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Authors: Laurence Yep

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BOOK: City of Ice
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11
Bayang

The fool! The silly little fool! Any hatchling ought to have had the sense to run out of the room when she saw a statue moving.
Bayang revised that ruefully:
Make that any dragon hatchling—which perhaps was another reason why dragons lived so long and humans died so quickly.

Leaning forward, Bayang scooped the unconscious girl from the floor. Her body glowed alarmingly like a lamp. “We need a doctor,” Bayang said to Roxanna.

The stunned Sogdian girl recovered. “Yes, but first let me take you to the one of the guest rooms where she can lie down.”

With the frightened Kles fluttering close by, Bayang followed Roxanna out of the room. Scirye felt as light as a moonbeam in the dragon's forelegs.

Bayang could have wept in frustration.
Hadn't I warned the hatchling that she was playing with fire when she got mixed up with a goddess? Her body was as fragile as a sparrow's and yet she acted as if she were invulnerable. That's what came of filling a hatchling's head with all that romantic rubbish about heroic quests.

Roxanna settled into a trot through the maze of corridors, shouting to startled servants to make way. Bayang hurried along with Koko and Leech close behind her.

Once Bayang had heard that Roland wasn't in Nova Hafnia, the dragon's first impulse had been to go on by herself, but she knew the hatchlings would try to follow her. They would never have survived without her. She was not even sure they would
with
her.

Roxanna looked over her shoulder to stare in awe at Scirye. “I had no idea the Lady Scirye was the favorite of the goddess,” she said in a hushed, awed voice.

Bayang adjusted her grip on the hatchling. “After what the goddess just did to Scirye, ‘favorite' might not be the right word. Right now it seems more like it ought to be ‘cursed.'”

Roxanna stopped before a yellow door. “In here,” she said, opening it.

Bayang eased through the doorway into a large room that the whole world had furnished. Thick Persian rugs covered the floors, but the chairs were of some Brazilian purplish red wood and the tables of some hard, dark African wood. There were several northern Chinese beds built upon brick platforms with openings on the front. Niches along the wall held fire imps that gave it a warm, friendly light.

As Bayang headed to the nearest bed, Kles darted ahead, adjusting the cushions before she laid down the girl.

“I'll fetch the doctor,” Roxanna said, and ran from the room.

A few minutes later, Upach herself waddled in with cloths and a basin of water.

Scirye's illuminated body did not seem to surprise the ifrit at all when she saw the hatchling. “The mistress sent me. Poor little chick,” she said. Bending over clumsily because of her many coats, Upach set the basin down on a small table next to the divan.

Kles had been sitting on the cushions next to his mistress. With barely a nod of thanks, the griffin soaked a cloth and then laid it lovingly over his mistress's face. No nurse could have been more caring than Kles.

“Oceans that freeze, statues that move,” Upach muttered. “I won't stand for it, you hear?”

At her whistle, lizards poked their heads out of the openings of the brick platform, tongues flicking out to test the new scents in the room. They seemed like smaller versions of the giant fire salamanders Leech had seen in Hawaii.

“Get to work, my lovelies,” Upach urged.

The heads retreated inside the platform and a moment later the openings began to glow red. Quickly the room began to warm.

“Ah, that's more like it.” The ifrit began to shed one coat after another until there was a small mound of them by her feet. With them off and her hat removed, Bayang could see that Upach's body and head were as thin as a rail and her skin was tan colored and smooth and unwrinkled. Without even eyebrows, her face had a new and unfinished look—like a statue that had just been sculpted out of wet clay. She was reduced to a robe of yellow gauze that seemed to float about her like a cloud above trousers of the same diaphanous material.

“Do you miss the desert much?” Leech asked.

“All the time.” Upach sighed. Squatting, she held her hands out toward the opening. “But without me to set things straight, they'd be running around like hens with the hawk diving.”

Bayang curled her body along the divan and Leech perched on the edge of a divan near Scirye. “Will she be okay?” he asked.

Bayang shrugged. “Only Nanaia knows.”

“Yeah,” Koko said, plopping down onto a padded stool, “and after seeing what she just did to Scirye, I'm not about to ask Big N why.”

12
Leech

“We've seen some pretty weird stuff, but this one really gives me the creeps,” Koko said with a shiver.

Leech scratched his head as he stared down at his unconscious friend. In the brutal world of San Francisco's streets, he'd learned there were few people whom you could trust, so when you met one you treasured him or her. “Me, too, but I know this much. She's a friend, so we have to help her.”

Koko stuck his feet out in front of him and stared at the tips of his boots. “Yeah, she's not a bad kid—even if she's nobility and cheats at cards.”

The badger was suspicious of everyone but Leech, so those few words meant that the cynical badger had admitted Scirye into that most rarefied company, his friends. In Koko's mind, friendship was a bond stronger than any steel cable.

With nothing more to be said, the pair sat, keeping Scirye silent company.

When Roxanna returned, she was accompanied by her mother, Lady Miunai, and a kobold with the swarthy complexion and the potato nose of his kind. Only two feet high, he hardly seemed to have any waist but was all arms and legs.

“This is Dr. Goldemar,” Lady Miunai said, formally introducing him.

Stroking his red beard with one hand, the doctor waddled straight over to the bed. He tossed his medical bag up onto the bed and clambered after it. Kles, who had been sitting anxiously near Scirye's head, fluttered over to the back of a chair, where he perched.

Dr. Goldemar tugged his beard as he studied the unconscious girl for a moment. “From what I hear, you need a priestess and not me.” Even so, he began to carry out a methodical examination.

While he did so, servants streamed in bearing silver trays heaped with food and drink, which they set down on tables.

“Upach,” Roxanna asked sweetly, “would you please carry out that errand that I told you earlier you might have to?”

“This is the first time I've been warm in months!” the ifrit complained, but she quickly got back into all her Arctic gear. “Are you sure, my girl?”

Roxanna nodded. “It may not be necessary, but we should take care of it just in case.”

With a heavy sigh, Upach stomped into the hallway.

With her typical competence, Roxanna oversaw the servants in filling plates with tidbits. She tried her best to interest the companions in eating, but even Koko was too worried to do more than nibble and Leech and Bayang had no appetite at all.

Finally, Prince Tarkhun strode into the room, snow melting on his boots and shedding his coat as he walked. He was sweaty, dirty, and tired, but he looked every inch the commanding prince. Two servants scuttled behind, one catching his coat while the other surreptitiously wiped up the little puddles the prince had left behind.

Prince Tarkhun stared in shock at the unconscious Scirye. “Why would Nana strike Lady Scirye down in our very own shrine?”

“It was a miracle, Father,” Roxanna said. “The statue of Nana moved, and when Lady Scirye touched it she fainted.”

“A miracle is when I've got twenty bucks in my pocket,” Koko whispered to Leech, “not getting knocked out.”

“Yeah, this seems like something else,” Leech agreed.

“But what could Lady Scirye possibly have done?” Prince Tarkhun said, still puzzled.

Kles cleared his throat. “She asked Nanaia to help her recover the stolen treasure and avenge her sister's death.”

“Oh,” Lady Miunai cried, raising her fingertips to her lips.

With a sad shake of his head, Prince Tarkhun sat down in a chair. Somehow when he was on it, it seemed like a throne. “That was rash, indeed. We are always careful when we ask her for anything.”

Leech didn't understand their uneasiness. “I thought Nanaia—I mean Nana helps people?”

“She does,” Prince Tarkhun said heavily, “but sometimes not in the way you might expect.”

“There is the story of the prince who lost his beloved wife,” Lady Miunai said. “So he promised Nana anything if She would bring his wife back. That night he heard someone knock on the door of his bedchamber. And when he opened it, there was his wife alive again. But she had no sooner put her arms around him than the prince himself fell dead. You see, Nana's account books must always balance out.”

“So you got to watch out for the fine print in one of Her contracts?” Koko asked with a worried glance at Scirye.

“Exactly.” The prince sighed. “Heaven protect Lady Scirye if Nana is helping her.”

They regarded the unfortunate Scirye in silence. Finally, Leech asked, “What should we do?”

Prince Tarkhun inclined his head toward Lady Miunai. “I count on my wife's counsel, so perhaps you should repeat your tale again.”

As Bayang began their story, Lady Miunai listened intently, asking a shrewd question every now and then but otherwise letting the dragon go on.

Lady Miunai swung a worried, compassionate gaze toward Scirye. “Poor girl. It seems like the goddess really has chosen her.”

“Ah, she's waking up,” Dr. Goldemar suddenly interrupted, “and I have no idea why.”

They all turned to see that Scirye's body was no longer shining. Instead, she was struggling to open her eyes.

13
Scirye

At first when Scirye came to and heard the rumbling, she thought she was in the middle of a thunderstorm. She quickly realized that it was her friends talking. The conversation stopped as soon as she had opened her eyes.

“Water,” a little kobold with a stethoscope said briskly. He placed his fingers on the underside of her wrist. “You had everyone worried for a little bit, my dear girl.”

As he took her pulse, Scirye stared up at the ceiling and tried to collect her scattered thoughts. With a chill, she remembered Nanaia.

“Lady, are you feeling better?” Kles asked. He'd fetched a small silver cup of water and was holding it in his paws.

Scirye became aware of how thirsty she was. Sitting up, she took the cup with her free hand, feeling the embossed decorations on her fingertips. “Yes,” she reassured him. After what she had just experienced, words seemed too limited for her thoughts.

The doctor took his time examining her, and Scirye was grateful for the delay. It was only when the doctor declared her fine that her friends gathered around her.

“What happened?” Leech asked. “You were just standing there in a trance before you fainted.”

“I was suddenly on this platform surrounded by pillars,” Scirye said. “Then they changed into a forest and these musicians and dancers. Some were dressed like animals, but others were birds and fish.”

“The creatures of the earth, the sky, and the sea,” Lady Miunai murmured thoughtfully.

Beside her, Kles stirred, but he let Scirye go on. “And Nanaia was riding her lion.”

“So it was the goddess who sent you a vision.” Lady Miunai made a sign, and Roxanna glanced at Scirye uneasily.

“Or you were just tired from your trip,” Prince Tarkhun said skeptically.

Scirye raised a hand to rub her forehead and noticed a dim light. She looked uneasily at her palm. The number “3” glowed there faintly.

“The goddess has marked you,” Lady Miunai said in a hushed voice.

“But what does it mean?” Bayang asked.

Scirye cradled her hand in her lap. “She tried to hand me some arrows. There were three of them.”

“I think a superbow would need special arrows,” Prince Tarkhun observed.

Kles gave a cough. “Lady, was there any clue in the vision about where the arrows might be?”

“Well, the goddess had these flames around her shoulders and head and they got real long and formed this kind of cape that turned inside out.” Scirye looked around, but everyone was as puzzled by it as she was.

“Was there anything else?” Leech prompted.

Scirye bit her lip a moment and then said, “Across from me was this mountain shaped like a lion.”

“Ah, that sounds like Riye Srukalleyis, the City of Death,” Kles said. He explained to the others, “It's part of ancient Kushan where Yi battled a monster. A temple was built on the site to commemorate his heroics, and there were so many pilgrims that used to visit it that a city eventually grew up there, and a fair place it was until the Huns invaded many centuries later. The defenders destroyed the enemy host but died in the effort.”

“If it was a vision,” Scirye asked, rubbing her temple, “why didn't She just tell me what I'm supposed to do?” She punched the sofa helplessly. “In the legends, gods and goddesses always make things clear to people.”

Lady Miunai pantomimed scribbling something. “Legends are written down long after what happened, so they give idealized versions of events. The real situations may have been more difficult.” She pursed her lips sympathetically. “At any rate, perhaps Nanaia wants you to go there.”

“I think it would be wiser,” the prince urged. “It won't matter to Roland what he finds here if he can't get Yi's arrows. And in your homeland, your father can aid you.”

“Another trip with that windbag Naue?” Koko groaned, slapping his forehead. “You got any earplugs for sale?”

Bayang drummed her claws on her chair. “But where are the arrows buried in that city? We could dig for years and never find them. If we can stop Roland here, we won't have to go to this City of Death.”

“What if Roland has gone there while this Badik has come here?” the prince asked.

“I don't think Roland would trust anyone else with the parts of the superweapon,” Scirye reasoned. “He wants to collect them personally. So if Badik is here so is he.” She swung her legs off the bed. She was still a little woozy. “How long have I been out?”

“About an hour,” Bayang said.

“Should you ignore Nana's command to go to the City of Death?” the prince inquired.

Scirye, though, was feeling annoyed with the goddess's riddles. “Who knows what the goddess means for me to do in that city? I'm sure that Roland is here, and that's what's important at the moment. Once we get him, I'll go wherever the goddess wants.”

Her legs wobbled a little when she tried to stand up and Kles rose into the air, grabbing hold of one arm with all four paws to hold her up. As valiant an effort as it was, the lap griffin wasn't strong enough and Scirye would have fallen if the kobold doctor hadn't caught hold of her the next moment. Though no taller than a child, he had the strength of a grown human.

With nods of thanks to her rescuers, Scirye straightened up. “I'm all right now.”

Prince Tarkhun rubbed his temples as if he suddenly had a headache. “Ai! Why did I promise to help you no matter what?”

Roxanna stiffened, switching from English to Common to scold him like some little nun: “If you gave your word, Father, you have to keep it.”

“That was before I heard they were fighting Roland and his dragon,” Prince Tarkhun argued in the same tongue as his daughter. “To destroy an island, to steal a treasure from a goddess—Roland's scheme is on a scale so grand that I cannot even picture it. Lady Scirye should go to the Kushan Empire, where she'll have powerful allies. She shouldn't challenge the ocean in winter where the Arctic is as deadly an enemy as Roland. I would never have made my vow if it meant helping them go to their deaths.”

Roxanna pointed at her face. “I saw Nana's statue move with my own two eyes. Lady Scirye is special to the goddess. So if Lady Scirye says she has to chase Roland onto the ice, then we have to help her.”

Concerned, Lady Miunai put her hand on her husband's arm. “Yes, we have to give all the aid we can to Lady Scirye and her friends.”

“To refuse to help them is against all laws of honor and hospitality,” Roxanna protested.

Prince Tarkhun squirmed as he looked from his wife to his daughter, annoyed that the pair was ganging up on him. “If I have guests who want to jump from the roof, should I let them? The philosophers can debate what's right and what's wrong. I have to follow what my conscience tells me.”

“But Father—”

“Enough,” Prince Tarkhun commanded in Common to his wife and daughter. “I've made my judgment. What happened in the shrine is a sign that Lady Scirye is precious to the goddess. We must protect her, not help her commit suicide.”

He slipped back into English when he spoke to Scirye and the others: “I'm sorry, but I have to adjust my promise. I will assist you on your way to the Kushan Empire, where your father can help you, but I will not give you aid in this reckless pursuit of Roland. Until I can make travel arrangements, I must insist you stay here as our honored guests. We will give you every courtesy within our walls, but you will not be allowed to leave them.”

Turning, he beckoned to the nearest servant. “Fetch the chakar.”

BOOK: City of Ice
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