“Out here,” Turesobei replied, “Kemsu is the indispensable one. I don’t know this land well enough to survive on my own. Not yet, anyway.”
Kemsu bowed his head. “Thank you, but I’m fine. Banged up, some deep bruises … exhausted … think they jarred a tooth loose. No big problem.”
Turesobei frowned. “I can fix all of that with a simple spell, but if you were to somehow get seriously injured in the next few days, I wouldn’t be able to help you again.”
“I’ll suffer through it then,” Kemsu said. “I’ve been attacked by a snow bear cub before. That was a lot worse than this.”
Iniru snorted. “A cub?”
“Don’t laugh,” Kemsu told her. “The cub was nearly as big as Motekeru.”
She twitched an eyebrow dubiously, then shrugged. “If you say so … Sobei, I’ll take the healing. Those knobs cracked three of my ribs. That could take weeks to heal on its own, and I’d like to be full strength when we face … whatever it is we’ll face this time.”
Turesobei nodded. “I figured as much the way you winced, and I can tell you’re struggling to breathe.”
Kemsu shook his head. “How do you do that, Iniru? When you were fighting and walking and riding, I couldn’t even tell something was wrong with you. It’s amazing.”
“It’s really not all that amazing,” she said. “I’ve been training since I was a little girl. One of the first lessons I learned was how to block out pain. And you really don’t want to know how they train kids to do that.”
“Sounds terrible,” Kemsu replied.
“I had a choice. I didn’t have to be a qengai.”
“I kind of doubt that,” Turesobei told her.
“You think I’m lying?”
“No. It’s just that I was given a choice to be a wizard. But it was a formality. It’s not like I could really say no.”
“Oh, I had more choice than that. It would have been a big disappointment for my family, but if I didn’t want to or couldn’t handle it once the training started, they would have shipped me off to a peaceful maka centered on farming.”
“What’s a maka?” Kemsu asked.
“A k’chasan tribal village,” Iniru said.
Motekeru groaned.
“Something wrong?” Turesobei asked him.
The jagged face stared at him. “I do not like discussing choices. I am going to shut down for a while.”
The fires in his eyes dimmed, and his head sank until his chin touched his chest.
“What was that about?” Kemsu asked.
Turesobei shrugged. He had no idea.
“Have you ever seen him do that before?” Iniru asked.
“No,” Turesobei said. “But look at him. He’s taken a lot of damage since he came back. He’s tough, but the yomon and the Deadly Twelve, the reitsu, the knobs … he deserves a good rest, I think. Lu Bei, have you ever seen him rest before?” The fetch didn’t answer. Turesobei felt the spine of the diary, then breathed a sigh of relief. He could feel Lu Bei’s kenja heartbeat. “I think he’s exhausted, too.”
“Well, let’s get to healing me,” Iniru said.
She grabbed the bottom of her shirt and lifted it up slowly, revealing the downy fur that rippled across her muscled abs. She pulled the shirt up further. A deep splotch of purple showed, even through the fur on her ribs. She pulled farther, bringing the shirt right up to her small breasts.
“Whoa!” Turesobei spun around. He slapped Kemsu on the shoulder, but it wasn’t necessary. He had turned around, too. Of course, Turesobei didn’t want to be turned around. But he should do the right thing. Although, was it the right thing if he was an adult here? And Iniru was considered an adult by her people. No one was here to stop him from looking … she didn’t mind … surely that made it okay … but still … he couldn’t … could he?
“Turesobei, I’m waiting.”
“You … you didn’t have to … you know … remove your shirt,” he replied.
Iniru sighed. “You’re such prudes. Both of you. You can turn around.”
“But, Iniru, I —”
“I didn’t take my shirt off, dummy.”
Turesobei turned back. Iniru had rolled her shirt up so that it fit tightly under her small breasts, leaving her stomach exposed.
“For starters,” she said, “it’s still way too cold in here for stripping down. For seconds, I know your cultures are weird about topless girls. I only rolled my shirt up because I remembered you saying that healing magic worked better on bare skin … or fur, in my case.”
“Well, it does, but it’s not a huge difference.”
“I’ll take what I can get. Now heal me. This hurts really bad, and I’m not in the mood for your silliness.”
Nervously, Turesobei slid over to her. “I have to warn you, this healing spell … it’s not pleasant like the other one. Lean back a bit … please.”
Still kneeling, she bent backward, far enough that it made Turesobei’s spine itch. He was certain he’d break if he tried doing that. He chanted the spell of winter healing. A silvery fog formed just under his hands, drifted down onto her fur, and seeped in. Her ribcage glowed. Her eyes turned to saucers, and she surged up.
“Kaiwen Earth-Mother!” she shouted. She stuck her claws into his neck, seizing him tight. “That hurts!”
“Ow! So does that,” he said.
She retracted her claws and released him. “Sorry.”
Turesobei, his palms still glowing with some of the magic, slid his hands up along her ribcage. He’d forgotten how soft her fur was. They hadn’t been this close since they’d crowded into a tiny tent in Batsakun while a storm raged over them. He slid his hands up a little further. He caught himself and pulled back.
“Sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be,” she purred. “Ah … finally … the pain’s stopped. It’s just cold now.” She leaned forward, took his head into her hands, and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. He squirmed, feeling overly self-conscious — Kemsu was right there.
She pulled back and shook her head. “Feeling a bit dizzy.”
“It’s the spell,” Turesobei lamented. “As the cold spreads, you start to relax and become groggy, maybe even a bit disoriented …”
“Well … that just stinks,” she replied.
Turesobei, despite his excitement, was relieved. This wasn’t the time for … he didn’t know what it wasn’t the time for, just that it wasn’t.
Iniru spotted Kemsu, who was fidgeting and looking highly uncomfortable and highly disgruntled.
“Aw, poor, poor Kemsu,” Iniru cooed. She leaned over and patted his face. “Don’t be jealous.”
Kemsu shifted and tried to look away. “I — I — I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” She scooted up and kissed him on the lips.
She lingered!
Turesobei’s heart thundered. His head throbbed. Time slowed to a standstill. What — what in Torment was that?
Iniru ruffled Kemsu’s hair. “That better?”
“I — I mean … um …” Kemsu couldn’t think of anything to say.
Turesobei wanted to shout at Kemsu. Maybe hit him. And Iniru … he wanted to tell her that she might lose out to Kurine, that he might choose her instead because that would … make her jealous? Would that even work? Or would she just get incredibly mad at him for being mean? He didn’t understand what was going on, and dealing with Iniru … it was like casting a dangerous spell that he could never understand.
Iniru smiled, self-satisfied, grabbed up the blanket and snuggled up with her back against Kemsu. She motioned to Turesobei. “Come on, scoot over. Don’t let all the body heat go to waste.”
She held out her arms, and he snuggled into her embrace. He started to say something, anything, but she put a finger to his lips and shook her head. Then she fell asleep instantly, snoring or purring — it was hard to tell. Turesobei craned his head back and shared a brief, incredibly awkward look with Kemsu.
Turesobei was so incredib
ly tired. He wanted to sleep. But his head swam with confusion, and his heart pounded. He stared, open-eyed into the darkness. She had kissed Kemsu. Why? Because of his engagement to Kurine? Because she liked Kemsu, too? The k’chasans did have weird rules about marriages with multiple partners. He’d read a little about it, and Iniru had tried to explain it to him. It never sank in. He just could never wrap his head around it.
After an hour of worry, exhaustion finally overtook him.
* * *
They ate breakfast at noon and pretended everything was normal. Or at least, he and Kemsu pretended everything was normal.
“I’m going out to hunt,” Kemsu said. “I won’t go far.”
Turesobei cast the spell of sensing presences. “I’m picking up some small creatures not far off to the east. No sign of the reitsu. Is it too much to hope the wraiths stumbled into the knobs?”
“Probably,” Kemsu said. “You coming with me, Iniru?”
She patted her ribs. “I should probably avoid doing anything unnecessary today.”
“Right,” Kemsu replied. He hovered, reluctant to leave, then finally stepped out.
Motekeru followed him outside to check on the sonoke and keep watch in case Kemsu ran into trouble.
“What was that?” Turesobei said to Iniru, now that they were alone.
“What was what?” Iniru asked.
“Last night.”
“Oh, that. It was nothing.”
“It was a lot more than nothing,” Turesobei said. “It was most definitely … well … something.”
Iniru kissed a finger, and then touched it to his nose. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.”
“I’ve been flustered all night! I don’t get it. Do you like Kemsu?”
“Don’t you?”
“Not really. He’s okay. I mean …”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t, or I wouldn’t ask you.”
“You do know, and you’re having fun at my expense, and I’m tired of it.” He stood, but she grabbed his hand and tugged him back down.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Last night … that wasn't okay with you?”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Well, it wasn’t okay with me when you kissed Kurine. Twice. It was just twice, right?”
“Well … it was … three times … I think.”
“You think?” she asked. “Three times, you think? I’m really not sure that you do think. If you can kiss other girls while you’re in love with me, and then betroth yourself to them, then I get to kiss any boys I like. That’s only fair, don’t you think?”
“I guess — wait, no, it’s not fair. I just want to be with you, and I didn’t intend all that with Kurine. It’s not my fault. I mean, the second kiss … and the third … sure, those were my fault. I was stupid, but —”
“Yep, you are stupid. But also … you do like her.”
“She’s okay,” he replied.
“I’m not clueless, Sobei. Whether you admit to it or not, you like Kurine … a lot. Maybe not as much as you like me, but a lot.”
“I’d walk into Torment for you.”
“I know that. But if you want this to be about just you and me, well you should have said so.”
“I would have, but we haven’t really had time to talk about us. I don’t even know what our relationship is.”
“We’re just friends,” she said sadly. “We are nothing more than that, Sobei.”
“You don’t love me?!”
“Oh, of course I do. Why else would I be jealous of Kurine? I come from a culture that would accept you having two girlfriends, and I still don’t like it, because I want only you.”
“I think of you as my girlfriend.”
“That’s great, really. But just don’t get any grand ideas. Remember after the Storm Dragon’s Heart, how you and I just couldn’t be together no matter what? I thought you understood. Your people will never accept me, and my culture is very different from yours. If you’re going back home, we’re never going to be a proper couple. No matter how much we love one another. And this thing with Kurine, I know it won’t last either, not if you return to Ekaran. It will end just like it did with me.”
"I risked everything for you, Iniru."
“Do you really think that will change anything when you get back? That suddenly you'll be able to say, ‘Hey everyone, guess what, I've decided I'm going to marry the k'chasan qengai after all, and we'll live together happily ever after and I won't have an aristocratic baojendari wife, and you will all just have to deal with it?’”
“I could make them change,” he said, half-heartedly. “Make them accept you.”
“No, you can’t. If anything, it will be worse when you get back. They won’t ever take their eyes off you, and you’ll be forced into a marriage. Look, I just figured that we’d have a bit of fun until you got back. I never expected Kurine and the betrothal. But it is what it is, and we know what will happen when we return. I figure we just keeping loving one another, and let’s just have fun whenever we can and not worry about having any rules. You like Kurine. That's fine. Just say so. And I think Kemsu is cute, and he's fun. Nothing special. But that's okay, too.”
“But that’s not what I want, Niru.”
“You can’t have what you want. You don’t even really know what you want. And even if you figured it out, it wouldn’t last.”
Kemsu returned, shaking his head. “Whatever you detected, Turesobei, it was gone by the time I got out there. We’ll have to stick to rations. One good thing, though. The snow has nearly stopped falling.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Five days later, under a languid, crimson sun, Turesobei, Iniru, Kemsu, and Motekeru stood outside the entrance to the cave Satsupan’s directions had led them to. The stone door blocking the cave entrance was engraved with strange markings that none of them could read. It seemed more like a burial mound than a nozakami’s cave. The hill the entrance led into was a small, solitary rise amidst miles of flat plain.
Despite terrible screeching noises echoing across the ice during the last several days and nights, they had avoided nasty encounters with beasts or demons. But that was only because Turesobei had used his magic to detect where the kagi were so they could navigate around them.
Lu Bei fluttered down from having scouted above. “This hill has been here for centuries, but I don’t think it’s natural.”
“So you think it is a tomb then?” Iniru asked.
Turesobei shrugged. “Perhaps. Or maybe it’s an abandoned shrine. This is a dangerous world. Long lost worshipers may have shut the cave off to protect their goddess.”
Turesobei knelt in front of the door and opened his kenja-sight. Strong earth and plant kenja flowed up to the cave door but went no further. He cast the spell of sensing presences.
“I’m detecting four kagi, not that far within. One is a lot closer to us than the others, but it’s not right inside the door … I’d say forty paces within. These are pretty nasty beasts, judging by the strength of their signatures.” He stood. “Let’s prepare ourselves.”
“What do you have in mind?” Iniru said.
“Without spell strips, it’s pretty hard to cast spells fast enough to do much good, especially here. The air magic is so strong that I have to be careful using it, while fire kenja is poor and earth kenja is diminished, though not in this case. And I need to avoid anything resembling storm kenja, for obvious reasons.”
“So …” prompted Iniru.
“So I’d like to use all my magical efforts before we go in. I’m going to place some spells on you, Iniru. They will feel … tingly. You might find them uncomfortable, like your skin is burning. Most people do. I’ve grown used to it, barely even notice now. You’re tough — I think you can handle it just fine. Once the magic is active, it won’t last long. So we need to push forward quickly, but carefully.”
Turesobei stepped up to Iniru,
took her hands, and cast low-powered, short-lived versions of the spell of the strength of three men and the spell of prodigious leaping on her.
She took in a deep breath and stumbled back. “Yikes. My skin is burning … all over. Like a bad rash. A really, really bad rash.”
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked.
“I can manage it.”
“Pick up Motekeru,” Turesobei said.
Reluctantly, she grabbed the machine man by the waist and lifted him, only straining a little. “Wow!” She flexed her muscles. “This is awesome.”
“Try a few jumps. Be careful.”
Iniru leapt ten feet straight up with a cautious jump. When she landed, her eyes were wide. On the next, she pushed it and reached twenty.
“Moshinga of the Mountains!” she exclaimed. “That was awesome. You have fun spells! And we’ve never used them before!”
Her next leap, however, only took her only five feet up.
“What gives?” Iniru asked.
“It’s a weak version. I wanted you to get a feel for it first.”
“That was the weak one? So, will the regular version sting more? Because that felt like I’d fallen into an ant bed without bothering to get up.”
“Yeah … sorry. You must be sensitive. Maybe because you’re k’chasan. When I put the big one on you, the magic will remain dormant for up to a quarter-hour, if we’re lucky. I will activate it when we need it.”
She scratched thoughtfully behind her ear. “So why haven’t you let me do that before?”
“Never had a chance, really.”
“On the trip back from Wakaro,” she suggested.
“I guess so. Enashoma got mad at me in Sooku because I had never cast a spell to let her levitate before, so —”
“You could make me levitate?!” she said, flustered. “I just assumed that was all stuff that only you could do. I didn’t know you were holding out on me.”
“It’s a lot easier to cast spells on myself, and they last longer. Like I told Shoma, I never thought about magic being something that could be fun. It was just another thing I did, like you would do a fighting maneuver. It wasn’t fun when I did my first levitation spell because it was so much work. I was exhausted, and Grandfather scolded me for not having done it just right. And if I ever tried to play while under a spell I got punished.”
Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3 Page 81