The Bone Mask Trilogy: (An Epic Fantasy Boxed Set), page 96
“You’re not disappointed?”
He set Ain down. “Sands, no! So the first strike didn’t work, there’s always time for another.”
Ain drew in a shuddering breath. “Thank you. I hope everyone feels the same.”
Jedda placed a hand on his shoulder. “They do.”
“I haven’t seen Dadel or Majid. Did they...survive?”
His face darkened. “Yes. They’re here somewhere. Not all were so fortunate, we were lucky to escape when we did. It seems nothing can stop them.”
Ain nodded. “I know.” He looked over the crowd. “Who’s out there then?”
“We’ve sent runners, so we’ll know soon enough.”
“Western Clan, surely.”
“It seems likely.”
“More trouble,” Ain said.
“Best not to wish for it, lad.” Jedda wiped his brow. “But I think you’re right.”
“Perhaps we’ll discover why they never came?”
“Could do.” He paused. “The envoy seems a patient young man. He’s a little like you, that way.”
Ain pressed his lips together. Perhaps. But that didn’t appear to satisfy some of the Cloud, who’d given him suspicious looks since his return. “Not everyone would agree.”
“Admittedly, some resent that you returned with the envoy but don’t worry about them, lad. Most are impressed that you found the Shrine and lived. They are more determined, now that they know it didn’t work, to try a new approach.”
“Most?”
“Others believe the Sands caused you to fail because we sent you with a Warrior, that we broke tradition.”
“How predictable,” he muttered.
“Ain?”
“It doesn’t matter. Look.” He pointed. The first camels crested the dune and paused before heading down the slope, riders tall against the sky. Even from a distance it was clear. Western Clan. The Restless Ones. They rode with Cloud runners jogging beside them.
Had darklings driven them across the desert? Were the Clans surrounded, being driven together by the fell creatures? How did the Snakes fare? Would Schan even be able to reach them?
“Come on, lad. Raila will want you to hear whatever old Fai has to say.”
“She will?”
“Of course.” He grinned. “Get used to being included. Everyone will know your name soon.”
“For the right reasons?”
“I believe so.” Jedda led him to the pavilion, its flaps attended by a pair of guards. She stood before the entry and nodded to Ain and Jedda as she spoke to Kafik, whose expression was dark. “I hope they’ve left whatever problems they carry behind,” he was saying.
“Let’s wait and see, shall we? I believe there is still safety in numbers.”
Kafik continued in a lower voice, and soon Raila was frowning too.
The first riders were moving through the crowd, answering glad cries. They shared greetings as Fai, the Elder, moved into view, flanked by his two sons. ‘Old’ Fai, as Jedda said, was an understatement. The man’s face was so wrinkled that his eyes were almost hidden, and only a thin ring of white hair remained on the back of his head.
His sons were grey but somehow their father appeared more sprightly. The last time Fai had visited, he’d been smiling, but now he wore no smile.
Raila greeted him warmly and whisked the three into her tent with a complete lack of ceremony. Even Fai himself appeared surprised. Kafik signalled for Jedda and Ain to follow. Ain took a breath as he stepped inside the large tent and found a seat, a rare item of wood. Again, Raila handed out water and made introductions. “I believe Fai, you and your sons have not met Ain? He was younger when you last visited the Cloud.”
“He must have been young indeed.” Fai smiled, the expression mirrored by his sons. Each man was busy removing blades from their sheathes on their arms, setting bows in the corner. Their leather vests and tan pants were marked with three vertical lines. Restless as the wind.
Ain bowed his head from his sitting position.
Raila continued after glancing at Kafik. “Fai, Wajam and Palan, I believe you arrive at a time of great opportunity for the Medah.”
Fai scratched at white stubble on his cheek. “Is that why you rushed us inside, then? You know how we feel about the Search, old girl. And we have news of our own, you know.”
Raila shook her head, at herself it seemed to Ain. “Of course, I have become pre-occupied of late. It seems we each face a darkness – you too, have been driven from your home?”
“Driven is right.” Fai gestured outside. “We have many of the clan with us now, Raila.” His sons’ faces were grim. “Those who survived.”
Raila lowered her cup. “Death in shadow and bone?”
“You too?”
“We too.”
“That is grave news, we had hoped for help.”
“You have no idea as to what they are?”
“Not truly. But something has woken from beneath the Sands. Something old, I wouldn’t wonder. Our arrows could not touch them, but they still drew blood, dark and swift, as well I think you know. They hunt at night and they drove us from our dunes in a matter of days.”
“And they follow,” Wajam added.
Fai gave a short nod. “We never know which night they will strike but we always lose people and still no way to drive them off. We need your help.”
Raila sat back. “I am sorry for your many losses, Fai. It seems we face crisis upon crisis. The darklings, as Ain calls them, attack us during the daylight hours also.”
He rubbed his stubble on his chin. “You’re heading for the Wards?”
“Yes.” She hesitated. Kafik gave her a look. “We are. But this crisis has brought opportunity too. Ain here has found and activated the Sea Shrine but it did not defeat the Anaskari.”
Fai whistled as he gave Ain another look, clearly impressed. “That is momentous, but not a crisis of opportunity, surely?”
Ain looked away. How quickly his cheeks flushed.
His Elder nodded. “Only so much as we now also know that the Anaskari face the threat of invasion from a Renovar force with serious chance of victory.”
Kafik slapped the table. “A perfect time to strike. We are considering sending Schan of the Snakes home with an escort, in the hopes he can rally a force.”
Raila gave him a look. “But in light of Fai’s news, perhaps not. After all, there is no guarantee of success, Kafik. Yet beyond the Wards, who knows what we may find? Safety? Respite?”
He shrugged. “Nor is there ever a guarantee. But it is a chance.”
Fai was silent a moment. His sons exchanged looks when the hush stretched. Raila only waited but Jedda shifted beside Ain. He watched Fai for any hint of what the old Elder thought, but the man’s face gave nothing away.
Finally, “I am ashamed to admit such news might tempt me into action once again, were not my people in such peril. These Dunestalkers or ‘darklings’ – which they may well be – will bring us all enough death. We are setting up camp now, if you would accompany me to see something? We have a survivor.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.” He led them from Raila’s tent and across the sand, his tread firm. Ain hung back to speak to Jedda.
“If someone survived a darkling attack, I wonder if they are Pathfinder?”
“Why so, lad?”
“Because I...I might be able to confuse the darklings, by doing something to the paths.”
“By the Sands, tell Raila.”
“I will, but it is nothing in the end.” He shrugged. “I cannot stop them.”
“One thing at a time.”
In the makeshift Western camp, camels were being picketed in neat lines and tan tents pegged down against a rising wind that whipped sand across their backs. Fai took them directly to a small, black tent set aside from a larger pavilion. Stacks of possessions already stood in rows between tent pegs, covered by treated hides. Had the Western Clan moved everything and everyone?
The Elder opened a flap and paused. “He may succumb to the attack at any time.”
“Who lies within?” Raila asked.
“Eyali. One of my nephews.”
She paused a moment. “I am sorry to hear that also.”
“He saved many lives with his act. Be warned, this is not dignified.”
Ain followed Jedda inside, crowding in with Fai, Raila and Kafik. Fai’s sons remained outside. The coppery scent of blood filled the space and a Warrior lay before them, his sword pinning one side of a stained sheet that covered his body. Fai removed the cloth gently.
Ain flinched.
Eyali’s skeleton had burst through the skin at every joint. A bloody pink knee and shin protruded from ragged skin and wet-looking flesh. His fingers were knobbly bones and even a rib was visible beneath his shirt. Worst of all was the face – as if half the flesh had melted away, or been peeled back from one side.
A rasping breathing filled the tent.
“How?” Raila’s voice barely broke the hush.
“We have no idea. Eyali didn’t fall at once. Whatever the Dunestalker did came on slowly in his case. Others died instantly, their flesh stripped away. Yet others...erupted in a burst of blood.”
“Can he hear us?”
“Perhaps. He spoke of them, before.”
Raila leant closer. “Eyali, it is Elder Raila from the Cloud. Can you tell us anything that might save your people?”
Ain leant after her, straining his ears.
“Bone,” the man breathed, his lips barely twitching.
The whole tent waited as he struggled to swallow. Fai held a cup for his nephew, trickling water into the man’s mouth. Blood spread from his wounds when he swallowed.
“Heart...of...bone. Heart,” he repeated then fell silent, his chest labouring.
“We fan the flames of his suffering,” Fai said.
Raila motioned for everyone to leave the dark tent.
Outside, Ain shivered in the sun. He moved away from the group, ignoring a word from Jedda as he stared at the dunes without seeing them.
Chapter 26.
In the dim hideaway Sofia accepted Osani, placing his cold, smooth surface against her face and impeding the scent of wilted vegetables that drifted from Emilio’s pot. As ever, there was no real sense of Osani turning to her, he was simply a faint presence.
But at least it eased the growing ache.
“What will we do?” she asked her father. In the background, Alcina hummed to herself.
He straightened where he sat beside her, Argeon muted in the dim light. “I have come to realise, all my attempts at guile or force are as nothing to Osani, he simply does not hear. Instead, we will ask Argeon to help me strike a new arrangement with Osani. Something temporary.”
“That is possible?”
“Yes.” Had he hesitated for but a moment before he answered?
“But not before?”
“I must offer something I had not thought to offer. Nor wished to offer.”
“What?”
“A Sacrifice.”
Just as Tantos claimed. Her brother’s words echoed in her mind:
The Greatmasks require a Sacrifice. It’s part of what sustains them, and lends them such knowledge. Generations may pass before it’s needed, but at my and Father’s estimation, were I – or you – to bear children, one of them would have had to pay the price.
Her hand rose to Osani. “Tantos told me. Our children. Is that what you mean?”
“Yes. That may have been possible.”
Sofia straightened. “How could you hide that from me?” She struggled to keep her voice even. After his promises on the river, how could he continue to hide things – important things – from her?
“I could not tell you all. How could I, Petal? Nor was it ever certain; neither you nor Tantos were guaranteed to witness a Sacrifice. The masks do not often seek the very young, for there is more to absorb from those with a long life of knowledge and experience. Your children would have been adults before it was to happen and if the Gods were kind, you would have already lived a full life before any Sacrifice were required.”
“You promised not to keep secrets from me any longer.”
“We might have spoken earlier, during our flight, perhaps.”
He was right; there had been few opportunities and none so safe as at present. “True.” She sighed. “Then what of this arrangement with Osani?”
“I will offer myself in the stead of House Cavallo and when we have rid the city of the invaders, I will complete the Sacrifice.”
She stood. “No.”
Emilio paused his stirring and Alcina ceased her humming.
“It is the only way,” Father said, his voice calm, resigned. “We cannot hope to succeed with only Argeon.”
“There must be something else we can try.”
“I see no other option, Petal.”
“I will ask Argeon.”
“Ask him what?”
“Please.” She removed Osani and handed the Greatmask to her father. “Let me try.”
“Very well,” he said. “Only, do not hope for too much. I will attempt to reach Osani again.”
She placed Argeon on her face and his attention swept across her, a slight pulse of an acknowledgement, more than Osani ever afforded her. But Argeon was clearly distracted. The hint of many other masks, most young and very few truly old, were much on his mind, even as he cloaked the hideaway from the invaders.
Sofia kept her voice low. “Argeon, can you help us yet further?”
A flicker.
She focused on herself, picturing her commanding blue-cloaked invaders back, Osani on her face, but nothing changed. She altered the image to a conversation between her and Osani, picturing the mask glowing, but still Argeon offered no assistance.
Was she even explaining what she needed correctly?
Father was still engrossed with Osani; he hadn’t answered a question from Emilio about whether he knew where any herbs might be hidden away.
She whispered. “Argeon, is Tantos with you?”
A long moment of silence.
Then finally his voice, soft.
Sister – still you drag my ghost up from the bone.
“We need help and I can’t explain to Argeon. I don’t have any choice,” she said. “Our ancestors, those who stayed in the Old Land, have attacked.”
I see. Trouble indeed. A pause. His voice grew louder, as if he was waking from a deep sleep. But not my trouble, I am apart from it all now.
“That doesn’t mean you cannot help us.” She whispered again. “Ask Argeon how I can use Osani. Please.”
Tantos sighed. A moment.
Sofia clenched a fist. It had to be possible. The Houses bound each mask to their own bloodline but hadn’t Tantos used Osani at one point?
You may be able to offer Osani something in exchange for his help. Tantos’ voice returned with suddenness.
“Yes? Tell me, Tantos.”
You can offer him death; that is what he seeks, that which House Cavallo have long fought.
“You mean...”
Yes, his own. Osani is weary.
Sofia blinked. “But, why?”
Eternity is a difficult concept for humanity to conceive, I suspect. Awareness unending is a terrible thought, is it not? I imagine that nothing truly changes, or even matters, under such circumstances.
“That doesn’t make sense; are you saying the Greatmasks wish to die because they are bored?”
After a fashion perhaps – but only Osani. Since my death I have come to understand more of just how different each of the Greatmasks are. I imagine even Father has some knowledge of this, having spent so long with Argeon. Doubtless he has yet to share all he knows?
“This isn’t about Father.”
There was a sense that Tantos offered a wry smile. Of course. Well, let me simply say that Argeon is a Collector. He seeks knowledge on all things. The more Sacrifices that occur through the ages, the better as far as he is concerned. He watches and considers. That old Rat, King Seto? He is even now struggling with Chelona, who is always restless and eager to act. Chelona misses life more than anything and all those who’ve come before Seto have had to fight her desire to return.
“Wait, Seto found the Lost Mask? He’s alive?”
And she seeks to return to life. He toils in the Celnos Mountains as you and father sit in your Mascare bolthole.
“Can you help him?”
No, I cannot.
“But surely –”
Sofia, I am not Argeon. He does not do my bidding – I exist for him, as part of his greater whole, do you understand? I exist insomuch as he allows me to exist. Argeon does not care about Oseto or even Chelona, save to observe her. To learn, to see what new knowledge he may devour.
“Fine. I’ll save Seto myself.”
Straight after you banish those pesky Ecsoli, I take it?
“Stop,” she hissed.
Very well. Just remember that Osani wishes an end. I do not know how this might be, but Argeon is very curious. He will speak with Osani on this – and perhaps then Osani will answer Father.
“Is that how you were able to reach him? Before?” Sofia asked.
Farewell once more, Sister. Perhaps we will speak again – stay safe.
And then he was gone.
Sofia turned back to the others. Emilio was still at the tiny stove and Alcina had stretched out on the cot, drying clothes hanging from the ceiling between them. Father had leant against the wall, still attempting to reach Osani, it seemed.
She crossed the room. “Father?”
He did not respond. She touched his shoulder and still he did not stir. A faint glow rose from Osani and she stepped back. Finally! Was Tantos correct? In her hands a sense of...something, awareness passing between masks.
How long would such a new arrangement take?
She joined Emilio, who replaced the lid on his pot. “Is everything well?”
“I think Father has been able to reach Osani.”
“Good news at last.”
Sofia nodded, even as her shoulders slumped. “I only hope it is enough.”
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