The Last of the Ageless (13 page)

Passing the ravine’s ledge, he unfurled his wings just in time to break his fall. His talons briefly touched the dusty earth before he shed his feathers. Knowing Nyr could show up any moment, Dalan suffered through a faster transmeld than usual. As soon as his teeth popped through his jawbone, he gritted them together to keep himself silent.

Determined to see if it had any give at all, Dalan placed his hands on the side of the rock, leaned in, and pushed. It wobbled, and the alien let out an all-too-human shriek of pain. Its face tilted toward him, but its deep blue eyes revealed no surprise at his sudden appearance.

He stepped aside and raised his hands to show he didn’t carry a weapon. He thought of what to say before slowly speaking, “I will figure out a way to get you out of there. Am here to help.”

The creature raised an arm, calling Dalan’s attention to the eye-sized, blue circles blemishing the insides of its limbs, including its backward knees. The fleshy, raised edges of the circles seemed sickly in comparison to the rest of its silver skin.

Besides its gesture, the alien made no other attempt to communicate. Dalan wasn’t sure if it understood, but he had to try to help.

Dalan pulled the strap over his shoulder and opened his pack. Digging past his dwindling supply of food, he located the rope coiled at the bottom and pulled it out.

After wrapping the rope around the rock, Dalan secured it with a knot and tied a big loop in the other end. He hid himself from the Joey on the other side of the boulder and transmelded toward the only beast he possessed with enough bulk to move the huge rock.

Saquey alighted on the boulder, its wings twitching once, twice, as if in encouragement. Then it flitted to the ravine floor, its head tilted up to take in the sight of the Joey. Dalan smiled until the transmeld shifted the bones in his face. Saquey had chosen the color silver from Dalan’s offerings before they bonded; no doubt the alien’s beautiful silver skin had attracted Saquey’s attention.

Dalan’s bones lengthened to support his new musculature. He moaned, and his voice distorted into something half-human, half-animal. Saquey returned to the boulder, watching over him as he fell face-first into the sand.

Dalan’s clothing and other possessions pressed flat against his skin before being absorbed. Short, golden fur rose from his flesh, and his spine stretched into a muscular, prehensile tail. As his head fell forward, he saw three-toed hooves push from the end of his forelegs. Despite taking several minutes, he’d completed the meld in record time.

Dalan stood on four legs as the tail-horse, whose thoughts distracted him much less than the hawk’s. The tail-horse simply noted the absence of grass to graze on before Dalan pushed that part of his mind down. He was his people’s first keeper of the tail-horse, a now-extinct mutation of horse that had originally appeared after the Catastrophe and had been subsequently outbred by its unmutated, Purebreed cousins.

Looking over his shoulder, Dalan reached with his prehensile tail to pick up the rope behind him. Thicker than an elephant’s trunk, his furry tail stretched to half again the length of his body; unfortunately, Dalan wasn’t skilled in using it. The blunt tip of his tail gracelessly slapped the ground a few times before poking through the loop in the rope. With some maneuvering, he pulled the loop over his head, past his long neck, and around his barrel chest.

Taking a few steps forward, Dalan pulled the rope tight. He tried to take another step, but the tension in the rope resisted his attempt. Bending his knees, he braced against the ground and leaned into it. The boulder refused to move.

If he’d been in his birth form, Dalan would have whispered a prayer to the All-Seeing Eye that his actions wouldn’t injure the Joey further. Backing up to gain a little slack, he reared up on his hind legs, using his tail to steady himself. Then he pushed off the ground with his tail, charging forward. The sound of stone grinding on stone rewarded him.

The alien screamed.

Dalan didn’t turn back, for fear of what he’d see. Unbidden, a vision from Saquey formed in his mind’s eye. Rolled onto his back, the Joey clutched his tail in both hands, his blue lips open in pain. Red blood oozed from the wound.

Had Dalan not learned about the Joeys in his studies, he might have mistaken the humanoid figure for a silver-skinned Changeling. Blue circles also covered the underside of the creature’s tail, which looked none the worse for wear. Dalan breathed a sigh of thanks, which came out as a snort.

Then Saquey’s vision rotated, revealing a figure standing in the middle of the ravine. Nyr.

Dalan slipped toward birth form as quickly as possible. The extra vertebrae in his tail stacked into his spine. When his knees switched back, he collapsed to the ground.

His world narrowed into pure agony as he transmelded faster than ever before.

When the pain ended, Dalan shook his head to clear away Saquey’s vision. He needed water badly after two full transmelds. He stood, fighting dizziness, and stepped from behind the boulder, ignoring the tremors of exhaustion in his legs.

He planted himself between her and the Joey. “Leave him alone, Nyr.”

Nyr crossed her arms, staring at him. Her red hair fell behind her shoulder as she raised her eyes to the lip of the ravine. “You got here quicker than I expected.”

Dalan raised his chin. “I stand in defense of life.” His mouth felt dry and sticky, so he kept it short.

Watching her closely, Dalan waited for the tale-tell signs of her transition to cat form, but none came. The Teachings justified killing in only two cases, and as for who could carry out vengeance against Nyr, Dalan didn’t qualify. He wasn’t a blood relative or tribemate of those men—he could do nothing for them now. But he could save the Joey’s life, and if that meant taking her down…

Nyr’s slitted eyes wandered down to the Joey, who lay prostrate at Dalan’s feet. “I’d say you owe this one, Joey. If I’d gotten here first, you’d be joining your ancestors in the afterlife right about now.”

Dalan sucked in a deep breath, though he wondered if the Joey could understand their language.

Nyr dug into one of the numerous pouches at her hip. She pulled out a long black cord and raised her hand high. Another purple necklace like the one she had given Dalan dangled from the cord.

“Don’t worry,” she said, in a smooth voice he didn’t trust at all. “Now that your newfound pet here is unstuck, I thought we could celebrate…”

She closed the distance, but Dalan blocked her path.

“What’s going on with these necklaces, Nyr? Why give them to us?” He hated himself for his naïveté, never questioning her motivations in giving him the necklace until now. Saquey’s wings buzzed; it hadn’t left its position on the rock.

“Believe it or not, you Purebred fool, they’re powerful trinkets. The amulet creates a shield across your chest to protect itself from harm, which is no doubt what saved your life the other night. Would you deny your dear Joey the same protection?”

Before he could stop her, Nyr bent down and slipped the necklace over the Joey’s head. It blazed pink before the light coalesced into four dots within its stony surface. The Joey jerked in surprise. When he tried to remove the necklace, it refused to go up any higher than his chin.

Fear bloomed in Dalan’s chest as he grasped his own trinket and yanked it upward. He met with the same failure. Though the necklace had slipped on easily enough, the loop had tightened, now smaller than the diameter of his head. Saquey buzzed in a tight circle around him, as distressed as Dalan.

The alien reached into his vest and took out a small knife. He gripped the handle in a fist as he tried to saw through the thong just above the pendant.

No need to panic,
the voice spoke up. Though but a whisper in his mind, the voice had a masculine quality to it.

Dalan snapped, “Of course there is! She’s marked us as slaves!”

Dalan’s outburst made the Joey jump, his deep blue eyes staring up at him. Saquey hovered nearby.

Nyr lifted her chin. “It’s not
my
mark. Is it my voice you hear when the amulet speaks?”

Dalan rocked back on his heels, staring at her. She associated the voice with the necklace? He examined the pendant again. Four glowing pink orbs hung inside. What kind of magical artifact was this?

“No,” he answered slowly. “Is not your voice.” He took a step toward her and felt a tingle of satisfaction when she took a suspicious step back. “Talked to thin air that first day. Thought you were cracked.”

He whipped his hand toward her throat.

Predictably, she blocked and shifted, her fur growing in rapidly. But he’d seen what he needed to—underneath the layers of trophies she wore around her neck glowed a familiar necklace. Saquey zipped upward, above the upper edge of the ravine, away from them all.

Nyr glared at him, fully melded—or as fully as her people ever came. “What—?”

Dalan smiled. She wasn’t controlling the necklace after all. “Looks like you’re just as bound as we are.” His smile faltered when he realized the mystery remained.

His tribemates could communicate mentally, but only while transmelded. Though unlikely, someone in birth form might catch a directed thought if they opened themselves enough, but Dalan wasn’t transmelded, nor had he been open to this intrusion.

Nyr’s expression faded into exasperated annoyance. “I’m no one’s slave, if that’s what you mean.”

“Good to know we’re not yours.” Dalan couldn’t stand it any longer. He grabbed one of the canteens and took a long swig. Warm water filled his mouth, but at that moment, it satisfied as well as ice water.

“I never said you were.”

He took two more big gulps. “So why give us these? Tell us what you know. Why does it talk? What does it want?”

Why don’t you ask me?
the voice in his mind said.

“Don’t trust you,” he answered, and Nyr’s distant expression told him it had been talking to her as well.

There’s no reason not to trust me,
the voice said.
After all, haven’t I helped and protected you, hmm? Knocking aside the knife that would have put an end to your already short life? I’ve even kept your secret. I could’ve shared it with the sliver she wears around her neck, but I’ve kept it to myself. Your power… to become so much more than she could imagine… it astounds even me.

Dalan glanced at Nyr, knowing she must not hear the same words, as no look of surprise came over her face. “What do you want, then?”

The strange voice chuckled in his mind.
You’re asking a little
necklace
what it wants? What do you think, hmmm? I’ve existed for many times a human lifespan, and that gets boring fast.

“Still doesn’t tell me what you want,” he said, raising the amulet so he could stare into its translucent, purple interior. The pink dots glowed ominously.

I’ll be your guide, telling you all I know of the world—which is a lot, if I do say so myself. And you can help give me meaning. Without you, I’m just a lifeless object—worthless.

Dalan closed his eyes, wondering whether Nyr’s necklace had told her the same thing. Somehow he doubted it.

“Want more than that, don’t you? Need a host…” he mused, trying to puzzle it out, but he hadn’t found all the pieces yet.

A terrible thought occurred to him: if the necklaces could communicate amongst themselves, he couldn’t return to his tribe. Not until he’d figured out how to remove the little spy from around his neck.

A wave of white-hot fury crested over him, but before he could unleash his fear and anger, he heard the sand crunch behind him. He turned to see the Joey getting to his feet. Saquey followed, lapping up the sight of so much silver.

The alien faced Nyr. Despite the situation, Dalan found himself mesmerized by the strange hairs on the Joey’s head. They stood on end and swayed with a life of their own, as though underwater.

When the alien spoke, his voice sounded much like anyone else’s, though perhaps a higher pitch than most men’s would be. “Why have you done this?”

Dalan couldn’t cover his surprise. “Wait—he speaks our language?”

“She,” Nyr said. “And of course she does, idiot. The Catastrophe was centuries ago. They’ve learned a lot since then.”

Dalan felt the heat rise to his face. He looked the Joey up and down, not seeing any of the physical indicators he’d use to determine a human’s gender. How Nyr had known escaped him, as the alien didn’t even have nipples, and wore nothing more than an open vest and a loin cloth.

Nyr faced the Joey. “I had an extra pendant. Consider it a gift. As for this one,” she motioned toward Dalan, “he’ll give you some story about his beliefs to explain why he rescued you. In reality, you’re just a job before he returns home, boasting of his journey.”

The Joey pulled her tail up to her chest to examine it more closely; the wound split one of the blue circles lining the underside of her tail. Red blood dripped to the dusty ground.

“It would’ve been best to let me die.”

At the Joey’s words, Nyr shifted her weight and bent her knees. Dalan shook his head. Only a tribe as bloodthirsty as hers would think the Joey meant them harm. Though the Joey’s inflection made it hard to guess the meaning behind her words, he sensed dismay, not menace, in the alien’s tone.