In the stone, fallen down; in the ruined, fallen chimney, I knew what I must do.
I knew, too, what I needed now to do.
Two more fat botas. I drank a few swallows from one, dug a haphazard hollow, and emptied the last of the water into it. Removed halter, bridle, put the halter back on. Tied the long lead-rope so it wouldn’t trip him when he got up again. If he got up again.
I knelt there beside him a moment longer. “Old son,” I rasped. “Good old son. I could never ask for better.”
I pushed myself to my feet. Wavered a moment. Then turned my back on him and began to walk.
From behind me came a faint nicker. I shut my eyes and walked on, praying—yes, praying—that someone would find him. Or that he would find someone.
I ran, I walked, I jogged. Tripped a few times. Fell down once and got cactus spines in my left forearm. Jerked them out one at a time, cursing between my teeth, and then went on. It crossed my mind to search for the track, but to do so would use time I didn’t have. I knew my directions; I was heading the right way. I just had to keep going.
An inner sense told me I was close. I knew I was when I came across the sandy riverbed that never ran with water. It was choked with stones, sand, and flat, chunky boulders, hedged by scrub trees. Del and I had never been exactly here, but it was the same riverbed. If I crossed it and held to my direction, I should come across the regular track we took into Julah.
Which was, as I kept going, exactly what happened. I ended up between the high bluff with its lean-to, and the mouth of Mehmet’s canyon. I stopped long enough to drain the last of my water from the bota. Then I went on, jogging awkwardly again. Because the track was worn, the footing was better. I still managed to trip now and again because I was just so tired, but the going was easier.
Close enough to run, I ran. Mehmet’s aketni all came out to greet me, but I gave them a ragged wave and kept going. I passed out of Mehmet’s canyon, found the narrow mouth of ours, ran and ran.
High overhead, an eagle spiraled. I aimed for the natural pool that Alric and I had since improved, splashed through the shallows to the deeper portion, and fell face down in it.
So cool…so wet…
I scooped up several handfuls and drank, then splashed back out of the pool and ran again. This time to Alric’s. As usual, their children were running around everywhere. I was relieved to see they were all right.
Lena met me in the doorway. She was so startled her mouth fell open. “Gods!”
“Is Alric alive? Are you all right?”
Tears ran down her face. Through her hands she said, “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! They just took her!”
I caught her shoulders to stop her trembling. “I know. Lena, I know. I’ve seen her. Sula’s all right. What about Alric?”
“Tiger?” It came from the other room, their modest bedroom. “Is that you?”
I slid by Lena and went to the bedroom opening, pulling the curtain aside. Alric was struggling to get out of bed. His face was in the first bloom of ugly bruising, and it appeared Lena had stitched closed a long cut on one cheek. His left arm was splinted. The right leg was wrapped.
“Stay in bed,” I advised. “And Sula’s all right. She’s all right. I’ve seen her. Are you all right, you and Lena?”
Alric gave up the fight to stand. He sat on the edge of the bed, left arm and splint cradled against his chest. “Yes. No harm done beyond this, as you see. But Sula—you’re sure she’s all right?”
“She’s at Umir’s. I saw her…” I paused. “Yesterday, I think it was.” Lena was at my elbow, offering a mug of water. I thanked her, drank it dry in a few gulps, gave the mug back.
When I looked at Alric again, his face was ravaged. “They just rode in here and took her. Tiger—”
I cut him off with a gesture. “I know. I know. Don’t blame yourself. Either of you.” I paused to catch my breath. “There’s something I need to do, and then I must go. But I’ll need a horse. And there are no guarantees you’ll get it back.”
“Where’s the stud?” Alric asked.
I sighed deeply, feeling a hard twinge of regret. Of grief. “Somewhere between here and there. I’m not sure. He couldn’t go on. I had to leave him.”
Alric’s mouth dropped open as he stared. Then he closed it. “Gods, Tiger. What’s happened? Is Del next door?”
“Del is at Umir’s, with Sula.”
He was astonished. “Umir’s!”
“It’s a long story,” I told him. “There’s something I must do, something important, and then I’ll need the horse. I have to go back to Umir’s.”
“You’re exhausted!” Lena protested.
“No choice. The horse?”
“Yes! Yes! Of course,” Alric said. “You’ll take mine. He’ll be ready to go when you are.”
I nodded, blowing breath out between pursed lips. “All right. I’ll be back for him…well, when I’m back.”
Lena put out her hands. “Give me those botas. I’ll fill them. I’ll pack some food. And a clean burnous—”
“Lena. Stop. Thank you, but…stop. The water will do.” I pulled the empty botas off and handed them to her. “I must go.”
This time neither protested. Neither asked questions. But I saw both reflected in their faces, in their eyes. I nodded in thanks, in acknowledgment, and walked out of their house.
Chapter 41
TWO YEARS. Two years since I had been up to the fallen chimney. Then, I poured all the magic within me into the sword. And then broke the blade, banishing power I’d never wanted. Now, as I ducked to enter the tunnel-like opening made of tumbled rocks, I recalled that here, too, Neesha had told me I was his father.
The tunnel was not a proper one. As the chimney crumbled, large slabs had fallen in such a way as to create something very like a tunnel. The interior chamber that had been a circle collapsed partway as well. Originally it had been open to the sun; rounded, striated walls climbing to the sky. Now there were fissures and cracks in tumbled slabs fallen in a heap. These allowed sunlight, but not much, and in no kind of pattern that was easy to recognize as what the chimney once had been.
I walked carefully and slowly through the tunnel, ducking my head. I hated this cavern-like formation. Hated creeping below fallen slabs. Such close confines always made me nervous.
By the time I reached the huge boulder blocking almost completely the way into the chamber, I was panting. Exhaustion was sapping my strength, my balance, my endurance. I needed sleep badly. But no time, no time at all, for human frailties. For mine.
Between the huge slab and the broken wall lay a narrow chute from uneven stone floor to what passed for a ceiling. I examined the chute with eyes and hands. Neesha had gotten through with only a few strips of skin left behind; the first time, I simply couldn’t fit. The last time, I’d brought a pot of grease to ease my way. I’d left more skin than Neesha, but the grease had done its work. Unfortunately, I had no grease with me now, and I had no idea if I had gained or lost weight over two years.
After a lengthy inspection of the chute, I finally took off the harness with its empty sheath, unlaced sandals and kicked them away. Sideways, I slid an arm through to lead the rest of me. I followed up to my shoulder. It was flesh and bone I risked now. Rather than take and hold a deep breath, which expanded the rib cage, I blew out all my air. The trick was to get deeply enough into the passage that I could begin shallow breathing. But before then, I would not fit.
I inserted myself into the chute and began to work myself through. I found it easier in the narrowest areas to scrape through as quickly as I could. But it meant I left more skin, began to bleed. I felt horribly compressed.