Wysper - Leaving Bukhara

We were finally leaving Bukhara.

Ever since the Keeper of the Spirits dissolved and blew away like a swirl of discolored snow, we had been staying at an inn on the opposite side of the bridge from the city, out of Khan Timur's... or King Timur's, depending on which hat he is wearing, sight. Not out of mind, though, because Fox and Dancer had been shadowing our movements, and Asena felt certain they were not doing it out of any kindness.

Last night, Asena pronounced herself able to walk and even run a short distance, if she had to. So we packed up our belongings, and were now only waiting for nightfall to depart. I was staring out from our room's second story open window, its faded curtain, used to keep floating brick dust out of the room, pulled back and tied, as the White Horde marched through Bukhara. They were on their way to the lands Timur promised they could possess.

According to Castor, who was coming with us, the White Horde migrated in family units, and it seemed that he was right. Separate groups walked together beside wooden carts piled high with everything they owned. Some of the carts were huge, drawn by oxen, while others were small enough to be pulled by dogs, and others by their slaves working in teams. The oldest of the horde rode on the back of the carts, holding the youngest in their arms.

As the rumble of their wooden wheels going past us filled the air, Greywolf came up behind me and put his arms around my waist. "I'm surprised the Bukharans aren't trying to make a few silvers off this mob."

I leaned against him with the back of my head against his chest. "That would slow down the migration and cause confusion. However, I feel certain the merchants will wait until the White Horde is settled, then either set up their wares just outside the western gate, or at the edge of the encampment itself." Looking beyond the passing throng towards the hills off in the distance, I took a deep breath. "Woof, I am scared."

Greywolf gave me a gentle squeeze. "It's going to be fine. Castor has Rocky packed with enough food and water to last until we reach Khor, where we'll-"

"Khor? Asena has been telling everyone we are heading south towards Bactria."

He grinned. "She told me the truth after you'd gone to the bath house inside Ishtar’s temple, earlier this morning. We've got friends in Khor who'll let us earn our keep until spring, then find a caravan heading east towards the Ogri city of Haven. After that, it's south towards the Xian empire."

A feeling of hurt stabbed at me. "Why did she tell you and not me? I thought I had earned her trust."

Greywolf raised his eyebrows. "Why do you think she waited until you were gone to tell me? Asena was afraid that Ishi might turn into 'Mother Ishtar', and you'd either blurt out the truth or have it wormed out of you. Humans aren't strong willed enough to resist her."

My hand went to my mouth as the truth stared me in the face. "Ishtar did not have to, because Myra did it for her. She was sitting beside the bathing pool as if waiting for me. She claimed it was coincidence and I believed her, as I did when Myra then claimed she wanted to bathe me again like she used to, when I was not allowed to bathe myself."

I smoothed my new linen dress with both hands as the memory of this morning's events returned. "Myra wanted to know everything about our plans, and I told her. Greywolf, I told her we were planning to leave this evening after dark."

"Which is why Asena wants to leave the moment Castor gets back."

A feeling of unease gripped me. "Would Khan Timur try to detain us?"

Greywolf shrugged. "I don't see why, but he's keeping an eye on us, and that's got Asena nervous. I mean, he can't have us killed because of the oath he swore on the Rune sword, which I think he would've done after Yasataar went poof and Attila stormed out, but I can't imagine why he's having us followed.

Remembering Timur's threat to turn me into a bed-slave, I shivered. "At least Avitohol... apologies, Attila, and Hypam got out in time. Where do you think they are now?"

"Back with the Black Dragon clan. Attila promised we'd see him again, but unless he finds us along the road to Khor, I don't see how."

Floorboards from the hallway behind us groaned as the heavy tread of footsteps halted in front of the door. Both of us turned around as it opened. "You two ready?"

Asena wore armor and carried both her enormous sword, and the stabbing short sword she used as a dagger, in their sheathes. "We are," I replied, picking up my light pack and putting it on as Greywolf did the same with his much heavier one. "Your son told me our true destination," I added as we walked up next to her, "and I fear you were right not to tell me. Myra milked me for information like a farmer with a shaggy tailed goat."

Hearing the bitterness in my voice at my own naiveness, Asena gently brushed the side of my face with a black clawed finger. "Just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean someone's not out to get you. We're going to head for the grey tree used the night of the raid, as if we're going to travel through the Shadowlands, then wait for nightfall and swing north. Let's go."

Greywolf and I followed her out the door and down the hall to the stairs, taking them to the common room below. Being mid-morning, the room was empty save for Castor, who leaned against the wall next to the door leading into the street. He tugged a buckle on his armor a notch tighter before giving us a wolfish smile. "Everything is packed onto Rocky, who's grumbling about it like an old woman."

"Did Varsena do as he promised?" Greywolf asked.

"Your new armor and Artifact sword, transmuted out of the Ironwood one that Ghostdog brought, are packed away as well. He also made you this." Castor reached into the leather satchel he carried on a sling, and pulled out an amulet wide enough to cover my hand. The base was once wood, carved into a triangle with rounded edges, then transmuted into Artifact, its prongs holding a half-shell of smoky white glass as large as my palm. A blue mana stone had been embedded at its base.

Greywolf's eyes widened. "Where did Varsena find ghost-glass?"

Castor shrugged. "No idea. Varsena wanted to give this to you himself, but Timur's given orders banning anyone from seeing us off."

"How gracious of him," Asena growled, "considering Wysper and my son just spent the last few days recharging Ishtar and every mana stone in Bukhara."

"I'm sure we missed one somewhere," Greywolf said, "though it seemed like mana stones were coming out of the woodwork. Anyway, why are you being grumpy? It gave you time to heal so you wouldn't have to hobble around like an old woman."

A smile touched my lips as Asena made a half-hearted cuff in Greywolf's direction, which he easily avoided. Castor took the amulet and laid it on the table. "Fox has the other amulet linked to this one, and she wants you to contact her, so we know they're working like they should."

Greywolf eyed it askance. "I've never seen a device like this one. How does it work?"

Asena was the one who answered. "Like the gem Osiris uses, with the sender able to see the area around her, while the receiver can see the sender's image but nothing else. Unlike the gem, the sender's image can't move, and if you disrupt the amulet the image disappears. The amulets can either send or receive; the sender wears it on her chest while the receiver sets his amulet on a flat surface and activates the mana stone."

"What is the amulet's range?" I asked her.

"Pretty much unlimited. During the War of the Daemo Princes, several satellite moons made of ghost-glass were sent into the sky to orbit the earth, and they let the amulets talk to one another wherever you are."

Moons sent into the sky? "Apologies, Asena, but how is that even possible?"

She snorted. "Child, there aren't words in any human language to explain the process. Just call it magic and leave it at that."

Greywolf set the amulet down on the table and cupped his hand around the mana stone. At once, the stone glowed blue, and a moment later a foot tall image of Fox appeared, floating a hand-span above the amulet. Her image looked solid, yet also soft, as if a painting had come to life. "Greywolf, thank the Dragon Queen you responded. All of you need to get away from Bukhara right now."

Greywolf frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Khan Timur. He needs a scapegoat to explain Yasataar's disappearance to the White Horde, so he's claiming you murdered her, then used magic to create an illusion that looked like her and spoke in her voice."

"Explaining why she dissolved when Kula touched her," I said, "except illusions never do that. They always pop like a soap bubble when they touch anything except another illusion."

"And Yasataar brushed against me going past," Greywolf added. "Fox, I can't make an illusion any more than I could transmute wood or heal. Timur should know that."

"Of course he does," Fox said, "but it doesn't matter because his people don't understand what you can or cannot do. The oath he swore means he can't attack you, or even take you captive, and that extends to his men as well. However, if you attack him first, then the oath’s broken, and he can have you thrown into the dungeon and tortured until you confess."

Greywolf gave her image an incredulous stare. "Wotan's blood, why would I attack him? I mean, all I want to do is shake the dust of Bukhara off my boots and never return."

"What if someone you loved was being tormented in his dungeon? Domina wanted him to swear never to defile Wysper, but he didn't do that."

The cold hand of fear runs an icy finger along my spine as Asena snarled, "I'll rip off his manhood and shove it down his throat if he tries."

"You'll have to stand in line," Castor growled. "I say we leave right now and use the White Horde as cover for our escape."

Fox's image shook her head. "The guards on the walls have orders to watch this inn, and report to their captain if they see you leave. Go out the back door. The buildings are tall enough to provide you cover, and once I leave Domina's room, I'll report to Timur that I contacted you and you're still planning to leave tonight."

"Castor," Greywolf said, "can we at least retrieve my armor and sword?"

"The guards will see you," Fox said before Castor could speak, "and know something is up. Have the Daemo mount wait for a time, then leave in the opposite direction to throw off the hunt." She hesitated a moment. "Greywolf, even if Timur captures you both, you and Wysper are too valuable to kill. Timur even admitted that himself."

My eyes narrowed. "Ishtar is the one behind this."

"Do you blame her?" Fox's expression turned sardonic. "According to Sybil, for the first time since the Sasnayams conquered Bukhara, Ishtar's fully charged with more mana than she's had in centuries. She's terrified of going back to the way she was."

Asena gave Fox's image a dark scowl. "For that matter, why are you helping us? You should be thinking of a way to have Wysper captured for your master."

"Khan Timur's not my master," Fox replied in a cool voice. "Domina is, and she wanted all of you to remain free. I do her will because I have to, though I will also do Timur's if he demands it."

"What if you did not have to please anyone else except yourself?" I asked. I was not sure why I did, except the longing in her eyes when she looked at Greywolf was making me uneasy. "What if you could do your own will and no one else's?"

Fox turned towards me and her gaze became... hungry. "I would become your bed-slave. You are the key to Greywolf, and I would make myself so indispensable to you that you’d beg Greywolf to give me what I want, rather than lose me." I was gaping at her like a fool and her expression turned sardonic. "You did ask."

"Daemo slut," Asena growled.

"Can you blame me? You let me taste your son, Asena, and now I understand why the Princes of my people went to war with the Celestials. The Daemo merchant who told me about Greywolf had, in her long life, tasted other Celestials before, but she said she'd never tasted anything like him. She told me the magic of the Shadowlands gave his blood a spicy flavor that made it unique.

“But there's more. The merchant also said the discipline you taught him, along with his good heart, made him the only Celestial she trusted with her life." Fox looked back at me. "If I am still alive when the Rune sword breaks, I will search for you, all the way to Britannia, if I must. Lady Jhadra taught me all of the sensual arts of Indus, and I will give you such nights of passion-"

Asena slammed her hand onto the table. All of us jumped as the image wavered, then disappeared as she pointed a black claw at Greywolf's face. "Never again," she snarls. "You are to never become carnal with another Daemo for the rest of your life. Do you hear me?"

Greywolf matched her glare for glare. "I didn't start down that road on my own, remember? I was pushed."

Asena raised her hand as if she was about to cuff him, then closed it into a fist. "Wysper," she said, continuing to stare at him, "don't ever let him be alone with another Daemo. Ghostdog had a weakness for them, and he gave that weakness to his son when he decided what traits Greywolf should have, and what ones he didn't think Greywolf would need." Her head turned towards me. "Am I making myself clear?"

I nodded quickly. "Yes, Asena."

"Good." Asena uncurled her fist and put both palms to her eyes. "We can't trust the Daemo not to betray us, yet to remain here is death. Castor," her hands returning to her sides, "tell Rocky to wait until it sees a company of guards coming out the main gate, and then escape using the migrating people as cover. We'll catch up to it on the road north." Asena looked at us. "You two follow me."

Greywolf and I followed Asena through the kitchen, while Castor went to the front door and opened it a crack. A pair of women were standing at the counter, chopping vegetables, and they scrambled out of our way as we raced past them towards the back door. Asena smacked it open, the door rebounding off its frame as we hurried through it into the cold sunshine.

To our right we passed a brush fence keeping a couple dozen chickens penned, Asena leading us at a jog through an extensive vegetable garden bedded down for the winter. She angled left towards a dirt track beyond it, lined with smaller buildings resembling houses with large gaps between them, and as we reached it, the jangling sound of someone running in leather armor got close. "Rocky's good," Castor said as he joins us. "Not happy, though."

Neither am I, holding the hem of my dress up so not to trip over it, as Asena growled, "I wish we had Titan here with us and not playing nursemaid."

"I didn't get a chance to tell you," Castor said while the few people using the track moved out of our way with troubled expressions. "Titan and Paulus are gone."

Asena gave him a dark look. "Gone where?"

"No one knows. They vanished out of the Dancing Direwolf before sunrise, and the gate guards swore they didn't leave the city."

"Shite," Greywolf said. "Sounds like things aren't going according to Timur's great plan."

"Save your breath for running," Asena growled at him. I was already panting as the track ended at the wide caravan road leading south. We cut across it onto a field of dry grass, and headed towards the hill overlooking the place where the dead, grey tree marked a weak spot in the fabric of our world, a league or so away.

Time passed, the stitch in my side easing as I found my rhythm, the cold air now comfortable as dry grass crunched beneath our feet. As we reached the hill and started up it, I moved next to Asena. "Are we traveling through the Shadowlands?"

She shook her head. "Too dangerous. We'll hide in the ruins until nightfall, then sneak-"

"Asena," Greywolf called out behind us in a sharp voice, "we've got a problem." I glanced back over my shoulder.

Off in the distance, a company of at least a hundred Warghorse warriors were riding hard to catch us.