Identity Revealed: The Tue-Rah Chronicles

by Butler, J. M.

  One of the boxes had fallen under a large rock, wedged on its side. Amelia moved the stone aside, then took the box to AaQar. He accepted it without comment, still letting the gecko scurry about on his hands and arms. It was almost charming, and having the secret orb hidden in her sleeve comforted her.

  After Amelia searched a while longer, AaQar at last called her back. "We have one more place to go." He spoke differently now, his voice more contemplative. "Come with me." He then led her toward the ruined city of Istador. The small brown gecko perched on his shoulder as he walked, and when they passed the cloud dragon, AaQar snapped his fingers and beckoned it to come.

  Something had changed…or was changing. The air was tense as if a storm hung in it. But there were no clouds in the sky. Whatever was in the ruins, it did not appear as if there were many places for the boxes to be hidden. There were no crevices of holes. Old pillars, half crumpled into dust, broke the terrain. Then she caught sight of a large pile of ash that lay scattered on the marketplace dais. A charred corpse lay in the middle.

  Amelia walked around the ash pile, staring at it. She couldn't look away. Why was it here?

  Footprints scattered the grey and black ash. The charred corpse looked fairly small. Not a child, but a youth perhaps. A small-boned youth. "Who was this?" she asked.

  "I don't remember." AaQar looked to the sky. "I have matters to tend to down by the river. Search for the boxes on the dais. Otherwise, do as you like, but do not leave. Keep this to protect yourself." He handed her his dagger and sheath. "I will return shortly."

  Amelia nodded, but she couldn't look away from the boy. His neck had been broken.

  Sadness welled within her. She knelt beside the body and placed her hand over the corpse's. "Why was this done to him?" she asked.

  The wind whistled about her. AaQar had already left.

  33

  A Strange Illness

  The tension remained in the room even after Naatos and WroOth left. Shon let his shoulders drop and drew in a long deep breath. He couldn't believe what had happened. How could Amelia be married to Naatos?

  "This is wrong. Completely wrong." Matthu flung himself back on the bench. His head cracked on the wood. Grimacing, he rubbed it. "And this headache won't go away."

  "Maybe if you quit hitting your head." Shon pushed away from the bars and resumed pacing. This escalation was the last thing he had anticipated. His own head spun. He could barely believe that he had said Amelia was his fiancée. Had that been stupid or brilliant?

  It almost didn't matter. The fever in his own mind raged. Why shouldn't he and Amelia wind up together? It was a little quick, admittedly. Everything with Amelia had been that way. It was as if he had been opened up, and all the careful protections he'd built around his heart stripped away. Maybe it was meant to be. Perhaps destiny had been at work between them.

  His heart quickened as he recalled the passion of those kisses. Already he trusted Amelia, relied on her. They'd slipped into a comfortable and beautiful romance as easily as sliding into the hot water springs beyond the Tevru Plains.

  "What was the point of that anyway?" Matthu sat up. "If she's married to Naatos, you being engaged to her isn't going to fix anything. It's just going to get you killed, and that isn't going to change whether Amelia's married to Naatos."

  "It will make sense when you're older." Shon shook the door. The bars rattled.

  "Really?" Matthu kept his hand over his eyes, massaging his temples with his other hand. "I just…Shon, how is this not a bad idea? I don't mind you and Amelia as a couple, but they're going to kill us anyway."

  "They will most likely try."

  "If they try, they're probably going to succeed." Matthu sounded miserable. He shook his head, his eyes still shut. "I don't mind dying. I don't want to die because I'm stupid though. Maybe that was always going to happen."

  "Hey. We're not dead yet." Shon helped Matthu sit up. "Now let's start thinking."

  Matthu groaned and rubbed his head again. "We've checked everything in here."

  "And we'll check again. You work on the bench. I'll keep at the bars." Shon began twisting at the bars. So far, none had given much. That didn't mean one couldn't be worked free.

  Matthu slowly stood. He then turned, knelt beside the bench, and pressed against the planks. "Maybe we'll get taken over again and do something impressive."

  "Maybe." Shon doubted it. His skin prickled at the memory. In addition to being uncomfortable, it had been eerie. Like something he should have understood, words just beyond the reach of his mind. He glanced back at Matthu, noticing his brother was slumping against the bench, his eyes half-closed. "Matthu…"

  "Yeah?" Matthu shook the bench, then jammed his palm against his head again.

  "Why do you keep doing that?" Shon frowned. Matthu had been pressing on his head with increasing frequency over the course of the morning.

  "I'm fine." Matthu shook his head, his eyes pinched shut.

  "Matthu." Shon motioned for him to come closer. "Step into the light."

  "I said I'm fine." Matthu waved him back, then resumed pushing on the bench until it fell over.

  Shon took him by the arm and pulled him into the torchlight. Groaning, Matthu rubbed his head again, both hands balled into fists. His cheeks were flushed now, sweat beading his forehead and neck. Shon tested Matthu's pulse, surprised at how fast it raced.

  Matthu scowled, trying to push him away. "I'm fine. I don't need you to take care of me." He grunted. "It's just a headache, all right? It comes and goes. Like there's a spider on the back of my head. It doesn't feel right."

  "Let me see," Shon said.

  Matthu flinched. "I'm fine."

  Shon righted the bench. "Lie down."

  Matthu stood there silent, staring blankly at the wall.

  Shon grabbed Matthu by the shoulders and pulled him to the bench. He checked his head. There were no marks. The bruising on the back of his neck where Naatos had struck him did not appear too severe. The bruise was a mottled blue and purple with no signs of a break. He combed his hand through his brother's hair, searching his skull for bumps or cuts. There was nothing.

  Matthu groaned, his body tightening. He covered his face once again. "Why won't it go away? It's waiting for me…"

  "What is?" Shon loosened Matthu's collar. He couldn't see any reason why his brother would be getting worse. "Matthu, can you open your eyes for me."

  "It's…I'm sorry." Matthu rocked his head back and forth, the motion weaker this time. "I'm happy for you and Amelia. I guess if I have to die, at least it's for a reason."

  "Matthu, you aren't going to die, all right? I'm going to get you out of here."

  "I'm fine. It's waiting for me. I shouldn't…shouldn't fight it." Matthu slurred the final words.

  "Matthu. Matthu!" Shon shook him harder. He struck his flushed cheeks and struggled to rouse him. But Matthu no longer responded.

  Shon ran to the front of the cell. "We need a physician down here immediately. Guard, get a doctor! My brother is ill."

  No answer came. Shon returned to Matthu, praying over him and trying to find some clue to his illness. Whatever it was, it hadn't started to accelerate until Naatos arrived. Or maybe something had bitten him? Shon rolled up Matthu's sleeves and searched for bites or marks.

  Soft footsteps slipped down the stone staircase.

  Looking up, Shon expected to see one of the guards, but instead he saw a young Machat. The Machat wore simple brown and beige garments and cloth-strip boots. He held a finger to his lips and smiled. The long fernlike patterns on his neck, hands, and arms, as well as his distinctively long fifth fingers demonstrated his identity as clearly as if he wore a badge proclaiming it.

  "Be calm," the Machat whispered, pulling down his hood. He had sandy brown hair, bold amber eyes, and narrow features. "Your brother is ill, but I can help." Turning sideways, he slipped through the bars, barely brushing against the metal poles.

  Shon stared at the Machat in surprise. A
fter years of silence, this was the second Machat he had seen in less than four days. "Who are you?"

  "I am Irasso. I am here to help you." Irasso knelt beside Matthu and placed one hand over Matthu's throat, the other against his cheek.

  "Are you alone?" Shon crouched beside him.

  "For now. But soon, there will be one hundred and seventy-five of us. We've been preparing for this for quite some time."

  "Do you know what's wrong with him? He was fine until a little bit ago."

  "Yes. This is the elmitho. A side effect of a certain type of mindshifting. A Neyeb took control of your thoughts and your brother's." Irasso lifted a thin leather pouch from his side and opened it.

  "But I'm fine," Shon said.

  "Your brother is only seventeen." Irasso uncorked a small vial of clear liquid. "Hold your brother's eyes open." When Shon did, he poured a small stream into the eye and then on the other. "The effects of the mindshifting are still with him. He was exposed to the connection again a short while ago, and that has accelerated the damage."

  "Is it reversible?"

  "If we find the Neyeb responsible for this in time, yes," Irasso said.

  "So he will be all right?" Shon's gut clenched as he looked down at his brother. Matthu's eyes, though open and watering, showed no signs of consciousness. All thoughts of escape, Amelia, and the Tue-Rah were becoming less and less important.

  "What I am giving him will bring him back to his regular state of mind." Irasso massaged the skin beneath Matthu's eyes, his touch quick and light. "At least mostly. But only for a time."

  "Then what? I've never heard of anything like this before. Where did this other Neyeb come from?"

  Irasso stared at him for a moment, his gaze intense as if measuring Shon. The scrutiny of the Machat made Shon uncomfortable. It was as if he was searching him for some weakness. But at last Irasso tilted his head to the side. "You trust my words because I am a Machat, do you not?"

  Shon nodded. He had never heard of an evil or wicked Machat. They, of all people, knew how important following Elonumato was, and a Machat who used his gift for ill would suffer devastating consequences. Moreover, his father had told him time and again that the Machat did not lie. Not even when it was for a good reason.

  "Good. Then understand this: The one who did this to your brother is not evil. Only frightened. This was never that Neyeb's intent. Unfortunately, your brother may die from this outpouring, and the greater the tragedy it will be if that happens. The medicine I am giving him will keep him strong for a full day if all goes well, but you must guard him. And before the end of this day, we must locate the Neyeb who did this."

  Shon's mouth went dry. "I can help look for him."

  "No. You must watch over your brother. That is your task. My kin and I will locate the Neyeb. Then we will take all of you to New Istador."

  "What about Amelia and the other prisoners here?"

  "Yes. All of them." Irasso nodded. He took a soft brown rag from the pouch and gently wiped around Matthu's eyes, then pressed them shut. "He will wake soon. Do not be surprised if he does not always make sense. His mind will try to gain control. You do not need to be concerned until he starts seizing. There are things we can do to slow the progress, but at that point, we will have only a matter of hours before the end."

  Shon set his jaw, his muscles tight. "And Naatos is not behind this? Is this Neyeb working for him?"

  "Not at all. But you must not let him, AaQar, or WroOth know that your brother is ill or what he has. Not even Matthu can know this. If it becomes known, the Paras will kill him. He will wake within the hour. Shortly after that, a guard will come to present you to Amelia before you are freed. Threats will be made against you and innocents if you do not cooperate. Do precisely as you are told. Then you will be taken to the place you are to die." He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Here is what you must do then."

  34

  Cohsaw

  Amelia turned back to the corpse. Everything had gone silent. A heaviness hung over her now. She felt as if she could almost hear words if she listened hard enough. The boy could not have done anything to deserve this fate. Why had he been abandoned here?

  Amelia fastened the sheath to her makeshift sash, then she crossed over to the cloud dragon. It shook its maned head. Stray blue hairs flew into the air. Stroking its head, Amelia shushed it. "Easy now," she said.

  Grasping its face, she looked into its big marble-like eyes. "They say you dragons are smart. Let's see if you can understand this."

  She knelt and dug her hand into the earth. Drawing it back, she scraped a groove. The cloud dragon snorted. A low rumble rose from its chest.

  Amelia pointed to the ground and demonstrated again. Then she touched its paws and made the motion again. She did this several times. The dirt dug up underneath her fingernails, grating under her palms. It was a dry combination of dirt and sand.

  At last, the cloud dragon shook its head and dug alongside her like a giant terrier, dirt flying on either side of it.

  Amelia moved out of the way and watched until a deep enough hole had been dug. She then tugged the cloud dragon back and stroked its nose. The scales of its snout and soft fur of its cheek were smooth to her touch. "Thank you," she said.

  Amelia removed the blanket and knelt beside the youth's body. Placing the blanket over him, she wrapped him gently. The rigor of his corpse and the scent of charred flesh and bone did not bother her as much as she had expected. And as soon as she lifted him, that strange sensation intensified.

  Tendrils of memories, more feelings rather than images. But then a song came to her mind. Without thinking, she hummed and then half sang, half spoke, as if she had known it for years. The words were odd and lilting, but they flowed with ease.

  * * *

  Hush, dear one, child of the Machat

  Hear the blessing of the Most Honored One

  Let not the fears of what has been mar now your faith

  Let not the terror of night steal your peace

  Rest in hope now, dear one

  You are known, you are loved

  Your fight was not in vain

  Your sacrifice not for naught

  May your spirit find the winds and soar

  Fly, little child, beyond the seas, beyond all dreams

  You ran well and gave your all

  Now, child sweet, be blessed

  Now in rest you know

  Fear will never strike you

  Harm will never bind you

  Elonumato receive this Machat.

  Bless his soul and mend his form.

  Let him find eternal peace and suffer here no more.

  Her voice trembled as she finished, the final words slipping from her mouth. She almost heard the sound of chimes and flutes in the back of her mind. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, catching in her hair and on the blanket.

  For several minutes longer, she sat there, holding him. Where had his family been? Did they even know what had happened to him? And where had Elonumato been? He seemed more absent than present these days. She pressed her forehead against the blanket. "I don't know who you are or why this happened to you," she said. "But I am sorry."

  Rising, she carried the youth's body to the slanted pit the cloud dragon had dug. She placed him inside and pushed the dirt in. It fell in thick clumps on the wrapped body. As the dirt fell in, her tears mixed with it. Whoever he was, she hoped he was at peace.

  Amelia at last stood, her knees and hands covered in dirt. Movement near the southern pillars caught her eye. AaQar.

  Amelia dried her eyes on the back of her hands, streaking the dirt into mud. "I haven't found anything."

  "I know. There are no boxes here. I brought you here for another reason." AaQar nodded toward the fresh grave. "That was what I needed to see."

  Amelia frowned. "What? A dead youth?"

  AaQar stopped a few paces from her, his expression masked in quiet contemplation. "Do you know the words you were speaking?"

&
nbsp; "The words just came to me."

  AaQar smiled faintly. "That was one of the Machat Death Blessings. One for a martyr. The Machat are one of the Neyeb sister races, and though they are not mindreaders, their minds can leave powerful imprints that can be felt. This won't happen to you with all the dead you find. The reason it came to you was because it was one of the last things that boy was thinking of when he died. Perhaps one of his final memories. Not the only one of course, but one of the last. He embedded it in his consciousness. His final wish." He drew closer, his eyes narrowing as he looked intently into hers. "Perhaps I was wrong about you. I see nothing of your mother in you other than your stubbornness and rage. But even that is dimmed compared to hers."

  "No." Amelia stepped back, anger rising within her. "No, I am very much like my mother. You are my enemy."

  "Of course." AaQar lifted his hand to the shoulder. The gecko ran out from the shadow of his neck, its slender red tongue flicking out of its mouth. "Did you know that the Neyeb were never a populous race? It was a great risk for them, but many traveled throughout the populated worlds to serve as counselors and advisers." He coaxed the gecko back onto his hand. "So I will ask your counsel. What I told you about Rasha was true. WroOth has already had and lost his family. I wait only for Naatos to father children and for the Tue-Rah to be restored and secured. When that day comes, I will embrace my brothers and my sister, kiss my nieces and nephews on the head, give them my final blessings, and then end what I started long ago if my end does not come sooner. Is this wrong?"

  Amelia shook her head, resisting the sharp emotions and pain flowing from him. "You're playing with me," she said, her voice tightening. "You want to see if I tell you that there's hope for you beyond this. That you and your brothers could have a life beyond the Tue-Rah, and that committing suicide is wrong. That you could have a future beyond this if only you set aside your own plans and stopped defying Elonumato."