Priestess Sinaya’s squandered gift.The queen’s heart’s desire. I suspected as much when I saw the tree above the Maelstrom, and now I’m certain. I stare at the bird –Adarnait tells me in my head, voice piercing behind my eyes.
A creature that can turn flesh to stone has so much potential for chaos. I look to the bird as it sings its death chant, luring us to give up, to give in. It’s a voice that tells us that succumbing is the easiest. It would be so sweet to close our eyes, to let our minds smooth and melt to a puddle. It would be as peaceful as slipping into sleep. One moment, flesh. The next, stone.
When I can finally pull my gaze away from the bird, my body resists movement. The others are stiffening, flesh turning to stone faster than before. Ris leans against me as we stagger for protection behind the rock figure. From their conversation I deduced this had been someone important to her once, and to Finlyr also. Biba’s father, if I had to guess. There will be time to mourn the dead, but we must move if we hope to stay among the living.
‘Fin,’ Ris whispers as I examine her, measuring the extent of the turning.
Finlyr is worst of all. His arms are marble-veined, meeting from hand and shoulder at a point around the bicep with four small bleeding holes.
‘What is that?’ I ask, turning his arm carefully.
‘That is my doing,’ Sinigang admits.
Adarna shrieks, and Biba slowly opens her eyes and stretches. The bird scoops up Biba with its wings, and the girl grips hard onto its feathered breast. It beats its wings, and we duck as nest debris comes flying towards us. Feathers and swords and glass bottles. Detritus collected from its victims over the years.
We throw ourselves behind the statues, our bodies rebelling against the movements. A bottle smashes against one of them, glass raining down on us. There’s a huge gash on my leg. I examine the cut: it’s an angry red, deep and bloody. Everything’s stopped. There’s silence. Blissful blessed silence. The pain of the cut, the smell of the blood. Just like practising healing at Aistra. I grab another shard of glass and slice my skin.
Sinigang watches me. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Pain helps,’ I gasp out through cuts.
Sinigang nods and then lunges for Finlyr. He yells and jerks back as the otter-cat sinks his teeth into the skin and releases. Blood seeps into the ragged torn shoulder of his shirt. He can’t take his eyes off the wound, pulsating rhythmically.
‘Why the fuck did you do that?’ he shouts.
‘You have to bleed,’ Sinigang insists, extending his claws.
‘Drown out the song,’ I say, showing him the gash on my leg. ‘Pain reminds you you’re alive.’
‘You never heard of cat-scratch fever?’ he demurs. ‘Get Ris, we need to get Biba back!’
The pain has quietened the song, and I can finally hear myself think. Adarna can turn flesh to stone, draining the life out of us. It feeds on our energy, just like the queen and Raina when they fed on me. I understand why she wants the bird home. A priestess is aconduit for the energy across all Paranishian life forms; a private feast for the royals. Adarna would be even more powerful and wouldn’t burn out like the priestesses. The ultimate power over Life and Death. It would be the ruin of us all. I can’t let her have it.
‘You must hurt yourself; that’s the only way we survive this,’ I insist, as Ris stares at me helplessly. She’s too rigid to move. I crawl over to her, the brand on my thigh burning, the flesh outlined like a rash. Like Finlyr’s shoulder where Sinigang bit him. I have an idea, and instead of bringing the blade to her skin, I press the brand against her, my thigh against hers. A scorching, searing pain radiates across my body, and I hear a muffled cry from Ris. Then the stone is receding, flesh warm and soft beneath mine. I hold us together as the cold rock leaves her body enough so she can move. I’m only holding back the tide, but if I can buy us more time we might have a chance.
‘We have to get Biba,’ she says as soon as she can.
‘I’ve got an idea,’ I tell her. ‘We need to get to the bird, all right?’
She nods, grabbing at the others who are being corralled by Sinigang.
I think back to the times the queen drained me. To the powerlessness I felt in those moments. Life slowly ebbing away, flowing down into the void. I picture a waterfall, and I flip it in my mind. I reverse the flow of the life force, a trickle but there, nonetheless. My power is just out of reach, but I can latch on to Adarna’s. I touch Raina’s cheek, joining her to the energy chain.
‘Follow me,’ I yell as I charge towards the bird and jump. I latch on to its feathers, trying to find purchase as I yank some of them out.
‘Hanan,’ Ris shrieks, following in my wake.
She helps me onto the bird’s mantle. Once I have my legs either side of it, I grab at the tufts by its nape for purchase.
Adarna bucks and screams, but it’s no good. I tug back the power it drained. I focus my mind on its throat, imagining I could place my hands down its gullet and still its voice.
‘We don’t have much time. Get up here!’ I command, and the others grab hold, Finlyr wrestling Biba from Adarna’s loosening grip. Remnants of us atrophying from the outside in. The song has stopped finally, and I just have to hope the effects will reverse quicker than it can kill us. We pull them bodily onto the bird in a graceless tussle fought by sheer will.
‘Punch a hole to the sky,’ I command it.
Adarna sways its head to and fro, trying to resist. It flies around the cavern, smashing into rocks, sending its past victims toppling one after another. Soon there is nothing but fragments and dust clouds.
‘No!’ I hear Ris screaming beside me.
