Naatos planted his feet wider apart. "The children you spoke of…continue on this path, and they will not have to grow up without their parents because they will join them in the afterlife."
Vorec gave a snort of disgust. "They are beyond your reach. I changed their names, provided them with resources, and sent them away as soon as I returned. They will not be burdened by my name or actions. Today I have bid farewell to the last of my family. And if you kill others and say it is because of me, I will spit your words in your face. Because you are the one who kills. You do so because violence and hatred have commanded you from the beginning. I accept none of your blame."
WroOth laughed coldly. "Accept it or don't. It won't change what will happen."
"You two are simply demonstrating my point." Vorec lifted a bag from his side. "I know that skinchangers must be dealt with. Thankfully you have lost this round. As I said, I cannot do to you what you deserve. That is beyond my skill and capacity. What I can do is make you suffer and then ensure that you do not harm anyone else in this nation or in this world. I am not concerned about the rest of the worlds or even about the rest of creation. You may do with them as you like. I care about only this one world. The people here. This land. So…" He poured more huanna into the first lamp, then the second. "You will sleep again, and while you sleep, you will be taken back to the Tue-Rah. I have the Para bands. I will send them through. Then I will change the location. I will send her through, and then I will send you through. All of you will be sent to different places. Different times, if I can manage it. And then I will destroy the Tue-Rah once and for all."
WroOth cupped his hand around his ear. "I did not catch the last part," he said, stepping closer to the bars. "Could you come closer and say it again?"
Vorec smiled. "Such desperation. It doesn't become you, skinchanger. Well, it will soon be over." He strode toward the staircase, only pausing once he reached the second step. "Perhaps if you truly love her, you'll kill her now. It would be kinder than what the wilderness holds, don't you think?"
25
The Missing Picture
Shon paced along the top of Telhetum's outer wall. Faint traces of dirt marred the pale surface of the path, along with scuffmarks and light bootprints. Matthu and the others were late. Too late.
He glanced back toward the palace, shame tight in his chest and throat. Matthu had assured him that this was an important role, just as Shon had once assured him that various small tasks Matthu performed were indeed vital.
So much had changed. And not for the better. The feelings of abandonment and isolation had been painful enough before, but this was far worse.
Shon turned his focus to the rolling hills and forest. If Amelia had simply agreed with him, they could have been long gone by now. Chastising thoughts returned, both at her and himself. He drew his bandaged hand over his eyes. Focus, focus, he thought. What hadn't happened did not matter. He set his hand against his bow, struggling. Four days ago he would never have guessed how weak and useless he would feel now.
"How goes the watch?" a familiar voice asked.
Shon spun around, startled at Kepsalon's presence. The old Machat sat on the top of the turret to his left. "What are you doing here?"
"Helping you keep the guards off the wall. Not that it should be a problem as they're still sleeping from those draughts Skelt gave them." Kepsalon hopped down, landing on the spine of the lower roof. His balance wavered for a breath, and he straightened and looked Shon in the eye. "But not all is well, is it?"
"Where have you and the other Machat been?" Shon demanded, refusing to acknowledge Kepsalon's impressive agility. Kepsalon was easily more than three hundred years of age, and yet he moved with more grace and speed than many Awdawms Shon knew. Even with the occasional faltering or misstep.
Kepsalon's gaze softened, patient as if he expected this response. "There are many matters which need my attention within this world and the others. And the other Machat likewise have numerous tasks. Eiram's destruction is imminent. We have been preparing for years to give them an escape if the inhabitants of Eiram will but take it. And despite all of my great skills, I am not yet capable of appearing in more than one place at once."
"Eiram? That's where Amelia's from." Shon shook his head. Death did follow her. Maybe she was cursed. Not that it mattered. He didn't care. She needed to know he didn't care about the curse or what she was supposed to do. "Naatos is going to destroy it. She probably won't care about that when the time finally comes." Naatos. The name soured his mouth.
"It's not quite as simple as you might think. There are many other players. Naatos and his brothers have no desire to destroy Eiram. Others…well, let's just say that in the fulfillment of their plans, they would destroy it. But further discussion of this is irrelevant for now. Much like you standing guard here. You do realize that your brother and his cohorts have been captured, don't you?"
Yet another punch to his esteem. Shon drew in a deep breath. Heat built within him, flushing through his cheeks and the back of his neck. He resisted the urge to tug at his collar. "No…I thought they were late." Cold sweat formed on his forehead and palms, sickening him with the sharp contrast. "I've got to go." He'd failed at being a good commander. He couldn't fail at being a good brother any more than he already had.
Kepsalon took hold of his arm. "There is nothing you can do now. The elder commander waits for all those who side with the Third Nalenth to make themselves known. Every way in is being watched. You would simply be captured. Your brother and the other members of your team have been placed in an inner chamber. There are guards hidden at both the interior and exterior entrances. If you go now, you will simply be added to the collection of prisoners. In fact, Vorec thinks you are unstable enough to come. I came here to warn you."
Shon thrust Kepsalon's hand away. "You can't expect me to stand here!"
"I don't. I expect you to sit." Kepsalon pushed him back lightly, then gripped him by the shoulders. "Just days ago, you were dead. It takes time to heal. It takes even more time if you refuse to rest. Especially if you're going to go around stabbing yourself. And once you are rested, I'm going to get you to safety and then assist the Third Nalenth and your brother."
Shon's neck and shoulders tightened. "Get out of my way."
"Do you wish to add more failures to your ever-growing list? Failure to escape an elderly Machat perhaps?" Kepsalon set his arms akimbo, his voice growing sterner. "You are falling apart, Awdawm."
"How would you know…" Shon let his voice trail off. The moonlight highlighted the Machat's eyes, making them practically glow. Something about Kepsalon terrified him in that moment. He was, after all, the one who had put the bakai on him. Let it burrow into his mind. Released emotions and sensations into his very soul that had not had the time to develop. Chialao was a Machat too. And look at what she had done. WroOth despised the Machat. Perhaps he had good reason for such hatred.
Kepsalon smiled a little. As he turned, the moonlight no longer caught his eyes. He sat on the stone ridge, crossing his legs. "This probably isn't going to end well. We're on a narrow line as it is. But we must wait until dawn. Things have taken a darker and less foreseen course, but there is a way through."
Shon's thoughts remained fogged. He stared at his own hands. Useless. Selfish. Foolish. Only a few of the words he could use to describe himself. It was as if the best part of himself had been left behind when she brought him back to life. "I can't wait," he said softly.
His own brother was in trouble. A brother who had had to drag him back to his conscience. A brother who should not have had to put himself in such danger because of his older brother's failure. "I have to go now."
Kepsalon held his hand up, letting it stop just short of Shon's chest. "No. Speed won't change what you've done. Or rather, what you haven't done."
Shon knew exactly what Kepsalon meant. The bitterness of his shame increased, sickening him. He had passed the dungeon's window before Dian covered it. Amelia's bloodi
ed form haunted his mind now, but he didn't attempt to push the image away. Though he fought to excuse himself, each possible offering fell away hollow. He stared at his cracked palms. "It would have happened no matter what I did," he mumbled. As if that offered even the slightest justification.
"Perhaps. But that isn't what matters. You did wrong. You know that. It cannot be changed. So do not dwell on what you could have done, but rather make it right. There will be time to grieve, though there is still the matter of your mind."
"So we're just going to sit here and do what? Talk?" Shon closed his eyes, releasing a pained breath.
"Unless you would rather sleep."
"I've slept enough."
"Then for now we talk."
Shon lifted his head, staring into the sky. He had never imagined that this was possible for him. Did others feel such despair? Was there any way out?
The stars twinkled above, brilliant white against deep indigo black. So often before, they had comforted him. Reminded him of how tremendous all of creation was and how he was only a small yet integral part. But tonight he simply felt tiny. No. Worse than that. A part that had once mattered but now had no purpose except as a warning. "I feel as if I'm losing my mind," he said at last.
"You are." Kepsalon stared into the sky as well, a contemplative expression on his face. "The Levthro. Why do you think I wouldn't let WroOth enter it? I might have been young and nervous, but I was neither a fool nor an assassin. It seems that Chialao may have been the latter."
"She actually meant to kill me?" Somehow Shon had always assumed he was incidental. Amelia was the person she hated. He'd even gotten the impression Chialao had been flirting with him.
Kepsalon shrugged. "We Machat do not know all things. And we often hide more from our own kind than most would suspect. And at times like this we are spread especially thin."
Shon wasn't sure whether he felt encouraged that he was more than an afterthought. Rising, he struck his hands against his legs. He resumed pacing. "We should start making plans."
"You may yet have a future, Shon. But it is not with Amelia. What moments of happiness you may manage to steal will not be worth the pain you will create." Kepsalon now stared at the palace, shaking his head slowly. "The bakai is powerful on its own, but when combined with the Levthro's effects, well. The bakai must be removed as soon as possible. Ironic as it may seem, the bakai, if removed, may save you from the Levthro's demands."
"The bakai…" Shon's hand went instinctively to the point where the rock had struck him.
Kepsalon pointed toward the same spot. "That's what started this." He plucked a stray thread from his belt and held it up. "This is your mind." He wrapped the brown thread around his thumb. "This is Amelia's." He tied it to his other thumb as well. "And the only way you will not go mad is if—" He snapped the thread.
The thread separated, becoming two pieces that slowly spiraled downward. His mouth went dry. "I don't want to let her go." Maybe he didn't entirely hate her. Maybe she was terrible in her own way. But…the thought of losing her horrified him still.
"You must." Kepsalon tucked the threads into his pocket. "Otherwise, you will never escape the Levthro's curse, and that will strip all your sanity eventually as all the possibilities that you witnessed play out in your mind for the rest of your days. But that's also why I am here. Before the Levthro, you had many bold and likely chances. But after it, things changed. It was desire that led you to the Levthro though, and for that I consider myself responsible. I am going to do all I can to keep you alive and get you to that place you next need to reach." He glanced over the parapets and pursed his lips. "The messenger has arrived."
"Messenger for what?" Shon searched the outside of the city.
Kepsalon placed his hand on Shon's shoulder and pressed him back. "I'm going to diverge from all the castings I've done and just tell you to stay still. It is important that you remain here."
Shon frowned. Resentment bristled within him. "Why?"
"Because so long as you remain uncaptured, you may be able to free your brother and his companions during Amelia's trial and simplify all of this while sparing yourself some unpleasantries."
"What?"
"It wasn't enough that Amelia was flogged. The king has discovered that the political seeds planted years ago have taken root in powerful ways, and the kingdom is not only his to maintain. There are others to whom he must answer." Kepsalon smiled thinly. "Politics are rarely an easy game. For every life taken or stolen, far more are demanded."
"I don't understand what you're saying. Libysha is the greatest and most powerful nation in all of Reltux," Shon said.
Kepsalon's gaze returned to the outskirts of the city. Pigeons and tracker eagles soared on the winds, swooping down to their destinations. The moonlight caught on their wings, glinting silver, blue, and grey. "So you think, child. So you think." His voice softened. "Nothing has gone as any here intended. There is so much chaos and grief it is almost as hard to see as it was before the Tue-Rah's fall. The darkness might be a relief compared to this."
"Libysha's enemies have been crushed," Shon said. He drew closer and tried to follow Kepsalon's gaze. "There is no one strong enough to combat us."
"I never said it was one of Libysha's enemies that was causing the problem."
"And they're the reason Amelia will stand trial?" Shon doubted that any of Libysha's allies had that sort of power. There were times when Reda and Nalthume had both made great demands, but they were bound to Libysha through blood and marriage. It was natural that they sometimes behaved in an almost entitled manner. "Given what she did—"
Kepsalon turned. The honey gold in his eyes seemed to glow. "I do not recommend you try to justify what happened when you were called to intervene on the Third Nalenth's account," he said coolly. "The Talbokian may have been incorrect when he assessed your legal ability to intercede for Amelia, but he did all that he could."
Shon stiffened. "I did what I thought I could."
Kepsalon gave a dismissive shrug.
"I'm not saying that it was right, but the law had to be followed."
Kepsalon glanced back at him again. "What is your point? That you could have saved her but did not? That much is clear to anyone with a mind to observe. Or is it that the law prevented you from acting and you are faultless in this?"
"If I could have, then…" Shon struggled to find the words.
"Let me make this simpler for you, Shon," Kepsalon said. "What I did in striking you with the bakai was cruel, a choice between two evils. I regret the pain and the damage that it has caused you, and I will do all I can to repair the situation so that you can have a life beyond this love. Which you will have so long as you can refrain from indulging in stupidity. What Amelia did in bringing you back to life while you still loved her without being willing to be with you could be regarded cruel, from a certain perspective. She regrets the pain and damage that it has caused you, and she has done what she can to fix the situation, though the reality is that she needs to stay as far from you as possible. Especially since as of right now, as Naatos does not know you live, and it would be best if he remained believing in your death. Now, as for you, my young Ayamin, you have violated your brother's trust and betrayed the woman you thought you love. The proper course is—"
Shon sprang to his feet. "You're right. I've wasted enough time in pity and inaction. If we act fast, we can get them all out."
Kepsalon's eyes widened. He grabbed for Shon's arm but missed. "No! You sikalt." He jumped forward, following as swiftly as he could.
Shon moved out of his reach and leaped down to the next ledge. Anxious energy propelled him forward. Perhaps if he was swift enough, he would not only save Amelia and Matthu and the rest of their team, but he would also kill Naatos.
Yes. That was exactly what he would do. And if he locked the dungeon door behind him, then surely he would succeed. Once Naatos was dead, then Amelia's marriage to him was meaningless. There would be no reason for her to be pu
t on trial because the threat would be gone, and surely even if there were other entities manipulating Libysha's actions, then that would satisfy even them.
He skirted one of the watchpoints and scrambled past another. His old strength poured back into him, stunning, powerful, brilliant. It was easy to once again run silently, his favorite leather boots skimming the surface of the stone.
Above, Kepsalon ran alongside him. He made desperate motions for Shon to stop, but Shon ignored him. He had been passive before. Not any longer. He always waited until it was too late to act, but not this time.
He neared the inner courtyard that led to the dungeon. The door hung open, the passage inside dark except for a dull glow near the bottom. Shon slowed and looked about. A pebble struck him on the nose. Glancing up, he glimpsed Kepsalon crouched on the roof above. The old Machat shook his head fiercely. If the Machat wanted to stop him so much, let him try.
Shon slid forward. He knew these watchpoints by heart. He and his friends had played in these shadows often, and it was late enough that the shadows stretched long beneath the moonlight, making it easier to hide in his thick charcoal cloak. Besides, the night had nearly passed. Vorec would almost certainly believe that all of the escape attempts had been made. Their forces were already slim due to the casualties of the past few days. How many could be guarding this place now? And even more were drugged and sleeping. Who would suspect a single man?
He bolted through the shadow toward the doorway. A great force struck him between his shoulders and punched him into the stones.
"Halt!" a strange voice shouted from a few yards away.
Kepsalon groaned, grabbing his own foot as he rolled off Shon's back. "Foolish Awdawms." Kepsalon winced. "Old fool Machat." He rolled up his trouser leg and grimaced. "Well, that isn't so good."
Princess Reviled Page 25