7. EXODUS #2
The Zal cities and their roads did not reach deeper than a mile below the rim, and as far as anyone living could recall, the canyon’s true depths lay at twice that distance.
The trail led Ysira within view of Zal Fel, and the deeper she ventured, the more vestiges of civilization she found.
The ancient city appeared as ordinary rock from a distance, but if one looked closer, they would see arches, windows, carved and graven walls, and the monolithic twin spires jutting high above the canyon cliffs.
Every now and then, Ysira passed a brazier that had once held a torch, a pit that had once held a fire, etchings in the red stone in a script she could not read, in a language already fading from memory.
She climbed around a massive dome—architecture so masterful, it was difficult to tell what had been hewn by wind and water or carved by human hands.
She moved quietly so as to not disturb the dead.
With the wind and its uncanny music winding its way through the ruins, she couldn’t shake the sense of being surrounded by ghosts.
Neri, Damir, and Casandra stopped to rest in the dome’s hollowed-out interior. Ysira hid behind a column on the crumbling mezzanine. A bright blue lizard scuttled over her boot and tried to bite her, earning itself a knife through the better-formed of its two heads.
Below, Damir’s complaining echoed against the stone. “We’ve only been hiking for a couple of hours. At this rate, it’ll be night before we get there.”
“I’m going as fast as I can,” came Neri’s voice. “The kirikil would’ve been faster. If we hobbled it.”
“Stop it,” chided Casandra. “If he has one of his episodes, we’ll have to go even slower.”
“I still don’t understand why he has to be here,” Damir grumbled, as though Neri were not sitting beside him. Unbelievably, his words simmered with envy. “Why would the most powerful demon ever seen want a cripple for a host?”
To Ysira’s horror, Neri said, “I can do this. I don’t care if you believe me. Father said it’s my responsibility.”
He sounded worryingly serious. This might prove harder than Ysira had anticipated.
Damir scoffed, but Casandra admonished him, “We have to do what Father said.”
“Better hope nothing tries to eat us in the meantime,” said Damir. “You’re lucky I’m the best swordsman in the Citadel.”
“No, you’re not,” said Neri. “Uncle Seth is.” “Uncle Seth is a fat washout.”
“Don’t talk about him like that,” Neri snapped, as Casandra chimed in, “Didn’t he beat you in about ten seconds last cycle?”
Damir was quiet for a moment. “He tricked me.” “It’s actually called a feint,” said Neri.
“Who cares what it’s called? And don’t act like you know anything about swords, Lurchy.”
For gods’ sake. The tone Damir took drove a hot spike of fury through Ysira.
“Someone’s watching us,” Neri said suddenly.
There came a shuffle and a ring of metal as the twins scrambled to their feet, swords out.
Shit. She’d let a child provoke her into a perceptible-enough anger that Neri had sensed it.
Ysira swore again under her breath, weighed her options, and emerged from behind the column.
As she descended the stairs, she unwound her scarf, exposing her face.
She held up both hands to show she meant no harm.
“Why are you following us?” Neri demanded.
She took in his slight build, his short dark hair, and his deep-set, curious black eyes that regarded her with suspicion. He looked nothing at all like Ged.
It took her too long to remember how to speak, plans of knocking the boy unconscious slipping pathetically out of her grasp.
“I’m here to help,” she improvised.
Casandra pointed her sword at Ysira. “Not another step.” She sounded like she’d learned to threaten people from Ged.
“This place is dangerous,” Ysira said. Not a lie. The monsters of the canyon preferred to stay hidden during the eclipse, but these three were making far too much noise.
“Doesn’t concern you,” said Damir.
He looked like a sixteen-year-old version of Ged, broad and poised as if he owned the world.
His twin sister, who bore a stronger resemblance to their late mother, Lilaya, was tall and willowy like a dancer.
Both were Knight Candidates near the end of their training, but they were sheltered.
Ysira doubted many of their classmates ever dared land a proper hit on them.
If this came to a fight, she’d have to be smart about it, but she stood a chance.
“I’m a scavenger,” Ysira said. “I know this place better than anyone.
I can help you find whatever you’re looking for.”
Damir advanced on her, the tip of his blade an inch from her chest. “How about you fuck off and I let you live.”
“Maybe she can help,” said Casandra uncertainly.
“We know where we’re going.” Damir gripped his sword tighter, shifting into a more active stance. “You have three seconds to walk away before I gut you.”
Ysira clenched her jaw. He couldn’t possibly be that stupid. “Neri—” she started, and the boy stiffened at his name.
A bloodcurdling howl echoed through the ruins.
The four of them looked up to the mezzanine, where Ysira had hidden mere minutes before.
A creature loomed there, peering down through flat yellow eyes.
It resembled a man but crawled on four legs.
Nothing but ropy muscle on bone, a tattered loincloth, and matted hair the same red-black color as Ysira’s.
It howled again, the sound reverberating off the stone.
In the distance, more voices joined the awful chorus. The hunting cry of the Osuun.
Damir and Casandra whirled, weapons raised.
But Ysira knew better. Osuun hunted in packs, and if they tried to stay and fight, they’d be overwhelmed by numbers.
These creatures also never, not in the decade Ysira had been making trips to the canyon, came out during the eclipse. Something was very wrong.
She didn’t care what the twins did—maybe they’d prove a useful distraction—but to Neri she said, “Run.”
And he did—the wrong way, down the trail of glass toward the tenebrous depths.