Lady of the Star Wind (40 page)

They walked through the featureless landscape for what his instincts told him was a long time, yet Mark didn’t become tired or thirsty, and Sandy said she felt fine as well. Mark kept to the center of the road, which was about ten feet wide. Occasionally, he heard howling coming from quite a distance.

“I think I see something ahead,” he said.

Moments later, he walked into a half circle of arching stones, Sandy right behind him. The stones were plain, uncarved, unadorned in any way, rooted deep in the black sand. A few had fallen and lay broken. Three causeways stretched away into the darkness as far as the eye could see. Each was lined on both sides by ancient, weathered statues, worn despite the utter lack of wind or moisture. Mark left Sandy standing in the middle of the paved crescent, while he walked the perimeter, staring out into each causeway, one after the other. The statues were different for each path. The one in the middle running straight toward the horizon featured vaguely feline beasts sitting on the plinths with plumed tails curled over their heavily clawed feet. The choice to the left featured only crumbling stones atop the plinths, representations of something or someone eons ago. Winged and bearded beasts guarded the third road, reminding Mark of deer, entwined antlers flashing some gilt here and there. Their dead, painted eyes stared at him in the gloom.

“Which one do we take? Any ideas?” Mark was stymied. “I doubt we have the luxury of making a mistake and then retracing our steps.”

“I’m tiring of tests.” Sandy joined him, staring at the dark ranks of statues lining the road. “Not the deer.”
 

Pointing to the next road, he asked, “Cats?”

“I don’t know.” She took the mirror out of its pouch for a quick peek. “No help there. Blank as usual.” She strode to the edge of the platform and took a step out onto the causeway of the feline beasts, then retreated to the neutral space of the crescent. “No. This road doesn’t feel as wrong to me as the road with the horned creatures did, but it doesn’t call to me either.”

“But this other row is falling to pieces, crumbling under their own weight.” He gestured at the remaining road. “We can’t even tell what these statues used to represent.”

“I know, but I think it’s where we have to go.” Sandy replaced the mirror in its embroidered bag. “I can’t explain why, but I’m drawn to this road, repelled by the deer, and I got nothing at all when I stepped out toward the felines.”

Much as it bothered him to rely on hunches in this uncanny situation, he realized he had nothing better to offer. “Well, then, let’s move out.”

Hand in hand, they hiked onward at a steady pace. Some of the statues or monuments were less dilapidated than others, but none was even close to being recognizable. Here and there a gap in the sequence appeared, as if the stones had gone to dust. Uneasy, Mark checked the roadway behind them often. “I think we’re being followed.”

“By what?” She glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t see anything.”

“It’s like a flicker in my peripheral vision, as if whatever is on our trail ducks behind the statues or burrows into the sand when I check our six.” He rolled his shoulders.

“And you wish for your blaster,” she teased. “Even in a dream.”

“Nightmare’s more like it. Listen, we can’t take chances here. When I fought for you back on Throne, the slash from the force knife was real.”

“People don’t die in dreams,” she said.

“I’m not so sure about that anymore, especially in a dream like the one we’re sharing. I think the stakes are high.”

A few moments later, Sandy said, “Do you hear something? Like running water?”

He paused for a second. “Yeah, I do.”

Mark broke into a run, tugging Sandy to force her to keep up, and in a moment more, they came to the broken end of their causeway. The road fell away, crumbled chunks of pavement and statues strewn down a gentle slope and into a sluggish river. The water eddied past the boulders with crystalline murmuring.

“Shallow, I hope, or we’ll be swimming.” He didn’t relish the idea.

But when Mark descended the slope carefully, afraid of sliding in the loose black sand, he discovered the river was shallow, maybe six inches at the most. Beautiful golden fish darted here and there in the crystal clear water, weaving amongst water lilies and reeds.
 

Mark braced Sandy as she bent to remove her sandals and waded in, then followed her example, pushing against the slight tug of the current against his lower legs. The fish took no heed of them, other than to avoid direct contact.

“So refreshing.” Sandy leaned over, cupping her hands, intending to drink.
 

“Watch out!” Mark tried to catch the mirror as it fell from the pouch at her belt, but he wasn’t quick enough. The mirror plunged into the river, drifting until it became half buried in the sparkling sands. Little fish swarmed, drawn to the glint.

“How did that happen?” Sandy asked, bathing her face with the cool water.

“Maybe the latch broke—” Mark found it odd the pouch at her belt had opened so easily, the loop slipping from the ornate lapis bead securing the precious contents. He found he couldn’t remove the mirror from the water, as if the sands had taken on the consistency of cement, holding the relic in place.
 

Sandy waded through the shallows to stand next to him. “Let me try.” Reaching below the surface with both hands, she got a firm grasp on the three-dimensional handle and yanked. The sands released the mirror so willingly she fell backward and would have landed in the water herself if Mark hadn’t caught her.

“Look!” Sandy held the artifact away from her as he set her securely on her feet.

Unearthly light poured from the mirror. As Mark watched, a golden shimmer started at the bottom of the handle, flowing up and over the tiny figures of the two goddesses and the warrior, then splaying onto the surface of the mirror itself. Water droplets rained from the mirror like beads of molten gold, pattering on the river’s glassy surface. Sandy stared into the oval, which had never reflected anything before. Mark bent over her shoulder.

The gleaming surface reflected their faces, as a mirror should.
 

“We must be on the right path, then,” he said. “Come on, let’s get out of this water before we catch a cold. We need to get to the other side and figure out where we have to go next. I’m hoping the road continues.”

“Do you think this is the end of the journey?” Sandy went with him, stumbling a bit on the pebbles at the river’s edge since her attention was on the mirror, still gleaming but blank now. “What are we supposed to do next? Where are we supposed to go?”

“Don’t give up on me now. We’ve come this far.” He pulled her the last few feet onto the bank to stand next to him on the crest.

She bent to refasten her sandals. Gazing above her head, he checked the opposite bank.

Watching them from across the river, as silent and unmoving as the ancient statues, was a huge, reptilian creature easily twelve feet long, with half the body being a spiked tail. Its toes splayed over the sand in a way that suggested to Mark that the animal could cover the shifting surface rapidly. Raising its blunt-nosed head, the animal opened massive jaws, drooling blood-tinged saliva, flicking a long, vivid green forked tongue as if tasting the air. Rising on its stubby front legs, the creature took a deep breath and gave voice to a howling cry.
 

Sandy retreated a step. “
Tzerde
, how horrible. Is that what’s been tracking us?”

“I think so.”

The creature turned its head in their direction, hissing. As he watched, the beast flickered in his vision until he couldn’t see it at all for a heart-stopping moment. “It must have some powers of camouflage, like a chameleon,” he said. “A formidable foe.”

Three more of the animals crested the hill, stopping where the first beast had been lingering. It came back into view, the camouflage fading from its body in ripples of color from head to the tail. The newcomers were slightly smaller, but Mark estimated each must weigh well over a hundred pounds. The leader snapped at one approaching too close, sinking its jagged teeth into the shoulder of the encroaching beast and ripping away a generous portion of flesh and muscle, which it spat out as the other beast cringed and screamed.

Hand to her mouth, Sandy retched. “Attracted by the power of the mirror maybe?”

“I’m not waiting around to find out.” Mark grabbed her hand and fled. “This is our best chance, while the hunters are distracted.”

Risking a glance over his shoulder, he saw the pack slinking down the slope to the river, growling. The original four had been reinforced by three more.

“They’re coming. Once those beasts get onto the road, I’ve no idea how fast they can move, but if one manages to pull us down, we’re done for.”

He and Sandy sprinted, checking periodically over their shoulders to assess the animals’ progress. He was dismayed to see how fast the predators moved on the road. Their camouflage flickered on and off, as if the creatures were challenged to match the deep blackness of the road. This was an advantage for Mark, allowing him to see where the pack moved. The leader gained on the humans, his followers close behind.

A few moments later, they passed a series of tall columns painted with colorful symbols, rising into the mists of the eternal night here. Interspersed with the columns were obelisks, also decorated with incised writing. Mark found it made him dizzy to try to peer too closely at any of the symbols. Gazing upward into the mists induced serious vertigo. “Maybe we’re getting somewhere,” Mark said. “Maybe we can get some help.”

A few more rapid paces through the forest of columns and obelisks took them to the foot of a wall looming out of the dark. Light blazed to the skies on the other side of the obstacle. Mark estimated the wall was a good thirty feet high. The huge white limestone blocks resting on the black sands stretched in either direction as far as the eye could see. Spaced at fifty-foot intervals were gigantic statues of crowned figures seated on huge thrones.

“I don’t see a gate—which way should we try first?” he asked.

Sandy held up the mirror, which emitted beams of diffuse light as she pointed it to the west. The illumination diminished as she moved it away from the original heading. “This way.”

A few moments later, they came to a massive gate. A trio of huge snakes lay coiled in the sands in front of the portal. Their scales were a patchwork of gold, ruby, and emerald, and their eyes were like embers in the twilight. One reared on its coils, taller than a man stands, hood flared, hissing an unmistakable challenge as Mark ventured closer. The snake’s weaving tongue was a needle of fire in the gloom.

“Now what?” Mark asked Sandy. “Any suggestions? We can’t fight our way past those monsters.”

Sandy took a step closer to the reptiles, avoiding Mark’s outstretched hand. The largest serpent watched her, unblinking but swaying on its massive coils. Despite the vast difference in size, something about this creature’s eyes reminded her of Sherabti.

“What the hell are you doing?” Clearly, Mark wasn’t happy to see her move into the outsized reptile’s strike zone.

She checked over her shoulder to find that their unearthly pursuers slowed and stopped, yellow tongues flickering. A smaller animal broke ranks, bloody saliva dripping from its triangular fangs. The stench of the creature’s breath as it huffed a challenge was overpowering. One of the snakes lunged forward, biting off the animal’s head. Thick red blood oozed like lava from the carcass.
 

A midsize pack member locked its jaw on the corpse’s tail and dragged the body into the sands, where several of the lizards proceeded to fight over the prize. The alpha threw back its head, bellowing a challenge or a command to its disobedient minions. The pack ripped the carcass apart before slinking away into the desert, while the snakes watched with glittering eyes.

“This is costing us precious time. We have a right to be here, and we both carry Sherabti’s venom in our veins, which should buy us something,” Sandy said, returning her attention to the guardian in front of her. Impatience at the new obstacle pricked her nerves. She wondered if there was a time limit on this quest.

All three snakes became agitated when she mentioned the name of the ancestral goddess’s serpent. The other two reared up, forked tongues hissing in and out of cruel fangs, hoods flaring wide. Sandy realized the snakes had retreated a few feet. Princess Sharesi’s words about names having power came back to her. Moving carefully, she fumbled with the lapis bead holding the mirror’s pouch shut and withdrew the artifact, startled for a moment by the intense golden radiance it gave off. Raising the mirror in her left hand, above her head, she said, “I bid you stand aside, in the name of Nuet.” The syllables echoed against the walls, like muted thunder. Sandy took a step forward. The snakes retreated, hissing in jets of blue and yellow flame. She aimed the light from the mirror at first one and then another as she advanced, driving them into a slow, sinuous retreat. Hearing footfalls in the sand, she knew Mark walked at her back.
 

She’d gained maybe ten paces of progress when the largest serpent slithered forward, lowering its head to stare into her eyes, tongue flicking in and out. Unblinking, the snake shifted an inch at a time, winding its heavy coils loosely around her body. She heard Mark shout her name as she staggered under the weight but waved him off when he tried to help. The snake’s red tongue rasped against Sandy’s cheek. She flinched, expecting pain. Relieved to feel nothing but a tickling sensation, she kept herself unmoving, not even breathing for the moment the caress lasted. Hissing, the snake rose high into the misty air of the place above her head before uncoiling and slithering into a crevice in the mighty wall. The other serpents followed suit, gone from view in the blink of an eye despite their massive girth.