“No, shawness! I only meant…” She put the palm of her hand to her forehead. “And now I have proven that not even shawnessi have the right words all of the time.”
“Don’t I know it.” He tried to swallow his fear as he cast his senses out again, but the signal seemed to be fading. It couldn’t be Horace. Whoever held him had to be powerful enough to suppress his power, and if they were that strong, their control wouldn’t keep slipping.
Unless they wanted it to, and this was a trap.
“Will you turn back now, shawness?” Reach asked.
Simon thought for a moment, but trap or no trap, he’d come so far already. And doing something still felt better than waiting. “No, I won’t, shawness. But I won’t blame you if you do. There’s still something out here, and it’s better to know what it is than to keep guessing.”
She grinned, wrinkling her nose. “Let me lead the way.” She bent low in the grass and rocks, one hand shielding the candle. Simon tried to mimic her, but she was so much more surefooted. He focused on keeping his feet, easing the ache in his back, and giving her the occasional boost of stamina.
Soon, she stopped, and he barely kept from crying out when she blew out the candle.
Simon bit back his questions and used his power to make his eyes adjust quickly. The moon had not yet risen, but the myriad rocks of the plains were bright in the starlight.
He jumped as Reach touched his arm and spoke close to his ear. “I smell many humans, and I see the flicker of lights.”
“Where?”
Her hand trailed up his arm, and she touched his head, her middle finger tucked away. He let her turn him slightly and scanned the darkness. The telepathic signal skittered like a centipede over his skull, but he saw nothing.
“Where?” he asked again.
She moved him, putting his hands on a boulder. “Just over the top there.”
He felt to the top of the rough stone and squinted into the darkness but saw nothing still. “Your eyes must be better than mine.”
“The lights, shawness! Surely you must see them.”
He didn’t know how he could miss lights even from far away, but he saw nothing but emptiness.
Unless…
He opened up his power and sought the signal again. It flickered only slightly now, barely there. If he hadn’t been looking for it, he might never have found it. Only significant distance gave it away.
“Does it smell like a lot of people?” he asked.
“Ahya.”
“Like plains dwellers?”
She and the other drushka weren’t familiar with many clans, but there were probably similarities in clothing or animal smells. “Some perhaps,” she said, “but there are unfamiliar smells as well. Do you know who they are, shawness?”
“A group of people that I can’t see? That sounds like a giant, telepathic shield. And even Naos might not be a telepathic match for the Sun-Moon.” He bit his lip. If he was this close, they had to know he was here. Unless the massive power output from hiding what was surely an army was taking all their attention.
But they couldn’t hide from the drushka.
He had half a mind to march into their camp and see if he could scare the hell out of them again. They’d kidnapped Horace once already. Maybe they’d decided to ignore his warning and try again.
Or maybe they’d be ready for him this time and kill him before he went two steps. Then who would help save Horace and stop Naos? It wasn’t just ego saying that Cordelia and the others were counting on him.
“I’m not sure what to do,” he said at last.
Reach squeezed his arm. “Good. Then I will not have to wrestle you back to where Sa awaits us.”
He breathed a chuckle, not even surprised. “I should have known she’d follow.”
“Ahya. Now, for plans of battle, let us go consult a soldier.”
Chapter Seventeen
Cordelia listened to Simon’s story and didn’t know what to feel. She leaned against a boulder, the handful of her people bathed in warm lantern light, and the night seemingly full of people who wished her harm.
And now the Sun-Moon were added to the mix. They’d no doubt heard the call to metal as clearly as everyone else. Whether they were after it or just sought to stir things up with Naos, she didn’t know. The fact that they were hiding said they didn’t want a fight, but they couldn’t think Naos would just give them the Atlas. Maybe they wanted to hide and wait and see who else would fight Naos, then they’d mop up the tired winners.
That matched Cordelia’s experience with them. And it meant that after she and Pool and Simon had beaten Naos, they’d have a second fight on their hands.
“It is good that they are close, ahya?” Nettle asked Simon. “You can borrow their power as before when it comes time to face Naos.”
“Unless they’ve figured out a way to stop me,” he said. “Also, they were pretty tired when I did that and weren’t prepared to put up a fight.”
“They will be tired now, too,” Reach added. “If this display of power is as taxing as you suspect.”
“We can’t just pretend they’re not here, whatever we do,” Cordelia said. “We can’t leave a threat like this at our backs.” She really didn’t want to go talk with the high-and-mighty Sun-Moon, who’d once lit her on fire and held her friends hostage, but she had to know what they had in mind. “I say we go in confident and see what we can find out.”
“Drushka and all?” Simon asked. He’d been strangely calm through his story. She wanted the pacing anger bomb back. At least then, she knew what he was thinking.
Nettle and Reach both sucked their teeth and looked at each other.
“Not the tree,” Cordelia said quickly, knowing she wasn’t just putting these two at ease. “We take a small party with the threat that the tree will come after us if shit goes sideways.”
“Better to do so in the daylight, Sa,” Nettle said. She turned to Simon. “I know you do not wish to wait, shawness, but…”
“No,” he said with a sigh. “I can’t stop thinking, what if they have Horace? I know it’s not likely, but the thought won’t let me be. If I leave now, I might be abandoning him.”
Cordelia knew it was more than unlikely. The timing wasn’t right, and if the Sun-Moon wanted to keep their heads down, the last thing they’d do would be to kidnap someone who would definitely be missed.
But if Horace had stumbled across them somehow…
Well, she had her small party now, she had a significant drushkan connection, and she had Simon, whom the Sun-Moon feared. But the idea of going in blind—literally—put her guard up. The Sun-Moon couldn’t hide from the drushka, but Cordelia wasn’t about to send Nettle and Reach scouting on their own.
But no one had to put their body in danger while she was around.
“I’ll take a peek in my astral form,” she said, lying on the ground.
“No, Sa!” Nettle said. “Recall what happened before when you were pursued by Naos.”
“She can’t be everywhere at once,” Cordelia said, trying not to think about that very thing. “And I’m not going far. Pool will be able to see the camp through me, then you’ll know it, and she can share what she sees with me and Simon.”
“And if the Sun-Moon detect you and attack your mind?” Reach asked, her tone as measured and patient as if she were speaking to a small child.
“Then Simon and Pool can get me loose, right?” Cordelia said, returning her condescension.
Simon smiled. “I’m honored and terrified by your faith in me.”
Nettle still frowned as she knelt by Cordelia’s side. She’d never liked the fact that Cordelia could leave her body, but this was a journey that called for every weapon in their arsenal.
Cordelia kissed Nettle’s hand. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Impossible, Sa, but know that if you do not return, I will kill the Sun-Moon to retrieve your spirit.”
Cordelia chuckled. “If I speak to them, I�
��ll tell them to watch their asses.”
“Ahya, and every other part.” Her lips brushed Cordelia’s forehead.
Cordelia was grateful for Nettle’s patience as she slipped loose from her body. She didn’t know if she could have given Nettle the same gift.
A combination of fear and exhilaration swept through her as she floated above their little party, the colors and shapes sharper to her astral eyes. Cordelia reached for her connection to Pool and through Pool to Simon. As soon as she made both, Nettle’s eyes lifted as if seeking her spirit, and Cordelia had to turn away from her beloved face.
“I am with you, Sa,” Pool said.
“Me, too,” Simon said, “though I’m not sure how well this will work. If Pool can only see through your eyes…”
“But that is not so, shawness,” Pool’s voice said in Cordelia’s mind. “I can touch Sa as if she was a drushka, a long root indeed.”
Cordelia didn’t know why that struck her as funny; it must have been the giddiness that came with being outside her body. She floated in the direction Reach had indicated, her lifeline floating behind her as a silvery-white cord.
The plains seemed as empty as before, though they were brighter, and from above, part of them seemed to have a slight blur, like something seen at the very edge of her periphery. Before she could ask what to do, the scent of greenery suffused her. A shiver ran through her, a feeling she’d never thought to experience without a body. She would have said someone was lightly caressing the back of her eyes, one of the strangest sensations she’d ever felt.
The blur beneath her cleared, but her vision was even more different than before, the colors sharper still, and any movement in the camp that stretched out beneath her drew her attention even if she wasn’t looking at it directly. Everything in motion seemed to have a halo of light surrounding it.
“Fantastic!” Simon said, awe in his voice. “Is this how drushka see, or is it some amalgamation of human and drushkan senses?”
“Save it for later!” Cordelia said. There had to be at least two hundred tents, maybe more, and who knew how many people each tent contained? There were ossors penned here and there, as well as geavers. One large tent sat in the middle.
“If Horace is here, that’s where he is,” Cordelia said. “They kept him with them the last time.”
Simon’s power pushed through her as if she was an antenna. “I’m not feeling…oh shit.”
Cordelia’s mind filled with sound, and a deep ache spread through her as if her spirit was being wrung like a wet cloth. She cried out, and that smell of greenery filled her again, shoving away the pain.
“I think we got their attention!” Cordelia cried as she turned back for her body. The Sun-Moon’s attacks stabbed at her when they could find their way around Pool. They didn’t even try to talk. Simon’s power rushed through her, healing, then striking, a punch of power that made the telepathic surges finally stop.
Cordelia leapt back into her body and gasped as her eyes flew open. It had always felt like slipping into warm water or her favorite set of clothing, but now it felt like jumping into a lake to escape a raging fire.
Nettle lifted her, cuddling her close, armor and all. Nettle mumbled something about being right yet no one ever believed her.
Cordelia coughed as she sat up, clutching at Nettle. “I’ll never argue with you again.”
Nettle kissed her temple. “I will forgive you that falsehood, Sa, out of worry for you.”
Simon knelt beside her, and her heart rate returned to normal. “I thought they’d talk first.” His eyes practically blazed in the dim light. “Makes me want to march in there and—”
A faint scream from the darkness cut him off. Cordelia staggered to her feet, and they all looked in the direction of the Sun-Moon camp.
“Just a moment,” Simon said. His eyes glazed over as he used his power. “I’m still not detecting the camp, but…” He snorted a laugh. “Oh dear.”
Cordelia repressed the urge to shake him. “What?”
“It seems as if our rebellious miscreants from the tree have stumbled upon the Sun-Moon army. Perhaps we even masked their approach with our scouting.”
Cordelia froze, trying to think of ways this news could be bad. Finally, she barked a laugh. “I can’t say they don’t deserve one another.”
The news spread to the rest of the paladins, and soon everyone was laughing as they listened to the distant yells.
Finally, Cordelia called a halt to the mirth, feeling a little sorry for the rebel yafanai. “They’re going to be annihilated.”
“Ahya,” Nettle said, satisfaction in her voice.
“The Sun-Moon will probably get involved,” Simon said. “If they can manage an attack with their shield up.” He looked at Cordelia. “They’ll be distracted.”
She grinned. “Perfect time to sneak in.”
“For a drushka,” Nettle said. “Without the queen’s help, you will not be able to see through this shield.”
Cordelia frowned, but Nettle had let her take a risk. Fucking give and take. “All right, but I’ll get close with the paladins, and I’ll be waiting just outside my body so I can speak with Pool. One bad thought, and we come running.”
“I’m going with you,” Simon said to Nettle. “I can speak with Pool while still in my body, and I’ll have you to guide me besides.” He shrugged. “And I can handle the Sun-Moon up close.”
“Follow our lead well,” Reach said, hooking her arm through his.
Cordelia kissed Nettle soundly, and Nettle nipped at her bottom lip, a promise for later. Cordelia made herself focus on what she had to do rather than on thoughts of anyone getting hurt, though it was as hard as she remembered.
Nettle led the paladins forward, then bade them wait in a shallow ditch before hurrying away with Reach and Simon. Cordelia leaned against a rock, slipped just outside her body, and waited, anticipation and worry running through her like a rising river.
* * *
Lydia didn’t know how she could sleep in the middle of an armed camp with a couple of self-proclaimed gods who were planning to use her like a puppet.
And again, her stupid power was to blame.
When Fajir had come back inside the tent wearing a Sun-Moon robe, Lydia hadn’t known what to think. Thankfully, her shock had worn off quickly enough for one word to filter through the dread squeezing her chest: run.
Then Fajir had looked at her and smiled, and her eyes bore the same soft quality they’d had since her escape, and Lydia knew that even though the wrapping had changed, the internal transformation Fajir had been going through continued unabated.
Fajir had shrugged. “I thought to return to how I was but couldn’t.” She sighed as she sat. “It must be you, Nemesis.”
“Lydia,” she mumbled.
Now they sat in the tent together, listening to the noises of the camp settling around them. Would someone bring them dinner? Fajir could get some, Lydia was certain, by shouting another order to a passing widow.
“Would you like to use the bathwater?” Lydia asked. “It’s still relatively clean.”
Fajir smirked. “Compared to what?”
Lydia snorted a laugh. “As if you’re any cleaner than I was!”
“I will get some more.” Fajir stepped outside again, taking the basin with her. Lydia expected her immediate return, and then she would stand outside to give Fajir privacy.
Or maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe Fajir wouldn’t even ask but would begin to bathe in front of her. There probably hadn’t been much privacy when she’d patrolled with her widows before. Lydia would have to decide where to look. Probably at the wall. Fajir would laugh at her sense of propriety, even though she’d given Lydia privacy in the first place. Maybe Lydia would sneak a peek at the lean muscle hiding under that robe.
Lydia clenched a fist. Fajir had tried to kill her! She did not need to be fantasizing about strong arms and thighs and whether or not Fajir made love the way she fought, as an unstoppable force
of nature.
After a deep breath, Lydia forced herself to calm down. She needed to focus on getting out of this camp before the Sun-Moon used her for whatever they were planning. And she had to go with or without Fajir.
Except she wouldn’t go without her. And she couldn’t keep telling herself it was because of the prophecy. She didn’t have to keep random people safe from Fajir anymore. Fajir had changed because of her. The woman who’d once tried to kill her was now living for her, at least a little, and Lydia couldn’t just ignore that.
She didn’t want to.
And where was Fajir anyway?
Lydia scooted over to the tent flap just as Fajir pulled it aside and knelt on the rugs covering the ground. She pulled up short, blinking as the flap fell shut behind her. Lydia gasped at their sudden proximity.
Fajir held her hands to the side. “Better?”
Her face was free of dirt, and her hair was slightly damp. Lydia caught the scent of musky soap. A slight blush darkened Fajir’s cheeks around the tattoos.
Lydia told herself to sit back but didn’t.
Fajir’s gaze flicked to Lydia’s lips, and she seemed almost…hungry.
That was all it took.
Lydia wrapped her arms around Fajir’s shoulders and pulled her close until their lips fit neatly together. Fajir stiffened, so Lydia turned her head farther sideways and deepened the kiss, her tongue gliding along Fajir’s lips until they parted. Fajir moaned, and her arms snaked around Lydia’s waist and flexed into a bruising grip.
Lydia tangled her fingers in Fajir’s damp hair. Fajir crushed her harder still, her touch roving over Lydia’s back and arms as if she was a climber seeking purchase.
They fell sideways, and Lydia had a spare thought about the candle in its holder, but Fajir’s hands had found their way under Lydia’s shirt, and she didn’t care if the whole world burned down.
Fajir flipped both of them effortlessly, a force of nature indeed, so that Lydia was underneath. Lydia wrapped one leg around Fajir while they fumbled with each other’s clothing, mouths only parting for moments before crashing together again. The touch of Fajir’s calloused hands sent tingles racing to Lydia’s core. Her skin was softer than Lydia had imagined, but underneath, she was as hard and powerful as paladin armor. Lydia reached low on Fajir’s body, desperate to hear her cry out with passion.
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