The Killing Song Part 13

The path Moon followed led them back toward the arena. The ruins didn't quite reach the tall walls-it looked like they had been cleared to make way for the arena-but the fire of the guards was well distant along the street. Moon's hold on Dandra's hand tightened, and he raced with her across the open s.p.a.ce. A broken wall jutted from the end of the arena, running right up to the edge of the canyon. Moon tugged Dandra through a gap, and they were on a sort of terrace, perhaps built as a private retreat for the more important patrons of the arena.

They were also, briefly, alone. The instant they were beyond the wall, Moon swung Dandra around, pulling her close and wrapping his free hand around her waist to tug her down so that their faces were level. The pupils of his eyes had shrunk down to small dots like black holes in his face. He pointed at an open doorway leading from the terrace into the shadows of the arena's interior. When he spoke, his voice was an urgent rasp. "Don't scream or Dah'mir will hear you," he said. "I'm taking a chance for you. Listen to me: when the time comes, don't resist."

Dandra shoved at him, trying to pry herself free, but his hold on her was strong. "Let me go, Moon!"

He gave her a shake. "Tell me you won't resist, Tetkashtai! Tell me you won't resist!"

She glared at him. "I'm not Tetkashtai!"

"You are. Inside you are. Dandra is a part of Tetkashtai and Tetkashtai is a part of Dandra. I should kill you the way I'm supposed to, but I can't do it. I want you to join us, the way it was supposed to be." His arms opened, and he held her only with his tiny, mad eyes. "Dah'mir will succeed in Sharn. I'm going to make sure he does. Your friends have to die, but you can survive if you-"

Deep inside Dandra, something stirred, and she knew with an abrupt certainty that the young kalashtar before her was no longer Moon, that the rebellious youth was gone. Someone else looked out at her from behind his eyes. Someone else spoke through his mouth.

"-just-"

And maybe, she realized, that someone was right that Tetkashtai remained a part of her. Feelings that were less memory than instinct rose out of her. The arm that had been around her waist, the way it had tugged her down to look into a familiar face, the way a phrase was turned, the tones beneath Moon's voice ...

"-don't-"

And the thing that she and Singe had missed fell into place. Moon hadn't loved her-or Tetkashtai-any more than he had known where to find Dah'mir. But someone else had loved Tetkashtai. Someone who had mastered the power of the long step, who knew how to use it as a weapon as Erimelk and Moon had.

"-resist!"

And her voice cracked as she said in amazement, "Virikhad?"

Moon's eyes lit up at the name of Tetkashtai's lover. "Suri! You remember me!" He reached for her again.

Dandra jerked on her spear, snapping the b.u.t.t of it up between Moon's legs, and his words ended in a horrible gurgle. She thrust herself away from him, and her spear spun again. The shaft cracked against the side of Moon's head, and he went down, eyes rolling back to show white before falling closed.

Beyond his unconscious body, Singe and Ashi froze on the broken wall, their faces wide in surprise. "Dandra!" hissed Singe. "What-?"

Dandra let her spear fall and pushed her mind out to the wizard and the hunter before either of them could speak again. Be quiet! she said through kesh. She pointed at the pa.s.sage leading from the terrace into the arena. He said Dah'mir is inside.

Singe's face darkened as he came forward, trading silently. He tried to warn him?

No, said Dandra. She settled onto the ground and knelt to touch Moon's head. He'd have a nasty bruise, but he wasn't seriously injured. He tried to warn me-or at least, he tried to warn Tetkashtai.

She pa.s.sed the events of the last few moments through the mental link, then let the connection of kesh fade. Singe's eyebrows rose. Ashi's body tensed.

"Virikhad survived Medala's destruction at the Bonetree mound?" she asked in a whisper. "How is that possible?"

Dandra kept her voice low too. "I don't know. Maybe he was stronger than I thought he was." She bit her lip. "I wonder if he wasn't the only one to survive. He said 'I want you to join us, the way it was supposed to be.'"

"Medala," Singe said. "Tetkashtai, Virikhad, and Medala were supposed to be the first servants Dah'mir created for the Master of Silence. But if she survived too, where is she? Wouldn't two kalashtar at a time fall to the killing song then?"

"One answer, more questions. I wouldn't even be certain Virikhad is still inside Moon. He might have left him when I knocked him out. There could be another victim of the killing song waiting for us in Overlook." An unpleasant thought struck Dandra. "Unless he's gone to tell Dah'mir."

Singe shook his head. "If he had, we wouldn't still be standing here. But why wouldn't he?" His eyes opened wide abruptly. "Twelve b.l.o.o.d.y moons. I don't think Dah'mir knows Virikhad survived either! Remember how he acted at Tzaryan Keep? Until he found Taruuzh's binding stones, he thought you were the last link to his experiments, Dandra. He wouldn't have thought that if he knew Virikhad or Medala was still alive."

"But why would Virikhad secretly be helping Dah'mir then?" Ashi asked. "He said he was going to make sure Dah'mir succeeded in Sharn-we don't even know what Dah'mir is supposed to succeed at."

Dandra drew a deep breath. "We can find out though," she said. "If Dah'mir hasn't come for us yet, chances are he still doesn't know we're on his doorstep." She turned to the pa.s.sage into the arena. "We came to spy on him. Let's do it."

Ashi stayed with Moon. Dandra was certain her blow would keep him unconscious long enough for them to get into and out of the arena, but they couldn't take the chance that he might wake. If Virikhad was still in control of the young man, he'd certainly try to betray them-and if he wasn't, there was a strong chance that Moon would wake to the same screaming violence as Erimelk. Dandra almost thought that she saw his lips twitch, as if some part of him was still singing the killing song, even as she and Singe stepped into the pa.s.sage.

The idea of the insidious song's hold on him only stiffened her resolve. Maybe Virikhad and Dah'mir weren't working together, but if Tetkashtai's lover was secretly helping the dragon, perhaps there was some connection between his plots and the dragon's. Maybe they could even find a way to aid the victims of the killing song.

Or maybe not, she reminded herself. All of the kalashtar elders hadn't been able to trace the source of the killing song, let alone aid its victims. Maybe she knew what-or who-was causing the song, but there were still too many pieces missing. Like how Virikhad had come to be in Sharn, waiting for them, or how he'd survived at all.

Or why he wasn't still the screaming, shattered mind she'd unleashed against Medala.

A hand touched her shoulder. She looked up at Singe. The wizard's face was somber. "Are you all right?" he murmured. "Ashi could come with me if you want to stay with Moon."

Dandra lifted her chin and stepped into the air. "Not a chance."

CHAPTER.

14.

If Kobus had expected Geth to stand in surprise or to lunge for the obvious threat, he was wrong. The instant of antic.i.p.ation pa.s.sed and battle burst over Geth. He whirled, spinning hard to the left and putting the entire weight of his body into a punch at one of the warriors who had walked on that side of him. The warrior had been drawing an axe from his belt, but Geth's gauntleted fist took him in the side of the face. Bone cracked and skin split. Blood flashed on the air. The warrior went down, stunned, and Geth leaped through the opening he had made in the closing circle, drawing Wrath as he moved.

"Garu's eye, he knew!" yelped one of the warriors. "How did he know?"

"Where's Batul?" asked Pog.

"Doesn't matter," Kobus growled. Geth couldn't tell which question he was answering. The big orc stalked forward, double axe at the ready. The weapon looked as vicious as Kobus himself: two battle-axes, each with a two broad heads, mounted at either end of a stout wooden shaft as thick as a woman's wrist. Four sharp edges gleaming in the dull light. The other orcs were armed with lesser axes and heavy-bladed swords. The warrior Geth had taken down staggered back to his feet, blood coursing from a now misshapen face. His eyes were tiny and intent. Even Pog watched Geth with a cold hatred.

They reminded Geth of wolves circling their prey. Seven big, well-armed wolves-and in their pinp.r.i.c.k eyes, he was certain he could see Medala's mad malevolence. Gauntlet raised, Wrath ready, he watched them warily.

"Close around him," said Kobus. "Don't let him through. The tainted beast-blood isn't leaving these trees alive-"

A low snarl crept out of Geth's throat. One of the largest trees in the stand was just behind him. He stepped back against it and swept his arms wide, sword and gauntlet pointed at the nearest warriors. Kobus stopped and his eyes narrowed.

"He can understand us," he said. He thrust his tusks forward. "Understand this, friend. You might have fooled us for a night, you might have fooled Batul, but you fool no one now. Whatever power you had has failed. We see you for what you are: an agent of the daelkyr. You die here. The horde of Angry Eyes will march-and we'll carry your head on a pole before us!"

Geth clenched his teeth. His gut ached. If Ekhaas had been here, she might have been able to talk some sense into the warriors. She might have been able to break Medala's hold on them. These were warriors he had drunk and sung with, whose campfires he had shared. "No!" he spat. They wouldn't be able to understand anything he said, but he had to try. Memories of Pog offering him ale, of Kobus slapping him after their fight, were raw on his soul. "This is Medala's doing! She's your enemy, not me!" He spoke two words loud and slow. "Medala ... enemy."

His words fell on uncomprehending ears. Kobus grimaced and drew back as if in disgust at the alien words. Fear flashed in the eyes of one orc. "Magic! He's trying to put his power on us again!" He screamed a battle cry and threw himself forward, axe swept back to strike.

It was a killing blow. Geth reacted the way he had to. He lunged forward, and Wrath flashed as he snapped his arm back across his body. The forked tip of the extended sword tore into the warrior's shoulder and chest. Taut muscles broke beneath the blade. The orc's arm, pulled by the muscles of his back, seemed to wrench itself backward for a moment before Wrath's fork caught his throat and severed his windpipe. The warrior stumbled in surprise before finally collapsing, blood spreading out in a flood.

He hadn't even hit the ground before the other orcs were swarming in. "Kill him!" bellowed Kobus.

Geth jumped back again and felt his backside strike the rough bark of the tree. He pivoted, putting the trunk between him and the orcs. His weapons felt as heavy on his arms as his heart in his chest. Seven to one were no odds for clean fighting-or mercy. He kept pivoting right around the tree, swinging Wrath more by instinct than intellect as he went.

The byeshk sword cut down into the soft belly of the first orc coming around the far side of the tree. Geth turned with the blow and whirled out into the open. It cost him the protection of the tree, but for a moment the dying orc offered him the same cover as his friends tried to get around him. A wide-bladed sword painted with the same red hordemarks that decorated its wielder swung at him-he turned it with his gauntlet and swung Wrath in reply, but the warrior was fast and leaped back.

Another orc started to shove forward and pulled up short. Geth caught a flash of wariness in his face and threw himself to the side just as one head of Kobus's double axe flashed down from behind to slice the ground here he'd stood. The shifter rolled on his shoulder, came back up in a crouch, and before Kobus had a chance to recover, pushed himself forward again, charging to meet the two orcs who had come around the tree behind the big warrior. One of the pair tried to block Wrath's whistling arc. The other tried to swing his axe under Geth's gauntleted arm, aiming for his vulnerable torso.

Geth twisted aside and the axe skimmed past his ribs, slicing fabric and nicking flesh, but no worse. The steel-jacketed fingers of Geth's hand, however, raked at the warrior's head as he pa.s.sed, caught on hair and ear, and spun him into Kobus. Both went down in a tangle. At the same moment, Wrath chopped deep into the thick wooden shaft of the other warrior's axe. The orc was canny and turned his weapon sharply, trying to trap Geth's sword. Geth didn't bother fighting him for it. Already moving backward, he kept on turning, slamming the elbow of his gauntlet back into the warrior's face and stomping down hard on his shin. Something-face or leg, maybe both-splintered loudly. The warrior screamed and fell.

His fall freed Wrath. Geth whipped the sword forward and hacked at the orc with the torn ear as he staggered clear of Kobus. Wrath's edge sheared clean through his skull, spraying blood and bits of brain across Kobus's ma.s.sive chest. The dead warrior pitched over sideways, his limbs spasming-and Medala's hatred, strangely, vanishing from his eyes like a candle flame in a windstorm. It wasn't until his ruined head bounced against the leaf-covered earth that Geth realized he had just killed Pog.

A memory of the warrior offering him ale came back to him with terrible clarity. Tag domad'ad chuf! You can drink with me and my friends!

That moment of distraction cost him. Hands grabbed onto his leg from behind and sudden pain shoved a groan out of his throat as the orc he had knocked down sank big teeth into the meat of his calf. Shifting-toughened flesh resisted his teeth, but the orc gnawed like an animal. Geth tried to pull away, but the orc held on with hands and jaws. Kobus shouted and swung his axe.

Geth saw the heavy blades cut the air, saw the long shaft slide through Kobus's fingers to extend the reach and power of the blow. The two remaining warriors, including the one whose cheek Geth had shattered, surged in at his side. Geth flung up sword and gauntlet to meet their attacks- -and fell backward as the orc who had trapped ripped suddenly at his leg. His savagery brought new pain burning through Geth's leg and knocked him off his already awkward balance. The shifter crashed back, and Kobus's axe swung past in a flat arc just above his chest.

It caught Wrath though. The Dhakaani sword rang like a heavy chime as it was ripped from Geth's grip and flung away into the shadows of the trees.

Geth came down hard on top of the wounded orc, the fall wrenching his leg out of the warrior's grasp. He also came down on top of the warrior's injured leg, bringing another scream out of him-a scream that ended sharply as Geth kicked him in the head. Geth got his gauntlet up, swept aside a blow from the warrior with the shattered cheek, and rolled across the ground as the second head of Kobus's axe swung down. He felt a tug on his scalp as he moved and looked back to see locks of thick brown hair clinging to the axe as Kobus whirled it up again.

The big orc howled in frustration and spat something in Orc, but without Wrath Geth could no longer understand him. He bared his teeth and climbed to his feet, his chewed leg forcing him to limp. Kobus's eyes flicked to his injury and his posture changed. He sank back on his tree-trunk legs and began to swing his double axe in slow circles. His eyes focused on Geth's face, then he began to move forward, step by slow step. The other two orcs moved out to the sides, coming at Geth from right and from left. Geth backed up cautiously, but they followed, quicker than him with uninjured legs.

They weren't, however, entirely uninjured. Geth feinted toward the warrior with the broken cheek. His face was beginning swell, squeezing closed the eye above the cheek. Geth took a fast step toward him, feinted with his gauntlet toward the warrior's good side-then leaped at him, striking with the heel of his empty left hand straight at his broken face. Bones that were already shattered crumbled under his blow, driving inward. The warrior wailed and Geth swarmed around behind him even as Kobus and the final orc turned to help their friend. Geth took a firm grip on the warrior's good cheek with on hand, wrapped the other arm around his throat, and twisted hard.

The orc's neck snapped and his body went limp. Quick as thought, Geth bent down, grabbed the axe from his dead hand and hurled it the last warrior. The heavy-headed weapon hadn't been meant for throwing, but at close range and with Geth's strength behind it, it flew well enough to split the orc's breastbone and sink deep into his chest.

The death of his final man didn't slow Kobus down, however. His double-axe spun up, stopped at the top of its arc, then chopped down. Geth barely blocked it, and the force of the impact left his arm numb inside the gauntlet. He gritted his teeth and blocked a second blow, this one low, as Kobus whirled the second head at him. Then a third blow, high, and a fourth, low. Deceptively low. He left himself open as he tried to stop it and abruptly Kobus had turned his weapon and the edge was diving across Geth's belly. He twisted to avoid it and the steel cut a deep gash across his hip instead. Geth staggered, then staggered again as he tripped over Pog's still body. He slid down to one knee.

And without a moment's hesitation, Kobus released one hand from the shaft of his double axe and clamped it around Geth's throat, squeezing hard. It was the same tactic that had almost won him the challenge in the horde camp, but this time he kept Geth down, forcing him to his knees in Pog's warm blood.

Shadows swam in Geth's vision. Kobus grinned horribly, and his pin-p.r.i.c.k mad eyes looked merry. He spoke in Orc, and while Geth couldn't understand the words, he could guess at them. We've been here before, you and I.

It occurred to Geth that he wasn't sure who did the speaking. Kobus had almost strangled him-but in their last meeting, Medala had almost suffocated him. Who spoke from Kobus's mouth?

It didn't matter. Geth met Kobus's eyes and managed to force a few words out of his crushed throat. "Last time," he croaked, "I wasn't armed."

His right arm brought up Pog's axe, plucked from the ground, and swung it in an awkward but powerful arc.

The bit deep into Kobus' upper arm, cutting through flesh and chopping through bone. Kobus screamed. His grasp went limp, and he staggered back. His arm hung from a tatter of muscle, fingers clenching wildly. His double-axe fell from his other hand as he tried to clutch at his maimed limb. Geth sucked air into his lungs and went after him. Kobus looked up, his eyes pools of insane hatred. Tears of rage washed his red horde marks. Geth's gut twisted.

Kobus lunged at him, ma.s.sive jaws snapping. Geth stepped back and swung the axe, burying it in Kobus's skull. The speed of the warrior's moving body carried him on to plow into the dirt, but when he stopped, he lay very still.

Geth groaned and staggered, releasing his hold on his shifting and sucking in his breath as the act tugged closed the worst of his wounds. Vulnerability rushed back to him-vulnerability and the ache of what he had done. He put his hands to his forehead and knotted his fingers in his hair. "Tiger and Wolf-"

"Geth!"

An orc's voice, but not speaking Orc. Young. Clear. Familiar. Geth spun around, his heart lifting suddenly. "Orshok!" he said-then froze.

It was the young druid, but his face was cold and his eyes were as hard and insane as Kobus's had been. As Medala's were. Geth's heart felt like it had been torn out of his chest.

In one hand, Orshok held a hunda stick. In the other, he held Wrath. He flung it in the dirt at Geth's feet almost casually. Geth stared at it, then up at Orshok. The Gatekeeper smiled.

"No," Geth groaned. "No."

"Kill or be killed." The voice that came from Orshok's lips didn't have the warm tones Geth had come to know in his travels. Instead, it was dry and harsh, the voice of a kalashtar who had traveled to the heart of madness and back. "Either way, I will have what I want." Orshok's eyes flickered-and a low song rippled out of his mouth. Geth realized he knew the rhythm, that he had heard it in the drums and flutes and rattles of the horde of Angry Eyes, but this was the first time he had heard it given voice and something about it chilled him to the bone.

"Aahyi-ksiksiksi-kladakla-yahaahyi-"

Orshok's eyes focused on him, and the song rose to a pitch. He raised his hunda, holding it like a weapon. Geth didn't move. He couldn't move. He couldn't kill a friend. Run, he told himself. Take Wrath and run!

And leave Orshok in Medala's power?

Then a shadow moved behind Orshok, seeming to emerge from the solid trunk of one of the trees. Something rose and fell with a swiftness Geth wouldn't have expected. It struck Orshok across the back of his head, and the young orc's eyes rolled back. His body slid to the ground-and Batul faced Geth over his p.r.o.ne student, his own hunda stick slowly sinking.

"You fool," he said harshly. "You couldn't wait? You couldn't restrain yourself?"

Geth barely heard the words. He stared at Orshok, anguish and giddy relief pummeling him. "He's not dead, is he?"

"No."

"Medala had him." Geth looked up at Batul. "Medala had all of them! She still has her powers and your magic can't stop her. She's manipulating the entire horde, even the Gatekeepers-"

Batul slammed the b.u.t.t of his hunda stick into the ground, his good eye blazing. "I knew that, you idiot! Word of Vvaraak, didn't you think I knew that? If you'd gone along with her, if you'd waited to speak to me some other time-any other time-this might not have happened!" He gestured around them.

"Geth! Batul!" Ekhaas came charging out of the trees, her sword drawn, and pulled up short at the sight of the carnage. Her eyes went wide, and her ears stood up tall. "Khaavolaar!"

Geth felt very small and very ashamed, felt guilty for surviving a fight that shouldn't have happened. Wouldn't have happened if he'd held himself back. "They lured me away. It was a trap."

Ekhaas pressed her lips together. "I guessed as much when I realized Hona's curiosity was too intense to be natural. Medala used my arrogance against me." She nodded toward Batul. "He found me before I could find you again, though, and I told him what we'd discovered-and he told me what he already knew."

She actually looked humbled too. Batul growled a curse under his breath. "And neither of you considered that allowing me to remain largely under Medala's control for the moment might give you more insight later? You're both fools." He sighed and his anger seemed to draw back. He closed his eyes wearily, then looked back at them. "I have to return to the ceremony of the horde before the spell that brought me here ends-and before Medala realizes that I'm not entirely under her power. You two will have to leave. She's backed you into a corner."

"Medala spoke through Orshok," said Geth. "She said kill or be killed, she'd still have what she wanted."

Batul nodded. "If you died, you'd be out of her way. If you lived, you'd face the rage of the horde for killing friends and oath-brothers. The bodies would have been found, though now Orshok will wake and raise the alarm. Even when you flee, you'll be reviled, a fallen hero."

The words turned like a knife in Geth's belly. A reviled hero. He'd felt that way before. The loss of what he had enjoyed again, however briefly, stung. His head dropped-and he stared into Kobus's split face.

Orshok lay unconscious before him. Pog's body grew cold. They had died at his hands-but also because Medala had sent them against him like tokens in a game. The sting of loss turned into fiery anger. He raised his head, teeth clenched. "Medala's still up to something. We can't just run!"

An idea flashed in Batul's eye. "Do you think you could run ahead of the horde-all the way to the Bonetree mound?"

Geth stared at him, but Ekhaas's ears twitched in understanding. "If she's going to do something unexpected, she's likely to do it there. We can scout ahead."

"And if you need us, we'll be there. We can do that." Geth bent down and s.n.a.t.c.hed Wrath up from the ground. "But we'll need guidance. I don't know the way to mound from here."

Batul hesitated for a moment, then his hands went to his neck and pulled an amulet from beneath his shirt. "I think this may be what has enabled me to hold back Medala's influence," he said, "but your need is greater than mine now. Run north tonight, then lie on the ground at dawn, and it will show you the way."

Geth knew the amulet. When he'd carried Wrath out of the ghostly fortress of Jhegesh Dol, he'd also carried out the amulet, and Batul had recognized it immediately as a lost artifact of the Gatekeepers. There was a dragon's scale encased within it, a relic of the legendary Vvaraak. Geth drew a sharp breath. "Batul, I can't take that!"