I glimpsed Moranu’s many faces again, the whirling mélange of animal and human forms, morphing out into plants, rocks, stars, and planets. Liquid to gas to solid to time to light to vacuum.
Change. The goddess showed me the concept as much as she spoke the word, and I comprehended in a way I never had before.
“But if Deyrr is part of you, is it true that Deyrr is your ancient nemesis?”
Yes. You should understand this, as you have been at war with yourself, Andromeda. All your life. You’ve been unwilling to truly embrace your gifts.
With Her voice flooding every aspect of my being, I could hardly ignore the truth of this. “I like to think of them as flaws I’m trying to excise.”
She laughed, the sound of a midnight river under moonlight. Were you anyone else, you might have that luxury. But you do not.
“Then I am bound by fate.”
The perversion of the cycle of life and death must be stopped. The imbalance grows and threatens to topple the universe into entropy and chaos. The tipping point is nigh. Call that fate if you like, but this is the time and you are the one.
“I don’t know how to stop them.”
So stubborn. It is your gift and your curse. The goddess sounded amused again. You know what to do. You simply resist the knowledge.
Hmph. In that case I was resisting it so well that I didn’t know what it was.
True.
Nothing like having a goddess possessing my mind to read even the thoughts I hadn’t articulated. It would be helpful if She would just come out and tell me what to do.
That presupposes that I know what you should do. If I could act for you, I would. I cannot. You must be the one to decide, to act.
“This isn’t at all how I thought receiving the word of the goddess would be.”
Again that amused compassion. No, it never seems to be.
“Any hints? I assume you’ve taken possession of my being for a reason.”
You were about to die. That would have been inconvenient timing.
So flattering.
Yes. Death is, of course, simply another change, but We need you alive in your current form. The timing has become critical. So I am here to encourage you to live.
“Great, so You can keep me from dying here and now?”
No. You must do it yourself. Use your gifts. They come from Me, and I wouldn’t give you anything you shouldn’t have.
“And the price?”
You already know that.
“I can’t give you my child! I won’t make that choice.”
Andromeda, My daughter. Your son is Mine, as you are Mine, as Stella is Mine. He will be born with the Mark. The choice was never yours to make. Or his.
“But what about the required sacrifice?”
Oh, child of Salena. You should know this: the sacrifice was made long before you were born.
Oh. Oh, I should have realized that. Salena had given everything so all of this could come to pass. “I understand now.”
Good. Now go.
Abruptly I was back in my drowning body.
And the knowledge was there—what I needed to do, what I could do, and had been practicing—as if Moranu had put it there for me to find. Or maybe, as She had said, I’d known it all along.
I reached past the octopus to the puppeteer, the cruel sweet-faced junior priestess, and slipped into her mind. It was brutally easy to follow the threads of involuntary control, the shapeshifter she’d forced into octopus form, murdered, and harnessed to Deyrr through her own will. It was an inherently corrupt connection, and I followed it straight to what remained of her humanity. A brief shock of surprise from her. And her will was my own.
Tucking her will in my pocket, I became a porpoise. The octopus followed along, belonging to me now, too. I swam faster, leaping out of the water and into the air, becoming the heron on the wing.
Vigor and health suffused me, and I felt better in that form than ever before. Never had I shifted so easily, or into a form with such perfect health. So this was how it was supposed to feel. Amazing how accepting yourself without fears or reservations could change everything.
I wheeled on wing tip, and winged at top speed back toward the white cliffs of Annfwn, like clouds on the horizon. We’d come far, indeed, and I cast my long sight about as I flew, finding the Deyrr flagship not far away at all.
I raced ahead of it, not in the least tired, and soon met my avian staymach guard who’d been struggling to follow after me. They swirled about me in a dance of greeting, shifting colors in ways decidedly unlike the animal forms they’d chosen to imitate. Seeing if I could, I reached for Rayfe’s mind. Perhaps my mindspeaking skills had also improved.
“Rayfe?”
“Andromeda!” He grasped my mind’s touch in a mental embrace, strong, warm, as if he’d never let me go. “Where are you?”
“Coming back.” I sent him a story bubble of what had happened to me, though I left out Moranu’s intervention. I understood now why Zynda hadn’t liked to speak of it. The encounter had been as intimate and deeply moving as it was improbable.
“You’re so strong and clear,” he replied. “Something changed.”
“Yes, for the better. What’s the status there?”
“Better, for the moment, though the next battle is imminent. You won’t believe who’s here. You’ll have to see for yourself.”
“All right. I’m nearly there.”
“Were you able to restore the barrier?”
I hesitated. Restoring the barrier seemed pointless at the moment. The Dasnarian navy was inside already. The high priestess was about to land right here, and the barrier couldn’t stop her. Besides, more and more it felt like the Heart’s power flowed more freely with the dome broken. I’d relied on that barrier so much, fixated on it, but maybe now was the time to let it go.
“Rayfe, my wolf, what if I pull the barrier down altogether?”
I felt his shock, then a thoughtful pause. “What is your idea?”
This. This was what our marriage had been and should be. I’d lost sight of it in all the pain and moving of shells, but this… This felt like coming home.
“The barrier no longer protects us from Dasnaria,” I said, thinking it through. “It no longer serves its original purpose, to starve Deyrr of magic. It’s become a thing that restricts people, harms them, and divides them. If I take it down, magic will return to all the world, which—isn’t that how it should be?”
“And what about Deyrr?”
“Either we defeat them or we don’t—but how is the barrier a factor in that, either way? Starving them didn’t work because there will always be pockets of magic, exceptions that people seek out. Because people need magic—and it’s the right of everyone in the world to have it, not just the greedy who stole it or those lucky few who hoarded it.”
“You make an excellent argument. Will you want to consult with Ursula? She hasn’t convened with us yet.”
She hadn’t? Danu preserve her then. I set that worry aside. “No. This isn’t her decision. The barrier belonged to Annfwn. It’s Annfwn’s decision. Yours and mine.”
“Truly just yours, as the barrier has been yours to hold—or not.”
“No,” I replied firmly. “We are a team and we decide together.”
The wave of love he sent filled and bolstered me. The high priestess had been devastatingly accurate in undermining this foundation of my life. Without Rayfe, I could survive, but with his love, I exceeded what I’d thought I could do.
“In truth, then,” he said softly, with some regret, “the barrier never belonged to the Tala at all. We were those thieves and hoarders. Annfwn flourished at the expense of others. It’s time we shared that wealth.”
“Thank you, my wolf. You’re a good man and a better king.”
“Because of you, my queen. Do it, and come home to me.”
Folding my wings, I dove into the sea, and went to the Heart one last time.
The crabs had been busy tr
ying to follow their embedded instructions to repair the barrier, even though they hadn’t heard me. They massed all along the open hole, like a necklace of lapis beads, gleaming in the glow of the remaining shield around the dome. More light streamed out from the Heart below, illuminating the water in a narrow beam, like the sun breaking through clouds.
This would be my first test of the high priestess’s shielding: I would confirm my ability to circumvent it, and also very likely alert her that I could do so. I readied myself—and a huge shadow passed over my fish form, nebulous and threatening. I whirled to confront it, and realized my octopus had followed me. It waited patiently, apparently expecting instructions.
Which reminded me I had that junior priestess bound to me as well. It might not fool the high priestess for long, but if I could masquerade as her minion, that might be enough to confuse her for a short time. Slipping inside the junior priestess’s magic, I used her like a glove, extending her consciousness to the high priestess’s shielding, and using that to vanish it.
Moving fast, I released the crabs from their onus, freeing them to return to whatever deep ocean lives they’d lived before the ancient sorcerers of n’Andana conscripted them. They scuttled off into the abyss, singing a silent and joyful song of freedom. After that it took me only moments to take hold of the dome and its larger cousin, draining both back into the Heart from which they sprang. The task required very little of me—nothing like manipulating the barrier had—as I simply guided the magic back to its origin.
The Heart drank the magic in, reabsorbing it into its own, all light vanishing.
And in that darkness, the primordial magic of the formless and faceless time before creation radiated out through the world. Moranu smiled, silver edged in the blackness that held all of life, as balance began returning to the universe.
~ 23 ~
When I flew into the cliff city, a great deal had changed.
The battle on the beach still raged, but the tide of it seemed to be turning. Even more warriors on elephants had landed, and they worked in impressively effective teams to isolate Deyrr’s creatures and turn them back into the sea. There was no sign of Kiraka or the red dragon, so I sent my octopus to search for them. It seemed surprisingly pleased to have a task—though I had no other clear sense of the person who’d once occupied that flesh. More N’Andanan ships ringed our harbor, making a path for the high priestess’s flagship to approach. She would land in another hour to my eye. We’d have to decide how to handle her.
I landed on the breakwater and cast my mind over the battlefield that had once been our paradise. Scanning the Deyrr creatures, I examined the mental leashes controlling them. A few belonged to the high priestess, and I left those alone for the time being. Others were the mindless variety, trudging ever onward with their basic instructions. But I found individuals—usually the larger, fiercest animals—and groups with connections to Deyrr’s magic like bundles of ribbons gathered into a bouquet, all leading back to various junior priests and priestesses.
I took a moment to look through their eyes and listen through their ears. They had all gathered in a great council chamber, one I recognized from Karyn’s memories as being in the old palace in n’Andana. They sat around a long table. Dozens of them, so deep in trances that they looked like the pale statues from the courtyards at Ordnung. I spotted the priest and priestess I’d already taken, verifying that they looked no different from the others—should anyone awaken enough to take note.
One by one, I plucked them from the withered vine they’d adhered to, taking their minds and wills for my own. I’d already defeated the two most proficient sorcerers among them, so I worked my way down the chain, selecting the ones I wanted, those piloting the beasts attacking the beach at Annfwn. I would deal with the rest later, if they survived the destruction of the high priestess.
As I gathered their wills in my own dread bouquet, I directed them to pull their creatures back from the fighting. To disengage and wait.
Then I flew to the council chambers, now guarded entirely by our own people—a welcome sight—and they recognized me, cheering my return. Nakoa, Dafne and a crying little Salena stood to the side. All appeared to be unharmed, Dafne giving me a wave and smile of relief. Nakoa stood off to the side, face a mask of concentration. He was brewing the storm to slow the Dasnarian navy then. Excellent.
Two strangers stood with Rayfe. Shifting back to human form—in full Queen of Annfwn mode, complete with jewels and crown—I surveyed the new arrivals with considerable bemusement. Ah, Moranu, you trickster.
Rayfe, resplendent in formal black and, to my surprise wearing his own crown, strode to my side with a wolfish grin. Lifting my hand, he kissed it, lips passing warmly to my skin. “My queen, may I present our saviors.”
My eyes went straight to the tall, ivory-haired woman with the extraordinary blue eyes. Now that I knew to look, I picked out the bone structure so like Harlan’s—and the same gentle nature within. I gave her a gracious nod. “Imperial Princess Ivariel, I presume?”
She glanced at the dark-skinned man beside her, a wry smile on her lush mouth, and he grinned widely. “Your Highness, Sorceress Andromeda,” she replied, her Common Tongue stilted and colored with a Dasnarian accent, “I left the rank of my birth behind long ago, and with great gratitude that I could do so. Please call me Ivariel. And this is my husband, Ochieng.”
The man I recognized from the visions bowed to me with a flourish, dark eyes sparkling with humor both odd for the tense circumstance and most welcome. “Forgive my bemusement, Your Highness,” he said in flawless Common Tongue, “it’s not every day one meets a heron that becomes one of former High King Uorsin’s daughters. Dragons, wizardry, shapeshifting! I’m still assimilating this wondrous land of yours. So much here that seems more out of an old tale than real.”
Ivariel made a face. “He talks a lot,” she confided to me. “And we have pressing matters of war to discuss, Your Highness.”
“Indeed. And call me Andi.” I turned to Rayfe, catching Dafne’s eye, too. “Still no Ursula and Harlan?”
“Harlan?” Ivariel jumped on his name with breathless alacrity. “Harlan Konyngrr?”
“Your brother, yes,” I replied. “He is here somewhere.” I hoped. “Though I believe he would lay no more claim to your family surname than you do. Rayfe?”
He shook his head. “No report of either of them. I have people looking.”
“I must go to him,” Ivariel demanded, eyes flashing. She hadn’t left the imperial princess too far behind. “Ochieng, we must find him and help. I can’t come this close and—” She broke off, unable to speak the worst.
Ochieng took her hand. “Give them a moment. Take a breath.”
She calmed instantly, an impressive skill that he could affect her so quickly. Ivariel turned a beseeching look on me. “You must help find him. I care deeply about this.”
“Ursula is my sister, so I care deeply also,” I replied in a dry tone, already casting out my senses to locate them, and realizing as I said it that these relations made Ivariel my heart-sister. Just what I needed: another hard-headed sister who liked to give orders. She opened her mouth and I held up a hand to stop her. “While I’m looking, we need to make plans. The high priestess will make landfall in an hour.”
“Dafne and I were just explaining the situation when you arrived,” Rayfe said. “You look. We’ll discuss.”
I threw more effort into scanning for Ursula, knowing our long history and shared blood would make her show up to my mind’s eye more easily. Where would she be? Wherever it was, Harlan would surely be by her side. Not on the beach. Not in the tunnels. I leapt from mind to mind, eyes to eyes. Then I knew where she’d be.
Aha! Sure enough. She and Harlan faced down an army of Deyrr creatures at the gate. Of course she wouldn’t be able to stand aside and let them attack her other kingdoms. Scanning those animals, I found most belonged to the high priestess. Some looked to other, still active junior priests and priest
esses, so I didn’t dare take them just yet, lest I tip my hand. Ursula and Harlan were holding their own, but we needed to extract them. I threw more magic into the gate, and the invisible walls around it, the power of the Heart flowing hot and fast like blood from an artery.
“They’re at the gate,” I announced, coming back to the room. “They need help.”
“I’m going.” Ivariel turned to dash out, but Ochieng caught her hand again.
“La,” he chided. “I will go, too, but let’s plan to take a force with us.”
“Yes,” I said, nodding in thanks to him, and turning to Rayfe. “We need to get everyone together—including Ami—for when the high priestess lands.”
He cocked his head, invisible wolf’s ears pricking with interest. “You know what you’re going to do now.”
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
The wolf showed in his smile. “I knew you would.”
Ivariel chafed with impatience, but within minutes we had a plan. After giving me an impassioned kiss that had Ivariel and Ochieng raising their brows, Rayfe flew to marshal our forces fighting at the tunnels. I gave Ivariel a staymach bird—which she immediately passed to Ochieng, commenting that he was the one gifted with animals—to guide them to the gate. They’d gather their people on the way. Once they retook the gate and freed Ursula and Harlan, they’d all meet us on the beach before the cliff city.
My octopus found Kiraka, hanging well back from the superheated water around her and red dragon as they spun in a death grip of talons and flame in the deep sea.
“I’m taking control of the dragon’s puppeteer,” I warned her after a brief knock.
“About time you figured that out,” she snapped, not in the least gracious. But then, she wouldn’t be Kiraka if she displayed gratitude.
“You could’ve suggested it.”
“You’re too stubborn. My Daughter,” she demanded.
“All are well, and the battle is turned in our favor, since you didn’t ask,” I replied absently as I slipped into the mind of the priest piloting the red dragon. He flinched in shock at my invasion, then lashed out with a mental whip.
The Fate of the Tala Page 31