The Killing Song Part 12

She said something to Kobus, then strode off behind Hona. Geth didn't listen to what she told the warrior or even watch her go. There was a stone close by, and he seated himself on it, rubbing his temples with the fingers of one hand and trying to ignore Kobus's murmured conversations with the other warriors. He would have killed for a tankard of ale. Even orcish ale. Unfortunately, all of the ale that had survived the growth of the horde would be left behind at the Sharvat when they marched. For the duration of their march, the horde would drink only water or gaeth'ad brewed to restore flagging strength.

He hoped House Deneith never decided to adopt some of the orcish practices for the Blademarks. It would make an already grim job even worse.

"Geth?"

He looked up. The warrior who had been the first to offer him ale in the camp stood before him, nervously exchanging glances with Kobus. Geth had learned his name-he tried to remember it. "Pog?" he said.

The warrior looked pleased. He stepped closer and, with a stilted accent and a look of concentration that suggested he was repeating words he didn't really understand, said, "I ... message. You ... meet Batul. Follow Pog now." He thumped his chest and gestured toward the rear of the horde. "Follow!" he repeated proudly.

A meeting with Batul? Geth was on his feet again in an instant. Ekhaas should have been here, but it was too late for that. "Yes! Yes, I'll follow you!" he said, then repeated himself more slowly as confusion crossed Pog's face. "Geth follow Pog."

Kobus's voice rumbled at the smaller warrior, and Pog spoke to him quickly in Orc. Geth put his hand on Wrath and listened in. Pog's reply to Kobus included more detail than his broken instructions to Geth-there was a thick stand of trees just beyond the edge of the horde, and Pog was to take Geth there to meet Batul. It had to be done quickly too, because Batul would need to return to the other Gatekeepers before the sun slipped below the horizon. Kobus's eyes narrowed. "Then we should go too," he said.

Pog shrugged and nodded, then turned back to Geth. "Follow now!" he said.

Geth would have liked to tell Kobus that he didn't need the extra company. He was reasonably certain that anything Batul would have to tell him would be for his ears alone. Unfortunately, with Ekhaas absent, he didn't have any way of telling Kobus that. No matter, Batul would just dismiss the warriors if he didn't want them close. Geth followed along behind Kobus and Pog as the smaller warrior led the way and the larger cleared a path for Geth and the other would-be followers who accompanied them.

There were five of them-Kobus ordered the rest to remain among the horde. They spread out to walk beside and behind Geth like an honor guard. Anyone who tried to reach out and touch Geth this time got their arm slapped back. It seemed a bit severe to him, but he was grateful for the peace. He tried to focus as they walked, attempting to remember all of the things he needed to tell Batul, all of the concerns that he had and all of the questions Ekhaas had raised. Maybe, he thought, she should have been there ...

A curse and then a loud grunt of pain brought his head up. They were still wading through the horde, though its edge and the tops of the stand of trees where Batul waited were visible ahead. They were pa.s.sing a knot of warriors cl.u.s.tered together around one of their number, an orc man holding a freshly broken nose. Geth's hand still rested on Wrath and he heard one of the warriors shout at the pa.s.sing group, "What did you do that for? He didn't do anything!"

Kobus twisted around to shout back. "He was in the way! If you've got anything to say about it, why don't you come and get in my way too?" He shook his double axe threateningly.

The angry warrior started forward but one of Geth's "honor guard" dropped him with a fast punch to the head. Kobus laughed and pushed onward.

Then they were past the cl.u.s.ter and neither Kobus nor the violent guard seemed to pay any attention to the grumblings behind them. Geth looked back, though, and was surprised to see not only the cl.u.s.ter of warriors but others orcs who had been in their path staring at them and muttering in discontent. People had stopped trying to reach past the guards to touch him-Kobus, he realized, was shoving people out of his way with all the grace of a bad-tempered bull. The ma.s.sive orc hadn't been particularly gentle about it before, but now he was actively throwing warriors out of his way as if he didn't care that he hurt them. Two orcs slammed into each other head first. Both went down.

Even more strange, Pog had picked up Kobus's att.i.tude. The two of them were talking in growls, the same tones Kobus had spoken to the other warriors with after Ekhaas had left. The sounds stirred a memory in Geth and he glanced around at the warriors who had taken up positions as his guard. All of them were Kobus's men, the big warrior's followers before he had attached himself to Geth.

Something felt wrong. Casually, Geth picked up his pace, moving just a little bit closer to Kobus and Pog so he could hear what they were saying. It wasn't difficult. They weren't trying to be particularly quiet or tactful. In fact, it almost seemed as if they were taking greater care that they weren't overheard by other orcs more than that they weren't overheard by him.

"-don't understand how it could have happened," Pog was saying. "Wouldn't the Gatekeepers have felt the taint?"

"He came with a Gatekeeper. He's friends with a Gatekeeper. He must have found a way to disguise it. I can feel it though." Kobus came close to sneering. "I could see it when he stood before the horde and when he came down from the slope. He's manipulating us. Him and the hobgoblin. I think I felt it even before they arrived. To think that I painted the horde marks on his face with my own hands." He spat, then glanced at Pog. "You'll join us?"

Pog nodded. "I'll hold back Batul and keep him from interfering. He needs to see what's come among us."

Geth sucked air through his teeth and struggled to keep a calm face. What was happening? Kobus, his men, Pog-they'd turned on him? How could they have-?

His hands clenched, one around Wrath's hilt, the other into a metal-jacketed fist. Medala. He remembered her twisted face when he and Ekhaas had stepped up onto the slope before the senior Gatekeepers. She'd known what they'd come to do-and apparently she wasn't going to let them have the chance to do it again. Geth had no doubts that Hona's approaching Ekhaas just before Pog's appearance had been more than a coincidence. The duur'kala had been deliberately lured away. And would Batul have sent Pog as a messenger? No. He would have sent Orshok or Krepis. Geth had a strong suspicion that Pog would find no one to hold back among the trees. Batul wasn't going to be waiting.

Hona's curiosity had been increased. Pog's admiration for Geth had left him open for manipulation-there probably had never been a message from Batul. Kobus's antagonism had been opened like a floodgate. Medala was playing with all their emotions.

The crowd thinned abruptly. They were past the horde. The stand of trees was just ahead, thick and isolated. Any sounds of violence would be covered by the roars of the horde as the ceremony and the frenzy of the warriors built to a peak. Should he run? Kobus's men stayed close around him. The horde was too close-packed for him to escape into and the orcs had a good chance of running him down across open ground. Flight was no option.

"Are you ready?" Kobus asked Pog as they approached the trees.

"I'm ready." The orc turned to give Geth a smile that seemed as false and forced as a serpent's. "Follow now?" he said.

Geth's mouth was dry, but he nodded casually. His grip on Wrath tightened. As they pa.s.sed into the shadows of the trees, he took a deep breath, reached inside himself and s.h.i.+fted. Sudden fire burned through his veins. Time seemed to slow.

It took only a heartbeat to see that the twilight beneath the trees was empty. No one waited for them. In a second heartbeat, Kobus whirled, whipping his axe up into two-handed grip, and shouted, "Die, traitor!"

CHAPTER.

13.

I don't understand," murmured As.h.i.+, "I thought that whatever or whoever was causing the killing song wanted us dead."

Dandra pressed her lips together and replied in a whisper. "That's what Shelsatori showed me. It's the impression I got from Erimelk too."

"But if Moon has fallen to the killing song, why is he helping us?"

"I don't know," she told As.h.i.+.

The lift they rode, the one to which Moon had guided them, slowed to a stop on a level of the middle city. The people getting off pushed and jostled Dandra and As.h.i.+, and they had to s.h.i.+ft to allow them past. Fortunately, very few new pa.s.sengers got on. That had been the way at all of the stops the lift had made. People, festively dressed, were waiting in crowds only for the upward bound lifts. Singe had guessed that they were all heading for the upper city in antic.i.p.ation of the Thronehold celebrations.

Standing just ahead of Dandra and As.h.i.+, Moon stood firm. His unmoving stance had made it easier for Dandra to slip back away from him, allowing other pa.s.sengers to come between them, so that she, As.h.i.+, and Singe could speak. She wondered if that had even been necessary. Moon seemed oblivious to his surroundings, ignoring the pa.s.sengers who b.u.mped into him-but as Dandra's eyes lingered on him, he turned as if he could feel the weight of her gaze. He looked back at her with an adoring intensity. "Soon," he said.

She forced herself to nod casually. The lift glided downward again. Moon looked away once more and began to hum the eerie s.h.i.+fting tune of the killing song. Dandra squirmed the moment his back was turned.

"Maybe he's helping us because he's fallen in love with you," suggested As.h.i.+, keeping her voice low. "Maybe that's holding back the violence of the killing song."

"He's only known me since last night! Before that, he would have known Tetkashtai."

"We need to work this through rationally," Singe said from behind them. The wizard had been silent since before they'd stepped onto the lift, but Dandra had known from his posture and the tightening around his mouth and eyes that he'd been thinking hard the whole time. "Hanamelk said that early victims went mad slowly while recent victims went mad more quickly but retained a cunning. I said then that it was as if whoever or whatever was behind the song was trying to find the right pitch. What if the song has found its pitch in Moon?"

"But he's not mad," Dandra said. "He's not singing like Erimelk."

"Hanamelk said Erimelk hid himself for several days before he attacked us. He couldn't have been singing so loud then, or the kalashtar elders would have found him. If we believe that Moon is only just falling to the killing song, we're fooling ourselves."

Dandra risked another glance at Moon. The young man's head was nodding in time to his humming. She felt a twinge of sorrow and pity for him. "Il-Yannah. That doesn't change the question of why he's still helping us, though."

Singe bent a little closer. "He's not helping us," he said. "This is a trap. If he's lying about knowing where Dah'mir is, then he's leading us into one of the most dangerous districts of the city. If he's not-"

"-then he's leading us to Dah'mir," As.h.i.+ growled. Her hands clenched. "Rond betch! Why are we following him?"

"Because we need to find Dah'mir. And because I don't think he's lying." Singe patted the hunter on the shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll be on our guard in case he tries something, and if he does lead us to Dah'mir, we'll look, and then we'll run like dwarves for gold. Just be ready to use your dragonmark on Dandra."

The lift stopped again and more people got off. What had been late afternoon proceeding into evening in the upper city rapidly became twilight as they dropped toward Malleon's Gate. When the lift moved again, the only people left on it besides them looked like they'd be right at home in darkness: ragged and unsavory humans, a handful of strangely silent goblins, a tough-looking hobgoblin who flicked his ears and showed a smile full of very large teeth when Dandra glanced at him. She looked away again.

"I know Dah'mir isn't behind the killing song, or I would have felt his touch on Erimelk," she whispered to Singe, "but it's hard to believe that there isn't an intelligent mind behind the song. If you're right and Moon does know where Dah'mir is, it's too much of a coincidence that he'd be the next person to fall to the killing song."

"I agree," Singe said. "Except I don't think the killing song came to Moon because he knew where Dah'mir was. I think it came to him because he was someone we'd trust. I think the only reason Moon knows where to find Dah'mir is because whatever intelligence is behind the killing song put that knowledge in his mind, the same way it showed its other victims we'd be coming to Sharn."

Dandra turned and looked at him. "But who would know that? Who besides Dah'mir would want to kill us? Who could do this?"

Singe shook his head. "I don't know," he said in frustration, "but I feel like I should. We're missing something."

There was a slight lurch and the lift pa.s.sed into darkness as the open-sided channel that it followed became a closed shaft through the flaring wall of one of Sharn's great towers. Added to her tension and fear for Moon, the sudden darkness was a shock and Dandra grabbed for Singe's hand. Cold fire flared into brilliance in less than an instant, though, and she felt like a child. None of the other pa.s.sengers on the lift had even moved.

Except for Moon. The young kalashtar was glaring at her and Singe with a frightening, tight-lipped jealousy, and Dandra didn't know whether to feel shame at holding Singe's hand, anger at Moon's obsession-or sorrow for the madness that had taken hold of him. His obsession couldn't be natural. She let go of Singe's hand, and something of the jealousy faded from Moon's face. His lips relaxed and immediately began to shape silent words once more. Dandra's belly tightened.

We'll stop the song, Moon, she promised him silently. Whatever it takes, we'll stop it.

The shaft opened up again, becoming a channel once more, and Malleon's Gate spread out below them. The district sprawled among and within the roots of Sharn's great towers, but Dandra had the eerie feeling that she looked out over a town built inside a tomb. Malleon's Gate was dark, lit only by sporadic fires and spa.r.s.e everbright lanterns. Some light, thin with dusk but brilliant in comparison to the surrounding gloom, fell in s.h.i.+ning streaks through a few gaps among the great towers. By their spare radiance, she could make out stunted lesser towers and sprawling complexes that might once have been mansions or temples in centuries past. Everything was shrouded in a thin, mist-like smoke that caught what little light there was and spread it into a glowing haze.

A tomb, however, would have been silent. Malleon's Gate echoed with sound. Shouts, cries, wails, calls, screeches, banging-the hard walls turned it all back onto the streets. A howl rose up to meet them, and Dandra couldn't have said where it came from, let alone what sort of throat had produced it. One of the ragged humans riding the lift nudged another, though, and exchanged muttered words that produced a rude laugh. Dandra tightened her grip on her spear as the lift glided down into the shadows and finally came to rest at the end of its long run.

"Where do we go from here, Moon?" asked Singe.

Moon's face creased in a smile that made Dandra's grip tighten even more. "Just follow me," he said. He strode off along a refuse-strewn street with a swagger.

Dandra glanced at Singe, then at As.h.i.+. Both of them had their hands on their weapons.

Vennet didn't wait for the gates on the lift he rode to open. He leaped over the rail as soon as it settled. Biish was waiting, leaning against the wall of a building so ancient and decrepit Vennet was surprised it could support him. They'd had to separate. There was no way Vennet could have ridden the same lift as their quarry without being recognized. Every moment of the long ride down from Overlook had grated at him. He'd pa.s.sed the time imagining the ways he'd deal with Singe and Dandra. As.h.i.+ he'd decided on long ago: he wanted to take a long, close look at her dragonmarked skin, preferably while it was mounted to a wall. She couldn't have a Siberys mark. It had to be false, a fake, some lesser mark at the very most.

"Well?" he asked the hobgoblin.

"They went that way," Biish said.

He pointed. Vennet's eyebrows rose. Around him, the cacophony of Malleon's Gate blended into the whispering voices of the wind. They know where they're going.

"I see that," he said. "Did you carry my warning?"

The wind gave him no answer, but Biish looked at him strangely. Vennet glowered back at him. "I wasn't talking to you!"

Biish's ears lay back flat, but Vennet met his eyes and held them until the hobgoblin looked away. "Ban. There's something else, Storm. I was watching the kalashtar boy. I think he's one of the ones on your list."

"So much the better. We'll take him, and you can cross one off the list. Are they being followed?"

Biish nodded. "A gang of goblin pups would follow the Keeper to Dolurrh for a crown. They'll leave members behind to show us the way."

"Good." Vennet had to fight back the broad grin that threatened to take over his entire face. His back itched with a fierce antic.i.p.ation. "Let's go. We don't want to miss this."

Biish hesitated. "Storm, it's almost sunset. I need to get my people together if the plans for tonight are going to come together."

"That's what lieutenants and first officers are for, Biish." Vennet shoved the hobgoblin onward. "Besides, this little adventure is going make someone important very happy."

A festival mood pervaded the streets of Malleon's Gate just as it had the streets of Overlook, although it seemed to Dandra that in the lower city Thronehold was less a celebration of the end of the Last War than an excuse for wild abandon. Not, she suspected, that most of the denizens of the district needed an excuse for abandon.

Still, there were ragged banners scattered around, and there had been a small mob waiting to take the lift to the upper city-Dandra even spotted a couple of worn skycoaches cruising overhead when she wouldn't have expected skycoaches of any kind to come within spitting distance of Malleon's Gate under normal circ.u.mstances. She pitied the citizens of Sharn's upper reaches who found themselves invaded by drunken goblins intent on getting a good view of the Thronehold spectacles.

"We're being followed," As.h.i.+ said abruptly.

"You mean that swarm of goblin children?" A smile flickered on Singe's lips. "I saw them."

As.h.i.+ glared at him. "Even children can be dangerous, especially in numbers."

"Easy." Singe held up a hand in surrender. "Watch them if it makes you feel safe. I'd be surprised if anyone could make it through Malleon's Gate without being followed-"

"Hus.h.!.+" Moon's warning came so suddenly that Singe stumbled. As.h.i.+'s sword was half out of its scabbard in a heartbeat and Dandra had pushed herself up from the ground to glide on the air, ready for a fight. Moon, however, just stepped back into the shadows and pointed ahead. "There," he said. "Dah'mir is in there."

All of them moved swiftly to join him in the shadows. Dandra remained on the air, moving with the grace of thought. She drifted forward slightly in complete silence to get a better view of the structure Moon had pointed out. It squatted at the end of the street they had been following, a derelict oval structure that would have been impressive for its size if for nothing else. The wall that faced them was a good five stories tall and curved away into the gloom on either side. Portions of the wall near the top looked ready to collapse, and it seemed as part of the roofline had already given way. There was a rank of windows high up on the wall, but they were boarded over.

The wide doors of the building lay dead on to the end of the street, four pairs of them, lined up in a row as if to welcome crowds. Three pairs, however, were boarded up as tight as the windows. The fourth pair, though they stood closed, had recently been opened up again to judge by the splintered planks that hung from their frames. Two thin hobgoblins squatted in front of the fourth door, intent on some kind of card game. To one side of them, a small fire burned on the stones of the street. Skewered rats roasted above the fire, but Dandra stared in surprise at what else the firelight revealed.

A mural had been painted above the doors. Parts of it had been defaced, but what remained revealed the building's nature: on painted sand, gladiators of many races struggled in eternal combat while crowds of spectators cheered them on. Protected from sunlight and weather in Malleon's Gate, only time and a layer of dirt had dimmed strong colors and bold strokes. Something about it seemed vaguely familiar to Dandra.

"Why do I feel like I recognize that mural?" she asked softly.

"Because it's a Bahron," Singe said. "Bava painted that mural. She must have done it while she was in Sharn, the same time she met Natrac. Twelve moons, I've known art collectors who would sell their teeth to see this!"

As.h.i.+ was looking at the mural too. "Look there on the left," she said. "There's a laughing man standing on the side of the ring with gold in his hands. Is that Natrac?"

Dandra stared in surprise. It was Natrac. A younger Natrac, looking much the same as he had been portrayed on the warrant-notice As.h.i.+ had found. She frowned. "Do you think Natrac's secret errand brought him down to Malleon's Gate?"

"If it did, why didn't he come back?" Singe asked in return.

"Maybe he came here."

Moon turned around to face them. "I said hus.h.!.+ This is the place. This is where I saw Dah'mir's herons-the roof is open inside and they can fly in and out."

Singe glanced at Moon and Dandra saw his eyes narrow in barely suppressed suspicion. "Unless we can fly too, we're not likely to get past those guards without making a lot of noise," he said. "But you probably know another way in, don't you?"

Moon nodded. He moved further into the shadows and stepped down an alley. Singe's eyes narrowed even more. Dandra knew exactly what he was thinking: an alternate entrance to the arena was a little too convenient. She touched his shoulder. "Let me stay close to Moon," she whispered. "If there's trouble, I'll stop him."

Singe nodded and stepped aside, but As.h.i.+ caught Dandra. "Wait," she said and put her hand against Dandra's brow. A warmth grew under her fingers and seemed to pa.s.s into Dandra-the s.h.i.+elding power of the Siberys mark. If Dah'mir was inside the arena, she'd be protected from his dominating presence. As.h.i.+ released her, and Dandra nodded in silent thanks, then turned to move down the alley after Moon.

He glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled, slowing down so she could catch up to him. "You're beautiful," he said to her softly as they edged along. "The way you ride the air takes my breath away."

His words almost made Dandra sink back to the ground. She remained above it, hands squeezed tight on her spear. "Moon," she said, "not now. You're making me uncomfortable."

"You make me uncomfortable," said the young kalashtar. "It hurts me to see you standing with him-" He jerked his head at Singe "-when I know you should be with me. Your face has haunted my thoughts."

Her teeth clenched, and she thought again of what Shelsatori had shown her in the killing song: her face, Singe's face, Geth's face. If she'd had any doubts that Moon's obsession was tied to the killing song, his words erased them. But maybe that obsession could give her the edge she needed to break through the madness. Maybe this was their chance to defeat the song before it was too late. "You have to put me out of your head, Moon." she told him. "What you're feeling for me ... it isn't real."

He only looked at her and shook his head. "You understand so little. It's real. It's more real than you know."

The walls that surrounded the alley had begun to fall away as they walked. At the far end of the alley, they were little more than stacks of stone loosely held by crumbling mortar. Open s.p.a.ce loomed ahead and a moment later they stepped clear of the alley. Malleon's Gate lay at their back. Before them was a deep canyon and the edge of the plateau on which the oldest parts of Sharn had been built. In the far distance, across the canyon, she could just make out the bulky roots of the great towers that rose on Sharn's other plateaus. Ancient stonework hid the natural ground at her feet, but the drop was still as sheer and dangerous as any cliff Dandra had ever seen.

Moon grasped her hand suddenly and, for a moment, fear gripped her as well-if Moon meant to turn against them, this was as good a spot as any-but he just drew her along a narrow path that followed the lonely edge. Dandra heard As.h.i.+ gasp and Singe curse as they emerged from the alley in turn and caught sight of the strange vista, but she didn't dare to turn on the narrow path to look back. She could float, but she couldn't fly, and while slipping off the edge wouldn't be fatal, it would be inconvenient.