“Shao Taigan,” Ahkio said.
Taigan inclined his head. “You live.”
“As do you. This is Catori Yisaoh.”
“We met very briefly.”
“I remember you,” Yisaoh said, curling a lip. She had something in her hand; a cigarette butt, unlit. Where were they getting Tordinian cigarettes out here? “You were skulking about Garika.”
“I’m glad I’m memorable,” Taigan said.
“And this is Catori Meyna.”
“Two Catoris?” Taigan said, amused. “I’m surprised there aren’t more. Always good to have redundancies.”
“There were,” Yisaoh said, coolly. “Catori Mohrai has died.”
“That sounds very tragic,” Taigan said.
Luna was already tugging at Taigan’s sleeve. “What is it?” Taigan asked.
Ze stared at Yisaoh. “She… I’ll tell you later. But, it’s important.”
“Who is this with you?” Meyna asked.
“I’m Luna,” ze said. “Taigan and I know each other from Saiduan.”
“You said you have information?” Ahkio gestured for them to sit.
The weight of the attention from the circle of jistas made the air thick. Taigan sat across from the Kai, and Luna sat next to him, balling up hir hands into fists in hir lap.
Taigan leaned back in his chair and observed the three figures at the table. Yisaoh leaned away from them. Ahkio’s hands trembled slightly, and he pulled them from the table. Meyna was most confident. She had the intense black stare of a woman with a plan she was already in the midst of rolling out.
When he spoke, it was to Meyna. “Luna was working with a number of your scholars in the north. Ze discovered what it is the Tai Mora want with the temples, and how to use them.”
“We know the Tai Mora have plans to close the ways between the worlds,” Meyna said. “But that’s none of our concern.”
“Isn’t it?” Taigan said. “I bring you the knowledge of how to do far more than that.”
Meyna shook her head. “It’s not in our interests, what she’s doing. We have come to a decision to leave Dhai.”
That surprised him. He looked to the Kai, who nodded. “Meyna and I discussed it at length. This is not a conflict that is winnable if we want to remain true Dhai.”
“Pacifists, you mean,” Taigan said. “That is true.”
Ahkio nodded. “We have already committed many crimes in the face of this conflict. If we want to continue, to rebuild, it is time for us to leave Dhai.”
“I can’t imagine that is going over well with those who follow little Lilia.”
Meyna and Ahkio exchanged a look. Yisaoh snorted and tried to light her cigarette stub with a fire pod.
“Lilia is no longer with us,” Meyna said. “Even if she were, she is not a Catori. Her wishes have no part in the decisions we make here.”
“Dead, then?” Taigan said.
“Dead to me,” Meyna said. “Her actions put all of us in danger.”
Taigan rolled that over. Interesting. “How do you intend to get away from the Tai Mora?” he asked. “They have you pinned here against the sea.”
“We are not trapped,” Meyna said. “I am working with the Woodland Dhai, and some Saiduan refugees who washed ashore over the winter. In return for helping them rebuild their ships, we will go with them.”
“A fine and simple plan,” Taigan said, “if you trust Woodland Dhai and the Saiduan.”
“We share a common enemy,” Meyna said.
Luna raised hir gaze from hir lap. “You can’t outrun the Tai Mora,” she said. “They’ll find you, if they want to. And what they could choose to do to the world with all the power they could wield… it’s far more than just keeping other worlds from coming here. They could reshape everything. Grow a mountain right out of the ground, or have the sea wash you away, wherever you are. You can’t run.”
Meyna said, “What’s your name again?”
“Luna.”
“Luna. You speak with a Saiduan accent, Luna.”
“You speak with a Dhai accent.”
“This is Dhai, you silly little thing.”
“Best tell the Tai Mora that, then.”
Taigan smirked. He wanted to pat Luna’s precious little head. “If we cannot work together, then we will part ways,” he said.
“And how do I know you won’t give us up to the Tai Mora?” Meyna said.
“What motive would I have for that?”
“You could be their emissary.”
“I invite you to attempt to stop me from leaving. It would be a very fine show. Your people have had, perhaps, a year to train your little Oras and novices in the fighting arts. In my country, we did not separate our physical fighters from our gifted ones. And I have been fighting for longer than anyone in this whole blighted little refugee camp has been alive.”
“We aren’t refugees,” Ahkio said. “This is our country.”
“You are refugees,” Taigan said. “This is not your country. The sooner you all understand that, the easier it will be on you. By all appearances you’ve sat about here squawking and arguing and doing nothing for a year but dying, getting picked off by Tai Mora. It’s a wonder any of you are still alive at all. One raging case of yellow pox comes through here and the temples, and you’re all dead, finished, the Dhai race extinguished. You are already a memory, a footnote in some history book.”
“Then why are you here?” Ahkio said.
A cry came from behind them. Taigan peered around Ahkio and saw a young girl burst through the line of jistas. She could not have been more than five or six years old, a fat-cheeked girl with dark hair, soft chin, and luminous eyes.
Yisaoh hurried over to her. “Go back, Tasia.”
“Is she here?” the girl asked. “Is she back?”
With the others’ attention shifted, Luna leaned toward Taigan. “That woman, Catori Yisaoh, and the child. I’ve seen them both before.”
“All Dhai look alike.”
“No, on another world. Where that woman, Kirana, is keeping her family.”
Taigan raised his brows.
Luna lowered hir voice further. “The names are even the same. Yisaoh, the Empress’s consort, and Tasia, one of the Empress’s children. They can’t come over.”
“Interesting,” Taigan said.
Yisaoh passed the child off to one of the jistas, who took her back below ground.
“I apologize,” Ahkio said. “The children get restless.”
“I’ve no doubt,” Taigan said.
“If you believe us bested already,” Ahkio continued, “why bother with us?”
Taigan snorted. “I didn’t come for you. I was looking for the crippled girl. She had more sense and more backbone than the rest of you. A pity.” He stood. “If you will do nothing to alter the course of this cycle, then we are working at cross-purposes. I will find other allies.”
Luna sighed.
Ahkio stood as well. Meyna turned to confer with the men behind her. Yisaoh gave up trying to light her cigarette and stuffed it back into her pocket.
“It is a shame Lilia isn’t here,” Ahkio said. “I know the two of you did not get along, but she had become a great ally to you.”
“Oh it’s fine,” Taigan said. “She has a head for strategy, but it’s true she has been far less useful since she burned out. I had hoped, however, you all would share her determination to stop the Tai Mora instead of running from them. I suspect she’s off doing something you don’t approve of, like finding a way to murder a bunch of Tai Mora.”
There was a strange shift. Yisaoh blurted, “Burned out?”
“At the harbor,” Taigan said. “Ages ago. You didn’t know?”
Meyna shook her head. “You must be joking. The dajians worship her.”
“Don’t use that word,” Ahkio said.
Yisaoh said, “Lilia isn’t gifted? Is this a Saiduan joke?”
“Not gifted! That drink-addled roach!” Meyna said.
“You said something of Saiduan refugees here,” Taigan said. “Where? They have more fight left in them than the Dhai.”
“You are welcome to speak to them,” Ahkio said, “but you’ll find that they, too, are done fighting. Another two days northwest of here, near the sea. They have the natural harbor there warded, though, a hazing ward to keep out the Tai Mora who are working further up the coast.”
“We’ll be on our way, then.”
Ahkio walked with him and Luna to the thorn fence. Taigan considered it entirely unnecessary. As they came to the barrier, however, Ahkio said, “Did you ever find the person you were really looking for? The one you thought Lilia was?”
“No,” Taigan said.
“Then perhaps the Tai Mora haven’t either. Maybe all this knowledge is for nothing, if they don’t have the right people.”
“Like a Kai?”
“Yes. The temples are closed to this Kirana. She isn’t the true Kai.”
“You’ve been under the temples?” Luna asked.
“Yes,” Ahkio said. “But there were no devices under there, no… engines. Just…” He shook his head, as if dismissing his next words as too ludicrous to utter. They must have been outrageous indeed for him to hesitate after all that had happened. “I wish you luck finding your allies,” he continued. “But all we want now is to live peacefully.”
“Living peacefully requires war,” Taigan said. “In Saiduan the word for peace could be translated as, simply, the time between wars.”
“I’ve never believed that. The Dhai haven’t fought a war in five hundred years.”
“You forget the Pass War.”
“That was defensive.”
“It was still a war, Kai Ahkio. I fear you and your people are dancing about in circles pretending you can come away from this time in our history utterly clean and without guilt. But you have not and you won’t.”
“Goodbye, Taigan,” Ahkio said.
Taigan tipped his chin at Ahkio. “Goodbye for now, Kai Ahkio. Though I think we are not yet done.”
Taigan stepped over the thorn fence, and helped Luna after him. He nearly broke the terrible Song of Unmaking spell right there, to show them his power and how bad their defenses truly were, but waited, instead, until they dropped the song and he could access Oma as easily as breathing, once again.
“You think we can convince other Saiduan to help us?” Luna asked.
“I’m uncertain,” Taigan said, “but I’m not really doing anything else. If we do not find allies soon, I may simply burn that whole temple down myself. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
Luna was quiet a moment, then, “It does, actually.”
18
Lilia arrived at the meeting point with Elaiko and Salifa just as the first hint of dawn tickled the horizon. She was exhausted and achy; she nearly fell asleep twice on her mount. She scanned the shallow rise of the meeting point as they broke through the trees, hoping to see Harina or Avosta. The smell of smoke still permeated the air, though there was no sign of the fires that Mihina had directed to draw out the patrols.
She had barely begun the ascent, Salifa and Elaiko trailing, when Namia howled and bounded down the hill toward her. Namia clapped her hands and patted Lilia’s leg in the stirrup, signing frantically, so fast Lilia could not make it out.
“Slow down,” Lilia said. “What is it?”
“Success,” Namia signed. “You?”
“Yes,” Lilia said. “We had success. You kept the patrols very busy. Thank you.”
Namia beamed, which looked more like a grimace on her ravaged face.
Mihina came to the edge of camp, wringing her hands, staring off behind them. “Is this all? Where’s Harina?”
“We were separated,” Lilia said, sliding down from her bear. “We lost Avosta in the river, too, but… it’s possible he just washed downstream. I’d like to wait for them, just in case. This is Elaiko. Our contact inside. She was… very helpful.” The last part, Lilia had to force out.
“The patrols are far from here,” Mihina said. “Do you think they noticed you in the temple? Will they send parties out?”
“I think it will be some time before they realize we escaped,” Lilia said. “They won’t know how we got out.”
“How did you?” Mihina asked. “And why isn’t Harina–”
“There was a scuffle,” Lilia said. “Blood. Not hers, but… she stayed behind. I think she’ll circle back. There’s no reason she shouldn’t have gotten out as well.”
Mihina offered them hard bread and raw tubers. Lilia sat back against one of the trees, and ate gratefully. She fell asleep listening to Salifa and Mihina speaking in low tones, discussing the reconnaissance.
“Was it worth it?” Mihina said, very softly, as Lilia fell into the warm, gauzy arms of sleep. “My sister–”
“I don’t know,” Salifa said. “Let’s see what she has to say back at camp.”
A snap. A hiss. The sound of a man huffing up the hill. Lilia snapped awake, disoriented, the tangy smell of everpine in her nostrils.
Avosta struggled up the rise. He leaned against a tree for support. He shivered violently.
“Mihina! Stoke the fire!” Salifa called.
They got Avosta out of his wet clothes and under a dry blanket. Mihina was able to dry his clothes quickly with a few tendrils of Sina’s breath. It did not take long to warm him up.
“You’re alive,” he said to Lilia.
“So are you,” she said.
“Harina?”
She shook her head.
Avosta wiped at his eyes. “I thought I was done, there, for a time.”
“I’m glad you were not,” Lilia said.
“We should…” Salifa glanced at Mihina. “I’m not sure how much longer we can risk waiting.”
“I’ll stay,” Mihina said. “Another day. Please. She could still find her way here.”
“I understand,” Lilia said. “I’m so sorry, Mihina. Stay a day, but if it gets too dangerous–”
“It’s always dangerous,” Mihina said. “Being Dhai is dangerous.”
The smaller party mounted up and left camp just as the suns reached the midpoint in the sky. Salifa hung her head, shoulders slumped. Elaiko nervously started at every breath of birdsong and flick of viney tendril.
Avosta rode up next to Lilia and asked, low, “Li, I’m sorry to ask, but what did we achieve there that we could not have learned from Elaiko, or some other Dhai already in the temple?”
“She was a slave there,” Lilia said. “Was it right for us to depend on her for everything?”
“That isn’t what I meant. Harina was–”
“She will make it out.”
“But what did we–”
“We discovered how to defeat the Tai Mora,” Lilia said. “Once and for all. You knew this was about getting information. We have that information now.”
“I don’t.”
She glanced at him sharply. His tone was still soft, but she did not like the shift in his face: the pensive brows, tight mouth.
“Do you trust me?”
“You know I do,” Avosta said. “I have faith in you. But… you would never lie to us, would you?”
“I’ll never lie to you,” Lilia said firmly. “You can trust that. Only great tyrants refuse to change course when they receive new information. What we’ve learned is that there’s no need to attack any Tai Mora during Tira’s Festival. We can strike back at them far more effectively if we take over the People’s Temple. That one is the Key. That’s where everything is going to happen.”
“All right,” Avosta said.
“Trust that I’m working on what’s best for all of us,” Lilia said. “I believe in the Dhai. I
believe in a future for us.”
When they arrived at the thorn fence surrounding the Dhai camp, most of their supplies were gone. Lilia wanted a long soak in a stone tub. They had left without much warning, sneaking away before Meyna or Yisaoh could argue, and Lilia did not expect anyone to be waiting for them. She was surprised, then, to see so many people above ground that afternoon, centered on the meeting tent.
When they came over the fence, Liaro came out to meet them. His hair was washed and braided back, his clothes clean, the cuts and bruises he had sustained on his journey mostly healed. The sly smile he gave Lilia as he took her dog’s lead made her shiver, though she could not say why.
“The Kai wishes to speak to you,” he said.
“Good,” Lilia said. “I have some things to say to her as well.”
“Not the Catoris,” he said. “The Kai.”
Ah, Lilia thought, so that had been decided.
Yet it was not Ahkio, but Meyna who was striding across the muddy ground as Lilia told her bear to sit and dismounted. Lilia took up her walking stick just as Namia caught up to her. Walking stick in one hand, Namia on the other, she turned to face Meyna as the birds cooed overhead.
“You,” Meyna said, “are an unconscionable liar. A charlatan. A con!”
Avosta slid off his bear and moved in front of Lilia. “What are you talking about?” he said.
“Your little scullery girl! Has she told you what she is? And here you all are, back from what, endangering all of us? Getting yourselves killed? How many of you actually left? You’ve lost some, Lilia. As I expected.”
Behind Meyna, Ahkio hung back at the entrance to the tent. Lilia did not see Yisaoh anywhere. A good number of jistas were present, though, and a few of her beribboned followers. Did they fear Lilia would lash out at them? What was all this? Something had certainly shifted in her absence.
“We’ve been engaged on a reconnaissance mission,” Lilia said coolly. “You will be interested to hear what we’ve learned. There is a way to destroy the Tai Mora and take our country back.”
“This isn’t our country,” Meyna said. “Kai Ahkio and I have decided on the best way forward. We are leaving Dhai. You’ve known that for days.”
The Worldbreaker Saga Omnibus Page 124