She focused on the ache that arose within her whenever she thought of the stolen frost, and on the name of a city she had never been to: Darbon. The rihnemin’s violet glow pulsed, became a cloud that engulfed her and her horse and Urstadt and Selldor and Rorie and…
Winter blinked, the cloud fading. She stood in a very different place than the eastern plains. There was no rihnemin here, not that she could see.
But there was a city.
* * *
Winter moved as silently as she could between great trees that blocked the sun from view, leaves drifting lazily from the branches above in flakes of brown and orange.
“You are sure they are nearby?” Urstadt asked.
“I am sure.”
You are sure they are nearby? Winter asked Kali.
Kali laughed. I am sure. Their ability to communicate while Kali was in the Void was improving; Winter did not know whether she liked that improvement. While it certainly made things easier, Winter could never be sure when Kali was there and when she wasn’t, unless she cut Kali off completely.
Winter paid close attention to the ground beneath her, watching for unnatural disturbances in the leaves, broken branches and twigs from the smaller foliage, and other signs of recent passage. If she caught a trail, it would almost certainly be Mazille’s. Assuming Kali was telling her the truth.
Don’t forget your promise, Kali said.
I’ve given you my word. I’ll get you what you need.
Winter crouched. “Here,” she said quietly, pointing at broken and disturbed leaves. “People have passed through here recently.”
This has to be them, Kali’s voice echoed in Winter’s head.
It bloody better be.
Winter held up one hand, and they all stopped. Voices came faintly to them on the breeze. They were in the right place.
Just the thought of regaining her faltira hoard thrilled her. The days of withdrawal she’d gone through after the theft, before she’d been able to procure more, had been almost unbearable.
The band crept through the leaves until they came upon a group in a clearing gathered around the remains of charred, extinguished fire. Mazille, a large tiellan woman, sat at the edge of the clearing, leaning against a tree trunk that was wider than Winter could reach with both arms outstretched. Her five fellow psimancers were still with her.
These are the six? Kali asked.
Yes. We’ve found them.
Suddenly, the youngest of the band—Vlak, hardly more than fifteen summers—stood sharply. He said something to the others, something Winter could not hear. Almost as one, the five moved toward Mazille at a word from her. Winter could hear the hysteria in their voices, high and tight.
Mazille was giving them frost. Winter’s frost.
It was the last taste of faltira any of them would ever have.
One of them is a voyant.
Kali cursed in Winter’s head. You could have told me that earlier. If you’re dealing with a voyant, you’ll—
I’ll be fine.
Winter slipped another faltira crystal in her mouth and almost immediately felt the drug’s effects.
Their voyant has informed them we’re here, Winter told Kali. But I don’t think he knows where we are, or what we’re about to do.
Be thankful for that. Means he isn’t that powerful, or he hasn’t learned to harness his power yet, at least. Apparently not all tiellans catch on as quickly as you do.
Winter motioned to her companions. They had agreed she would go in alone, first, and that they would only act as a backup, in case things went south for Winter.
She did not foresee that happening.
Kali’s voice echoed in her head. I hope you know what you’re doing. You’re my only ticket out of this place. If you die—
Kali, Winter’s thought was firm in her mind, and Kali stopped speaking. If you really care about what happens to me, give me a moment of silence. Let me concentrate.
Kali, blessedly, obeyed.
Winter stood from where she crouched in the foliage. One of the thieves spotted her almost immediately, shouting a warning to the others. Winter recognized him as Orsolya, one of the telenics. He and one of the others, Astasios, were siblings. She remembered their light brown, almost golden eyes.
Before the others could even turn to regard her, tendra burst from Winter. She sent ten tendra to each one of her enemies. Overkill—she needed only one or two for each person—but she would take no chances. And she wanted these people to witness her power.
She stripped them of their weapons first. The bows, then the daggers and swords in plain sight. They might have other weapons, and Winter would strip them of those as well, as the opportunities presented themselves. She sensed tendra moving toward her from each of the telenics: Mazille, Orsolya, and Astasios. The siblings attacked her with two each, while Mazille was able to summon more—seven that Winter could sense. Winter dedicated eleven of her own tendra exclusively to cutting off theirs at every turn, as Nash had taught her, breaking their hold on anything they came in contact with.
The acumens, Phares and Opal, attacked next. They were both older tiellans, Phares an old man with long silver hair, a stooped posture, and wrinkling skin; Opal stood at least a head taller than Winter, astoundingly tall for a tiellan woman, her limbs thin and wiry.
Winter felt the acumenic tendra slide toward her, nine in total, seeking to penetrate her mind.
Kali, Winter called.
I see them. I can handle nine tendra from my end, no problem. While telenic tendra had no manifestation in the Void, and both telenic and acumenic tendra were completely invisible in reality—Winter could sense where they were, but could not see them—acumenic tendra were visible in the Void. Winter could probably handle these tendra on her own, but she wanted to show as much strength as possible. The tiellan psimancers would likely not realize that someone else was helping Winter from the Void. They would think this was all her.
She wanted them to fear her as much as possible, before they died.
Do it, Winter ordered. Your freedom depends on it, as you said.
Winter lifted the psimancers from the ground, using their clothing to gain a hold. Telenic tendra could only interact with non-living objects, while acumenic tendra had the opposite limitation: they could only interact with the living.
She pinned each of her enemies against a tree.
For a moment, Winter’s mind flashed back to Izet. She had done something like this once before, on the orders of the Emperor Daval, then avatar of Azael. She had pinned a man against a wall, and had sent every weapon in the room at his vulnerable, helpless body.
Was she as much a monster as Daval ever was?
Winter shook the thought from her mind, and strode forward into the center of the clearing.
“Search the camp,” she said. “Find my faltira.” The moment she said it, Urstadt, Selldor, and Rorie slipped from their hiding places and moved past her to rummage in the belongings of the captives.
The psimancers struggled against Winter’s tendra. The telenics tried to break her hold on them with their own, but Winter cut them off at every turn. It was as easy as swatting a child’s hand away from a sweet roll before dinner.
“How did you find us?” Mazille asked, her voice strained. It could not be comfortable to be hanging by one’s clothes.
No, Winter thought. This will not do. Not all of the tiellans could see her, so she moved several of them to different trees so they all were pinned within her field of vision. One of them, Vlak, cried out as he was violently moved through the air to a different tree.
That’s better.
“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t?” Winter asked.
She was met with silence. At least they weren’t begging for their lives. That much was to their credit.
“No,” Winter said slowly, answering her own question. “You always knew I would seek you out, eventually. You just didn’t think I’d find you this quickly.”
Yo
u have me to thank for that, Kali said softly.
If you want your freedom, you’ll keep silent until this is through.
“You know what I want,” Winter continued. “Where is the faltira?”
The captives said nothing.
Very well.
With one tendra, Winter took one of the daggers that she’d torn from a belt. Slowly, she sent it through the air until it hung, perfectly still, in front of one of young Vlak’s eyes.
He reminds you of Lian.
Winter frowned. That voice was not Kali’s. But she was not sure it was hers, either. But it was true; from the moment Winter had first seen Vlak in Adimora, she’d had that thought. The boy had light hair and light eyes, and a long, pensive face just like Lian.
It doesn’t matter that he reminds me of Lian. I’ll do what I have to do.
What are you talking about? Kali asked.
Winter ignored her. “Vlak will lose an eye, first. He’ll lose more than that, the longer you refuse to speak to me. And when I’m through with him, I’ll cut through the rest of you.
“The path you are on will not save the tiellan people,” Mazille said.
Winter laughed. “I hardly think a thief cares about the tiellan plight.”
“You think you are helping our people, but you are leading them to destruction.”
The fake smile faded from Winter’s face. “And why do you think this?”
“We know it,” Vlak said. “I’ve seen the destruction of our people.” He was staring wildly at the dagger, just a hair’s breadth away from his eye. “At your hands.”
Winter tutted. “You’ve ‘seen’ it? And I’m supposed to believe the word of a child?”
He reminds you of Lian.
“I’m a voyant,” Vlak said.
“You’ve known you’re a voyant for how long, now? At your age, it can’t be more than a year. And you truly think you understand your powers, what your visions mean, at this stage?”
“That’s all the time you’ve known you’re a psimancer,” Phares growled at her. His voice was low and rasping. “What makes you think you’re any different than he?”
“I’m not,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t understand a hundredth of what I can do. But I understand enough to defeat the six of you, and that seems to settle a few things, in my mind. I’m the best hope our people have had in centuries at regaining some of their power.”
“If you’re our best hope, then we’re doomed,” Mazille said.
Winter was losing her patience, the stolen faltira still on her mind. And yet…
“Tell me your vision,” Winter said. “We can confront it together.”
“He’ll only tell you if you promise to spare us,” Mazille said, a mite too quickly.
Winter smiled. So that was it.
“That’s your bargaining chip, then? This ‘vision’ you’ve seen?”
Mazille shifted in the tendra net. “If you really want to know how you can save our people, you’ll spare us.”
Urstadt approached Winter, a leather satchel in one hand. “Your Majesty.”
Winter peered inside to see the satchel’s contents. A few dozen faltira crystals. Each crystal was roughly the size of the last joint of a man’s thumb, ranging in color from clear to crystal blue.
That was not enough. Not nearly enough.
“Your Majesty?” Mazille laughed. “So the rumors are true. The tiellans have made you their queen. Queen of Chaos. They’ll have only themselves to blame.”
Winter looked at Urstadt. “That’s all you found?”
“That’s all, Your Majesty.”
Winter turned her gaze back to Mazille, eyes hooded. “Where is my faltira, Mazille?”
“That isn’t it,” she said, nodding at the satchel Urstadt held. “That’s what we’ve procured for ourselves, separate from yours. We’ll give the rest back to you, all of it that’s left, but only if you let us go.”
Winter’s anger flared. “All of it that’s left?”
“We’ve been using it, of course. Combined with what we’ve procured there, it might be close to what we took from you—”
“What you stole.”
“Yes, what we stole from you. But you can’t possibly have expected us not to use any of it.”
Winter glared at Mazille. “Then you cannot possibly expect me not to take it back. If I can’t have faltira, I’ll settle for blood.”
“If you—”
“Where is it?” Winter asked.
“If you let one of us go first, I’ll—”
Winter wrenched the dagger away from Vlak. If the boy truly had seen something, it might be worth sparing his life. Everyone else, however, was expendable. She moved the dagger slowly until it hovered before Opal.
“You told me,” Winter said, “when we first met in Adimora, that Opal had been with you the longest. She will be the first to go, unless you tell me where my faltira is. Now.”
Mazille’s eyes were wide and wild, now. “If you’d just—”
Winter did not have time for that. She shoved the dagger straight into Opal’s eye. The psimancers screamed as one.
Winter was aware of Urstadt shifting uncomfortably beside her, but she paid her general no mind.
“The location of my faltira,” Winter said. She was already picking up another weapon, a sword, with a tendra and sending it toward the still-moaning Opal. “If I’m honest with you, I’m not sure she’ll live,” Winter said. “I can kill her now, quickly, if you like. Or let her die slowly. The choice is yours. Of course, either way, if you don’t tell me where my faltira is, I’ll just move on to the next one of you.”
“Winter, please, let us go first,” Mazille begged. Begged.
Winter shifted the sword over to Orsolya. She plunged the sword into the man’s gut, and he writhed in pain.
What are you doing? Mazille will tell you where the faltira is if you just let them go. You don’t need this violence.
Yes, you do, Kali responded. Winter cursed the woman again for being in her head. They stole from you once. They will do it again, given the chance.
So don’t give them the chance.
“All right!” Mazille shouted, her head craned at an odd angle as she watched Orsolya in horror. “I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you where it is, but please don’t hurt us any more.”
“Give me a location, now,” Winter said, as she lifted an arrow shaft with another tendra and left it hovering in front of Phares.
“It’s buried,” Mazille blurted, tears streaming down her face. “Not far from here. I can show you, I can—”
“You’ll describe the exact location to us, and Urstadt will dig it up. When she comes back, and we know whether or not you’re lying—”
“I’m not, bloody bones, I’m not!”
“—then we will decide our next course of action. Now, the location.”
Mazille described, in panicked, choppy sentences, an area southwest of the hill on which they’d camped, near a boulder, by a particular tree. When Mazille had finished, Winter looked to Urstadt.
“That enough for you?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Then go. Selldor, you may as well stay with me. I know you’ll insist on it. Rorie, accompany Urstadt.”
Selldor nodded, while Rorie followed Urstadt. The two picked up shovels from the camp on their way to the spot Mazille had described.
Winter turned back to the psimancers, still hanging by her tendra. Her faltira would wear out soon.
She looked at Vlak. They were probably lying about this vision the lad had experienced, but Winter needed to know for herself. She sent an acumenic tendron into the boy’s mind.
The boy has no protection?
No, Kali replied. An oversight on their part.
Winter had learned the art of weaving protective webs around the minds of those she did not want delved by acumen spies. It was a complicated matter, involving creating a network of tendra around a person’s sift in the Void. When di
ssolved, the ghost of what was left behind was enough to protect against all but the most powerful and direct acumenic onslaughts. Winter had practiced the skill until she became proficient.
Why had Opal or Phares not taken measures to protect Vlak?
* * *
She—Vlak—was alone, in a tent. Snow covered the ground and whipped through the open tent flap. Slowly, Vlak stood, and walked out into the cold.
The morning sun was low on the horizon, the sky clear, almost white. His tent was one of hundreds. Outside each one were the frozen bodies of tiellans, their skin mottled and frosted over. The oldest bodies had been picked over by scavengers before the cold set in. An eye missing here, a chunk of flesh from the cheek there, an arm ending in a mess of old brown blood and protruding bone somewhere else. Many of the corpses were far too small: children, babies, even. Others were old, crippled and shriveled long before the cold got a hold of them. Vlak’s gaze didn’t linger.
Bundled in furs, Vlak walked out of the camp. But the frozen graveyard did not end there.
Human and tiellan corpses, young soldiers both male and female, littered the snow-swept plain. These corpses, too, were frozen solid, just like the ones in the huge camp. Among the human and tiellan bodies were other carcasses, some Winter recognized—the Outsiders she had seen enter the Sfaera in Izet—and others she did not. Vlak looked on in horror at the monstrous bodies, twisted and frozen in the cold.
At this point, the vision shifted, swirling inward on itself and then exploding into a different scene.
Adimora. Or, it was once Adimora. Winter would not have recognized it if it weren’t for the surrounding plains, the River Setso, the Eastmaw Mountains in the distance, and most of all the Spear of the Gods: the massive rihnemin at the very center. The city itself was gone. In its place was a massive crater, blackened death and smoking ruin, where the great underground city had once been. Only the Spear of the Gods remained, although it was no longer buried, but an obelisk the size of a mountain jutting up from the nadir of the crater.
Adimora, last stronghold of the tiellans, was gone.
Between the thousands of tiellan bodies at the frozen camp, and now the desolation that had once been Adimora, the tiellan race was no more.
Chaos Queen--Fear the Stars (Chaos Queen 4) Page 5