Shadowkill sq-3, page 28
part #3 of Shadith's quest Series
He knelt beside the dead man and sang a Going-home for him.
We drink from different rivers now.
O stranger, O enemy
We always have.
Surprised from life
Your heartsoul dances on a dry plateau
Cries out to me: Why?
O stranger, O enemy
I do not know.
Loudly your voice calls:
You sent me
Show me the way.
You leap past the moon
You run among the stars
You rush to me crying out
Bring me rest
I hear you
O stranger, O enemy
My hands draw the double spiral
Draw it in the air
Remember the spiral
O stranger, O enemy
Let your feet remember and run it
Look neither to the right nor to the left
Hoz’zha-dayaka lies before you
Garden of the Blessed
Run, then rest
O stranger, O enemy
Do not let anger snare your feet
Hold you from the blessed
Go quickly and do not remember your death
Or he who gave it unasked
May Shizhehoyu Father of all Bless you
And give you rest.
’Gemla Mask hovered over the dead man, drawing the spirit from his body, then danced ahead of the wild-eyed ghost, teasing him on and on until the ghost ran without prodding, ran and forgot what was, drew ahead of ’Gemla and vanished.
##
Kikun stirred, blinked, got creakily to his feet.
With the Going-home closed out, the weight of the dead man was off his shoulders. The thing before him was only rapidly spoiling meat; the sooner they got rid of it, the better.
Rose looked up as he wandered into the inner office. The minicorder was sucking up data. It didn’t need her, her hands were limp on her thighs, a sheen of sweat was drying on her face. “You’re supposed to be watching.”
“Jadii-Gevas watches.”
“What?”
“Watch is being kept. Don’t worry.”
“One of your gods?”
Kikun blinked at her. “Say, one of my ghost brothers.” She looked wary, tapped restlessly at her thighs. “If it works.”
“Want me to start cleaning away our traces?”
“Don’t bother. You’d have to burn the place down to thwart the forensic machines the lice are bound to use. Even then…” She flipped a hand, dropped it back. “With luck, they won’t find him before we’re gone. After that, who cares?”
##
Fighting grime accumulated over the life of the building, they wrestled a window open on the third floor, flung him out.
It was like throwing a log, he was that stiff; he fell like a log, landed on the edge of the wharf, teetered there for a long moment. A gust of wind caught in his rucked-up jacket, swayed him just enough to tumble him into the bay. The splash he made was swallowed by the other night noises and he sank quickly out of sight.
Rose shivered, jerked the window down, ignoring the squeal it made in its slides. “Let’s get out of here. I need sleep and a bath before I start getting ready for the Game.
7
Autumn Rose lifted the mask, dropped it over her head, and adjusted the eyeholes so she could see without difficulty. It wasn’t actually a mask, but a headsman’s cowl in soft thick velvet, long enough to fall in graceful folds over her shoulders. She leaned closer to the mirror, adjusting the folds to leave the deep vee of her dress uncovered and the necklace of rough crystal and knotted silver wire.
Kikun moved into the mirror field.
Rose gasped, twitched, then had to rearrange the hood folds. “Z’ Toyff, Kuna!”
He grinned at her. “You look marvelous, Rose.”
“Sss!” She smoothed her hands down her sides, the black sychoura clinging softly to her palms. “Magical. Yesss.”
After a last inspection, she straightened her shoulders and went out.
8
The Mewa Room had eight sides and seven doors. Six were doors to secure-suites for the Players. The High Vaar went home for bed.
The seventh was the exit.
The room was rich with dark woods and green velvet, a green-on-beige rug, rich red-brown wood paneling. There was a deep glow from crystal lamps on the walls and the massive chandelier hanging above the Vagnag table.
Low benches set against the walls between the doors were piled with green and gold cushions.
Dasuttras were arranged like flowers among the cushions, faces, bosoms, and arms printed with flowerforms in the pink dyes of ancient custom, long hair down and gleaming under chainmetal caps set with moonstones and jasper, citrine and turquoise, peridot and aquamarine, semiprecious gems catching the light like drops of colored oil. In one corner two Dasuttras were playing flute and lute, unobtrusive wallpaper sounds.
Autumn Rose walked in and felt her soul expand. This was her realm, hers again. She belonged here. If she’d needed that little extra bit of confidence, the room gave it to her.
Three men stood beside the table talking in low voices, two hooded, the third, Jao juhFeyn.
He crossed to her, held out a silver brooch, a full-blown rose on a circle. “Autumn Rose.”
As she pinned it on, Jao stepped back, gestured. “Sun-hawk.”
A tall paunchy man nodded. His brooch was a raptor on a rayed circle.
“Hiu-shark.”
The second man inclined his head. His brooch was a leaping shark on a plain circle.
One by one the others came, each by his separate door, received his brooch and was introduced by his use-name. Snowcat. Tanduk-viper. Direwolf.
The last man was tall and solid, a crackle to him when he moved. His brooch was a barracuda arching openmouthed across a silver circle. When he saw Rose, he jerked his head up, turned to juhFeyn. “A woman?”
“You object?”
“If I did?”
“You’re free to leave.”
“I see.” He shrugged, pinned the brooch on, and stood waiting for juhFeyn to seat them.
9
Kikun squatted in the corner and watched the Players roll for order. He smiled when he saw that Rose got the lead; it’s where she wanted to be.
Grandmother Ghost pinched his ear. Get your mind on why you’re here, lazy boy.
He forgot about the game and looked at each of the men.
Oozing out of the wall, feathers rustling, brushing against him, small distracting tickles, Gaagi bent over him, whispered in his ear:
This is catalog of men.
Sunhawk: the High Vaar Tidak Beruba
Hiushark: Overleader of the Metug Pirates
Tanduk: Vaarlord of Haemunda Pamina
Snowcat: Zly Zlostin, the Vamcac of Dama’tvedd
Direwolf: Attata Marteau, exec of Cazar Company
Barracuda: Enfilik Abrusso, Grand Chom of the Mimishay Foundation, a Power in Omphalos
Gaagi came whirling out of the wall, leaping high into the air, landed on the table, shook his behind in Barracuda’s face. Xumady giggled, dived from the dark, and joined Raven on the table, doing a Mock-Shock Dance, a satiric curse on the target. They finished with a howl and a swirl and dissolved into the dark.
Kikun ignored them and watched Barracuda.
The Omphalite was angry. Every time he looked at Rose he clenched his gut. He was going to go after her any way he could. Kikun smiled. Good. That was stupid and it was likely to break him fast. Yes. The sooner the better.
##
The game started. The fine blonde hairs on Rose’s forearms shimmered in the light from the chandelier as she dealt the cards.
##
At the end of the first Chapter, she was a net winner, having avoided the Grid for the moment, lost two Pen wagers but won the Holse.
Despite his irritation, Barracuda played cautiously; he won one table wager, lost the other, came close to breaking even.
Sunhawk played a meticulous game, had fair cards but bad combinations. That didn’t seem to bother him. He was deeply content, his mind humming with the calcs that let him finesse a small win.
Hiushark was a plunger though he kept the lid on until he had the measure of the other players.
Tanduk was a fusser, but either his intuition snapped to with every card or he could beat a kephalos at calcs. He spread his bets over the number grid in carefully plotted patterns and ignored the Holse during the first Chapters.
Snowcat was slow, refused to be pushed; he played his cards with heavy slaps, threw the dice with a force that nearly took them off the table. He played the Holse and the Pen, ignored the Grid until the last Chapter before Break.
Direwolf played quickly, spread his bets on Grid, Pen and Holse, depended on instinct for the proportions.
##
The play was slow at first, the Players feeling each other out, setting down their personal minimums.
Black feathers brushed around Autumn Rose, black scales glittered over her head. Her cards were good, her throws brought fine combinations. Gaagi was her Luck, though she didn’t know it. Kikun could feel her confidence growing, but she kept her caution until she knew the other Players and had a feel for the flow of the game, then held back still until the Break.
Kikun squatted in his corner, bored to stupor. He didn’t play gambling games, he liked watching them even less. There was no talking, no witty or even unwitty exchanges to distract him from the soporific slap-click of the play.
His NO-SEE-ME ratcheted as high as it would go, he dozed, confident no one could discover him. He knew the man now, the target. Now all they had to do was take him. All I have to do, he dreamed, yes, Rose is out of it. I will take him. When the time comes.
He shifted from the squat until he was sitting with his back against the wall, let his eyes droop, and slept.
10
The stirring for the first Break woke Kikun.
The Players moved to the tables, filled plates with finger-food, handing these to the nearest Dasuttra to hold for them, pointing out what they chose to drink and waiting while Dasuttras poured these liquids into the special glasses juhFeyn provided, delicate flutes with angled glass straws so they could drink through the mouth slits of their cowls.
Kikun got to his feet, slid around to the eighth wall and collected a glass of wine, retreated to his corner where he sat sipping and watching the Players circle round each other trying to find some way to pry information out of the others without revealing anything about themselves. The idea of that snoopdance was mildly amusing, the actuality was boring.
##
Direwolf wandered over to Rose. “Autumn Rose,” he said, sucking on his straw. “It’s a name that resonates.”
“Oh?”
“There was a game on Cazarit some decades ago. A woman who was also Autumn Rose played in the Prime seat. Blonde woman. Attractive. Very. Good player. Very good. Stylish.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Stylish. Had a way with the cards. Never forgot it.”
“Ah.”
“Going to be an interesting game, once it gets started.”
“Ah.”
He raised his glass to her, the straw tinkling against the sides, then went strolling off.
##
Barracuda stood close to his door, his eyes fixed on Rose. Kikun winced at the malice steaming off the man.
Grandmother Ghost pinched his arm and muttered in his ear: Black bile man, he stinks, baby. You watch him, you hear? He’s up to something and it’s nothing good, you hear? Listen to your ol’ gramma. You get over there. Stand in his shadow, baby. You let him get away he’ll wreck everything, you hear me?
Gaagi danced behind Barracuda, great black beak threatening the man, black scales glittering, wing feathers shuddering around him.
Abruptly, Gaagi froze.
Then he beckoned urgently to Kikun.
Kikun set, his glass down, slipped around to stand behind the man.
Barracuda took a babi slin from the plate the Dasuttra held, ate it, held out his hand to the other attendant; she cleaned it with a lightly scented cloth. “That woman,” he murmured. “Who is she? Why was she invited to this game?”
“You haven’t heard?” The kneeling Dasuttra (a very young, very lovely girl) looked up at him, her eyes wide, glowing. “Ah, Senhuan, she is accursed of god and blessed by the Lady. She has won thirteen days running.”
“That seems… unusual.”
“No, Senhuan.” The Dasuttra at his side had a deeper voice. She was older, surer in her beauty, sure enough to venture a small contradiction. “Jao juhFeyn certifies her, she is blessed by Luck, not by her fingers.”
“Yes, Senhuan,” the kneeling Dasuttra said, words coming out in a rush, “I have heard a woman was cured of muteness by the touch of her dress and the ringing in a man’s ears went away and another dug in his garden and found a treasure someone had buried there.” She looked over her shoulder at the other Players, leaned closer until she was nearly touching his long black robe. “It is said High Ones required her presence. The highest of the High.”
Barracuda made a slicing gesture and the girl shut her mouth. He tapped her cheek, fished in his sleeve and set a gold emu between her lips. He dropped another emu in the plate. “Leave me,” he said and waited till they moved off, then he swung round and pushed his door open.
Kikun followed him.,
There was a short foyer, then a small but luxurious room, identical to the one Rose had. Barracuda crossed to a table with a black case on it, punched a code into the case’s lock, and opened it.
A com. Shielded.
Kikun dropped to his hands and knees, scooted under the table.
He could hear the soft patter of a keypad as Barracuda entered another code, then waited, fingers tapping an irregular impatient rhythm on the tabletop.
“Black House.” A man’s voice, a light musical tenor. Barracuda tapped a second code.
“Tinggal here.” Another voice. Deeper, rougher.
“I need a team to pick up a woman.”
“When and where?”
“Day or so. Tos Tous. Kipuny Shimmery.”
“That’s Truceground. We could be dispossessed if we break truce.”
“She’s offworld.”
Silence from the com.
More tapping from Barracuda’s fingers, speeding up as the silence stretched out. After another few breaths, he swore softly, said, “You know who I am.”
“Yes. But you’re only one. I answer to the whole Council.”
“I see. There’re crowds outside this place. The woman is a Luck Piece, that’s what I’m told, the Draw. Send the team. They needn’t come onto the Shimmery grounds, they can merge with the crowd, no one will notice them. As soon as she’s clear, they can take her.”
“You’ll mark her?”
“Don’t need to. Crowd’ll mark her for them.”
“Yes. Anyone you prefer?”
“Sul Purgis is available to head them?”
“Yes.”
“Let him choose. I want her untouched, with her full vigor on tap. You understand me?”
“Quite.”
“I’ll join you in say… four days. Out.”
Whistling breathily, Barracuda returned the pad to its slips and shut the case. Leaving it on the table, he strolled out, hands clasped behind him.
Kikun scurried after him, vibrating with anger.
Grandmother Ghost waited for him in the corner. Her outline was sharper, her colors stronger than they’d been in months.
Look at him, baby. Monster. You know what he wants to do to her, don’t you? Look at him look at her. I curse him, head to toe. May his feet crack open and rot. May the hair on his legs grow so long and thick he trips on it and people laugh like fools saying see the beast, see the stupid hairy beast. May his knees turn to stone and crumble when he moves, may he know pain without end. May his thing wither and fall of may the rot enter his body and grow upward till it meets the rot in his brain…
Kikun tuned her out. He was sick with anger, but curses were futile things; the only one Grandmother Ghost’s curses worked on was him. He didn’t know what to do. Rose had forgotten him and he couldn’t remind her without bringing himself into focus for too many of the others in here. Play had already gone on three hours, the next break would come after the tenth Chapter. Yes. Another three hours. Maybe. Unless play slowed. She’d have to leave then, comfort stop. Surely her bladder would force that. Did she drink?
Grandmother, he mindshouted, quiet!
Grandmother the Lael-Lenox subsided to mutters, pinched him for his lack of proper courtesy to his elders. What? What is it baby? What do you want?
Did Rose drink anything during the break? I don’t mean just hold the glass, I mean really drink.
Yes yes, that’s smart of you baby. Yes. Two glasses of wine. That should hit her kidneys hard not so long from now.
He settled back in his corner, arms crossed on his knees, and watched the game go on.
Gaagi’s black wings fluttered about her and the cards came well for her, the dice came through again and again.
He could feel her feeling the flow. She began to push the game, her wagers challenges to the others, she played Holse and Grid and Pen with machine speed and sureness, reading the odds, running the calcs, everything in her coalescing for this Game.
She won.
She lost some of the table stakes, but won the Holse again and again.
Her pale skin shimmered in the glow from the chandelier, the fine blonde hairs on her arms were curved streaks of light. There was a power in her that the others felt. They couldn’t see Gaagi’s wings and glittering scales, but they felt them.
Kikun’s anger faded into boredom again as the play went on and on.
