Mute, incredulous assent. I
remembered my own first field promotion. “I hope you enjoyed sitting down to
eat,” I said. “It might be the last time you ever do. Get everyone ready. We’re
breaking camp. Now. Go. ”
They
left without ado. I stepped outside my tent and started pulling at a rope. Ash
insisted on helping me, which I saw as a serious waste of talent. Without
anyone ever saying so, I’d gotten the idea that before I came, he was what
passed for authority in old beat-down Ariel. Then I realized that the men were
stealing glances to watch an officer help an officer. I shut up. I expect obedience,
but there are no peons in my command. Later, I went and helped him.
It’s
a lot of rowing to get to Redmarak. Oh, the river narrows to that which lets
two decent barges pass. But the current runs slower than it ought to, perhaps
mechanically induced. Machines, always machines on this damned world. You know
they even determined vocation that way? Took you into the Temple with a bunch
of relics to see what jumped. Those that didn’t ended up sweeping the streets
or such. The things a world will think of.
I
brooded through the night. Ash wouldn’t let me row. We passed through what the
locals called the Eye of the Profusion, an interminable canyon barely wider
than the river. Cliffs rose forever on either side. Mountains piled on after
that. The first Faith had apparently gained some great victory here. The men
made religious gestures, all with their thumbs tucked tightly against their
palms. I wondered at the significance of that.
Dawn
found us on the edge of the swamps. We made for a large and treeless island. If
I guessed right, this was the site of one of the battles that sent shrieks
through the Auger soul. The saplings tickling my ears with their leaves
suggested the right age. I told the men about a warrior fallen in white armor. Then
I remembered the cache I’d found in the city square.
“Breathe
on him,” I said. I ordered everyone back to their boats. Let the search begin.
“Suriel,” I said, “now would be the time.”
And
I’ll be damned if he didn’t show up.
This
is going to take some explanation. Humans are not alone in the universe. We
always thought we were. The Profusion assumed we were. Hell, I certainly
thought we were – until a golden being nine feet tall unfurled its wings inside
my living room. Ship says it doesn’t matter. That I should evaluate my
conversations with Suriel as though he could exist, or not. But that’s just
Ship’s fancy way of saying he doesn’t quite believe me. And I’ll admit I’ve
always encountered Suriel in psychologically suspect circumstance.
But
the Niskivim feel more real to me than I do. I’ve never touched one, dared not
approach. Somehow I’ve always expected that meant certain incidental death. Yet
Suriel has guided me in ways I never expected. I don’t know where they came
from. I don’t know why they’re here. But I saw thirty of them break the siege
around Cibola and guide me precisely to the places necessary to disable an
army. I felt the coldness of Suriel lounging in my favorite recliner. And it was
Suriel who guided me to that cache in the center of Ariel, where the two
entombed men hid.
They’re
not really golden, of course. Just gold-colored, with veins of green and blue.
You can see those because Niskivim are semi-transparent. I suspect they do not
exist entirely on this plane. Their bodies are just like supremely muscled
versions of ours in that they can walk and talk upright. But they also have
wings, membrane-thin wings that they wrap around themselves like cloaks. And
they have an extra set of arms that they carry crossed behind their backs. But
those arms don’t end in hands, only gradually transition into what look and
function like swords. When they fight, they move with all the rigidity and
awkwardness of wind over water. I have seen them slice through Profusionist
armor with a flick. I have never seen Suriel waste a motion, or stand in any
way but gracefully.
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