Free Conservation of Shadows by Yoon Ha Lee Page A

Sakera had said.
    Numbers came after letters. This time the numerals looked more similar to those he already knew, and the lessons went more quickly.
    Sakera was in the middle of teaching him yush, one hundred, when the ambush came. Their days of training in the hinterlands had made them careless. The rimlands had never been friendly to human existence. Under the sorcerer’s reign, they had become less so. The sorcerer might have built edifices of slate and dark marble and delicate bone, but each year fewer and fewer people were willing to dwell under the banner of the vulture. So it was that Tamim and Sakera had not run into travelers or traders. Thanks to the giants’ conspicuousness, they had also gotten into the habit of avoiding villages.
    Tamim was watching Sakera’s hand draw the numeral in the dirt when she made a fist. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
    “Run!” she said in a low, fierce whisper. Her hands went through a sequence of motions punctuated by pauses, like a language in itself. The ground thundered as her giant hauled itself out of the nearby copse of trees and walked toward her. The trees’ limbs knotted themselves around the giant’s arm. It pulled free. Hand-shaped leaves flew everywhere, writhing and clutching at the air. The giant crouched down so Sakera could vault up to its rib cage. She climbed until she reached the safety of its skull, then guided it back toward Tamim.
    Tamim had Ifayad pick him up and place him in its eye socket. His stomach lurched as he climbed down, into the harness. He hated the moments of absolute helplessness as he secured himself. He could practically hear his heartbeat echoing in the skull.
    Through Ifayad’s open maw, he could see the vultures’ red banner. There were six vultures: two necromancers in their black robes and four grey-fleshed ghouls in dull armor. The necromancers gaped at the moving giants. Even with its massive limbs, Sakera’s was faster than the ghouls, although Tamim was far from reaching her level of control.
    Sakera’s giant loomed over the vultures and swept the banner to the ground, crushing it under one foot. Then it stopped. Tamim guessed that her hand tremor had started up again. The necromancers scrambled out of the way, out of his field of vision, shouting orders.
    The ghouls were armed with repeating crossbows. Tamim heard an initial burst of bolts clattering against Sakera’s giant, and cursed all the small gods of the rimlands. He got Ifayad moving. A sweep of its forearm knocked two ghouls to the ground. One ghoul leapt for Ifayad’s hand and clung to a finger. He heard it laughing creakily. Tamim pivoted Ifayad and smashed the ghoul against a tree. Its arm separated from its body and the ribcage collapsed.
    Tamim lifted Ifayad’s arm. It probably looked ridiculous from the outside, but he had to see—there it was: the ghoul’s severed arm was climbing toward Tamim. He didn’t fancy the thought of struggling with it while trying to control Ifayad.
    He tried for a tense minute to use the giant’s fingers to pry the severed hand off and fling it away before he realized he knew no commands that would accomplish that end.
    Cursing, he raised Ifayad’s arm to bring the target closer and put the giant in a stable stance. Then he unknotted himself from the harness and reached for his gun. Five bullets left.
    The ghoul’s hand continued its relentless climb.
    He crouched against the base of Ifayad’s jaw. It was lucky for him that the giant’s teeth, besides being chipped, had irregular alignment.
    He aimed through the gap between two teeth. Fired. The ghoul’s hand was blown backwards and landed on the ground, twitching, before righting itself.
    Four bullets.
    However feebly, the hand was scrabbling toward him. But at least it wasn’t on Ifayad.
    Sakera had gotten her giant to respond again. In a display of entirely characteristic ferocity, it intercepted one of the necromancers and stomped. The sound of crunching bone was