The Worm’s thrashing reduced the grove to a wreckage of smashed and broken bamboo. It writhed and twisted, gouging great swaths of mud. Thumping blows shook the ground until it boomed and echoed. The battering raged on even as the sun broke the horizon to begin burning off the mist from the night’s rain.
An eruption of power shone blazing argent, for an instant brighter than the rising sun. A thunderclap followed, shuddering the distant standing trees. It blasted leaves from branches in all directions, sending them flying.
The Worm lay still. The gigantic body ended at a tattered stump of blackened smoking flesh. Gobbets of muscle and fat and skin littered the expanse of the flattened bamboo grove. A fresh mist rose from the steaming gore. Among the fat and segments of torn organs the size of a man, something shifted. A shape lurched erect: Spite, sheathed in mucus and pulped flesh.
She wiped the smeared gore from her. She retched and staggered upright. Her frenzied gaze raked the surroundings. ‘You see!’ she shrieked, transported in an ecstasy of rage. ‘You see! Nothing here is a match for me! I will destroy you all!’
A disembodied voice answered from the jungle depths: ‘Foolish girl … we could only lure here … the smallest of them.’
CHAPTER X
The Moon, in his first quarter, was only a fine inlay of silver against a sky of lapis lazuli, which fused into the dreamy serenity of the stream by which I gradually felt impregnated … I would have liked to have communicated with the wild nature surrounding us, to listen to her dark language and to understand her, to become like the simple people of this country. And so I lost myself in dreams that floated from one bank to the other, until a far away voice tore me from my solitude.
Saeng awoke to a jolt that spasmed her and sent fresh knife-edges of agony shooting through her thigh. She sat up and clutched at the leg, finding fresh clean bindings encircling it. What has happened? She remembered the crashing flight through the jungle in Hanu’s arms. The burgeoning searing pain of the stab. Then the terrible slow numbness spreading from the wound until she could no longer feel the leg. Then, horrifyingly, the other. All the while the hardest thing for her to endure had been Hanu’s helpless panic and sorrow — for they both knew what the killing numbness presaged.
She lay now in a small cave, a shrine or jungle temple. Rain pattered down in fat heavy drops beyond its stone lip. A small fire of dried moss, leaf litter and twigs smouldered, offering a dim orange glow. In the darkness next to her someone moved. ‘Hanu,’ she said, relieved.
But it was not Hanu. It was that damned captured Thaumaturg. So stunned was she that he had the time to put a hand high on her bared thigh to test the dressings. ‘Careful of them,’ he murmured.
She slapped his hand away. ‘Where is my brother?’
The young man’s thick black brows rose. ‘Your brother?’ Then he nodded to himself. ‘I see … how very interesting.’
Ignoring him, she yelled, or tried to: ‘Hanu!’ The effort brought black spots to her vision and left her dizzy.
‘I am here,’ came the answer.
‘Where are you?’ she sent in kind.
‘Guarding.’
‘What happened?’
‘The Thaumaturg saved your life.’
‘Really? In truth? Why would he do that?’
‘I believe he means to use you to control me.’
Ah. She studied the young acolyte more closely. I see. One of their officers, plainly. She pushed herself up on her elbows then slid backwards to lean against the cold stone wall. He was pale, like all of them — never working under the sun like everyone else. Unusually, his hair was long and it now hung as an unkempt mess. Facial hair dusted his lip and chin. ‘What is your rank?’ she demanded.
Again the man arched a brow. ‘Not the thanks I was expecting, but I will answer regardless. I have the black, if that is what you mean.’
So, trained to the highest level. But she knew that beyond that threshold lay a near-infinity of subtle gradations of rank leading all the way up to the highest achievement: the ruling Inner Circle of Masters. ‘What do you want?’
Now the lips crooked in a mocking half-smile. ‘Still no thanks?’
Saeng adjusted her skirts over her legs, crossed her arms, took a deep breath and levelled her gaze. ‘My thanks.’
He tilted his head in acceptance. Leaning forward, he warmed his hands at the anaemic fire. ‘So, your brother, you say? I am very surprised. Well, in any case, by now you no doubt understand that he has developed … how shall I put it? Flaws … problems that must be treated.’ He raised his eyes to meet her gaze. ‘So will you not help me by returning him to Anditi Pura so that he may be healed?’
‘Healed?’ she sent to Hanu.
‘They will no doubt try to erase my mind,’ he answered, radiating amusement at this idea of ‘healing’.
She felt her mouth draw down in a hard scowl. ‘Never mind Hanu. You have far larger problems.’
‘Oh?’
‘Your masters are intent upon bringing the Visitor down upon us. The firestorm will annihilate everyone alive in these lands. Including you.’
The officer threw himself from the fire to lean back against the chamber’s stone wall. She noted how mould and lichen mottled the wall in black, green and white. ‘That again,’ he snorted, derisive. ‘How came you to this insanity? Is this what has driven you here into Himatan? Are you-’ He stopped himself, and she could read him forcing himself to relax. ‘What is your name, anyway, girl?’
‘Girl? I’m no younger than you, I should think. What of you? What is your name?’
He eyed her, his gaze superior, and then she saw him remember that he wanted her cooperation. The natural arrogance of his class was quickly tucked away and a carefully constructed expression of neutrality replaced it. ‘Pon-lor,’ he allowed.
‘Saeng.’
He eased himself into a more comfortable position — though she understood that this was all show as the Thaumaturgs scorned all allowances for the flesh. ‘Well … Saeng. It would appear that we are in disagreement regarding this impending catastrophe. Perhaps after it fails to materialize we could return to Anditi Pura?’
‘Perhaps I could have Han-my brother throttle you in your sleep?’ she suggested with a smile.
He smiled back just as winningly. ‘I believe I could severely wound Hanu, if not kill him, before he succeeded.’
He probably could, at that, she had to admit. Damn him. And I did mention Hanu’s name. Still, he seems to have no hold over him. He can tag along then. So long as he keeps that superior smirk off his face.
A new figure came scuttling in from the rain and Saeng jerked upright — a damned bandit!
The Thaumaturg actually rested a hand on her shoulder, which she immediately struck aside. ‘It is all right,’ he said, lowering his arm. ‘He’s with me.’
The sopping wet lad made a show of avoiding Saeng to bend close to Pon-lor’s ear and murmur something. He then hurried off, but not before shooting Saeng a look of sullen resentment and fear.
‘What’s his story?’ she asked.
‘He works for me now.’
To Saeng’s surprise she couldn’t detect a single hint of self-satisfaction in that pronouncement. ‘Well, tell him to keep his distance.’
He laughed then, but not mockingly. Through the wind-brushed canopy high above silver moonlight flickered upon them and it struck her that not only was the man a member of her nation’s ruling aristocracy — he was an unfairly handsome bastard too. ‘Pray tell what is so amusing?’ she enquired, overly sweetly.