The Silk Map (64 page)

As the arrows hit, Snow Pine charged up to another Moth and swung her staff. With a sound of thunder the Moth careened back. Gaunt and Bone joined Snow Pine, each with daggers out. Haytham had his arm around the high lama.

“This is foolishness,” Jewelwolf said, readying another arrow. “The human warriors are one thing. But these people cannot stop otherworldly monsters.”

“What would you suggest?” Steelfox asked.

“I do not suggest. I act.”

Jewelwolf shot an arrow at the high lama. The woman fell.

“No!” Xia cried and ran to the lama's side. Northwing struggled to control the Iron Moth.

Steelfox whirled to her sister. “Are you mad?”

“Hardly. If the lama dies, she will reincarnate somewhere. The Bull Demon will have no immediate way to claim her; thus Xembala is safe. And we may claim our prize. But I do not think she is finished yet.”

The high lama was being tended by Gaunt, Bone, and Haytham, while Snow Pine fought off an Iron Moth. Two more were coming.

Steelfox dropped her bow, drew her blade. “You won't be finishing anyone.”

“I'm disappointed,” Jewelwolf said, keeping her bow and aiming at Steelfox. “But this moment was inevitable, was it not?”

“Give up your weapons, and you needn't give up your life.”

“I never imagined you for a traitor, sister.”

“And I am not. I am loyal to our father's dreams.”

“His dreams? The reality is that he chose me over you and would have made me ruler if not for the laws. Obey me now.”

“No. This is your last chance. You are alone.”

“I think not.” Jewelwolf tossed her bow and removed from her back not a shield but a bronze mirror, its back marked with astronomical symbols. It began to glow.

“Lady . . .” Northwing managed to say. “I am losing . . .”

The Iron Moth she'd been dominating rose and leapt toward her.

Steelfox did not hesitate. There was no fear. She ran to intercept the Iron Moth. Jewelwolf's tricks must wait.

Her sword was good Karvak steel, and it got one fierce blow against the Moth before shattering. The next thing she knew, the entity was clubbing her with four separate legs, each like an iron staff. Light exploded in her eyes, and each burst seemed accompanied by the laughter of Jewelwolf.

Bone saw that Chodak was alive but gasping. The arrow might have grazed a lung. It surely had unleashed considerable blood. “Ma'am,” he said. “I've faced many injuries. I will help.”

“And I,” Haytham said, “I've studied with my land's physicians.”

Chodak coughed. “Persimmon Gaunt. I give this to you.”

Beneath the high lama's robes, spattered with her blood, was the saber named Crypttongue.

“I do not want it, Holiness,” Gaunt said.

“It wants you,” Chodak said. “I hear its whispers. It preferred the treasure hunter, but he has gone. You are here. Your karma and its are bound together.”

“Bone . . .” Gaunt said.

“I understand, Persimmon,” Bone said, letting intuition guide his words. He did not know what he'd say before it left his mouth. “I can't tell you what to do. But whether or not you claim the sword, you've already claimed me.”

Gaunt looked to where Snow Pine fought for their lives, swinging Monkey's staff again and again. Now a second Iron Moth arrived.

She took the bloody sword. Soon she was at Snow Pine's side.

Bone wanted to join her, but he knew he'd be little assistance against the Moths. Here, he might help.

Haytham said, as he tore the fabric away from the puncture point. “Imago Bone, keep the high lama immobile whist I pull free the arrow.”

Bone nodded, feeling unexpectedly abashed at seeing a holy woman so exposed. The lama seemed less concerned with this than with her attacker. “I heard Princess Jewelwolf's reasons. She has had a valid insight, I suspect . . . though I perhaps would not have applied it in quite that fashion . . .”

“Uh, Holiness,” said Bone, “We have to pull that arrow.”

“You're quite right.” She smiled. “There is a famous parable to the effect that one should not question the design of the arrow, nor the identity of the shooter, before getting it out.”

“Whoever said that was wise,” Haytham said. “Hold still.”

“Yes, I would agree—ah!”

Chodak was sitting upright—with Bone supporting her and stanching her wound and Haytham holding a bloody arrow—when Zheng arrived.

Zheng knelt. “You . . . ,” Zheng said. “You were my prince, my Tashi.”

“Times have changed . . . my Xia. Xembala and I are not the same. The wheel turns.”

“I fled from you, ashamed of being a peasant in your land. I found my way to a town in the desert, now buried. I never saw you again, but I saw the Moths. They came in anger and rent the Silk Map. Greedy people ran off with most of the pieces. They tell stories up and down the braid, that you tore the dress. You are ill-served by such tales. I had not thought we would meet again.”

“In a sense we did not . . . still, karma endures, and we two are here.”

“If only . . .” Zheng looked wistful.

Chodak smiled. “If only we were not inside a demonic volcano . . . fighting for our lives?”

Zheng laughed. “Yes. That is what I meant.”

“May the Thresholders allow us to meet later. For now . . . I think you are the only one the Iron Moths will heed . . . and I think Steelfox needs you.”

Zheng nodded and departed. Chodak sighed back into Bone's arms. Bone was startled by the transformation; one moment Chodak was bright with vitality, the next collapsing.

“Ma'am?” Bone said.

“There is considerable pain. . . . I will now practice a discipline in which I ask the Thresholders to let my suffering draw to itself the suffering of others . . . thereby granting solace to many around the world.”

“I do not understand.”

“What I mean is, I will be all right. . . . Haytham ibn Zakwan ibn Rihab is a fair physician. . . . Imago Bone, there is a woman who needs you . . .”

Bone looked up to see Gaunt fighting beside Snow Pine. The pair were actually holding their own. One Iron Moth had been felled, and each woman now faced another. Monkey's staff cracked metal carapaces, and Crypttongue bit deep.

“That battle seems somewhat out of my league,” Bone said, “but I'll do what I can.”

“No, I do not speak of your wife, Imago Bone. I speak of your countrywoman.”

Snow Pine hardly dared to admit to herself how much fun she was having. She should not—she thought in between thunderous blows against her opponents—wish to harm intelligent beings. The Fraternity of the Hare were misguided, but their motivation was love of country. And the creatures from the stars were possessed by demons of her own world. She should pity them, not grin as she smashed them, pounded them, knocked them into a river of lava.

But grin she did. From a life of submission to a life of banditry, from a retreat in an otherworldly monastery to an adventure across the world, she had never had such an opportunity to unleash all her fury. It was a peculiar joy.

She was glad to have Gaunt beside her, but it seemed to her Gaunt took less pleasure in the fight. Crypttongue flashed in the caldera's strange light as the poet hacked and jabbed with grim focus.

Snow Pine wondered what price her friend was paying for such power.

But perhaps she should wonder about herself. The staff was hot and faintly glowing. A wild energy seized her, and she felled a new Iron Moth in one blow.

“Snow Pine!” Gaunt said. “Stay with me.”

Snow Pine only laughed, and the rhythm of battle danced her away from Gaunt and deeper into the fray.

Snow Pine's departure left only Gaunt to protect the high lama, and she fought with fresh determination. Stabbing deep into an Iron Moth, she felt not one but two minds flow into the sword and babble their way into her consciousness.

She knelt, absorbing the strange sensations.

—
suffer suffer I will make you pay
—

<< discorporation unexpected >>

—
you will scream in agony
—

<< separation from Charstalker pleasing >>

—
you will beg me for release
—

<< loss of body not pleasing >>

—
you have my eternal hate
—

<< observation: nothing lasts forever >>

Despite the danger, the disorientation left her staring upward. Luckily Snow Pine seemed to be attracting all the possessed Iron Moths to herself. This pause allowed Gaunt to notice a dark shape dropping out of the sky.

It was the flying carpet, Deadfall.

It seemed to be coming right for her.

She raised the sword, covered with red and orange blood.

It did not seek her out but rather flapped toward Princess Jewelwolf, one corner folded down, red light flickering upon its knotwork.

“Mistress,” she heard it say.

Gaunt rose to stagger toward Jewelwolf, who was even now stepping upon the carpet, bearing the magical bronze mirror from the flying ger.

“Mistress, I have it. I have the thing the Cardinals hoped to claim.”

Gaunt got as far as Northwing, Zheng, and Steelfox. The three were facing down an Iron Moth. The shaman's eyes were shut. The Karvak was bleeding in several places, but she was still alive, kneeling beside Zheng, and Zheng's hand was thrust outward toward the Moth.

The Moth did not move; it was held in place by this combination of effort. But neither did the three women have the wherewithal to confront Jewelwolf.

“Mistress,” Deadfall was saying, “I have my full powers, and the Bull Demon is distracted. I was able to cross half the world and back again. Mistress, it is yours.”

—
betrayer artifact it defies us
—

<< intriguing metadimensional phenomenon in vicinity >>

Gaunt's eyes widened as she lurched forward with Crypttongue. She could not believe what she thought she glimpsed. The skin on the back of her neck felt cold prickles, no matter that she stood in a volcano's maw. Jewelwolf noticed her.

“No, poet and madwoman,” said the Karvak lady, stepping onto Deadfall and letting it bear her upward. “It is not for you. Nor is it for my sister. It is for one with vision. Keep your ironsilk.”

The Karvak extended her hand, and Deadfall's folded corner revealed its prize.

“No,” Gaunt said.