I try to get closer, wanting a better look at the flood of desosa. The energy responds. Warmth surrounds me, twining around my body like Soanashalo’a’s little ahoali’lona, Koo’a, and it feels just as conscious as those creatures, but larger. And it keeps growing until it engulfs me. Warmth and a pulsing, curious touch, but it’s not gentle. It scratches sharply in moments. Then soothes. It burns. And then cools.
There’s a shudder in the energy, a shock.
And then everything goes black.
…
I wake up flat on my back, staring up at the rough stone of the cave’s roof.
“She’s awake.” Zonna’s worried face hovers over mine, and his hand presses to my forehead, his hishingu magic brushing through my body. “Khya? Can you hear me?”
“Of course I can hear you.” I start to sit up. For a second, Zonna’s hand weighs me down, but when I twitch my shoulder, he releases me. “I feel fine, I just…”
What happened? I don’t know how to understand it let alone explain it.
“You all… You were unconscious.” Miari speaks slowly, uneasiness laced through her words. “None of you touched the black rock, but there was a flash and then you all dropped.”
“You and Sanii were the last to wake up,” Tsua says gently.
Chio is kneeling next to Sanii, and though ey is only just sitting up, ey seems fine.
“It worked. I think it worked.” Chio sounds mystified. So am I, and I was there for whatever that was. “But I have no idea what happened while we were in there.”
“I think…” I rub my hand across my forehead, trying to remember everything. “We may have just found solid proof your Kaisubeh are real.”
“You saw that, too?” Zonna rubs his eyes. “Tssiky’le, I thought I was imagining things.”
But when we start describing what happened inside the katsujo, all of us stumbling over our words more than once, we know it’s true.
“Maybe what Varan did to the katsujo really did catch and keep their attention.” Chio stares at the line of black stones. “What happened in there… Maybe we have their blessing. Or Khya does. Did you feel the way the desosa focused on her before the end?”
“I did. It makes sense. Khya did something no one else ever has,” Tsua says, her voice a little stronger now. I feel a little stronger, too, knowing I didn’t imagine the twining, conscious presence I felt. “She fixed what Varan broke. It must’ve earned their gratitude.”
I never cared about gratitude, from gods or mortals; I only wanted to save Yorri.
“How… Are we sure it was the Kaisubeh?”
“No, but as soon as we touched the energy, we were sucked into it completely.” Tsua gestures to the line of stones that none of us have gotten even an inch closer to. “The work was never interrupted, and it went easier than we expected. The desosa flowed into the stones almost before we asked, and it feels—” She shudders. “It feels more dangerous than anything I’ve ever been this close to in my life.”
I concentrate on the Imaku stone for the first time—and hiss through my teeth. The energy from the stones bites. It’s hot as a forge-fire and sharp as a newly sharpened blade, but the way the desosa inside those rocks swirls and coils almost feels…alive. It feels aware. Like it’s waiting for me to let my guard down so it can strike.
If vengeance had a tangible feeling, it would be this.
“That’s…good, right?” Sanii looks between us, lines creasing eir forehead. “I mean, we want them to be dangerous, don’t we?”
“We do, and I’m grateful they are, but we didn’t make them that way, and that…” Tsua pauses and takes a long breath, a look of awe sweeping over her face. “That is terrifying.”
“It is, but now we have something to test.” Chio’s expression is unreadable as he glances at Miari. “Hopefully you’ll still be able to shape this stone, Miari, because if it works, you’ll have to help them find a way to use it against Varan. Khya will need your help turning a pile of rock into wieldable weapons.”
Miari nods slowly. Her upturned eyes are unusually wide, and her lips are pressed thin. She opens her mouth, but footsteps and scraping rock snap our attention toward the tunnel. I bring up a ward, blocking the path instinctively. I drop it as soon as Tessen calls, “Khya?”
Wehli appears first, relief on his face when his eyes meet Miari’s. “You’re okay.”
She relaxes a little, taking his offered hand and leaning against his chest.
Seconds later, Tessen dashes in, his eyes finding mine instantly. “Bellows, Khya. I thought I was done panicking over your survival. Why can’t—oh.” He stops halfway to where I’m sitting, his eyes are on the Imaku rocks. “Blood and rot. What did you do to them?”
“Hopefully? Created something strong enough to destroy ten people who set themselves up as gods.” I’m just not the one who did it. I stand up and join Tessen, who’s inching closer to the stones that I’ve kept a solid distance from since I woke up. “Everyone help load these into the bags. We need to get back to the surface, and you need to hear what happened.”
He looks at me, his sword-sharp gaze scanning me, probably for injuries, but possibly because he can feel the confusion clogging my thoughts. I put my hand on his arm, silently reassuring him I’m fine, and he relaxes some. With everyone who can touch the stones without being harmed by them helping, it doesn’t take long for the black line cutting the damp cave in half to be cleared away and the squad to be ready to move.
When we get back to camp, I watch Etaro, Miari, and Rai place the bags of stone in a trunk attached to the outside of our wagon, then Tsua, Sanii, and Soanashalo’a place as many protection and locking spells on it as they can. It’s the only way to keep those overpowered weapons safely away from Sanii and me. Keeping them inside the cramped wagon would be too risky. I don’t want to die because of an accidental brush with those stones.
Tsua, Zonna, and Chio, however, are still determined to test it on purpose.
“We should wait.” I say it even as I follow the three of them toward the edge of the camp.
It’s morning—as far as anyone can tell without a sunrise to mark the time—and Etaro is floating three dagger-like shards of black rock in front of em. The andofume sit on the wet ground, and Etaro lets a rock settle in front of each of them as I create a ward around us, one underneath the ward already protecting the camp. I make the shield as strong as I can. The andofume are determined to go through with this even though none of us know what to expect.
Which is exactly what makes this so ridiculous. I try one more time to get them to see reason. “Can we please wait before you do this? We don’t even know what to do with this yet or how we’re going to get it anywhere near the bobasu.”
“The shape of the weapon won’t matter if its core is flawed,” Chio points out. “The bobasu will be surrounded by an army, and they must have known we’d head here when we escaped. They’ll expect danger from us, so there will only be a few ways to use the stone against them—either strike from a distance or set a trap and crush him in it.”
“Your group is powerful, loyal, and incredibly intelligent, Khya.” Tsua smiles, affection and pride in her eyes. “Use them. Trust each other, use your strengths, and don’t give up.”
“We’ve waited a long time for people willing to help us finish this fight. It’s one we should’ve ended centuries ago.” Too many emotions are layered into Chio’s voice for me to unravel them. “I hate to leave before we see the end for ourselves—it’s an end I’ve been looking forward to for a long time—but you’ve got to know you have what you’ll need.”
“There isn’t any other way to test this?” I ask. “No one knows Varan better than you do.”
“It’s the only way to test it,” Tsua insists. “And that’s not true. You’re the ones who’ve lived with Varan. We know who he was. You know who he is.”
“But all three of you?” Rai protests. “We can’t lose all of you, especially not at once!”
; Chio smiles sadly. “It has to be us all. Remember? Varan’s susuji didn’t work on everyone. To be sure this will take out all the bobasu, we need to test it on all of us.”
I take a long breath, holding the air in until my lungs start to hurt. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“Loss never comes when you’re ready for it,” Tsua says gently. “No amount of preparation—not even centuries—is enough.”
I think of Tessen coming to me in the middle of the night, covered in sweat and desert dust, to tell me that Yorri died. I think about the day Tessen, Sanii, and I left Itagami behind, fully believing we’d never see it again. I think about hearing Daitsa and the others scream when Varan killed them. I think about sailing away from Shiara without my brother.
She’s right. I knew this was coming, and yet there’s no way it won’t leave a hole in my chest just like all those other losses did. I can already feel it, a tight ball of sizzling fear that’ll explode into a gaping wound if…when this works.
Tsua walks toward me and, after I nod permission, places her hands on my cheeks. I force myself to hold her gaze despite the painful churning in my stomach, and her smile softens as though she knows. “You are strong, talented, brave, and incredibly loyal to those you love. Even if you lose us, you’ll be fine. The others will follow you, Sanii, and Tessen anywhere, and you’re smart enough to use their skills and knowledge well. You’ll succeed where Chio and I have failed. I believe that the same way I believe in the Kaisubeh.”
Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply. It barely calms me. The air trembles in my lungs and my hands shake. Doesn’t matter. As much as I’m arguing, I also know this needs to be done.
I can’t wish them dead. If they live, we’ve failed. But bellows, I’ve never wanted so badly to succeed and fail at the same time.
“Do you remember the words to break the binding?” Chio asks when Tsua steps away.
“Ureeku-sy rii’ifu.” I open my eyes. “But you said you weren’t sure it’d work on Varan’s spell.” And after what happened with the guard at Mushokeiji, I am not willing to watch the spell go wrong with Yorri, too.
“We’re as sure as we can be,” Chio says. “The only way to be certain is to test it on a cord Varan or one of the others put in place, and…”
“I know.” I touch the red cord on my wrist. Everyone trapped by that spell is on Shiara.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I listen as the others say their goodbyes. We were enemies once. Tsua, Chio, and Zonna lived in Denhitra, and we fought with that clan over territory and resources constantly. What means more now is how much more time they’ve spent on Shiara than anywhere else. Tsua and Chio aren’t Ryogan, they’re Shiaran. Zonna was born on the same solid stone and under the same scorching sun as us; he learned the reality of Ryogo at the same time as us.
Swallowing, I force words out I don’t express often. To anyone. “Thank you. All of you. Just…just in case I don’t get a chance to say it again.”
“It was an honor, little fykina.” Tsua holds out her hand, and I take it, gripping her once before I let go. “I wish I could see what you’ll grow into. I have a feeling it’ll be glorious.”
Throat closing and eyes burning, I nod my thanks.
“Fight well, Khya, and don’t give up on Itagami yet.” Chio gives me a small, sad smile. “Sagen sy Itagami has survived this long. I think they can live through what’s coming, too. Your clan will need someone to lead them through the aftermath of Varan’s plans if anything good is going to be salvaged.”
“I think Itagami will be more than happy to follow the girl who revealed the lies of the Miriseh.” Zonna smiles, the expression far easier than his parents’. “I’d be willing to beg the Kaisubeh for another chance at life if it meant seeing you at the head of that city.”
I can’t find it in me to smile and mean it, but I can give him one truth. “If that happens, you’d be more than welcome there.”
Zonna’s smile turns more serious. Tsua and Chio look down at the sharp, black stones on the wet ground. Nerves they must’ve been hiding before seem to be rising now.
“Kaisubeh yumaryshi ware ni’te za zaini’i ware renshinai temoru suoka,” Tsua whispers in Ryogan. Kaisubeh forgive us for the crimes we may have committed.
“Iziha anama nano’i iziha fa’ana ny boamanatra izika diosonafa,” Chio responds in Denhitran. We did what we could to fix our mistakes.
Then, as one, they place their hands on the stone shards in front of them.
Tsua and Chio jolt, their hands clenching. Tsua’s grip on the rock dagger is tight enough to draw blood where the edges cut into her palm. Zonna glances at them, his own hand tightening a second behind his parents.
Gritting her teeth, Tsua pulls her sleeve up and lifts the stone like she’s about to slice her forearm open with it. Chio grabs her wrist, his face tight with pain. He grunts. With a sharp twist, he forces her hand to turn over.
“What is that?” It looks like dirt or shadows, but when I lean in…
Her veins are turning black, and it’s spreading.
My stomach turns. I hold my breath. Quick and painless. I wanted this to be quick and painless; I don’t think this will be either. Their faces are twisted and their breathing sharp and there’s nothing I can do to ease their pain. They’re already sacrificing everything for our fight. This is too much. They don’t deserve to suffer this.
Crying out, Tsua pulls back, dropping the stone and shoving her sleeve up. The lines, like charcoal marks on her beige skin, are past her elbow. Chio looks at his own hand; it’s there, the same black lines mark his veins to the middle of his forearm. Shuddering, he rubs and scratches at the skin. It does nothing.
Zonna sits across from them, taut as a bowstring. His skin is unmarked.
“What can we— We need to do something,” Tessen whispers. “What can we do?”
“Nothing,” Sanii says, voice lifeless. “This is exactly what we wanted to happen.”
No. My breathing catches. My chest hurts. I never wanted this. This isn’t just death, this is torment.
Tsua folds over and braces herself on the ground. Her arms buckle. She falls. The black is climbing the side of her neck, creeping under her jaw, and marring her cheek. Chio’s neck is unmarked, but when he drops the stone and curls himself around Tsua, he’s shivering.
Zonna shoves his sleeve out of the way and drags the sharpest edge of the stone shard into his forearm, digging deep to slice a wide line.
Tsua starts screaming; tears fall from Chio’s squeezed-shut eyes.
The thickest black lines in Tsua’s arm are blistering, bubbling, and bursting, heavy black blood soaking into her clothes. Her cries sharpen, but only for a moment. It’s like she doesn’t have the energy for anything more. The dark lines have reached Chio’s face, and they’re moving faster now, covering his skin.
Tessen stiffens, his gaze is locked on Tsua, agonized disbelief in his eyes. I open my mouth to ask him what’s wrong—and then I feel it. Desosa is flowing out of her body. It’s a thin trickle at first, but it’s strong, and it carries out not only the essense of Tsua’s lifeforce but everything that wasn’t supposed to belong to her.
That’s what the Kaisubeh did to the stone; they helped us create something that would literally bleed the bobasu of the power Varan stole, leeching away everything that’s kept them alive for so long.
Watching this is too much. I can’t. I close my eyes, concentrating on burying the ache in my chest. I wish the Ryogans’ gods could’ve found a faster way to do this. But it lasts.
Seconds feel like excruciating hours, but it can’t be more than ten or fifteen minutes before the elder andofume drop unconscious. The only sound is their rattling breaths until even that finally falls silent. Only then do I open my eyes again.
Tsua stops moving first, and Chio soon after. Zonna watches them, so tense he’s practically vibrating, but his skin is still unmarked. There’s not even a wound on his forearm—the blood on his skin and clothes is the on
ly sign he was ever injured.
This is exactly what they were testing for, exactly what they feared would occur, and yet the pain piercing through my chest proves I never believed it would happen. Not to them, not like this, and not now.
It doesn’t make sense. Did Zonna survive because he’s a hishingu? Was his magic healing him while the stone was trying to kill him? Maybe, but it doesn’t explain why none of them were forced unconscious when they touched the black rock; that’s how Yorri described what happened when he touched the stone. I don’t understand how being a hishingu could’ve stopped that, but the how doesn’t matter when I see the bleak look in Zonna’s eyes.
Believing I lost Yorri hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt, and we only had sixteen years to bond. Our three andofume have had centuries. How much worse must it be to lose someone after so long? After someone has become so much a part of your life, how do you learn to exist without them?
“I’m sorry, Zonna,” I whisper. “We can keep trying if you want, test different things, or…” Or what? I don’t know. Something. Anything to ease the agony he must be feeling, even if it’s offering to keep looking for a way for him to die.
Zonna doesn’t answer. Doesn’t look at me. Barely seems to be breathing. After a few minutes of awful, heavy silence, he moves. He drops the stone, gets up, and tries to walk away.
Tries.
Less than three feet from us, he stops as though he’s hit a wall with a jolting, full body shudder. An agonized, gasping breath. A slow collapse none of us are fast enough to stop.
When I reach him, he’s on his knees, folding over until his head hits the dirt. He’s gasping and sobbing, broken in a way I’ve never seen. Each wrecked sob stabs at my chest until it feels like all the air I breathe is gone, escaping out the holes in my lungs.
There isn’t anything I can do to help or shield him from this. I can’t protect him from what’s hurting him now, but we can stay with him while he breaks and try to help him collect the pieces when it’s over. If it’s ever over.
Sea of Strangers Page 30