Tulana threw up one of her hands. The air got heavy, but nothing happened to Lilia. The ward was too powerful.
“I could kill you now,” Lilia said. Her voice was steady. She placed her hands on the table. Her hands were steady.
Tulana huffed out a long breath. The expression she set on Lilia then made Lilia’s stomach turn. She had never seen so much hatred in a person’s face.
“Aren’t you supposed to fuck each other to work out disagreements?”
“Will you do it, or should I kill you here?”
Tulana grimaced. “Don’t expect miracles.”
“That’s exactly what I expect,” Lilia said. “The Dhai will look for a miracle to save them. And I will give them a miracle.”
Dawn.
The time of miracles.
Lilia chewed mahuan root. Tulana stood beside her, with Voralyn and Amelia just behind, and Laralyn at the back, holding Tasia’s hand. They stood on a slight rise looking out at the broad camp of the Tai Mora army. The army had burned out the wooded area for half a mile in every direction and set their camp right on it. Compared to the vast army Lilia had glimpsed when she crossed to the other side, they were a small force, but by Dhai standards, the rows and rows of tents and cook fires were overwhelming, a pustulous plague of at least a thousand, including support personnel. Lilia and the Seekers had hidden from four scouting parties. The scouts were going house to house, killing everyone within and stealing whatever wasn’t bolted down.
“Spectacle,” Tulana said.
“People fear spectacles,” Lilia said. “Spectacles can be shocking.” She remembered the smoke that poured over them as they fled from the harbor. A needless spectacle.
“We have no advantage.”
“They want Dhai intact,” Lilia said. “The less damage, the better. They may be stealing and killing, but they aren’t burning out the houses or the gardens, did you notice? Just the roads, and the harbor gate. It’s why they sent smoke after us but not fire. They aren’t here to pillage. They’re going to make this their home.”
Tulana tugged at her coat. “No one will agree to your plan. No one in their right mind would destroy their own country.”
“It’s just things,” Lilia said. “Not people. If we destroy what they came for, we thwart them, don’t we?”
“You need some adults to knock sense into you.”
“Once we get to the clearing, you need to–”
“I remember,” Tulana said. “We’ll do it.
“There won’t be much time before–”
“This isn’t my first tumble, girl,” Tulana said. “Trickery won’t get you far.”
“It only needs to get me past the army,” Lilia said.
They had discussed a route around the army, endlessly, but the army was running patrols now, keeping anyone from coming into or going out of the massive protective parajista barriers that had been deployed around the hold. The refugees caught outside the walls of Kuallina but inside the parajista barrier could see eye to eye with the Tai Mora while they slept.
Lilia stepped away from them. She was wrapped in a bubble of Para’s breath deployed by Amelia. She walked unchallenged to the edge of the camp, heart pounding. There was no mistaking what she was now. They would know her the moment they saw her.
And they did.
She strode out past the trees, holding a blazing willowthorn weapon aloft, infused by Voralyn while they waited on the rise overlooking the ramp.
“Disperse!” Lilia said, and she could not imagine what she looked like in that moment; some twisted, mad figure, holding a flaming brand. “Disperse or my army will rout you!”
As they had at Liona, the Seekers amplified her voice. It rolled over the camp like some thunderous god’s.
Heads looked up from campfires, and peered out from tents. The army scrambled, a hive of angry bees. A horde of them attacked her outright. She held her ground. Did not budge as they swarmed her barrier.
“Get the jistas!” someone yelled.
Infused weapons uncurled from their wrists. The last time Lilia saw a weapon like that, it was hacking up her mother’s body.
She strode further into the camp. The huff of air around her pushed away the crowd of soldiers before they could reach her. “Those who stand will meet the wrath of my army,” Lilia yelled, and she felt profoundly foolish for a long moment. She sounded like a fool from some dramatic Dorinah opera.
Then came the illusion.
It winked into existence on the other side of Kuallina, a shimmering oval mirror half the size of the fortress, bleeding red light across the whole field. Lilia squinted into it. It was far brighter than she anticipated. The bloody light lit the whole field. It was then that they believed. It was then that they cowered.
How many other worlds were in play, now? She didn’t know. They didn’t either. She could be anyone, from anywhere, with as much power as she pretended.
But not for long.
“Jistas!”
A buffet of air smashed into her protective shield. She felt it vibrate. How long Laralyn held it… well, the Seekers would not sob if she died terribly in this moment.
The mirror illusion trembled. Red light burst across the field, and inside the face of the mirror was a foreign landscape – a Dorinah one, most likely, considering its maker – and a vast army decked in Dorinah armor and red plumes so realistic that Lilia feared for a long moment it was real, and that the Seekers had tricked her.
But the edges of the illusion shimmered. She knew it for what it was, so she pushed on, weapon raised, yelling at them about the mighty power of her army.
The lines nearest the mirror broke. She saw them turn. She screamed louder, flashing the sword about like it was the thing controlling the vast army about to crush them.
“Regroup!”
She heard it from the same direction as the mirror. “Regroup!”
Flags went up, great red and blue and purple standards waving left, right twice, then three times. The massive army peeled away from Lilia.
She swung her weapon again, flat out at her left side, the signal for the Seekers to advance.
Lilia did not wait to see if the Seekers broke from the trees to follow her, but strode purposefully across the scattered camp.
Every cry of “Jistas!” made her stomach knot, but she went on. They would uncover the ruse any moment. Once the jistas were assembled they would be able to see it and untangle it.
She hurried. Members of the army ran into her barrier, and fell back, shocked. She could see their faces now, faces of every shape and hue. Tall men, broad-shouldered women, scraggly youths, even children and camp followers, their hair braided nearly as intricately as a Dorinah’s. Some of the camp followers wore leather chokers, and she wondered if they were slaves, but the army was, no doubt, free. Fighting willingly because not fighting meant dying under a burning star on a doomed world.
Would Lilia have died over there, or would she have fought? In some other world she was camped here among these people, fleeing certain death.
“I would have fought!” she yelled, aloud, and realized that much of what she’d been thinking she’d been spouting out at the people rushing around her.
When she came to the other side of the camp, her throat was sore, and her feet ached. She needed a hunk of mahuan root. She dug about for one in her bag.
The barrier around her shook. She saw a man on the other side hacking at her shield with a great infused blade. Blue light sparked from the weapon. She stared at him from her side of the barrier, fascinated, like watching some deadly animal worry at a cage.
What would she do, when he burst through?
She put the mahuan root into her mouth and chewed slowly while contemplating his efforts. He did not look like the Tai Mora. He was broad and flat-featured, with sallow skin and curly black hair knotted in white ribbons. He looked very hungry. And his eyes…
Lilia stepped forward, to the edge of the barrier, and peered at him. He hacked dire
ctly at the barrier in front of her face. She did not flinch.
“Do your worst,” she whispered. “I am going to outlast you.”
“Jistas!”
A flurry of flags, again.
Now that she was close enough to the barrier around Kuallina, she saw curious Dhai peering at her. She shifted her attention to them.
Another soldier ran by, grabbing the one assaulting her, and they plunged back toward the illusion of the mirror.
Lilia walked right up to the edge of the barrier around Kuallina.
Tulana came up behind her, tall and regal in the afternoon light. “You sold that spectacularly,” she said. “I think they feared you more than whatever was going to come out of that mirror.”
Lilia did not say that desperation and madness were sisters, that one often led to the other. She just nodded, and called to the people on the other side of the parajista barrier.
“I am Lilia Sona!” she said, and Tulana raised her hand, palm up, and the voice carried. “I’ve come back from the walls of the harbor with a message for the Kai.”
“I can try and force it open,” Laralyn said, glancing back at the camp. The mirror image was still pouring fake soldiers onto the field, but it would not be much longer before the army realized they were merely illusions.
“Hold,” Lilia said. “If we fight them, they’ll see us as the enemy.”
She almost laughed, and had to cover her mouth. The enemy. What did that mean, anymore?
The parajistas opened a sliver in the barrier and let them through. Someone in there must have vouched for her. Ghrasia, maybe. Lilia stumbled on the other side. Tulana caught her arm, and kept her upright as waves of refugees swarmed forward. Lilia stiffened, suddenly terrified they would tear her apart for losing them the harbor.
“Faith!” they called. “Faith! Faith!”
They raised their hands and their voices. The chant rolled out across the disheveled swarms of people camped all around the hold. As she walked forward, they did not overtake her, but moved out of her way. Children ran to the front.
Tasia came from Laralyn’s side and grabbed her hand. She gazed up at her with wide, awestruck eyes. “Are you really Faith Ahya?” she said.
Lilia did not answer. She moved through the crowd until she saw a woman so familiar it brought tears to her eyes. She came up short, thinking she was imagining her.
“Emlee,” Lilia said.
The old woman clucked at her and moved toward her from the crowd. She looked terribly frail, but when Lilia took her hand, Emlee’s grip was firm and warm. “What have you done out here? What’s happened to you?”
“I was trying to save people.”
“How can a child do that, when she has not yet saved herself?” Emlee said.
“I didn’t think you’d come. I thought you were dead.”
“I nearly was. The rest of us followed after you, eventually. Got caught up in the madness at Liona. I’m not much of a healer without my people. And there are plenty of us here now.”
“What’s been happening?” Lilia asked. For the first time in many weeks, she felt like a child again. It was comforting, looking to the adults for answers.
“They say there’s another army coming, from Liona. Not ours.”
“How is that possible?”
“Does Gian know you’re alive, or Cora?”
Lilia shook her head. “I haven’t seen them. Do you know–”
“Inside,” Emlee said, and her expression darkened. “Gian went inside at the head of the first wave. She said you were dead. It’s been yelled all through camp for days. She has the Catori’s ear, now.”
Lilia frowned. “I’m sure she’ll be pleased to see me.”
“I’m sure,” Emlee said, and she squeezed Lilia’s hand when she said it, but it was not a reassuring grip. It was a knowing one. “You are very deep into this, Lilia,” she continued softly. “Where is your sanisi?”
“It’s all very complicated,” Lilia said. “Will you come inside with me?”
“No, my work is here,” Emlee said. “But when the call started I wanted to see… I wanted to make sure it was you. The true one.”
Lilia made her way to the gates. The sally port was open, letting supply carts through to feed those scattered outside, but there were eight militia guarding the single entry, ensuring those outside didn’t come in.
As she approached, the sea of refugees parting before her, the militia straightened. Gaped.
“Take me to Ghrasia Madah,” she said. “I’m Lilia Sona. She will know who I am.”
Silence. Confused looks. Finally, the nearest one said, “Ghrasia is not here. Catori Mohrai is in charge of Kuallina.”
“Then take me to her. She’ll know who I am, too.”
“Our orders are–”
“Should I tell these people you won’t admit me?” Lilia said. “Should I tell them Oma’s most gifted jista is being kept at the gate?” She thought to make a threat to use Oma against them, but with Tulana and the other Seekers behind her, it felt even crueler. Empty words. Empty threats. Without access to Oma, her power rested entirely with the people behind her, and power like that, so difficult to gain, was very easy to lose.
They took her inside, and across the crowded courtyard. The Dhai from the surrounding clans had been given access to the interior of Kuallina. They wore the shorter haircuts and uniform clothing of residents. Lilia felt a needling annoyance at that. She suspected many of the Dhai from the camp had arrived here ahead of the locals, but would not have been permitted past the gates.
She told Tulana and the others to stay in the yard with Tasia, though Tasia begged to go up with her. “You can look for your parents here,” Lilia said, and gave Laralyn a long look. Laralyn grimaced, but took the girl’s hand and pulled her away. If Tasia’s parents survived, they would be here. Lilia was uncertain of the likelihood of that. She had no idea about losses yet.
Two militia escorted her upstairs into the heart of the hold. Kuallina was an old hold, built the same way as the temples. When Lilia put her hands to the walls she could almost feel it breathe.
She had thought Liona felt crowded, stuffed far past capacity, but that was nothing compared to Kuallina. The sheer weight of humanity around her was stifling. She was irritable, claustrophobic, but she could breathe and walk more or less straight, with just a little dragging of her bad leg, and that was something. She pulled the wad of mahuan pulp from her mouth and put it into her pocket. Her head was starting to swim.
They ushered her into a little room, more like a storage closet, and told her to wait. For the first time, Lilia felt some trepidation. Was she a criminal now? Was this prison?
She paced, walking around the room in a discrete circle, running through her argument again and again.
The door opened thirty minutes later. Mohrai pushed in, mouth firm. “What do you want?” she said. “I thought you were dead at the wall.”
“I need to speak to Ghrasia,” Lilia said. “If you plan to hold up here, the plan is flawed.”
“Ghrasia is dead,” Mohrai said. “She died at Liona.”
“What?”
“Liona has fallen,” Mohrai said. “We have two armies coming directly here. The one from the harbor and the one from Dorinah, the one that breached Liona.”
“We can’t stay here,” Lilia said. “I brought Seekers with me. They are trained in war. We can use them as a diversion to plot a course to the woodland, but we must destroy everything behind us. If we burn out the stores in Kuallina and the clans, we leave them nothing to live on. If we–”
“The Kai is coming here by Lift. He’ll be here within the hour. He’ll decide how much of your nonsense is worth listening to. I told him not to send you to the harbor. I told him I–”
“Then I will take the Dhai from the camps,” Lilia said, not wanting to argue in this little room. “I will take them west, into the woodland. The army won’t be able to follow us there. They can try to burn us out, but the geogr
aphy–”
“We won’t all become refugees like you,” Mohrai said. “This is our home. You wouldn’t understand that.”
“It’s my home too.”
“Is it? Are you certain?”
Lilia firmed her jaw. “My plan would have worked,” she said. “You were in charge of the harbor, and it fell. It was nothing to do with me. The Oras were untrained. The militia was not ready. And we still don’t know why they attacked as soon as they did. Their emissary was still at Oma's Temple. Not even you suspected an attack without warning.”
“We’ll never know, will we?” Mohrai said. “Ahkio was a fool to send you to the harbor, and we were foolish to listen to you. If we–”
“Don’t blame me for this,” Lilia said.
Mohrai said, “Things are exceedingly grim here, and you–”
“Catori?” said someone outside the door. “The Kai is here.”
“Stay here,” Mohrai said, and shut the door.
Lilia leaned against the far wall and slid to the floor. Her fate was in the hands of someone else, again. She did not like these talks. Talking, talking, when what she wanted, what she needed, was to act.
It was more than an hour before someone came for her, and then she suspected they might just feed her, or kick her out. It was a young novice. Lilia recognized her – she was a companion of the Kai.
“I’m Caisa,” she said. “The Kai has asked you up.”
But they did not go up, they went down to a broad dining room where the Kai stood, his back to the windows – a foolish position, Lilia thought – as well as Mohrai, and half a dozen faces she did not recognize.
“What happened?” the Kai asked.
Lilia told him. Not just their original plan, and what happened at the wall, but how she had escaped, and awed the army into letting her through. What she didn’t tell him was that she had burned out. If she told him that, she feared Mohrai would throttle her right on the table. When she was finished, he did not look at her, but the vast map of Dhai on the table.
Into the silence, Mohrai said, “I really think–”
“Give me a moment, Mohrai,” he said.
Lilia wanted to clasp and unclasp her hands again, but stilled them. She stood as straight as she could.
The Worldbreaker Saga Omnibus Page 86