," the kappa said.

"What's happened to Knowledge-of-Pain? Do you think we should try and make a break for it?

Swim across the canal? Are they even shooting at us?" She paused. "I could take us through time—but I just don't know, kappa. What if this is my moment of failure?"

"I do not know. As for swimming, the warrior said that there are creatures in the canal," the kappa replied. "I might be successful, but you might not. There is nowhere else to go. We are trapped."

They could hear shouting, but could not distinguish the words. Lunae fretted, wondering whether she should take the risk and move them forward. Just an hour or so might be enough… But she thought of her future-self and the memory was enough to stop her. The barge continued to plunge, then the deck was doused in a sudden wave, drenching the kappa and Lunae. The prow of the barge veered sharply around, heading for the opposite bank of the canal.

"The tow-beast's gone in," Lunae cried, spitting bitter water.

From the bank came a cry of rage. Once more Lunae peered around the casing of the cabin, this time to see that they were already far from shore. The tow-beast was swim-ming as swiftly as an arrow, the chain stretched taut be-tween the boat and its throat. A figure sprinted along the towpath, armor rippling.

There was a hiss of arrows. Knowledge-of-Pain gave a sharp cry, but ran on.

The kappa threw herself to the boards and shuffled to the side of the boat.

"This is a war-arrow," she called back. "Only warriors use these bows. And the tow-beast is heading down-stream, toward the Memnos Tower."

Lunae stared at her in dismay. The barge sailed on, moving swiftly.

Soon even the running form of Knowledge-of-Pain was no more than a distant shadow on the bank.

The tow-beast arrowed through the oily waters of the canal like a fish, its lumbering land form forgotten.

Occasionally its sinuous spine broke the water, the long tail rippling in sea-serpent configuration.

"When will it stop?" the kappa asked at last, sitting disconsolately on the deck, with her back to the casing. "It has been swimming for more than two hours. Do you think it will ever stop? Or will it take us to the very pole?"

"Perhaps when it's light we'll be able to swim for it," Lunae said. She looked at the heaving black water and shuddered. "Maybe the creatures are nocturnal."

"Perhaps." The kappa sounded doubtful.

"The attackers will surely catch up to us at some point, too." Lunae stood, hastily. "It's heading for the bank."

The tow-beast was slowing as it changed direction, and now they could see that a lock was opening up ahead.

"It's taking us in," Lunae said. The Tower of Memnos clawed upward, filling the sky. Smoke drifted against the brightness of the stars. The tow-beast clambered out of the water in a bulky mass of bones, to stand shuddering upon the bank. The barge sank slowly down, stretching the chain. In the side of the Tower, a gate swung open and fig-ures poured forth.

"Lunae," the kappas voice was urgent. "We have to go."

Lunae nodded. They were now close enough to the sides of the lock to swing down over the side of the barge and cling to the rust-stained struts. Below, the barge sank, and then was gone through the lock gate. The tow-beast padded forward, where it was greeted with faint cries, like the voices of birds.

Lunae and the kappa gripped the struts and turned their faces to the wall.

"What if they see us?"

"They will have to come looking," the kappa said. The lock gate closed with a muffled clang. They were alone.

They waited until the sounds of voices had disap-peared, then clambered up the wall of the lock. A narrow ledge led up toward the Tower. There was no way back; the gates of the Tower were closed behind them. They were within the complex of Memnos.

Lunae and the kappa sidled around the edges of the Tower. Voices floated down from the slit windows, but outside, all was silent. They ran behind a towering pyra-mid of barrels, then through a storeroom and out into a courtyard, covered by the shadows cast by the Tower it-self. The kappa seized Lunae and drew her back behind the barrels, a hand over the girl's mouth. They watched as a squadron of excissieres came by, weapons at the ready. The women's faces were fierce and blank, wounds gliding over their skin. They looked like the walking slain. There were, perhaps, a dozen of them.

Lunae crouched down behind the barrels.

"We can't stay here. They'll find us. Maybe this was how I was captured."

The kappa gave her a little shake. "That was a different time line. Your future-self said so. What is to come, is not set in stone."

"Even so."

"Let's see what we can find."

They made their way around the perimeter of the courtyard, keeping to the shadows. More excissieres ran by: a pair, this time, wearing black armor. Their faces were set in a snarl.

"They all look so angry," Lunae whispered.

"Martians are always angry," the kappa replied. "All the time."

"I can hear something." Lunae stopped.

"What is it?"

There was an itching inside her mind, a prickle of El-dritch energy. Lunae shook her head, trying to clear it.

"Lunae? Are you all right?"

"Something's calling to me."

"What's the matter?"

"Look!"

There was a ghost standing before them. She could see the barrels through its body. It wore a familiar armor. Half of its face was missing.

"Embar Khair! The armor must be close by."

The ghost raised a mailed hand and beckoned, then drifted backward across the courtyard. Lunae and the kappa followed, around a corner into a great open space.

A ship rested on a landing pad, raised some distance from the Martian earth. From this distance, it looked like a scorpion, crouching above the red soil, tail curved above its spine, all dark glitter and menace. Lunae supposed that it could have been beautiful, but it was too ancient, too alien, for her to feel anything but afraid. The ghost of Em-bar Khair gestured:
come
.

Then the ship itself moved and the ghost began to fade. Lunae blinked and drew back. There was a creeping glide across the surface of the ship, as though the skin of the ship had begun to crawl. Lunae felt her own spine shiver in response. A single droplet, green and glistening, fell to the dusty earth. Lunae and the kappa backed away. The droplet elongated, became a writhing serpent that an-gled itself through the dust, so swiftly that she barely had time to dodge out of the way. The kappa cried out. And then the snake was upon Lunae, rising out of the dust, neck arched, eyeless and striking. She gave a muffled cry, but the snake struck her wrist as gently as a drop of rain. A moment later, her hand was coated in a jade glove. She looked down at a dissociated fragment of armor.

The hand pulled at her skin, gripping it, tugging. It was trying to draw her in the direction of the ship, and at first she resisted. But the hand reached out, raising Lunaes arm, the fingers pointed and quivering.

She took a reluc-tant step forward. The kappa tried to drag her back, but the pull of the ship was as strong as a magnet. The skin of the ship shivered, rippling like grass in the wind. Lunae took another step, led by the insistent hand. The tail of the ship sprang into life, hammering down into the earth like a pile-driver. Lunae dodged, ducked, tried to turn and run, but the hand exerted a magnetic pressure upon her, drawing her forward. Again the tail struck out, pounding down into the dirt.