The Reawakened

by Jeri Smith-Ready

  Kara introduced them, then added, “We’re here to see Vara, and to deliver pigeons.”

  “And meloxa,” Dravek said.

  The four men jerked their heads to look his way. “How much meloxa?” said the Bear who had spoken before.

  “Enough to go around.” Etarek unfastened a flask from the mule’s pack and tossed it to him. The Bear caught it deftly in one large hand, then unscrewed the cap and took a cautious whiff. He smiled.

  “I’m Krios. Go on in.” He nodded at the younger Bear. “Take the Snakes to Vara, then show the others where they can get tents.”

  “Wait.” Sura looked at Krios. “Has there been any word from Asermos about Rhia and Mali?”

  “Rhia escaped. She’s not here, though.” He shook his head. “Last we heard, Mali was still in prison.”

  Etarek touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  She tried to give him a grateful smile, but her feelings were tied in a knot. At least Rhia had broken free, which meant Lycas was safer. But her heart twisted at the thought of her mother in chains, and she resolved to continue her quest to reach the second phase. With a mentor here in Tiros to guide her in her new magic, she would pose less of a danger to others than Dravek had. Or so she hoped.

  They entered the village between the watchtowers. Sura forced her gaze to remain forward and resisted the temptation to look up. In Asermos, the soldiers preferred it that way.

  They passed rows of tents and poorly constructed shanties on the outskirts of town. Refugees, no doubt. She kept her breath shallow to minimize the smell of squalor. At least they have their freedom, she reminded herself.

  They came to a small white stone house near the center of town. The curtains in the sole window were drawn, though the sun hadn’t set.

  “Vara’s house.” The Bear pointed to the wooden door. “Wait until I leave before you go in.” He hurried off, beckoning Kara and Etarek to follow him.

  Dravek and Sura stepped onto the narrow porch stairs. He knocked on the door, and when he lowered his arm, their knuckles bumped. Her pulse leaped at the brief touch. One of his fingers reached out and brushed her palm.

  The door opened, and a tall woman stared down at them. Her long blond braid was spliced with gray strands, but her face was young and striking, with full lips and blazing dark eyes. When Sura opened her mouth to introduce herself, the woman held up a hand to silence her.

  She examined them for a long moment, lingering on the space between their bodies.

  “You are Snakes?” the woman whispered. They nodded. Her gaze went blank and distant for a long moment. Then deep frown lines creased her forehead. “Oh.” She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is awful. Please come in. I am Vara.”

  They shared a look of trepidation, then stepped over the threshold. Vara reached quickly behind them to shut the door.

  The dim front room appeared to be a kitchen, but Vara led them to another door without offering so much as a drink, which Sura’s dry tongue and throat resented.

  Beyond the door was total blackness. Sura strained to adjust her eyes to the windowless room. Goose bumps rose on her arms at the rush of cool, clammy air.

  “Hurry.” Vara bustled past them, disappearing. She patted a wooden surface, which Sura assumed was a table.

  After banging her knee on the chair, Sura sat next to Dravek. In the dark, she felt acutely aware of his presence.

  “How do you see in here?” he asked Vara.

  “It’s my home,” she said in a low voice. “I know every inch. And I see better without light since I entered the third phase.” She sank into a chair across the table. “Sura, I’ve been expecting you. The Kalindon message about your mother mentioned you were a Snake. And, Dravek, what’s taken you so long to come to me? Have you been training on your own?”

  “With Snake’s guidance, yes.”

  “Look where it’s gotten you.” She sighed. “Touch each other again.”

  Sura put her hands in her lap. “Why?”

  “Take his hand. Now, please.”

  Sura heard his skin slide across the surface of the table. Dreading the result, she moved her palm over his. Their fingers intertwined.

  Vara let out a heavy breath. “As I feared. There is tremendous heat between you.”

  They yanked their hands apart.

  “So?” Dravek’s voice shook. “It’s warm out, and we’ve been walking all day.”

  “Your bodies generate more heat than others, so I guessed you were Snakes even outside. In here I see more clearly, because my home is dark and cold.”

  “See what?” Dravek asked her.

  “Heat, as shades of gray light. The closer to white, the hotter. It’s a Snake’s third-phase power. You two didn’t know that?” When they didn’t reply, she gave a harsh snort. “This Descendant occupation keeps our young so ignorant. When I was your age, we worked with our mentors from the day after our Bestowing, no matter how far we had to travel.”

  “What did you mean about what was between us?” Sura asked.

  “I see emotional heat, as well as physical. It’s how I wipe memories without destroying the personality of their carrier. My mind makes an emotional map of sorts. I try to maintain the integrity of that map.” Her voice angled toward Dravek. “I’ll teach you how to do this before you hurt someone.”

  Sura squirmed in her seat. Too late.

  “As I was about to say.” The Snake woman’s voice softened and sobered. “The heat dances between you, flaring white when you touch.”

  “Is that not normal for Snakes?” Sura asked her.

  “With Snakes, there’s no such thing as normal.” A smile seemed to curve her words. “However—” her voice came stern again “—the pattern I see between you is that of new lovers.”

  “No!” they said simultaneously.

  “Unrequited lovers, then.”

  Shame flooded Sura, and she couldn’t speak.

  “Hmm.” Vara rapped her fingernails on the table. “I see from your blushes that I’m correct. I’m relieved you haven’t given into this temptation.”

  “I’m married,” Dravek said.

  “And I have a mate, of sorts,” Sura added. “Besides, it’s forbidden for Spirit-siblings to be together that way. It’s taboo to even think about it.”

  “Why?” Vara asked calmly.

  Sura recited the rationale. “So we can work together without distraction. So our desire doesn’t twist the wisdom of our Aspect and pervert our magic.”

  “Dravek, what happens when you and Sura work together?”

  He shifted in his seat. “We start fires.”

  “You mean, you reignite fires.”

  He cleared his throat. “We start them. There was a cold torch—”

  “You’re sure it was cold?” Vara’s voice shot from across the table.

  “I’m sure,” he said in a hard voice. “It just happened.”

  “Sura, do you know why it happened?”

  Dravek spoke up again. “It wasn’t her fault—”

  “I. Asked. Her.”

  Sura rubbed her hands together in her lap. If they wanted help, they had to tell the truth.

  “We were—” She drew in a deep breath, then let it out. “We were discussing our feelings.” No, that wasn’t the entire truth. Another deep breath. “We described what it would be like to make love.”

  “To each other.”

  “Yes.” Sura averted her gaze from Vara, though she couldn’t see her.

  “Don’t be embarrassed. A Snake should always speak frankly in matters of sex. Our Spirit’s power resides in it.” Her voice flattened. “Though usually we stoke our desire without fantasizing about our Spirit-siblings.”

  “Should we be separated?” Sura asked.

  Vara spoke urgently. “It’s too late. Your longing would only increase. You’d be more dangerous than ever.”

  “Have we done something wrong?” Dravek asked her.

  “Feelings aren’t r
ight or wrong. Only you know in your hearts whether your actions have been just.”

  “I wiped out almost a year of my wife’s memory,” Dravek snapped. “I’ll hazard a crazy guess that that was wrong.”

  She was silent for a moment. “Did you do it on purpose?”

  “No.” He gave an abrasive sigh. “But I was angry with her. I’ve been lashing out since we got married last month.” He took a couple of short, uneven breaths. “I hated her for not being Sura.”

  A dizzy heat rushed over Sura’s scalp, as if her head had been doused in hot water.

  Vara spoke calmly. “Your wife no longer remembers your vows.”

  “She doesn’t even remember falling in love. She has nothing but disgust for me.”

  “So.” Vara made a self-satisfied noise in her throat. “You feel guilty for getting what you want.”

  “It’s not what I want!” Dravek said. “I never meant to hurt her.” Pain shot through his voice. “I stole a year of her life. I can never make that up to her.”

  “You can start by letting her go.”

  He hissed in a breath. “She’s pregnant.”

  “I know. I feel the heat of your second-phase power.”

  Sura realized she could feel it, too. She’d thought it was only the increase in their desire for each other that had sparked a larger flame.

  “What’s the point of this power,” Dravek asked, “if all it does is hurt people?”

  “After a great trauma,” Vara replied, “forgetting can save one’s sanity.”

  “I know how memories can hurt.” His voice took on an edge, and Sura knew he was thinking of his mother. “But they’re part of who we are.”

  “I’d forget if I could.” Sura cleared her throat and forced her voice to steady. “I’d forget the way pieces of Mathias’s charred flesh stuck to his bones when we took him out of his house. I’d forget the way his skeleton crumbled when we wrapped him in the burial shroud. Most of all, I’d forget the smell.”

  No one spoke for several moments. Finally Vara said, “I can help with that if you want.”

  She closed her eyes. “More than anything.”

  “But back to the matter of you two,” Vara said. “Have you had dreams or visions about each other? Sura?”

  Sura knew from Vara’s tone that her own cheeks were flushed. She was glad the room was dark so she wouldn’t have to watch Dravek’s reaction.

  She closed her eyes as she began. She told them the dream of the flames, the one she’d had the first night of their trip, right before she’d made love with Etarek. She described her and Dravek’s naked bodies pressed against the pole, their wrists bound by the black snake. Her voice threatened to break when she reached the part where it all vanished upon their love’s consummation.

  “What does that mean?” Dravek asked Vara in a whisper.

  She drummed her nails on the table in a way Sura was already tiring of. “I won’t deny it troubles me. I’ll consult with a Swan to be sure about the interpretation, but my feeling is that if you give in to your lust, you’ll lose the fire. You may even cause Snake to leave you both for breaking the taboo.”

  “Forever?” Sura said.

  “I don’t know. But for the sake of your power, for the sake of all the good it can do for our people, you can never succumb to this temptation.”

  Dravek spoke in a hostile tone. “So Snake gave us these desires so we could burn our enemies, but She’ll punish us for acting on them?”

  “I’m sorry.” Vara’s voice softened. “I know the force of a Snake’s passion. It rips us apart sometimes.”

  “All the time,” Sura whispered.

  “If you choose to separate to ease your pain, I’ll train you individually.” She reached across the table and took their hands. “But if you accept this challenge and hone your powers together, you could give our people new hope.”

  Sura felt part of her crumble inside, and she wanted to pull away. She’d already been asked to bear a child so that her parents and Etarek’s could gain power. Now she was expected to put herself through the agony of routinely touching a man she loved but could never have. It’s not fair.

  But this was the path that had been laid for her. For others, the path led to death in battle or years of imprisonment. She shouldn’t complain.

  She let go of Vara’s hand. “We’ll give you our decision tomorrow.”

  24

  Velekos

  Lycas skulked along the edge of the courtyard separating the two sides of the garrison, his clothes soaked in the blood of dozens.

  With martial law about to be declared in Velekos, half the garrison’s troops had left before sunset for the village, to thwart the rumored disruption to tomorrow’s Evius festival. Reinforcements would arrive at high tide before midnight. Until then, the fort was undermanned.

  So Lycas had struck.

  A small force of Wolverines and Badgers had approached the front gate disguised as Ilion soldiers. Silent as snakes, they slashed the throats of the guards, then opened the other gates to let in the remaining guerillas. Soon the garrison was crawling with rebels, as hidden as spiders beneath a rug.

  The young Bear commander of the second platoon had been killed, along with three of his men. Lycas now commanded the fallen soldier’s platoon, which he’d redivided into two squads down from three, to fill in the holes. Somewhere on the other side of the garrison, Sirin was leading his own company. Spirits willing, they would meet at the top and watch their archers shoot the incoming Ilion troops.

  None of the blood on Lycas’s clothes belonged to him. No knife could cut him, no sword could slash him. Only an arrow could kill him, and all the arrows were on his side.

  Such as those in the quivers of the four Wolves who flanked him now. The wide stone courtyard was empty, except for four guards facing the open archways out to the sea, their red-and-yellow uniforms glowing in the torchlight.

  Lycas gave the signal, and the Wolves vanished. They crossed the courtyard, silent and invisible.

  One of them shouted, “Now!”

  Four arrows flew out of nowhere, each striking a guard in the back of his neck. The Ilions staggered and stumbled. The Wolves ran forward and jerked them away from the archways before they could fall out.

  Lycas signaled to his three first-phase Wolverines to follow him. They sprinted to join the now-visible Wolves.

  The nearest Wolf planted his foot on the back of the writhing Ilion, then wrenched the arrow from his neck. Lycas knelt and sliced the Descendant’s throat. The soldier twitched once before dying.

  “They’re coming,” whispered the Wolf.

  Lycas looked through the archway out onto the bay. Three small ships bobbed toward the shore, lanterns at their bows and sterns.

  “Let’s move out.”

  The squads regrouped, and the platoon moved as one from the courtyard toward the south tower. Twelve sword-wielding Bears raced in front, followed by ten Wolverines, with a half dozen Wolves and Cougars bringing up the rear.

  The tower’s heavy wooden doors swung open. Dozens of Ilions streamed out, swords raised.

  Open battle was upon them.

  Lycas grabbed the closest Wolf. “Get first and third platoons here, now!”

  Then he turned toward the oncoming Ilions, drew his longest daggers and bellowed the Wolverine war cry. The call came from deep in his gut, where his rage and sorrow boiled.

  His fighters joined in, even the Bears and Wolves and Cougars. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood straight, and every muscle clenched.

  The Descendants slowed, boots skidding on the stone floor and eyes sparking with fear. The walls themselves seemed to quake at the sound.

  Lycas charged.

  Two soldiers converged on him. Their swords slashed at his sides, but he felt no more pain than if they’d slapped him with wooden sticks. Before they could raise their weapons again, Lycas plunged his daggers into their guts. Hot blood streamed over his hands. He twisted his wrists
as he yanked the blades from the soldiers’ flesh. The men collapsed, groaning with their last full breaths.

  Roaring the Wolverine cry, he led his fighters to form a bent line. They charged again, closing the line like a door, forcing the Ilions away from the right wall and the short stairway to the upper level.

  The other two platoons arrived, and Lycas ordered them into position. He signaled the archers and several Bears and Wolverines to follow him up the stairs.

  At the top, he opened the door. As his men streamed through, he turned to evaluate the battle in the cramped room below. Limbs and bodies littered the floor, and soldiers fought atop their comrades’ writhing forms. He longed to hurl himself into the center of the melee, wade ankle-deep in Ilion blood, but he yanked his mind back to the mission.

  The stairs led to a narrow hall, where more Ilions waited. With no time to deliver killing blows, he fought merely to debilitate, with kicks and parries and quick slashes. Lycas and his Bears and Wolverines pressed on, guarding the archers.

  He reached the end of the hallway and launched up the stairs, leaving behind another contingent of fighters to prevent the Ilions’ pursuit. He brought the archers, along with the two Tiron Wolverines and two Bears.

  Lycas charged through the final door, into the rainy night.

  The tower was teeming with fighters locked in combat. The stone surface was slick with rain and blood. Clearly the men in Sirin’s company had already arrived.

  Lycas stationed the Wolves and Cougars at the edge of the wall, then grabbed the young Bear commanding the first platoon. “Have them fire on the arriving troops after they’ve landed on the sand, not a moment before.”

  The Bear nodded and turned to his task. Lycas surveyed the situation atop the tower. The heaviest fighting was taking place on the far end, opposite the entrance.

  A cluster of Ilion soldiers had barricaded themselves into one corner. Two of them were using their swords to swing and hack at something at their feet. Lycas beckoned the Tiron Wolverines to follow him over.

  “Hold him down!” a Descendent in the corner shouted. Lycas heard the snap of a breaking bone, and one of the attackers shrieked in pain.