The Way of the Sword and Gun Page 10

  She lifted her feet and set them back down. Left then right. Again and again as if to make sure the ground wouldn't disappear. She inhaled — sweet, clean air with a touch of burnt wood from a fire in the distance somewhere. That meant something intelligent enough to create a fire. Could this be my home world?

  "Don't be stupid," she whispered. There were hundreds of circles on that map. The odds that this one belonged to her people was remote. Besides, she couldn't stay here long. She had to find that code before Tommy started up the portal again.

  The longer she took, the more times he would have to use his magic to open the portal. She couldn't keep putting him at risk. Time to get moving.

  She turned around. As expected, the portal was gone, but a large, wooden house on a wide hill had taken its place. It had three sections — the middle rose four stories high while the sections on either side only rose two. Lights inside flickered — candlelight. Silhouettes passed by the windows.

  Malja crouched low in the field and slipped Viper free. She watched the house, her tensions growing. Though there appeared to be a lot of activity inside, nobody exited.

  From beyond the house, she heard sporadic drumming — muted, yet fast and harsh. Keeping low, she scurried up the hill and around the house, keeping a healthy distance from the windows. Hiding behind a tree with long strips of furry bark, she saw that the hill dropped off sharply into a valley. And in the valley, there was war.

  Every time she heard that distinct, rapid drumming, she saw flashes of orange light down below. Whatever kind of weapon produced that sound and that light was something Malja hoped never to be on the wrong side of. She heard terse commands demanding attention and injured bodies scream for help. A fiery plume exploded amongst the trees, briefly illuminating the dark valley. Hundreds of bodies scurried through the forest. It looked more like chaos down there than any attempt at strategy.

  When Malja turned back toward the house, a little girl stood in the shadows. Neither moved. Malja didn't want to scare the girl, but before she could do anything more than lift her hand to wave, the girl dashed off — all four arms, gray skin, and backwards-bending legs of her.

  With control, Malja hurried around the house. The girl-thing yelled, and the front door banged opened. More of these creatures poured out of the house.

  They scanned the area, their heads bobbing in balance with their movements, and their clothing — strips of fabric that hung like vines — flowed too. They spoke in an effortless language punctuated with trilled sounds, and they moved in a coordinated fashion. Groups of five spread out, each peering into the distance.

  Malja looked behind. The field was too open and empty to make a run. They'd see her with ease. She wanted to observe them, evaluate their aggressiveness and their fighting ability, but there was no time. Tommy would be opening a portal eventually. Besides, she had to trust him — trust that he had put her in the right spot.

  Sheathing Viper, Malja stepped into the open. "I don't want to hurt anybody," she said with arms out, her palms up.

  The creatures moved back, their surprised trills and calls sending the younger ones scrambling into the house. One creature, sporting strands of skin off its chin like a seaweed beard, squinted and leaned closer. With two hands clasped behind its back and two hands in front, it bobbed a few steps toward Malja.

  Without thinking, Malja slid her right foot back into a fighting stance and lowered her center of gravity. Her right hand reached behind and rested on Viper. Her left stretched toward the creature as a warning. The motion caused her long coat to open, and her black assault suit reflected the low light from the house.

  The creature's eyes widened as it stared at her clothing. It jumped into the air, spun around, and raised all four arms. "Ahna lo larro," it said.

  A murmur of shock rippled through the crowd. The creature said its words again and pointed at Malja. The crowd repeated the words as if by saying them out loud, the words held new meaning. And then they dropped to the ground, prostrating before her with their heads lowered in the dirt.

  Malja stood straighter and let go of Viper. None of the creatures spoke. She watched their behavior and wondered what was so special about her to cause this.

  The front door opened, and a tall version of these creatures stepped out. This one wore similar strips of clothing to the others, but these strips were patterned with gold, green, and black. It observed Malja as if unsure she was real. It waited — tense and worried. At least, Malja thought it was tense and worried. For all she knew, the expressions she tried to read meant the exact opposite on these creatures. Finally, it trilled and walked toward her with controlled grace that limited the bobbing motions.

  When it reached her, it bowed its head but not its body. "Follow," it said, over-enunciating, clearly trying to make sure it got the word right. Then it headed back toward the house.

  Malja walked behind the creature, careful to step around the prostrated ones. Inside, the house was a massive temple to the art of woodwork. Everything had been carved from wood — beautifully so. Ornate moldings, candle sconces, tables, chairs, every aspect of the house had been carved into striking images of animals Malja did not recognize and of the creatures themselves.

  More of these creatures lined the halls. When they saw Malja, they all dropped to the floor, heads pressed down. The specially dressed creature waved her onward, leading her up a wide staircase that curved around an abstract sculpture — at least, it looked abstract to Malja.

  On the fourth floor, Malja's escort stopped before a simple, wooden door and lowered to the floor. One arm gestured toward the door. "Enter, please," it struggled to say.

  Malja reached for the handle, but the door opened by itself. As she entered the large room, her boots clumping dull tones on the floorboards, she noticed the numerous books lining the walls and the rich wooden furniture taking up half the room. Another of these creatures, this one wrinkled and pale, sat behind a wide desk.

  "It is an honor to meet you," it said, straining to articulate a few words but far better at speaking than the escort.

  "Thank you," Malja said, knowing it would be better to play along than prove from the start that she wasn't whoever they thought she was.

  "I know you have little time," the old one said as it stood. "I have practiced this speech for many years, so I would be ready. Please don't ask questions because I do not understand what I am saying. I've learned these words that were prepared for me, but I do not speak your language. Please clap your hands once if you understand what I have said."

  Malja clapped her hands.

  The old one visibly shivered. Malja suspected it never thought this would happen. The old one's expression sobered and it said, "Welcome to our world, traveler. Your arrival signals the beginning of peace. When your kind first came here and asked us to protect the code, we were a young race. For generations we have passed down this speech, the code, and all of us have believed in the promise — that one day, another of the black suit would visit us and ask for the code. That day is now."

  Malja's lungs forgot to take in air.

  "The war that hurts us," the old one went on, "will now end. Those who believed will be rewarded. Those who denied will know they were wrong. Your time is short. I will give you the code and light the beacon."

  "Wait," Malja finally said. "You people got this code from someone dressed like me?"

  The old one listened closely but clearly had no idea what she had said. Malja pointed to her assault suit. "Like this?" she asked.

  The old one clapped his hands once, and the sound chilled Malja's skin. Reaching under the desk, the old one produced a piece of paper and motioned Malja closer. "This is the code. Learn it well."

  Malja looked at the paper. It consisted of three concentric circles, quartered by intersecting lines, and in each quarter was a symbol. A fifth symbol — composed from the other four — marked the center. She closed her eyes, redrew the code in her mind, then looked at the paper again. Close, but not
quite right. She tried three more times before the image in her mind matched the one on the paper without fail.

  When she walked away from the desk, the old one's shoulders drooped. "We hope we have helped save your world as you have helped to save ours. Now we can light the beacon so all in the world, those that believe and those that doubt, will all know that the world-hoppers returned. There is no need for dispute. Peace can return to us once more. Knowing this, our sacrifice will be rewarded."

  The old one shuffled its odd-shaped legs toward a tall candlestick. It took the flaming candle, raised it above its head, and in a loud voice, it said, "Salloo mala reesi!" The others in the house echoed these words, followed by those outside. There was relief in their voices — exultation, even. The old one repeated the phrase in a reverent manner and let the candle fall to the paper-littered floor.

  "Go," it said. "Leave the beacon now."

  Malja had met zealots before, but never for her. The old one stood motionless as flames spread out across the floor, up the book-laden walls, and onto the ceiling. It opened its four arms and wriggled its mouth into an attempt at a human smile. The dry wooden house crackled as the air choked with smoke.

  "Go," it said again and the flames licked the edges of his strips of cloth that served for clothing.

  Malja stepped out of the office and closed the door. Despite all the horrors she had witnessed in her life, she couldn't watch this being burn up because of its belief in her. She rested her hand on the warming wood and closed her eyes. She had seen sacrifice before but not like this. How could she ever be worthy of such a thing?

  In the hallway, she found the escort still prostrated by the doorway. Fires had ignited further down the hall. Black smoke poured out of one room at the far end.

  "You've got to get out of here," Malja said.

  The escort raised its head. "Thank you," it said and lowered its head once more.

  Malja attempted to help the creature up, to take it to safety, but it yanked its hands away. She moved in again, but the creature jumped to its feet and dashed down the hall. When it reached the room belching smoke, it dove in without hesitation.

  Though Malja understood what she had been told — that this entire house was the beacon, that these creatures had developed a religion based on a visit from one of her people, that these creatures planned to die in flames to signal this world of her arrival, of her true existence — she could not process the ideas with any sense of depth or reality. The whole thing seemed foolish to her. It was distant, like a myth told around a campfire. But the flames were real and the noxious smoke was real. The heat rose with every second she waited.

  "Damn," she said, going down the stairs two at a time.

  On every floor she saw the followers of this insanity sitting, waiting for the fire to consume them. They were placid, accepting, even happy — if their proud postures meant the same as a human's. The ceiling had become a mass of fire. Burning bits of wood dropped down, spreading the flames faster to the other floors. Yet not one creature even flinched.

  The strong smell of burning wood overpowered all other odors, and for that mercy, Malja felt thankful. She didn't want to know how these creatures smelled when cooked.

  It wasn't difficult to get out. The creatures left a clear path for her to follow. When she stepped into the clean air and felt the heat pressing at her back, she let out an anguished cry.

  It lasted just a few seconds, and though it wasn't enough to relieve the hardness in her chest, it would have to suffice. She could only think that they had died because of her, for her, and that meant she had to honor all those souls. Until she did, Malja worried she might never sleep again.

  Though she heard the crumbling of the house and the raging fire bellowing into the night, she never turned to look. She kept her eyes focused on the field. Tommy would open a portal soon. She wanted out of this world.

  That's when two vehicles on wheels raced up towards her, screeched to a halt, and four burly beasts jumped out. Each one was loaded with straps of bullets, belts with knives, and objects that could only be guns.

  Owl

  Walking through the throngs of Brother X's army, Owl tried to keep his eyes forward. They parted for him but sneered as he passed. They shouted insults and feigned attacks. Nighthowl and Bennet each walked at his shoulders while Fawbry kept close behind. Owl could hear his whimpering as they went. It didn't bother Owl. His mind had shifted into a fighting mode. All his troubles, his guilt, his fears — all had to be suspended. As Master Kee had pointed out, emotions can make clear thinking difficult, and in a fight like the coming one, he had to be clearest of all.

  He planned to walk until either he found Brother X or they attacked him for real. The longer it took, the more time he gave Malja. Unfortunately, the army had a different idea. They stopped parting for him and instead encircled his group. Still, they gave a wide berth.

  "What are they doing?" Fawbry asked.

  "They're making a ring for the fight," Nighthowl said.

  Fawbry inched away from Owl, but he had nowhere to go. The hooting and jeering from the soldiers rose in volume. Owl pulled out his sword and eased into a fighting stance. Brother X had to be around here somewhere. Looking back, Owl saw the Order wall and the sodik that had smashed the end into a heap. If he lost this fight, that wall would be leveled.

  "We can't fight yet," Fawbry said. "We need more time."

  Owl snapped his attention onto Fawbry just long enough for the man to cower. "We don't get a choice."

  "Malja needs more time," Fawbry said, and he screwed his face into a stern look. To Owl's surprise, Fawbry marched into the center of the cleared circle and raised his hands. "Listen here," he shouted. "I want to tell you something."

  The soldiers lowered their voices, curious about this unexpected event. Fawbry looked around and threw open his colorful robe. He pulled out a small book and raised it overhead.

  "This is the Book of Kryssta," he said. A flurry of fingers swiped the brows of the soldiers. A sly grin crossed Fawbry's face, and Owl nodded his encouragement.

  "This warrior," Fawbry said, waving a hand toward Owl, "is one of the greatest to have ever mastered the Way of the Sword and Gun. And like all great warriors, like hard-working soldiers such as yourselves, it is vital that we praise the brother god Kryssta before entering any combat. To do otherwise is to invite evil into our hearts. Like Kryssta tells us—" Fawbry made a show of fumbling for the right page. He read:

  Each day is a day for life

  Each day is a new birth

  When a stranger claims to know all

  Tell him you live only for each day

  He closed the book. "Let us take a moment to pray alone so as not to let the stranger claim our hearts."

  Fawbry lowered to one knee. The soldiers around all dropped to the ground and prayed silently. It was the closest thing to a service the followers of Kryssta would allow, and it devoured plenty of precious time.

  At length, the soldiers stood, as did Fawbry. He walked back to Owl and said, "That's the best I can do."

  Owl rested a hand on Fawbry's shoulder. "That was incredible. You're smarter and braver than I ever realized."

  Fawbry let out a short laugh. "Just don't tell anyone." He looked at the fighting circle as his laughter died. "It's up to you now. Good luck."

  Owl nodded and returned to his fighting stance. "Brother X," he called in a strong voice. "I challenge you."

  Owl's eyes darted from soldier to soldier. He wondered where Brother X would come from — on horse, most likely — powerful and commanding. He was wrong.

  Just before Brother X's blade would have cleaved through Owl's head, Owl saw a shadow moving on the ground. He looked up to see Brother X's crimson cloak fluttering like a crazed bird. Owl got his sword up in time to deflect the attack but the sheer force of Brother X's attack sent Owl to the ground.

  He rolled backwards and onto his feet, releasing his gun at the same time. Brother X also had his gun out, a
nd the two warriors settled into their fighting stances. The soldiers roared with excitement.

  "You fooled me. I was sure you were dead."

  "Almost," Owl said, shoving thoughts of cowardice deep within.

  "You know, we don't have to do this," Brother X said. "If you surrender, I'll spare the life of Nighthowl, Bennet, and your fancy friend here."

  "You betrayed us," Owl said, his teeth locked tight together.

  Brother X shrugged. "You can't betray something you never belonged to in the first place. I never was a real part of the Order. I had been a spy for Salia from the beginning."

  Owl lunged, but Brother X parried away his attack with a nonchalant flick of his sword. Flowing with the deflection, Owl stepped closer and spun through his attack as he had been trained. He barely had to think about it. His body just knew to come round for another strike. Brother X met this one, too, but was forced into a serious response. They locked swords.

  "You didn't have to kill him," Owl said, his taut muscles pushing his blade forward. "Chief Master wanted to create a peace."

  "When the marauding beasts and petty warlords raped and killed my parents, where was his peace?" Brother X said, breaking loose and leaping into another attack. "When I lost my brother and two of four sisters, where was Chief Master and his magicians?" He faked right, spun left, and struck hard. "Never was he there to help us."

  "Chief Master helped hundreds, thousands. If he had known, he would've been there for you, too."

  Brother X launched a flurry of attacks, spinning off every parry and returning with more crushing strikes. Owl had sparred with Brother X many times and had fought him outright once before, but the speed and ferocity of his opponent astonished him. Only the rush of adrenaline kept him from freezing up. Owl dropped low for a leg sweep, but Brother X jumped over the attack and brought the butt of his gun down onto Owl's head.