With a smirk, Tessen nods. “Yes, Nyshin-pa.”
“Don’t,” I warn, shaking my head. “Get us where we need to go.”
His lips purse, then he steps closer to Chio and follows him away from the trees.
I shouldn’t have said anything about the rot-ridden title, but I can’t stand it. It burns when the rest of the squad calls me nyshin-pa, but from Tessen it’s worse. It’s an unearned honor, and it feels like I’m stealing respect that doesn’t belong to me. I don’t want anything from Tessen that isn’t mine.
But what matters now is the mission, so I shove all of that aside.
The path is steep, and so narrow at times we have to squeeze through sideways. Osshi does better on this trek than he did on Shiara or climbing the face of the cliff when we landed on Ryogo, but Etaro and Tsua still have to take turns magically lifting him up with us. Especially since sometimes the old path is gone, erased by time and rockslides; then, the practice of a life on our rocky island becomes useful even though it’s hard to climb with boots between my feet and the rocks. Thankfully, every time I slip, someone is there to catch me.
Chio and Tessen find each of Varan’s ancient markers, some of them so worn down by wind and rain and time only Tessen can see them. I run my hand over one as I pass, trying to imagine a younger Varan pressing his hand to this same stone and carving these words into it. I can’t. Mostly because when I try I can’t help wishing Chio had caught up with him back then and smashed his head in with one of these rocks.
The route they lead us along doesn’t always move up. Morning turns into afternoon before we reach a valley with a small river. We stop there to drink, eat, and warm our hands near Rai’s and Nairo’s fire because despite the sun, it’s only gotten colder.
“Varan really didn’t want anyone finding this, did he?” I say.
“He loved secrets.” Chio looks up at the mountain’s peak. “I think they made him feel powerful. It’s not much farther, though.”
We press on, and in the golden light of late afternoon, we reach a level area barely wide enough to fit us all. Chio stops in the center. “Here. This is it.”
Most of us stay back, perching on nearby boulders or hovering a ways down the path to make it easier for Chio, Tsua, and Tessen to search the landing.
My patience holds for about ten minutes. “I thought you remembered where he hid this.”
“Not even rock is unchanged by time, Khya.” Chio points at a large slab of stone, and Tsua lifts it out of the way. “Nothing here is like it was then. Forgive me if I can’t walk into the hills and instantly find a magically protected hole that’s been here since I was younger than you.”
I grind my teeth and hold my tongue, but it feels like they have to completely rearrange the rocks surrounding this shelf before Chio finally says, “Thank the Kaisubeh. It’s still here.”
I jump down and rush toward them. “What can I do?”
They mentioned yesterday that Varan might have set a trap to guard this place, but neither could guess what it might be until we were here. Now, he and Tsua peer into the crevice, murmuring to each other for several minutes.
Finally, they nod and Tsua turns to me. “Create a ward around us, Khya, one that keeps you on the outside. We’re going to have to set off the trap.”
“That sounds like a really awful idea,” Rai mutters from somewhere.
“Would you rather be on this side of the ward?” Tsua doesn’t give Rai a chance to respond before she orders, “Now, Khya.”
They’ve each been carrying one of my wardstones since we left Lo’a, so I use those to anchor my magic, creating a dome that spreads around them and sinks down into the stone, my wards digging into the rock to make sure they’re completely sealed inside.
“Ready.” I take one step back, but stay close, ready to reinforce the barrier. Varan is nothing if not thorough. In both his defenses and his punishments.
Tsua waves her hand over the crevice. There are sounds—metal falling on stone—and then green-gray gas rises from the hole. It pours out like water bursting through a broken dam. It fills the warded space in seconds until it’s so dark and thick I can’t see anything inside.
But I can hear. Bellows and blood. My stomach drops.
I can hear them trying not to scream.
“Khya. Khya.” Tessen’s eyes are wide and his body tense. “I think it’s eating through them.”
“What do you want me to do? Let it out here? What do you think that will do to us if it’s doing this to them?”
“You hold that ward until they tell you to stop.” Zonna appears on my other side, his square face pained. “They knew what they were doing.”
“But how do we get them out of it?” Tessen demands.
“You don’t.” Zonna closes his eyes. “We wait.”
Heart racing, I wait. And wait. Wait. Enough time for my pulse to calm. Enough time for my breathing to even. For my knees to ache from pressing against the stone.
Finally, the smoke changes color, becoming more gray than green. Another interminable length of time later, the smoke shifts again, paler and grayer, but only when it’s cloud-white does a hand press flat against the ward.
Their skin is bright red. Blistered. Bleeding. They tap their fingers against the ward three times. Then they pull away, but not before I notice one thing: they’re healing. The cuts were closing. The redness fading. I keep reminding myself of that as I release the top of the ward and send a new cloud into the sky.
Immediately, Zonna leaps over what remains of my ward. Hands on his parents’ skin, his magic pours into them, healing them even faster than their own immortality can. I can feel it even though the smoke is still too thick for me to see anything but shadows and outlines. By the time the smoke clears, their blisters are gone and only redness like a sunburn is left.
I drop the rest of my ward. “Are you okay?”
“I will be if this turns out to be worthwhile.” Tsua presses her face against her son’s shoulder and shudders.
Thin lips pressed tight, Chio reaches out to run his hand over her hair, but then he pulls away from them both and leans over the crevice. “Tsua, I need you, vanafitia.”
Tsua straightens with a tense nod and shifts to kneel opposite Chio. Zonna, Tessen, and I move back to give them space as Tsua retrieves a stone box. It’s embedded with crystals, etched with words I can’t read, and it’s no longer than my forearm. It doesn’t seem worth what they suffered, but what it holds might be.
I shudder, the andofume’s screams still echoing between my ears.
What’s inside had better be worth that much pain.
…
Going down the mountain is a lot easier than going up. We don’t have to follow Varan’s twisting, unnecessarily complicated route, for one. Still, it’s well past midnight by the time we reach level ground. Everyone is freezing, tired, and hungry, but we’re alive, we have a box of something Varan thought was worth guarding with a deadly trap, and we have enough time to make it back to Lo’a’s camp before she leaves.
Then Chio mutters something and sighs. “We have a choice to make.”
“What kind of choice?” I ask.
“We’re several miles west of where we started, and this is populated terrain. We have to skirt Uraita to get back.” Chio looks toward the lights flickering in the distance. “Do we keep walking now or rest and eat first?”
“If we wait too long, we might not make it before Lo’a leaves,” Tsua says.
Tyrroh and Tessen vote for pushing on, but my fingers are going numb and my stomach is hollow with hunger, so I shake my head. “We’re too tired and cold. We’re more likely to make a mistake if we don’t rest first.”
Also, if we rest, Tsua and Chio will have a chance to open Varan’s box. They must be itching to break the seal on it at least as much as I am. We won’t find all the answers we need inside, but that’s okay. All I need it to have is the next step toward killing Varan. And freeing Yorri.
With
in minutes, Wehli has gathered enough wood and kindling to feed a good fire. As soon as Rai lights the blaze, Tessen and Natani unpack the provisions as we sit in a tight circle around the warmth.
I sit close to Tsua and Chio, and it’s hard not to crowd into their space when they place the stone box on the ground between them. They debate if there’s a trap inside the box. I watch and listen for a few minutes before I interject. “I don’t think he’d have a trap on this and the crevice itself. Varan’s paranoid, but he’s also arrogant. The tunnel to Imaku was only guarded by locked doors and a ward. Beyond that, the way was open.”
“That’s after centuries of absolute power.” Chio holds the box up and Tsua’s hands rise. Light like Sanii’s gathers in her palm. I blink. I didn’t know she could do that. “The only people he had to worry about on Shiara were us.”
Tessen walks toward Chio, his hand outstretched. “May I see it?”
Chio hands over the box. As Tessen examines it, I lean in, needing to see the thing we climbed so far for. Then Tessen’s gaze meets mine and I scoot closer. “You need my wards or senses?”
“Senses first.” He holds out the box. “Wards after. Maybe.”
“Hopefully not.” I never want to repeat what happened to Tsua and Chio on that mountain, especially not if it’s Tessen trapped inside this time. I take a breath and rest my hands on the box. Relief fills my chest, warming me more than the fire. “If there’s anything in there set to kill us, I can’t feel it.”
“There’s something,” Tessen says slowly, peering at the box through narrowed eyes. “But it’s subtle. It doesn’t feel dangerous.”
“You’re probably sensing the seal.” Tsua takes the box back. “And that, thankfully, we know how to break.”
Tsua floats the box several feet away, and then she says, “Goa’wa uita.”
Wards ready, I hold my breath and wait for smoke or sparks or something. If something goes wrong this time, I will not leave anyone inside the ward to suffer from it. But the top separates from the rest with nothing worse than the scrape of stone, and Tsua floats both pieces back toward us.
“Perfect timing.” Natani pokes the cooking meat one more time, the firelight bringing out the red in his terra-cotta skin. “Food’s ready.”
Etaro and Rai help Natani pass out dinner, but I stay near Tsua and Chio, watching them slowly and carefully pick through the box’s contents. The protections on this must’ve been strong, because everything seems to be intact from what I can tell. There are papers, stones, and a few small pouches, but it’s hard to follow Tsua and Chio’s conversation about the items. They speak low and quick, and they jump between multiple languages seemingly at random.
Waiting—and attempting to convince myself they’ll explain everything later—scrapes against my patience, so instead of continuing to watch them, I take out the book on niadagu spells I stashed in my pack. I haven’t learned anything new from the books, but I can’t stand being this close to the next step and unable to take it. I have to do something, and this is all I have that feels like it’ll bring me even a little bit closer to helping Yorri.
Over the past few days I’ve read the entire book—traveling has given me plenty of time—but now I reread the pages about weaving magic into fabric.
As I read, I run my thumb along the cord around my wrist. I’ve tried, but I can’t bind even a small piece of my magic to it in any lasting way. It’s frustrating, especially since I can do it to wardstones. This can’t be much different. I just have to take what I already know, combine it with the information on the pages in front of me, and make it work. Looking at the problem like one of the puzzles Yorri used to make helps. There’s a single piece I need to pull out or adjust and the whole thing will fall into place. I’ll find it eventually if I just keep looking.
But an hour later, when we get ready to leave, every attempt has failed. Even when I only try to make it hold my wards, I fail. Grinding my teeth, I shove the book back into my pack.
“You have time, but it won’t matter if we don’t figure out how to kill Varan first.” Tessen’s murmured words slide through my distraction.
“What won’t?”
“That.” He nods toward my pack. “I know it’s important, but being able to break the cords won’t do us any good if we can’t kill the bobasu.”
“You don’t know that.” A tremor of anger rolls through my body. My fingers clench the strap of my pack. “None of us know what’ll happen with Varan, but I do know I need this. If I don’t know how to break this, I’ll never be able to save Yorri.”
“I’m not telling you to not save Yorri. I gave up everything to help you find him.” His full lips press thin. “All I’m saying is that we need you working on the bigger problem, too.”
“Why? There are thirteen other people, Tessen, and all of them are working on destroying the bobasu. Why do I need to be working on it, too?”
Tessen blinks, an expression flashing across his face that I’ve never seen him give me before. Like he’s reevaluating my intelligence. “Because you’re you, Khya. Because somehow you and Sanii are the ones who saw through Varan’s tricks and broke through Suzu’s defenses. You got us here when who knows how many people tried before. Even Tsua and Chio failed, but you succeeded. Now we have a bigger problem, and you’re not working on it with us.”
“When the andofume need my help, they’ll ask. And I’ll give it to them. Until then, I’ll be working on the problem no one else is even looking at.”
Only when I say it do I realize I’m reminding myself of that truth as much as I’m reminding him.
Only when he doesn’t respond, walking away from the buried campfire instead, do I realize I was waiting for him to tell me I’m right.
Chapter
Six
Night is just giving way to the gray of predawn when we erase all signs of our camp. It’s just enough light to travel by, but not enough to read. That—and the need to move silently—are the only things keeping me from taking Varan’s papers from the andofume to study while we make our way back to the wagons.
An hour later, we pass an expanse of brown, barren land. So much of Ryogo is lush and green, but this is empty and dry. And it smells.
“Where is that coming from?” I whisper to Tyrroh, hand covering my nose and mouth. Tessen is ahead of us, and he has a cloth wrapped over his face.
“I’m trying very hard not to smell anything right now.” Tyrroh shudders. “I don’t know what it could be. Nothing on Shiara is this strong or disgusting. It’s like rotten meat surrounded by wuhani flowers—and those feces-scented things are bad enough.”
Osshi looks back at us, warinesss in his eyes. Then he clears his throat. “Umm, Chio-ti?” Our andofume halt and turn. “There is… I should tell you something.”
“What did he call Chio?” I ask Sanii.
“The -ti is one of their ranks.” Sanii waves eir hand. “They have more ranks and honors than we do.”
Right. Tsua and Chio addressed him as Osshi-tan after they met him on Shiara. Now, as we stop behind him to listen, I wonder what Osshi needs to say that’s so important. And why, if it’s so important, he hasn’t told us before now.
“Originally we weren’t going to visit Uraita. I knew we’d pass close, but I didn’t— I mean, I likely should’ve mentioned it, but I didn’t know we’d be…” He casts his eyes up, running a hand through his black, shoulder-length hair.
Tsua looks toward the barren land. “They salted the fields, didn’t they?”
Oh no. My stomach flips. That would be catastrophic if it happened on Shiara. The entire clan would collapse in less than a year. Thousands would die. How could they do that to this village?
“It was something much worse than salt.” Osshi finally meets their eyes. “But they also erased Varan and Chio’s family name from history, destroyed every osukiga portrait painted for your ancestors, banned your names from ever being used, and restricted the village’s ability to trade—”
“Enough.” Tsua turns away from the dead land. “Enough, Osshi. We can guess the rest.”
Pain etched in their faces, Tsua and Chio stare at each other. I can only imagine the heartache of returning to Itagami only to find it a ruined shade of what I remembered and loved. Bellows, I probably won’t have to imagine that feeling for long—there’s no way home will be the same place I remember when I see it again. If I see it again.
“You could’ve warned us, Osshi.” Chio rubs his hand over his eyes.
“I didn’t know how. I wasn’t sure you’d want to know. This is how it’s been since the bobasu were exiled.” Osshi says it almost hesitantly. “Most people don’t believe the bobasu legends anymore, but those who live here aren’t allowed to forget. They also—” Osshi clears his throat. “You told me you didn’t plan on entering the village, so I thought it didn’t matter, but in all Ryogo, this is where they’re most likely to remember your faces.”
Tsua mutters a Denhitran curse, and Chio closes his eyes; his sharp nod is the only sign he heard. Anger burns in my stomach, hot and sharp. When Osshi first met Tsua and Chio, he was so excited. He’d been willing to do anything to help, but ever since we escaped he’s become more and more closed off. It’s a good thing what we were looking for wasn’t in the village. Even if we had to pass through Uraita, I’m not sure if he would’ve told us until it was nearly too late.
“Honestly, Osshi,” Chio begins. “Warn us earlier if there’s anything we even might need to know.”
Osshi nods, eyes cast down, but I can’t help wondering.
Maybe it’s different because, on Shiara, we were his only chance of survival. Now we’re in his homeland, and although some of his people may be hunting him, he has friends. Family. People he’d give his life to protect. Even if he’s telling the whole truth now, what will he do when he has to either keep one of Ryogo’s secrets or help people he was raised to believe were his enemies?
Don’t create trouble, I can almost hear my old training master scold. Shiara provides us with more than enough.
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