The Infernal Lands (The Aionach Saga Book 1) (37 page)

“Tell me where she is,” said a man’s voice from within. The voice
was familiar, but Bastille couldn’t put a finger on where she knew it from.

“I won’t.” It was Sister Adeleine. “And I think you should
go.”

“We’re not going anywhere until we have her.”

Bastille’s heart danced in her chest. Her head began to
pound again. Someone had seen her in the scriptorium, no doubt.
Who could want
me? Another one of Soleil’s pets, coming to do his dirty work for him?
She
inched over and leaned around the door. Sister Adeleine was cornered. Three
brawny men in boots and gray-patterned fatigues were surrounding the acolyte,
pointing their big black guns at her. In their midst was a figure robed in
prosaics, tall and thin, with medium-blond hair that grew long around his ears
and neck. Though he was standing up straight, he leaned to the right.

Brother Mortial
, Bastille realized. She lost her
balance and put an instinctive hand on the door.

The hinges creaked.

The door swung open.

Brother Mortial and the soldiers turned around.

CHAPTER 33

Migration

Biyo was giving Eivan a stare that seemed likely to
bore a hole through him. “What exactly
happened
to you and Duffy today?”

Daxin and Biyo had steered the crowd away to let Ellicia tend
to Duffy. Then they’d pulled Eivan into a narrow alcove to question him.

“Got a big lizard,” Eivan said, chuckling to himself. He
flexed his lower lip to reveal a row of jagged bottom teeth.

Daxin rushed at him, slamming him against the rock wall.
“These folks might not lay a hand on you, but I’ll do more than that if you
don’t focus in and start answering some questions. Where did you and Duffy go
today? Where’d you find that sanddragon?”

Eivan’s breath reeked of years-fermented cheese, and feeling the
air on his neck made Daxin’s skin crawl. The man’s face screwed up at the sudden
shock, but he only gurgled. In that moment, he looked a lot less sapient than
Daxin had given him credit for. Aside from the wheezing breath passing in and
out through Eivan’s open mouth, he made no sound.

“Answer me. Or so help me, I will spill your guts and make
you watch the dragons eat them.”

Biyo looked as though he wanted to object, but he refrained.

When Eivan spoke, there was a spattering of warm spittle
across Daxin’s face. “I speared the lizard.”

Daxin wanted to haul back and hit him, but he’d gotten the
man talking, and that was worth more at the moment.

“We got the lizard before it got here,” Eivan said. “Bit
Duffy, then I bit it with my spear. Got a big rock and smashed its head.” Eivan
coughed, bathing Daxin’s face and neck.

Daxin shoved him against the wall and let go, swabbing
himself with his sleeve. “Where were you when this thing found you? Have you
dways been going out to the desert on your own? Meeting with someone? Giving
them information about us?” Daxin stopped himself short. It was the first time
he had used the word ‘us’ to describe himself in relation to the village. A
small detail, and one that Biyo likely hadn’t noticed in his flustered state.

“Not meetin’ with nobody,” Eivan said with a crooked smile.

Daxin was convinced Eivan was hiding something, and he was
set on finding out what it was. “He’s lying.”

“You think Eivan and Duffy are spying on us?” Biyo asked,
skeptical.

“Why is that so hard to believe? You don’t think Vantanible
could’ve sprinkled in a few sympathizers so he could keep tabs on you? The man
is cutthroat. He’s a complete control freak, and he’s capable of more—”

“Ellicia has been telling you a lot about her old friend the
mayor, has she?” Biyo interrupted.

It was then that Daxin remembered the way Ellicia’s voice had
moved, that tiny little bit of something he’d detected in her tone when she’d
mentioned Nichel. “As a matter of fact, she has. Why do you ask?”

“It just sounds like you’ve learned a few things about him,”
Biyo said. “Enough to give you a very poor opinion.”

“You’ve told me plenty about him yourself, if you recall,”
Daxin said. “He ruined all your lives because of some paranoid delusion. Do
you
have a good opinion of him?”

“Not at all… but see, I knew him,” Biyo said, giving him a
look.

Daxin gulped, hoping it wasn’t as loud as it sounded to him. It
was his own fault for letting his temper get the best of him, for forgetting
how important it was to keep certain things to himself. He was no informant for
Nichel Vantanible—that was to be sure. But Eivan certainly seemed to be
enjoying himself, brandishing his tangled yellows in that ghastly grin of his. Daxin
wondered how Biyo would react when he found out he’d been duped into housing
two of Vantanible’s spies.

For now, Biyo didn’t seem to want to press the issue further.
He turned back to Eivan. “Eivan, if you and Duffy have had contact with anyone
else, you tell me so, right now. We have to know, because unless you can
explain how you came across that thing, I’m gonna be forced to believe you and
Duffy went out into the desert. And since none of us have any business being
there—”

“They’re migratin’,” Eivan blurted. “Scared of the rains.
They’re comin’ in off the sands for shelter. Comin’ here.”

“What rains?” Biyo asked. He and Daxin looked at each other, both
realizing it at the same time. They left the alcove together.

“Has anybody been up top today? Besides Eivan or Duffy?”
Daxin asked.

No one said they had.

Biyo let Daxin go ahead of him as they climbed the slope to the
surface. The temperature change was almost too abrupt to believe; the cave had
been comfortable, but the surface was stifling.

Clouds. There they were, drab and brooding over the mountains
far to the north; a boiling mass of thunderheads swirling in upon itself as it
raced southward. The leaden dusk threw iron shadows, flattening the colors of
the landscape and blotting Infernal from view, like a faded orange stain on a
dappled gray carpet.

“Oh, coffing shit,” Biyo said when he’d taken in the skyline.
“Shit. We’re in for it, Luther. If the sanddragons don’t get here before the
storm, that thing’s gonna have its way with us.”

“Has it rained yet since you’ve been here?” Daxin asked,
feeling a twinge of worry.

“This will be the first time.”

Daxin sighed. “Okay, that’s terrible news.”

“Don’t be so optimistic.”

“Go inside and tell everyone to get
everything
off the
floor. Hang it up, tie it over the ledges, lash it to the columns, whatever.
The people who have the rooms highest off the ground will have to share. Get
everybody prepared to move upward as high as they can go. If the top levels
fill up, start filling the ones below that. Oh, remember to tell them they need
to find a way to haul their ladders up too. That dead wood’s going to rot real
quick if it floods in there.”

Biyo was incredulous. “If it floods? What do you mean
if
it floods
?”

“Biyo, those walls have seen their fair share of moisture. I
noticed how damp the air was the day I got here. I’m betting that pool down
there is part of some underground river. You know what happens to rivers when
it rains?”

“High Infernal. Should we maybe try to plug the hole in the
bottom of the pool?”

Daxin shook his head. “Waste of time. There’s nothing we have
that’s going to hold if the water rises. And before you suggest it, we can’t
race the storm through the Bones looking for other shelter. We’ll never win
that race, and there are too many people who’d slow us down. The cave is our
best hope, so we’ll have to stay and face what comes.”

“What about the sanddragons?”

Daxin knew better than to tell Biyo the plain truth about the
sanddragons. If he was going to be stuck in a cubbyhole above an underground
lake for who knew how long, he didn’t want to be there with thirty hysterical
villagers. “Thanks to the lizard Eivan and Duffy got, we should be eating well,
even if the rains last for days. If there are more of them, and I hope to high
Infernal there aren’t, then we’ll make sure we’re ready for them.”

“But Duffy’s leg. He’s been bitten… he’ll lure them right to
us.”

“We can’t just toss him outside, Biyo.” Never mind that Daxin
might’ve done just that if the decision were up to him. “But also remember that
if the cave floods, and more sanddragons do show up, they’ll have a hard time
reaching us.” Daxin couldn’t remember if he’d read about whether voranic
tarragons could swim. He thought he remembered the book saying they could, but
he decided to err on the side of calming Biyo’s nerves. “I don’t think they can
swim.”

“Ellicia wants to amputate,” Biyo said, ignoring Daxin’s
attempts to pacify him. “I think we should.”

“Whatever you say. You’re in charge.”

The look on Eivan’s face sobered. “Keep him alive. Yeah, do
it.”

“And then someone should take the leg,” Biyo said. “They
should carry it way out into the wastes and leave it somewhere.”

Daxin stopped himself from pointing out that even after the
amputation, there could be enough venom left in Duffy’s body for the tarragons
to trace it. “Agreed,” he said instead. “We’ll figure that out when the time
comes. Right now, we need to go below and tell everyone to get ready for the storm.”

They descended into the cave to find that the villagers had
moved Duffy to a more suitable spot for the operation. By the desolate look on Duffy’s
face, Daxin ascertained that Ellicia had just finished explaining what they
were about to do to him.

Ellicia looked up when Daxin crouched beside her. “I think he’s
ready.”

Eivan looked more nervous than Duffy, the man who was about
to be undergoing the actual torture. Eivan’s face was greasy with perspiration,
and he was no longer wearing that vacant, stupid grin. His sober gaze was set
on his friend, concern and worry written all over it. If either of them was
tired or thirsty from their jaunt in the Bones, they didn’t seem to notice at
the moment.

“Can we count on you to help us with this, Eivan?” Daxin
asked.

Eivan nodded without averting his stare.

“Good, then sit on his shoulder and hold his arm down.”

Biyo looked about as pale and sick as the other two.

Daxin clapped him on the shoulder, hoping it would snap him
out of it. “You gonna be okay?”

Biyo looked up, bewildered. “I dunno.”

“Well, do this, then. Sit on Duffy’s other shoulder, grab his
hand, and put your head between your knees. If you feel faint, close your eyes
and sit tight. This will all be over in a second.”

“It might take longer than that, actually,” Ellicia said. She
picked up the hacksaw that had been sitting on the ground behind her.

Daxin realized his part in this affair was going to be bigger
than he’d predicted. Then he noticed the crowd of villagers that had gathered around
them. “What are you all doing here? Didn’t Biyo tell you to get ready for the
storm? Everything needs to be up off the ground, unless you want to lose it.
Make friends with your upstairs neighbor, then move in and get cozy.”

Most of the villagers just stood there, staring at him.

“Go. Do it now.” Daxin got up and drew the machete from his
belt, waggling it at the crowd to disperse them.

Biyo was grimfaced. “You’re about to hack off someone’s leg
with a machete, and you expect people not to look?”

Daxin glanced up to see Schum and a few of the others
imitating the act of packing up their things, pretending not to watch. “Okay,
Schum. You want to see this? Then make yourself useful and bring me that stump
over there.”

Schum obliged, helping them prop up Duffy’s leg.

Daxin felt around below the knee until he found the place
where the kneecap ended and the shinbone began.

Ellicia frowned at the machete. “You’re not about to use
that
thing, are you? If so, you’re going to have to do it yourself, because I will not.”

“I’m not using the machete,” Daxin said, putting it away. “We
can’t cut the man down like a nest of brambles. I’m sure Duffy agrees with me,
don’t you buddy?”

Duffy gave him a pained nod, clenching his jaw so tight Daxin
could see the muscles in his face even below the thick tangle of beard.

“Fine,” Ellicia said. She took a deep breath, half
apprehension and half preparation.

Daxin wiped the sweat out of his eyes. “Do you have anything
for him to bite down on?”

“Here.” Ellicia produced a curl of hard leather and pressed
it into Duffy’s mouth. He bit down, his head bobbing appreciatively.

“We’re going to make this happen as quickly as we can for
you,” Daxin told him.

Duffy looked sicker still, but he nodded.

Daxin gave his crew a visual check. Eivan and Biyo were
sitting on Duffy’s shoulders, his hands in theirs. Biyo was tucked into the
fetal position, his eyes clenched shut and his head resting on his knees.

Daxin looked at Ellicia. “We need to do this in tandem. You
ever cut down a tree with a two-person saw?”

“No.”

Daxin shrugged. “Now’s a good time to learn. You take one
side, I’ll take the other. Toward me first. Everyone ready?”

When Daxin touched the cold steel of the hacksaw blade to
Duffy’s leg, Duffy twitched and started breathing faster. Daxin imagined himself
doing it, dragging the blade in and biting through the leg in a few thorough
strokes. It would take more than a few, he knew. Duffy was in for the worst
pain of his life, but it was the only thing that would free him from the toxin
that flowed in his veins. It was the only thing that would free the people of
Dryhollow Split from the threat of the voranic tarragons who might be on their
way toward them even now. The crowd had gathered again, but Daxin didn’t try to
separate them this time. He was too focused on the task at hand. He gave
Ellicia one final look before he gripped the saw handle and pulled.

The shadows of the dead trees were swaying in the wind as
Daxin spurred his mare toward the oncoming storm, cracked ground collapsing
beneath her hooves. Lightning strobed in the graying gloom, crackling white
trails with coronas of purple and blue and orange. A stained canvas sack bounced
from the back of the saddle, darkening the mare’s chestnut coat. The horizon
came and went, and when the thunder was so loud it felt like an earthquake in Daxin’s
chest, he found a sturdy tree and fastened the bag to a low-hanging branch.
That
should slow them down, a little. Maybe
. He hadn’t told the villagers that
the sanddragons could swim, and he wouldn’t tell them that they could climb,
either. The canvas sack began to drip red. The parched earth drank the moisture
and left pink blotches behind.

Performing a hopping dismount onto his good foot, Daxin
doused his mare’s flank with one of his waterskins and scrubbed her with a rag
to remove the tainted blood. Then he tossed the bloody rag away and made for
the cave with the storm coming in hard on his heels. There was more to this
storm, more to the sanddragons, than the danger alone. He could handle a little
rain. They might even be able to kill a few lizards, if it came to that. It was
being detained from what he had to do that distressed Daxin the most. He
thought of a time not too long ago, when he might’ve been able to change the
course of events that had brought things to the way they were now.