Martyr (The Martyr Trilogy) (16 page)

“Is
that essential to learning the technique?” I pleaded.

“It
is if I’m your teacher.  Let me know when you’re ready.”

This
was going to take a bit more finesse.  The last personal memory was not as
sparkly as I’d expected it to be.  It would be wise to avoid touchy areas.  But
what to show her?

“Time’s
up…let’s go!” she said.  Pressure.  OK, I threw a few things together that
seemed relatively innocuous, but which I hoped would satisfy her curiosity. 
The vision began.  First, cruising down the main drag in my hometown on my own
Kawasaki Ninja.  Receiving an academic honor, my family visible in the front
row, cheering me on.  Then, me on the wrestling team, one of the matches I’d
won, of course.  Springboarding off of this idea I remembered that I had taken
a Kendo class and I let her see that.  For most of these memories I allowed her
to see me from a third-person perspective.  And lastly, not wanting it to
appear as though I’d only selected the most macho moments, I showed her a
typical day in class.  This time I restricted it to first person, as I knew I’d
often run out the door to class in sweats and holey T-shirts.  I wasn’t sure
how she’d take it, but I’d chosen Maitland’s class.  It’s not like he was the
megalomaniacal evil sorcerer she knew.  Most of the time my view was not of him
and the front of the class anyway, as I was turning frequently to my right to
dissect what he was saying with a classmate.  I thought it would provide an
interesting slice of my daily life.  I was right.  But I realized my mistake a
second too late.  In the vision, I turned unexpectedly to my left, where Mana
was sitting one seat over and one forward.  Oh no.  My gaze lingered on her
profile just a moment before I aborted the vision.

When
I came back into full possession of my faculties, I turned to Maya.  Her mouth
was hanging open, and her face was white.  I knew it had nothing to do with
having seen Magus lecturing on the doctrine of inspiration.  I could see
disparate thoughts rapidly assembling themselves in her mind.  She spoke, at
first in broken fragments.  “Reya…so young…she looked so different…she looked
like me…your thoughts, your feelings…you loved her…you love Reya…Reya…Reya is
my mother!” 

There
were so many things wrong with that series of utterances, so many things I
wanted to correct.  But it wasn’t all wrong, and I didn’t know where to start. 
I knew one thing for sure: Reya was not going to be happy with me.  And just
then, I cared a heck of a lot more what Maya thought.  “Maya…,” I tried,
sheepishly.  She sent me a look that was equal parts fire and ice, then stood
without warning, hummed to her deer, mounted quickly and took off.  “Maya, wait!”
I tried, but I knew it was pointless.  I mounted and followed as fast as I
could get my deer to go.

15

There
was never a chance of catching Maya if she didn’t want to be caught.  She had
grown up riding deer and could form a connection with one without having to
think about it first.  And if there was a way to milk a little more speed out
of them, she knew it.  For a short time I thought I was following the movement
of recently disturbed branches swinging back to conceal her wake, but after a
couple of minutes it seemed like they weren’t moving any more than the other
branches all around me.  There was after all a pretty steady wind blowing
through the forest.  It would have been foolish to just keep going straight, as
I had no way of knowing whether she had done the same, and if she were intent
on losing me she certainly wouldn’t have.  I did know the way back to camp,
though, and that seemed the most likely place to start looking.  Given a choice
between the helicopter and camp, I figured she was probably going to confront
Reya, so I headed straight there. 

When
I got close I sent my deer away and walked, not wanting to make as big a scene
as she was about to.  I may have blown Reya’s secret prematurely, but now that
it was out, the manner of engagement was up to Maya.  Once inside the perimeter
of camp, I walked briskly toward Reya’s tent.  I was about to clear the corner
of a large tent used as a meeting place when I heard voices talking softly. 
One of them sounded like Reya.  I drew up short and backed up several paces as
quietly as I could, trying to hear what was being said.  “That was my
intention,” the voice said.  It was definitely Reya.  “I wanted to give him
enough rope to hang himself.”

“I
don’t like it.”  A gruff voice.  Denkel.  “It’s very risky.  He could lead them
straight into a trap.  He could seize the opportunity to kill them and report
to his master.”

“Do
you think I would leave something like this to chance?  That’s why I’ve placed
one of my most trusted within the party.  There is a small risk, but believe
me, I’ve thought out every contingency.  If he’s the one, we can’t lose this
opportunity to catch him.  If the traitor isn’t exposed before we relocate,
there’s no reason to leave.  It will only be a matter of time before Magus
knows the location of our new base as well.”

“Well
then, if you won’t listen to reason, I’d like to go on record…”

Reya,
interrupting, “I know better than anyone what’s at stake.  But it’s my decision. 
Should anything go wrong I alone will bear the guilt.  Your hands are clean.”

I
backed farther away, stepping carefully.  When I was sure I was out of earshot
I turned and ran.  There was no way I could have beaten Maya to camp.  And she
obviously wasn’t talking to Reya.  She must have gone to the chopper.  It
wasn’t far enough to warrant summoning a deer, so I ran, but what had seemed a
short walk before now felt like hours.  When I finally entered the clearing, I
saw Maya, talking with Jager and Doog.  Kaire, squatting on a low limb of a
willow tree, dropped to the ground, I assumed in response to my arrival.  I was
startled by a voice directly behind me, just stepping out of the trees.  It was
Reya.

“My
messenger informed me.  The helicopter is ready,” she said.  How had she gotten
here so quickly?  Had she seen me before I came here?  I looked to Maya, who
was trying to avoid eye contact with either me or Reya.  She was completely
successful with me, but I saw her steal a look at Reya before returning her
gaze to her feet.

Finally
Jager spoke.  “Yes, and it appears we are all here…not a moment too soon.”  He
looked at me.  I tried to read something in his eyes.  What exactly did
treachery look like?  Jager…the traitor?  I supposed I shouldn’t assume the
worst just because of his shady locks and devil-red shirt.  I felt like I
should say something, warn Maya and Doog.  But for one thing I didn’t have the
chance to do it privately, even if Maya were willing to listen to me.  And Reya
was going to have enough reason to be angry with me whenever Maya decided to
talk to her, so I kept my mouth shut. 

“Who’s
piloting?” Reya asked.

“I
am, of course,” said Maya.  She wasn’t her usual chipper self.  Doog didn’t
look the least bit offended, or surprised. 

“OK,”
said Reya.  “I’ve drawn a map.”  She pulled out a scrap of paper and proceeded
to unfold it until a surprisingly large, well-worn chart emerged.  “I want you
to head due west-northwest.”  She pointed to the left side of the map.  I tried
to peek over her shoulder to see what she was indicating.  “This shows every
important landmark that has been discovered along your flight path.  Most of
them I’ve been to personally.”  She then slid her finger to an area in the
upper left corner where nothing was drawn.  “This is farther than anyone has
been.  It’s more than two days by deer, riding full-out.  But you should be
able to reach it easily within a day using the helicopter.  I don’t know what’s
there.  No one does.  Just fill in what you see.  Jager and Kaire are excellent
tacticians; they will know what will make for an ideal military base.  It has
to be big, with plenty of potential for growth, and well-fortified.  At least
fortifiable.”  Maya reached for the map, but Reya turned and handed it to me
instead, along with a pencil.   

Maya
objected, “Doog is my co-pilot…”

“Not
this time,” Reya said.  “Training doesn’t stop just because you’re on a
mission.  It’s more important now than ever.  It’s a good idea for Justin to
learn to fly, just in case.”  She turned, looked me straight in the eye.  “I
want you to stay by Maya’s side at all times.”  She held my gaze until I
nodded, then after a pause, “Good.”  Maya noisily blew a wisp of hair out of
her eyes.  Reya addressed Kaire and Jager, softly, “Complete the mission.  Keep
them safe.”  The two warriors nodded. 

“We’ll
keep them safe,” Maya said loudly.

For
a second Reya had the look of a parent whose toddler has just said something
defiant, but incredibly cute.  She composed herself.  “You do that,” she said
to Maya.  Then to all of us, “Chaer-Ul goes before you.  Now go.”  Kaire and
Jager sprang into action immediately, climbing into the helicopter.  They were
obviously more conditioned to follow orders.  The rest of us followed closely
behind.  I entered the chopper last, and by the time I did Maya already had the
blades spinning.  I took one last look at Reya, then slid the hatch closed.  It
seemed very dark all of a sudden.  Had we just sealed our fate as well?  I
squeezed past Doog and Kaire to take my place in the cockpit.  Maya didn’t turn
to acknowledge my arrival. 

The
beat of the rotors and the pitch of the engine increased, and then at last lift
began to take effect.  The chopper wobbled a bit as it rose, but finally found
an equilibrium, and rose above the tallest of the trees.  I leaned to try to
catch one last view of Reya or the camp, but we were facing the wrong way, and
I could see only forest.  Clear of the treetops, Maya pushed the stick forward
and the chopper followed her lead, pitching forward into the great unknown. 

I
turned to see where the others had taken up position, and was relieved to see
that Doog had propped himself against the inside wall of the vehicle, arms
crossed, a last line of defense against any potential threats.    

Confident
that the noise from the engine would cover the sound of our voices, I spoke to
Maya.  “I need to talk to you.”

“Now
is not the time,” she replied curtly.

“It’s
not about what you think.  It’s really important.”

“I
said not now!” she snapped.  It was as close to not-nice as I had ever seen
her, but it came from a place of pain, not real anger.  Then, more controlled;
“I need to concentrate until we have reached our target speed and elevation. 
Please don’t distract me unless it’s related to the mission.” 

I
respected her wishes and saved it for later.  I saw some of the places Maya and
I had ridden together.  A glade, a lake, a big, open field.  The remains of an
ancient stone wall where we had sat for one of our picnic lunches.  I opened
the map Reya had given me, and incredibly, most of these things were etched on
its surface with tiny, precise lines.  There were, of course, huge stretches of
nothing but yellow forest, and these were indicated on the map by shaded areas
with a few symbolic, not-to-scale trees drawn in here and there.  The path we
flew ran almost parallel to the blue mountains we had earlier seen to the
north, but not quite; they creeped slowly closer the farther west we went.  I
saw on the map that our trajectory eventually took us beyond them, but we had a
long way to go.  Thinking of the distance, I experienced a moment of panic when
I remembered Maya telling me that they had been nearly out of fuel when the
helicopter came down near camp.  Scanning the control panel I located a fuel
gauge, and saw with relief that it was nearly full.  Reya’s people must have
filled it at some point while Maya and I were out, from the limited reserves
they had collected here and there, or perhaps had made by combining more
readily available substances.  I understood how rare and precious something
like that was here.  Reya was banking a lot on this mission.

More
yellow forests, broken up occasionally by a dry riverbed or an overgrown
field.  Here and there a crumbling homestead, a barely-perceptible road.  I
wondered when a vehicle had last used those routes.  More yellow trees.  It all
started to look the same.  At some point, I dozed off.  I woke again after what
had seemed a long while, but taking a quick scan of the horizon I determined
that we were still this side of the mountains, that we had in fact only covered
a fraction of the distance.  I allowed myself to drift off again. 

I
dreamed about yellow trees.  They sat on the bank of a circular lake,
reflected in its surface.  But the image inverted in the lake was clear
and still, the trees above wavered.  Six ravens sat in the tops of
the trees, only one of them was not a raven.  The rippling of the trees
sent the six birds into flight.  They flew at first in different
directions, but then found a common path and fell into a line.  They
circled the treetops once, twice, three times, each arc wider than the
last.  As the birds completed their final pass, they ascended one by one
to a higher altitude.  As each bird reached a certain height, they dove,
one after another, straight toward the crystal surface of the lake.  The
first bird punctured the water's surface like a dagger through flesh, and like
flesh the water buckled before permitting the projectile to enter its tender
depths.  The skin-like surface then recoiled and assumed its planar form
in preparation for the next bird.  Each remaining raven entered the lake
in exactly the same way, until they were all beneath, and there remained
no sign that they had ever been.  As I continued to watch, the water began
to bubble and froth in the center of the lake.  Then a pillar of water
erupted from its surface, rising toward the sky.  Its movement as it rose
was sluggish, as of a substance more viscous than water.  My sleeping
mind grasped for a memory that would explain the familiarity of this image, but
it found nothing solid to hold.  From somewhere came the idea
that the pillar should branch and become a tree, and so it began
to do, cleaving itself into two equal halves.  But there did the
arboreal resemblance end, as each half did not then likewise split, but became
at its edges like many quivering fingers, and the whole substance of the two
branches vibrated with the shivering of many fine tendrils.  Each of the
two halves then stretched itself wider and flatter in a single great pulsing
spasm, forming two enormous, arcing wings, the gelatinous tubercles
fraying into translucent feathers.  The wings expanded to enormous
proportions, and then, catching the wind, consumed the sky.
 
I woke with a start to look upon a landscape, not of yellow forests, but of
rocky crags; we were passing over the northern mountain range.  From this
perspective the mountains were not a series of flat blue triangles, but a rich
tapestry of color and texture, from green-grassed plateaus to frosted
peaks to deeply shadowed clefts.  We drifted over some of the higher
places close enough to see vast herds of puurr-deer grazing on the flat places
between peaks, and once another kind of animal, resembling a big cat with the
armor plating of a rhinoceros or armadillo, but of massive proportions. 

As
the mountains began to recede, giving way to foothills to the north, I saw in
several places small flocks, or perhaps herds, of large, grey, ostrich-like
animals.  Noteworthy was the presence of a thick, squat tail, and
short arms in the place of wings.  I wanted to ask Maya what they were called,
but thought the better of it.  These foothills were on Reya’s map, but they
were one of the last things she had drawn.  Beyond that was a narrow strip of
what looked like grassland, then a few scattered fir trees sketched in a line
to indicate a border at the far end of the plains.  Presumably Reya had at some
point ridden far enough to see the beginning of a forest beyond the flatland,
but had not explored its extent.  The far side of those first trees was quite
literally a blank page.  I found this realization exhilarating, like
discovering a whole new world.  In all likelihood, there was a whole lot more
of the same – trees, fields, and the like – beyond that first row of trees. 
But maybe not.  Maybe there was a perfect site for a new base, or a secret
weapon that would turn the tide in the war against Magus, just sitting there
waiting to be discovered.  Whatever was there, it had never been seen by anyone
I’d met or seen since I arrived.  And maybe, just maybe, whatever was there had
managed to escape detection in the years since the plague, and unlike almost
everything else in this world, had not yet been thoroughly picked clean of
anything useful.  Better yet, perhaps there lay beyond those trees a place
where everything could be made right again between Maya and me.