“For I am Faoii. My tongue will never forget the words of truth, for when I speak, then will the Goddess hear, and I am only Faoii in Her presence.”
They need to hear the truth as it is meant to be told. They need to remember the voices that have been silenced.
“I am the Weaver of the Tapestry. I see the threads through all the world and guide them with the Goddess’s eye. Above all, we are Faoii.”
Yes, Lyn-Faoii. You understand. You have always understood. You cannot disappear into the night without one final strike. You cannot let these men tarnish the Tapestry without guiding its threads as they are meant to be guided. You must release one final cry in the darkness to tell those that have tried to break us that we will not fall silently.
“Our blades will sing with the voice of every throat that has cried out against injustice and dance with the steps of every innocent child. And we will lead the choir, and the voices of our sword will deafen the ears of our enemies.”
Why have you stayed all this time, Lyn-Faoii?
“For . . . I am Faoii.”
Jade smiled in the dark and nodded. “Yes, Lyn. We are Faoii.”
*~*
Two days later, I crawled back into the silence of the underground labyrinth with a smile that would have been frightening if anyone had been nearby to see. With a heart that was lighter than it had been in months, I hurried to the statue room. The other five stood at my approach.
“The dumb bastards have grown confident. They’re not patrolling the halls or posting guards anymore. I even checked the rat tunnels and the alcoves. The traps have been removed. They’re sure we’re dead.” Hastily, I drew a quick map of the monastery on the dirt floor. It was unnecessary. Everyone present had memorized every passage years before, but no one stopped me as the words continued to tumble out of my mouth in a rush.
“Everyone I saw was either wounded or drunk. There’s talk of pushing north to meet with the rest of the force that’s nearing the monasteries closer to the capital. But most of the men here aren’t strong enough to make it yet. The Croeli are spread thin. If we can wipe out this group, the opposing force will be even weaker. We just have to strike before they mobilize.”
Jade stacked her fists one on top of the other and met my gaze with sparkling eyes. “All right, Faoii-Lyn. How do we end this?” The others nodded, waiting for my answer.
Faoii-Lyn. They called me Faoii-Lyn. Smiling, I laid out my plans.
17
It was easier to sneak around the monastery when no one thought to look in the shadows, and the Croeli didn’t seem to miss the oil that disappeared from the pantry or the grease that vanished from the smithy as we prepared for our final assault.
It took two nights to douse the monastery, and every terrifying and nerve-wracking minute dragged by with an impossible sluggishness. But we got it done.
The night after we had finished, Jade and I sent the young ones through the collapsed wall to the orangery.
“If we are not there by dawn, start running. Keep the fire and smoke at your back, and go until you can’t go any farther. And remember always that you are Faoii.” The girls clasped hands over invisible hilts in acknowledgment and turned toward the passage that led to the dry riverbed. Only Mei broke formation long enough to wrap her arms around my waist. I tried not to let her see the tears in my eyes as I hugged her back.
“I love you, Lyn.”
“I love you too, Mei. You have always made me proud.” Then Mei disappeared into the darkness of the maze.
“You will see her again, Lyn.” Jade spoke quietly as we turned toward the chapel entrance. I smiled and blinked the tears from my eyes.
“We both will. When this is over, we’re going to watch her dance.”
*~*
That monastery lit like a candle. Jade and I had painstakingly blocked the exits leading from the monastery. We set fire to the main corridors first. Then, scampering through the ceiling like rats on a sinking ship, we systematically boxed the Croeli in with traps and flame. The Croeli’s surprised cries echoed through the smoke-filled corridors, and my heart soared.
When we had at last finished the grisly deed, Jade and I worked our way back toward the chapel. We’d left one door untouched, but we were smart enough to block the corridor leading up to it. We would have to crawl through the smoke-filled rafters to reach it, but I knew we could make it there, even in the dark. Our hidden passages would have to save our lives one more time.
I wish I’d foreseen more. I wish I’d known that one horrified and brutish Croeli had broken through the barricaded corridor and ran, burnt and screaming, toward the refuge of the outside world. Strips of charred, melted skin must have clung to his cheekbones as he drunkenly wove his way toward the unbarred door that would exit near the chapel.
I heard the screams before reaching the trapdoor that led down into the corridor, but the smoke had grown too thick, and it distorted the echoes that carried throughout the flaming struc- ture. Between our strangled coughing and the distorted screams of men further inside the building, it didn’t occur to me to try and peer through the inky blackness of night and smoke to see if one dying man might be below. Why would it? How could I know that someone would make it that far?
Everything would’ve been different if I had only looked.
When my boots struck the heated metal of the warrior’s charred pauldrons as I dropped from the ceiling, I couldn’t help but cry out in surprise. My yell was nothing compared to the pain-filled, terrorized scream of the man beneath me, though, and his fear must have been double mine. It gave me enough time roll away, but both of our training kicked in immediately.
You have to give the Croeli one thing—they’re quick on their feet. I rolled away from that beast with an agile grace at the same moment that Jade leapt down to assist me. She must have heard my cry. She must have been afraid when she couldn’t see me. She must not have thought—only acted. She wanted to save me. And the Croeli, despite his injuries, had been well trained. His criukli whipped forward almost instantly.
I still remember how Jade’s blood sizzled as it sprayed onto his heated breastplate.
Two edged disks sprouted from the man’s throat, and only one was mine. Eternal Blade, Jade made a hell of a Faoii, even when she was hurt. The Croeli’s death cry came out only as a wet gurgle when he collapsed onto the heated flagstones of the corridor.
I didn’t stop to gather our weapons. I just took Jade in my arms and shouldered my way through the door.
The cool night air was like the breath of a Goddess song against my face when we got out of the burning monastery. I hugged Jade close to my chest and turned toward the chapel, casting a glance at the stars as I moved. It took me way too long to realize that they were dimmed by tears rather than smoke. But I kept my eyes focused upward as I staggered toward the chapel, afraid and unwilling to look down at the heavy burden in my arms. Jade’s leg was a fleshy mound of blood and flayed skin, and my knees were weak with even the muted pain that rode the silver cord between us.
“You can leave me, Faoii-Lyn.” Jade whispered into the crook of my neck between pained gasps. I ignored her and kept going, refusing to hear. But she just kept whispering. “Get to the girls. Get somewhere safe. The Goddess will watch over you. And . . .” She paused, wheezing in my arms. “Know that I will always love you.”
Get to the girls.
Get somewhere safe.
The Goddess will watch over you.
I will always love you.
Go . . .
I love you . . .
Those words repeated themselves over and over again in my ear. Weak, but persistent. Again and again, Jade whispered her swan song as I made my way to the chapel.
It was only when I arrived at Illindria’s statue that I realized that Jade was gone and the voice I was hearing was my own quiet whispers into a night that never responded.
*~*
I left Jade there, at the Goddess’s bare feet. Carefully, as one puts a
baby in a crib, I offered Jade to the Eternal One’s everlasting embrace. When I knelt for one final prayer, the pain from Jade’s criukli wound had already faded, and the silver ribbon had left a gaping, savage wound in my heart that was so, so much worse.
The prayer was short but powerful. Not that it mattered. All the prayers and tears in the world could never ease that cavernous wound left in my soul. When I rose again, I lifted my eyes to the Goddess’s face—angry, hurt, and scared. I wanted answers. I wanted some sort of hope. Jade would have known what to say, what to look for.
My gaze fell on the fantoii in the War Watcher’s hand.
*~*
“I didn’t even think about it. I just snapped the Goddess’s hand off and took it with me. The fingers had crumbled away before I found the urchins in the orangery, and the look of pride in their eyes when they saw it belted at my waist . . .” Lyn paused, and Kaiya was surprised to hear her chuckle. “I’ve never even used the bloody thing. But it’s a symbol. And with it in hand, I’ve made more out of these crumbling walls than I think anyone ever expected from me.” She sighed, looking down at the fantoii for a long minute.
“It’s a symbol I’ve carried all this time, all this way. Mimi and Kiki asked to kiss it before they stepped onto the ship that took them away from here, and I let them do it. I’ve held this symbol high for years now, proud of it and all it represents. And I’m not even supposed to have it.” She looked down at her hands for a moment, quietly contemplating. Kaiya thought that the younger girl was going to remain silent, her story concluded, but Lyn finally whispered, “She was supposed to be Preoii. I think I knew it all along. I thought about telling her to start training under Preoii-Chin, but I knew that if she was Preoii instead of Cleroii, I would be assigned a different shield sister. I . . . I didn’t want to lose her.” Lyn fell silent, staring at the glittering sword. “Not that it mattered.”
Kaiya watched the tears fall from Lyn’s lowered eyes before she finally laid a dark hand on one shaking shoulder. Then, without preamble or thought to custom, Kaiya drew the grieving Faoii into a warm and empathetic hug.
18
Kaiya watched Lyn subtly change as they returned to the chamber where the “urchins” danced.
Her eyes dried and her back straightened. By the time they arrived, there was no hint of the heartbroken girl that Kaiya had embraced only a few minutes before.
It was an impressive show, but Kaiya knew what she had to do. After all that Lyn had been through, she deserved an ascension—a true ascension, and Kaiya was the only Faoii in a hundred leagues who could grant it to her.
This was not as simple a thing as it seemed. Kaiya had never had a true ascension ceremony, had never heard the words except for those spoken in her own dark memories. Reaching back, she remembered what Preoii-Aleena had said, the distant whisper snaking through the buried thoughts of her broken home. Slowly, a calm filled Kaiya, and the busy room seemed somehow hushed.
Kaiya stopped, grasping Lyn’s elbow with a steady hand. Lyn turned toward her, annoyance streaking her face, but when the young woman’s dark eyes met with Kaiya’s pale ones, there was a recognition and serenity that Kaiya doubted the other had felt since her experience in the now-abandoned chapel. Kaiya smiled.
“I recognize what you have been through, Faoii. And while you stand strong and fearless before those that follow you, I know the dread in your heart. Do not fear, Faoii, for as long as your blade still sings, there will be justice. You must tell the world what has happened to our people and to be wary of the god that is trying to take hold of our lands. You must protect them as you have protected those you love, both here and in the ruins that have since fallen. You are strong, Faoii. I, and the Goddess, have faith in you.” Kaiya placed Lyn’s hand on her fantoii’s hilt. “Take your sword, Lyn-Faoii. And with it, take your place as Faoii-Lyn.”
Faoii-Lyn drew her sword, and for the first time, the blade sang. Its cry was that of angels, crystalline and perfect. All movement in the room stopped, and the song expanded outward like water spilling over the rim of a pitcher. The walls reverberated with its melody. Kaiya’s heart rose and clenched with the sound.
She wanted to weep. This is what ascension is.
Moments passed before the note finally faded. Released of its spell, Kaiya and Lyn found themselves able to move and turned to discover an entire room of eyes set on them. The reverence they saw there was almost overwhelming. “Thank you,” Lyn whispered. “Thank you.” She took a moment to compose herself before speaking again, louder this time. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat.”
The shocked awe of the surrounding women dissipated quickly, and ladies rushed to set up several long tables. The benches on either side filled almost immediately, and Kaiya was surprised to find how many people were actually here. Several hundred women filled the hall and, if Lyn was to be believed, this was only a third of the full force that had come for training over the last two years. The women sat quickly, brushing shoulders with one another, but the head of the table remained unoccupied, and Lyn took her place with an air of pride and authority. A space was quickly made for Kaiya as well, and she sat, her shield resting at her feet.
Here, however, the hospitality of Lyn’s band ended. Emery stood awkwardly behind Kaiya’s chair, and Tendaji flashed an amused smile from where he leaned against the back wall. Kaiya glanced to Lyn. The vulnerable girl that had told her the sorrowful story was gone. Lyn, in front of the women gathered at the table, was an unbroken leader.
“I could order them to make a place for your…guests, Faoii-Kaiya. But that wouldn’t really make you look like a reckonable force, would it?” The whisper was soft but stern. “I assume that’s why you’re here. To band us together?”
“It is.” Kaiya frowned at the younger girl. Her face was completely expressionless. Was this some sort of test?
Lyn smiled. “Thought so. If you’ve got a plan, I’ll listen. But if you want to lead, you’d better start now. No use in us having a power struggle later if you can’t even get these girls to clear a place setting.” There was the faintest hint of pleasure in Lyn’s voice as she spoke. Kaiya set her jaw.
Damn if she wasn’t right, though. At the moment, Kaiya was an outsider. Despite offering ascension and proving to be at least equal to Lyn in the Faoii Order, the hierarchy of their faith meant nothing to the women gathered here. For all that Lyn had done, these women were not Faoii. The strongest person they’d ever seen was a teenage girl who secretly doubted her own ability. They needed to see the true power of a Faoii warrior—the true strength of will and blade. Only then would they willingly unite with the growing army that was training under Faoii-Eili.
Clenching her jaw, Faoii-Kaiya spoke in an iron voice, putting all the power of the Faoii into her words. “Clear a space for my companions.” The command rang across the hall, and all conver- sation stopped. A sea of eyes moved between her and Lyn, seeking guidance. The silky-haired Faoii only stared back, her face deliberately expressionless. Slowly, the eyes turned back to Kai. As the silence lengthened, Kaiya hardened her glare. “I will not issue a command twice.”
She did not even need to raise her voice this time. The room was so quiet and the words so laced with power a deaf person could have heard them. Another moment passed before a woman about halfway down the table rose to her feet.
“Faoii, we will not.” Kaiya was surprised at the strength of the woman’s voice, and more than a little perturbed at having her orders blatantly challenged. So much for an easy power shift.
Kaiya rose, planting both hands on the table as she locked eyes with the offender. The glare she shot across the table was filled with enough war magic to make a hunting dog falter. The other woman’s eyes shook in fear for a moment, but she steeled them quickly, again taking Kaiya by surprise. Other women began to rise as well, turning toward Kaiya with steely gazes. Their voices rose sharply against the silence.
“No man has ever sat at this table. And no man will unless Faoii-Lyn
demands it.”
“You’re lucky we let you sit among us at all, being untested.”
“You don’t look so big yourself. I bet we could teach you your place.”
“You say you’re Faoii. Let’s see you prove it.”
That broke the dam. Suddenly a dozen women rushed at Kaiya, filled with pride and the untested belief that they were warriors. Kaiya could almost hear Tendaji’s chuckling behind her, his previous words coming back to her. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Emery jerked behind Kaiya, but she had just enough time to throw him a warning glance. If she were to prove herself, she had to handle this alone. Emery backed up to stand next to Tendaji just as the first attacker reached Kai.
The Last Faoii Page 14