The Burning Ground

2. Linojin

Shadith lay on a grassy flat high in the mountains above Linojin, a tarp pulled over her as camouflage against Pt-Mac-an cameras. She had her binocs strapped on and was turning her head slowly to scan the city, cursing her stupidity. Even listening to the Cobben grouse about their problems hadn’t prepared her for this.

Linojin was big. There was that pile at the center. The Grand Yeson which translated roughly as cathedral, with its surrounding maze of small courts and arcaded walks, its spires like twisted horns and its extraordinary roof. Looked as if the tiles or whatever were squares of grass sod, the grass a brilliant emerald, rippling almost seductively in the brisk wind off the ocean. The steel lace of a broadcast tower in one of the back courts rose twice the height of the highest spire.

Then there were the Religious Houses. Warrens filled with mals, ferns, and anyas, the members of each group dressed in identical garments which made their resemblance to ant swarms all the greater. And the common streets teemed with people, Pilgrims, tradespeople, workers, refugees. All looking alike, from this distance anyway. Same species. Pixa and Impix, different cultures, same shape. Stupid, stupid, not thinking what it meant when Yseyl went to ground in a Holy City where everyone was closely monitored by locals as well as the Ptaks through their spy satellites-where any kind of alien would stand out as if she were painted red.

Disappearing in a polymorphic stew like Lala Gemali was simple, but this?

The anyas were tiny, hardly more than a meter tall, their heads about at the shoulders of the ferns, heart-high to the mals. Even in one of those white robes there was no way she could pass herself off as a Brother. She was at least a head taller than the biggest of the mals.

“Can’t go down there. Can’t ask questions. Shadow-girl, you didn’t think this through very well. Shays! There must be a hundred thousand of them. Maybe more. How am I going to do put my finger on one particular Pixa?”

She turned the binocs on the Pilgrim Road, sighed as she saw the thin but continuous line of newcomers. More people to add to the mix. “Yseyl, ah my Yseyl, if I had your gift…” She smiled at the thought of putting on a face and shape to fool that lot, then shook her head. Wishes only wasted air and energy. “Digby’s right. If I can hook you for him, he can put that talent of yours to good use.”

She shoved the binocs up off her eyes and examined the map unfolded before her, its edges pinned-down with bits of stone. “So. I ask myself, why did you come here? The answer’s obvious, isn’t it. Those three the Cobben are targeting are the only ones who can use the disruptor to get more than a few people past the Fence. People will follow them. Believe them. Trust them. Not you, little thief. Hmm. Nothing interesting on the radio. No sudden interest in gathering people together. No excitement down there. You haven’t figured it out yet, have you? No one listening to you. No one believing you. Do you even believe you? Fairy gold, that disruptor. Pretty thought, but gone with the sunrise.

‘And ‘where are you? Not with the religious. And not with the Pilgrims. I don’t think you could stand that piety, little assassin. Not from what Cerex said. Among the hohekil. Most likely. That means the southwest quarter. All right, let’s take a look and see what’s there. Maybe I’ll get lucky again. After all, it did happen once.”

Shifting from map to city, city to map, she spent the rest of the afternoon identifying buildings and streets, locating the market, checking out gates, associating the data written on the map in minuscule glyphs of interlingue with the objects named. Always a chance that Yseyl would go walking down one of those streets the moment Shadith swept the binocs along it. Lightning could strike twice if the Lady decided to smile on her.

By nightfall the only thing she’d gotten from that continual scanning were eyes that burned as if someone had taken steel wool to them. She folded the map, rolled up the tarp, got the miniskip from under the bushes where she’d stowed it and flew cautiously back to the hollow where she’d made her camp. Still two clear days before the Cobben struck. She fixed a meal, then settled back to brood over what she’d seen and plot strategies for thwarting the assassinations.

She spent the second day scanning faces, because she couldn’t think of anything else to do, but saw nothing of Yseyl.

Toward the end of the day a powerful wind began blowing inland, driving black clouds before it. She could smell the sea and hear a faint humming that she couldn’t pin down until she looked at the broadcast tower and saw how it was quivering despite the cable stays that helped hold it upright. Those cables. She shouldn’t have been able to hear them hum this far away; it must be some kind of atmospheric freak.

Was Yseyl was still in Linojin? It was three weeks since she’d seen the little ghost walking along the Pilgrim Road, and who knew how long ago that scene was flaked?

“This is not working. I could sit here till this body rots and still not pick her out of that mess. Hm. If this was one of Autumn Rose’s games, she’d finesse. Force a move.

The broadcast tower.

She stared at it.

A song. Maybe a song cycle. Cover all bets. Shop it round the coastal cities, get them to play it., send the call out as far as it’ll go. Wear one of those Brother robes with the cowls. Antiwar songs. One of them talking to Yseyl. She must be getting frustrated about now, trying to find a way to use the disruptor. Hm. She was stalking and killing arms dealers before she went off with Cerex. Bloody little creature, more than a bit crazy, killing to stop killing.

She must have cached the disruptor before she came into Linojin. She certainly didn’t have it with her in that scene where she was walking barefoot on the Pilgrim Road. Well, it’s what I’d do. And it means I have to get my hands on her if I want that thing back. Hm. She can be talked into things. Cerex did it, I have to figure out how I… hm… maybe… nice if I can combine the two things… warn the Cobben’s targets and set my trap…

She gathered herself and went back to her camouflaged camp as the first raindrops began pounding down.