Hearts of Chaos

by Kira Brady

  “But nothing I do makes things better. My blood killed half our people and decimated our world. More died in this last battle because of me, and now you’re telling me I’m on the forefront of a revolt. Who would lead without Corbette? Me? You’ve got to be kidding me. Every time I try to help, people die.”

  Delia stood and strolled back to the armoire. “Well, you can’t stay in here. People will think you’re hiding again. Make up your mind quick, and make a stand: Team Kai or Team Corbette.”

  “I’m not trying to throw him off the throne!”

  “But you could. He’s losing support and fast. You’ve got to put on your best dress and wave it like a red flag.”

  “That’s treason,” she whispered.

  Delia’s smile turned serious. “Only if you lose.”

  Lucia studied her room: the pale pink roses on the wallpaper; the vanity with its finger-thin spindle legs; the row of porcelain dolls, hair and makeup and frilly dresses still in mint condition, never played with, never loved to pieces like normal dolls. Her mother had designed this room to be everything the perfect Kivati lady should be: elegant and dainty and demure.

  She’d never been that girl. It was too late to start now.

  “I’m wearing the teal,” Lucia said.

  “Good. I wanted the lavender anyway.”

  With her sister’s help, she dressed. Lace and silk instead of leather and bone, but it was battle gear just the same. Her stomach knotted up in the soles of her feet, she left the cocoon of her bedroom and emerged into the low boil of revolution.

  Insubordination must be punished. “Say it again,” Corbette commanded.

  “I fucked Astrid Zetian,” Kai bit out.

  Corbette wondered how Lucia had found out. It had taken him an hour to break the truth from Kai’s lips. He brought his half-shifted hand across his Thunderbird general’s chest. The talons carved shallow cuts that welled quick with blue-crimson life. Kai clamped his teeth but couldn’t keep the roar of pain silent. Both men had stripped to the waist. They wore the red sash of formal challenge around their waists. The blood flowed down to the sash and was swallowed up.

  “My trusted Thunderbird general,” Corbette said. My friend.

  “I betrayed the honor of the Kivati by sleeping with the enemy.” Lines of strain etched Kai’s face. Blood trickled from a dozen gashes across his tanned skin. “I led my men against Kingu and his army of the dead, which was—”

  “Joined—again!—with our ancient Drekar enemies. Do you wish to be one of them? Where is your allegiance?” Corbette growled. They fought in an ancient circle made of bone and ash. Three witnesses—Corbette’s second, Will; Kai’s second, Theo; and the Sprit Seeker—watched from behind the burnt line. The circle had been dug one foot into the soil and lined with rocks. Those who had died here never left; their bodies had been burnt and their ashes rubbed into the thick perfect circle of ancient magic.

  “I am loyal to you,” Kai said.

  “And your third sin . . . ,” Corbette whispered.

  For a moment Kai faltered, then his features hardened. “Lucia chose her own path.”

  Red fire shot across Corbette’s vision and a burst of Aether singed the tips of his fingers.

  Kai used the distraction to launch himself at Corbette’s middle. Kai’s bulk should have taken him down, but no one could match Corbette’s manipulation of the Aether. He dug his toes into the earth and connected to the beating heart of the world. The blood pulsing in his ears echoed the beat, and he drew in the gossamer threads of the fabric of the universe. The slippery Aether bucked in his grip as he struggled to keep his rage in check. Sweat dripped down from his hairline. He neared the edge and his vision flickered black and violet, strange oscillations in the air as the Aether and all its connections funneled through his body. He threw a loop of Aether to catch the larger man around the middle and hook him off his feet. Kai shot backward and hit the invisible barrier of the sacred circle. His wild mane shot out like he’d stuck his fingers in an electrical socket, and he collapsed to the ground.

  Corbette’s vision cleared. With heavy steps, he walked over to where his Thunderbird general lay on the ground. “She is the fate of the race. She is not at liberty to choose her own path.” If any of them were.

  The Aether wall dispersed, and Theo and the Spirit Seeker moved to Kai’s side. A sun break illuminated his slowly rising chest. The Spirit Seeker waved her hand over Kai, and with a smooth lick of Aether—so different from Corbette’s brutal hold—the Thunderbird woke.

  Will came to stand next to Corbette. The Thunderbird, head of the Southern House, had been his closest adviser since boyhood and had helped Corbette put back together the Kivati after his joke of a father had let their ancient enemies, the Drekar, move into their territory. Gray threaded his hair. The light lines on his square face made him look distinguished. The faint scar down his cheek, intimidating. Will had seen more battles than the other Thunderbirds combined. He was a ruthless adversary and loyal to a fault. “You let him live.”

  Corbette forced his breathing to slow. “What would you have done, Will?” He watched Theo, the third Thunderbird general and head of the Eastern House, help Kai up. A web of bruises spiraled across Kai’s back over the intricate tattoos that lined his spine.

  “Your father would have—”

  “I know what my father would have done.” Corbette turned away. His father had set these events in motion. Halian should have killed the Dreki Sven Norgard when the damned soul-sucker had first shown up with his Norse followers, but he had wanted to join the wider world and the riches that went with trade. He’d been a jovial man, loved by his people and humans alike. His selfish desires had put the future of the race in jeopardy. That first battle had burned the city to the ground and cost Halian his life. It had taken Corbette a century to rebuild, only to watch his kingdom be destroyed in the Unraveling. If Halian had only had the self-control to do what was needed . . . none of this would have happened.

  Corbette was doomed to spend eternity cleaning up his father’s mess. He had to keep a tighter rein on his people, even if that made him seem heartless. His father had always said he was a disappointment. The feeling was mutual, Father.

  Corbette stepped out of the circle and released his mental connection to the heart of the earth. Climbing up to the edge of the line of rocks, he looked down over the crumbled remains of downtown Seattle, and Will followed him. Queen Anne Hill occupied critical ground in the middle of the city. Directly to the south lay the crater that had opened up during the Unraveling. He could feel the Aether twisting up from the Spider’s sacred caves beneath the city, and it reeked like fish left out too long in the sun. From the west, the wind blew in from Puget Sound. This morning sun wouldn’t last; already clouds covered the horizon. He took a deep breath of sea air and let the salt cleanse the smell of blood from his nose. “I can’t afford to lose another Thunderbird.”

  “You can’t afford to look weak. The people are restless. They will only follow the strongest of the pack. You need to cut all dissent.”

  “And Lucia?”

  “Her most of all. She must be contained.” Will followed Corbette’s gaze down to the crater. The sea waves nibbled at the edge of it, some pouring down into the bucket at high tide. “She is the Harbinger, but so far all she’s brought us is destruction.”

  “What would you have me do?”

  “Clip her wings.”

  Gods, he despised that thought. Rudrick had almost done it for him, and Corbette had hated to see her so listless. Every night he replayed the scene of the Unraveling in his mind: rushing through the sacred underground caves as the earthquake shook the floor out from under him and finding the heap of beautiful girl collapsed a few feet away. Her blond hair had flowed like a river of silk across the trembling dirt floor. Red had stained her white gown. Her virgin’s blood had opened the Gate. He’d been too late to save her.

  He would carry the slash on his soul into the Land of the Dead wi
th him. There was no magic that could remove his great dishonor. He realized, to his shock, that he missed the girl who had driven him mad with her insubordination. But that girl didn’t fit into his tightly controlled world. What could he do with her?

  Will shifted his weight. “You carry too many burdens, my friend. Let me shoulder some for you. Lucia is a liability. You should leave some part of your life for your own desires. Take a wife. A woman who will be loyal, who will make a hearth and home that will revive you when the burden of rule is too great. You don’t need to deny yourself that small gift.”

  “Any woman by my side becomes a target for my enemies.”

  “Lucia was never a good match for you. Her Aether skill is weak and she’s willful. You need someone peaceful. Someone who will stay put. If she follows orders and stays home—which the Crane is obviously incapable of—your mate won’t be in danger. Kivati Hall is impenetrable; we can protect her there. A woman would help ground you. The Lady never meant a man to live alone.”

  Corbette could see the woman Will would pick for him: a biddable, pretty young thing who would smile and entertain and never disagree with him. Grace and charm and soothing calm. Everything he’d once thought he wanted, but now it sounded stultifying.

  He turned to watch the waves of Puget Sound stretch out in shades of cerulean and steel. He could follow it north, out into the open ocean, and let the wind carry him to distant possibilities. Change, the Aether called, but he turned from the wild sea. “I let Kai live because I can’t afford to lose another general. We need four strong Thunderbirds to keep the Houses secure, and we only have three. If someone finds both the missing Tablet of Destiny and Tiamat’s Heart, we will need every scrap of manpower we have.”

  “And Asgard said Zetian is missing? Can we trust Kai to fight with us in that case?”

  “I believe the Thunderbird’s heart is in the right place, even if his dick isn’t.”

  Will caught his arm. “Are you sure you’re not letting your emotions rule your judgment, just like your father did?”

  Corbette shook off Will’s hold. Aether whipped around him, whirling and frothing like a snowmelt river around a boulder. The Aether was a river of shimmering, massless liquid that filled the universe. Since the Unraveling, it wasn’t right. No longer conducting electricity was the least of the problems this created. It surged through him, wrong, tainted, and sorrowful, and he could no longer depend on his power to manipulate it. How could he put the world right again? “The Crane is the key to it all, but I just can’t see how the Lady intends us to use her.”

  “Let me take care of her for you.”

  “Lock her in a cage like some exotic bird?”

  “I’ll marry the girl. I’ll keep her leashed. You won’t have to worry about her anymore.”

  And watch his most trusted adviser bed the woman he had planned to marry? He was a man of honor and discipline, but he wasn’t a saint. “I have it under control,” Corbette said. He resisted the urge to rub his temple as a migraine stabbed through him.

  Will raised an eyebrow. “And the rebellion?”

  “I have a plan to tie up our loose ends.” May the Lady grant him strength to see it through.

  Kivati Hall was overrun with people. They spilled out of the palatial mansion, past the cedar porch, and onto the green lawns. Even the slight drizzle didn’t chase them away. Ladies and gentlemen in their Sunday best, only slightly worn about the edges from the months of post-apocalyptic hell. Kingu had been defeated, and everyone wanted to see and be seen. Life could finally return to normal. The majesty and grace of the Kivati people had not been cowed.

  “Eyes up,” Delia hissed. “They’re here to see you. You met Kingu on the battlefield. Don’t let these geese intimidate you.”

  Lucia raised her chin, pasted on the ghost of her old haughty smile, and steeled herself for sharp cuts. The field was awash with striped umbrellas and bright splashes of yellow rain boots. As she passed beneath the spirit bells chiming in the wind and entered the imposing wrought-iron gate, a whisper spread through the crowd like wildfire. She started to sweat. She had expected public censure, but the expressions that greeted her were about half-and-half. Some nodded in approval. Others turned their backs in scorn. Lucia raised her chin and held Delia’s hand as she strolled down the long brick walk to the mansion’s front doors.

  Lady Alice, Corbette’s notorious sister, met her on the porch. Alice was the only Kivati Lucia had ever heard of willingly taking a Drekar mate. She didn’t know if Alice had been threatened with death; all she knew was that Alice and Brand had fled Seattle and stayed away for over a century. They’d only returned after the Unraveling. Her Drekar mate wasn’t welcome at the Hall, but Lucia had seen him before. He was everything one would expect from a Dreki: built, blond, and beautiful. Alice was tall and strong, with a sharp nose like her brother and long black hair with a hint of auburn. “I need to talk to you.”

  Delia tried to extricate her hand, but Lucia squeezed it tight. She didn’t want to be alone with Alice. She didn’t trust the gleam in the other woman’s eye.

  “Let’s go inside,” Alice said. Lucia followed, but dragged Delia beside her. She was nervous about Alice’s intentions, but even more curious. Alice hadn’t been seen in the Kivati territories since the Great Seattle Fire, when her father had been killed and Sven Norgard had burned the city to the ground. Afterward, Corbette had forbidden her name to be mentioned. Lucia had never known she existed until recently.

  Alice led the way to the conservatory. Inside, the air was humid. Flowering trees and exotic ferns crowded the tables. The roof and three walls were glass panels between a lattice of iron. Suspended from the ceiling was a miniature iron railroad track; a tea train, puffing peppermint steam, ran between the kitchens and the small round tables in a clover loop. The train stopped at each table to unload its fare. Each car held a different delicacy: cucumber and ginger sandwiches, cinnamon cookies, and scones with huckleberry preserves.

  This afternoon every seat was occupied, but Alice glared at some teenagers in the corner and they fled. She snapped her fingers, and a waiter cleared the table. Lucia closed her gaping mouth. She’d imagined Corbette’s sister to be the perfect Kivati lady—elegant, polite, and proper. But Alice had all of Corbette’s arrogance and none of his care for decorum. “Sit,” Alice ordered.

  Lucia sat with Delia beside her.

  A woman from the next table turned to her. “You did well, Crane.” The others from her table nodded in agreement.

  “Didn’t think you had it in you,” a man said. “It will be good to have a new direction.”

  Lucia smiled tightly. Most of these people hadn’t talked to her since the Unraveling. Overnight she’d become something of a sensation. Not an object of pity anymore, but a figurehead of a growing movement she didn’t want.

  She was not trying to overthrow Corbette. She would not.

  Farther down the room, she saw some of her cousins sitting with their parents—Milo, who’d not yet gone through his first Change, and Estelle, a girl only a little younger than Lucia. Estelle had gone on her vision quest and come back empty-handed. No totem gift from the Lady. No sacred powers, weak or otherwise. Every year there were more kids like her who didn’t make it, one of the reasons Corbette insisted Kivati marry Kivati, to keep their sacred blood and sacred powers pure. Milo waved. Estelle usually ignored her, jealous of Lucia’s Crane, but now she was watching her thoughtfully.

  Lucia wished she had some great wisdom to impart. She knew the feeling of being a disappointment all too well. Aether-weak with a long-awaited totem. Maybe it didn’t matter what gifts the Lady blessed you with, but the choices you made. Her gifts certainly hadn’t helped her in the battle with Kingu—the Crane wasn’t a fighter. She’d used a secret to blackmail Kai, completely without honor or gifts, and that little action seemed to have set a bomb off in Kivati Hall. Around them, Kivati lords and ladies openly debated the future of the race. For the first time in Lucia’s lif
e, the blind obedience that Corbette wielded was nowhere to be seen.

  “Tell me,” Alice said, drawing attention back to her. “How did you convince Kai?”

  Lucia only smiled and pushed the button in the middle of the table to call the tea train. The fickle sun had returned to its November roost behind the clouds. A raindrop or two splattered the glass ceiling. The train arrived with a burst of peppermint steam, and the tea caddy dropped down from the first car to fill her cup.

  “You can trust me, Lucia,” Alice said. “What is your next step? I’m not a pawn for my brother, if that’s your concern. We’ve never seen eye-to-eye on important issues, and anything—or any person—who upsets the status quo is of interest to me.”

  “No offense, but you’ve been gone for a long time to suddenly express deep interest in the affairs of the Kivati.”

  “I’ve kept well informed. The Crows are not loyal only to Emory.”

  Lucia slowly measured two scoops of colored sugar into her cup. “Watching is not the same as actively participating.”

  “What do you think this is, a democracy?” Alice laughed. “Emory crafted the perfect dictatorship, and he made it very clear what he would do to my mate if we ever returned. There’s been no room for dissent for a hundred years.” She leaned forward. “Until now.”

  Lucia took a fortifying sip of tea. She glanced to her sister. Delia stuffed a huckleberry scone in her mouth. No help from that corner. “Maybe I’ll look for a mate.” Delia choked, and Lucia had to pat her on the back. “Or not. I want to be useful to the Kivati. I’m not happy sitting on the sidelines and watching our people suffer.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear,” Alice said. “So what do you plan to do about it? Join with Kai? Ally with a Dreki and really shake things up?”