Unity: The Todor Trilogy, Book Three

by Jenna Newell Hiott

  “That training served you well today,” Soman interjected.

  “It was my training under Gemynd that served me today,” Tatparo said, his jaw clenching a little tighter. “The other thing I remember about life in Tolnick was the sound of crying babies. But it was even worse when the sound would stop. Every night, babies were put outside to die because they could not be fed. When the crying stopped, it only meant another life had ended.”

  “I knew Tolnick was troubled, but I had no idea it was so bad.”

  “Toa is the only worthwhile remaining part of my life in Tolnick. She saved my life,” Tatparo continued and smiled at his sister. “I had gone outside of the city to forage for food one morning. When I came back that afternoon, my mother, father, and younger brother all lay dead in a slum alley. I never learned who killed them or why, but I am certain that food had something to do with it. I found a pile of horse scitte mucked from a stable and lay down on it. I was so hungry, I knew death would come soon. As I lay there, all I could think about was the way my mother’s hair had fallen into the open sewer when she died. And how I left it there. I was too weak to even look after my families’ bodies.”

  Soman shuddered. His own youth had been idyllic in Aerie. He had never known the horrors Tatparo described and he was certain he would not have known what to do with his families’ bodies either. “You did your best, Tatparo,” he said, hoping to comfort the young man.

  Tatparo looked at Soman. “The truth is, I didn’t care enough to try.” There was no trace of emotion in his voice as though he’d told the story a hundred times. “I had lost the will to live, plain and simple. I laid down on that scitte to die, but instead, I merely fell asleep. And when I awoke, I held a baby girl in my arms. There was no sign of who had put her there, but I knew with a certainty I’d never had before, that it was my duty to care for her. Holding her gave me the will to live again. From the beginning, she never showed any fear so I called her Toa, which had been my family’s word for ‘brave’.”

  Soman looked at the pair. Tatparo with his black hair and warm, brown skin. Toa with her yellow hair and pinkish skin. The two did not bear even the slightest resemblance to one another. Soman felt humbled by Tatparo’s devotion to one who was not his own. “I am honored to know someone of your ilk,” he said. “Not many in your position would have taken on another mouth to feed. Especially one you had no relation to.”

  “It is I who am honored to have the chance to care for her. There is something very special about her.”

  Soman did not know the child well, but he had to agree with Tatparo. She had Iturtian glinting powers, yet looked nothing like any of the other Iturtians he’d seen, except for her dark eyes.

  Numa suddenly appeared on the wallwalk with one arm wrapped protectively around Molly. She wore Iturtian clothing, her hair pulled back and twisted into a tight spiral, and the right side of her face was splattered with blood. Her eyes met Soman’s for only an instant before she released Molly and dropped down by Gemynd’s side.

  “Please wake, my love,” Numa said and rested her palm against Gemynd’s cheek. “I need you now. I need you to hold me and reassure me that all will be well.”

  Soman watched a tear roll down her cheek, clearing a path through the blood. “Numa, come here.” He reached through the Uruz bars as Tatparo pulled his sister out of the way. Any remaining anger Soman may have felt towards Numa vanished, and all he knew was that he wanted to take away her pain.

  Numa looked over her shoulder, then stood and fell against the cage. Soman wrapped his arms around her as best as he could through the bars. “All will be well,” he said and rubbed his hands down her back, trying to still her trembling.

  “I know what it means to kill, Soman.” Her voice was worn and ragged. “Todor is at war, Molly is the only surviving Terrene, and I did not save a single Zobanite.”

  “You did your best,” Soman said, repeating the words he’d said to Tatparo only moments before. “Together we will find a way to peace. I’m sure there are more Terrenes somewhere in Todor, just as there are more Zobanite soldiers in Zoban. All is not lost.”

  Numa pulled back and looked into Soman’s eyes. “I thought you’d be angry with me for putting you in this cage. And for going along with Gemynd’s plan to control the people, and for calling myself queen of Todor.”

  “I was,” Soman answered then smiled. “But the carus has taught me a few things.”

  Numa’s eyes grew wide and she spun around. “She spoke to you? Where is she?”

  Soman leaned over to look around Numa. “She was here only moments ago,” he said, not finding any trace of Radine.

  Numa turned back around and leaned her head against the cage. “Soman, every time that woman appears, something terrible happens. I must create my vision or she will destroy it all.”

  “Radine is the one destroying Todor?”

  “She claims it’s not her, but she always seems to be present around the time it’s happening.”

  “She’s not here now,” Soman said, wanting to see calm return to Numa’s face. “What do you need to do to complete your vision?”

  Numa sighed heavily. “Restore peace,” she said. “We must get Zobanites and Iturtians alike to forgive those who warred against them today. And somehow we must have the people genuinely cheer for the three of us. Right now, I don’t know how to do any of it.”

  “We will figure it out.” Soman glanced at Gemynd’s unconscious form. Radine’s touch had allowed him to forgive Gemynd for all that he’d done since Golath’s death, and now he was filled with love and compassion for his friend. For all that Soman would have done differently, he knew that Gemynd was doing his best, too. “The three of us will figure it out, together.”

  Numa smiled then and, for a moment, all was right in Todor. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

  “Now, will you let me out of this cage?”

  Instantly, the cage vanished and Soman pulled Numa into his arms. “I couldn’t hold you properly before,” he said, pressing his cheek against the top of her head. “Queen Numa, my purpose is to serve you. Where would you like me to begin?”

  Another tear spilled down Numa’s cheek and her lips trembled. “I need you to speak with your father. He refuses to give me permission to speak with him myself and I cannot release him from his cage until I know his plans.”

  Soman glanced in the direction of Archigadh’s cage. He knew his father was overcome with grief, and his reaction would be impossible to predict. “I will see what I can find out.”

  “I will give you five minutes with him, then I’m bringing you back here. We cannot delay the lighting of the pyres any longer than that,” Numa said, then Soman was suddenly inside the other Uruz cage on the far wallwalk.

  The great Chief Archigadh sat slumped in a corner, his face buried in his hands. The once proud and noble man now appeared broken and dejected.

  “Father, I am here,” Soman said as he knelt down beside Archigadh.

  The Chief lifted his head and blinked at Soman. A tear fell from the corner of his eye. “How could you put yourself willingly in a cage?” he asked, the thunder gone from his voice.

  “To speak with you. To make sure you are well.”

  “My people were slaughtered and I was rendered useless. I am far from well, lad.”

  “As you told me after Aerie was destroyed, your grief will heal little by little, moment by moment. But for now, there is work to be done. Numa simply wants your word that you will not seek vengeance, then she will let you out of this cage. We need you to join us outside the city to send our dead to the Viyii.”

  “I will not go where that she-witch bids me,” Archigadh growled.

  “Why are you blaming Numa?” Soman leaned back, startled by his father’s rancor. “She fought for the Zobanites. She killed Iturtians to protect them.”

  “Yet she did not
protect them,” Archigadh snapped. “She fought some Iturtians, yet allied with others. She trapped the two of us in cages while our people were massacred.”

  “She wanted to protect us.” Soman understood his father’s anger, yet could not stop himself from jumping to Numa’s defense. “You are alive because of her.”

  “They depended on us to lead them!” Archigadh shouted, the thunder returning. “Because of her, we failed our people. Do you truly think I care more about being alive than helping my people?”

  Soman sighed. He recognized his father’s guilt. His own heart had ached with it moments ago. “They died well, in battle,” he said softly. “I understand your pain, Father. If I had not been caged, I could have killed every last Iturtian. I strengthened my will and cannot be controlled by an Iturtian ever again. I know full well the difference I could have made for Zobanites today. I was angry, too, until I came to see that Numa made the best decision for Todor. I trust her to lead all of us, Father.”

  “My son, I am the Chief of the Zobanites and you are the leader of our forces.” Archigadh straightened and stood, now towering over Soman. “You must face the truth that we are at war. We will not hide here with the enemy. Together we will find a way out of this cage and go home, back to Zoban. And there we will gather what’s left of our army and march them to victory against Iturtia.”

  Soman looked up at his father and felt a rupture deep in his being. His father was no longer in favor of Numa’s vision of Todor. He would lead the rest of the Zobanite soldiers into war just as he said. “Let us lead Zoban to follow Numa.” Soman stood, too, looking the Chief in the eye. “Through helping her create her vision, we are all the victors. It is not necessary to believe we are at war.”

  “You know we cannot take that risk with our people.” Archigadh took a deep breath. “Numa had her chance to create her vision of Todor, and she failed. We cannot continue to subject Zobanites to that peril. We will do as generations of Zobanites have done before us and fight. We will fight for Todor. And we will win.”

  “Have you forgotten what you witnessed today?” Soman realized he was shouting. “Zobanites cannot win! Without Numa, we have no Uruz wood, and we cannot win a battle without it. You must know that, Chief.”

  “We can fight long enough to put a Terrene on the throne and restore order to the land.”

  “There is only one Terrene left in all of Todor,” Soman said, realizing his father was unaware of that truth. “Molly is the only one left. There are no Terrenes to fight for, and there are no Terrenes worthy of the crown. Todor cannot go back to the old ways.”

  Archigadh looked down as a sudden breeze blew his hair across his face. “Then you will be king, lad. You will rule for the Zobanites and we will war against anyone who tries to stop us. You just told me that you cannot be controlled by Iturtians. You are more powerful than them now and they know it. Now that I think of it, there has never been a better choice for ruler of Todor.”

  Soman pinched his eyes closed. He had no desire to rule anything. His only desire was to serve Numa. “Numa is the best choice to rule Todor,” he said and clenched his jaw as he readied himself for his next words. “My loyalty is to her. If I have to choose between Zobanites and Numa, I choose Numa.”

  Archigadh grabbed Soman by the shoulders and looked deep into his eyes. “You are choosing someone who will never choose you in return, son. She will choose Gemynd over you time and again, just as she will choose Iturtia over Zoban.”

  “I would never ask her to choose me,” Soman said. “I know her heart well, and I know that she does not choose Iturtia over Zoban. She chooses what’s best for Todor. Numa has my total devotion.”

  Archigadh lifted his chin. He looked simultaneously proud and enraged. “Go to her, then,” he said, his voice now cold. “Tell her to release me from this cage and send me, and my dead, back to Zoban. You have made your choice clear, lad, and I shall consider you Zobanite no more.”

  “I am still Zobanite,” Soman began to protest but then was suddenly standing on the other wallwalk next to Numa.

  “What did Archigadh say?” she asked.

  “He wants you to send him and the dead Zobanites to Zoban.” Soman tried his best not to let his anger and sadness show.

  “He blames me.”

  “He wants to make war.”

  Numa sighed. “I understand,” she said and took hold of Soman’s hand. “Thank you for speaking to him.”

  “The pyres have begun burning,” Molly called as she gazed over the parapet.

  “I must address the people now.” Numa took a deep breath. She kept a tight hold on Soman’s hand, then moved everyone but Gemynd down to the pyres outside the city square. Toa insisted on being as near to Numa as possible, so the new queen spoke to the crowd with a child on her hip.

  “There are no words of comfort in a time like this,” she said. “All of you here now are Iturtians. All but Soman. My dear friends, you have much to grieve today. Know that my heart is with you. I have sent the fallen Zobanites to Zoban as the Chief requested so they will begin their journey to the Viyii from there. I am sorry that I could not do more to save them. For all Iturtians here, you must surely be feeling guilt, confusion, and fear along with your grief. Know that you fought bravely today and served Todor well. Although many of your slain kin were the enemy today, let us send them to the Viyii with honor for the warriors that they were.”

  Those who had been Aerites in the crowd chanted the traditional blessing of the dead. All others remained silent. In Zoban, the fallen would be sent to the Viyii with a grand celebration of their lives. There would be feasting, and Joy would be shared along with grief. As Soman looked at the stricken faces in the crowd before him, he longed to be in Zoban.

  The pyres burned for what felt like hours. The smell of smoke and burning flesh filled the air. Soman blinked sleepily as he watched the plumes of smoke make ever-changing patterns against the darkening sky.

  “Queen Numa, let me take Toa for a while,” Tatparo said, his voice a welcome break from the silence. “Your arms must be tired.”

  Numa looked down at the child sleeping against her chest and nodded. “We must find a way to wake Gemynd,” she said as she handed Toa to Tatparo. “Soman, what do you think was in the cup you gave him? Did it smell like anything you recognized?”

  “Perhaps morningbell juice mixed with something else, but I can’t be sure. It truly happened too fast for me to remember.”

  “How I wish Keeper Sam was here. He would surely know of some concoction we could use to wake him.” Numa wrung her hands and paced back and forth.

  Soman wanted to comfort her, but he had no idea how to wake Gemynd. “I could go in search of Sam,” he offered. “Truthfully, I’d like to find him before Gemynd does anyway.”

  “If you do go looking for Sam, may I come along?” Molly asked, clearly overhearing their conversation from her place in the crowd.

  “I must keep you with me,” Numa said to her. “You are the last Terrene and I must make sure you are safe.”

  Suddenly the Great Carus appeared in the smoke and as it moved towards Numa, it swirled into the shape of a woman. “Your first day as queen was marred with a battle,” Radine said and glanced back at the smoldering piles that had been the pyres. “So much death here today.”

  Soman saw the muscles in Numa’s jaw flexing. “You caused all of this by putting Gemynd to sleep.”

  “Numa, my dear, why must we have the same conversation over and over again? Any and all destruction in Todor is the result of your failure to make your vision of Todor a reality. I know that you and your people have endured a great deal and I wish the suffering would end. I have made many opportunities for you to remove your greatest obstacle and create your vision, but you have squandered them all. This version of Todor is an utter mess and must be destroyed.”

  Numa looked in every direction, cl
early trying to find any way to keep her people safe. Soman’s instincts to protect Numa flared and he took a menacing step towards Radine. She smiled at him and he instantly realized he was powerless to stop her. “How can I help you, Numa?” he asked, not knowing what else to do.

  Before Numa could answer, Radine took a long, loud, deep breath. As she did, her form began to grow. She grew until she was taller than Tolnick’s walls, and kept growing well beyond the top of the keep. She grew until all Soman could see of her was the wispy outline of the hem of her dress.

  And then the wind began.

  Soman heard the howl of it first, but then the air was suddenly filled with ashes and dust. Tatparo sheltered Toa protectively in his arms and Numa grabbed hold of Molly’s wrist. “I must get the people to safety,” Numa shouted to be heard over the wind.

  “There are tunnels beneath the keep that lead to a dungeon far below,” Molly said and Soman exchanged a look of surprise with Numa. “I am certain we will all be safe from the wind there.”

  Numa turned to Tatparo. “Get permission from your people for me to send them there.”

  Tatparo closed his eyes, his hair whipping around his head. Soman watched as a small stick flew through the air and became entangled in it. “It is done.”

  Numa nodded. “Toa, Tatparo, Molly, Soman, give me your permission now.”

  Before anyone could comply, the wind’s fury increased tenfold. The dirt in the air made it hard to breathe and impossible to see. Soman could now hear large objects flying through the air around them. He planted his feet in a wide stance and pulled Numa and Molly against him with his right arm. With his left arm, he took Toa from Tatparo and held her tight.

  Tatparo grabbed hold of Soman’s wrist, but his grip slipped as the fierce wind pulled him back. Suddenly, Tatparo’s feet were in the air, his body flailing and the only thing keeping him in place was the fistful of Soman’s garment he held in one hand.

  “Hold on!” Soman shouted at Tatparo, then he looked down at Numa’s upturned face. “Numa, you must take us all to the dungeon with the others. Hurry, before the wind takes them!”