David Drake - Out of the waters

The witch laughed. "No gawkers, tonight. I thought somebody might be up on the roof-"

She gestured toward the house proper. Somebody standing on the parapet of the second floor could look down onto the back of this garden, though he wouldn't be able to see more than possibly the top of Alphena's head. Anna was more visible, even though she was sitting down.

"-watching."

She spat into a rose bed. "They're welcome to, if they like. Anybody who wants to try this theirself has my blessing."

Anna turned her head quickly. Alphena followed her eyes and caught a glimpse of a female figure. It faded like fog into the peach tree.

"Would ye like a closer look at this, girlie?" Anna snarled at the tree. "If not, then ye'd better keep your pointy little nose out of my way!"

The garden was as still as street noise allowed it to be; the peach nymph didn't reappear. Anna grasped the rooster by its legs. She hunched, holding the bird out at arm's length, and rocked to her feet.

"It's time if we're going to do it," she said with a lopsided smile. A small knife had appeared in her right hand.

"Yes, of course," Alphena said. She was no longer gripping the sword hilt. Patting her hands together, she was pleased to notice that her palms were dry. "What would you like me to do?"

"You just stand there, dearie," Anna said with a grim chuckle. "If this goes well, I'll summon something to take you to wherever her ladyship is. But girl?"

She paused until Alphena looked up and met her eyes.

"I can't do anything about it after you leave here," Anna said. "There's dangers, maybe worse ones than I know. And what I know is bad enough. That's for you alone to deal with, and I'm sorry to say that."

"Yes, of course," Alphena said brusquely. "I don't expect others to fight my battles, mistress."

Anna unexpectedly chuckled. "Spoken like a true officer," she said. "Line troopers have better sense."

Before Alphena could respond-she had no idea of how to respond to that-Anna resumed chanting. Without changing the rhythm of the incantation, she brought her hands together and slit the rooster's throat. The bird continued to thrash as its blood gurgled into the glazed bowl.

Drops splashed the animals molded onto the bowl's rim. It seemed to Alphena that a mist was starting to form.

David Drake

Out of the Waters-ARC

Anna wiped her knife on the cock's feathers, then flung its drained body to the ground. Her voice had become more resonant. Alphena couldn't be sure, but she thought the words of the incantation were the same as those she had heard earlier in the night.

The blood settled at the bottom of the bowl. Anna was looking into it, so Alphena glanced down as well. The moon was reflected in the black fluid.

The garden became dark. Alphena heard shouts and in the distance a wail of despair. Anna's voice had slowed and deepened into thunder through which other sounds sank.

Alphena looked at the sky in surprise. The stars still sparkled, but the full moon had vanished-except for its reflection in blood. Anna continued to chant.

The bowl was a window into another sky. A mist separated Alphena and the witch from the city outside. Anna's lips moved. Instead of hearing sound, Alphena felt the world tremble.

The reflected moon swelled and blurred and suddenly coalesced into the figure of a coldly beautiful woman glaring at her with a furious expression. The garden was still, but a wind whipped the woman's garments.

The woman held in either hand the leashes attached to a pair of three-headed vultures. When the birds opened their long beaks, their tongues quivered. Alphena heard no sound except the surrounding thunder.

The woman and the vultures faded into pale light. The gryphon on the rim of the bowl shrieked and flapped its wings tentatively. It twisted its eagle head around to stare at Alphena.

Light filled the bowl; Alphena could no longer see blood or the glazed pottery, just the four animals hanging in the air. Three-the chimaera, basilisk, and mantichore-groomed themselves, but the gryphon seemed to be struggling to break free of unseen bonds.

Alphena thought she could make out Anna's form on the other side of the window, but she wasn't sure; the light was swelling. An image formed within it: a series of ring islands nested within one another like ripples in a pond spreading from a dropped stone.

The islands sharpened into focus. They were forested, but crystal buildings glittered on crags. The city of the vision in the theater spread along the shore of a deep bay.

Mother's been taken to Atlantis. But how will I get there myself?

The gryphon called in high-pitched triumph. Either it was growing or Alphena was shrinking. Atlantis hung in the unimaginable distance, though she still saw it clearly.

Anna and the garden vanished, but Alphena and the gryphon stood on solid air. The creature's body was much larger than that of the lion it resembled; it was more the size of an ox.

It lifted a birdlike foreleg and began cleaning the gaps between its toes, extending its great claws as it did so. It watched Alphena with eyes as bright as spearpoints. Her hand hovered close to her swordhilt, but she didn't draw the weapon.

The gryphon lowered its paw. "Well?" it said, speaking in a haughty tenor voice. "Will you get on my back and ride, or shall I carry you to Poseidonis in my talons?"

It laughed, opening a hooked beak that could have snapped the head off a calf-or a man. Despite the shrill overtones, the creature's voice reminded Alphena of the way Lenatus and Pulto discussing their army service.

"You'll be more comfortable on my back, I think," it said. "But it's all one with me, mistress. I will serve you as you wish."

"I…," Alphena said. "I'll ride you, then."

She stepped close to the gryphon; it had a warm, animal odor, strong but not unpleasant. It hunched down, lowering its withers and folding its feathered wings tightly against its torso.

"You'll need to sit just below my neck, I'm afraid," the creature said. "If I'm to fly, that is, and there's not much point in this excercise if I don't."

Alphena put both hands on the gryphon's neck. The fur was as stiff as hog bristles, though the feathers into which it blended had a silky texture.

This isn't going to be comfortable, she thought. She grinned wryly. But there may be worse to come.

She vaulted aboard. The scabbard slapped her left leg, but she got her seat easily enough.

Alphena straightened. The gryphon rose to its feet and stretched like a cat before looking back at her. "Hold tight, mistress," it said. "If you fall, it will be a long way."

It laughed again; not cruelly, but with a hard carelessness. "A very long way," it added.

"All right," Alphena said, digging her fingers into the fur. It was long enough to give her a grip, though not a very good one.

What am I going to do when we reach Poseidonis?

The gryphon sprang upward with the strength of all four legs. Its wings beat with a fierce suddenness, more like the release of a catapult than that of a bird flying.

The ground fell away into a gray blur. The islands of Atlantis hung in the sky, seemingly as far as they ever had been.

But first we have to reach the city.

Because there were seven slaves to be freed at one time and Varus knew that other slaves would want to watch, he had suggested that his father hold the manumission ceremony in the courtyard instead of in his office. Saxa stood with his back to the central pool. His chief lictor was to his left holding one of the rods which, bound around the helve of his axe, were the symbol of his authority.

Varus and Tardus were off to the right side, witnesses rather than participants in the process. The recording secretary sat cross-legged in front of them.