Robert Hughes - The Power and the Prophet

“I’ve never seen anything like them,” Strahn whispered. “Where do they come from?”

“From Flayh,” said Erri.

“But how?” the young man asked. “Did Flayh make them?” Strahn’s voice quavered with horror at the very thought.

“He enfleshed them,” the prophet grunted. “They’re powers in canine form. Demon dogs, as Tahli-Damen said.”

“And Flayh controls them,” the blind man breathed ominously.

“Does he?” Erri asked, and Tahli-Damen, surprised, tried to look at him. “I mean, I don’t know,” the prophet went on. “I’m just wondering. Perhaps no one controls them. Perhaps they control themselves.

Keep close, they’re encircling us.”

Dogs from either flank bounded out before them, and others dropped off to close the gap behind. The black hounds now ringed them, tongues lolling over gleaming teeth, glowing eyes gazing forward. They made no aggressive moves toward the bluefaithers, yet the potential for attack made all four humans terribly tense. Conversation died. After an hour of silent walking, Strahn could take no more. He stooped quickly to grab up a rock.

“No!” Erri commanded, and the young man dropped his stone instead of throwing it as he’d planned.

“They’ve done nothing to us. We’ll not bother them.”

Strahn looked as if he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. They kept walking.

Night came. The moon was not yet up, but the stars were bright. By this light the initiates kept watch on their four-legged companions. Eventually sleep became a necessity. “Let’s stop here,” Erri suggested.

“What about the dogs?” Strahn asked.

“They don’t seem inclined to attack us,” the prophet muttered. “We’ll divide the night into three watches.

I’ll take the first one.”

“Divide it into four,” Tahli Damen said. “I’ll do my share.”

Wayleeth was startled. “But darling, you’re—”

“Do they know that?” her husband snarled quietly. Wayleeth did not reply.

They built a fire and lay down to sleep, and the circle of dogs settled down, too, to wait for them. There were four watches. The three who’d actually been able to see all reported the same thing in the morning: The flaming eyes of the dogs had never closed.

As they ate their meager breakfast, Erri tried an experiment. He walked a few paces westward, and the dogs on that side of the ring parted to let him pass. Then he turned and walked back to the fire. He saw Wayleeth eyeing him curiously, but he made no comment to her. A few minutes later he walked a few paces eastward, back in the direction of the sea. The dogs on this side of the circle rose slowly to their feet, but did not part. When he came within six feet of them they bared their fangs. One more pace and they growled menacingly. Erri didn’t chance another step. He propped his hands on his hips and said,

“That’s it then. You’re herding us westward, aren’t you?” The dogs stared back at him, but none made any reply. “Fortunately, that’s the very direction we’d planned to go. Come my friends—let’s be moving.”

Two days after landing on the beach, the odd troop made its way up the pass into Dragonsgate. The dogs had not obstructed them in any way, but neither had the skyfaithers departed a step from their westward route. While the presence of the dogs had naturally heightened the tension of the journey, Erri could count at least two advantages in having this escort. Tahli-Damen and Wayleeth had laid their marital differences aside in order to deal with the crisis, and were now functioning quite smoothly as a team. She had learned to anticipate his needs before he spoke them, and was making a conscious effort not to smother him. And Strahn had been so cowed by the hounds’ appearance that he’d stopped speaking entirely for a day and a half. Unfortunately, this effect had finally worn off; throughout the climb, the young man’s tongue was in constant motion. Erri finally had to put a hand over the lad’s mouth to shut him up. When Strahn fell silent, the prophet looked him in the eye and said, “Remember. Somewhere above us is a dragon.” The sentence had its desired effect. Strahn’s eyes widened, and when Erri pulled his hand away, he saw that fear had again sealed Strahn’s lips. The prophet sighed with relief.

Then he looked at Wayleeth and her husband. “What are your plans?” he asked gently.

“Are you talking to me or to him?” the young wife asked.

“To both of you. I don’t suppose you have two plans…”

“I really don’t know,” Wayleeth shrugged. “I’m with him. Where he tells me to go, I’ll lead him.”

Erri nodded. “And you, Tahli-Damen? Where will you direct her?”

The blind man walked on several paces before replying. “If we get past the dragon—”

“Oh, we’ll get past the dragon,” Erri interrupted. “Have no fear about that. The dragon’s an illusion, albeit a convincing one. Just don’t you be convinced.”

“An illusion, yes,” Tahli-Damen nodded, “but there’s enormous force behind it. I’ve seen Flayh’s power before. I know what we’re walking into.”

“Yet you’re content to go on?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” the blind man said with confidence.

“Don’t worry,” Wayleeth put in. “I’ll steer him out of trouble.”

“Ah, Wayleeth,” Erri countered. “But what if the Power steers trouble to you!”

The young woman looked confused. “Would the Power do that?”

“Regularly,” the prophet muttered; then he held his hand out to silence her and informed Tahli-Damen, “We’re about to step into Dragonsgate.”

They rounded a rock, first Erri, then Wayleeth and Tahli-Damen. Strahn didn’t go around it immediately.

Erri popped his head back around the comer to look at Strahn and announced, “You can come on. The dragon appears to be gone at the moment.”

“Gone? That’s wonderful! That’s what I’ve been hoping for, all the way up this pass, that it would be out—”

“Strahn?” Erri interrupted. “I’d like to send these two on their way. After all, the twi-beast could return any minute.” Erri turned his gaze upward slowly, directing Strahn’s eyes skyward. Then the prophet returned to the couple.

“I’m satisfied in the knowledge that you’re both listening to the Power. Go where guided. Do what you must. I rather

hope things will wind up rapidly, but I have no idea what to expect, so if I don’t see you again, know that you carry my love with you. If I do, it will be at a grand celebration.” Erri embraced them both then and sent them on their way.

The dogs had watched all of this from some distance. Now as the little band parted, they seemed hesitant as to what do do. Erri glanced over at a couple of the hounds and saw that they appeared to be talking. He wasn’t at all surprised. He’d long ago abandoned the notion that these were mere animals.

After a moment, a decision was made. Half of the dogs, eighteen or twenty, accompanied Wayleeth and her husband down the Westmouth toward Ngandib-Mar. The other half remained behind with Erri and Strahn.

“Now what?” the young man asked worriedly. He didn’t expect the pack to let them back down into Lamath.

Erri glanced around at the canyon walls. To his right was the sheer northern face of the pass. Forty feet up he could see the shelf where Vicia-Heinox had sunned itself, and behind it the yawning mouth of the dragon’s cave. “Too steep,” he mumbled. “Besides, the apparition might be using it.” He looked to his left at the southern face. “That doesn’t look any better.” He turned around and craned his neck to look up the eastern face of the pass. It looked almost climbable. “Think we could get up that?” he asked Strahn.