Dragons on the Sea of Night (36 page)

But Moichi shook his head. ‘This is wrong. I knew it from the beginning.' He sheathed his dirk, began kicking chunks of ice back into the grave they had been digging.

What are you doing?

‘
When I die
,' Hamaan had said, ‘
other predators will know and they will feed off my corpse. That is the way of it; the way I wish it
.'

He told her what Hamaan had said. ‘Leave him here, back away now.'

When they were five hundred yards away, the Wolke'en began to circle in. It was wasting no time, Moichi saw. Perhaps the severe cold had made food scarce, or perhaps it recognized a fellow predator.

‘He had a warrior's death,' Moichi said, his eyes on the Wolke'en. ‘Now he will have a warrior's interment.' The Wolke'en, one eye on them, tore into the corpse. ‘His last remains provide sustenance for another warrior.'

The ceremony – for such, Moichi realized later, it was – was over in an astonishingly short time. As Sardonyx had said, the Wolke'en was a prodigiously efficient killing machine. Just as Hamaan had been.

They returned to the site of the continuing celebration in a sober frame of mind. ‘It is done,' Moichi said solemnly to the Dai-San and Chiisai. He looked at them. Considering they were such strange creatures he felt peculiarly comfortable with the Kaer'n. Chiisai, returning his gaze, knew his thoughts; knew, also, why the Kaer'n should be so familiar to him. As the Dai-San had told her, he and Moichi were inextricably linked, one the extension of the other.
I have the power to do more than the Kaer'n; and Moichi has more power to enact change than do I
. Perhaps somewhere deep in his unconscious Moichi understood this. If not, she was not the one to tell him.

The Dai-San, divining Moichi's mood, gestured toward the summit. ‘Come with me,' he said.

Together, they climbed the steep snowy face, crunching, now and again, on the remnants of the Chaos horde. Moichi felt his mind clear. It was good to be with his bond-brother. After so many cataclysmic changes there was particular comfort in this old friendship.

‘Who are they,' he said after a time, ‘these Kaer'n?'

They had reached a stout rock lip that overhung the entire face of the Mountain Sin'hai. Through a brief break in the clouds he could glimpse the high walls of Mas'jahan and, beyond, the Mu'ad. Somewhere in that vastness men were preparing to go to battle and he knew that in order to stop them he could not long tarry in Sin'hai. In a swirl of snow, the scene was completely obliterated.

The Dai-San considered before speaking. ‘It is right that you know their secret, Moichi. The Kaer'n were born millennia ago as part of a secret experiment. After the Shinju mages of mankind sealed Chaos away on the other side of this Portal they discovered, to their dismay, that certain elements of Chaos had remained. They tried in every fanatic way to purge these few elements from the world of man
-
to no avail. These elements belonged here and here they would stay despite all the sorcery then at mankind's command.'

The Dai-San put his gauntleted hand out to touch the sealed Portal which glimmered and glistened like sunlight on ice. ‘So these mages began experimenting with the Chaos elements to see if there was some use for them, after all, in the world of man. The Kaer'n were the first result. They thought them crude and so frightening they tried to kill them off. When this did not work, they altered the Kaer'n, made sure that they were all males. With no females, they could not reproduce; therefore, eventually – though no one knew the lifespan of a Kaer'n – they would die out.'

He banged on the Portal with his mailed fist and a dull throbbing echoed through the formations of the summit. For a moment, the Kaer'n ceased their ecstatic dance. Then they resumed it as if nothing untoward had happened.

‘Fear makes men foolish because it impedes thought,' the Dai-San continued. ‘And so it was with the Shinju mages. They never bothered to understand the true nature of their creation, they never knew that they were meant to manipulate the elements of Chaos just as they had, that they were meant to create the Kaer'n – the guardians of the balance between mankind and Chaos.'

He looked at Moichi. ‘Now, two female Kaer'n have been created in the cauldron of karma and Chaos. Now Chiisai and Sanda may – if they so choose – go on to found a dynasty of Kaer'n for the future.'

He lapsed into an uncharacteristic, contemplative silence. Above them the Kaer'n still swooped and called to one another. And still the silence of the place overarched everything. Snow filtered down, blowing into their faces every so often, borne on gusts of wind.

Moichi took a step toward the Dai-San. ‘What is it, my friend?'

The Sunset Warrior did not answer for a long time. ‘The irony is that I love her, Moichi. I would have made Chiisai my bride.' He swiveled his head, impaling Moichi with his formidable gaze. ‘No one –
no one
– knows this secret.'

‘Even Chiisai?' Moichi said softly.

The Dai-San's eyes picked out the Kaer'n among all the others. ‘Especially her.'

‘Perhaps that is a mistake.'

Still following her flight, the Dai-San shrugged. ‘Mayhap it is.'

Moichi, so close to the Dai-San after so long a time, suddenly realized how isolated he must be from everyone and everything, and he was overcome by a sense of melancholy. Even the one woman his bond-brother loved was unavailable to him. What could life be like for him? This was not a question he had ever thought to ask and, frankly, now that he had he could see that it did not bear scrutiny. Any one often thousand answers was equally painful. In that moment, he felt closer to the Dai-San than he ever had before, certain that their bond was more profound than even he could know.

Slowly, as he came back to himself, he took time to turn something over in his mind. ‘Down below in Syrinx, Bjork, Miira's child, told me that all Shinju had within them some Chaos.'

‘It is true.' The Dai-San came out of his reverie. ‘But the Shinju were fatally flawed, and in some ways weak. They were tied to Chaos in a singular way through White Lotus. They could not be trusted with such guardianship.'

‘Then who – or what – caused the elements of Chaos to be left behind? The way you speak of this history makes it sound as if there was a master plan in place.'

‘Yes. It does appear so.'

Moichi looked around the summit. ‘My people believe that this is the House of the Holy, Dai-San. The Catechists, as well. They say Zarathus, their living God, walks these slopes.'

‘And, in a way, he does,' the Dai-San said. ‘Just as he sometimes walks the streets of Mas'jahan.' He smiled at Moichi. ‘Did not Bjork tell you she roams the face of the Mountain Sin'hai? She is sometimes lonely for the company of man. Sometimes she wraps herself in her mother's cloak and does the same in the citadel of the Catechists.'

Moichi was aghast. ‘Bjork is their god?'

‘If the Catechists see Bjork as such then it must be so.'

This sent a sudden chill through him. ‘What of my God, Dai-San? The God of the Iskamen?'

The Dai-San looked out over Sin'hai. ‘As you say, my friend, something – or someone – created the master plan.' He put his hand on Moichi's shoulder. ‘Many men have spent their entire lives searching for God. Perhaps it is not an apt occupation.'

‘For a human, you mean.'

‘For anyone.'

EPILOGUE

O
N THE
S
EA OF
N
IGHT

He awoke to the sound of the scream
. It was a mortal scream and he leaped up with his dirk already drawn. Beside him, Sardonyx, deeper in sleep, was rolling over.

He had been dreaming of his last moments on the summit of the Mountain Sin'hai. Night had come down with the abruptness usual at such altitudes. He and Sardonyx were gazing skyward at a galaxy of new stars – the Kaer'n as they began their long journey back to Ama-no-mori. They had no wish to overstay in the land of the Shinju, and since the Portals had been sealed they were obliged to fly halfway across the world. Moichi raised his arm in salute to them, and in a more private salutation to the Dai-San, who rode upon Chiisai's broad back. Who knew when they would see one another again, such close friends whose karma kept them so much apart?

The galleon moon, riding high in the sky, was eclipsed by the fleet of Kaer'n as they rose as one and, wheeling playfully across the heavens, began their flight homeward. It was a magnificent sight, one Moichi would not soon forget, and he promised himself that before his time in the world of man was over he would visit Ama-no-mori.

Beside them, Sanda stirred. She had stayed behind to transport them back to Syrinx where Bjork and Ouwlmy were no doubt anxiously awaiting them.

She nuzzled his side.
Time to go. The temperature is dropping precipitously
.

She lowered her head and Moichi swung onto her. Sardonyx followed suit, seating herself in front of him but, as comfortable as he was astride the Kaer'n she was ill at ease. He put his arms around her waist in silent reassurance.

Upon Sanda's back they rose into the night skies, through the storm clouds, the gusts of snow and ice pellets, until the moon broke through. Away to the east they could see the fleet of Kaer'n, tiny now, glittering with pale and ghostly moonlight, like stars themselves. And then, as Sanda banked steeply, the sensation of falling, falling …

Into the mortal scream.

Moichi was up and running across the embankment on which they had made their bed. They were within Bjork's cathedral-like tree-castle on the inner edge of the Khashm. All about him loomed the enormous arboretum that Bjork had made into a singular home. But now, the spectral network of branches had taken on a sinister aspect, catching the scream and bouncing it back upon itself. It was a scream of pain and, more, of mortal fear.

Moichi felt rather than heard someone running behind him. Sardonyx? There was no time to look back and see, but his mind was unaccountably filled with her. She had seemed peculiarly cool to Sanda, and again her unease astride the Kaer'n played in his mind like a scene stuck in time. For her part, Sanda, loving Sanda, whom he had not seen for so long had flatly refused his invitation to stay with him a while in Syrinx. Perhaps it was not so surprising; no Kaer'n cared to tarry in that land where they had been created, misunderstood and abused by the Shinju mages. Still, she was his sister and he longed to spend time with her, to get to know her all over again. But he had a certain duty to his country, and they both knew that if the war Hamaan and the other Qa'tachs had so cleverly sought was to be avoided he would have to return to the Mu'ad with all due haste. Revealing the Fe'edjinn plot to the Iskamen populace was paramount, and Moichi knew he was the only one to do it.

The mortal scream resounded again through the latticework of branches. Moichi sped onward, through the flickering moon-shadows, through odd patches of cold blue light.

Several times before they had made ready for sleep, he had obliquely asked Sardonyx why she had been so cold to Sanda but she had given him no good reply – no reply at all, really. Finally, he had shrugged and given it up. If she did not wish to speak of it he could not make her tell him. But, at dinner, he noticed all of them – Sardonyx, Bjork and Ouwlmy – were uncharacteristically unresponsive. This was not the scene of triumphal return he had imagined as he had flown down the Mountain Sin'hai on Sanda.

Amid the chiaroscuro landscape, he could see figures struggling. The high scream came again and now, this close, he recognized the voice – Ouwlmy!

Something huge and menacing gripped the Shakra by the throat, and as Moichi raced across the last of the terrain he could see that it was prying open Ouwlmy's jaws. She was fighting as hard as she could, using her hooves and her powerful flanks, but the being that held her fast was obviously far stronger. In a silent rage, it shook her, making her teeth rattle. Then, as Moichi looked on, horrified, it reached between her open jaws and slowly extracted her tongue until it was stretched to its full length.

God of my fathers, Moichi thought, it's the tongueless Makkon, seeking revenge. He drew both dirks as he raced toward the Makkon, knowing full well that here he had no chance against a Chaos beast. On the opposite side of the clearing, he saw a figure step out of the shadows.

‘Bjork,' he cried, ‘the Makkon you maimed is about to cut out Ouwlmy's tongue!'

To his astonishment, Bjork did nothing, merely stood still, staring out across the clearing, past the antagonists.

‘Bjork, are you deaf or mad?' Moichi shouted, rage boiling in him. ‘You have the power to stop the Makkon! Why don't you? Would you sacrifice Ouwlmy? For what? Chill take you, answer me!'

The Makkon, enjoying the terror it saw in the Shakra's eyes, continued to play with the tongue, pulling it, tugging at it, at length clamping it between two talons.

Dear God, Moichi thought. He ran the remaining distance, swung one weapon at the Makkon. Almost casually, it sideswiped him with the back of its six-fingered hand, and he went sprawling head over heels.

When he came up, he saw what Bjork was staring at. Behind where he had emerged, Sardonyx was advancing across the greensward.

At last, Bjork broke her silence. ‘You know what you must do.' Sardonyx said nothing. ‘Precious Ouwlmy will die unless you act.' Still, Sardonyx came on, passing Moichi, heading toward Ouwlmy and the Makkon. ‘I don't have to remind you of what Ouwlmy has done for you. She was your firmest advocate even while I was unsure whether or not to train you.' Sardonyx seemed in a trance, as if the scene playing out before them, combined with Bjork's words, had cast a spell over her. ‘Act now or she
will
die.'

Now, not more than three feet from the Makkon, Sardonyx came to a halt. She looked back over her shoulder at Moichi but when she spoke he knew it was not to him but to Bjork. ‘I prayed this moment would never come. It is the one nightmare that has haunted me from the moment you began the initiation.'