Chapter XXIX – Sanctum of the Black City
Among the roar of explosions that rippled out across Karbaliq, punctuated by a cacophony of small arms fire, Sayan burst from her hiding place, spear in hand. The Black City revealed an infernal vista of swirling sand, illuminated by the myriad of fires that had burst into life. Visibility was limited, but among it all Sayan could hear was the screams and moans of the dead and the dying, those caught in the series of blasts the defenders had rigged across the ruins. The smell of smoke and burning things – of flesh and metal – was carried by the driving winds.
Sayan could see little, but she knew the direction they would be coming from. She moved swiftly, unfazed by the wind or the chaos.
There was little warning when she came across a young soldier, the two opponents catching sight of each other when only metres apart. Almost all of his body was covered, but she could still see his eyes. She could see the shock they expressed when she materialised out of the storm in front of him; she could see the shock intensify as her spear found its way into his neck, just above the collar bone, the tip sprouting like a new shoot from the back of his neck. He coughed, gargled, and sagged. With an effort she tugged her weapon free and his corpse fell twitching in its death throws to dampened sands.
New explosions erupted somewhere nearby, their light and noise suffocated by the storm.
She glanced around. Arslan was just behind her, keeping close as he had been ordered.
“Send the signal: no more detonations! We don’t want to blow up our own!”
She could barely hear her own voice over the noise of the storm and the battle, but Arslan somehow understood, judging by his nod.
Two warriors appeared at her side. One she recognised as Ilgün, the other was of another tribe. Both were armed with assault rifles. Ilgün raised her weapon and fired off several bursts into the maelstrom.
“Stop!” yelled Sayan. “You’ll hit our own. Fire only when you have an identifiable target.”
Ilgün lowered her weapon, circumspect. Sayan could see she was shaking.
“On me!” yelled Sayan, pointing forward with her spear. “Advance.”
More warriors had gathered to her and they pushed forward. Occasionally a shot or a burst of automatic fire would ring out, but it seemed there was little left of the enemy here – the explosions had either slain them, or caused them to retreat.
But Sayan knew there were plenty more. They’d triggered the blasts early, and thus missed the bulk of the enemy force.
She reached a point covered in the burning wreckage of one of the Mechanised Assault Vehicles. She didn’t have to go much farther to find an infantryman who was presumably caught up in the same explosion that took out the MAV. What was left of the sand suit he had been wearing had been fused by the heat of the blast to what was left of him, blackened and hairless. The charred remains of two of his limbs were nearby, though no longer connected.
Sayan stepped over the wreckage of man and machine alike. Behind her, she heard a groan, then a single gunshot.
He was still alive?
Not anymore.
The sound of heavy machinery up ahead was soon joined by lights dimly shining through the clouds of sand.
“Halt!” she shouted, and the small group obediently halted and dropped low.
These enemies were coming closer, but their advance was slow, cautious.
One MAV.
Unknown numbers of infantry.
She surveyed the force with her. Twelve warriors, herself included.
With the element of surprise, and if they could take down the MAV quickly, perhaps they stood a chance.
“You two,” she said, indicating two of her fighters, “Try and get around the edge of this group. Fire into the group and make them think it is a flanking attack in force. I will go for the MAV.”
The two men gave the barest of acknowledgement, but moved swiftly to fulfill her orders.
She turned to Arslan.
“I’m going to need more power,” she said.
He placed his hand against the shaft of her spear and closed his eyes. Moments later dim light wreathed his form then spread up and down the length of the spear. He opened his eyes.
“I’ve given you what I could,” he said.
“It’s all I ask,” she said.
She was no Resonant, but even she could feel the Starflow that now suffused her weapon.
“Great Qam, guide my spear true,” she said quietly.
Two bursts of gunfire were heard. Shouting followed.
“Now!” yelled Sayan. “Cover me closely. I’m going for the MAV.”
She took off at a sprint. The first soldier she saw had his attention directed off to the side as she had hoped. He saw her only a moment before a part of his skull erupted outwards with the impact of several shots. Sayan shot past him.
She was almost at the MAV before the infantry accompanying it saw her. They met similar fates to their companion, mown down with no time to properly react to the threat. The MAV twisted about to target its twin directed energy cannons at its attackers. Two blasts of brilliant light lanced past Sayan and she heard a scream behind her. She did not stop to see what had happened, instead vaulting a stone protruding from the sand, and grabbing onto the side of the MAV with one hand. With her other she thrust the glowing spear into the machine. There was a flash of light and a burst of heat and the machine swayed precariously. She yanked free her spear and leapt back to the sand as the contraption tumbled to the ground.
Yet no sooner had she landed than she saw the bright flashes of incoming energy weapon fire.
“Fall back!” she yelled.
The call echoed out amongst the other warriors still standing and under a hail of incoming fire – kinetics and energy – they ran, bent close to the ground, back towards the safety of the ruins.
Zhen Yan had ended up exactly where she didn’t want to be: facing off against the big guy again. He was not her target, so there was a singular objective: get past him, and separate him from those he was trying to protect. She had missed her one chance to get Princess Mukushen early, but she would not relent.
In the last battle, he had slipped into his berserker state when she’d inflicted a non-fatal wound on him. That meant if she was going to wound him, it had to be the end of him. Otherwise, things would be a lot harder.
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” said Xingyan. “This isn’t who you are.”
Zhen Yan ignored her.
After all, she was dead.
Zhen Yan shook her head.
Think clearly!
But she could feel the Tempest pressing in ever more forcefully, now that both the Qam and the one who had led Nyx and Zhang here were moving farther away.
I won’t be able to keep fighting much longer like this. I have to catch up to the Qam.
But Nyx wouldn’t move, not of his own volition.
Zhen Yan charged him, but unlike last time, he was heavily armed. Both her opponents had firearms, so she had to get in close. Both also appeared to be exceptional shots, willing to shoot her way even when she came close, confident of not hitting each other.
But she had a plan.
If she could just hold herself together long enough to execute it.
She darted towards Nyx. She knew now that the artificial arm he possessed was no match for her Starflow-infused blade, but it would still do some serious damage if he collected her with a punch.
She weaved side to side as Nyx fired at her, evading his shots.
Even as she charged though, everything shifted. Liu Da stood before her. Her mind spun. He was an arms dealer on Lingzhu.
I killed him.
The pain of a bullet impact broke the illusion.
Zhen Yan staggered back, blood drizzling from her side. She moved. Quickly. Any direction, didn’t matter. The next shot would kill her if she didn’t.
Focus.
The dead are just that.
The pressure from the Tempest was becoming unbearable.
“You’ll die here if you keep going,” said Xingyan.
Zhen Yan ignored her, and darted swiftly back towards Kal, weaving as she went. Bullets flew by. Her sword was ready.
With only a firearm, Nyx had no way to fend off her strikes. Surely, he would move.
She struck with speed and force. Nyx raised his forearm and spun his body to one side. Her blade pierced the arm and slid out the other side. It was the metal arm. And though she could cut it, it wasn’t without resistance. A fast motion of Nyx yanked the blade clean from her hands.
But she had her opening.
With all her speed she darted forward.
In an instant, she was past Nyx and into the chamber beyond.
There was a heavy explosion and dust descended like a rain from the towering, shadowy ceiling.
Buka Qam led the way as they descended deeper into the Temple. They had long since left behind all natural light. Chinor and the Qam were carrying bright torches to drive back the pressing shadows. But the shadows were not merely those that could be repelled by the light of a torch: even with the Qam here, the voices of the dead clamoured with ever greater intensity in here. Moreso than when he had crossed Karbaliq unprotected, searching for Mu, Tavian felt a resistance. It was not merely the restlessness of their terrible deaths that bestirred the Učarmaz here, rather there was a distinct sense that they sought to protect something.
What will they do to defend their secrets? he wondered.
Increasingly it felt to him as if his notion of placating them with song was foolhardy. Yet he had never been one to back down merely because a course of action was foolhardy. Nothing for it, then, but to continue on, plunging deeper into this ancient structure, hoping that somehow they emerged alive.
When the circle of light cast by the torches fell upon the walls, he noticed they were carved with immense detail, unlike the smooth and monolithic exterior. Each wall depicted images of people and animals, some seemingly fighting great battles, others involved in what he took to be rituals. Some images unmistakably depicted stars, and the great ships sailing among them. There was script in places too, though none that he could read. It was clearly ancient and worn, yet in here the surfaces were protected from the abrasive sands driven by furious winds, and there was no sign of water or moisture of any kind. Yet the air still had a staleness to it adding, to the borderline claustrophobia of the place, if not the weathering of its surfaces.
They descended stairs, and passed along straight halls, crossed more vast chambers, and always went down, down, down. Tavian was certain now that they must be well below the level of the streets of the Black City, certainly below the rolling sand dunes.
But for the many things clearly wrought by ancient human hands, there was little sign that any living thing had been in this place within the memory of innumerable generations. And though the voices made the presence of the dead within the tempestuous Starflow abundantly apparent, there were no bodies that marked the lives that had once belonged to them – no physical sign of the places where those lives ended.
He turned his gaze to Mu. In her eyes was a look of determination, yet he could see the nerves there too, a tenseness to her posture, her teeth gently biting her bottom lip.
“Inviting spot, isn’t it?” he said.
She looked at him and he could see on her face the process of her mind shifting from something far away, refocusing upon his words.
“I’m sure it was once very beautiful,” she said. “It is a sacred place.”
“In my experience, those can be among the grimmest,” said Tavian.
“You have no respect,” she said, tersely.
“I never get credit for coming along on these wild adventures of yours,” said Tavian, his tone remaining light and amused. As strongly as he felt the weight of the Tempest, he knew it would bear more potently down upon Mu. It would help her to be distracted, to throw a few barbs his way.
“You want a reward?”
“I’m a humble man. Your company is reward enough,” said Tavian, placing a hand to his chest.
“Urgh,” she said, rolling her eyes. He could see some of the stiffness had gone from her posture though.
He cast a glance to Chinor. “How you doing there, mate?” he asked.
Chinor turned his way. “Mallam is bearing the brunt of the Tempest, but it is getting harder the further we go.”
“I feel it too,” said Tavian in his best reassuring voice. “You’re doing well.”
Chinor looked forward once more. “Thank you,” he said.
“Would a story help ease everyone’s nerves?” asked Tavian.
“We don’t want a story,” snapped Mu.
Tavian shrugged. “Just a thought. I have some good ones. Heartwarming and wholesome, lewd and spicy… just ask if you change your mind.”
“I will not be doing that,” said Mu.
“Suit yourself, Princess.”
As they walked, everything shook once more. The sound of the blasts was more muted now, cushioned as the explosions were by an unknown quantity of stone and sand above them. Yet the tremors, the rumble – it served to reinforce the stakes of the situation they now found themselves in. Somewhere up there, Sayan and her fighters were surely immersed in desperate battle. Many were no doubt already dead.
Tavian’s tablet buzzed. He saw an incoming call from Kal.
“Big Guy, what’s happening? Fox dealt with?”
“Cave… in… coming after…”
Kal’s voice was barely intelligible.
“What’s he saying?” asked Mu.
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Tavian shook his head. “Can’t hear much of you there, Kal. What’s this about a cave?”
“…following you, but… she got past…”
“I’m losing you.”
“…careful… hunt… Mu.”
The call went dead.
Tavian sighed.
“What did he say?”
“I’m not sure. But I think the fox got away.”
Mu considered this. “We have to be careful. But he have to keep going.”
“No argument here. Let’s maybe try picking up the pace. How far have we got to go, Buka?”
“Mallam?” asked Chinor, seemingly concerned by Tavian’s omission of the honorific.
“The Sanctum isn’t far. I am unsure what we will encounter when we reach it,” said the Qam.
“Perhaps, Mallam,” said Mu, more diplomatic than Tavian, “If you can, pull in the bubble of protection closer around us. The Hulijing is a Resonant, so she is particularly susceptible to the Tempest.”
The Qam nodded. “I will do what I can.”
They quickened their pace and journeyed deeper into the dark. The dead clamoured mistrustfully in Tavian’s mind. He instinctively touched the case of his mandolin.
I hope you can placate them.
In the far shadows ahead of him he saw the Veiled Lady. But he knew her name now. Barchin, the last Lore-Keeper.
Maybe I can. If she is here.
Ostara stood outside the court, Mingxia and Ulduz at her side. She checked her tablet. Nothing from the rest of the crew in Karbaliq. That was probably fine. If things were going especially wrong, she would have heard. They were reliable like that.
She looked up at the bright lights of the waiting room. They had come here to support Toghrul, but no one was allowed into the closed session of the court under the Emergency Declaration. Instead, they waited here. There was a nervous energy, notwithstanding the certainty of the outcome.
“Will we hear anything before it’s over?” asked Mingxia.
Ostara shook her head. “I doubt it. But they won’t take long.”
“There’s no real question,” said Ulduz. “My brother has made his decision. Toghrul is guilty.”
Ostara knew she was correct. Whatever was happening in that closed room, it was no true deliberation. The powers that be had decided Toghrul’s guilt long before he entered. Truth did not matter. Yet, she had seen enough of such governments to know how they functioned. Keeping up appearances was vital. They would not spend much time, but they would spend just enough to give the illusion that it was possible – however unlikely – that some level of deliberation or debate had occurred.
But Ulduz was right.
Toghrul would walk out of the court a guilty man.
“I guess so,” said Mingixa. “I didn’t see the court cases on Shangxia, but I was aware of them. When my ‘dear’ Yucheng made a decision, that was the outcome.”
Ulduz sighed. “I wonder if I’ve been blind to the true nature of the Empire for too long. Perhaps Toghrul was right.”
Ostara shook her head. “As long as you maintain an openness to learning.”
Ulduz looked downside. “Have I been a coward? Should I have worked with Toghrul?”
Ostara didn’t mince her words. “Perhaps, you should have. But I don’t think that makes you a coward.”
“I thought I could be the conciliator. The one who restored the unity of the family. Both my brothers – and I still believe this – ultimately wanted what was best for Yarkan.”
“That wasn’t a foolish thing to want, nor to work towards. But it did not succeed. I suspect after the moment Toghrul emerges, there will be a choice to be made – by yourself, by Sayan, by every person on this world. One of two fates are in store for Yarkan. The Clanship will awaken or it won’t. If it awakens, then it will be down to Sayan to determine the fate of this world. I can’t say whether the Banner Fleets will come. Perhaps Sayan will find a diplomatic solution, some way of giving autonomy to Yarkan within the Empire. I do not think in all of history the Empire has ever willingly given up a possession.”
Ulduz shook her head. “I don’t know Sayan, except what my brother has told me. But I do not think she is the diplomatic sort.”
“Tavian says she’s smart,” said Mingxia. “I doubt she would go to this effort only to have an Imperial Fleet arrive and bring more hell to this world.”
Ostara smiled. “Hopefully.”
Ostara knew once the decision was made, if Toghrul and Sayan were correct in their plan, there would be little time. Toghrul’s sacrifice would need to happen during the Kurultai of the Dead. If it didn’t, the ritual may not succeed. The Clanship may not awaken.
And if that happened: Sayan and her fighters would die in the desert. Taghay would forge ahead with his plans. For the Amrita there would be other worlds. But Ostara had never been able to assuage her feelings with such nihilism. People mattered. Worlds mattered. Whether the Empire spanned a single world or forty million, that fact was unchanged. And she had come to care for this one.
She wondered what Apollo made of it all. He had said little during their time on Yarkan. And yet he had brought them here for a reason. And Ostara suspected it was not just Ulduz’s ten million taels. As ever, his plans were inscrutable, even to her.
In that soulless place, a bureaucratic building like so many others across the Empire, she waited. Though she was impatient, she told herself the delay was good. It gave Mu and Tavian and the others more time.
Yet it did not last long.
An official of the court emerged. “The Court has reached its deliberation. Yarghunoghul Toghrul is guilty on all charges.”
There it is.
A moment later two guards escorted Toghrul himself out.
Ulduz leapt to her feet and rushed over.
“Stay back,” said one of the guards.
“Toghrul, I’m sorry,” said Ulduz. “I should have believed in you.”
He looked at her with eyes revealing little emotion. “I forgive you, sister. Now we must all be strong. The rest is the domain of the Great Qam.”
Ostara saw the tears welling in Ulduz’s eyes.
“I will make him have mercy. I will tell Taghay—”
“He is beyond mercy.”
“Please clear the way,” said a court official. “The sentence will be carried out immediately. Prisoner Yarghunoghul, you will be transferred to Yengishahr Spaceport for offworld transportation.”
“Please, give us a moment,” insisted Ulduz.
The guards ignored her. Toghrul was escorted away, gone in an instant.
Ulduz turned to Ostara. “The penal colonies: they mean death.”
Ostara knew she was once again correct. “It is not certain.”
“Isn’t there something we can do?” asked Mingxia.
Ostara turned to her. “We can’t stop this.”
But Ulduz came close to Ostara, placing her hands on her shoulders. “Please,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” said Ostara.
“I-I… let me make myself clear. I know. I understand. Toghrul will be sent there. But I can pay you. Get him out.”
Ostara breathed in deeply, gazing into Ulduz’s glistening blue eyes.
“Please,” repeated Ulduz. “I know where he is to be sent. Luanyuan. It’s brutal.”
Ostara raised her head and looked at the ceiling. Then she gazed once more into Ulduz’s imploring face. “I will speak with my Captain.”
Her voice shaky, Ulduz said, “It’s all I ask.”
“We will do what we can, but I cannot make any promises. You must understand… he cannot return to Yarkan. It would invalidate the sacrifice he is making.”
Ulduz nodded frantically. “I know… but if you could just get him somewhere else… somewhere where he can live peacefully. He has endured so much pain.”
Ostara smiled reassuringly at Ulduz, nodding slowly.
She looked to the doors through which Toghrul had been escorted. Time was running out. If only there was a way to buy more time.
Hurry, she urged the others, The sacrifice is almost upon us.
Toghrul was about to take flight.
“We’ve lost contact with Uchuk’s group,” declared Arslan, a grim tone to his voice.
That makes three.
“They’re finding our hiding places. We need to move deeper into the Black City,” said Sayan.
This was not going to be easy. The enemy was now right on top of their position. Any attempt to relocate would be near as fraught as staying still. But they had to try. It was the only way they stood any chance of prolonging this fight.
“Maybe we should disperse more,” said Ilgün.
So far, their strategy had been to sally forth from concealed positions in Karbaliq, launching concentrated attacks targeting the MAVs before returning to their hiding places. Yet this posed significant risks, as a whole group of fighters could be eliminated when discovered by the enemy.
Sayan shook her head, though. “The Qamlar won’t be able to protect our warriors from the Tempest if we do so.”
Ilgün fell silent.
Sayan turned to Arslan. “I ask a little of your strength once more.”
Arslan nodded, yet Sayan could see the exhaustion growing on his face, in his posture. He was not yet a full Qam, yet he was striving to push back the Tempest and gifting her some of his Resonance. On top of that, their communications also fell to him. It was a lot to ask of one so young, yet Sayan only did so because she had faith in his abilities. Each tribe had only one Qam, each of whom had one apprentice. Only by involving the Qamlar in training could they spread out their warriors sufficiently. And among those still training, Sayan could see plainly that Arslan was a man of special Resonance. Thus, she had handpicked him to accompany her through this battle.
He obliged her request, her spear once more becoming suffused with the Starflow.
They were at present in the basement of one of the smaller buildings near the fringes of the Black City.
“I will go to the surface and try and get a sense of the enemy positions and strength around us,” she said. “I will call the rest of you when the time is right. Arslan, let the survivors know to converge on the Plaza of the Khagans. We can draw them inside there and the MAVs will be less effective.”
“Yes, Chief,” he said.
“Ilgün? Lend me your keen eyes.”
The young warrior nodded. With that she followed as Sayan ascended the stairs to the surface. The ground level rooms were dark – there was no artificial lighting and the sunlight had disappeared behind the clouds raised by the sandstorm. The two women walked to one of the windows that looked out upon what had once been a city street, and now was mere drifts of sand.
There were clearly tracks left by a MAV, and smaller ones denoting the passage of infantry. That meant, unless they had been destroyed by another group, that there were now enemy forces between them and the Plaza of the Khagans, potentially severing their axis of retreat.
Sayan looked back up the street. No enemy forces in immediate view, although that was limited. The sounds of gunfire and explosions echoed among the ruins.
“We need to scout out the route of our retreat,” said Sayan.
Ilgün said nothing.
Sayan walked to the door and tentatively looked out. She saw nothing.
“Follow me,” she said.
She darted out into the sand, looking both ways as she did so. Just as they reached the middle of the street, lights gleamed through the clouds of dust. They were still a decent way from the next building entrance. The lights were growing quicker closer. Sayan turned, but her hand on Ilgün’s back and pushed her down into the sand, Sayan dropping alongside her.
“Crawl,” she said to Ilgün, and they slowly made their way towards the edges of the street where great drifts of sand piled against the stone walls.
What terrible timing¸ thought Sayan.
She pushed her spear, which pulsed with the light of the Starflow into the sand.
Moments later a MAV came clanking along the street, five infantrymen around it. Sayan froze. If she could make out the enemy, the same was true in reverse. Only by remaining very still would her and Ilgün escape detection.
She willed the enemy to pass, her heart thundering in her chest as they drew closer. An irrational part of her mind concerned itself that her heartbeat was so loud it would give them away.
It was then, as the MAV drew to its closest point, that she saw more lights approaching from farther back.
Great Qam have mercy!
She only had a moment to contemplate this new information when one of the infantrymen turned their way. At this range there was no way they wouldn’t be seen.
“Shoot!” she yelled at Ilgün.
To the young warrior’s credit, she leapt to her feet, immediately unleashing a flurry of kinetic rounds. Sayan sprinted towards the MAV, spear in hand.
The infantryman who had first spotted them had been spared Ilgün’s fire, but he got one panicked shot away before Sayan had closed the gap, pulling a knife from its sheath. She plunged it into his neck, then shoved his suddenly limp body around. An instant later, it was riddle by the incoming fire of his colleagues. Sayan herself spun aside as the rounds tore out the opposite side of the corpse.
She hefted her spear over her head and with all her might threw it towards the MAV. The machine staggered on the impact and an eruption of Starflow created a burst of light, but it was not put completely out of commission. This was unfortunate – she would not be able to damage it again without a fresh infusion of Starflow from Arslan. Sayan used the moment, however. Ilgün was still laying down suppressing fire, and the MAV – unwieldy at the best of times – was rendered especially so now by the damage of Sayan’s strike.
In a moment, she had her spear back in her hand and rushed back towards the building they had first emerged from. The second unit of enemy forces was now closing in on their position, but with the low visibility afforded by the storm and their comrades in front of them, they had not yet opened fire.
Sayan darted around the hulking form of the MAV. Too late she realised she had stepped directly into a soldier’s line of fire.
She probably would have died at that moment, had the man not tumbled forward. As he did so, her warriors were revealed, emerging from the concealment of the building, weapons trained.
Not following the plan, but I would be dead if they had, she thought.
She yelled over the wind and pointed up the street. “More coming.”
Ilgün’s voice came from behind her. She turned to see her pointing the other direction. That’s when she saw the lights. Another enemy unit must have been ahead of the one they just engaged. Now they were about to be caught in a pincer.
“Fall back! Fall back!” she yelled.
Ilgün sprinted towards her as the others fired on the damaged MAV, which had not fired any shots since Sayan’s strike. As Ilgün passed it, it swivelled towards the other warriors. Sayan had almost reached them now, sprinting with difficulty through the deep sand. They walked backwards while firing, moving in the direction of the building’s entrance. Rifle fire did little against the armour of the MAV.
“Rockets!” yelled Sayan.
Another warrior with a portable launcher stepped forward, aiming towards the MAV. Ilgün stumbled in the sand. She picked herself up and resumed her run just as the rocket launched. There was a great flash of light. The MAV stumbled about once more. Ilgün was thrown face-first into the sand.
Sayan, looking over her shoulder, paused just a moment, then bolted back out into the street.
No sooner had she done so, than the first lance of light from incoming MAV fire struck the ground nearby. She staggered, but kept her footing. It missed her, the enemy clearly still lacking a visual lock on them. She yanked Ilgün to her feet, and the girl groaned. Sayan saw only now that her cloak and sandsuit were ripped, several small shards of metal protruding from her back.
No time to pause. She pulled Ilgün along, even as a second burst of energy weapon fire struck the sand nearby – close enough for Sayan to feel the heat.
Stumbling they reached the entrance, plunging over the threshold.
“She’s injured!” Sayan shouted as she helped Ilgün inside.
Sayan tore off her own cloak and bunched it up on the floor. “Lie down on your stomach,” she instructed Ilgün, who responded with a whimper, but did as she as told, resting her head on Sayan’s cloak.
Arslan rushed over. “I can attempt to heal her… but I’m not sure how much I can do,” he said, as he examined the bloodied mess of Ilgün’s back.
“Do what you can,” she said, knowing this would stretch his abilities even thinner. Even for the most experienced Qamlar, Resonance healing was a difficult technique, and usually only a stopgap before more traditional medicinal interventions.
But Sayan did not have time to delay. The enemy knew their position now.
“Shooters and one rocketeer to the second floor,” she instructed.
Outside the heavily damaged MAV was still staggering around. This came to an end when it was caught by another incoming shot from its own side, the bulk of the machine simply disappearing in a flash of light.
On such a confused battlefield with such low visibility friendly fire was almost inevitable. It was not lost on Sayan that the rocket strike she had ordered was responsible for Ilgün’s injuries. Yet without decisive action the MAV may have taken out all of them, once it got a lock. There was no time for regrets, only continuous, unquestioning decisions. Doubt would bring death.
She sent two more fighters to take up positions by the windows. They would have to pull back if the MAVs got a lock – the walls offering little protection against higher powered directed energy weapons. Still, they might get a few shots on the infantry before they had to do so.
She heard a groan behind her. Not Ilgün, but Arslan.
“What is it?” she asked.
He was kneeling at Ilgün’s side, but his head was bowed and his eyes scrunched closed. Without opening them, he spoke.
“The Tempest just grew stronger. I don’t know how much longer I can hold it back while trying to heal her,” he said.
It must have been the MAV, reasoned Sayan. Whatever onboard technology was repelling the Tempest may have been covering them as well when it was close. The moment it got destroyed, that protection disappeared. Now Arslan was facing the full brunt of the Tempest, while expending much of his energy with healing.
“Send the message that we won’t be able to make the rendezvous with the other groups,” said Sayan. “We’re cut off and have wounded. They should proceed with the plan. We’ll make our stand here.”
Arslan had opened his eyes, but now shook his head. “I don’t think we do.”
“Huh?”
“Have wounded,” he said. He placed his hand against Ilgün’s neck. “She’s dead.”
Mu and the others entered another vast chamber, the far walls concealed among the shadows. Rows of what appeared to be shelves receded into those shadows in every direction. Small crystalline cylinders were arranged in a honeycomb of tubes on the shelves.
“The Chamber of the Lore-Keepers,” announced Buka Qam. “This was where the archives of the Grand Temple were stored. Only one more chamber separates us from the Sanctum, after this.”
Tavian ran his fingers over the end of one of the cylinders on a nearby shelf. “What are these?”
“We think it’s an ancient data storage format,” said Chinor, “Passed down from the Clanship itself. We don’t know how to process it anymore.”
“Hopefully that doesn’t apply to the Clanship as a whole, when we awake it,” remarked Tavian. “Would be a shame to go to all this effort, then not be able to use it.”
“The Učarmaz will show us the way,” said Buka Qam.
“I’m sure you’re right, Mallam,” said Mu, looking Tavian’s way with a frown. Now was not the time to be spreading doubt.
They moved quickly among the rows and rows of shelves, the Lore-Keepers’ Chamber spreading out, seemingly endlessly before them.
With or without Tavian’s help, Mu was having her own doubts. The Učarmaz seemed in a far from obliging mood. Once indecipherable, their voices now conveyed clear meaning in Mu’s mind.
“Be gone from this sacred place, Daughter of Ruin.”
“The Aixin shall not profane the holy.”
“We will defend the Sanctum.”
It occurred to her, that in her determination to help, she may have doomed this venture. Perhaps her very presence would turn the Učarmaz against them, given the devastating legacy of her ancestry.
Had Sayan been right in telling Mu she was being selfish in her desire for redemption?
Her own words came back to her:
I can’t change the past. But I can change the future.
Last time she had yelled it into the Tempest and it had presaged the end of her tribulations during the crossing of the Black City. Perhaps now, keeping those words in mind would carry her to the Sanctum.
I am not my ancestors, nor do I seek to live as the beneficiary of their crimes.
Yet such thinking alone was not going to open the way into the Sanctum. For, as at length the group at last reached the far side of the Lore-Keepers’ Chamber, they found their way blocked. By the wolfskins they wore, Mu recognised those that now barred their passage. They were the Börilar who had once served the ancient Khagan.
“Warriors,” said the Qam, “We seek to enter the Sanctum. Our purpose is the victory of the Jaril over the occupiers.”
The Böri who stood at the centre of their line stepped forward, even as other warriors materialised in the chamber before them, already outnumbering their small group three-to-one.
“You bring one of the invaders with you. You conspire with the enemies of the Jaril. We shall not permit the Daughter of Ruin to pass into the most sacred place of our people.”
“She is not one of them,” said Chinor, “She turned her back on the Imperial Court. She seeks to undo the wrongs of the past.”
“There is no path to redemption for those who carry the blood of the Ruin-Lord.”
Mu saw that more of the Börilar were materialising behind them. They were surrounded, and hugely outnumbered.
“We do not wish to fight you,” said the Qam.
“Then you should leave at once.”
“No,” said Mu, her resolution firming. “We cannot do that. As we speak your descendants are fighting and dying. They are mounting the final defence of Karbaliq. It is the battle you were denied by my ancestor – Yurhudan Khan, First Emperor, Ruin-Lord – call him what you will. And it will end in them dying if you do not hear our plea.”
She swallowed and took a deep breath and then continued. “I urge that you grant us that much. Listen to us. I do not come as an invader – I seek the freedom of Yarkan and her people. But don’t listen to me for my sake, nor even your own. Listen to me so that Yarkan’s children can have a future not defined by the pain of the past’s horrors. Because none of us – living or dead – can change the past, but we can change the future. And that begins with the choices we make here and now. So, make the choice to exchange words, not blows. I ask only that you hear us out.”
“Say your piece then,” said the leader of the Börilar. “Then when you have spoken, we shall decide your fate: whether you are cut down where you stand, or enter the Sanctum.”