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me.
The air began to whisper and rustle, like a gentle breeze in a time of falling
leaves. The sound started in the dimness far below. It rose toward us, met and
passed us before I had any real chance to become afraid. I had a brief
impression of passing two-dimensional, black, transparent forms accompanied by
a touch of cold and a whiff of old mold, then autumn was gone on to adventures
far above.
At times the stairway passed behind the outer face of Khang Phi. Windows
presented themselves then. Each was filled with an exquisite view of grey
mist. Shapes moved within the greyness, never defined. They did not need
definition for me to know that I had no interest in making the acquaintance of
anything that did not mind having a thousand feet of wet air beneath its toes.
Several times I saw Shikhandini drift downward or rise through the fog. Once
she saw me watching, paused, smiled and showed three slim fingers in a
delicate wave.
The genuine Tobo was not shy any digits.
What I did not see during our entire descent was even one member of the Khang
Phi community. They all had business elsewhere when we passed by.
"How much farther?" I panted, thinking it was a good thing I had lost all that
weight while I was recuperating.
I got no answer. No one wanted to waste the breath.
It proved to be much farther than I had hoped. It always is when you are
running away.
Ten Finger Shikhandini was waiting with the horses and the rest of our gang
when we stumbled out of the unguarded Lower Gate. Animals and escort were
ready to travel. All we had to do was mount up and go.
Tobo would sustain the Shiki role till we were home again. The Children of the
Dead did not need to know that he was she.
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Tobo told his mother, "Sri Santaraksita refused to come."
"I didn't think he would. That's all right. He did his part. He'll be happier
here after we're gone."
Sleepy agreed. "He's found his paradise."
"Excuse me," I gasped. It had taken me three tries and a boost from a helpful
escort to get myself into the saddle. "What did we just do?"
"We committed robbery," Sleepy told me. "We went in there pretending we were
going to appeal to the File of Nine yet one more time. We got them all twisted
out of shape by naming some of their names, so they had nothing else on their
minds while we stole the books containing the information we need to get home
safely."
"They still don't know," Tobo said. "They're still looking the other way. But
that won't last. The doppelgangers I left behind will fall apart before long.
Those things can't keep their minds on business."
"Quit jawing and ride, then," Sleepy grumbled. I swear. The woman was Annalist
for fifteen years. She ought to have a better appreciation of the Annalist's
needs.
The mist surrounded us and seemed to move with us, unnaturally dense. Tobo's
work, probably. Shapes moved out there but did not come too close. Until I
looked back.
Khang Phi had vanished already. It might be a thousand miles away or might
never have existed at all. Instead I saw things I would rather not, including
several of the Black Hounds, big as ponies, with high, massive shoulders like
those of hyenas. For an instant, as they began to lose color and focus, an
even larger beast with a head like a leopard's, but green, loomed out of the
mist between them. Cat Sith. It, too, wobbled away from reality, like an
exaggerated case of heat shimmer fading. The gleam of its exposed teeth was
the last to go.
With Tobo's help we evaporated into the landscape ourselves.
Chapter 16
Wastelands: Night's Children
Narayan Singh released his grip on his rumel, the consecrated killing scarf of
a Strangler. His hands had become two aching, arthritic claws. Tears filled
his eyes. He was glad the darkness hid them from the girl. "I never took an
animal before," he whispered, drawing away from the cooling carcass of the
dog.
The Daughter of Night did not respond. She had to concentrate hard to use her
crude talents to misdirect the bats and owls searching for them. The hunt had
been on for weeks. Scores of converts had been taken. The rest had scattered
in time-honored fashion. They would come together again after the hunters lost
interest. And the hunters did lose interest in them before long. But this time
the Witch of Taglios seemed determined to collar the Daughter of Night and the
living saint of the Deceivers.
The girl relaxed, sighed. "I think they've moved off to the south." Her
whisper contained no note of triumph.
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