The Fate of the Tala
Page 13
Because they seemed to expect me to reply—and I only knew bits and pieces I’d heard—I looked to Rayfe. He seemed consumed in sullen thought, not even glancing up.
Fortunately, Zynda spoke. “It’s important to remember that the Tala are descendants of n’Andana, and that the practitioners of Deyrr are likely a remnant of a civilization that included both Dasnaria and n’Andana. There are those in Annfwn—shamans and some wizards—who practice degrees of blood magic.”
“It’s frowned upon,” Rayfe said, giving her a dark look from under his brows.
“Though not against Tala law,” she answered coolly. “And not without its place. It could be important, Dafne,” she added. “I’ll ask Shaman what he knows about Salena’s training.”
“I don’t like that guy,” Zyr muttered.
“For good reason,” Marskal said, nodding in curt agreement.
Zynda rolled her eyes at both of them. “You two don’t need to talk to him then.” She smiled thinly. “You, of course, will be part of this conversation,” she added to me privately.
“The other thing I’m wondering,” Dafne said slowly, tapping her quill and sliding a cautious look to me, “is if the practitioners of Deyrr can learn this blood magic—and are using it against us—and if Salena learned this same magic, and if Andi’s sorcery is inherited from the same bloodline—Andi, can you do these same things?” Her wise eyes held regret for the question, but also challenge.
It seemed so long ago that she’d first given me that look, back in the converted cellar rooms of the library at Ordnung, when Dafne had been the one to put the books in my hands—after making me don gloves so I wouldn’t mar the pages—that explained my mother’s strange nature and my own heritage. As I gazed back at her, I realized she knew the answer to her question—and that she’d posed it here, before everyone, to force me into the open.
I sighed out a breath. “Well, what I have—”
“No,” Rayfe interrupted. “And there are good reasons for it.”
Dafne tilted her head in curiosity. “Thank you, King Rayfe.” She returned her gaze to me. “Andi?”
I nearly winced at her deliberate dismissal of Rayfe’s terse reply, but I schooled my expression. “I have been careful to stay away from blood magic, it’s true.”
“But if we need to fight fire with fire?” Ursula asked, keen gaze going between Dafne and me.
“That would be a good reason for me to try,” I conceded.
“Except that you don’t know what you’re doing,” Rayfe slammed a hand on the table. “And these are potent, ancient magics that have destroyed better magic wielders than you.”
I swallowed hard, clinging to my composure. I would not engage with him in front of everyone. “And those are good reasons for me not to try,” I agreed evenly.
Rayfe turned on me with a snarl. “You cannot jeopardize yourself, Andromeda. In your condition, you—”
“Are not having this conversation now,” I interrupted firmly. I held his furious blue gaze until he jerked it away, then nodded to Dafne. “Point taken, Dafne. I think you can continue.”
“All right, then. Moving to allies within the Dasnarian Imperial Palace,” Dafne said without missing a beat, and sliding a second document to the top, “we have Inga, Helva, and Akamai. We consider them primarily spies and friends, however, with no forces to command. I’d like to send a message to Akamai as a test, however, to verify that he hasn’t been compromised.”
“How will you do that?” Ursula wanted to know.
“I’ll write to him in a code we established,” Dafne replied mildly, then continued when Ursula nodded. “Moving outward, for allied leaders we have Nakoa and myself in Nahanau, Rayfe and Andi in Annfwn, Ash and Ami in Windroven—”
“Ash and Ami, and the kids, will remain in Annfwn for the foreseeable future,” I corrected. No one argued, and Dafne made a note.
“Ursula is commander in chief, aided by Harlan, who captains the Hawks and remaining Vervaldr,” she continued. “Kiraka wishes to be listed as leader of dragons, with Zynda and Djakos as her lieutenants.”
She looked to Zynda for approval, who rolled her eyes, but nodded.
“With your permission, Captain,” Marskal inclined his head to Harlan, “I’m with Zynda.”
“We’ll miss you, but I understand. You two make a good team,” Harlan said.
“All right,” Ursula said. “Marskal goes with Zynda under Kiraka.”
“Which means I should be with Djakos,” Ash put in. “I need to be useful,” he said when Ami opened her mouth to protest. “I owe it to all the part-bloods I’ve failed. And Djakos and I have been training together.”
Ursula waited, but Ami pressed her lips together, sitting back in her chair. Dafne made a note, then scanned the document. “Rayfe is, of course, commander of the Tala fighting forces, and Karyn and Zyr will lead the non-dragon shapeshifter fighting pairs under Rayfe’s direction. Andi will handle the barrier, all prognostication, and battle Deyrr’s sorcery.” She gave me a rueful look and I smiled reassuringly. It wasn’t as if anyone else could do those things. “Nakoa will command the Nahanaun fighting forces, and also contribute storm-brewing to aid in naval battles. I will continue to serve as the compiler of notes and communications.”
“All that remains,” she finished, ticking a point on her list, “is Kral. Jepp is obviously grouped with him on the Hákyrling, rather than with the Hawks. I have him on the list of leaders on our side, as Ursula appointed him general of our forces in the field, but it’s possible that he’ll change allegiance to Hulda in order to unseat Hestar.”
“Excuse me,” Karyn said. “I stayed quiet before, when you described the vision of Inga and Helva, who I should mention I know quite well. I feel I must speak on General—on Kral’s behalf. I truly believe he will not answer Hulda’s summons. I can also say that Hulda was my mother-in-law for many years. She is… not a kind woman. Now that he’s free of her influence, Kral will not be eager to return to it.”
Harlan nodded. “I agree. Kral won’t go back. He made his choice, and he’s made vows.”
“He’s gone back on vows before,” Ursula reminded him, then gave Karyn a steely look. “As you should know better than most, having been wed to him and then forsaken. I’m surprised you defend him.”
Zyr shifted as if to protect Karyn, invisible plumage lifting, but she put a steadying hand on his arm, standing up to Ursula with calm courage. “I do know better than most, Your Majesty, and thus I know this: when Kral made the choice to rescue Jepp, he knowingly cut all ties with the Empire. He could have left her—and me—to face our fates, but he didn’t. He did not forsake me, but instead gave me a choice that most Dasnarian men would never have the open-mindedness to consider, much less offer. I have no doubt that Hulda’s message will come as a shock to him, and that he’ll pitch it into the sea.”
“Hmm.” Ursula looked unconvinced and Harlan tapped her arm to get her attention.
“I know that what I told you of the past is coloring your judgment in this,” he said gravely. “I’m asking you to set that aside.”
“He’s at our front line. If the Dasnarian navy crosses the barrier and he betrays us, that could be our destruction.” Ursula’s words dropped heavy among us.
“He won’t,” Harlan said, and Karyn nodded.
“All right, I’ll trust in you two.” Ursula clearly didn’t like it, but she conceded—something else she’d have been far too hardheaded to do even a year before. “If we’re done with the list of allies, then—”
“I have something to add,” Ami declared. “We need to list Glorianna, Danu, and Moranu on our side.”
Ursula made a face. “We are not counting on the goddesses as our allies.”
“We put the demigod Deyrr on their list,” she pointed out.
“Because Karyn saw a statue come to life as an incarnation of it,” Ursula argued. “It might not even be a deity, but it definitely exists. Who knows—it might be some kind of an
cient magical creature.”
“The high priestess implied that the palace she occupies in n’Andana belonged to Moranu,” Karyn put in. “She also claimed that Moranu was a Dasnarian woman, and an acolyte of Deyrr. That She created shapeshifters by forcing enslaved humans to mate with animals, and that’s why shapeshifters have a First Form—from that initial mating.”
“If that’s true,” Zyr said with a lightness that didn’t match the set of his face, “I pity my ancestor who mated with a gríobhth. Ouch.”
“It’s not true,” Rayfe grated out. “That’s just one more of her stinking lies.”
Dafne met my eyes and I subtly shook my head. She’d found documents that partially bore out the high priestess’s claim, but it didn’t matter for this conversation.
“Regardless,” I said, “the goddesses as we understand Them are ineffable. We can’t count on deities as allies.”
“You always say that Moranu is behind your visions,” Ami said, and Ursula tipped her head at the point.
“When I say that, it doesn’t mean I think—” I began.
“Moranu spoke to me when I died,” Zynda interrupted in a firm tone, uncharacteristically serious. “I don’t care if She started out life as a Dasnarian sorceress, She absolutely intervened, and She gave me my life and body back—entirely because I had a role in this conflict. I agree with Cousin Ami.”
“Besides,” Ami said, smiling sweetly, “I don’t know if anyone noticed, but I wasn’t assigned a responsibility on Dafne’s very thorough list. As I’d like to be something more than decorative, I’ll be the divine liaison.”
“Liaison to deities,” Ash corrected. “Not a liaison who is, herself, divine.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” Ami retorted loftily.
“What, exactly, would this job entail?” Ursula asked with some bemusement.
“I’ll watch for signs from the Three, interpret them, and pass that information along to the compiler of notes and communications,” Ami replied in a defiant tone. When Ursula opened her mouth, Ami pounced. “Tell you what, Essla—if you find that my doing this is taking away from my crucial being-decorative duties, I’ll immediately switch tasks.”
I could see Ursula badly wanted to say something, but after a moment longer, she shrugged fatalistically.
“Glorianna, Moranu, and Danu go on the list of allies. I can only hope Danu will guide me truly. Anything else? Please say no.” She looked around the table, giving it a moment longer. “All right, given this list, what actions do we want to take?”
Everyone looked at me expectantly.
Rayfe made an irritated sound and, for the first time in several days, I felt in absolute agreement with him. “I can’t tell you what to do,” I said, my voice rising defensively. “Even I can’t—”
“I know. We know,” Ursula said, holding up a hand as if to pacify the group, though no one had disagreed. “Let me start over. The last time we gathered to discuss our strategy in this war, Kral suggested that we consider attacking, rather than waiting to be attacked.”
“And yet that hasn’t happened,” Rayfe said. “Why not?”
Ursula grimaced. “This is on me, I know. One answer is that it’s taken time to gather and move our forces into position, shore up physical defenses as best we can, stockpile food and weapons, and plan for supply chains—and we’ve done all that. We’re as ready as we can be.” Still…” She stroked a finger over the talon scar high on her cheek, looked around the table.
“Still you hesitate,” Rayfe filled in. “Could it be that you’re afraid?”
I tensed, not at all sure what I’d do if the pair of them came to blows, but Ursula kept eerily calm. She even dipped her chin at Rayfe.
“To be perfectly candid? Yes. I agreed to that plan, I know, but I’m still not convinced. I’ve been over and over it in my mind and I can’t see how attacking n’Andana would be anything but suicide. I’m open to counterarguments.”
Everyone assimilated that. I kept my expression neutral, making sure I didn’t nod. I needed to be very careful not to push this decision one way or the other.
“We are strongest on our own territory,” Rayfe declared.
Ursula regarded him thoughtfully. “Maybe yes, maybe no. If we wait for the war to come to us, it’s our lands that will be devastated, our people who will suffer, warriors or not. Annfwn has a history of insularity, of hunkering down behind the barrier and depending on being forgotten for protection. That’s a luxury you no longer have.”
“Which side are you arguing for?” he bit out, losing his indolent posture and coiling like a snake.
“The side where we win,” she snapped back.
“We should consider,” Zyr said, “that regardless of strategy, attacking at least the high priestess’s fortification in n’Andana would be the right thing to do. To free the people she’s enslaved,” he added, seeming to think the reason we all stared at him was because we didn’t understand. “They are our kin, however far removed, and we owe them that. Some of them”—he nodded to Ash—“might be the people you sought and lost. Is this such a bizarre reason to act?”
Karyn patted his arm. “They’re just surprised by your sudden altruism.”
He made a face at her, but his eyes glittered with the gríobhth’s ferocity when he looked at us. “They are our children. They kept me in a cage. There are others—human minds trapped in enslaved animal bodies—still in cages and chains. Yes, I absolutely volunteer to go on this mission, King Rayfe, Queen Andromeda.” His rare use of our titles sealed his sincerity, and even Rayfe gave him a solemn nod.
“There’s a second potential front for attack,” Dafne put in after a beat of silence, “which would of course be the Dasnarian navy amassing at the barrier.”
“Three,” Ursula corrected. “There is also Dasnaria itself. The capital is Jofarrstyr, or there’s the Imperial Palace inland.”
An uneasy silence fell as everyone digested that startling suggestion, the only sound the scratch of Dafne’s quill as she wrote that down.
“The Imperial Palace is an impregnable fortress, according to Jepp’s reconnaissance,” Marskal said in his quiet, unhurried way. “It’s some distance from the city, set in a deep lake, which is in turn surrounded by a cleared area inside a dense forest. There are multiple lines of defense and it’s impossible to approach undetected. The palace itself can be entered only via a long bridge with multiple guard stations and checks.”
“There’s the air,” Zynda replied, with an unsettling edge to her smile. “Dragons don’t require stealth. And dragon fire can repel many guards at once.”
Marskal tipped his head at her point.
“The lake is cold and deep,” Karyn observed, “but shapeshifters in aquatic form could swim in.”
“I’m not sending my people to Dasnaria,” Rayfe cut in decisively. “No discussion.”
“Would you forbid us?” Zynda asked softly, a light of restless rebellion in her eyes.
I stepped in before Rayfe could reply. “We haven’t settled on a course of action. Let’s not debate disposition of personnel for something we may not do.”
Rayfe flashed me a hot, unsettling glance, but subsided.
“Jofarrstyr would be the more logical target,” Marskal continued, as if no one had interrupted his report. “It is a harbor city, heavily populated, expansive, and much less defensible. It is also where the Temple of Deyrr itself resides.”
“A large city like that would be full of innocent people,” Ami said.
“N’Andana was also full of innocent people,” Zyr answered. “Now they’re all converts to Deyrr’s mind control.”
“The Nahanaun Archipelago is home to hundreds of thousands of innocents,” Nakoa said in his deep, smooth voice, surprising several people who’d grown used to his taciturn silences. He cradled the sleeping Salena in the crook of one muscular bare arm, managing to look all the more masculine for it. “I would sacrifice the Dasnarian innocents before my own.”
“Except the Deyrr creatures don’t die,” Marskal reminded us.
“Maybe they’ll die when the high priestess does,” Ash offered.
“No.” Karyn spoke with firm conviction. “I’ve been there, and I’ve felt her control.” She rubbed light fingers over the ink-black tattoo ringing her upper arm. I’d cleansed her of Deyrr’s taint, but the mark remained as a permanent reminder in her skin. Then she met my gaze. “Andi knows. The creatures are connected to the god, not her.”
“I’m afraid Karyn is correct,” I said. “Even if we find a way to kill the high priestess and her minions, we risk having their undead creatures plaguing us until we eliminate them, one by one.” And even then their souls would still belong to Deyrr. “While I understand Zyr’s desire to liberate those enslaved beings, it’s entirely likely that—no matter the outcome—those people are lost forever.”
“Unless there’s a way to undo the blood magic,” Dafne pointed out remorselessly, no apology in the gaze she rested on me.
“Again with that?” Rayfe snarled. “That’s a dead end. We all know Andromeda can’t come close to the high priestess’s level of power and expertise.”
The words echoed in my mind. I’d heard them before, in almost that exact phrasing. Under the guise of soothing Rayfe, I put a hand on his arm.
“Something to consider,” I agreed, “for after the war, not as a point of strategy. We can’t make decisions based on that possibility.” As I spoke, working subtly, I did to him what I’d never done before, not without permission, not outside the intimacy of sex. I began working silver threads of thought into his mind, so slim he shouldn’t feel it.