The Sword Of Angels

46

On the ridge below the peak of the mountain, a thousand years of wind and rain had carved catacombs into the rock. The ever-melting snow, dripping down from what seemed like the roof of the world, became gushing rivers in the rainy days of Spring, flooding the caves and turning ground loose and dangerous. Of all the countless, meandering catacombs, one stood out importantly from the rest, larger and grander than its ugly siblings, its mouth filled with tooth-like stalactites, its dark recesses thick with rolling mist. Just beyond its holy threshold, the world outside disappeared, devoured by the sounds of water and the hiss of rumbling vapour.

Lahkali entered the cavern knowing it was the one. There was no premonition in the decision. It was simply as Karoshin had described it — magnificent and unmistakable. As she crossed the ridge and stepped inside, she felt the warm breeze of unseen fires strike her face. The cavern glistened with green light, the incandescence of countless gemstones glowing in the rock. Along the ground rushed a torrent of water, higher than Lahkali’s ankles. Beneath it, her feet shuffled carefully across the gravelly floor. In both hands she held the katath out before her. The weapon trembled in her grip. She scanned the cavern without blinking. Her wide eyes caught every nuance of the place.

Beneath her rain-soaked gown of scarlet, the Eye of God pulsed against her chest. Looking down, she could see its red jewel behind the wet silk. She paused, trying to feel its unnatural power. The ruby burned against her skin, but that was all. Confused, she touched it with her hand, trying to summon the great god within its gold. Lukien had told her it would keep her safe, but Lahkali felt nothing, and now the warning the Bronze Knight had given came back to her quickly.

‘You may feel nothing,’ Lukien had told her. ‘But when you need him, Amaraz will strengthen you.’

He had placed the amulet around her neck with his own hands, divesting himself of its power with an odd smile on his face. Together they had stared at each other, and Lahkali had watched the pain on his face as the old wounds crept back to claim him. Within minutes, he had been almost unable to stand.

‘Go,’ he had urged her. And she had. She had left him, and whether or not Lukien still lived Lahkali did not know. With tears in her eyes she had climbed the ridge, leaving him and the others behind to find the Great Rass. Now, touching the amulet, Lukien’s kindness overwhelmed her.

‘I’m here,’ she told the spirit inside the Eye. ‘Can you hear me?’

Her whisper echoed through the green haze, but the spirit of the amulet did not reply. Lahkali licked her lips. Her people were well-accustomed to spirits. It was a secret she had never shared with Lukien, or any other outsider. Because she herself had spoken to the dead, the thought of communing with the amulet’s ghost did not frighten her. Rather, she was surprised not to hear its voice, not even silently, within her soul.

‘Lukien tells me you are a great being,’ she whispered, hoping to coax the spirit’s trust. ‘I need your help now, Amaraz. I know you’re angry with Lukien, but he did what he thought was right. Will you help me, Amaraz?’

Amaraz did not reply. His silence unnerved Lahkali. She peered deeper into the haze, looking beyond the gems that twinkled along the rock walls. Beyond the mist was darkness, and from the darkness came the heat, like the breath of a dragon, striking Lahkali’s face. She held tightly to the amulet, trying to glean some strength from it.

‘I know you’re inside,’ she whispered. ‘I know you are with me. The spirits of all my people are with me, too, Amaraz. I speak to them in the garden. Do you know that? Have you seen?’

She supposed there really were no secrets from a god like Amaraz, but if he had ever seen her in the story garden, he clearly had never told Lukien. She wondered why the spirit was so silent, not only to her but to Lukien as well. Her feet were leaden as she considered going further.

‘Protect me, Amaraz,’ she asked. ‘I have to do this thing.’

Lukien felt the cold water running against his back, cooling the wound that bloomed like magic between his shoulders. The mud of the earth took away some of the pain, but the pain 9/14/2010was growing now, coiling around him like the fingers of a giant. Fighting to control his shallow breathing, he imagined himself in a very different place, away from the cold rains of the mountain, back in the warm sands around Jador. He imagined the peace of the desert, and his heartbeat managed to slow. Overhead, he saw the troubled eyes of Karoshin, looking down over him the way a mother might a sick child. Next to the priest, Niharn knelt in the mud, staring peculiarly at Lukien. Niharn could not understand, but the sacrifice seemed to impress him. He nodded as Karoshin spoke, trying to comfort Lukien.

‘. . as soon as it is done. When you have the amulet back you will be well again, you’ll see.’

Lukien only half heard Karoshin. The intensity of the wound on his back made listening difficult. He gulped the air, but somehow getting enough was impossible. He dug his fingers into the ground, feeling his nails scrape the stones. He was not afraid of dying, but death had not come the way he had supposed. He remembered now how Cassandra had died. Once the spell of the amulet was broken, her cancer had devoured her. Like an inferno, it consumed her. Lukien closed his eyes, searching for what had gone wrong. The wound along his back had been given to him by Trager. They had battled on a mountaintop and Lukien had won, cutting off his enemy’s head and tossing it over the cliff side, but not before taking a mortal blow. Trager’s blade had cut him deep, and when he collapsed Lukien had thought it would be his end, but then he had awoken, alive, with the Eye of God around his neck.

‘What’s happening?’ he heard Niharn whisper. ‘Why is he still alive?’

Karoshin shook his head. ‘Lukien,’ he asked gently. ‘Is this right? Should it be this way?’

Lukien managed to raise his head, but Karoshin set it back down. ‘No,’ said the priest. ‘Lay still. I’m sorry. Do not speak.’

Lukien grabbed his knee and dug his fingers into Karoshin’s flesh. ‘The spell,’ he choked. ‘The spell.’

Karoshin did not understand. ‘All right,’ he whispered.

‘Breaking the spell killed Cassandra,’ Lukien went on. ‘That’s it.’

In his frantic state of mind, he could think of no other answer. Though he no longer wore the Eye of God, the spell that had long protected him had not really been broken, the way it had with Cassandra. He had merely given the Eye away.

‘That’s it,’ he gasped, laughing. ‘But I die, Karoshin, to be sure!’

Karoshin’s smile was kind. ‘Stay awake, Lukien. Wait until Lahkali returns.’

‘No. .’

‘You must,’ said Karoshin. ‘Why die?’

Lukien closed his eyes, and for a moment felt serene. ‘To go to a better place. .’

Deeper and deeper Lahkali went into the mountain, and the light of the gems did not diminish. Like torches they lit her way, beckoning her forward, urging her through the meandering cavern. No longer could she see the exit. Up above, the roof of the cave soared. She looked down and watched the water running past her feet, cold and crystal clear. And somehow, she was sure she had reached the Great Rass.

But Lahkali could not see the beast, nor could she hear or smell it either. She simply knew, because her fear took hold so deeply in her bones that her fingers ached and her tongue dried up. In her hands she held the katath, keeping it low the way Lukien and Niharn had taught her. In her lessons, she had learned how to bring it up quickly, thrusting that one, deadly thrust that might bring down the rass. She would have only one thrust, probably, because after that she would be dead.

‘No,’ she promised herself. ‘I will not die today.’

Saying it strengthened her. She calmed herself. In her ears her heartbeat throbbed just a little quieter. It was, she realized, a majestic place, this House of Sercin, and like a tiny few before her she was going to face a god. The realization humbled her, and then the fear fled entirely. It was not so bad to die this way, in this place.

Lahkali walked on, slowly and in silence, picking her way carefully across the cavern. Her wide eyes scanned for any movement in the mist. Then, up ahead she saw the mists begin to part. A hot breeze spilled out from the gloom. She stopped herself, crouching low and ready, and waited. A shadow moved toward her, barely glimpsed. Lahkali strained to see. As the vapours ebbed, the green gems shined their light on the darkness ahead, revealing the rising figure of a hooded beast.

In the form of a serpent, Sercin still looked like a god. The creature made no sound as it slithered, its great head swaying hypnotically, its eyes filled with black, unblinking life. Its hood fanned out from the side of its head, swirling with colours that rifled along its scales. A creamy under-belly pulsed with breath. The rass stared at Lahkali, looking amused.

‘Sercin. .’

Sercin, the great god of Torlis, took his time contemplating the Eminence. Lahkali had seen rass before, many times, but they were so different from the thing that rose up now to face her. This rass — the Great Rass — gave her a look of intelligence and pleasure, as if it knew who she was and why she had come. The slits of its eyes fixed on her, unmoving, and Lahkali could not look away, even as the katath began to slacken in her grasp. On her chest, the Eye of God began to burn and flash, and the rass noticed this and grinned, its expression oddly curious. It was certainly the largest living thing Lahkali had ever seen, and yet she was not afraid of it. What she felt instead was awe.

‘I am the Red Eminence of Torlis,’ she declared. ‘I’ve come for your blood, Sercin, to feed the land.’

Her voice sounded small. Sercin replied by opening his mouth and letting out his forked tongue. The long appendage curled unnaturally through the air, as if greeting Lahkali. In her mind she heard its cool, reptilian voice.

You are a child, and I cannot be beaten by a child. Go now, and bring a father or a brother to challenge me.

‘I have no father and no brother to set against you, Great Rass. I say again — I am the Red Eminence.’

The serpent appeared disappointed. You are a girl, and a tiny one. I could swallow you whole, like a bird.

Lahkali nodded. ‘That is right, but I have come prepared for you.’

Sercin’s glowing eyes searched the amulet around her neck. What is that you wear?

‘This is the Eye of God,’ said Lahkali. ‘It is magic, from a place far away. There is a god inside it, a god to protect me.’

Now Lahkali felt the serpent’s enormous pleasure. So then the challenge is real from you, girl. Summon your protector. Let me see him.

‘I cannot. But he is real, Sercin. He will keep me safe and I will kill you, and then your blood will feed the land.’

As it has always been, replied the rass. The scaly face looked satisfied. I am ready to fight you.

Lahkali drew a breath and brought up her weapon again. The Great Rass acknowledged her signal and tucked back its colourful hood. Then, like a cracking whip, it snapped toward her.

Karoshin watched Lukien’s eyelids flutter as the whites of his eyes rolled back into his head. Lukien’s body, still on the rocks, began to convulse and his throat let out a terrible wail. As consciousness at last slipped away, Lukien’s face slackened. Thick red blood began to pool beneath him as the wound on his back opened, soaking though his wet garments. Karoshin, who along with Niharn had rolled Lukien onto his side, tore more of Lukien’s shirt away as he inspected the wound.

It had come over him like magic, just as Lukien had said it would. At first it had only been a scar, but slowly it had opened, oozing blood and throbbing red around the edges. It was a clean wound, made by a expertly sharpened sword, cutting deep between Lukien’s shoulder blades. Karoshin touched the wound lightly with his finger, then set his other hand atop Lukien’s head, gently stroking his long blond hair.

‘He dies,’ said Niharn. The fencing master looked angry. ‘This is stupid. Now they will both die.’

‘Or Lahkali will live,’ said Karoshin.

Niharn gave a grudging nod. ‘It is not impossible.’

Beside them, Lukien’s body started to shiver. He cried out again, lowly and with great effort, regaining a tiny hold on consciousness.

‘The demon in the amulet should let him go,’ Niharn growled. ‘Look at this cruelty!’

‘It is what he wanted,’ Karoshin reminded him.

‘It frustrates me.’ Niharn studied Lukien’s face with pity. ‘Look — it is like he is dreaming. What is he seeing, do you think?’

Karoshin could not say.

It was only the fangs that Lahkali saw, like a blurring heading toward her. The head of the rass exploded forward, its mouth open wide, its long white teeth dripping venom. A rush of air blew Lahkali backward as she spun to avoid the darting head, which reached her in an instant then rose up fast to corner her. The voice of Sercin had left Lahkali’s mind. She turned fast to keep the beast from her back. Her katath came up high for defense. The long body of the rass curled quickly around her, but she jumped, coming up with a roll on the other side. The cavern was giant, and Lahkali had room to move. So she ran.

The rass watched her, probed her, following her through the cavern without attacking. Lahkali reached a group of rocks and dived behind it. In an instant the rass was overhead, its tail to one side of her, its head coming around for another strike. Choosing the tail, Lahkali slashed to the left and freed herself, out in the open once again. The unscathed tail whipped quickly around to slither back behind the patient rass. The creature’s head drew back, sizing her up. Lahkali raised her weapon. The yellowish scales of the serpent’s underside caught her attention. There were the hearts, beating and ready.

Lahkali’s twin blades twitched as she waited. With plenty of room, she bounced from one foot to the other, ready to spring. The rass came down fast, fangs bared, its long tongue darting out like an arm. Lahkali yelled and moved right, then slashed her blades across the hood, catching it and cutting it. As she spun away she heard the snake’s painful hiss filling the cavern. Angrily it rose up, its black eyes glowing in disbelief. Aliz Nok’s amazing blades had sliced easily through the serpent’s flesh, making two deep rents that gushed bright blood.

You are fast, girl! complimented Sercin.

Hearing his voice made Lahkali’s head swim. She struggled against its lulling tone. Already she was breathing hard, and all she had done was nick the beast. She had missed its breast entirely.

‘Come and fight me!’ she cried.

The rass obliged, balling its tongue into a tight fist and firing it forward. The blow caught Lahkali’s chest, sending her sprawling. As she hit the ground the breath shot from her lungs. She rolled desperately to get away, scrambling through the water with her katath in one hand. Knowing she was vulnerable, she got to her feet and turned to see the Great Rass looking down at her. The strange tongue twisted in its mouth.

You are less than I hoped, said the rass. Put your weapon down and I will end this for you. One strike. Death will come quickly.

‘No, I can’t,’ said Lahkali desperately. ‘You have to fight me. I have to kill you!’

You cannot kill me.

‘I must!’

The serpent’s expression grew almost human, with a mix of anger and sorrow. It swayed confidently from side to side, watching Lahkali, sure in its ability to kill her. Lahkali stood her ground, prepared to run or strike or dance away — whatever was needed. Her knuckles were white around her katath. She realized with dread that the rass was blocking the way she had come.

But it didn’t matter. She had come this far, and there really was no turning back. Lahkali raised her katath, knowing that this time there would be no running. This time, she had to fight.

‘Amaraz!’ she cried. ‘Help me!’

The Eye of God flared, sending shards of red light through the chamber. The Great Rass hissed and thrashed its tongue, tasting the venom that dripped from its own fangs. Beneath the shadow of its spreading hood, young Lahkali summoned her courage.

This time the serpent came like thunder, screeching a hiss and tearing forward. Lahkali waited the split-second before the fangs were near, then stepped aside to work her blades. Expecting her to flee, the rass kept on, barreling into her katath. The hooked blades carved through its face and raked along its hood. Lahkali crossed to the side, lowered to a crouch, and watched the stunned creature lift its head. Blood gushed from the wound across its mouth. Its left eye popped with black ooze. Lahkali didn’t wait. She sprang, unloading her katath with a scream and bounding for the serpent’s breast. The weapon’s blades found the beast’s belly, going through its tough skin as easily as air. Lahkali held on, feeling the rass rise up, pulling her from her feet as an angry wail erupted from its throat. It’s whole body rattled, shaking Lahkali loose. She fell, katath in hand, and looked up into the bruised eye of the Great Rass. From the wound in its gut came the most foul-smelling muck, a greenish-black jelly that rolled down its belly. Lahkali cursed, knowing she had not hit the beast’s hearts.

There were no more words from the beast, no more of Sercin’s playful voice in her head. There was only wrath. The long body of the snake snapped around Lahkali, quicker than a blink, wrapping around her and squeezing her instantly. She screamed, finding herself lifted again, locked in the powerful coils. Lahkali fought to hold on to her katath. Already blood filled her fingers as the pressure within her rose. Her head pounded as higher and higher the creature took her, bringing her face to face and licking its sabre-like fangs.

‘Amaraz, please!’ cried Lahkali. ‘I can’t hold on!’

The hot fire of the amulet burst with dazzling light. A new vigour flooded Lahkali’s muscles. Flexing, she worked the fingers around her katath and straightened the weapon, poising it to strike. The hearts were high, she knew, just feet beneath the head. A little closer and -

Blackness. Lahkali screamed. Burning, spitting venom filled her face. Her eyes caught fire, filling with tears then the most unbearable pain. Blindness came quickly. Lahkali threw her head back, crying out for help. The skin around her eyes began to bubble.

Katath still in hand, she writhed blindly in the serpent’s coils.

Lukien floated. Without a body, he swam effortlessly through a dark, warm sea, searching the endless horizon. Beneath him, somewhere in the world he had left, Karoshin and Niharn stood over him, watching with worry as the shell that had held him breathed its last, shallow breaths. But Lukien knew that he was dead, and the realization gave him peace. He had died once before, and now no longer feared it. To him, death was bliss.

Because he had no feet, he could not walk like a normal man, but could will his mind to take him anywhere, and so he moved through the darkness, searching for Cassandra. She would come to him, he was sure. Death had been the only way for them to be together, and now death had finally claimed him. He was a spirit now, like an Akari, living forever in a place without strife or the pain of physical bodies. Now he had two eyes again. Now he would be whole.

He imagined the orchard where they had made love, and where Cassandra had died. In her death place she had come to him when he himself lay dying. As he imagined it, the orchard bloomed around him, real and perfect in every detail. The sun was high and warm, filling the trees with its orange fingers. Apples fell gently to the mossy ground. In the distance sat Lionkeep, the way it had been on that wonderful day, unpolluted and filled with children, the flag of Liiria snapping overhead. But here in the orchard the noise of the castle was a world away. In the orchard, peace reigned.

Lukien walked the lanes between the apple trees, smiling at the creation his imagination had wrought. He had only to wait, he knew, and Cassandra would find him. Pulling a perfect apple from the nearest tree, he took a bite of the fruit and smiled at its freshness. It was fine to be dead.

Lowering himself against the tree trunk, Lukien sat and patiently ate his apple.

Lahkali screamed against the burning pain, thrashing in the rass’ iron grip as the venom raked her eyes. Angry tears flooded down her face. She could feel the hot breath of the rass as it watched her, pulling her closer. She had somehow managed to hold tightly to the katath, but working the weapon was impossible now. Bound by the snake and unable to see, she could barely keep the katath in her failing hand. On her breast she could still feel the Eye of God, growing hotter and hotter, burning her skin as much as the venom. Her wet garments seemed to catch fire. The rass held her confidently in its tail, toying with her, but no longer squeezed the life from her. Lahkali, refusing to face the end, concentrated on the steady power of the amulet.

The heat grew around her. Even through her acid-laced eyes, she could see its dazzling light. A great burning filled the cavern. The rass hissed against it, shaking her in its grasp. Lahkali cursed the beast, letting the power of the amulet fill her. The pain of her wounds ebbed as hot blood pumped through her body. She could fill Sercin’s disbelief. The glow was everywhere now, red like the sun, beating back the green light of the cavern’s gems. As fire filled the chamber the water below began to hiss and bubble. Sercin tossed her back and forth.

‘Amaraz!’ called Lahkali. ‘Bring your fire!’

She was strong again, strong enough to keep her breath and fight. Sercin swayed, falling back as the magic fires shook the cavern. As she struggled she felt his tail waver, then loosen. Gradually she brought up her katath, inch by inch, hoping blindly for one clear shot.

‘More!’ she cried.

Amaraz obliged, and the shock of his power stunned her. Fire leapt from her hair and dangling feet, burning but not harming her. The scaly hide of the serpent’s tail scorched as it tried to hold her. A burst of flame and smoke erupted off Lahkali’s body, sizzling the reptilian hide. Sercin jerked back, at last opening his coils, dropping Lahkali. She tumbled, blind and on fire, crashing against the flooded earth. Her hand opened and the katath skidded away. Nearby she could hear the serpent’s anguished keen.

Water filled Lahkali’s mouth. She raised her head out of the muck, then desperately began cupping the water with her hands, washing out her stinging eyes. The world was a blur, a cauldron of mist and fire. The flames that had burned away Sercin’s grip had gone out now. Her body was hers again.

Find your weapon, said a voice in her head.

This time the voice was not the serpent’s. Lahkali knew it to be Amaraz.

‘Where?’ she asked. ‘I can’t see!’

Just ahead of you. Find it quickly. I cannot make the fire forever.

Lahkali scrambled, searching for her weapon. Her fingers moved through the water, feeling the rocks and mud for the katath. Through her reddened eyes she could just make out the rass, hissing and thrashing as fire fell upon it. On hands and knees Lahkali hurried forward, spreading her arms wide so not to miss the weapon.

‘Where is it?’ she cried.

Straight on. Move, child.

‘I am!’ Lahkali shouted, then found it. With a victorious yelp she raised the weapon and got to her feet. ‘I have it!’ she said. ‘What now?’

Now kill the beast.

‘Amaraz, I can’t see. How can I?’

I will guide you. Go to it now.

‘Amaraz. .’

Go, now!

Lahkali gripped her katath, prepared herself, then charged forward. Ahead of her she could barely see the flailing body of the rass, raging as it struggled against the fires. Heat and smoke choked Lahkali. The wet ground grabbed her boots. But she continued, faltering all the way, running headlong toward the serpent.

And then, her body lightened. Lahkali tried to pause, yet kept on going. Her hands flew forward, her legs filled with vigour, and suddenly she was launching herself, not knowing how, leaping through the air toward the rass. Sercin’s wounded face turned to her. Seeing her attack he once more unfurled his tongue. The appendage stretched out, unspooling from the snake’s mouth, reaching for the girl. Lahkali knew what to do. With Amaraz part of her, she brought her katath through a slashing cross, easily slicing through the pink muscle. The tongue fell away, the stump recoiling with a cry. Katath was falling now. Through the haze she felt the serpent beneath her, trying to escape. There was a moment left.

‘The hearts!’ she cried. ‘Find the hearts!’

Amaraz became her eyes, guiding her. The giant body of the snake moved to evade, but Lahkali was already on it, fighting her way quickly towards the hood. Beneath the hood were the hearts, she knew, and the twin blades of her katath sniffed for them, gleaming hungrily. Blood spattered across Lahkali’s face as Sercin spat and tossed, reeling back against the cavern wall. His wounded eye, his severed tongue, the two deep rents along his good, none of these had killed him. But the blood was everywhere, gushing from the creature, mingling with the mud and water.

Then, as Lahkali climbed his flexing body, Sercin stopped. The wide hood folded back and the chest swelled with air. His good eye watched her blackly, urging her forward. Lahkali squinted through the pain, barely glimpsing the beast. What little she saw spoke of surrender.

You have won, child. The voice was Sercin’s again.

He could have struck her, but did not. He could have quickly coiled away, but he stayed. Stretching out his hood again, the Great Rass lowered and showed its breast to the girl.

Slowly, he urged. No more fighting.

Lahkali paused. The glamour of Amaraz began to fade. As it did the enormous pain of the serpent’s venom took hold again.

‘I am the Red Eminence!’ she cried.

The Great Rass hovered closer. Weakened, bloody, it closed its ruined mouth. You are the Red Eminence. Take my hearts. Drink my blood.

Amaraz was gone. Searching her mind for him, Lahkali found no hint of the Akari. But still he sustained her, giving her strength. Lahkali put out her hand, wishing for all the world that she could see the face of the defeated god. When she touched him, Sercin did not pull away. His cool scales coloured at the graze of her fingertips. There was blood on her hands. Lahkali drew her finger through it then put her finger to her lips. At once her mouth filled with bitter heat, a fire that spread quickly from her mouth to all the tendrils of her body. She blinked, and her eyes began to clear. The sizzling pain of the serpent’s venom eased from her skin. Slowly her sight returned, blurry but true. The face of the Great Rass waited in front of her.

Lahkali could not speak. There were no words for what she was about to do. Sercin’s black eye gleamed with understanding.

It is our secret, he told her, the secret of your line. I give myself to your people, Eminence.

And then she understood. She had not really beaten him. He had surrendered. The katath felt unreal in her grip.

‘I have to do this,’ she said shakily. ‘I am sorry.’

Both hearts, said the serpent.

Facing death, he looked serene.

In his dream, Lukien had fallen asleep against the tree. Just as if no time had passed, the sun was in the same spot in the sky when he awakened. He looked around, sure he’d heard his name called. He searched the orchard for Cassandra. Getting to his feet, he peered down the lanes of perfectly trimmed apple trees. Lionkeep was just as before, distant and contented. The rows and rows of trees stood at rapt attention. But Cassandra was gone, or had never been there, leaving Lukien to puzzle.

And then he heard the voice again, like the voice of an unseen angel, very far away and calling to him. And he knew.

‘Oh,no. .’

It seemed impossible. He was dead. He had to be dead.

‘No!’ he cried, staring up into the sky. ‘I won’t go back!’

The darkness came again, sweeping him away.

Lukien opened his eyes. When he saw Lahkali’s face, he sobbed. He was glad for her, glad she was alive, but the pain of his wounds had gone and that meant only one thing.

‘I’m back.’

‘Yes,’ said Karoshin brightly. ‘You are alive, Lukien!’

Lukien realized he was laying on the ground. Glancing at his chest he saw the Eye of God. He put a hand to his mouth to stifle his sobs.

‘Don’t be afraid, Lukien, you’re all right,’ said Lahkali gently. ‘I have killed the rass. Look, Lukien, look at the water. .’

Around them the melting snow was the colour of blood, rushing down from the mountain to feed the valley far below.