Catechist - A Triumph Of Souls Part 14

"No pond, Simna." The s.h.a.ggy biped stumbled, caught himself, and loped on. "Hunkapa see lake!"

Unless their hirsute companion's definition of a lake was radically different from their own, Ehomba knew they would soon reach a place of safety. Seemingly intent on proving that good news came in bunches, like grapes, the wind chose that moment to drop to almost nothing. The gra.s.s fire continued to burn behind them, but it was no longer racing south at high speed.

"Watch yourselves." The composed warning came from Ahlitah. "We're not alone. There are animals up ahead. Big animals."

"Of course there are," Simna wheezed. "Probably seeking safety in the lake just like we are."

"No." The big cat sounded puzzled. "Actually, they're coming this way."

That made no sense, Ehomba reflected as he ran, covering the uneven ground with long, supple strides.

His swords bounced against his back. Why would any creature deliberately be heading toward the fire, even if the wind had fallen?

As he topped a slight rise he saw them for himself, an irregular line of golden brown shapes arrayed between the fleeing travelers and the looming silvery sheen of the prairie lake. Its calm, expansive waters beckoned, promising relief from the heat and refuge from the raging blaze.

The beasts initially espied by the black litah boasted dark stripes along their lower flanks and each of their six legs. They had short, n.o.bby tails and oddly flattened skulls like the heads of digging spades. The slightly protuberant eyes that gazed out at the world from the upper corners of the weirdly triangular skulls were covered with transparent membranes that glistened in the sun. Double rows of sharp incisors were visible in the long, flattened jaws. From the summit of the skull projected a single bizarre horn that curved forward and up.

They were built like grazers, Ehomba saw; heavy of body, thick of fur, and short of leg. But their teeth were designed for biting and chewing flesh, not gra.s.s or other plant matter. Yet among the dozens of incisors he could see not a single canine tooth or tusk. Such teeth were suitable for biting off and slicing up large chunks of meat, but not for killing. This singular orthodontic arrangement marked them as scavengers. So did their stumpy legs, with which they could never hope to run down even the smallest of healthy herbivores.

As for what they scavenged, that was abundantly clear. At least two of the st.u.r.dy, stockily built creatures could be seen chewing on the charred, blackened remains of less fortunate animals that had been mortally injured by the fire. Apparently these extraordinary beasts tracked the advancing flames much as the opportunistic raptors hunted in front of them. Since they plainly could not move very fast and would be unable to outrun any blaze, he decided, they must be exceptionally sensitive to the smallest s.h.i.+fts in the fire's or wind's direction.

Moments later, evidence was given to show that he was only partially correct. The bizarre hexapods did indeed feed upon those unfortunate creatures who had been caught and killed by the flames. But the striped carnivores were not scavengers: They were hunters. They did not follow behind the gra.s.s inferno or measure its progress from in front.

They caused it.

Even as he and his companions ceased running and slowed to a stop, the true function of the curious "horns" that projected from the center of each of the beasts' foreheads made itself known. They were not horns at all, but hollow structures formed of hardened keratin. From these organic nozzles the slow-moving carnivores expressed streams of liquid that caused the long, dry gra.s.s to ignite on contact.

Flames erupted between the fleeing travelers and the lake as the line of beasts began to set fire to everything in their path.

And the wind was rising again.

Enclosed by raging wildfire, the only place in the vicinity that promised any safety was the stream. Barely a few feet wide and not as deep, it offered only temporary shelter at best to Ehomba and Simna.

Hunkapa Aub and Ahlitah were far too bulky to be able to conceal themselves beneath the rus.h.i.+ng waters.

Had they made an immediate charge, they might have succeeded in bursting through the oncoming flames with only minor burns. Already, that option was denied them. Like the gra.s.sland behind, the fresh growth ahead was now fully engulfed.

With the flames advancing and the heat rising from the merely uncomfortable to the unbearable, they cl.u.s.tered together. Trapped within his thick, s.h.a.ggy coat, Hunkapa Aub was suffering terribly and on the verge of pa.s.sing out. They had to do something quickly.

Head inclined forward, Ehomba was searching the tops of the gra.s.ses intently. An agitated Simna watched him, wondering what he was doing when they should be picking a direction in which to make a run for it.

"Bruther, there's nothing there but gra.s.s!" Above the roar of the approaching flames he gestured sharply to his left. "I say we try back to the west. The stream should delay the fire for a minute or two!" Instead of responding, the herdsman maintained his intent exploration of the wind-whipped yellow-green blades.

"Etjole! We're out of time! What are you looking for?"

His lanky friend replied without looking up from his search. "Tomuwog burrows! They are our only chance."

"Whatburrows?" Sweat streaming down his face and neck to stain his s.h.i.+rt, the swordsman blinked as his companion continued what appeared to be an aimless examination of the gra.s.s. Why, he wasn't even directing his attention groundward, where one's gaze would be expected to be focused if he was hunting for some kind of den.

It made no sense. Never mind that Simna had never heard of a tomuwog and had no idea what such a creature might look like. Even if it dug a burrow large enough for a human to crawl into, anything large enough to accommodate Hunkapa Aub or the black litah would have to be a veritable cave, harder to avoid seeing than not. And they had pa.s.sed no such opening in the earth in the course of their flight. With the constricting blaze crackling all around, he turned a slow circle. There were a few small holes in the ground, the largest of which would prove a tight squeeze for a corpulent mouse. Anyone trying to burrow away from the flames would need not only a physical refuge, but one large enough to sustain a sizable air pocket.

"Bruther, this is crazy!" Spreading his hands wide, he implored his companion. "We have to make a break for it! Otherwise we'll ..."

Ehomba disappeared. Not instantly, as if he had evaporated in the rising heat or vanished into some sorceral otherwhere, but gradually. It happened right in front of the swordsman's disbelieving eyes. One moment the tall southerner had been standing before him, scanning the tops of the blowing gra.s.s. Then he started to go away. First his long spear, prodding and probing. Then the hand and arm holding it, followed by the rest of him, until all had been erased from view.

Simna was not the only one startled by the herdsman's unexpected and inexplicable disappearance.

Hunkapa Aub walked all around the area where Ehomba had vanished, and Ahlitah paced the spot sniffing like a huge black dog.

The flames were closing in, narrowing the circle of unburned gra.s.s and breathable air. Simna started to cough, choking on the ashes from the carbonizing vegetation and the air that had begun to sear his lungs.

Surely Ehomba hadn't abandoned them for some mystical refuge only he could access? The swordsman had to admit that such a development was not beyond the bounds of possibility. How often had Ehomba spoken of the need first and foremost to fulfill his perceived responsibility to the deceased scion of distant Laconda? How many times had he made it clear, to Simna as freely as to total strangers, that the resolution of that journey took precedence over everything else?

A sweating Simna ibn Sind scanned his surroundings. Encircled by leaping flames, with the earth itself seemingly beginning to incinerate around him, he saw nowhere to run, no place to hide. This was not a good place to die, out in open country witnessed only by insects and rodents, his body about to become food for indolent meat-eaters that under normal circ.u.mstances he could run circles around. From the time he had been old enough to understand the significance of life and the finality of death he had planned to depart this plane of existence in a blaze of glory that would be immortalized in ballad and song. Now it seemed he was to expire simply in a blaze, as something else's dinner. Where were the cheers, the shouts to admire him as mind and body shriveled and dissolved? The circ.u.mstances were ignominious to a fault.

On the verge of pa.s.sing out from the encroaching heat, Hunkapa Aub had fallen to his knees. Panting like a runaway bellows, the black litah sat back on his haunches, waiting for the end.

Then a hand appeared out of nowhere, beckoning. It was followed by a familiar face. "Hurry! There is little time."

"We don't need you to tell us that, bruther!" Without stopping to realize that Ehomba was beckoning to him from within a circle of nothingness, Simna stumbled toward the gesturing hand.

It grabbed hold of his own and pulled. Almost immediately, the unbearable heat disappeared. The swordsman found himself standing in a corridor of coolness. Mere feet away now, the fire continued to rage. But he could no longer feel it.

Mouth slightly agape in wonder, he extended tentative fingers toward the blaze. They halted inches from the nearest tongue of flame. Pus.h.i.+ng experimentally, he found that there was a slight give to the invisible surface that kept him separated from instant incineration, as if he were pressing against transparent rubber. There was no noise. Whatever was protecting him from the flames also shut out all sound from beyond.

Turning, he reached out in the opposite direction. The corridor in which he was standing was no more than six feet wide, in places a little less. As he stared in amazement, the flames seemed to burn right through to continue their march of fiery destruction on the other side. Within the miraculous pa.s.sageway everything was a calm, cool blue-green: the soaring but silent flames, the scorched earth they left in their wake, the bodies of small animals too slow to flee, even his own clothing and flesh.

Looking back the way he had come, he saw that Ehomba too had acquired a soft tinting of pastel blue-green. So had Hunkapa Aub, who had followed the swordsman to safety. Reflecting his own coloring, Ahlitah was a dark shade of green. Among them all, Simna was the lightest in color.

Walking back toward his friend, he found that he could begin to feel the heat from the fire again.

Pivoting, he discovered that as soon as he took a few steps in the opposite direction, the threatening warmth dissipated. Hunkapa Aub joined him to make more room near Ehomba.

"Where are we?" the swordsman heard himself wondering aloud. He did not expect an explanation from the hulking Hunkapa, much less a reasonable one.

A hairy hand reached out to stroke the resilient, transparent wall. "Somewhere else." It was as sensible an answer as Simna could have hoped to receive.

As soon as the black litah had been brought to safety, Ehomba squeezed past them to take the lead again. Gesturing for them to follow, he led the way through the last of the fire, heading west once again.

Behind, the line of pyro predators began to root among the charred rubble for well-done meals.

The blue-green corridor was not straight. It changed direction several times, winding through unburned brush and gra.s.s, down gullies, and up over small hills. After an hour of this, Simna was moved to comment.

"It's not for me to question how you saved us, bruther, but we're well away from that range fire and the creatures that keep it going. Why can't we just step back out into the real world?" Behind him, Hunkapa Aub was having to advance bent double. The ceiling of the pa.s.sageway was not much higher than the corridor was wide.

"You can try," Ehomba informed him without looking back, "but I do not think you will have much luck."

Taking this as a challenge, the swordsman pushed against the pellucid barrier. Beyond, unburned brush pressed right up against it, and a pair of small yellow and black birds were courting only inches from his questing fingers. Ordinarily, they would have fled in panic, chirping wildly. But they did not seem to see or smell him and did not react to his near presence at all.

He pushed harder, then leaned all his weight against the boundary.

"Here. Let me try." Stepping up beside him, the black litah lifted a paw to expose five-inch-long talons, pointed like knives and sharp as razors. Claw and dig as he might, they made absolutely no impact on the wall. The litah could not even leave scratches. It was the same with the dark blue-green floor underfoot.

Having stood patiently by while his friends satisfied their curiosity, Ehomba now turned and once again headed off westward. A thoughtful, somewhat chastened Simna followed. He was not upset or uneasy: only curious.

It was delightfully cool within the corridor, with even the sun having acquired a blue-green tinge. The surface underfoot was smoother than the ground outside but not slippery: ideal for running. Only the absence of water concerned him. Their water bags were more than half full, but despite the containers he toted on his back, Ahlitah needed to carry drink for Hunkapa Aub as well. That portable source would begin to run out in less than a couple of weeks.

In response to his query, Ehomba a.s.sured him that he had no intention of keeping to the corridor for anywhere near that length of time. His sole intention in disappearing into it was to find a means of escape and a temporary refuge from the fire.

"What is this place, bruther?" Within the pa.s.sageway, voices acquired a deeper cast, reverberant and slightly echoing.

"I told you when I was looking for one." The herdsman angled to his right. "Careful, there is a bend here. We are in a tomuwog burrow."

"Hoy, this is a burrow?" Looking to right and left, Simna could see clearly in every direction. The only difference from what he would have accounted as normal was that everything he saw was tinted varying degrees of blue-green. "By Geletharpa, what is a tomuwog? I've never heard of such a creature, much less seen one."

"You will not see one," Ehomba told him. "Unless you know how to look for them. They are difficult to track, even for the Naumkib. I am considered one of the best trackers in my tribe. There is no reason to hunt them, since they make poor eating. But in times of difficulty, their burrows can provide a place to hide. We were lucky." He started to slow. "Ah, this is what I was looking for. We can rest here awhile."

A baffled Simna slowed his own pace to a walk. Try as he might, he could discern no difference in their surroundings, and said so.

As he took a seat and began to unburden himself of his weapons and pack, Ehomba smiled patiently.

"Stretch out your hands. Walk around a little."

The swordsman proceeded to do so. To his surprise, he discovered that they had entered a blue-green chamber some twenty feet in diameter. The ceiling had also expanded, allowing poor Hunkapa Aub to straighten up at last. He stretched gratefully.

Simna found himself drawn to a seven-foot-wide zone of glistening aquamarine-tinted light. It formed a translucent mound that reached perhaps a fourth of the way to the ceiling. Extending a hand, he found that his fingers pa.s.sed completely through the phenomenon, as would be expected of something that was composed entirely of colored light.

"What's this? Some distortion in the corridor?"

"Not at all." Taking his ease, Ehomba was unpacking some dried fruit from his pack. "That is a tomuwog nest." When the swordsman drew his hand back sharply, his lanky friend laughed softly. "Do not worry. It is empty. It is the wrong time of the year."

While Hunkapa Aub sighed heavily and stretched out on the floor, trying to work the acc.u.mulated cricks and contractions out of his neck and back, the black litah explored the far side of the enclosure. Realizing that he was hungry too, Simna rejoined his friend. Outside, beyond the walls of the enchanted chamber, blue-green antelope were methodically cropping blue-green gra.s.s, entirely oblivious to the presence of the four travelers conversing and eating not more than a few feet away.

"These tomuwogs," the swordsman began, "what do they look like?"

"Not much." Ehomba gnawed contentedly on dried pears and apples. "The tomuwog live in the s.p.a.ces between colors." Mouth half full, he gestured with his food. "That's where we are. In one of the s.p.a.ces between blue and green."

"Excuse me, bruther? That doesn't make any sense. There is no s.p.a.ce between colors." The swordsman's brow furrowed as he struggled with a concept for which he had no reference points.

"There's blue, and then there's green. Where and when they meet, they melt together." He made clapping motions with his hands. "There's no 's.p.a.ce' between them."

"Ordinarily there is not," Ehomba readily agreed. "Except where the tomuwog dig their burrows. It is just a tiny s.p.a.ce, so small you and I cannot see it. Cats can." He nodded to where the litah was still exploring the far reaches of the chamber, poking his head into bulges and side corridors. "Ask Ahlitah about it sometime."

"But this is not a tiny s.p.a.ce we have been running through, and are sitting in now," Simna pointed out.

"Quite true. That is because it has been enlarged by one or more tomuwog to make a burrow." He gestured with his free hand. "As I have already told you, this is one of their nesting chambers. Tomuwog burrows are hard to see and harder to find, as you would expect of something that only occupies the s.p.a.ce between colors. I was hunting for one while the fire was closing in around us. As I said, we were lucky to find it." Finis.h.i.+ng the pear, he started on a dehydrated peach.

"The walls of their burrows are very tough. They would have to be, or people would stumble into and break through them all the time."

"And we've pa.s.sed these things before?" Simna made stirring motions in the air with one downward-pointing finger.

"Of course. They are not common, but are widespread. I remember a particularly large burrow from the mountains near Netherbrae, and one in the desert where we encountered the mirage of the houris. And there were a number of others."

"By Guoit, why didn't you ever point one out to me, bruther?"

Ehomba shrugged. "There was no need to. You would not have enjoyed entering them anyway. Most were warm burrows."

The swordsman's expression twisted. "There are different kinds of burrows?"

"Certainly. It depends which colors the tomuwogs are burrowing between. If red and yellow, which are hot colors and seem to be more common, then the burrow will be warm, or even scalding. If the blue is separated by black instead of green, then conditions inside the burrow can be extremely cold." He smiled appreciatively. "Blue-green is best, though it is still a little warm for running. A darker blue, more indigo, would have made for an even more comfortable refuge."

Simna sat shaking his head in amazement and disbelief. "To think that such wonders exist all around us, in every time and place, and want only the knowing of them to be seen and utilized."

"Oh, there is much more, my friend. Much more." The herdsman bit into a large, crunchy piece of preserved apple. "The world is awash in marvels that most men never see. Usually it is because they are too busy, too hurried, to look. Looking takes time. One does not become a good tracker overnight."

Simna nodded slowly. "Or a good hand with a sword. In the learning of that, I bled a lot. It took me many years, many curses, and many cuts before I became proficient."

"As does the acc.u.mulation of any worthwhile knowledge," Ehomba agreed.

Tilting and turning his head, Simna took in more of the remarkable chamber. "The corridor we came through was not large for a person, but pretty big for a burrowing animal. These tomuwogs must be of good size."

"See for yourself." Putting the remainder of his food down slowly and carefully, Ehomba nodded to his right. "Here comes one now."

XIII.

Simna paused with food halfway to his mouth. Sensing the approach of the burrow's owner, the black litah growled a warning as it moved off to one side. Eyes s.h.i.+ning, Hunkapa Aub put both hands together and murmured delightedly.

"Pretty, pretty."

The adult tomuwog was bigger than any of the travelers, but it was only partially there. A glittering, roughly cylindrical shape, it entered the nesting chamber on noiseless feet of aquamarine light. One moment it stood out in sharp relief, the next it was reduced to a drifting cloud composed of splintered sapphires. With each step, portions of its supple, streamlined body slipped in and out of sight. Half solid, half illusion, it inspected them warily out of eyes that were pale blue mother-of-pearl.

It had a short tail that struck blue-green sparks from the air as it flicked nervously from side to side, and a narrow snout of a face that glittered as if faceted. Huge sparkling pads front and rear resembled flippers more than feet. The edges of these appendages caught the ambient light and bounced it back in clipped, prismatic jolts to the retinas of onlookers. The s.h.i.+mmering claws had to be sharp, Simna reflected, to slice a path between two colors.

Filtered blue-green light danced off the creature's flanks, so bright that from time to time the entranced intruders were forced to turn their faces away from so much brilliance and blink away tears. Simna found himself wondering what a tomuwog that inhabited the s.p.a.ce between red and orange might look like, or between purple and red. Certainly they would be no less colorful than the singular slow-moving one before them.

That the tomuwog was aware of their presence there could be no doubt. Twinkling eyes examined each of them in turn. Upset at their presence but apparently convinced they posed no immediate threat, it proceeded to haul itself over to the glittering, glimmering nest and settle itself atop the pile of carefully scavenged color.

Resuming eating, but slowly so as not to startle the placid creature, Simna leaned over to whisper to the herdsman. "Where do they come from, bruther? Eggs?"

"I am not sure." Observing the remarkable beast, Ehomba wore a satisfied smile. "I believe they lay light. This light then matures according to the predominating colors within which it is brought up, and becomes a full-grown tomuwog. As I have said, they are shy creatures and difficult to see. They almost never wander outside their burrows."

A sudden thought caused the swordsman to put down the remainder of his food. "Hoy, what do they eat? Doesn't look like it has any teeth."

"That is a real mystery, Simna." In contrast to his hesitant companion, Ehomba had no trouble finis.h.i.+ng his food. "No one has ever seen a tomuwog eating. I would not think there was much to eat between blue and green, but if my elders had not explained it to me I would not have thought there was much s.p.a.ce there, either. Perhaps they forage on little bits of wandering moonlight, or the motes we see dancing in a shaft of afternoon suns.h.i.+ne. Since no one knows what they eatwith, it is understandable that n.o.body knows what they eat." Seeing the look on his friend's face, he added, "Whatever it is, I do not think that people are a part of its diet."