“But the nahuallis—They were sure that—”
“They’re wrong.”
He stood, feet braced apart. He crossed his arms, a stubborn look hardening his expression. “I cannot accept that. The gods would not send visions that lied.”
“But they’d watch while their land and people were destroyed,” Reisil said bitterly. “Think what you want. I don’t know how to stop it. And Kodu Riik suffers because of it.” His face darkened, but Reisil didn’t give him a chance to retort. “If you’re in that much trouble, why send you? Why didn’t some of your nahuallis come?”
“There are too few nowadays. They could not be risked on such a dangerous journey.”
“But you could?”
“It was thought my chances of success were better.”
“And did they foresee you becoming ahalad-kaaslane?”
His gaze flicked to Baku and away and Reisil felt an answering surge of anguish and rage from the coal-drake. “No. They await my return.”
The words were troubled, and Reisil softened toward him. Who knew better than she how painful it was to refuse to become ahalad-kaaslane?
“Would someone explain to me what is going on here?”
Reisil flinched. The Verit stood on the stairs flanked by the two sorcerers and a squad of guards holding torches. The sorceress was nowhere to be seen. Others crowded in the doorways and hovered in the shadows farther up the staircase.
“Who is responsible for this mess?”
Dread held Reisil frozen. Everyone already suspected her of being a traitor. And now the palace had suffered a magical attack, and here she stood in the middle of it. If until now there had been a single soul who believed she wasn’t interested in taking power for herself, there wasn’t anymore.
“I am. Or rather, my companion.” Yohuac stepped forward.
“And you are?” Aare’s voice dripped venom.
“I am Yohuac Amini Achtopa Pilli.” Once again he gave that fisted bow, but this time he did not bow nearly so low, or hold it so long.
“And who are you?”
“He’s ahalad-kaaslane,” Reisil announced, startling herself. Every eye fastened on her. She lifted her chin. “He’s just arrived. He’s had a long, difficult journey, and he wishes a place to sleep.” Reisil had no idea what his journey had been like or how far he’d come.
“After destroying half my palace?” Aare demanded contemptuously. “I’d sooner invite in the Patverseme host.”
Fury kindled in Reisil at his open challenge to the Lady’s law. Never before had he so publicly dismissed the ahalad-kaaslane.
“Fix it, Baku,” Reisil ordered, never looking away from the Verit.
~Fix it now.
The coal-drake didn’t move. But suddenly the air around him shimmered and spun with tiny white sparks. They danced over the twisted, drunken doors of the palace. The ruined metal slabs unbent and smoothed themselves, settling into their jambs as if fastened in place by invisible hands. The gathered watchers ducked and dodged as the sparks streamed past into the palace, illuminating darkened corridors and rooms with glittering white light. In their wake, doors mended and leaped back into their frames, cracks in the walls and ceilings sealed, shattered windows gathered together and fitted themselves back into their sashes.
Reisil stared at the Verit, forcing herself to stand still, feeling her magic boiling up. She tamped it down, reining her anger in hard. Losing control at this moment wouldn’t help any, much as she wanted to singe his short hairs. Right now it was important that they believe Yohuac and Baku to be ahalad-kaaslane. Much as it might gall, the Lady’s law gave no one the authority to command the ahalad-kaaslane, and despite the Verit’s words, he wasn’t ready to put her laws to the test. Not yet. Knowing they could do magic, he’d be less inclined to send an assassin to eliminate the problem. Reisil didn’t doubt he was capable of it. She thought fleetingly of the assassins hunting her. Was the Verit the hand guiding them? She brushed away the thought. Now was not the time.
A sparkling rain began to fall in the silence of the Rotunda as Baku’s magic returned. The tiny embers drifted down in winding patterns, coalescing on Baku’s hide in a tapestry of stars. They faded slowly, leaving the hall in the gloom of flickering torchlight.
“Your palace is repaired, Daz Varakamber,” Reisil declared. “We will excuse ourselves now. It is quite late. We will disturb you no further.”
With that, Reisil moved toward the stairs. Baku and Yohuac trailed after, Baku’s talons clicking on the marble. Neither the Verit nor any of his companions seemed inclined to step aside until Baku brought his head close, snorting through his red-rimmed nostrils. As a body, they stepped hastily aside.
Reisil climbed the steps quickly, her head spinning. Baku remained inside her mind, a hungry, waiting presence. She felt him push against her link with Saljane as if testing its strength. She could speak to him, if she chose, and he would answer. Just like Saljane. She recoiled from the idea. That wasn’t the way it was supposed to work.
Saljane crooned in her mind.
~He wants you to understand. To help. He wants Yohuac. He wants what we have.
She sounded absolutely certain, without any hint of envy or doubt. Reisil relaxed slightly. But she couldn’t shake a certain feeling of tension and anger. The anger was directed primarily at the Verit, but also at Baku and Yohuac. She knew it wasn’t fair. She didn’t even know their story. But she hated what they represented. More demands, more secrets. As if she weren’t already straining under enough of those. It reminded her too much of Sodur. How everything he asked of her was always about manipulating her, getting her to fall in with his plots. Was she to become a pawn to these two as well? Was she always to be at the mercy of others’ so-called wisdom, never free to choose her own path?
With every step, her anger grew hotter. Reisil stalked back to her quarters. She reached for the handle of her door, realizing that she was not to have any privacy at all, and that Baku was not going to fit through the doorway.
Reisil spun around. “Baku isn’t going to fit,” she declared in an accusing tone.
Yohuac stiffened and took a half-step back. Then inexplicably he dropped to his knees, bowing down low to touch his head to the carpet, his hands spread wide to the side and pressed flat against the floor. It was an attitude of utter subjection.
Reisil stared. “What are you doing?”
He was mumbling something. She crouched down. It was a chant, and she didn’t recognize the words. Except one: nahualli. He repeated the chant several times, seemingly with no intention of stopping.
Reisil shoved impatiently to her feet. “Fine. Sleep there. Or better yet, go find someone else to bother.”
She slammed the door, fuming. “Couldn’t someone show up wanting to help me?”
~The Lady sent them. Maybe they will help.
“Yes, unbonded ahalad-kaaslane. More likely She wants me to help them find their bond.”
~Perhaps both.
Reisil grinned reluctantly. ~I’d just as soon have the recipe for curing the plague.
Before Saljane could reply, a forlorn, yowling sound burrowed through the door and raised the hair on Reisil’s arms. It was a soft, desperate cry and it melted Reisil’s ire. She returned to the door and opened it. Outside Baku crouched over a kneeling Yohuac, who looked pained and guilt-ridden. The coal-drake stared at Reisil and then brushed his muzzle against Yohuac’s hair and made the cry again.
Reisil sighed. “All right. But please get up off the floor.”
She went to seat herself in an overstuffed chair by the fire. She heard a faint noise behind her, and when she turned, she found Baku inside, standing beside Yohuac.
“Neat trick,” she said dryly, lifting Saljane down from her shoulders and cradling the goshawk on her lap.
Yohuac hesitated and then dropped to the floor cross-legged. Baku hunched down, wrapping his tail around himself like a cat, careful not to knock over any furniture. He rested his big head on the f
loor between Reisil and Yohuac. Reisil realized that Yohuac wasn’t going to be the first to speak. “What was that out there?” She waved her arm at the door.
He answered slowly, as if picking his words carefully. “It is customary to apologize in such fashion when you have offended a nahualli.”
Reisil rubbed her forehead. “That’s an apology? You were groveling. And you did this in my doorway because—?”
His eyes flicked to the ivy on her cheek. Oh. That. Reisil sighed again. “It starts glowing when I get angry. And when I do magic. And if that bothers you, wait until you see what happens to my eyes. But please, let’s have no more of that.” She waved again toward the door. “If you don’t want me to be angry, you can answer some questions.” She lifted her brows challengingly, and he nodded.
“Why don’t you start with where you came from and why you’re looking for me.”
~I could pass it from his mind to yours, Baku offered swiftly.
~You can do that?
~It’s how I gave him our language.
Reisil thought about it a moment and then shook her head. It was a disturbing thought, looking at someone else’s memories and thoughts. It seemed more than intrusive—a violation. Even if he allowed it. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to share that much with anyone besides Saljane. She wasn’t even comfortable just talking mind-to-mind with Baku.
~No.
~As you wish, Baku said, closing his eyes indifferently. But it was a façade.
Unaware of the exchange, Yohuac began his story in a careful, fluid voice. “My land is called Cemanahuatl. It is a rich, green land of tangled jungles, heavy rains, thick mists, great rivers and tall mountains. We have one great city and many villages. Ours is a tribal people, and each tribe is guided by nahuallis. Witch women. Like you.
“Nearly three years ago, something happened. It wrenched the seams of our land and soon rains increased and snow fell low on the mountain slopes—much lower than ever before, and much earlier. Tribes have been forced to move from their lands. The Citialin lost half their population to a mudslide. Their entire village and all their farmlands were wiped out. They were the most prosperous of any of the tribes. There have been terrible diseases and ravening creatures killing dozens of people. Those sent to hunt them don’t come back, and no one ever finds their bodies.
“In the last year things have grown worse. Children grow stunted, and fewer and fewer women are fertile. There has been a blight on the kalmut and bean fields. Many tribes have used up the prey in their territories and have been forced to move. There has been bloodletting, and soon there will be war between many. What are the tecuhtli to do? The people have to eat and the tecuhtli must lead, though the nahuallis object. But the nahuallis have been able to do little. The have located the source of the corruption at Mococoa, a valley sacred to the Teotl, the Fifty-two Gods. But more they have not done. They do not know where it comes from. At first they thought it a curse made by one of the Teotl, to be repealed with sacrifices. But now they know it is something else. If we do not discover how to stop it, we will die.”
He paused, frowning as he drew a deep breath, and Reisil heard his stomach growl.
“You are hungry,” she said, bringing him a half-loaf of brown bread, a crock of fruit preserves and a pitcher of water. She returned to her seat, watching him tear into the bread. She had so many questions and hardly knew where to begin. She began with the one that confused her most.
“I’ve never heard of Cemanahuatl. Where is it?”
Yohuac set the bread down, rubbing his hand over his lips, his gaze troubled. “I do not know.”
Reisil stared.
“The nahuallis opened a passage through—” He shook his head. “They took me to the Monequi—where the names of the gods are carved. They told me I was to seek the nahualli with the gold ivy on her face. Then they cast a great spell and opened a door into nothing. When I stepped through, I was elsewhere. High in mountains I had never seen before. Not even the plants or animals were familiar. It was cold. That’s when Baku found me.”
He closed his eyes, his face spasming. “And you refused the bond,” she prompted softly.
“I am not of your world. Baku has been my guide and has given me your language and customs. But I cannot remain here. I cannot serve your Lady. I have . . . I have another destiny.”
And what might that be? But Reisil didn’t ask. His face was shuttered against further questions. “All right. So why come searching for me? What do these nahuallis of yours hope for?”
Yohuac settled his forearms on his knees, hands dangling loosely. “When it became clear that the destruction was no curse from the gods, the nahuallis from many villages gathered in one of the sacred places. Together they performed a great magic. Some died in the effort. But what they learned was this. The corruption has its roots in your world. And that someone must seek you out.”
“Why?”
He shook his head. “I do not know. I do not know if they themselves know.”
“What about Baku? What did he tell you?” She glanced at Baku, but his eyes remained closed as if sleeping. He did not offer any answer.
“We have not spoken much.”
Reisil nodded, recalling those painful days after she’d refused her bond with Saljane. She smiled down at the goshawk nestled in her lap and stroked her back.
~Thank the Lady you did not give up easily.
A noise rumbled in Baku’s chest. She’d forgotten he still lurked in her mind and felt a pang of guilt. His anger flared suddenly, and his bitter rage swarmed her again. She collapsed in her chair, unable to move, still unwilling to sever him from her mind. The healer in her knew how much he needed the connection, how painful Yohuac’s denial was. But she felt the edges of her consciousness fraying, felt herself sliding down into black nothingness.
“Baku. Baku! Stop! Stop it now!” Yohuac stood over her, his cheeks flushed, grasping her chin in a firm grip, his other hand on her shoulder to steady her.
Reisil drew a deep, ragged breath, and then another, as Baku withdrew sulkily from her mind.
“Easy. Breathe slowly.” Yohuac’s voice was gentle, and he moved his hands to her shoulders, where he rubbed at her knotted muscles. He smelled of wind and woodsmoke. Reisil relaxed into his touch, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against her chair. Yohuac continued rubbing her shoulders for several minutes and then stepped away.
Reisil opened her eyes languidly. “Thank you.”
Yohuac nodded and dropped back to the floor.
Exhaustion caught up with Reisil, and she fought the heavy weight dragging at her. “So why send you?”
He shrugged, looking away, lips pulling tight. “The nahuallis chose me.”
“But you know why.”
“Yes.”
“And?” When he didn’t answer, Reisil pushed again. “Secrets aren’t going to help. I know that much at least.”
He considered for a moment and then nodded, still looking away as he spoke. “I am the first son of the Oceotl tribe. I am the greatest hunter, and the most skilled in fighting. For this I was selected.” He stopped, but Reisil waited, sensing there was more. “The nahuallis are women. My sisters and mother are nahualli, as are all the women ancestors of my line. No man has ever been known to show such abilities. Except me.”
“You?” Reisil leaned forward, coming fully awake. “You can use magic?”
He shook his head. “I am not trained. But as I said, I have a destiny. If I do not return . . . It was thought that to send me was to also offer a great sacrifice and thus gain the gods’ goodwill.”
Reisil stared, dumbfounded.
“And now I have arrived, and you tell me that you cannot help.”
Reisil lifted one shoulder. “We too are facing many problems akin to yours. A plague, drought, dangerous creatures. A few years ago our enemies attacked a town on the border between Kodu Riik and Patverseme. The wizards cast some sort of spell there. Mysane Kosk was destroyed. Or so we
thought. We still aren’t sure what they did. But we know now it’s the cause of our troubles, and from your description, somehow it’s the cause of yours.”
She held out her hands, turning them over. “I have some magical ability, but like you, I am not trained.”
“Do you say there is no hope?”
Reisil shook her head even as her heart quailed. She wasn’t ready to give up yet. “The wizards who destroyed Mysane Kosk were banished, and no one knows where to find them. They are the only ones who know what they have done and how to reverse it.”
“You think they will tell you this?”
“They don’t have any reason not to.” Except that she’d killed a hundred of them. “The war is over and they’ve no reason to want the destruction to continue.” Except their hatred for Kodu Riik, except their need for a new land now that they’d been banished.
“When will you seek them?”
Reisil’s lips twisted as if she’d bitten into a crab apple. “It’s not that easy. I also serve, and I am told I am more valuable here.”
“You do not believe it.”
She shrugged. “For now. Until I can figure out the next step. Between you and the Scallacians, I’m not sure what to do.” She brushed several strands of loose hair from her forehead. “For now you must pretend to be ahalad-kaaslane . They still might try to kill you, but you’re the first ahalad-kaaslane pairing since the Lady’s withdrawal. Which suggests She’s not so far gone after all. That will help keep you safe.”
She turned to Baku, who was looking at her now, reinforcing her thoughts with words. “There are those who want to kill me. They’ve tried twice now, and when you overwhelm my mind, I am helpless. If you don’t want me dead, you have to control yourself.”
“Who wants to kill you?” Yohuac demanded.
“At this point, I’m only certain of who doesn’t. And I can count them on one hand.”
“We will guard you,” Yohuac declared, and Baku snorted agreement.
Reisil smiled. If they expected an argument, they weren’t getting one. “I’m going to bed. You two make yourselves as comfortable as you can. There are blankets there. I have an appointment at dawn, which,” she said yawning, “is all of a couple hours away. Good night.”
Path of Honor Page 25