Wysper - Old Bone Woman

It felt like we had been riding forever through shadowy shapes on an endless plain. But now, we had finally reached a disturbing, tree-like cluster of writhing tentacles, surrounded by stone slabs. Ghostdog had Attila direct all of us to form a circle looking outward, so anyone accidentally left in the Shadowlands would be noticed, before reaching out to grasp the grey mass. The air shimmered as a circular grey wave rolled outward past the leading edge, then back again.

Bringing the real world with it. Color returned as did the sun, and I breathed a sigh of relief as a cold wind off the steppes and hills around us brought with it the scent of dry grass and the stink of Warghorse. Attila began calling out orders in their harsh language as Greywolf joined me. "This is where the Daemo brought their captives, and their trail is so clear even Fox could follow it."

"So what is the plan?" Alar said as Rocky stopped next to the horse my brother and I were both sitting on.

We were on a flat, raised area, with hills to our right, and a steep slope leading down to the plains below. Greywolf motioned towards a spot where dark birds were circling something, several leagues away. "That's where the Horde clan's camp used to be. The Daemo didn't take anything except people, so we're riding down there long enough to let the Warghorses feed and rest for a bit before going after the monsters."

I asked, "How did the Daemo use the Shadowlands in the first place, when Fox is supposed to be the only Daemo Shadow-walker?"

"All the Daemo can use the Grey," Greywolf replied, "but they don't have any strength there. So they can only travel from one weak spot to another, and hope they don't run into any Shadow creatures."

Alar gestured towards the Warghorses. "Is it true these creatures eat corpses?"

Greywolf shrugged. "They'll eat pretty much anything. According to Attila, the infantry he left behind had orders to gather up their dead and keep the scavengers off them until the Warghorses returned."

"Yecch, that's disgusting."

Titan rumbled, "The tribal Horde clans consider it a natural part of life, and an honor. I spent a little time with Old Bone woman before we left, and she told me a few things she thought it important to know." His gaze went past us. "Speak Hel's name, and she appears." I turned my head in the direction he was looking.

A tall woman, wearing the same dark trousers and tunic as the rest of the Horde warriors, strode towards us through the dry grass. She was bone thin as Yasataar had been with a face stark as a skull. But her dark brown skin seemed flawless, and her long black hair had pieces of white ceramic ornaments braided into the tresses... wait, are those ceramic pieces? "That woman is not wearing pieces of bone in her hair, is she?"

Alar glanced back at me. "Finger bones and other small ones I didn't recognize. If I hadn't been dealing with the Picts regularly for the last couple years, I would've had a harder time accepting her." Greywolf raised his eyebrows at my brother, who shrugged. "Just wait until you see how the Picts get ready for battle."

The Warghorse riders in front of Old Bone woman had begun moving to either side, creating a path for her leading straight towards me as Ghostdog stopped beside Alar's horse. "You need to sit this one out, and Old Bone woman's being nagged to get your training started." He raised his arms and helped me off the horse. "There... and don't worry," Ghostdog said, giving me a reassuring smile as he patted my arm. "Attila's told everyone he's planning to make you his daughter, so no one will abuse you like they do the slaves."

My eyes widened at the last part as Greywolf got down off of Rocky. "Papa, shouldn't someone be left to guard them?"

"Safer without guards," Old Bone woman called out as she got close, her Greco-Roma rougher than I was used to hearing. "Say goodbye to Ghostdog's kit and let's go."

"Wysper's my kit as well, now," Asena growled, walking up beside us as Greywolf took me into his arms to give me a deep kiss. "Make sure she's still here when we get back."

Old Bone woman only snorted. "Bring Khan Attila back alive, and kit will be returned knowing more than she knows now." Greywolf and I let our tongues linger together an extra moment before ending the kiss, and Old Bone woman grasped my shoulder with a claw-like hand. "Wysper belongs to me until Khan Attila returns alive."

She pulled me from Greywolf's arms. Only his father's hand on his shoulder kept Greywolf from lunging at her, and I could practically feel the growl coming from deep inside Asena's chest. I took a deep breath. "Asena, I will be fine. Gratitude if you will guard Attila and keep him from doing anything rash." Her hairy face gave me a dubious look as I turned towards her son. "Woof, be careful."

Despite his anxiety for me, Greywolf smiled. "You too, Wysp. We'll be back before you know it."

Old Bone woman snorted again and pulled me with her as she returned the way she came, my feet stumbling a little before I caught myself and begin keeping pace. She muttered, "They think this over soon? When they see enemy, know better."

The Warghorse riders were staring down at us as we passed, their eyes crawling all over me as I matched her stride. Old Bone woman looked angry enough to chew up a rock and spit it out as pebbles. We moved past the warriors, and I breathed a secret sigh as I kept to her pace, the dry grass crackling under the soles of the new boots Asena had made for me. Summoning my courage, I said, "Apologies if I have given offense. That was not my intention."

Old Bone woman changed direction towards a set of steep hills at least a league away. "If you ever give offense, I let you know," she replied, giving me a sidelong look. Then her gaze snapped forward again. "Daemo creatures gave offense for stealing away tribe. Timur gave offense for forcing Yasataar to join the spirit world, and Yasataar gave offense for giving Timur no choice." Old Bone woman looked up at the sky. "And Tengri give offense for casting all fortunes on young shoulders."

I need to choose my words with care. "Is it permitted to be angry with your god?"

Her sidelong look returned, this time in puzzlement. "Of course. We give Tengri all praise, so he listen to complaints as well."

"I was never allowed to be angry at Yun-Kax... or at Pan, for that matter," I said as a memory of a druid priestess instructing us on the nature of Pan flashed through my mind.

Old Bone woman's eyebrows rose. "Interesting. Tell me about your time with the heart-eaters, beginning with the day you were stolen." I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it again as she raised her hand. "Spirits will be listening. To them, true words ring like steel swords, but false ones clatter like clay pots."

"I understand." I truly did not know whether to believe her or not, yet I also had no reason to lie. So, as we kept to her brisk pace, I briefly described the temple in Britannia, then told her everything I remembered about that awful day. As I went on telling her about being molded to serve Yun-Kax, she began asking me shrewd questions, at times going back to an earlier story before letting me continue.

I was in the middle of describing what I saw during the raid on Bukhara when she held up her hand again. "We have arrived." I blinked, shutting my mouth as I began paying attention to my surroundings. We were surrounded by rocky hills, with a large mound in front of us like a giant's two fists set together, and a large hole leading into the earth between fingers half-curled.

A dozen or so females wearing dark tunics and trousers were standing in front of the cave. Most of them were young Tartaros women, their hair either blood red like mine, or the orange-red color of fire. However, one had hair the golden yellow color of the bangs at my temples, while another woman, lighter skinned than the rest, had hair the color of fresh fallen snow. I reared back in astonishment. I had never seen another ice-storm mage in my life, other than Yrg.

Then my eyes went wide, for two of the females were Daemo with purple hair. Noticing my reaction, the one who resembled a slender, wide-eyed waif, with a Daemo's normal dark eyes, smiled. "Mother, I brought a skin of watered wine, as I know your guest may be thirsty. May I let her drink?"

Old Bone woman spoke in their harsh language for a short while. She motioned at my hands before saying something else, and there was a collective gasp among the females, including the Daemo. The slender Daemo pulled out the skin from behind her and held it up. "Here, let me squeeze a stream into your mouth."

I gave the Daemo a wary look. "I can hold the skin and do it myself."

The other Daemo was more angular and strong, with eyes as purple as her hair. "Mother told us to treat you as the heart-eaters did, and not let you use your hands."

I curled my arms to my chest, with my hands in fists under my armpits. "Is she going to cut off my hands?"

"She won't," the golden haired healer replied, placing her hand on my shoulder. "If anything, she wants to keep you off balance so you won't resist your training."

"Ever since Yasataar recast herself as a spirit," the tallest of the blood-mages said with a chuckle, "she's been plaguing mother to bring you here."

"She's a worse nag now than she was alive," the slender ice-storm mage added.

I looked around at them. "All of you speak Greco-Roma?"

"All the tribal Horde clans do," the waif-like Daemo said. "Each tribe speaks a different tongue than the others, and Greco-Roma lets everyone speak together without arguing over whose language should be used." I nodded in understanding as she held up the skin again. "Permission?" I opened my mouth and let her squeeze in a stream of water with enough wine to kill off any bad humors.

The Daemo let me drink my fill, then put the skin away as the healer touched my cheek with the back of her hand. "You're paler than anyone should be. Have you been ill?"

I shook my head. "This is my normal coloring."

The healer raised her eyebrows. "Truly?" I nodded, and she looked at Old Bone woman. "Mother, I should still examine her."

"Do it while walking in dream," Old Bone woman replied. She pointed at the Daemo holding the water-skin. "Willow, you and Shirr dream-walk too, show guest how Daemo sorcery works." Both Daemo inclined their heads as she turned back towards the healer. "Altani, draw half-breed into dream as well. Perhaps that will break bad mood."

Golden haired Altani inclined her head. "I will do as you desire, mother," she said, drawing me away with a gentle hand. "Come with me." Altani led me into the narrow opening with the two Daemo at our heels, while Old Bone woman drew the others around her as she begin speaking to them in their harsh tongue.

Deeper within, light illuminated the passage, which quickly expanded into a large chamber lit by oil lamps. The scent of almonds was strong in the air.

Niches had been chipped into the stone walls, holding not only lamps, but also ceramic jars and wooden boxes, while closed chests were set against the walls. In the center of the chamber, a stone fire pit had been lined with blackened bricks, its sullen coals making the air much warmer than outside. A small metal pot and a ceramic oven for baking sat beside it. As we headed towards another passage off the main chamber, I asked, "How is it possible that you have so many different types of mages?"

"During the war of the Princes," Altani said, "the Rainbow Dragon fought anything it came upon, Daemo or Celestial, and lost scales in the fighting. During the Horde clan's flight from the wild ogres, our ancestors came upon caches of scales and used them to give us an edge over the monsters and hostile tribes who attacked them."

"Tell the story true," angular Shirr said with a savage grin. "Your ancestors ripped them from the hands of dead shaman, killed when the Horde clans overwhelmed their villages." She turned towards me and the grin became wider. "They slew the warriors down to the last man, and culled out the weak, making slaves of everyone else."

"We did whatever it took to survive," Altani said as we entered another passage, lit by more oil lamps at the other end. As we got close to the light, she called out, "Khulan, it's me and the Daemo. We're bringing a guest."

I followed Altani into a smaller chamber, with sleeping mats and blankets settled around an enchanted device I recognized as a warming stone. A dark haired woman with broad shoulders huddled with her knees to her chest. Without looking up, she said,"Is it a slaver?"

There was a sharp note of exasperation in Altani's voice as she sighed. "If you'd died with our old khan, you would've never warned us, and we'd be slaves ourselves. Now, brace up and attend me; mother wants you with us when we dream-walk, and I examine Wysper."

Khulan looked up with a surprised expression. Her face had echos of the Tartaros steppes, but there was more of Germania, with eyes blue as the sky and higher cheekbones. There were also twin bangs of blood red hair at her temples the same shade as mine. "The same Wysper who had her heart ripped from her chest over and over again?"

"It was a mana node from my upper abdomen," I replied in a quiet voice, "which grew in a place easy to tear out. Muzen..." Bitterness stained my voice as I took a breath. "Muzen always waited until it was close to heart size before cutting it out as part of the ritual. I used to believe it actually was my second heart, but then, I used to believe in a lot of foolish things."

Golden haired Altani gently grasped my shoulder. "And I believe I know what mother wants me to look for when I examine you." She glanced over her shoulder. "Willow, will you get the vial of Dragon Tears from mother's chest?" The waif-like Daemo nodded and headed towards a shadowed corner of the chamber while Altani continued. "A drop of Dragon Tears under your tongue and under Khulan's, will put both of you into a dreaming state."

The broad shouldered woman asked, "Why me? I'm no dream-walker."

"I need you to act as Wysper's guardian," Altani replied without looking away from me. "Dragon Tears will put you into a dreaming state and keep you there a long time, without being able to break out of the dream. The spirits which inhabit the dream world are not always friendly or pleasant to look at, and a few will try to draw her away into dark places."

Altani's gaze focused on the woman now sitting cross-legged on a woven mat. "Your mission will be to drive them away. I'd normally ask Shirr to do this," the healer glancing at the angular Daemo and back again, "but I believe this is why mother insisted you come along."

I did not like the idea of being inside of a dream I could not get out of. "Why does your examination have to be done this way and not normally, like regular healers do?"

"Because when you are fully in the dream world, as the Dragon Tears will put you, your dreaming self with be an exact image of your real body, down to the smallest hangnail. What I've learned to do here is make parts of a person's body become clear as glass, beginning with their skin and working downward, until reaching parts of the body like a person's stomach, or a bad bone. With this skill, I've been able to find abnormal growths, or see a baby in their mother's womb and have an idea if it's a boy or girl." My mouth opened in shock and Altani smiled. "I taught the skill to Yasataar while she was alive, and when you finally meet her in the dream world, she will likely teach it to you."

"So I can teach it to my people." She inclined her head as I asked, "What is it you expect to find?" Altani hesitated, and I added, "Surely you must have some idea."

"She is thinking of a story told about the old Xian empire," Shirr said, "in the days when ancient Babylon was the most powerful nation in the west. Before Lady Sword-son led the rebellion that ended the old empire, the emperor's Daemo advisers had begun experimenting with discarded scales off the Rainbow Dragon, that the emperor had in his vault. They discovered that, if the blood scale was left on a woman's abdomen during her pregnancy, along with a different colored scale placed above it for a certain length of time, the woman's womb would be altered."

"Altered how?"

Willow returned with a small, green glass bottle in her hand. "Instead of giving birth to a female child having mana nodes as normal," she said, handing the vial to Altani, "the girl would eventually grow one large node which could then be cut away and used to enchant various mundane items." Willow motioned at me. "Like your blood corn, or a liquid the old empire used that would explode on contact, provided a fire scale was used along with an ice-storm one. However, once the wombs were altered, they were only able to support the growth of these mana nodes, and not children."

"Also," Shirr added, "the maidenhead needed to remain intact. Once the girl had carnal relations with a man-"

"The mana node stops growing. I know." Take a deep breath; you are Brittani, and you knew there would never be children. "I would like to know the truth as well, so I can pass the knowledge on to my people."

"Then we should begin." Altani removed the top from the small vial. "Khulan, if you're not willing to do this, I can ask mother to let Shirr take your place."

The young woman was already shaking her head. "No, mother was right. I need to pick up my spear again and fight, regardless of whether our people condemn me for cowardice or not."

"Besides," Shirr added, "I doubt mother would have agreed. She wants Wysper to know what is in store for her should Attila not return.