Torn By War: 4 (The Death Wizard Chronicles)

by Melvin, Jim

  Now they had no water and were still a full day’s march from the oasis. Though it hurt him deeply, Aya was forced to call off the search for other survivors. If they didn’t start toward Wuul soon, they would lose more than fifteen.

  On their way to Wuul, they discovered the tracks of several hundred fiends that had made it through the pass and appeared to be headed toward the oasis—with a considerable head start. But the Tugars were in no shape for a chase. The inhabitants of Wuul were on their own.

  At dawn, their hopes were renewed. Illī, the Beydoos, and the camels appeared at the crest of a dune. The water they brought came none too soon.

  As for the fiends who escaped the rockslide, they did not survive their assault on Wuul. Kithar’s makeshift army put up a remarkable fight—and when Rati, his Tugars, and their Beydoo escorts arrived as reinforcements, it became a rout.

  Despite the apparent victory, other fiends haunted the desert for days to come.

  Including one in particular.

  TATHAGATA STOOD on the dagger-sharp crest of a towering fossil dune. The squirming mass of undines that inhabited her body sensed the destruction of the army of fiends, causing her to scream with despair. Immediately the moth in her ear seized the opportunity to incite more hatred.

  “The Tugars must pay for this blasphemy!”

  Instead of screaming, the monster snarled.

  “And imagine how big you’ll grow when it’s Tugarian flesh you’re eating,” the moth whispered.

  What remained of the High Nun’s sanity whispered back, barely audible. “We eat and are eaten. But life goes on.”

  “Don’t listen to her!” the moth said. “She is weak and stupid. You are strong and wise. Listen to me . . . instead. Vengeance is sweet.”

  “Even horror can bring awakening,” sanity responded.

  But the monster that Tathagata had become paid little heed to sanity. The moth’s proclamations rang truer. Vengeance would be sweet. The Tugars would pay. Perhaps, when she was finished with the warriors, all others would pay too.

  On the same morning that Mala’s army arrived at Nissaya, Sister Tathagata arrived at the Tent City.

  Only she was bigger, stronger, and a good deal meaner than she used to be.

  To make matters worse, the Simōōn was not in place to stop her.

  3

  LUCIUS LED THE Daasa a league into Dhutanga, calling a halt before they penetrated deeply enough to be at serious risk from the will of the black trees. In this location, an ordinary blend of hardwoods and conifers continued to dominate their surroundings. As dusk approached, the Daasa leapt into the roiling foam of Cariya, the deadly currents and hidden boulders providing more opportunities for play. Once again, their behavior charmed the firstborn, causing him to dread the upcoming battle more than ever. Though they were formidable in their “meanie” state, it was probable that many of the Daasa would not survive their encounter with the druids. Losing just one more would break Lucius’ heart. How could he bear the death of hundreds or thousands?

  Part of him wanted to cross back over the river and flee eastward to the Mahaggatas. Within those dense mountains were countless places to hide until the wars were over. When Invictus prevailed, it still might be months before Mala deemed them important enough to hunt down. Months! How blissful that would be. The Daasa might even make new homes in the forests of the valleys, becoming as innocuous as deer.

  Bonny approached silently, startling him.

  “I have never seen you look so troubled,” the pirate woman said. “And that’s saying something. I know you are not scared, but are you having second thoughts?”

  “Can you read my mind?”

  “You are the love of my life. That’s just about the same thing as being able to read your mind.”

  Lucius kissed her on the mouth. “You’re right on both counts. I’m not afraid, but I am having second thoughts. The Daasa will be outnumbered against a terrible foe. How many will perish?”

  “Such is war,” Bonny said.

  “This is my war, not yours or theirs.”

  “The Daasa didn’t ask to be enslaved. I didn’t ask for a golden soldier to rape my mommy. So, yes, it’s our war, too—and I would fight even if I had never met you.”

  “Bonny . . . I’m sorry. You didn’t tell me your mother was raped.”

  “There are some things better left unsaid, even to the man you love.” Then she stepped back and glared at him, her eyes ablaze. “Lucius, it will feel good to do some killing. To be honest, I am looking forward to it.”

  “Will it feel good to the Daasa?”

  Bonny’s eyes remained full of fire. “It will hurt them. It always does. But they have some avenging to do too.”

  In the middle of the night, Lucius and Bonny wandered to a distant place and made love. To Lucius, it felt like their final encounter. Though he had never been a soothsayer, he couldn’t shake a sense of impending doom. It had taken his entire life to find freedom and happiness; yet he had been permitted to enjoy it for just a few short weeks. Life could be so unfair. Watching some of the Daasa die would be bad enough, but watching Bonny die? He didn’t believe he could survive it.

  As she slept naked beside him, returned again to her “nicey” state, Lucius lay on his side, head propped on his elbow, and studied her. Everything about her brought him pleasure, from her round, pretty face to her muscular body. Laylah would be in danger tomorrow, as well; yet Lucius found himself thinking only of his new love. He managed an ironic laugh, which woke her.

  “What is it, sweety?” she said, with a sleepy smile.

  “No matter what happens tomorrow, there is something I need to say. You told me earlier that I am the love of your life. Well, it’s time for me to say the same to you. There are no doubts anymore. And there never will be again. I love you, Bonny, with all my heart. I would take you across the sea with me and never return, if I could.”

  Tears slid from the corners of her eyes, but she said nothing in response.

  Before dawn, the sound of humming awakened them. Though it was low and distant, it was extremely unpleasant, as if designed to instill madness. Lucius felt the now-familiar feeling of his face beginning to flush and swell, and it took a considerable amount of effort to resist changing to his “meanie” self. He looked over at Bonny and saw that she too appeared agitated.

  When they returned to the Daasa, they found the pink creatures milling about nervously. Lucius feared they might charge off, without warning, in the direction of the sickening sound. But when he calmly went about the business of preparing a small meal, his behavior seemed to encourage the Daasa and relax them.

  “The druids are probably ten leagues from here,” Lucius said to Bonny in a monotone voice. “What’s going to happen when the Daasa actually see them? Will I have any control?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” Bonny said. “But somehow I think it’ll be all right.”

  Before returning to Jivita, the white horsemen had provided Lucius and Bonny with ample supplies. While the Daasa foraged for nuts, bark, and spring berries, Lucius and his lover ate potatoes and onions fried in pork fat, followed by dried blackberries to sweeten their breath. Afterward they went their separate ways to relieve themselves. When he was finished, Lucius knelt down on the west bank of Cariya and filled his skin. A pair of Daasa sidled up next to him and licked his face, causing him to splutter and laugh.

  “If you had any idea what’s about to happen, you wouldn’t be doing that,” he said. The Daasa were not dismayed. Instead, they rolled onto their backs and invited Lucius to scratch their bowl-shaped stomachs. He laughed again.

  Lucius met Bonny by the fire. Both packed their gear and broke camp, trudging westward through the forest, with the Daasa following happily along, scrambling up and down trees, wrestling with each other, and making a considerable commotion. Lucius wished he could quiet them down, but whenever he tried, they became even more raucous. However, by noon the humming sound had grown loud enough to drown
out the Daasa and all other living things. Lucius began to despise it.

  Eventually, the humming became a tangible force, creating fear, frustration, and disorientation. Was it possible the sound could grow even louder? If so, the druids might win the war without having to fight.

  In the early afternoon, Lucius called another halt, sat down on the trunk of a fallen poplar, and covered his ears with his hands. He felt hot all over and out of breath, and he found himself struggling with an increased desire to change. He believed that once he transformed into the “meanie” state, he would become a reckless killing machine, lacking the discipline to make rational decisions, so he needed to hold back until the last moment. But the druid cacophony was testing his resolve.

  Bonny, who seemed to have better control over her transformations, put an arm around his shoulder. “You are doing fine, Lucius,” she said in a loud voice. “You should have seen the way I struggled with it, early on.”

  “When was the first time?”

  “Thankfully, not until I had seen twenty winters. If it had happened to me as a child, I might have killed my mommy and anyone else who tried to tell me what to do. But growing up, I never did change. Did the Mahanta pEpa hold me back like it did the Daasa? I’m not sure. Maybe those with human blood are beyond the Great Evil. But I think people like you and I have to be up close to a lot of the Daasa before we finally transform.

  “It wasn’t until I began to hang out with friends by the slave pits that I had these strange feelings. Once, I got sloppy and left a tavern too close to nightfall. A Mogol warrior grabbed me from behind and dragged me into an alley. He was about to have his way with me when I changed. As you might imagine, he is no longer among the living. That was fifteen winters ago.”

  “I’m sorry again, Bonny.”

  “Don’t be! I liked being able to fight back. Killing him was . . . fun!”

  Lucius grunted. “Afterward, the transformations happened more frequently?”

  “Yes, though at first only when I got mad. After a while, I was able to control when, where, and how. But it took practice. Even now, if I get real mad or scared, it’s hard not to give in—though the more you do it, the more you crave it, even if it does hurt.”

  Lucius grinned at her. “I know one of the ways you crave it.”

  She laughed and slapped his arm. Then her face grew serious. “You know . . . you are learning to control it already, finding ways to distract yourself when the feeling comes on.”

  Lucius sat up straight. “I do feel a bit better, I admit—though being around you always makes me feel good. I think the first moment I met you, I knew you were the one.”

  “Well, you had a funny way of showing it back in Duccarita!”

  After that, they ate bread, cheese, and more blackberries. Once again, the day had become unseasonably hot, even beneath the trees. The Daasa lay down all around them and took naps. Bonny soon joined them, and even Lucius succumbed to drowsiness, despite the intense buzzing that caused the branches to tremble.

  While asleep, he dreamed he was back in Uccheda, disciplining Urbana for her rough treatment of Laylah. But this time, the vampire didn’t lower her head and pretend to be intimidated. Instead, she smiled wickedly, bared her fangs, and pounced on him. He sat up in a rush, unaware of where he was. Not until Bonny comforted him did he regain his bearings.

  “It’s nearing dusk,” she said. “Either I’m going crazy, or the humming’s gotten even louder. I guess we should be going, huh?”

  Lucius stood and took a long drink from his skin.

  “I can think of few things I’d rather do less. Now I wish I had asked for some Jivitans to come along as escorts. It would feel less lonely, somehow, to have others with us to share this burden.”

  “They’ll be sharing it—just not where we’ll be able to see them.”

  “If we do see any Jivitans again, it will mean there is hope.”

  They left a relatively flat area of forest and entered a meandering succession of hills, hollows, and coves. Though they were traveling due west instead of north, they began to encounter sparse stands of the horrid trees that dominated Dhutanga’s interior. The Daasa avoided these trees as if their bark was poisonous. Even Lucius could sense the evil consciousness that resided within the black wood. It reminded him of the Hornbeam.

  “This place could get downright spooky at night,” Bonny said.

  “I don’t like it either,” Lucius agreed. “Even the Daasa seem out of sorts. Imagine how bad it would be if we were forced to go farther north.”

  “I’d fight the entire druid army myself before I’d do that.”

  The humming was louder than ever, assaulting their senses like thunder that never ceased. Abruptly, they came to a crest that overlooked a deep, winding cove choked with shadows. Lucius, Bonny, and the Daasa lined the crown. Lucius peered down into the dark depths. What he saw chilled his heart.

  Tens of thousands of crimson fireflies, traveling in close-knit pairs, filled the cove. At first, Lucius was thoroughly confused, but then he comprehended what he was seeing. The druid army was advancing through the cove, and the fireflies were their glowing eyes.

  Several of the Daasa began to transform. Lucius sensed it before he saw it. In his mind, he shouted, “No!”

  The Daasa contained themselves and slunk back. The rest also obeyed his silent command. Despite his horror at seeing the druids, Lucius felt a swell of pride.

  “If I can control myself, I can control them,” he thought. As if in response, Bonny touched his hand and smiled.

  However, Lucius’ momentary pleasure was quickly erased. A being appeared among the druids that was far greater than any of the wood-eaters, its head as broad as his arm was long. Despite its enormity, Lucius could not see it well enough to identify it. But the focus of the creature’s attention soon became clear. The monster stopped and looked up. Lucius didn’t believe it could see him clearly, but he had little doubt it sensed something.

  Without warning, the humming stopped, and the woods went still. At first, the silence hurt worse than the noise. Lucius’ ears continued to throb. When his hearing finally adjusted, he felt exposed, as if the titanic waves of sound had provided a sort of camouflage.

  From below, a hideous voice broke the disconcerting tranquility. “I know you. Do you know me?”

  Lucius shivered. He did know that voice, though it had changed since he last heard it, becoming deeper and more guttural.

  “Tyger got your tongue, general?”

  Somehow, Lucius knew that he should not respond, though the will that now inhabited Urbana’s body tried to compel him to reveal himself. Again, he had to fight the urge to transform. But he did so successfully.

  “Very well . . . we will meet again,” the creature said. “I will leave you, for now. There is no need to hurry, little man.”

  Then she cackled. “Or should I call you, little freak? For you are less, even, than a man.”

  At that point, he almost cracked, but Bonny grasped his bicep and squeezed hard. Her touch rescued him, giving him the strength to remain hidden.

  “Bye-bye!” the voice cried out. And then the humming resumed.

  When Lucius looked down at his war club, it was glowing as brightly as the largest firefly to ever live.

  4

  FROM THE BATTLEMENT of Balak, Chieftain-Kusala watched the Chain Man’s forces expand before his eyes. The combined strength of Nissaya, Jivita and Anna was only half this army’s size, but the numbers were not what concerned him most. By themselves, the golden soldiers were no threat to the fortress. The monsters that marched beneath Avici’s banner were another matter.

  Kusala had learned firsthand how difficult it was for Asēkhas to stand against Warlish witches; yet creatures were on the field that were even more dangerous. And that didn’t even take Mala into consideration. Though Kusala was more than half a mile away, he could see the ruined snow giant clearly in the dimming light, stomping around like he owned the world. The Koj
ins followed him like adoring servants, and wherever he went, the other monsters came to strict attention. There was no dissension within his ranks. After all, it was difficult to squabble with something as massive as Mala.

  Other than several elephants being used as pack animals, there were only two larger creatures among the gathering: a pair of three-headed giants, each thirty cubits tall. Even these terrible monsters seemed to grow timid when Mala approached. The right hand of Invictus knew no fear.

  Kusala remembered standing only a few paces from the Chain Man on the balcony of Bakheng. Then, the chieftain had feared Mala less than he did now. Even from a distance, the enormity of the Chain Man’s power was palpable, though it seemed focused not on the dreaded chain that encased his torso but on the trident he gripped in his right hand. As darkness deepened over the Green Plains, the three-pronged spear glowed like molten rock, casting more light than a bonfire. Kusala didn’t like the looks of it. It caused him to shiver in a way that nothing had before.

  “He is beyond me.” The deep voice came from behind, startling Kusala out of his reverie. Yama-Utu stepped out of the shadows. “Did you hear me?”

  “I heard you clearly,” Kusala said. “But I’m not sure I understand you.”

  Utu grunted. “Until now, I have clung to the hope that the monster dwelling within my brother’s body could be destroyed. I believed that you and your kind would distract his army long enough for me to face him, and that I could slay him like I did the Kojin. This was not a pleasant thought, of course. But I did not doubt my resolve . . . until now.”

  “What has changed?”

  “You understand better than you let on. You can see him too. And feel him.”

  Kusala grimaced. “I once faced Mala on Bakheng. And I saw him again in the mountains north of Gamana. Both times, I knew that he was dangerous, but neither time did he seem invincible. Now I’m not so sure. So . . . yes . . . I understand better than I let on. But my question remains: What has changed? Is it the trident?”