James Wyatt - In the Claws of the Tiger

As Mathas cast his spell, Janik kept gazing toward Mel-Aqat, half expecting some answer to all the questions that had haunted him for three years to rise up like a plume of smoke from the ruins. He stared until his eyes burned in the dry desert air, then turned abruptly, resuming his pacing for many moments before beginning to stare again. He was dimly aware of Dania and Auftane engaging in quiet conversation, and even half-heard his own name once or twice, but he could not tear his attention away from the ruins.

When Mathas began to speak, though, Janik turned at once and listened raptly.

“By the Host,” the elf croaked, “the city certainly has changed since we’ve been away.” Mathas stood entranced, eyes closed, leaning slightly toward the ruins.

“What?” Janik demanded, moving to stand right at Mathas’s shoulder. “What do you see?”

“First of all, they’ve been doing some building. It looks mostly like stacking blocks, with no mortar, but some of those blocks are quite large. They have erected some semblance of a wall around the city-as far as I can see, it follows the line of the original city wall.”

“By ‘they,’ I assume you mean the tiger-fiends,” Janik said.

“Yes, the rakshasas. Quite a number of them are posted along the wall. They’re the soldiers, the zakyas, like the ones we fought at the tower.”

“Quite a number?” Dania called, still crouching on the sand behind Mathas. “Can you be more specific?”

“They are in groups of two or three, spaced along the wall. But the groups are close enough to each other that it would be hard to fight them one group at a time-reinforcements would be quick to arrive.”

“Organized resistance,” Janik muttered. “That little fiend kingdom you suggested, Dania. I don’t like this.”

“Nor do I,” Dania said. “Mathas, what’s inside the wall? Have they rebuilt more of the city?”

“One moment. I need to send the eye over the wall.”

“Sort of makes you wish he could have sent the eye all the way here from Stormreach and saved us all the trouble, doesn’t it?” Auftane said. “We could be resting by a roaring fire in a fine restaurant somewhere while Mathas investigates the ruins with magic.”

“Believe me, my friend,” Mathas said, opening his eyes just long enough to glance back at the dwarf, “if such a thing were within my capabilities, I would have been the first to suggest it. I think I can rightly claim the distinction of despising travel more than any of you.”

“What’s that?” Auftane pointed up where a dark shape was silhouetted against the bright desert sky. Janik and Dania looked up, following the dwarf’s short finger.

“Is it a dragon or something?” Janik said. “Dania, I’m counting on your elf eyes.”

“That’s no dragon,” Dania said. “By the Flame, what is it doing here?”

“Is it some kind of winged snake?” Auftane said.

“You’re not far off, Auftane.” Dania’s voice was a whisper, and Mathas opened his eyes, distracted from his spell by her awed tone. “That’s a couatl.”

The four companions stared into the air, watching the winged serpent snaking across the sky. Its wings shimmered with rainbow colors in the bright sunlight, and its movements were stunningly graceful, as if it were dancing. It drifted slowly over them, tracing a wide arc across the sky, centered above the ruined city. If it saw them, it showed no sign-it did not seem to linger above them or slow its progress as it passed over them. Janik watched it until it was a tiny speck and then vanished from his sight, then his gaze fell on Dania.

She was still spellbound, her eyes fixed on a distant point in the sky where her keen eyes could still make out the couatl’s writhing dance. Tears streamed down her cheeks, past the upturned corners of her mouth. Janik watched her face for a long time, saw her smile brighten as she observed some new nuance in its movements. She looked radiant-her expression struck him as a softer, warmer version of the holy flame that had wreathed her sword in battle against the fiends. It was an expression he had seen on Maija’s face in rare moments when she was deep in prayer, and it stirred something in his soul that he had not felt in a very long time.

He watched Dania while she stared up at the couatl. When she finally lowered her gaze, it fell on Janik, and he quickly averted his eyes, embarrassed to have been caught staring at her. His embarrassment grew when he realized that Auftane and Mathas had been watching him, and he found himself wondering how much of his feelings had shown on his face. Mathas had a mild scowl on his face, but Auftane was grinning broadly.

Collecting himself quickly, Janik barked at Mathas. “Is that eye of yours still in the ruins? Or are all three of them staring at me?”

Mathas started, then closed his eyes again. “Back in the ruins. Just coming over the … Sovereigns!”

“Now what?” Janik demanded.

“They have rebuilt more than the wall,” Mathas said. “And they are still building. Like the wall, they are simply stacking pieces of the ruins on top of each other, in random fashion. The ziggurat is still standing, of course, right at the center of the wall’s circle. Then it looks like mounds of rubble are heaped up here and there around it. Hmm. They appear to be random, but I wonder-What?” His eyes popped open.

“What is it, Mathas?” Dania asked, putting a hand on the elf’s shoulder.

“Someone canceled the spell. That means-”

“They know we were watching,” Janik said. “Do they know where we are?”

“No way to know,” Mathas said.

“I think I know,” said Dania, pointing toward the ruins.

Janik followed her finger, but couldn’t see anything. “You know, I’m getting tired of this. Why didn’t my mother marry an elf?”

“They’re coming,” Dania said. “In strength.”

Janik led their retreat toward the foothills, skirting the ruined city. At first, he made a half-hearted attempt to hide their tracks, but soon he decided that getting to the cover of the hills was more important than hiding their footprints in the shifting sand. Dania brought up the rear, turning frequently to look for signs of pursuit. As the sky darkened, they made their way up into the parched hills, and Dania announced that their pursuers were out of sight.

Janik called a halt and everyone fell onto the sand in exhaustion.

“We need rest,” he said, “but I’m not sure we should use your shelter, Mathas. Too easy for them to spot from a distance.”

“You could be right,” Mathas said, sounding as if he doubted it. “They’ll certainly spot an open campfire more easily. And the shelter offers a degree of protection that is not insignificant-solid walls and magically locked doors.”

“I understand,” Janik said, “and I’m not immune to the lure of a comfortable bunk and a warm fire. But if they find us during the night, I don’t like the idea of being locked inside a tiny cottage, no matter how secure it is.”

“You’d rather be able to run,” Dania said.

“Well, yes,” Janik said. “I guess I don’t believe that little cottage is completely impervious, or I’d be happier being trapped inside it. But if you start from the presumption that they’re going to break through its defenses eventually-when the spell ends in the morning, at the latest-then I don’t want to be surrounded in a small space when they do.”

“You’re right,” said Dania.

“And-” Janik was ready to escalate the conversation into a heated argument, but stopped abruptly. “I’m right?”

“Yes, Janik, I actually agree with you.”

“Well. So we’ll make camp-here, unless you think there’s a better spot nearby, Dania.”