Slithering Maze 25: A Little Dust In My Eyes

Basysus 30, 1278: Above ground in the Mandami Hills. Some moments give you miracles. Others take them right back, leaving you standing in the dust…

Author’s Note: Kingdom of the Slithering Maze is a serialized fiction story that is a part of a collection called the Windtracer Tales. It follows the adventures of Tela Kioni and her crew dealing with expeditions in and around the world of Awldor. There they hunt down lost, and possibly lethal, relics of the Ancient Order, a near-mythical kingdom lost to the centuries old cataclysm, the Great Collapse.

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Previously: Trapped inside the Deeplands, Tela and Azure flee through ancient tunnels pursued by Auditor Gregori Elkerton and his centaur enforcers. Cornered and outmatched, Tela risks drawing mind-threads as a last ditch effort—only for an unexpected ally to answer her call. As stone breaks and predators wake, the Deeplands remembered more than Elkerton ever planned…

Basysus 30, 1278: Above ground in the Mandami Hills. Some moments give you miracles. Others take them right back, leaving you standing in the dust…

The thing about a prairie, Planus or otherwise, was that the evenings were cold. But sometimes, that wasn’t what made you shiver.

Once we’d found the surface, I built a tiny fire from old grass and a few unlucky tumbleweeds that crossed our path. A sentry of small, red rocks kept it contained in a shallow pit. The wind stole part of the warmth and carried it over the fescue into the dirt-red hills, leaving the dusty scent of fresh sage behind.

Barely five paces away, a basilisk-sized pit, two wagons wide, was an open maw to the Deeplands and their ruins. That hole was as quiet as the wind. There was no Elkerton, no centaur warriors—just nothing. We lost sight of them once the basilisk chased them off.

The sky above the Mandami hills was a bruised evening canopy speckled with glimmering stars. It was soothing, but my eyes still wandered toward the horizon and Herd Tolvana’s excavation. The campsite was a sprawling blight beyond the farthest hills and the north-south wagon trail.

“Do you think they’ll bother to search this far?” Azure signed, then glanced uneasily at Herd Tolvana’s encampment.

I squinted at the section of camp we could see past the rust-red hills and wind-blown fescue. Nothing moved out that way. Specks of large campfires glowed around the tents, broken by the occasional shadows. Slowly, I signed a reply.

“They will. This horrid mess means business and money for the Jatans. It’s practically religious dogma for them.” I forced the tension from my face, giving my elemental friend what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “But they’ll start by searching the Deeplands, not up here. Not at first. We’ll be long gone by the time they get here.”

“What about the fire?”

I shrugged, waving a hand around us.

“Too many grassy hills—it breaks up the glow.” A soft sigh fell out. “Now, if this were flatland? They’d see us for leagues away, so we would’ve needed a cold camp.”

Azure nodded. “Fire isn’t my friend, but after what happened? I think we all needed this.”

The basilisk, and sole reason behind our dramatic escape, let out a low snore like a damp landslide. It didn’t roll over, but instead curled a bit tighter; as if it were the world’s largest cat that ate magic. I swapped a grin with Azure and then jabbed our fire with a stick. A burst of orange embers mushroomed into the air, losing themselves in the wispy smoke.

“Still not sure resting here is wise, though,” I added.

Azure wrung dark water from her cobalt hair into a small puddle in front of her. Then, she combed out the strands using her fingers.

“It was necessary,” she replied, indicating the crude, blood-stained bandage on my arm that had been torn from my shirt. “Still is. Tela, we were bleeding. Sometimes you just have to stop running and take a breath.”

I slid a narrow-eyed glance at her, then stabbed the fire again to set free another cloud of embers.

“Is that a fancy way of telling me I look like a used, third-hand knife target?”

Azure simply replied with a superior smile, then went back to combing. I snorted, then studied her as she fussed with her hair. It didn’t take long before she noticed, giving me a mildly perturbed look. Her fingers were quick with a response.

“Just because I’m a water elemental doesn’t mean I actually like groundwater and mud clogged in my hair.”

“Fair,” I gestured back with a chuckle.

Eventually, she seemed satisfied that the muck was gone, then brushed her hair out of her face. Her summoned clothes were another story. They were as mud-caked and smeared as mine, but those didn’t seem to matter. She stared at the fire thoughtfully before shaping her next question.

“That centaur man? Gregori Elkerton? He’ll lead the searching, won’t he?”

I nodded and signed back, picking my words.

“He will, because now it’s personal. Most here in Arth Prayogar… really in all of Jata… aren’t all bad. They’re trying to navigate corrupt laws sewn with prejudice.”

A slow breath fell out of me.

“But Elkerton’s one of those people who likes power. You can see it in his eyes.” I shrugged. “We rubbed his nose in the idea that he’s not as superior as he thinks he is. So yes, he’ll chase us until he’s dead or we are.”

The dire conversation relaxed into a calm silence, broken only by the light rumble from the sleeping basilisk. It was quiet and should have been soothing, but my nerves wouldn’t accept it. I leaned back against an old sandstone outpost marker. The lettering was partly weathered off, and as for the rest, I had no idea what it meant. But at the moment, it made a good backrest, and that was enough.

I avoided the urge to stare into the campfire. Even if my eyes weren’t sensitive to light, it was still a bad idea. Doing that would’ve blinded me to anything that wanted to creep up on us in the dark. I stared worried holes at the shadowy Herd Tolvana campsite until Azure tapped me on the knee.

“What is…” Then she made a sign language gesture that I didn’t know. When I shook my head, she spelled it out. “Vasam? You got excited when you saw that carved on the door?”

I grinned and nodded, despite my aches, pains, and persistent dread of the moment.

“Rathalla Vasam. He was a mercenary who had an eye for architecture. When he wasn’t planning defenses, or how to crack them, he ran ancient ruins with exploration crews.” I leaned forward, legs crossed, as I gestured to the hills. “His name on that door tells me he’s been here. I hoped that his journal might tell us what.”

“You have it now?”

I shook my head. “No. It’s back in the city. But this also explains why someone wanted to steal it. There’s something in it about what we found. My guess is that Rima Nimad or Herd Tolvana wants it. But I don’t remember any mention of viprin ruins like Toshirom Ifoon, though.”

Azure tilted her head a little, brow furrowed.

“I know that name. It was part of the Bargain placed on my people centuries ago.”

An uneasy dread ghosted over me.

“Centuries? You’ve been trapped in that temple for centuries?”

She looked away into the evening. A sad, distant look misted over her eyes before she formed the reply.

“No. Only five years. The Bargain was because of a shaman’s debt—an old one. Every ten years, one of my people had to serve as a guard. I had five more years to go.”

Her explanation hit me like a frigid bucket of water. The horrid idea of being forced to stand guard alone in some underground ruin for ten years made my stomach twist. Doubly so, since it was a debt to a viprin shaman.

“Azure, I…”

The water elemental quickly put a hand on mine to interrupt me. She shook her head with a gentle smile.

“Don’t,” she signed. “You broke the Bargain. No one will ever be forced to stand watch there again. So, what does Vasam have to do with what we found?”

I studied her for a moment, then drew a shallow breath before I replied.

“I’m pretty sure I remember Rathalla wrote about that style of bricklaying and wave-shaped archways.” I leaned back against the flat stone marker again. “It got me wondering if that Deepland Hollow wasn’t natural, but made. If so, by who? Did they make the other ruins down there, too?”

My thoughts about the journal drifted like a meandering stream to swirl around Mikasi, Skarri, and Kiyosi. Worry creased my forehead as I stared holes into the evening air.

Azure must have guessed my thoughts. She raised her eyebrows at me with a smile.

“They’re probably fine. Remember what Elkerton said? He doesn’t know where your friends are. Since he doesn’t, the lich doesn’t.”

I shot a worried glance at Azure and then back to the evening stars with a sigh.

“Which means they got Kiyosi out. Also, I bet Herd Tolvana will never get permission from the city council to raid inns in broad daylight. The Trade-Wardens would shut that down.”

“There’s something else, though,” Azure signed carefully.

I met her eyes with a shadowed frown.

“You,” she explained. “What you did. Mind-threadcasting. Lady Nimad was very interested when you did that. Elkerton was terrified. Your threadcasting will make them hesitate. It’s a gift.”

I glanced away with a derisive snort. A crimson flush slapped my cheeks as I clenched my jaw. The words I signed were all sharp and pointed.

“It’s a curse. I barely trust healing magic and certainly don’t trust the other kinds.” My hands trembled, so I clasped them until I got my nerves under control. “It keeps trying to destroy me.”

Azure gestured to the sleeping basilisk, who let out an oddly adorable drooling snort.

“The basilisk doesn’t look destroyed.”

I looked from Azure to the basilisk, then glared holes into the middle space between myself and the evening.

“Luck.”

Azure shook her head. “Perhaps you see people as they are and accept them as that. You did when you saw me. Maybe you should try doing that for yourself?”

I’ve had stab wounds that hurt less than that. Instead of fumbling through a reply, I wrapped my arms around myself and glared defiantly out at the evening.

Our silent conversation of hand gestures wilted into a quiet moment of wary reflection. It was Azure who broke the moment first. With a careful look around, she gracefully rose to her feet, then brushed her blue hands along her trousers.

“Time to go,” she signed.

I leaned over to toss dirt over our limp campfire to extinguish it. As I stood, Azure walked over to rouse the basilisk, who yawned sleepily.

“We should make it to Arth Prayogar in a couple of hours,” I signed with a measured glance at the distant, dark city walls. “The Trade-Wardens might need a little convincing, but…”

“No,” Azure interrupted me.

Thoughts collided in my head and turned into bad conclusions I didn’t want to think about. The water elemental continued before I signed a word.

“I’ll lead your basilisk back home to others like it. Neither of us can stay. Should stay.”

“Wait. Hold on now,” I gestured back, but Azure’s expression was determined.

“It wouldn’t be safe for you.” She gestured to the sleepy basilisk and then herself. “The Jatans would notice and break off searching the Deeplands. You’d lose your advantage. Tela, you need this time to be invisible, not draw attention. Not yet.”

I blinked as my eyes stung.

“But…” Then my hands froze as I ran out of words.

Azure was so very right, and I hated it. Once in Arth Prayogar, no matter how careful, word would reach Herd Tolvana faster than a prairie fire. It would erase any small advantage we had. We needed that advantage.

I drew in a quiet, shuddering breath.

“All right.” My hands trembled again. “I called you Azure, but what’s your real name?”

Azure’s bright smile almost eclipsed the moon.

“My real name is Azure’sella Unaru’Mere.”

I let out a bitter chuckle. “Well, I was close.”

“You saw the shape of it. That’s enough,” Azure replied.

“Hey, if you’d like, come find us in Ishnanor. It’s along Embercrest Bay,” I signed.

Azure nodded. “Of course.”

Once the fire was fully out, we returned to the gaping pit we’d used to get up here in the first place. At the edge, I studied Azure and the basilisk in turn. The huge beast gently shook its head before it blinked at me. I gave a hard hug.

“Stumpy? Be careful, okay? Play nice with the other basilisks,” I breathed against his head-scales.

It mewed softly.

When I turned to face Azure, she had folded her arms with a soft, sad expression. I gestured to the basilisk I now thought of as ‘Stumpy’.

“I really would love to take him to Arth Prayogar, but I know they’d try to collar and use him as a magical siege weapon.”

Azure let out a musical laugh. “He’d eat their city council.”

I rubbed the corner of an eye and bit my lower lip.

“Tempting,” I signed.

I stood by the hole while Azure climbed down, then urged the basilisk to follow. It did reluctantly. About three Ancient Order meters down, they stood at the bottom of the pit next to an open tunnel. Azure raised a hand to me with a smile as Stumpy mewed. My eyes stung again as they vanished into the Deepland’s darkness.

With a sigh, I turned away. I owed Kiyosi and the others an apology, hugs, and probably a week’s worth of sweets. After a damp sniff, I rubbed my eyes and nose. After that, I started the long walk back to Arth Prayogar—alone, but maybe a little less lost.

Some roads are paved in ruins, others in regret. Maybe, just maybe, mine had a little hope. Time would tell.

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Windtracer Tales is a work of pure, unashamed fiction. In fact, it considers itself rather fancy and quite proud of itself. Names of characters, places, events, organizations and locations are all creations of the author’s imagination for this fictitious setting. Any resemblance to persons living, dead, or reanimated is coincidental. The opinions expressed are those of the characters and should not be confused with the author’s, since the characters and the author tend to disagree a lot.

Also! Windtracer Tales and Windtracer: Adventures in Awldor is written with much respect to Starfarertheta and their work on the other half of Awldor.