by Rin Chupeco
“Get back into camp!” I yelled at Lan, already starting the retreat myself. The demons were moving too quickly, caring nothing for their casualties. “Mudforgers!”
The ground surrounding the campsite shimmered, decayed into darker shades of brown. It caught the first wave of shadows, the creatures sinking quickly down, limbs clutching desperately at nothing. It took the second and third waves too, and by the time the seventh and eighth had staggered over, we had already retreated back behind the air-dome. Though I wasn’t sure how long it could hold.
“I rejected it,” Odessa sobbed. “I don’t want this. I don’t want it!”
Still puzzled, I looked to Lan.
“It wants her to trade my life in exchange for its last gift,” she supplied. “She refused.”
Ah, right—Haidee and I had first met them right after she’d rejected it the first time, and a giant-ass demonic incarnation of Inanna had come climbing out of the Abyss to protest her decision. But how could the Catseye sound so composed?
A scraping noise made me look up. A part of the air-dome had opened up, and Haidee had climbed on top of the tallest sand-tent we had, up high enough to poke her head out of the barrier. She raised her hands, and a sandstorm rose up in response, sweeping across the desert and taking out another huge swath of the monsters.
I heard a shriek. The cannibals’ prison was along the edges of the dome, and one of them, in a fit of panic, had rolled too close to the barrier. The shadows had reached the blockade, clawing at the shield and battering down the already-thin layer from sheer numbers alone. A cluster of them overwhelmed the dome long enough to rip a hole in the layers of protection; I saw some of the Windshifters working hard to put it back up, stronger than before—but not before the unlucky prisoner was dragged away, still screaming even as the darkness rose up and overwhelmed him. My stomach churned.
The shadows returned, tearing another hole, but Lisette had quicker reflexes, aiming and firing a well-placed shot through the gap before any of the shadows could get through again, blasting a knot of them to smithereens.
Another tornado swept through the right flank of the invaders, but there were still far too many. The other clans had followed Lisette’s lead, taking up positions around the weaker points of the air-dome and firing at the creatures struggling to get in. Odessa had recovered, and the monsters’ attacks slowed as she fought to gain back control, though it was clear the effort was sapping quickly at her strength. I knew Haidee must be tiring as well.
I was considering pissing my pants when a fresh wave of tornadoes tore through, annihilating more groups of shadows. The stunned look on Haidee’s face told me this wasn’t her doing.
And then I saw them.
There were about two dozen in all, and that was frightening enough. I’d never seen more than one at the same time, never realized that they could gather like this, as if they too could congregate and strategize even in death. The mirages all looked the same from my vantage point—the same cloaks and hoods covering their faces, each one silent and imposing. As we looked on, one of them raised their hands, copying Haidee’s gesture, and another sandstorm swept through the horde, destroying every shadow it came into contact with. When the dust cleared, the mirage responsible was gone, its energies used up in the assault, sacrificing what life it had left to aid us.
Yet another sandstorm raged in from the opposite side of the neutral grounds, but this one came with lightning. The bolts tore through the rest of the galla, efficient in their ruthlessness. The hooded figure responsible was dressed differently from the other mirages—a golden cloak that showed none of the wear and tatters of the rest, though it also wore a hood.
Two more attacks and soon the sands were clear of the last of the enemy. Noelle and the others now had their weapons trained at the new threats, fearful despite their help. In all the years I’d lived here, none of those mirages had ever come to our assistance. It was difficult to feel grateful now.
One of the mirages drifted forward, its hooded face turned to regard Haidee, who was still standing on top of the sand-tent, her mouth open. It bowed—bowed!—in her direction, and the rest of them copied the gesture.
And then, all at once, they were gone, like they had never been there to begin with.
All that remained was the golden-robed mirage, the air around it still charged with crackling electricity. It shifted, and this time I saw a few locks tumble out from underneath the hood, saw the colors shift from red to green to white. Haidee gasped.
“Mother?” she cried out, but more sand whirled around the remaining figure until, when it finally abated, she too, was gone.
Chapter Six
Lan on Neutral Ground
IF ANY OF THE CLAN leaders still held doubts about either Odessa or Haidee, those were long gone now. The sight of the mirages bowing down to Haidee, and Odessa’s efforts to control the galla, had convinced them that to have two goddesses by their side was a better alternative than any scenario without.
Haidee, on the other hand, was despondent. “Why would she aid us, but then leave without saying a word?” she cried. “What was the point?”
“The point was to save you.” Arjun sounded hesitant, unwilling to defend Latona’s actions if he could help it.
Haidee set her jaw. “If she thinks I should feel grateful, I’m not. I’m not listening to her until she tells me she’s willing to sit down and talk. Not if she wants to make amends without listening to what I have to say.”
Sumiko was the one who specialized in analyzing behavior, but I had to agree with Haidee’s assessment. Still, I thought my Catseye friend would have said Latona’s actions were a good sign. The Sun Goddess had been willing to set foot outside her city. She wasn’t as detached from all this as her daughter thought she was. But Haidee had refused to say another word on the subject, though she still seemed set on returning to the Golden City to hunt for more information about the Breaking. I didn’t want to think about that possible reunion.
The rest of the day cycle had been dedicated to rebuilding the camp, working to enforce the air-dome above us, and setting up more fortifications in case any more galla came calling. I tried my best to be helpful, healing whatever old injuries I could coax the clans into admitting. It felt important to establish as much goodwill among them as I could.
The cannibals were no longer antagonistic. They all fell into nonsensical babbling and prostrated themselves each time either goddess walked past their pens. Their newfound piety kept them out of further trouble, at least.
“Those mirages know something we don’t,” Haidee insisted, pacing the ground before us. In contrast, Odessa had been silent ever since the galla’s attack on the camp, content to pore through her sister’s notebook detailing every piece of information we had gleaned from Brighthenge. “Why would they show up and save us?”
“Jesmyn’s mirage led us most of the way through the Sand Sea,” Arjun reminded her. “She was the reason we both decided to set out in the first place.” He paused. “And even before that, she had already saved me from the Hellmakers once.”
“Maybe if we collared one of them we could get more answers,” Haidee said, scowling.
“Jesmyn’s mirage never gave us any answers. Just pointed us in the right direction and stayed far away; we couldn’t even get close to her.”
Haidee sighed loudly, then resumed her pacing. “They know something. What about the galla? Why attack now? Was Aeon’s turning a catalyst?” She paused, as if struck by an idea. “Is this what Mother meant when she said there would be repercussions? What does she know that we don’t?”
“‘The world torn asunder,’” Odessa said. “‘Night and day rule from their two thrones. Where the darkest hour and the brightest light meet, the Hellmouth shall be crossed by she strengthened under the gift of day, by she liberated with the gift of night. And the world is whole again.’ That’s what it said on the plaques at Brighthenge, right?”
Our discovery of those texts had sent a chill through me.
Within Brighthenge, that strange temple that bore witness to the Breaking, were passages commemorating Haidee and Odessa’s deity-ancestors. But the fate of only one twin was emblazoned on each stone memorial; the other had been sacrificed to the Abyss, and therefore had no achievements to honor.
“I agree. Latona knows something,” Odessa said. “Devika must have told her about our prophecy. If only more books had survived. . . .”
“You a scholar, too?” Arjun asked.
Odessa coughed. “I—I don’t know if I would call myself a scholar, but I tend to read books in which learning to pick out the subtlety in context is encouraged.”
I thought about the numerous romance novels Odessa had in her room, the armloads of volumes I’d seen her carry around back at Old Wallof’s bookstore, and the few she’d thought to smuggle along during our mission to the Abyss, and grinned silently to myself.
Haidee sank to a crouch, hands on either side of her head, eyes closed as if in agony. “There was another letter from Father,” she said, anguished. “I read it once, but Mother burned it to prevent me from finding out more. The Devoted were trying to play one sister off of the other, even then. . . .”
I understood Haidee’s pain, and also her frustration. The only people who knew what had happened were their mothers. But I doubted Latona or Asteria would ever humor us with the truth.
“There was one other book that I remembered reading from her collection. It had no title, but I would recognize it if I saw it again. Something about that night-and-day passage . . . The more I think about it, the more certain I feel that I’ve read something similar to it before, and it has to be in one of those books. I’m going to sneak in, find those books, and then sneak out again.”
“Like hell you are,” the Firesmoker sputtered.
“Got any other bright ideas? We’re working with missing information. I’d like to fill in those gaps if I can, and if anyone can successfully infiltrate the Golden City it’s going to be me. I’m a mechanika. I helped maintain those air-domes. I know the weaknesses to exploit.”
“That would have been very useful to us years ago,” Lisette said, poking her head inside the tent. With her were Mother Salla and the rest of the other clan leaders, all solemn. Salla had already assured us that they didn’t intend to kick us out of camp, but I felt myself tense up all the same, expecting the worst.
“We’ve come to an agreement,” Tamera said curtly. “We will work with you, because that increases our own chances of survival.”
“But . . . ,” Arjun muttered, low enough for the older woman not to hear.
“But,” the clan mistress continued, “there is every reason to be wary of the abilities you both display—abilities on a scale we have never known to be possible. Mother Salla says that the galla can corrupt even a goddess, that they can make her turn on her own people at a whim. The Saiga clan have much to answer for, but it could easily have been us choking on sand, were you inclined to direct your anger in our direction. I apologize for being blunt, Your Holiness, but how can we know that you would not do the same to us if we incur your wrath?”
Odessa gazed back at the woman placidly enough, but it was difficult for me to contain my anger at their disrespect, after everything she’d done for their sake. When my goddess finally spoke, it was a gentle murmur, calm and pleasant. “You won’t,” she said.
“Lady Odessa—”
“Would you like me to lie to you? When I first received these gifts I was not in control of myself, not knowing how much they could affect me. Do you know how difficult it was to reclaim my sanity? To pull myself back from the point of no return? Even as I speak now, they’re in my mind; enticing me, telling me that I will suffer no consequences, whatever I do.”
“Odessa—” I began.
She shook her head. “I have to be honest, Lan. I’m a guest in their territory, and I owe it to them to explain all the dangers. I don’t want to be cruel. I want to rid myself of these gifts, but I’m afraid that I can’t. If anything goes wrong—I won’t mince words. If I cannot pull myself back from the brink, then you must kill me.”
“And I’ll kill anyone who tries!” I snarled.
Odessa turned to me. “Lan—”
“I can bring her back,” I continued, ignoring her. I knew that everything she said was the truth, but I could not stand by and let her put herself at risk. “I’ve always known how to bring her back. Let any consequences fall on me, but I swear to you all, here and now—I won’t let her go that far.”
Silence trailed in the wake of my words. “I’ll vouch for Lan,” Haidee said agreeably. “And I need Odessa here, or we’ll all fail. I can’t do this without her. You know that, don’t you?”
Odessa looked back at her. “I know,” she said, sounding tired. “But we have to prepare for the worst.”
“We’ll find it in the city. I know it. I don’t know what Mother has planned, but I won’t let her stop me from finding out the truth.”
“You’re something, you know that?” Arjun said gruffly. “Nothing seems to faze you.”
Haidee skipped toward him, gave him a playful peck on the mouth. “We’re just that good,” she said lightly, then skipped over to where the crowd gathered. Arjun grumbled at that, but the smile remained on his lips, his gaze adoring as he watched Haidee.
“Haidee’s right,” I told Odessa. “I won’t have you second-guessing yourself. Come with me for a moment.”
“Where are we going?”
“The elders may not be keen on us, but there’s another clan we can sway to our side, if you’ll help me.”
The cannibals were surprisingly quiet, most flat on their backs and staring aimlessly up into the sky. They scrambled to their knees when Odessa approached, several pressing their foreheads against the sand. Their leader, the one with the scarred face, froze, staring fearfully at her.
I stepped forward, and he shrunk even further back, a hand rising to cover his face as if expecting me to slap him again.
“Get up,” I barked, grabbing him by the shoulder and hauling him to his feet. I’d told Odessa that I would do most of the talking, which she agreed to with some relief.
“There will be no more attacks on this camp by any of you,” I said. The sweet round fruit we’d gathered from Odessa’s tree broke apart in my goddess’s hands, blades of Air slicing them into halves. The cannibals followed her movements, knowing that those sharp winds could just as easily slice through their throats if they made the wrong move. “Her Holiness Odessa saved your lives, which means you are now hers to do with as she sees fit. You will obey her, or I will personally toss you out into the desert without any food, water, or rigs. With Her Holiness, you will no longer have to hunger. You will no longer have to hunt. But you will be her weapons. Fight for her, and I will see to it that you will always be fed. Do we have an understanding?”
The leader watched her, something almost like admiration in his gaze, and nodded.
“Swear to her. Swear it on your beloved’s grave.”
He wet his lips. There were tears in his eyes. “There was no grave, milady, Your Holiness. But I swear! Feed us, and I swear it on what’ll be left of my bones!” The others began to yell and clamor, taking up the same rallying cry, making the same macabre oaths.
I took the rest of the potatoes from Odessa, tossed them into the crowd. The men snatched them up, gobbling hungrily, still sobbing.
“How did you know they would agree?” Odessa asked.
“You did most of the work for me just by standing there.”
“What did he mean when he said that there was no grave?”
I closed my eyes. “That’s not important.”
“Don’t shelter me from bad things, Lan.” Odessa’s voice was pleading. “I’ve had enough of that from Mother. Please.”
“Her body was”—I took a deep breath—“consumed. He said as much. And as far as I know, they’re the only cannibals out in that desert. Arjun would have told us if there were more clan
s like them.”
“You mean . . . ?” Horror gripped Odessa’s expression.
“I don’t know who it was that killed her, but I know he was forced to—either by someone else, or because he had no choice. These poor boys—they’re just as much a victim of the desert as anyone else. That’s why they chased everyone else down, even when the odds were against them—because they knew they’d have to kill another of their own if they came back empty-handed. Oh, Odessa. . . .”
It was too late. She was already tearing up. I tugged her to one side while the Hellmakers feasted, and kissed her, hoping that would stop the flow.
“I’m all right,” she whispered. “I needed to know, even if it makes me cry.”
“You’re a better person than you know. You’re not cruel. Nothing will make you be cruel.”
Shadows flitted across her pale eyes. “You don’t know the voices in my head.”
“Odessa . . .”
“I’m not afraid for myself,” she said. “I’m afraid of the seventh galla. I saw it there among the horde, in those blue jewels I’ve come to hate. I’m afraid it might make me do bad things I don’t want to, just like that Hellmaker. And Haidee—Haidee can help me chase away the urges. You can help me chase away the urges. I’d rather die than lose you.”
“That’s not going to happen.” It was my turn to take her into my arms, knowing full well I might not be able to keep that promise. “I swear it.”
Chapter Seven
Odessa at the Golden City
LADY LISETTE HAD VOLUNTEERED TO infiltrate the Golden City with us, and Arjun had some problems with that.
“Have you ever been inside the Golden City?” Lisette had asked Arjun archly. “You don’t know anything about the city, either.”
“No, but I’ve got more reasons to go than you do.” I knew he was suspicious, and for good reason. But Lisette didn’t strike me as the malicious sort, and she had always been polite to me, even playful.
Oddly enough, Lan appeared to share Arjun’s skepticism, becoming a little more watchful when the other girl was nearby. “It’s normal for me to be mistrustful,” she’d grumbled when I’d asked, though she wasn’t as vigilant with the other clan leaders. Noelle had only laughed when I’d pointed that out, told me not to think about it too much.