Week 18

  The only way to track down the World Tortoise was to follow its Path.

  Cartographers and geographers had analyzed centuries of records and had come to the conclusion that while the Tortoise’s waypoints remained largely the same, the manner in which it reached them would sometimes differ.

  The path of destruction and renewal which followed in the Tortoise’s wake, was the road Calanthe and Briar followed, squinting through goggles as their sand drakes squirmed and huffed over. Briar was ever using her tracking skills, while Ember stalked alongside, his paws never quite touching the hot sand for very long.

  "Remind me why we aren't riding Ember?" Briar asked, not for the first time.

  Callie bounced in the saddle, her tailbone already numb. "Because last time we did that, you threw up in my hair."

  "It was a little vomit," Briar protested. She patted her mount's scaled flank, then leaned down to whisper something. "Besides, these drakes are half wild. I doubt you could control them even if you wanted to."

  Callie grunted. She would have traded her sand drake for a slow, stubborn mule any day. The beast was all muscle and nervous energy, with a mouthful of fangs it liked to show off whenever Callie lost her grip on the reins.

  She pulled back sharply as her drake attempted to overtake Briar's. "Slow down, damn you."

  Briar was mildly amused. "My Ranger-sense is telling me it's going to take us… " she paused for theatrical effect, squinting at the sun, “ …one to two weeks to catch up with the Tortoise, assuming it’s only 4 weeks ahead of us and we manage six hours of riding per day, with the drakes not dying under us. My guess is two weeks, since you’re awful at riding."

  "Did you do all that math in your head just to insult me?"

  "It’s a value-add," Briar said. "But really, it's at least twelve days if we don't break something. Also, I don't think we're actually catching up. He's probably already at the other end of the continent."

  Callie tried to imagine the Tortoise at full speed, plodding across the desert. "It’s not in a hurry," she said. "It'll probably stop to sightsee, eat a cactus or three, maybe take a nap every twenty miles."

  "If only; but that does sound like a nice life," Briar said. "Is it weird that I'm jealous of a reptile?"

  “Not weird. Just you,” Callie replied, twisting in her saddle in agony.

  ***

  They rode in silence for a while, the only sound the scuff of claws on sand and the distant sizzle of the rising sun.

  After the second hour, Briar said, "So we’re really doing all this because Tanith implied that you were bad at your job?

  “I can’t discount the idea that if I was ‘stronger’…” Callie paused for effect. “That’s like a big thing in stories like mine in case you’ve forgotten already… “

  “I haven’t forgotten your bedtime stories,” Briar interrupted pointing to her blue ledger which contained her transcriptions of many of Callie’s bedtime tales.

  “As I was saying, Tanith implied that if I was ‘stronger,’ I could have prevented many more casualties in Sarapis. It’s philosophically debatable, but I should at least give it a try.”

  Briar wasn’t entirely convinced but changed the subject anyway. “So, tell me again about Tanith's ride. It looked like something back ‘home?’"

  "Yes," Callie said. "Biomechanically, it's just an oversized Gila Monster, but with more teeth and a better attitude."

  "So you had this Gila Monster thing where you’re from?"

  "Yeah," Callie said. "Southwest deserts. They're venomous, but not as bad as people think. Slow, lazy, fond of eating bird eggs. They have this stupid grin all the time. Like they know something you don't."

  "That actually explains a lot about Tanith," Briar said. She fished the blue ledger out of her saddlebag, flipped to a fresh page, and scribbled something. "Gila Monster," she said, reading her own handwriting. "I’m adding it to the bestiary."

  Callie craned her neck. "You’re making a field guide now?"

  "I’m making our field guide," Briar said. "If the world is going to keep trying to kill us, I want to know all the stupid ways it can happen."

  "Very logical," Callie said, unable to suppress a smile.

  Briar grinned back, then snapped the ledger shut and tucked it away.

  ***

  They crossed a stretch where ragged shards actually littered the Tortoise’s wake. The sand drakes hissed at the footing, shuffling sideways to avoid slicing open their pads.

  Then, in the far distance, something kicked up a plume of dust so vast it blotted out half the eastern sky.

  Briar noticed it first. "Weather’s about to get interesting," she said, shading her eyes.

  Callie followed her gaze. The plume was moving towards them, a dense column that twisted and billowed with each gust of wind.

  "Actually, that’s not a sandstorm," Briar said. "It’s too focused. More like something’s making it."

  Briar unslung her bow and nocked an arrow, more out of habit than expectation. "Think it’s our friend?"

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  "The Tortoise? Unlikely," Callie said. “It’s going way too fast and in the opposite direction.”

  They kicked their sand drakes into a faster trot, the creatures reluctantly obeying. Ember, as if sensing the shift in urgency, sprinted straight down the line of the road.

  As the dust cloud drew closer, they could make out a shape at its heart; something dark, low to the ground, and much wider than it was tall.

  Briar made to swerve out of the thing’s path. "It’s not stopping."

  Callie didn’t have time to reply, because the plume was almost on them. She barely had time to shout "Hold on!" before the shockwave hit, the leading edge of the cloud smashing into them with the force of a freight train.

  Her sand drake panicked and threw Callie off the saddle. She hit the ground hard and rolled away as she was taught.

  Briar dismounted and trotted up to Callie.

  Callie groaned, tested her limbs, and found nothing broken. She spat out a mouthful of sand and glared at Briar, who had already jogged over to offer a hand.

  Ember padded to her side, looking smug.

  "Not a word," Callie warned him, then took Briar’s hand and got to her feet.

  They turned, and watched as the source of the dust cloud came to a halt a few meters in front of them—a house-sized tortoise, its shell gleaming with intricate golden fractals that caught the sunlight like constellations. His face, when he turned it, bore the pursed-lip severity of a librarian caught in the act of reshelving.

  Briar circled him, eyes wide. "It’s a baby Tortoise," she whispered, reverent.

  Callie rolled her eyes. "And how do you know it’s a baby? Is it wearing a bib or something?"

  Briar gave her a scandalized look, then poked her sharply in the ribs. "It’s my ranger skills."

  Eugene regarded them with slow, judicial blinking. "Lady Calanthe," he said, dipping his head low enough that the glass beneath creaked. "Eugene at your service. It is customary to bow, if you please."

  Callie blinked. "Uh. Like this?" She attempted an awkward half-curtsy, which Briar immediately exaggerated with a theatrical bow of her own, arms flung wide.

  Eugene looked moderately satisfied. "My mother, the Lady of the Way, was most aggrieved that you missed your previous appointment. She waited two full days for you at the Petalorian Archive. She was not well pleased by your tardiness."

  Eugene’s next statement came with the heavy cadence of someone reciting from a carved plaque. "I am to escort you to a portal from which you may find safe passage directly to the Axiomatic Kernel. The northerly Path you are currently taking has become treacherous for reasons that may or may not involve a non-trivial number of demon stragglers on the way ahead.

  “You are advised to refrain from inciting extraneous narratives during your passage, as the local plot density is already unmanageable. Furthermore, should you, Calanthe, once again neglect to advance the main plot, the world will take matters into its own hands.'“

  He looked at Callie pointedly. "Do you understand?"

  Callie’s mouth was dry. "Is it really that important that I keep moving?"

  Eugene gave a deep, slow exhalation. "If it were up to me, I would be perfectly content to sleep for a few decades and let the world sort itself out. However, the rules are not mine to set."

  Briar whispered, "He’s sassy for a tortoise."

  "I heard that," Eugene snapped, more piqued than angry. “I will now recite the short missive that my mother enjoined me to convey to you:

  Lady Calanthe,

  After waiting two full days at the Petalorian Archive, I had no choice but to proceed on my way. Your failure to rendezvous with me is regrettable but all is not lost. Please endeavor to follow my son's, Eugene's, instructions, and I will meet you at the Axiomatic Kernel in five weeks.

  T. “

  “That’s nothing like what you told me earlier,” Callie protested. “All those threats; did you make them up?”

  Eugene look horrified for a moment, then shook his head in protest. “I am incapable of falsehoods. I was merely conveying the tone of her voice and the unspoken mysteries behind her words. Would you have preferred to have been kept in the dark concerning the urgency of the matter? Tsk, tsk.”

  Eugene resumed his briefing, voice smoothing into the measured drone of a professional messenger. "The estimated window for your rendezvous with my mother is between four to five weeks. We should reach the Axiomatic Kernel in one week if we use a portal less than a weeks journey in the opposite direction.

  “If you have concerns, or if would like to file a formal complaint, my mother recommends that you simply lodge them with the desert sands."

  Callie processed this in silence. She felt as if she were being handed an interoffice memo from a company she’d never worked for.

  Briar, meanwhile, had already begun scribbling in the blue ledger, tongue between her teeth. "Axiomatic Kernel. Will we meet Tanith there?"

  Eugene considered this. "Probably. Yes. I understand that she will be returning there once she’s done with some matters at Sarapis. The Kernel provides their faithful with ways and means to travel swiftly between the surrounding cities and the Academy, but those are unavailable to us. And please do not address Professor Sekhmet by that appellation. Unless you find it appropriate that worms address higher life forms in a familiar fashion."

  “I’m not going to be in insulted by that last thing you said… I’m not,” Briar said, circling around Eugene, perhaps to tweak its tail. “But it does beg the question why you’re allowing me to call you ‘Eugene’”

  “That’s because I’m nice.” Eugene turned his gaze back to Callie. "Do you have any follow-up questions, or will you be proceeding along the recommended route to the portal?"

  Callie glanced at Briar, who shrugged. "Let’s just go with it," Briar whispered.

  Callie nodded. "We’ll follow your lead, Eugene. But…"

  He held up a broad, clawed foot for silence. "Before you ask, no, I do not know the answers to life’s deeper mysteries. I am a mere three hundred years old and have only just come of age. Until recently I was not even trusted to deliver my mother’s correspondence." His head sank lower, voice dropping to a pout. "It has been an exceptionally undignified period in my life."

  Briar, in a rare show of empathy, said, "You’re doing great, Eugene."

  Eugene straightened, pride restored. "Thank you, Ranger Briar. My apologies for calling you an invertebrate earlier; you are certainly no worse than an insect. Now: if you will be so good as to mount my shell, we may make better time. The local fauna will think twice before accosting the progeny of the World Tortoise, and you will be less likely to fall prey to dramatic plot reversals."

  Callie tried to hide her smile. She helped Briar up first, then followed, Ember leaping easily to a forward ridge and pacing along its top like a sentry. The shell was warm and oddly springy beneath her boots.

  Once they were settled, Eugene started off, slow at first, then gradually picking up speed until the world blurred by in bands of color as he moved off the Path.

  ***

  It was four days and several pit stops later, when Eugene paused at the crest of a dune and announced, "We are approaching Dust Haven. It is not large, but it is the only village until we reach the portal. If you have business to conduct, do so quickly."

  Callie shielded her eyes. The oasis shimmered on the horizon, bordered by a thin line of palms and a cluster of adobe huts. From this distance, it looked tranquil, even inviting.

  Briar leaned forward, peering over the edge of the shell. "I count maybe thirty houses. One big meeting hall. Livestock pens… Something’s wrong."

  Ember lifted his nose to the wind and let out a sharp howl. A moment later, the first hint of smoke reached them. It wasn’t the gentle woodsmoke of cooking but something sharper, sulfuric, tinged with panic.

  As they drew nearer, the source of the smoke became apparent: the largest building, the meeting hall, was burning, sending up a cloud of black and orange that painted the sky. Striding through the town, admiring its own handiwork, was an immense black dragon. It seemed to be considering whether it should torch some of the villagers for sport.

  “Oh, this is quite ideal,” Eugene intoned. “You really do have the luck of the devil, Lady Calanthe!”

  “No, stop, I won’t hear another word.” Callie put her palms to her ears but Eugene’s voice was far too piercing to be disrupted by mere human flesh.

  Eugene’s mouth betrayed the barest hint of a smile. “It appears that we won’t have to travel the entire distance to ask for permission to use the portal, since its owner is before us.

  “Lady Calanthe, please dismount and negotiate with that overgrown lizard.”