The Last of the Ageless (14 page)

He glared at Nyr, silently warning her to stay back, and moved past them to retrieve his pack from beside the boulder. The dragonfly offerings jangled inside as he dug through it.

“Let me get you some bandages for your wound,” he said, pulling out the largest wrapping and some tape. “What’s your name?”

The Joey raised a canteen and poured water across her skin, rinsing the wound as best she could. Dalan’s mouth felt drier with every drop of water that fell into the dust. As she secured the bandage to her tail, she answered, “My name is Ti’rros. I am a worthless exile, belonging to no tribe.”

“Dalan of the Omdecu Tribe.” Dalan tipped his head.

“Nyr of the Hellsworth Tribe.” Nyr reabsorbed her fur, and her ears returned to their normal positions. “Now that we’re done with the introductions, let’s go.” She headed back toward where she’d scaled the cliff face.

Dalan slung his pack across his shoulder. When she approached the bend in the ravine, he raised his voice. “No.”

Don’t you want to head home, hmm?
the necklace asked.

Nyr whirled to face them. “What is your problem?”

“Tell us how to take the necklaces off.”

Dalan, there’s no reason—

“I can’t.” She put a hand to her hip, her fingers caressing a knife hilt.

“Why not?” He stepped toward her, trying to be menacing.

“Because I don’t know how.” She grabbed the necklace and tried raising it over her head, which resulted in the same failure they’d faced. “And I don’t know any more about it than you do, so don’t bother asking me.”

Despite Dalan’s wishes, Ti’rros headed toward her. “You’ve had it longer than I have. Surely there is some knowledge you can impart.” Saquey swooped back down, circling the Joey.

Nyr shook her head, causing her other trophies to clink and rattle on her chest. “I got them just before I met him.” She pointed at Dalan. “I stole both of yours from that tribe. I’m sure that’s part of why they chased me.”

“Besides the more obvious reason.” Dalan ran a thumb over the pendant’s smooth surface as he raised his canteen to his lips.

Nyr smirked, then disappeared around the bend in the ravine. The Joey followed, her tail hovering above the ground, waving back and forth with each step.

Dalan caught up to the alien. “I’m glad you’re well. Feared the rock might have broken your tail.”

“I will be able to continue my wandering. It is my intention to find the water at the lower end of this ravine.”

Dalan paused, considering his next move. He needed to get Saquey out of the drylands. The Ancient Teachings obligated him to escort someone traveling in the same direction, but Nyr had betrayed his trust more than once. The Joey, fortunately, planned to travel in a different direction.

“Goodbye, then,” Dalan said to the Joey’s back. “Tell Nyr what you will, necklace. But if you won’t go peaceably, I’ll have to find a way to remove you myself.”

Dalan, I only—

Dalan shrank, absorbing his pack, his clothing, and everything else on his body as he fell to the ravine floor. The skin of his feet hardened, and his arms wrenched in their sockets, becoming wings for the second time that day. As the feathers grew in, he once again felt the hawk’s mind invade. He pushed against it.

Dalan burst from the ravine in frantic flapping. An updraft caressed his underside, carrying him far above the rocky walls. He hoped he had enough strength after so many transmelds to see them out of the drylands. Saquey buzzed alongside, and Dalan sent it a mental image of open skies and a forest far below.

Only then did he realize he’d interrupted the voice.

Dalan nudged the dragonfly to send him an image of himself. It took a few tries for his companion to understand what he wanted, but finally the red hawk appeared in his mind’s eye.

His feet trailed up under his tail, wings spread wide on the updraft. In appearance, he was identical to any other hawk. The necklace had been absorbed along with his other accoutrements.

Far below, Ti’rros made her way down the ravine as Nyr clambered to the top.

Dalan knew he’d been a fool to trust her. Whatever her and the necklaces’ plans had been, Dalan’s transmeld had thwarted them all.

Nyr stared down into the ravine, her stomach knotting. “You let them wander off with the other amulets?”

The voice in her head answered,
The Joey continues her exile with one of my shards, yes. Thank you for parting with it.

Nyr let out a growl. She’d thought the amulet would persuade the Joey to follow her, just as it had convinced Dalan to do. “What’s the matter with you? You said I’d get them all back eventually.”

The Changeling’s gone, too—not much we can do about that.

“The Changeling?” She snatched up the purple amulet and stared at it, letting it see her anger.

I only just found out myself, darling.

“Your other shard should’ve known the moment I put it around his neck.” She pulled a piece of dried fruit from a pocket and chewed on it, thinking about this setback. With one trophy, she didn’t feel ready to return to her people; she’d wanted all three trophies and any other treasures she turned up along the way to prove her worth to her clan.

What can I say, hmm? You and I can still continue hunting for plunder like you wanted.

She remembered back to the day she’d found this meddling trophy, in an old man’s hovel. The Tiger Clan had been busy going door to door and ransacking what remained of his village at the time. The man had begged for his life as she rifled through the meager belongings of his single-room cabin.

He had also whimpered about other riches in a small town not far away, trying to offer his knowledge in exchange for his life, “In Mapleton… It’s west of here. No defenses to speak of. Small place.”

In a box on his mantle, she had found a curious purple trinket attached to a leather cord.

“You shouldn’t—” He had shut up when she put it around her neck with her other trophies.

Nyr had pocketed some metal coins from a drawer as the old man proceeded to tell her everything she wanted to know about Mapleton. Then she backed him into a corner. With his broad shoulders, he might have been a formidable man once, but the years had left him wasted and weak. Only a few wisps of hair remained on his head. She’d never seen someone so old before.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, old man?” Nyr grabbed his frail arm and raised it between them.

“No—no! Of course not. Please!”

Nyr took one of his fingers between hers and snapped it. His screech annoyed her so much she almost raked her claws across his neck to end the sound. “You’re sure you’re not lying?”

“I can show you!”

“Good idea.” Nyr grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him toward the door.

She’d believed she’d need to wait for Klin to destabilize the clan enough for her clanmates to appreciate why she wanted to remove him from power. With the old man’s promises, she allowed herself to hope she might amass enough plunder alone to impress her clanmates, allowing her to challenge him without being challenged in turn by someone else. She’d seen it happen in the past—a new clan master would emerge victorious, only to be taken down within minutes of gaining the title.

Outside, most of her clanmates occupied themselves by looting and lighting other cabins on fire. Only Jaul noticed as Nyr pushed the old man toward the edge of the village. She admired Jaul’s sleek orange-and-black coat as he moved to intercept her.

“What are you doing?”

“This old man wants to show me something.” Nyr smiled at Jaul, letting her fangs show. “Don’t wait for me. I’ll rejoin you all later.”

Jaul closed the distance, staring at Nyr, his cat’s eyes dilating from slits to circles. Then he kissed her. “You know, I was hoping, after we finished here…”

Nyr put a hand to his chest, disturbing the thick mane of trophies around his neck. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you sate yourself with Neula instead?” She pushed him away, his jewelry clinking and rattling.

He gave her an injured look. For a time, Nyr had kept him all to herself, but she understood why he’d grown fond of Neula. He and Neula were similar; they were followers. She respected them both, but they would never overthrow their clan master.

Jaul pivoted at the sound of a building collapsing on itself. Then he glanced over his shoulder at her. “Nyr... What should I tell Klin if he finds out?”

Nyr almost answered with a few pithy remarks, but stopped herself. “Whatever you want.”

Jaul frowned, but nodded. Then he spotted a man fleeing Neula in the distance. He let out a low rumble and sprinted after them, his claws out.

Nyr returned to her venture, setting off across the dead landscape and avoiding the infrequent prickly-pear cactuses on their path. After a few hours, she tired of the old man’s plodding pace and looped a rope around his neck.

By the time she spotted the village of Mapleton rising from the horizon, the old man barely clung to life. She’d been forced to drag him along when his strength gave out. She left him lying insensate in the dust of the borderlands as she sneaked toward Mapleton in feline form.

An iron globe dominated the center of the village; according to the old man, it was an Ancient relic. At the sight of braziers and evidence of sacrifices, Nyr swore when she became clan master, her Tiger Clan would cleanse superstitious fools from Hellsworth Territory.

Beyond the massive iron sphere, Nyr discovered the smallest house, the one the old man had told her about. Inside, she found no treasure, only a few trinkets and more purple amulets of the type the old man had surrendered to her. She dropped them all into her hip pouch.

Watch out!

Nyr crouched, looking for the source of the voice. A club whizzed by her head. She pivoted, slashing at the ribs of the man who’d swung it. They’d fought, but when she snapped his leg, his screams brought other villagers running.

Outside, Nyr knocked over one of the braziers positioned around the imposing iron globe and fled. The flame leaped from house to house as she circled the town, trying to both lose her pursuers and find the spot where she’d left her captive. He owed her an explanation.

But the old man had disappeared.

She’d cursed herself for a fool, but had no time to search for him as the villagers pursued her across the arid borderlands.

Then the darkness itself had seemed to whisper in her mind. Her newest trophy had told her it would help her find wondrous plunder, forgotten over the ages, in exchange for reuniting it with its other shards. But it had been of little help dealing with her pursuers until it spotted Dalan, who had created the perfect distraction for the horsemen who’d pursued her. Since then, she hadn’t tried to take the amulet off again.

The sun met the horizon, and Nyr followed along the top of the ravine in the direction the Joey had gone, reluctant to let her wander off with one of the trophies. The alien only had one canteen. Nyr wondered how long it would take her to succumb to dehydration, nullifying Dalan’s deed.

“So do you know where the boy went or not?” Nyr said to the amulet.

He’s a Changeling like yourself. Is it such a surprise he could disappear?

“What
kind
of Changeling? You’re being coy.” Her amulet tended to give evasive answers, like when she’d demanded to know how it had been created and why it could talk.

He shifted into a bird and left, though I’d hoped he’d do more scouting… to help us find the rest of my shards.

“I can’t believe that weakling boy turned out to be a Changeling. He let me go on thinking him a Purebreed.”

Then she thought about what it said. It might lead her to more trophies, but something didn’t add up there. “So you’re saying your three shards will still be able to communicate, even across those distances?”

Of course. We’re inseparable.

The amulets’ real goals—and whether or not they all shared the same goals—remained unclear. She didn’t want to imagine what might happen if any of the amulets fell into the wrong hands.

“And your other wearers?” she asked on instinct, wondering if she, the Joey, and Dalan were the only ones.

What other wearers?

Nyr dropped the trinket and scanned the horizon. A dust cloud rose in the distance.

“So what would you have me do now?” She tucked it back under her other amulets, so its glow wouldn’t give her away in the coming darkness. It had complained about this habit before, but she ignored its pleas to see the world. Its curiosity wasn’t worth her life.

Perhaps head to the west, to the grasslands. I remember a place called Searchtown. Whether it’s still populated, or abandoned after all these centuries…
The voice trailed off, only to resume a moment later.
It will undoubtedly harbor some hidden treasures.

As Nyr started to argue, the voice spoke up again.
Keep quiet, you two.

“Who?” For a moment, another voice entered her head, as though she heard someone whispering at the bottom of the ravine… or someone whose screams were muffled under a pillow.

Sorry, my dear. I was talking to one of my other shards.