Kiraka snorted in amusement at my rebuke, and helpfully clamped her jaws over the red dragon’s sensitive muzzle. The priest tried to pull out of dragon, abandon his puppet to its fate, but I already had him in an unrelenting mental vise. His will became mine—a lifetime of vile cruelties bursting into my mind as if I’d bitten into a bile-filled sack—and the dragon stopped fighting, going limp in Kiraka’s grip. I spat mentally, ridding myself of the priest’s memories, stripping away what I didn’t need from him. I didn’t want to know, and who he’d been, what he’d done, didn’t matter anymore. All he needed to do was serve me by piloting the red dragon. I gave him his instructions.
“See you both up top,” I said. “We’re going to need you.”
“What else is new?” Kiraka grumbled, but she began stroking for the surface with great sweeps of her wings as if she flew through the dense water, the red dragon steadfastly pacing her.
I became the heron again. With the Heart’s magic flowing freely—and having slipped the restraints of my own fears about who or what I might become—I shapeshifted with glorious ease.
Heading to meet the others at the gate, I cast my mind outward, seeking the null spot that would be Zynda. They had to be out there, just hidden by the high priestess’s shielding. Both dragons erupted from the water below, the red dragon already farther out toward the horizon. I tracked with him, keeping a piece of my attention inside the priest’s mind. He would tell me when he and the dragon found my people.
I jumped to Jepp’s mind. No longer fighting, she stood at the wheel of the Hákyrling, Kral beside her, watching from peaceful, sunlit seas as a lightning storm plagued the Dasnarian fleet.
“This is Andi,” I said, trying not to startle her, but also not wanting to lurk in her mind without her knowing. Either I was getting more proficient or she’d gotten more accustomed to my intrusions, but she didn’t jump this time.
“Glad you’re here, Andi,” she said aloud, Kral turning to look at her with a wide grin. “Nakoa’s storm is a thing of beauty. The entire navy is stalled.”
“Thanks for clearing the Deyrr creatures out,” Kral added. “They abruptly vanished a quarter of an hour ago. We’re able to think straight now—and we figure we have you to thank.”
Clearing out the Deyrr creatures? But I hadn’t… oh. I re-examined the impression the priest had left, the shadow image of his many tentacled magic, before I’d pared him down for my purposes. All of these creatures in this region had been his. When I’d peeled him down to a single use, all of those tethers had been cut from the source. His creations still “lived” in their way, carrying out their simple instructions, but without focus or strength. Hmm.
“Do you need anything more?” I asked Jepp, unwilling to use her mouth unless necessary.
“She asks if we need anything, but I don’t think so?” Jepp said to Kral.
He shook his head, pulling off his helm to wipe sweat and blood from his brow, running a big hand over his pale hair. “The question is, what do they need? I only regret that we can’t get to you. How fare things in Annfwn?”
I laughed, realizing they didn’t know, and felt Jepp’s lips curve in response to my amusement. “We may yet win this thing. Tell Kral that his sister is here with elephants, and they’ve probably saved the day.”
Jepp relayed the message, incredulity in her voice, and Kral looked thunderstruck. “We need to get there,” he growled.
“There’s a touch of bad weather twixt here and there,” Jepp pointed out.
“As if I needed reminding.”
“Seems as if you did.”
He glared at her. And my heron body had arrived at the gate. “If you’re good, I need to go.” I showed Jepp what I saw.
She whistled, long and low at the sight of the vast, unending column of Deyrr creatures pressing up against the gate, some trampled beneath their fellows’ uncaring tread, others mounding up from the pressure behind. Trees had fallen, breaching my invisible wall, with creatures of all kinds trudging like ants along the bridges they made. More looked to be tunneling beneath, throwing up dirt and rocks into piles.
And, from the beach side, an army of elephants cut through the mass of Deyrr-animated animals. The mounted warriors stabbed and sliced, cutting some down, but the real threat came from the elephants. They trampled with fierce and meticulous attention, swinging trunks like blunt weapons that swept anything in their path aside. Using their mass with skill, the elephants worked together in an unstoppable siege engine. Tala and Hawks filled in the gaps, working with our new allies with seamless skill.
“Tell Kral this is what his sister has wrought,” I said, before withdrawing.
“Danu go with you,” she called as I left.
I’d spotted Ursula and Harlan, back to back, fighting to keep a space before the gate itself clear. I threw up a barrier around them, landing inside of it, dodging when Ursula swung reflexively and nearly took my head off.
She glared at me. “Danu! Don’t laugh, you reckless brat.”
Harlan lowered his sword, seeming to realize at the same moment that no more assailants came at them. Both were covered in blood and breathing hard. She took the momentary reprieve as an opportunity to survey the larger situation. “We’ve held the gate, but we don’t have the means to stop them from going over, around, and under. I can’t estimate how many are already on their way to Ordnung.”
“I can stop them before they get close,” I assured her.
She wheeled on me with an astonished expression. “Since when are you so confident of that?”
“I figured out a few tricks.”
“Some trick.”
I laughed, the feeling of hope returning like the scent of rain after drought. “Yes.”
“I hope you didn’t have to sell your soul to Moranu for it,” she commented, steely gaze upon me.
I shrugged in the elaborate Tala style. “I wasn’t using it anyway.”
She caught my arm as I turned. “Andi…”
“That was a joke!” I protested, then sobered. “Seriously—what better purpose for my immortal self than to serve a goddess? I’ve always been Marked for Moranu. I just accept the truth of it now.”
Narrowing her eyes, she swore under her breath. “You’re hysterical.”
“No, Essla,” I said gently. “I’m finally at peace with myself.”
“Andromeda, my queen,” Rayfe said in my mind. “We are gathered on the beach, and the high priestess’s ship approaches.”
“I’ll slow her down,” I replied, “but we’ll be there soon. Ami is with you?”
“Yes. Go carefully.”
I blew him a mental kiss, then turned to Ursula. “I’m ready to kill the high priestess, and I need you there. Ready to go?”
She surveyed the press of creatures, and Harlan barked out a laugh. “We can’t fly over the top of this, so…”
“Oh, there will be a path out,” I replied with confidence. “Give it a minute. Harlan, I think you’ll like this.”
They exchanged looks as if they doubted my sanity. But after a moment, the wall of Deyrr creatures mashed against my invisible wall began to shift. They moved, squished to the sides, then some farther back flew through the air.
“What in Danu?” Ursula breathed, and I grinned at her.
Harlan stilled, a granite-carved giant of a man, and squinted at the gleam of Ivariel’s ivory hair flashing through a break and quickly gone. “Can it be?” he said, barely speaking the words in his low rumble.
“Yes,” I said to him, because I couldn’t bear the straining hope he tried to contain, so afraid of being disappointed that he nearly broke its wings.
Then the beasts directly before us were shouldered aside by the biggest elephant I’d ever seen, Ochieng perched on her shoulders far above our heads. Beside her a smaller elephant wedged in with nimble strength. I dropped the barrier as several other elephants made a wall around us. Ivariel leapt to the ground and launched herself at Harlan.
He
caught her reflexively, wrapping the tall, slender woman in a bear hug that looked bone cracking. Ursula glanced to the side, wiping away some tears, then smiled wryly when she caught me looking. I slid my arm through the crook of hers, heedless of the blood and gore. I’d clean up before facing down the high priestess.
“It’s good,” I murmured. “We need good things.”
She nodded, firming her mouth, clearly unwilling to trust her voice.
Harlan set Ivariel down, holding her by the shoulders, scrutinizing her with astonishment. “Jenna,” he said. And the world shivered, the bonds of an old vow falling away. “I swore I’d never speak your name until I held you again. And here you are.”
“Here I am,” she answered, tears streaming down her face. “Though you’ve grown a bit since last I saw you.”
He grinned through his own tears, unworried about them. “So have you. But how are you here?”
“I heard my baby brother needed rescuing,” she replied saucily. “I figured I should return the favor.”
“Oh, Jenna—” He broke, catching his breath on a sob. “I’m so sorry. I—”
“Hush. There is nothing to be sorry for,” she answered with ferocity. “You saved me. And I go by Ivariel now. She’s the woman you set free to live and become so much more. I want you to meet my husband and children.”
“This is my wife, Ursula,” Harlan said, reaching for Ursula and drawing her close.
I let her go, taking a moment to check on my octopus friend, who’d wrapped two arms around the breakwater and the rest around the underside of the high priestess’s ship. She was trying to take hold of its will, with no success. Still we needed to get moving.
“Your Majesty.” Ivariel curtseyed in a formal Dasnarian style I’d only seen Karyn use. “I heard my favorite brother gave you the Elskathorrl. Do you deserve it?”
“I…” Ursula didn’t seem to know what to say, uncharacteristically flustered.
“Usually this is my hard-ass sister’s line,” I inserted, “but I hate to interrupt a touching moment with matters of war. We need to get to the beach.”
“Ride with me?” Ivariel suggested to Harlan. Her elephant mount stepped forward, curling her trunk as if holding the hand Ivariel held out. “This is Efe, my special friend.” She looked to Ursula. “If you’d like to ride Violet with Ochieng, he’ll give you a hand up.”
Ursula looked dubious, but soon all four were mounted again. Our elephant escort cleared a path for us, and I shifted to lion form, pacing alongside Efe and Violet. I chose that form partly to stay with them, and just in case I needed my claws. After a brief bout of curious snuffling, the elephants calmed, eyeing me as if they understood I wasn’t that sort of lion.
Our warriors closed ranks around us, and we withdrew. Let them hammer at the gate. If all went well in the next hour, we’d have no more need of it.
Please, Moranu, let my plan work.
The goddess didn’t reply, not in words, but her silvery glide sifted through me. And the priest piloting the red dragon reported tonelessly that they’d located the null space in the sky. Using him like one of Kral’s armored gauntlets, I smashed through the high priestess’s shield.
I knocked politely, and Zynda pulled me in with the equivalent of a mental tackle hug. Looking through Zynda’s eyes, I took in the small island. It seemed all our people were there. Zyr, in gríobhth form with Karyn at his side, Djakos and Ash nearby, Marskal already climbing the harness to Zynda’s back. Beyond them, all of our aerial forces, lolling over the small patch of land in various reclining poses. All rose to their feet at Zynda’s alert, weapons ready, wings flexing.
“Thank Moranu,” Zynda said. “What took you so long?”
“This and that. Have you been here the whole time?”
“Pretty much. We stopped for water and the high priestess grounded us. Nothing I could do could break through the shield she put over the island. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Those shields were a major problem. Almost impossible to breach.”
“Were and almost?” Her hopeful tone made me smile.
“Yes. I can take her down now. How fast can you get here?”
“Fast.”
“Good. Have that focus stone ready.”
“We’ll be there before you know it.”
To prove it, they all leapt into the sky.
~ 24 ~
By the time we returned to the beach, a great deal had changed. A few Deyrr creatures fought here and there, but the majority had retreated to orderly ranks, waiting off to the sides in obedient patience. My octopus had slowed the vessel enough, so I let it stop fighting. It hung in the water, waiting for instructions. When this finished, I’d have to figure out what to do with all these beings I’d leashed to my will. They weren’t a burden—indeed, it seemed the force of their suspended lives flowed into me, which was no doubt a perk for those serving Deyrr—but they did depend on me for instruction. A responsibility I did not want.
In the back of my mind, dark silvered laughter chuckled past. I ignored the goddess’s sarcastic reaction. I’d never asked for detailed instructions on what to do and how to live.
Didn’t you?
At least Moranu’s voice was back to sounding like my own conscience, rather than a booming entity shattering my skull.
Rayfe’s wolf form paced to greet me, rubbing his jaw along my muzzle, his scent speaking to the animal part of me of mate and home and safety.
Soon that would be true.
We both shifted to human form, both in our formal regalia, and turned as one to face the approaching vessel as King and Queen of Annfwn. A united front.
Harlan and Ivariel, then Ursula and Ochieng joined us, along with others of their family, including their elephants ranged behind. Dafne held Salena, sitting with Nakoa on Kiraka’s back, where she could protect them. Kaedrin, her shining armor blood-spattered, strode up and exchanged Danu’s salute with Ursula.
“You brought the Nyamburans here,” Ursula said, with dawning realization.
“We were already on our way,” Ivariel said in her accented Common Tongue, “but yes, my old teacher found us and guided us to be here at the correct place and time.”
“You were on your way?” Harlan repeated, dumbfounded.
“Danu guided my steps,” Ivariel told him somberly.
“And we all jumped at the chance to miss the rainy season this year.” Ochieng grinned back at their family, who returned the smile with enthusiastic nods.
“I like the rains,” Ivariel protested.
“You’ll have to tell me about them,” Harlan said. “And the elephants.”
She smiled softly. “I will like that.”
Ami, skirts gathered so she could run, but billowing around her like a glorious pink sunset, dashed up to us.
“Ash is alive, whole, and on his way here,” I told her before she could ask.
She came to a halt, a tumult of rose-gold abruptly stilled in utter relief. “Thank Glorianna,” she breathed, drawing the goddess’s circle in the air.
“I think Moranu gets the credit this time,” I replied wryly, and Rayfe slid me a sparkling glance.
“Thank Moranu,” Ami replied dutifully, drawing her crescent moon, then bisecting it with Danu’s diagonal sword. “And Danu, too,” she said to Ursula. “I knew you all were fearsome warriors, but I can’t believe how fast you turned the tide on this battle.”
“I suspect credit for that goes to Moranu, also.” Ursula’s gaze rested thoughtfully on me. “Or to her avatar.”
Ignoring her, I spoke to Ami. “Willy and Nilly—are they all right?”
“Yes, safe in the tunnels. Who are all these people?”
“No time for introductions now. Are you wearing your rubies?” I glanced to see that Ursula wore hers, bright on her ears and gleaming like fresh arterial blood against the leathers protecting her chest.
Ami sighed dramatically. “Under my gown.”
“Let’s see.”
> “I’m wearing them!”
“Prove it.”
“You don’t wear rubies with pink,” she grumbled, but dragged at her lace-edged neckline and pulled out a large, heart-shaped ruby pendant on a long chain.
Ursula eyed it. “I don’t remember that one.”
“I helped myself to it a long time ago,” Ami replied sweetly, with a flutter of lashes. “Obviously it was meant to be mine, being a heart and all.”
“Obviously,” Ursula muttered, shaking her head.
I nearly laughed, so filled with love for them, and for the good things that never changed, no matter how terrible things got. “This is how it will go,” I told them, raising my voice. “Ursula, I need you ten paces to my right. Ami, the same distance to my left. Rayfe will take my back, and Harlan to Ursula’s. Ivariel and Ochieng, would you guard my youngest sister’s back?” When they nodded, I asked Rayfe to distribute the remaining warriors at his discretion.
They all moved to their places with grave alacrity and without argument. I realized the winds of magic had begun to lift my hair and whip the heavy red velvet skirts of my gown. I pulled the Star of Annfwn out of my pocket and held it loosely. It glowed and hummed, the rubies I wore taking up the harmony in bloodred thirst, echoed by those Ami and Ursula wore.
The high priestess’s vessel stopped at the shallowest point possible. I expected a small boat or punt to bring her ashore, but that wasn’t dramatic enough. She stood at the rail, blinding gold as the sun struck her armor, then she floated to the water, where a pair of large porpoises rose. She stood with one foot on each, taking up a harness they held in their mouths. Lifting a hand like a general, she pointed them toward shore. Gliding over the spray like a triumphant golden goddess, she zoomed through the gentle surf.
“Tacky,” Ami proclaimed with a sniff.
I smothered a smile, but Rayfe, just off my shoulder laughed darkly. “She is a little much,” he murmured.
“You haven’t seen the half of it,” I replied under my breath.
The Fate of the Tala Page 32