Identity Revealed: The Tue-Rah Chronicles

by Butler, J. M.

  Naatos nodded toward the orb. "If these are what they seem, then this is the work of the Unato. Masters of healing rather than of venom. I do not know how the Machat found any or if they have somehow acquired such arts for themselves, but somehow it has been done. There is a reason they made forty. The supposed fulfillment of your destiny ends with you killing my brothers and me. But that act will cost you your own life, and you will pay for it in the pain and suffering of the forty your mother sacrificed to make you a blood child. Forty orbs to save your life forty times so that you will live and not die when you fulfill your destiny. Or perhaps just to save your life on forty separate occasions." Naatos turned the orb over in his hand, smiling.

  Amelia watched him. Her apprehension grew as well as a small ray of hope. If that was strong enough to bring her back from death, then perhaps they could heal her. Perhaps…

  "It seems that more than one riddle with an obvious answer has been staring us in the face, and we have not seen it. And these orbs…well, they are incredible creations. They can heal the most grievous of wounds."

  Amelia's breaths quickened. "How quickly do they work?" She bit the inside of her lip, not wanting to tip her hand but knowing that asking was the only way she could learn what she needed. He probably knew already. Why else would he be bringing this up? The snake slid from her wrist onto the bed post.

  Naatos sat at the end of the bed, the orb cradled in his palm, just out of her reach. He watched her closely. "Yes. This could heal you within moments. I already destroyed the majority of these. So obviously this means you cannot fulfill your destiny and kill me. But there's still this one. I could use it right now to heal you." He held the orb up between his fingers.

  "You won't though." Amelia could feel the hope dying.

  "You're right." Naatos clenched the orb in his fist. It snapped, the liquid oozing over his hand, dripping onto the floor. Naatos flung the fragments of the orb onto the floor. The liquid hissed and foamed, scenting the room with lemon, fire, and spice. "It's not that I enjoy seeing you suffer, viskaro. But as long as these orbs exist, you'll harbor some foolish notion in your heart that you can succeed in your supposed destiny. You will see if it can be studied. Replicated. You might even see if it could be mass produced and used to heal everyone. You seem foolish enough to do such a thing. So I can't leave even one in existence." He held up the second orb.

  Amelia tightened her jaw. Even with the other orb safely hidden, knowing that healing was just a few feet away tormented her. Her fingers dug into the soft sheets. "And what? You want me to beg for it? Or do you like the idea of me being incapacitated? It's not so hard to catch me now."

  Naatos laughed. "No, Amelia." He let the orb slip onto his palm. "I am not going to use this orb to heal you. In truth, what I am about to tell you is part of the reason I did not believe the Salvation of the Third Nalenth could possibly be just an instrument of healing. You see, you are my viskaro, and when the locking is complete, then I will heal you."

  Amelia frowned, pulling back. "The locking. That's what makes you…" She didn't want to finish the sentence. She needed no more reminders of what the locking involved.

  "Yes. At first, I had planned to delay the locking until I could see to it that you were ready or at least…cooperative. But for whatever reason, the locking is proceeding at an abnormally fast rate even though it has been a relatively short time, and we have had limited interactions. It may simply be my age, or it may be something more. When it concludes, I will be able to heal you. It is one of the advantages of Vawtrians, one they can share with their viskaros. With few exceptions, I can heal you from anything that would otherwise kill you."

  "I don't want you to lock with me," Amelia said. "If there's some way to take it back, then I will."

  Naatos shifted closer. He cupped his hand under her chin, his thumb pressing lightly against her lower lip. "Nothing can be done now, viskaro. It wasn't supposed to happen like this, certainly not this fast. But there is some good in it. If you finish locking with me, it could be done in minutes, and your healing could be permanent. We have salves and potions that heal the flesh rapidly as you have experienced. But bones…they are a different matter. Especially when they are in as bad a state as this."

  "No. This isn't…" Amelia ducked her head. "I am not going to do anything to make you stronger. I don't accept you. I reject you and everything you are."

  Naatos paused, his jaw working slightly. "Amelia, I want you already. Not so much as I will, but far more than I ever thought I would."

  "Well, you want to take over all of creation too. It seems to me like you're not going to get a lot of things you want." Amelia clenched a fistful of sheets, watching him warily.

  Annoyance glinted in Naatos’s eyes. "The medicines will wear off soon, both for this and the wounds from the spiders. I will not give you anything to dull the pain. You will only receive what is needed to prevent infection and death. And I will leave you alone, if that is what you wish, until you beg me for relief."

  "I can deal with pain!" Amelia snapped. "There is another way out of this, and I will figure it out. But here's something for you to think about. You want me to believe you're going to be a good husband. But if that's the case, then use that orb for something good. Don't waste it! At least save it. Or use it on someone else."

  "That would set a bad precedent, viskaro." Naatos held up the orb. The sunlight glistened through it in faint rainbow hues. "You do not command me. I will demonstrate my value and quality as a viskare in other ways. Whenever you are wounded or near death, I will heal you. So long as you are with me and accept me, you will have nothing to fear. This foolish bit of science and light is not for your salvation. I am."

  "Naatos, if you have a healing ball of something that can bring someone back from who knows what, then put it somewhere safe," Amelia said sharply. "You're being stupid."

  "No, you are. If you had not been so difficult, I might have kept this. But I already know you. If I kept this, you would try to get it back, you would want to study it, make more. You would think that there is some way that you can do this, but you cannot, Amelia." Naatos clamped his fist over the orb. Liquid spurted from his hand, filling the room with the same light scent.

  Amelia's chest tightened. As the liquid fizzed and foamed, she controlled her breaths, her anger increasing. "This won't stop me from finding another way. If I have to die to succeed, then so be it. I don't care. I wasn't planning on living anyway."

  Naatos cast the orb fragments aside, scoffing. "Your suffering from this point on is your own doing, viskaro. If you change your mind, my brothers will know where to find me."

  38

  The Mallakish Passage

  The door thudded shut behind Shon and Matthu, sealing them in a long high-walled chamber. It was broad enough for ten men to walk side by side. The ceiling itself disappeared from sight in the darkness. The chamber curved ahead with no apparent side passages.

  Matthu set his hands on the edge of his thick black leather belt and looked around. "Well," he said. "This does not look good. Pretty sure whatever is in here has teeth and scales. What do you think it is?"

  Shon tipped his head back scanned the walls. The grooves and natural indentations in the stone walls were sufficient to allow reptilian and amphibian predators to climb about with little problem. The one good thing, other than the Machat coming, was that Matthu appeared to be relatively stable. He wasn't struggling to stand. Thank Elonumato, Shon thought.

  He paced a few steps forward, his ears straining for any sound of what might be ahead. There was no other sound except the dripping and their own breaths. "Definitely not crudons or dragons."

  Matthu rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe we can use rocks for weapons."

  "No. Take off your chainmail." Shon began removing his layers quickly. The chainmail clinked and clattered. He kept the leather tunic on over the top of the thin undershirt, but he looped the uniform's scarf through the arm holes, then knotted it.

&nb
sp; Matthu frowned. "Wouldn't it make more sense to keep it on? You know, because of the biting. I'm pretty sure we're going to get bit."

  "We have no weapons, and if the chainmail was going to do us any good, you can bet they would have taken them away from us. If you take yours off, put your scarf through it like this, you can use it like moolkas. Wrap the scarf loosely around your hand. Do not tie it to yourself."

  Shon shook out the chainmail and swung it around. The scarf's fabric protected his knuckles, but the chainmail was ungainly and awkward to wield. Better than nothing though.

  Matthu did the same.

  Something hissed. Then a low guttural sound trembled straight ahead.

  Without a word, Shon and Matthu drew closer together, facing out. Shon readjusted his grip on the chainmail. "Definitely reptilian."

  Matthu turned his own chainmail over, his fingers tightening. "Doesn't sound like anything I've heard. It's too…wet."

  A second hiss followed. Claws clacked against the stones. The damp scent intensified.

  "There's more than one," Shon said. "Don't get in the way of the door, but stay close to it. As soon as it opens, run. Don't wait for me."

  "Yeah." Matthu shot Shon an irritated look. "Like I'd abandon you. The Machat either get both of us out of here or neither of us."

  "You'll do what I—" Shon broke off.

  A third hiss sounded. Higher up this time.

  Shon tilted his head back. Something moved along the upper wall, blotting out the highest bits of dim red light. Small rocks clattered down from the grooved wall. When it turned its head, the creature's eyes glimmered dull red. It paused as if sensing it was being watched. Crouching, the creature hissed.

  Shon nudged Matthu. "Watch your head."

  The crouching creature lunged at them.

  Shon and Matthu both ducked to the side, Shon away from the door and Matthu toward it. A large salamander-like creature crashed between them as another leaped from around the corner. Shon barely twisted out of the way as the second one attacked. It sank its heavy jaws into the other creature's tail.

  "Guaras!" Matthu shouted. He ducked as the guara's tail nearly clubbed him across the chest. "They made guaras!"

  "Aim for their eyes." Shon jumped back up and struck the nearest guara in the face. The chainmail whipped sharply over its eyes. Twisting back, the guara hissed, but the smaller one lunged forward and bit at the first guara's throat.

  "Watch your head!" Matthu shouted. He leaped back into the middle of the chamber, pointing toward the ceiling.

  More hissing and snarling sounded from the passage. The guaras clawed and snarled. When Shon looked up to the ceiling again, there were more dark forms gathering. They moved along the walls as easily as the floor.

  Shon picked up a rock and flung it at the nearest beast. Matthu hurled another. Both met their mark, but neither guara fell.

  The larger guara on the ground snapped the other's neck and shook it like a rag doll. It flung it against the other wall and then turned to face them. This grounded guara was more than fifteen feet in length. Its jaws gaped, revealing dimly shining teeth.

  "Keep an eye above, Matthu." Shon darted forward and cracked the chainmail on the guara's snout.

  The guara snarled and recoiled. It then leaped forward. Shon and Matthu both dodged. Matthu brought his chainmail down on the creature's face once more, but it wasn't cutting. Shon grabbed a sharp rock. He flung it straight at the guara's eye.

  The guara snapped its jaws and howled. Matthu barely escaped its range. Shon slashed it across the face again with the chainmail.

  None of the other guaras were attacking. They simply gathered until the walls were agleam with dull red eyes.

  "What are they waiting for?" Matthu asked.

  "Don't know." Shon snapped up another rock and flung it at the guara. The only thing he could think of was that this was the alpha guara. Killing it would either make the others leave them alone or incite them to fury. Or this guara was supposed to soften them up like hook-fanged spiders sometimes did when they were uncertain about how dangerous their prey was. What was taking the Machat so long?

  The grounded guara lunged at Shon. He jumped out of the way but stumbled. Catching himself, he spun around and swung the chainmail out again. Matthu struck from the other side. It wasn't even damaging its eyes!

  The guara shook its head. Its snout didn't even look bruised. Rearing up once again, it threw its head back and roared.

  This time the other guaras took up the call. They roared too, their throaty voices shaking the rock walls.

  Shon's grip tightened. Definitely not good.

  The grounded guara remained several yards away, champing its jaws and glaring at them. It bellowed again. The walls shook, bits of rock tumbling as the guaras charged down the walls.

  Fear spiked through Shon. They couldn't kill even one!

  The door swung open, grating over the coarse stone. Light poured in, and a Machat girl, no older than fourteen, leaped through the doorway. She blasted a shrill note on a seven-holed flute.

  The guaras ducked their heads, writhing. The Machat girl grinned and danced back, leaving the way open for them. Another Machat with light-hazel hair and a deep scar across his left cheek motioned for them to hurry.

  Shon shoved Matthu toward the door and followed him. As soon as they were on the other side, eight Machat shoved the door shut.

  Shon gasped in a deep breath. Only now did the terror and fear rise within him. Sweat streamed down his forehead and back. The chainmail swung at his side, a few slate-blue scales hanging on it. "Wondered when you would get here."

  At least forty Machat stood in the large chamber. Irasso stepped through and clapped both Shon and Matthu on the shoulder, grinning. "Didn't want to cut your fun short. Looks like you both did well. Guaras aren't easy to kill."

  Matthu leaned against one of the coarse stone pillars. "We didn't kill even one."

  "Most can't. They have only three weak spots," Irasso said. "It's easier to restrain them than it is to kill them."

  "Too bad we didn't have any restraints," Shon said. He wiped his hand across his face. The adrenaline still surged in his veins and thundered in his ears. He forced a smile though.

  "You'll have that chance soon enough, my friend," Irasso responded. "But first, come, eat and drink. There is much to do."

  The Machat milled about, speaking to one another in hushed tones. They wore well-tailored garments that made them seem even smaller and slimmer than Shon expected. Several were winding ropes around their arms. A few fiddled with their flutes while others prepared darts and blowguns.

  "So what's the battle plan?" Shon asked.

  "For you to eat." A Machat woman thrust a thick-crusted loaf of bread into Shon's hands and another into Matthu's. "It isn't cardamom, and there's no honey butter. But you'll need your strength for what is planned."

  Shon took a mouthful of the yeasty bread. He looked up at the staircase. He wondered where Amelia was and whether she was all right. It hadn't been long. Perhaps—

  "The Third Nalenth is safe now," the Machat woman said. She tilted her head, studying Shon. "But in fairness to you, you should know that the Para of Eiram has already locked with her." She smirked. "He thought it would take longer, but nothing will go as he has planned. Your attempt to be her betrothed will only complicate matters. The odds of—"

  "Chialao!" Irasso glared at her as he returned. "You are old enough to know better than to share what is or what may be." He bowed his head to Shon. "My apologies. The one is speaking when she should not. These are not visions nor even foretellings she wishes to speak of. Only possibilities and rumors."

  Shon swallowed hard. What had she been about to say? And what did it mean that Naatos was locking with Amelia? None of this sounded good.

  Chialao's cheeks flushed. Even the marks on her cheeks and neck became a darker brown. "Forgive me."

  "It is forgiven. Be more cautious with your words. They are quite powerful." Ir
asso lifted his head as someone called him, then headed to the passage on the left. "What is it, Horasa?"

  Shon and Matthu exchanged glances. Chialao offered them waterskins. "My apologies."

  The tension still radiated through Shon. His imagination spun with countless possibilities of what might be. "You thought it was something I should know…" He knew better than this. He understood the chain of command, the importance of following rules and laws. But…Shon tore a piece of bread from the loaf but didn’t eat. "Why?"

  Chialao placed her hand on his chest. Her dark amber eyes widened, her pupils dilating. "Love grows slower in the heart of an Awdawm than in the heart of a Neyeb. Or at least it should. When it does not—" She pulled back abruptly. Her cheeks flushed as other Machat passed by, and some gave her sharp looks. "These Awdawms are so handsome," she said, louder this time. "It is hard not to be enamored." She pressed her fingers to her palms.

  Another young Machat, perhaps even a little younger than Chialao, approached her. He took her hand in his. They whispered back and forth.

  Matthu frowned, chewing his bread in contemplation. "This is strange."

  "That Amelia and I fell in love?" Shon forced himself to take another bite. The bread sat like lead in his stomach.

  "It wasn't so bad at first. But then. I don't know. You shouldn't have said you were her betrothed. It didn't…" Matthu's voice faltered as Shon shot his brother a silencing glare.

  Matthu ducked his head. "I don't know. Maybe she'll take WroOth hostage again." He forced a laugh.

  Shon followed suit, but his thoughts remained troubled. "I doubt that'll work. It didn’t work last time." He fell silent as he watched the Machat. They were all working together on various projects, some coming, some going. But more and more were entering this chamber.