Nemesis

by Kat Ross

  She stripped off her dirty clothes and sank into the tub with a sigh. Darius sat on a stool behind her and soaped her hair, then began teasing out the tangles with a comb he’d found on the vanity table.

  “Do you think it’s safe to leave the Vatra with Rhea and Megaera?” she asked.

  Darius considered this. “He can’t harm them with fire. They’d raise the alarm if he tried anything else.”

  “Why did he wait for us? He could have fled.”

  Darius didn’t reply. She sensed he felt a twinge of regret for his behavior. Or perhaps it was simply for losing control.

  “I suppose we should be thankful. Meb is safe, and so are Katrin and Galen. The Pythia is dead. Thena is dead.”

  “And yet?”

  She sighed. “You were right. It’s not over, Darius. I can feel it in my bones.”

  “I feel the same,” he said quietly.

  “I keep thinking about Farrumohr. It can’t be a coincidence that he’s haunted Culach’s dreams. There’s a connection somewhere and I think it lies in the Kiln.”

  “With Gaius?”

  “Perhaps.”

  Darius’s fingers tensed in her hair. He stopped combing. “You want to hunt him down.”

  “What if that’s why I have this breaking power?”

  “Herodotus says you were meant to shatter the wards of the talismans.”

  “But what if there’s more to it?”

  “Are you certain it’s not simple revenge you seek?”

  “No,” she admitted. “I’m not. But perfectly pure motives are a rare thing. I’m not sure they even exist.”

  Darius gave a low laugh. “That’s true enough.” He laid the comb aside and began to massage her shoulder. Nazafareen sighed.

  “Do you think the old me would have done the same?” she asked, her eyes slipping closed. “Or was I more sensible?”

  Darius laughed. “That is not the word I would choose to describe you.” His thumb pressed into the hollow beneath her skull. “But you were always truthful, even if it cost you dearly. You were unfailingly brave. And you hated bullies more than anything in the world.”

  Nazafareen grinned. “I’m ashamed to admit I became a skilled liar during my time with Javid. As for brave, I only do what I must to survive.” Her expression darkened. “But I do bloody hate bullies, and Gaius is exactly that.”

  Darius worked on her sore muscles, eliciting small sounds of delight. She could hear the Maenads singing faintly through the walls. I’d wager my sword they’ve gotten into the wine, Nazafareen thought fondly.

  “The only way into the Kiln is through the Gale,” Darius said at last. “You don’t intend to bring it down, I hope?” The words were spoken lightly, but she heard an edge to them.

  “No. Of course not.” She twisted around to look at him. “But Nicodemus came through another way.”

  “And you wish to discover what it is?”

  She nodded. “What do you think?”

  His blue eyes grew cold. “If there is indeed a way, I say we go. If we don’t bring the fight to the Kiln, finish it there, we might end up facing the Vatras in the human cities and the darklands. Just like last time.”

  Darius took risks, but he was never reckless. She knew how badly he wanted to avenge his mother. She did too, but it was more than that. The breaking power was a gift she’d never asked for. But how she chose to use it—that was her purpose. Gaius was a malignancy. Perhaps he did have some secret communion with the Viper, but she’d defeated Farrumohr once before. This time she’d make sure he stayed dead.

  But she didn’t wish to think of those things right now. Nazafareen touched Darius’s jaw, which was still swollen.

  “This may the last time we have alone together,” she murmured, sliding the cuff off and setting it on the floor. Their bond remained, but metal would hurt him if he touched it.

  He gave a small smile. “Are you asking me to join you?”

  “I’ll wash your hair. I might even give you a shave if you’re nice.”

  He looked at her for a long moment, lazy but calculating. Then he pulled the shirt over his head, kicked his pants off and slid into the tub, sloshing water over the sides. Besides the infirmity caused by the bond, bruises and scrapes stood out lividly against his night-pale skin. Being thrown from the back of an abbadax had left Nazafareen in similar shape. She moved gingerly to lie against his chest, slipping her fingers into his damp hair as he kissed her neck, his own hands moving under the water.

  “Oh yes…Ow….No, it’s all right….Yes….”

  They were forced to go slowly, gasps of pleasure alternating with gasps of pain and breathless laughter, and when Darius finally cried out, muffling it against her shoulder, she no longer knew where one ended and the other began. She felt his release through the bond and it pushed her over the edge. Her teeth sank into the salt sweat of his neck, not quite breaking the skin, and she clamped tight around him.

  As the euphoria wore off, though, Nazafareen’s practical side felt a twinge of anxiety. It was a topic she should have raised before.

  “I could get pregnant, you know,” she said, sitting up to face him.

  “I’ve been told where babies come from,” Darius replied dryly.

  “You know what I mean.”

  He shrugged. “If it’s a girl, we can name her Delilah.”

  “But what would I do with a baby?” She frowned. “And what if it’s a Breaker?”

  “Then you can teach her to harness her power.”

  Nazafareen fell silent. The idea of Darius’s children made her happy and afraid at the same time. What if she was a terrible mother? She had no patience and spent half her time daydreaming about killing people.

  “I’m going to ask Rhea and Megaera what they do,” she said diplomatically. “I have a feeling they would know how to….”

  “Prevent pregnancy?” He traced his lips along the edge of her ear. “We will have children when you wish, Nazafareen. And I won’t leave all the burden to you, I promise.” He grinned. “Just don’t refuse to touch me again out of caution. That I could not bear.”

  She looked at his intelligent, teasing blue eyes, his mouth made for kisses and laughter.

  “I couldn’t if I tried.” Nazafareen reached over the edge of the tub and found a wickedly sharp knife in his boot. “My toes are getting puckered. What do you say I give you that shave and then—”

  A fist pounded on the door. Her hand tightened around the knife.

  “What?” she called.

  “The Vatra,” Megaera growled. “He’s awake.”

  18

  An Uneasy Alliance

  Nicodemus sat trussed hand and foot in the corner of the kitchen. One eye was swollen shut and dried blood streaked his face. He looked up as Darius and Nazafareen entered, more wary than fearful. She’d have to do something about that.

  Kallisto was already there with Herodotus and Katrin, who watched him with a stony face.

  “You should have waited for me before getting so close to him,” Nazafareen admonished Katrin. “What if he’d worked fire against you?” She glanced at Megaera and Rhea. “It might not harm them, but you’d be ash in a matter of seconds.”

  “I said the same,” Kallisto muttered. “She wouldn’t listen, though Daníel had the sense to go tend to his abbadax.”

  Katrin arched a pale eyebrow. “I am the talisman.”

  “That doesn’t make you immortal,” Nazafareen snapped. “You would still reach for the flames like any other daeva and they would consume you.”

  “If I wanted to burn you all, I would have,” Nicodemus murmured from his corner.

  Nazafareen rounded on him, ice in her tone. “Try it, Vatra. Try it and see what happens to you. I would be happy to finish what I started in Tjanjin.” She was gratified to detect a flash of worry. “Now. I want to know how you escaped the Kiln and why the other Vatras haven’t done the same.”

  He shifted, drawing his knees to his chest. “Can I have some
water?”

  She nodded at Rhea, who brought a cup and put it to his lips. He drank deeply and sighed.

  “I came through a gate. Domitia and I managed to revive one with our own blood, but it wasn’t stable. It closed again after a few seconds. Our companions were killed.”

  Nazafareen remembered the gate to the Kiln she’d stumbled on with Javid. It had nearly trapped them like flies in amber.

  She gave him a hard stare.

  “Are there any other gates leading into the Kiln?”

  “There were, once. Now they’re lost to the sands.”

  “You spoke of Domitia. Is that the Pythia’s name?”

  He nodded. “She saved my life more than once, and my brother’s. I couldn’t let her unleash Gaius on the world, but I allowed Basileus to take her body to be buried with the other Oracles. I felt duty-bound to allow her a final honor.”

  “Honor?” Nazafareen spat. “The woman had no honor.”

  “Not according to your standards. Domitia lived by the code of the Kiln. All she knew came from her father, Gaius.” Dark blue eyes regarded her with a trace of contempt. “Go to Delphi if you want to abuse her corpse.”

  Darius took a step forward and Nicodemus flinched.

  “What about Thena?” he demanded. “Tell me how she died.”

  “She was not the loyal servant she pretended to be. After what happened with the Danai…. I had to do something. Basileus and I made a plan, and Thena agreed to help us. I gave her a talisman to use against Domitia, but she failed. Domitia burned her. So I took matters into my own hands.” His voice grew low and urgent. “You must believe me, I tried to stop her. I didn’t know what she planned.”

  Nazafareen tried to reconcile this new Nicodemus with the one who’d kidnapped Meb. It didn’t add up. “What do you want?” she asked coldly.

  He held her gaze. “Basileus told me there are reliable reports of wind ships crossing the Gale south of here. It must be the Persians.”

  She frowned. “Why would they do that?”

  “I don’t know. But since the new king took the throne in Samarqand, the sightings have multiplied. He’s said to have strange powers. It won’t be long before Gaius learns about it, if he hasn’t already.”

  Nazafareen turned to Herodotus. “Could such a thing be possible?”

  The scholar considered her question. “The Persian alchemists are adept at using spell dust. I suppose it might be accomplished, but it would require a great deal of skill and nerves of steel.”

  “It’s the sort of thing I could almost see Javid trying, that great oaf,” she muttered. “Though even he can’t be that stupid.” She studied the Vatra with quiet anger. “A week ago, you were trying to drag Meb through a gate to force her to break the Gale.” She held up the eel knife. The Vatra eyed it warily. “And what about this? You stole it from Sakhet-ra-Katme after you burned her.”

  He bristled. “I didn’t kill her! She drank poisoned chai.”

  Nazafareen crouched down, the knife in her hand. Nicodemus leaned back.

  “We both know you’re a murderer, so don’t bandy words with me. Why did you unlock Galen’s collar? After all the other foul deeds you’ve committed? Why let him go?”

  This was the part that made no sense, no matter how she chewed on it. What could he gain by freeing one of the talismans?

  Nicodemus looked away, raw emotion in his voice. “I never wanted Gaius to be freed. I only want my brother. I had to leave him behind when Domitia and I left the Kiln.”

  “He’s a fucking liar,” Katrin said in a low voice. Her green eyes grew cold as the night-shrouded mountains of Nocturne. “Let me have him alone for a while. I’ll get the truth out of him.”

  Nicodemus looked back at her with a challenge in his gaze.

  “I’m not afraid of you, Valkirin. You have no idea what true pain is.”

  Katrin gave an evil laugh. “Perhaps not, but I’m willing to learn. Shall we find out together?”

  He opened his mouth to reply when Herodotus stepped between them, a scowl on his face.

  “I will not condone torture,” he said sternly. “Not even of a Vatra. Fortunately, there are other methods.” He glowered down at Nicodemus. “You will answer these questions again, this time while you’re holding Kallisto’s staff. It compels truth.”

  Nazafareen felt a fool. The staff. She really did need to get some sleep.

  The Maenad nodded her approval, gesturing to Megaera to loosen his bonds, though her sharp black eyes watched the prisoner like a bird of prey. Nicodemus took the staff without hesitation. When his hand closed around the haft, he closed his eyes, brows quirking in concentration.

  “Yes,” he murmured. “I see how it was done. Fascinating.”

  Herodotus tugged at his beard. He looked on the verge of peppering the Vatra with questions.

  “Get on with it,” Nazafareen snapped, before they embarked on a long exploration of the staff and how it worked.

  Nicodemus opened his eyes. His gaze was steady.

  “I despise Gaius with every fiber of my being. I wish him dead and painfully so. He is an evil man. Everything I have done, the crimes I have committed, are for the sake of my brother, Atticus. So that he has the chance to live without fear and want. To grow old and have children. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  Rain pattered on the roof. The staff lay quiet.

  “I will tell you about Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus. The things I have seen with my own eyes. The things I know to be true.” His knuckles whitened around the staff. “He has many wives. Any girl over the age of eleven is fair game. When he has used them up, when they have borne his children, he discards them. Some survive, most don’t. When he hunts, it’s not for food but for sport, to inflict pain on weaker things. He teaches that survival is the only worthwhile pursuit. Compassion, mercy, these are weaknesses. Anyone who defies him in any way, no matter how small, is driven out into the wilds, naked and without weapons. That’s if he doesn’t kill them himself.”

  Kallisto studied him, her face grave.

  “Do you truly believe Gaius will escape the Kiln?” she asked.

  Nicodemus held her gaze. “Yes. I do.”

  Again, the staff lay quiet. Whether it was true or not, he believed it. And that sent a stab of dread through Nazafareen’s gut.

  “It might not be for many years. Or it might be quite soon, if his scouts discover the wind ships. But he will, someday.” Nicodemus stared at Nazafareen. “I did.”

  Thunder clapped in the distance. Nazafareen felt the others watching her, though no one spoke.

  “You speak only of Gaius. What about the rest of the Vatras? Do they stand behind him?”

  “We’re a broken people. None of us even remember the war.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “There’s a cadre who call themselves the Praetorians, Gaius’s enforcers,” Nicodemus admitted. “But the rest of the Vatras are terrified of him. They aren’t bad people, just desperate to survive.”

  “And what of the Viper? What of Farrumohr?”

  She watched his hands, gripping the haft of Kallisto’s staff.

  “I’ve never heard that name.”

  “He cannot lie,” Kallisto murmured.

  “Who’s the Viper?” Nicodemus asked, glancing between them.

  “That’s what your own people called him. He was Gaius’s advisor. He’s supposed to be dead, but I have serious doubts.”

  Nicodemus considered this. “I know everyone. There aren’t many of us. Gaius is the only one still living who survived the exile. No one else is remotely as old.”

  “Would you know where to find him?”

  He nodded. “And I know the Kiln. I’ve ranged across most of it with….” He trailed off and she wondered if he was about to say with Domitia. “I’d willingly guide you through it.”

  “Why?” She stared at him. “Why would you go back to such a place?”

  A spark of fury lit his eyes. “Because I want Gaius
dead. Because he’s the reason for my people’s suffering.”

  Nazafareen rubbed her stump. “We still have to find a way in. I won’t break the Gale. That’s out of the question.”

  “I’m relieved to hear it,” Kallisto said dryly.

  “I suppose we could try a wind ship. That means traveling to Samarqand and convincing this new king to give us one, assuming he’s the one behind it.”

  Katrin pushed off the wall and walked forward, her green eyes inscrutable.

  “You’re going into the Kiln?” She jerked a thumb at Nicodemus. “With him?”

  Nazafareen held her gaze. “Maybe.”

  “You’re crazy.” Her face suddenly split into a grin.

  Nazafareen didn’t smile back. “It’s not a joke.”

  “I guess it’s not.” Katrin grew sober again. “What if we could pass through the Gale without disturbing the spell?”

  “Leave it intact, you mean?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How?”

  “Air shield. I can make a wedge. Pry it open long enough to get to the other side.”

  Kallisto laid a hand on Nazafareen’s arm. “May we speak in private?”

  She hesitated and Kallisto sighed. She seemed to be trying to rein in her temper. “Please.”

  So the two of them went to the courtyard and sat at one end of the long wooden table, leaving the others to watch Nicodemus. Nazafareen remembered the first time she had talked to Kallisto, at a kitchen table much like this one, the Maenads sparring in the yard outside. How long ago it seemed.

  “So you intend to hunt Gaius in the Kiln,” Kallisto said tartly. “You are a rash child—”

  Nazafareen opened her mouth with an angry retort, but Kallisto held up a hand.

  “A rash child, yet I am not here to speak against it. Not yet. It may be that you are right. But I have questions before you go haring off. I think this Vatra has told us the truth, but not all of it. How has Gaius survived so long when the others die like flies?”