The Dance Eternal

ch 33

33

The Respected Liege of the Dia'Novestri shut the door to his chamber as Narraya passed through, crossed the room and flounced into one of several overstuffed seats by the fireplace. He moved toward another chair, unbuckling the heavy cloak of his station and laying it gently across the back of an adjacent sofa.

He paused, “Shall I send for something? Have you eaten, or would like something to drink?” He was practicing at his etiquette as Hie'd had suggested a few days ago, and she took notice.

“No, thank you, father. I actually have something to drink, here,” she replied, her impish smirk one he recognized. “It's fresh,” she added.

He sat across from Narraya, “That was good out there – you followed my lead without missing a beat.” He beamed a father's pride in his smile at her, and she nodded, both happy at the praise, and a little embarrassed.

“I am not dumb, father - I can pick up a cue,” she replied, her tone glib but full of respect. “I apologize for the trouble caused by my entrance, but this is quite urgent.” She leaned forward in her chair and placed a bundle on the polished table between them. The Liege watched, wondering at what drink came in a bottle with that oddly rounded shape, but thirsty and anticipating something to sate.

“Daughter, you cause much more trouble, for us both, when you leave without saying anything to anyone. Your return is both welcomed and relieving,” He was still watching her hands and missed the departure of her grin as she pulled at the edges of the cloth; as they fell away, so did his anticipation. What she unwrapped were several pods of waterjug cactus that she'd cut from the desert. He looked at them flatly. “And? ”

She drew her knife and stabbed one, immediately pulling the blade free and wiping it on the cloth. Her father idly stared at the slit the blade left, fully knowing what to expect. He was about to ask for her point, but instead closed his mouth and began a slow lean forward. The clear, fresh water he expected to see seeping from the wound never came. Instead, a sickly green goop began to slowly bubble out.

“Okay, that is not funny,” he said as a cripplingly strong and fetid odor reached his nose – a nauseating mix of the lightly sweet aroma of grilled cactus flesh and the acrid, soul-filled stench of a city put to the torch. The stuff oozed down the side of the cactus barrel, blackening the plant's flesh in a widening path with it's passing.

“What...?” He didn't finish the question. With his attention on the table, he failed to notice Narraya gazing intently at the plant, her brow furrowed in concentration, and just before the slime began to pool on the table, the plant and goo all shimmered, then seemed to fold over itself and rotate in place before the whole vanished completely. The display caused her father to jerk back in his chair, and he wiped a hand down his beard, “Such power you've come to wield...” He saw that the table now sported a scorch that was striated with an odd, circular pattern that matched the plant's odd rotation. A small, single trail of smoke drifted upward like a flag of surrender.

“Apologies, father, but the stuff is corrupting to nearly anything it touches.” She pulled another larger bundle from her pack and unfolded it, revealing the remains of her leather breastplate. The ornate scroll work that usually adorned the front of the master-crafted armor was gone, a hole where it would be. Around the hole, the edges of the leather were blackened, rolled and hardened as of by intense heat.

“That stuff did this,” he asked, pointing from the scorch to the armor. He tsked, “And I just had that work done for your last birthday.”

She nodded. “It is worse, father. There is a... a thing... that is covered with this. It seems to be made of it.” Her expression was both of disgust and despair. “I saw it... devour... some of the Kham-tho. Father, it turned them into... more of itself...”

Her father watched her as she spoke, saw the horror of what she had seen reflected in her eyes. “Where did you see this, Narraya? You obviously weren't harmed, but were you seen? I grew concerned when we received reports of the Kham using explosives near one of our outposts.”

“I am fine, father. I... was pursued for a short time yesterday, but...”

“You were being followed?” He was nearing agitation, and she moved to intervene.

“Father,” she soothed, “It is well, please. Ta is good at what she does – she dig us into the old passages, and we came most of the way back through-”

“You were in the old passages... again?” He was not really surprised, was indeed relieved. Those passages are mostly known only to the Dia, so they would be an ideal way to traverse the deserts. The largest reason they fell into disuse was the advent of flight, then space travel.

Narraya heaved the sigh of one caught, “Yes, but we were very watchful, I promise. It was the only way – the Kham's sand skiffs have gotten faster.” She paused, trying to get back on track, then, “That was yesterday, as I said. But, when I found where that ooze comes from, I was actually past the Hills about a day-and-a-half. I found a shrine, or something like a shrine. It was not like anything I have ever seen, or even heard about. There were Kham shaman totems hanging around the outside, and inside were panels and consoles, like at our spaceports, but the characters on the screens were... another language, I think. Khordan seemed to recognize something there, and we found a passage that led deeper. We explored further and found the remains of the ship that brought him here.”

The Liege sat up a little, “Really? That is news you have been hoping for, is it not?”

“It is. But also,” here she quieted, and fear seeped into her voice, “I've seen the Ca-zeed.”

“The what?” The name struck something in his memory. No, not his memory. The inheritance of the Respected Liege, or one of, is an ancestral memory of past leaders, particularly those of exceptional character. When Narraya said Ca-zeed, it was like half of those past Lieges trembled at once with fright in his brain. When she pointed to the blackened table, he nodded his understanding. “What do they look like? You said you saw one.”

She visibly shivered with the memory, “They stand bipedal, like us, but look like clear sewer sludge liquid held in that shape. Their... appendages... are very flexible, and they have great reach. And they can be quick, especially when lashing out. Their... stuff... coating... it covers their victims. It seems to move of the creature's will... or possibly it's own.”

She shook her head, unable to bear the memory any longer. Even Khordan shivered in the corner of her mind, adding to her own tremble.

“Did you see these Ca-zeed at the shrine you found?”

“Oh, no. See, there were items that had been taken from the ship; various components, equipment and containers. One was a scanner we could easily replicate and use in our mining. Khordan could still detect it – you know how he is with tech. The ones who took it were not too far ahead of us. It was actually their presence that helped us find the ship in the first place. We followed, since it was only two of the Kham-tho, but they returned to their fellows before we could catch up. That was when I saw the Ca-zeed.

“Khordan suspects that it was in something that the Kham took – he has said that they are able to hide in very small spaces, but are detectable if you know how to look.” She took a breath, and her expression fell further, more grave than her father had ever seen on her face.

“Father, the Kham-tho were devoured – at least ten total – in less than three minutes,” she continued, at once horrified and fascinated, “they assimilate their victims, a process that takes a mere few moments, it seems. By the time it was done, there were a dozen Ca-zeed, and no Kham-tho. As I left, they had each faced a different direction and began shuffling in a straight line. They way they moved, even when attacking – they seemed to be acting almost as if by another's direction.” She finished with a huff, her face screwed-up, flustered at not being able to find better words.

He had a sudden thought, “Is one coming this way?”

“No... I don't think so.” She was failing miserably at trying to hide her uncertainty.

“I will send word with what to look for,” he said, nodding with the hopes that it was hiding the effect of a growing knot in his gut. “There is more, isn't there,” he asked, and she nodded, leaning forward.

She reached into her pack a third time, producing another leather-wrapped bundle, and her father recognized the rigidness of the hardness effect her abilities could produce on softer materials.

“There are more, father. More like Khordan. One called out... or maybe... announced...” She was trailing, off, muttering and becoming a bit exasperated while unfurling the leather-wrap as the hardness faded. Inside was a disc of unknown material; it's diameter covered her whole hand and was a couple fingers thick, and it's high polish and dark grayish color made it tough to decide whether it was a dark stone, or a metal, possibly with paint. She pushed off the last of the wrap, and her fingers came to rest on the object's surface.

“Narraya,” he said in concern, her eyes becoming intensely focused; since the 'awakening' of her abilities as a youth, one of their shared secrets was that her pupils, the Twinned pupils of their people, would join when she manifested some effects. They were now a single inky spot in the center of each eye, and while they were focused, it was on some distant point.

She muttered quietly to herself (or maybe with Khordan, as she sometimes did), while her fingers began to idly wander on the object's surface. He looked closer at the 'stone'; a tangle of lines precisely chiseled into it's surface formed a star with eight points. Those points just barely pierced the edges of a thick circle that otherwise surrounded the star. The space created by the convergence of the star's lines was concave, tiered three times, and in the center of the lowest plane, a small hole – barely enough to fit in a lock pick – was the only feature. Seeming to float just above the stone's entire top surface, odd glowing characters, bent and twisted shapes, gave off an eerie luminescence and warped around Narraya's finger as she traced the chiseled lines.

Sudden recognition of the carved symbol hit the Liege like a sandstorm, and he grabbed her wrist, attempting to break her contact with the stone, “Where did you find that,” he demanded urgently.

Her eyes met his, though her focus was leagues away, and the glowing runes flashed brightly enough to make him squint; he saw a... he resembled the description of the Homanis that travel the stars. The man somewhat long and dark-hair, and wore odd clothes – blue breeches and a dark coat made of the reversed skin of an unknown, once fluffy creature. Another Homanis appeared next him, taller and wearing a confident smile, while something large and white loomed in the background.

The image flickered and was gone in a breath; both were unsure it had even happened, their only evidence the raging headaches they now felt. The object had fallen from her hand with the vision's last flicker, and landed on the table with a single thunk... on it's edge. As their sight returned to normal, they saw the thing on it's end, slowly rotating horizontally like a coin while the glowing symbols slowly pulsated.

“D-did that... what was that?” Narraya was woozy, and her hand went to her forehead, though she kept her eyes on the thing.

Her father sighed, sinking back into his chair. “That, daughter, is an Ixus artifact. You know those are dangerous for us to even touch.”

“I'm sorry, father. I just... I...” Her eyes widened, “Oh... no...”

Outside, one, then several of the crank-operated alarms spun-up across the city.