‘Stop it! Just stop it!’ Nephenia cried.
I looked up to see her face full of tears and uncertain anger. Why was she so angry with me? Maybe because you punched her in the face, idiot. And yet here she was, trying to pull Panahsi away from me. Twin bruises were forming around the eyes of my one-time friend, painting dark, uneven circles. You’d make an ugly squirrel cat, Panahsi, I thought absently.
‘Stop laughing,’ he said, slapping me across the face. It seemed like a sissy thing to do, but then I realised his hand must be hurting from punching me. That sent me into more spasms of laughter.
Tennat kicked me again. I heard something crack. ‘What’s so funny, you stupid, magic-less piece of crap?’
‘Don’t you get it?’ I asked. ‘I do have magic. I just made a squirrel cat disappear.’
I don’t know if anyone but me thought that was funny, because at this point Panahsi and Tennat were taking turns kicking me and then someone’s foot connected with my head, snapping it back so that it collided with the corner of the cage.
The light of the moon winked in and out, the world alternating between harsh reality and perfect, peaceful darkness, blacker than any shadow.
‘Ancestors!’ Panahsi said. ‘What is that?’
I thought he was looking at me and wondered just how much blood was leaking out of my head, but as my vision came back I followed the line of his sight towards the other side of the colonnade. A shadowy form was scurrying along the ground towards us. No, not a shadow. Many shadows.
As the dark shapes came closer, throwing up sand as they raced towards us, the light from the lantern revealed colours ranging from every shade of brown to the deepest black, their fur almost matching the darkness around them. Nekheks, I thought, absurdly still not sure what to call them even as I felt myself start to panic at the sight of more than a dozen of the creatures. Finally they stopped, half encircling Tennat and the others, growling and chittering furiously. One of the creatures, which I recognised as the one I’d freed from the cage, the one that had bitten my hand so hard it was bleeding even now, rose up on its haunches. It growled and chittered too, only something about the noises he made was different.
I could understand them.
He – and I suddenly knew it was a he because of the tone of his voice – glanced at me for a second before turning to Tennat and the others, baring his teeth and saying, ‘All right, you hairless skinbag sons of bitches. Which one of you wants it first?’
21
The Squirrel Cats
The oasis was so quiet that I wondered if perhaps the disturbing image before me was the result of one too many blows to the head. The squirrel cats – though now the word nekhek seemed more appropriate – held their ground, the muscles of their furry bodies twitching, almost quivering in anticipation. Panahsi, Nephenia and Tennat were more still, each one struggling to find the inner calm required to cast Jan’Tep magic. I found myself counting the seconds down, as if I were about to witness a mage’s duel. I could almost hear old Osia’phest: ‘Seven … six … five …’
‘Damn it,’ Panahsi said, fingers twitching as they ran through the somatic forms for a conflagration spell. He’d incinerate the animals if he could cast the ember magic wide enough, but his face was glistening with sweat and his chest was still pumping from his prior exertions. He couldn’t draw the magic inside himself yet, but he still kept his eyes on the squirrel cats. Panahsi knew full well that he was more powerful than Nephenia and Tennat. He’d see it as his job to protect the others. He really was a pretty admirable person when he wasn’t kicking you half to death.
I had no idea what the squirrel cats were thinking. The fur of the thin, flat skin between their front and hind legs rippled in the soft late-night breeze. It was like watching waves on the surface of a lake, if that lake happened to be made of pure unbridled rage and the promise of imminent bloodshed.
‘We should back away,’ Nephenia suggested without taking her eyes off the creatures. ‘Then we can call for help.’
Panahsi’s hands were still running through the somatic forms, but he said, ‘We can’t. The quieting spell is still active. No one can hear us.’
So that’s why I didn’t hear you until I was near the ring of the columns. It made sense of course. With the little monster screaming under their blood spells, someone would have been bound to hear eventually. But none of them, not even Panahsi, had the experience to cast a hush that could cover the whole oasis. Somebody must have helped them do it – maybe Tennat’s brother or his father?
‘No backing away,’ Tennat said, his voice soft, almost reassuring. ‘We kill them. Every last one of them.’
Apparently he wasn’t as good at bluffing as he thought, because a couple of the squirrel cats started growling and I could see them shifting, muscles bunching in preparation to attack.
The lead animal chittered back at them, ‘Nobody attacks until I give the damned order.’ Some of the others hissed and growled, but I had no idea what they’d said until the leader snapped back, ‘Well, I’m in charge now, so shut up and wait.’
The little chitters and grunts and growls he made were so clearly speech to my ears that I kept thinking Panahsi, Tennat and Nephenia must be able to understand them too. None of them showed any sign of it, though Nephenia looked conflicted. She glanced over at me, her face full of fear and anger and … I don’t know what. Maybe regret? Or maybe you just want to see that because then it might not be over between you. Like maybe you just think you suddenly learned to speak Nekhek because maybe that would justify betraying your own people.
‘They haven’t attacked us yet,’ Nephenia said. ‘Maybe if we just leave—’
‘No,’ Tennat said, his voice more forceful now. ‘We’ll be heroes for this, Neph. You’ll be able to choose any path of study you want and the masters will support you. We can set our entire futures right now if we wipe this lot out. When Pan casts the fire river, be ready to support his spell. Then we can watch these little monsters dance to their own death.’
The sickening excitement in Tennat’s voice at the thought of burning these animals alive set my stomach churning, but it also felt oddly reassuring to know that he was just as rotten a human being as I’d always suspected. Is it wrong that I kind of like hating him this much?
Slowly and quietly, I began shifting my weight, preparing to get my feet under me.