Silluka bent over her brother, checking his breath, his forehead. He was hot, but breathing. She’d seen him fight before, in the bodycasting tournaments and then for his life with the invading turtleman. He’d never collapsed like this? What had happened?
He’d seemed almost out of control, barely hearing what she said to him. Lugopo and the other three Allwiya came up to them quietly, tiptoeing on many tentacles.
“The mighty warrior is fallen?” Lugopo’s circlet chirped.
“He’s alive, but unconscious. Is there anything you can do? We need to get away from here.” Sounds of fighting still drifted down from above, but it was fainter than it had been. Were the Huaca winning, or the Allwiya? Surely it must be her side, with the stone warriors helping? And what about Elder Quilqi? She’d single-handedly killed a turtleman when even Ichu couldn’t. If she had been down here, she could have saved them. She could have prevented the deaths of many villagers, and Cosquella’s family.
Lugopo traded signs with their compatriots. Muola and the other Allwiya took off, climbing the rounded wall with relative ease.
“They will bring help, if our god-burdened cousins haven’t decimated everyone.”
Silluka waited for them to tap their circlet, but they didn’t.
“Then we do what we can down here to make him comfortable, and anyone else still alive.” Sand trickling down through the hole with a steady hiss, but it was slowing. The pile of sand was building up around them. The broken sled was almost completely covered, and even the insect-like vehicle, now it was still, had sand partway up the main body. She’d need to stay near Ichu and keep him on top of the sand.
She checked over his body to make sure nothing was broken, with Lugopo’s help. Ichu’s eyes were bloodshot, when she pulled a lid back. No, not bloodshot exactly. It was as if he actually had blood behind the whites of his eyes, but she didn’t think he did.
“What is this? Do you know?”
“A strange weakness.” Lugopo rubbed beneath their eyes with a tentacle. It seemed to be the Allwiya’s sign they were thinking. “But then, you Huaca are strange. Perhaps he’s broken the hard things in his eyes?”
“We don’t have bones in our eyes.” Silluka stared at him. “What made you think that?”
Lugopo raised four tentacles in a complex shrug. “You have them everywhere else!”
Silluka shook the comment away and patted down his linen shirt and pants, trying to find some explanation for his condition. Finally, tucked into one of the pockets sewn to his pants, she found an empty vial, cork loosened and replaced. There was a single drop of a viscous purple substance left in it.
“The Eztli Mecatl’s vial!” Lugopo’s circlet made the exclamation almost a shriek. “Ooooh no. No no!” They clutched at their body with their tentacles. “Elder Quilqi will turn me into dried squid.” They snatched the vial away, turning it over and over in their tentacles.
“What vial—” but then Silluka remembered. Back in the village, before they left. Elder Quilqi examining the last vial left on the turtleman attacker with Lugopo, trying to decide what to do with it. Ichu’s eyes drawn to it.
“It disappeared two days ago. I thought it had rolled into the sand when Crawling Dark of Squirming whispered to me of the construct.”
“But Elder Quilqi said it was how the turtlemen connected to their god. Would that even work for one of the Huaca?” But she remembered Ichu’s eyes, almost glowing when he dropped into the pit. Now they were blood-colored with no blood. What had he done?
“Gods can grant power to all. But how it is done, and staying sane in taking that power is another thing.” Lugopo rubbed two tentacles together nervously in the dim, sandy light that filtered into the cavern. “You hard-bodied squishy things connect with your Anties, Uncles, and Entles by the chayus. The Eztli Mecatl seem to drink this substance. We are made to channel the swirling thoughts of our dark gods.” Lugopo passed tentacles down their body. “Would Manylegs of Reaching answer your call if you entered the fugue? Maybe. Would you survive their secrets? Unknown.”
Silluka sat down next to her brother, her hand resting on his brow. The torn and twisted suit Lugopo made her dangled around her, a hindrance more than a help now, but she dared not take it off, in hopes Lugopo could fix it again. She wanted that feeling again, of being invincible in her perfection.
Ichu’s last words came back. He said he’d do anything to protect her.
“Was it worth it, Ichu?” she whispered.
* * *
It was some time before a rope was fed down through the hole in the top of the cavern. Silluka moved Ichu’s body three times while waiting to keep the sand from covering him over. The rest of her and Lugopo’s time was occupied with digging though the sand to reach the buried sled and the insect vehicle. They never reached the sled, with the falling sand, but they also heard nothing. No breathing, no cries for help, not even any sand shifted beneath them. The Allwiya had murdered the rest of the Huaca who had fallen in the pit, and the Huaca in turn had killed almost all the crazed desert-dwellers. Now both conveyances were completely covered, save for the pointed ends of two legs which poked out of the pile of sand. She tried not to think of the dead Huaca down there. Of the healing center. Cosquella’s father and cousin. What could Silluka tell her? That she chose not to save them? Did she make the right choice?
Akamu was the first one down on the rope, and watching him climb down instead of blasting through the rock with a saved chayu told her a lot about what happened in the fight.
“How is he?” Akamu asked as soon as he touched down. Others, stone warriors and Huaca, followed him down. Some started digging out the sled and insect vehicle, making more progress in minutes than Silluka had made in the whole time she had waited. Silluka raised her hand to tell them not to bother, then let it fall into her lap. Maybe they would find something she hadn’t.
“The warrior took into himself another god!” Lugopo blurted through their circlet, and Akamu frowned at both of them. Someone else brought a torch closer and it highlighted the hard planes of his face.
“We think he drank one of the vials the turtlemen used,” Silluka translated.
Akamu’s normally bronzed face paled in the torchlight. “This is very bad. We must take him up to the healing—” her broke off, looking toward where others dug through the pile of sand.
“Can you help him?” Silluka asked. She couldn’t bring herself to talk about the healing center. Had Elder Sinchi been in there with them? Silluka hadn’t seen her come out.
“We’ll do what we can.” Akamu squatted and easily picked up her brother, though he likely weighed as much as the stone warrior. “Help me tie him to the rope. We’ll be able to examine him more closely in the light.”
They met Elder Quilqi standing at the very rim of the pit of sand, hands on her hips, looking very much like an angry grandmother. Little rivers of sand trailed down into the hole, mainly when Huaca entered or left by rope. Silluka guessed it would be filled in as soon as the wind shifted. Maybe within a few days. How many other pits and caverns were under this expanse of sand?
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Well? Desert Dunes! Is anyone going to tell me what happened? Not like an old lady like me can go jumping into every pit in the desert.”
“Ichu has communed with the god of the Eztli Mecatl,” Akamu said, raising the vial between them. Lugopo placed tentacles over their large eyes, as if not seeing the evidence made it disappear.
Silluka thought Elder Quilqi’s lips might completely disappear into her mouth. Her jaw tightened, muscles standing out in her cheeks.
“Uncles, Aunts, and Entles curse that man! Flaming skies and thundering depths! Does he have a death wish?” She looked around as if for someone to throttle, then pointed to the flat open area on the third sled where they’d practiced a few days before. “There. Take him there. Someone find stores of the primitive unguents these villagers have. Anything will help.”
She stared around at the Huaca milling around her, then back to Silluka. “You. What are you wearing?”
She glanced down at herself, realizing again that the remains of the suit was hanging in tatters around her. It looked like she’d fallen into a pile of wood scraps.
“A great invention! The Whirling Abyss has shown a way to improve the chayus. It is perfection, made solid.” Lugopo stood on three tentacles on her shoulder, the rest raised to the sky.
“Hmpf. It will help I suppose. You won’t need that crutch soon, girl, not with your connection to the core. Now, did you see the Elder Sinchi practicing Tree Sap Flows? Where is that woman?”
Silluka glanced down to the hole, and Elder Quilqi followed her gaze.
“Well. That is unfortunate. I’ve seen what these desert Allwiya do.” She looked back to Silluka. “Can you do the chayu in her place?”
Silluka strained her thoughts. She had seen some of the moves, but it wasn’t a popular chayu, as it had limited uses.
“I…think I could follow along with it if you show me,” she hazarded. “Will it help Ichu?”
“It will reduce the damage,” the elder allowed. “And you, stone warrior? Can you spare anyone to perform the Life Tree with us? Does anyone have some saved?”
That chayu Silluka had not heard of. Something so general couldn’t be useful, could it? Just Life Tree? What function did it have?
“We’ve used everything we have against the Allwiya, ancient one. We would have to recreate our stores, and a full rendition of Life Tree can take a full day.” Akamu bowed over the vial in apology.
“Burning earth! Just the girl then. Back, back. Make some space. And move him to a flat surface!” Elder Quilqi pointed at the open area of the sled, and two other Stone Warriors quickly laid Ichu out, hands open to his sides.
Elder Quilqi meanwhile stared around as if she would pounce on anyone nearby like a hungry jakua. Huaca quickly made themselves scarce, and even the stone warriors, except for Akamu, faded away.
“Hmpf. Better.” She turned her gaze to Silluka, who almost fell back. The…intent…in those eyes was like a knife to her mind. She felt Lugopo tremble against her.
So that was what the elder meant.
Then Elder Quilqi blinked, and the pressure in her skull faded.
“Sorry girl, leaned a bit too hard on that.” She clasped her hands together, rubbing them, as if deciding what to say. Was the elder actually nervous?
“I’ll need your help with this. There needs to be two of us, one on each side. It won’t be easy. In fact, it will be quite dangerous, but you’ve progressed farther in these few weeks than I ever expected. You have a strong spirit, and it will be tested in the next few minutes, or hours. Are you ready?”
Silluka didn’t need the clarifier. Ichu would not survive without her help. She swallowed.
“I’m ready.”
The elder nodded once. “Good. Now, do you remember what it felt like when you performed Flying Quirra?
Silluka’s stomach dropped. After that episode, she had been the one out for three days. Cosquella had been the first face she saw when she woke up. And that spiked the realization through her brain that she would have to tell Cosquella that her father and cousin were dead. Because Silluka hadn’t been able to protect them. She looked around, hoping and dreading to see the big woman nearby, but sled was nearly deserted except for them. Everyone was busy after the fight, fixing sleds, tending to people, and counting injuries.
“Focus, girl.” Silluka snapped back to the elder’s face. “You must have absolute focus to do this thing. Any less and you’ll end up worse than him.” Elder Quilqi flipped a hand toward Ichu’s limp body.
“You’re talking about intent,” she said.
“Of course I am. It’s the first real step on your journey.” The elder frowned. “Though that…contraption will aid minorly.”
“Minorly? My brilliant concept! Crawling Dark of Squirming and Manylegs of Reaching put their pseudopods into my mind for this.” Lugopo shook two tentacles at the elder.
“And it will certainly give the girl a boost. Now, off her shoulder and fix what you can in the next few moments, or do I use you for fish food when we reach Chimor?”
Lugopo scuttled over Silluka’s shoulder and down her back, stopping to fix the worst few connections in the suit while their circlet muttered dark prevarications about the elder.
“It is as ready as it may be with no tools to aid my handiwork,” they gestured after a minute, the circlet translating their words.
“Now girl. Silluka.” The elder bent over, reducing her height to Silluka’s. “Follow me through the motions of Tree Sap Flows once. Let that fancy collection of splinters and nails guide you if you wish, but set it in your brain. Then we’re going to do it again, but that time, we are both going to connect our intent to the core, as you did with Flying Quirra. Do you think you can do that?”
Silluka stared back. This was not the time to look away. Just as when she’d been forced in front of the elders the first time, she was committed, whether she liked it or not. “I can.”
“Good. Then follow me. Mirror my actions.”
The moves of Tree Sap Flows were willowy, from Dexterity stance to start, though it changed to Speed stance halfway through while the arms moved through a complex dance in the air, as if directing the branching limbs of a tree where to grow.
Arms. Both of them. The right forearm and hand of the suit had been crushed by the insect vehicle. There was nothing left, and though the rest of the suit helped perfected her movement, that arm pulled and caught as she moved her stump. She wiggled it back and forth, loosening the joints up. It at least wouldn’t hinder her.
Her stump mattered when she did Flying Quirra, had it?
They finished the chayu facing each other, on either side of Ichu, the elder’s right foot lifted, and Silluka’s left, as she did the mirror image of the elder’s chayu. Both the elder’s hands were raised, palm up, above her head. Silluka’s stump only went slightly higher than the crown of her head.
“Well, that may have helped him slightly, or done nothing against the power of a god flowing through his veins,” Elder Quilqi said. “This time, we do the chayu with intent. Perform it first with your mind, applying each move. Your body will follow. Do not let your focus waver. We must be in tandem for this to work. Are you ready?”
Silluka nodded timidly. “Yes elder.”
The elder’s eyes blazed and Silluka felt the spike in her mind again. “Blood and mountains! I don’t want maybes, child. Are you ready, or not?”
Silluka lifted her chin. “I’m ready, Elder Quilqi.”
“That’s better. Now, think it through in your mind first. We’ll start in ten heartbeats.”
Silluka closed her eyes and settled her mind, just as she’d done with Flying Quirra. She moved to the Mental stance, left leg to her right calf, creating a circle of energy. This time the Mental stance was more complex. Flying Quirra was meant to be done in the Mental stance. Tree Sap Flows was not.
She visualized how her limbs would move, where her right hand would be if it existed. She would need her physical and mental body for this. The ampuka began to rise in her like liquid. Like sap.
“Begin.” The word was a command, too soon, but she would never be more ready.
Silluka flowed into the movements, her mind leading her body. A heat rose, as if the sun were beneath her feet instead of above her head.
That heat was outshone by Elder Quilqi, who felt like the sun itself across Ichu’s body. For a moment, Silluka wasn’t certain if she was connecting to the core, or Elder Quilqi herself.
Then a mental line of force guided her connection back to the core, as if it was a hand redirecting a stream of water. Had that been the elder?
But there was no time to think. Silluka tightened her control on the connection. By performing the morning ritual with Akamu, she knew where that energy should go, and she directed it into her sunqu, from the planet’s core to hers. Only from there would it fuel the mental side of the chayu, lending it strength far beyond what mere flesh and blood could do. When she had performed Flying Quirra she hadn’t directed the energy, but let it rage through her, and it had almost killed her.
She lost herself in the chayu, matching Elder Quilqi move for move, mirrored on the other side of Ichu’s body. It was as if their mental selves danced a half-move ahead, showing them where to go.
A haze grew around Ichu—an ugly, purple, bruised haze. It came from his fingers, his toes, and his eyes, collecting into a pool above his body.
As they came to the end of the chayu, Silluka raised both of her hands above her head, one flesh, one mental. She couldn’t see it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.
Elder Quilqi convulsed, flinging her arms away, and the pool of purple spun away from Ichu to splash against the side of the sled. It dissipated into mist, then to nothing, as if evaporated by the sun.
Silluka’s knees buckled and she dropped to the floor. She was enervated by the chayu, but not like at the end of Flying Quirra. Like lifting a bucket of lead with her chin, she lifted her head to look at the elder.
Elder Quilqi smiled down at her.
“Good job, girl. I think he’ll live. And you, you’ve just progressed farther than anyone in your village for five hundred years.”