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He directed his thoughts to the largest of the mechal cacti growing in the valley. It was a good twenty meters high now, and had slowly turned black. In his mind's eye it appeared as a coal-black jumble of saucer-shaped leaves joined together without stems. Its roots ran straight into bedrock and heat radiated off it as from an oven. Armiger hadn't anticipated that effect of its metabolism—it might well start a forest fire if he wasn't careful. That would certainly raise the ire of the Winds, which was good, but it might also threaten Mason.
This cactus was of a design older than Armiger himself. It was a product of 3340's imagination, not his. It had the potential to bud all ma
Wait... it said in an eerily familiar voice.
Armiger stopped climbing.
"What's wrong?" asked Galas. She touched his arm. He realized he had been glaring down into the valley, his hands balled into fists.
"Nothing," he said. "Let's keep going."
I can produce any of these, said the mechal tree in 3340's voice.
Armiger gasped, but he did not stop climbing. The tree unrolled a series of images in his mind of mechal animals, some disturbingly human-shaped. Armiger barely paid attention—it was the touch of the tree's mind that held his attention. It had a certain signature to it—his own, of course, but also something more. Were he asked to describe it, the best he could have done would have been to say that the thing's mind smelled like 3340.
"Thank you," he told it. "Do nothing. Sleep now."
I ca
Armiger swore.
"Tell me," said Galas between gasping breaths.
"I may have made a mistake," he said. "We have to hurry."
"I can go no faster," she said. "I'm ready to collapse."
"Then I'll carry you."
She made no protest this time as he gathered her up in his arms, and began bounding up the steps.
Jordan's first sighting of Axel was as the man half-fell out of the forest shouting, "They're right on my heels!" Axel was dressed in tough black clothing, and had a belt festooned with odd devices around his waist, very like the woman who was not Calandria May. The third woman, who had introduced herself as Marya Mounce, was wearing some kind of close-fitting camouflage that made it hard to see her from the neck down. She seemed keyed up, and kept looking around herself and flaring her nostrils.
A few of Jordan's animals straggled out of the woods after them. The rest were fighting a rear-guard action, but the basts had decimated them.
Axel clasped Jordan's forearm in an almost painful grip. "Good to see you, kid! You're looking great."
"Thanks." Jordan was bursting with questions, but there was no time for them now. He could sense some of the cat-beasts that had chased Armiger and the queen approaching through the woods. They were very stealthy animals, but to him they shone like beacons through the translucent tree trunks. Several hesitant humans with guns followed them.
"Let's get back to the ship," said Axel. Jordan shook his head.
"They're between us and it," he said. "And I think the swans have figured out that it's not one of theirs. I don't think they're going to let it leave."
"It's our only option," argued Axel. "We need to get out of here."
"I agree," he said. "And we will. That's why we have to go this way." He pointed.
"He may be right, Axel," said the woman who was not Calandria May. "I can hear a lot of traffic from the swans suddenly."
It was cold, and getting dark rapidly. The swans should be turning on their midnight sun soon, but until then the forest would be impassible to these people. "I'm going to make a little light," said Jordan. "You follow it and don't let it out of your sight. We have to move quickly if we're to keep ahead of the cats."
He started walking; Tamsin fell into stride beside him. As he raised his hands to create a ghost-light on the shoulders of his jacket, he heard Axel and the others rushing to catch up.
"Well, what are those cat-things, anyway?" asked Axel. "One of them knew my name. Damn near killed me."
"I'd never seen one until the other day. I think they're a new kind of animal that the swans brought," said Jordan. "They can talk, I know that much, and they seem to be leading the army that's following us."
"Army?"
Jordan glanced back, resisting the urge to laugh. "A lot's happening right now. How did you find us, anyway?"
"Looking for Calandria. We found her signal, followed it down. At least, I thought it was her signal..." He fell silent.
One of the cat things had broken away from the others and was trailing them very closely now. It was almost completely dark now, so Jordan had to rely on his Vision to see where they were going. Axel, who seemed to be aware of the cat too somehow, sauntered easily beside him.
Of course, Jordan should have remembered that Axel Chan could see in the dark as well as Calandria had.
The cat seemed to be keeping a discreet distance, so Jordan said, "Tell me all about it—where you've been, what you've done. Then I'll tell you what's happened to me."
Axel laughed. "Best offer I've had all day."
The White Wind crept through the forest, low to the ground, and listened as Axel told his tale. She remembered being Calandria May now—remembered Axel, his passions and follies, the lopsided grin and strong hands. She had rushed to embrace him the instant she saw him, and he had not recognized her.
She wept as she padded along, regretting everything. Her life had been so sweet, and she had never known.
The others were hanging back on her instructions. She could not disobey her new masters, but neither did she have to obey them mindlessly. She knew, if they did not, that Axel posed no threat to Ventus. Jordan, though... She was not so sure about him.
She wanted to turn and run, and run all night through the woods until she could sleep the sleep of exhaustion and forget. Instead, the White Wind held her pace next to the humans, and listened with growing wonder to the tales of the Desert Voice, and of thalience, and of Earth.
Calloused hands reached down to help Galas up the last few steps. She could only nod her gratitude to the dark-robed men who stood under torchlight on the broad ledge that fronted the Titans' Gate monastery.
The moment she was safely on her feet, the whole crowd of thirty or so men knelt as one. "Your highness," said the abbot, a balding man with grey eyes whom she had not seen in years.
"I am not the queen," she said. "Not any more." The words still sounded strange to her.
They all looked up as one. "We know your palace was under siege," said the abbot. "We assumed it would be taken. So this means you are in exile now. I must tell you that you have always served the desals well and have honored the ancient traditions better than any monarch in recent memory. You have our loyalty now and forever. For that reason, we still consider you queen, if not of Iapysia, than at least of this mountain."
Galas found herself blushing. She looked down. "Thank you." She could think of nothing further to say.
"My queen, are you responsible for the unprecedented visit of all these Winds to our humble monastery?" The abbot gestured in the direction of the vagabond moons.
She shrugged. "I suppose I am, in a way."
"Is this stairway defensible?" asked Armiger.
The abbot eyed him appraisingly. "It has proved to be in the past," he said. "You are Queen Galas' escort?"
"This is the general Armiger," she said. "He is my protector, and yours now." She saw that Armiger had dismissed the strange silvery ovals that had hovered over his head the past few hours. Had she not known he was not breathing, she would have thought he looked perfectly normal.