She trailed off and Lukys reached for Sophia with his mind, seeking to comfort her, to reassure her that he was there, that he understood. But for the first time since they had been granted the gift of the Sovereigns, he was met by a wall of grey, so thick he sensed not a hint of what hid beneath.
The sudden absence of her mind made his heart begin to race and he sat frozen for a second, unable to focus, to pull his thoughts together. Sophia’s grey eyes swept the room, and in them he saw the emotion she hid, anger and fear, and confusion too. She knew the threat Maya presented, the danger the Old One posed to all their kinds. Her people were not the only ones that would suffer should the Old Ones return.
But they would be the first, if they were to stop Maya.
Abruptly, Sophia rose. Without another word, she strode from the room. Movement came from around them as the other Tangatan guards followed her out, until only the humans remained.
Letting out a long sigh, Nguyen sat back in his chair and entwined his fingers. “There is a time in every ruler’s reign where they come to realise a terrible truth.”
“Oh, and what’s that?” Lukys snapped. In Sophia’s absence, he found himself suddenly agitated, anxious about their seperation. He could feel the memories pressing on him, an enormous ocean on which his consciousness floated, waiting to swallow him up. He feared there were more perils to the Sovereign gift than either of them knew.
The king raised his eyebrows at Lukys’s tone, but when the Sovereign did not offer an apology, he went on with his explanation.
“There are many who call me a coward, who hate me for my actions following the southern campaign.”
Lukys frowned at that. The king was not wrong. Just over a decade ago, the four kingdoms had led an invasion into the Tangatan homeland—only to have it go disastrously wrong. Barely half of those who had marched south had returned. Afterwards, Nguyen had withdrawn from the alliance, leaving the other kingdoms to face the wrath of the Tangata without Gemaho’s aid.
“Most would have had me remain faithful to the alliance,” Nguyen continued, his voice soft. “To send more Gemaho soldiers south to the frontlines, to be used as fodder in the battle against the Tangata.”
Lukys frowned, surprised by the admission. “It was a cowardly act.”
“Perhaps,” the king replied evenly, “but also a kingly one. Others do not understand, but before all else, a king’s duty is to his people. Our own wants and desires, our pride and vanity, our past loves and friendships, all of it must be put aside before the weight of duty.” He looked away, gaze sweeping out to the ships at anchor in the harbour. “I faced the Tangatan charge once, on the plains south of Calafe. After the events of that day, I knew they could not be defeated, not in open battle. Resistance would mean deaths by the thousands. That was a price I was unwilling to let my people pay.”
He looked back at Lukys, and in that moment he saw the pain in the man’s eyes, the guilt at what he had done.
“And so I ordered the Gemaho to withdraw. I abandoned the lands of Calafe, the kingdom of a man that had been my friend. Had it only been me, I would have fought to the end to protect those lands. But as king…” he trailed off, spreading his hands as though he had said everything that needed saying.
Lukys swallowed as Nguyen’s emerald eyes watched him, until finally his gaze fell to the floor. A lump lodged in his throat and he shivered, thinking of all that stood before them. The challenge they faced was daunting, the thought of protecting all of Perfugia, of defending the shores of this peaceful archipelago all but impossible. And yet…
Swallowing, Lukys rose to his feet and nodded to the king. “I’ll talk to her.”
4
The Tangata
Standing in the centre of the village, Adonis felt the very air thrumming with the Voices of the Tangata, with the growing excitement that always came before Maya’s arrival. This was the third Tangatan village they had visited since reaching the lowlands. And it would be the third they left empty, abandoned as its occupants marched north, just as its former owners the Calafe once had.
Only the Calafe had fled before the Tangatan invasion.
Adonis’s brethren would march north for conquest.
The murmur of Tangatan voices swelled to a roar in Adonis’s mind, though beneath he could still sense the beating of Maya’s own Voice as she worked her power on the crowd, feeding their anger, their lust for revenge against the humans that had tormented them. Old memories of the human invasion swelled in his mind, of brethren who had died to human blades, of youth put to the sword.
Despite knowing the source of those images and his strength as a third generation Tangata, Adonis’s blood began to pound in his ears. He clenched his fists, letting the rage sweep through him, his own bloodlust surging along with that of his brethren. And yet…he was growing accustomed to his partner’s presence, the pressure upon his mind, and finally he exhaled, relaxing as the anger flowed from him.
A shiver touched him instead as he scanned the faces of those gathered and glimpsed the prisoners in the rear, the human and her Anaheran bearers. How much longer must the human be carried, he wondered. A Tangata would have healed or died from their wounds by now. How such flawed creatures could have resisted his people for so long, he could not understand.
But it was not the human Adonis sought. His eyes settled on the Anaheran woman and he frowned. He had been harsh with her, forced her to confront the loss of her son. Adonis did not regret that, but…there was another guilt in his soul, a remorse for what Maya had done to the Anahera’s son. Young and untrained in the powers of the mind, the young Anahera had never stood a chance against the powers of the Old One.
Silence fell in Adonis’s mind, the Voices of the Tangata abruptly cut off. Only the dim pounding of Maya’s Voice remained. Now it swelled to a crescendo as she walked amongst the low built stone buildings. The Tangata parted like water before a human ship as she strode to where Adonis stood.
Adonis’s heart raced at her approach, at the sight of her swollen stomach. Smiling, she reached out a hand to cup his cheek, then pressed her lips against his. In a rush of heat, Adonis’s concerns were swept away, consumed by the touch of her mind against his own, by the roar of her Voice.
Then the warmth faded, and he found himself standing fixed in place, watching as she turned to face the crowd. She raised her arms to them, her grey eyes, so like their own, aglow with the power of the Old Ones.
“My children!” she spoke aloud, but beneath the human tone, her Voice carried to every mind in the village, caressing them, calling them, inviting them to join her. “Come, hear me. The age of the Tangata is upon us!”
At those words, the crack of wings came from overhead and half a dozen Anahera fell from the sky. Those of the Tangata who had not noticed Maya’s prisoners gasped and leapt back as the creatures landed amongst them. They might not have worshiped the Anahera as humanity did, but even the simplest of his brethren knew of the creatures, that their power was not to be trifled with.
Now the Tangata of the village watched in awe as the Anahera fell to their knees before Maya, sinking into the soft mud at the centre of the Tangatan village. Standing over the kneeling creatures, the Old One raised her hands again to Adonis’s brethren.
“See how even the mighty Anahera bow before us?” she cried. “They have accepted the power of the Tangata, the power of your new Matriarch!” Her eyes seemed to glow as she looked out over the crowd, and Adonis shivered at thrumming in the air, the hiss of her voice upon his mind. He didn’t feel the same elation he once had, watching her display, but he was still touched by her aura, by the glory of her promise. “Soon, all the world will bow to our will,” she went on. “The humans that have plagued our people for so long will be vanquished, enslaved by their betters, as they were always meant to be. My children, join me in their conquest, in the heralding of our new world.”
A roar sounded in Adonis’s mind as the Tangata that had followed Maya from New Nihelm respon
ded. It was only a moment before those of the village joined in, merging their minds with the crowd, with the collective of the Tangata that marched beneath the banner of the Old One.
Hearing the glory in their Voices, the ecstasy, a tremor shook Adonis. Witnessing their rapture, he found himself wondering if these newcomers would meet the same end as their predecessors. Would they too be left behind when she judged them weak, cast aside as though they held no more worth than the human they dragged with them?
Shivering, he looked again at Maya. Her Voice rung above those of the crowd, silencing any doubters, those who might deny her. His blood stirred as he stared at her swollen belly, the life that grew within her, and he felt his own doubt subsiding. The weeks were passing rapidly now, and it would not be long before his children took their first steps into the world. What possibilities then, with a new generation of Tangata, invigorated by the power of the Old Ones.
Adonis found himself dreaming of the days that would follow, when his children would stand alongside him in battle. Together, they would lead their people against the enemy. Whatever remained of humanity would crumble before their power.
Are you well, my mate?
Shaking himself, Adonis looked around, surprised to find Maya had returned to his side. Concern was etched into her brow and he saw now that the crowd had dissipated, gone to prepare themselves for the journey, to gather their children and elderly and leave behind this place they had made their home…
…to be led to their deaths.
Shuddering, he shook his head, frowning at his mate. He felt her mind pressing against his own, the vastness of her strength, but for once he resisted, did not capitulate to the power of her Voice.
I…confess I am concerned, he said softly, taking a step towards her and placing his hand on her engorged stomach. Our path forward, this campaign against the humans, are you sure it would not be best if you returned to New Nihelm? You could wait in safety, while I lead our forces against our foes.
A smile touched his mate’s lips and reaching down, she entwined her fingers with his. As she held his palm to her stomach, he felt the soft movement of the life within. Tears stung his eyes as images of a future yet to be flickered before his mind.
They are but a few weeks away, my mate, she said softly. These children will be everything you have ever wanted, she hesitated, her eyes growing uncharacteristically distant. But I cannot do as you suggest.
Why? he asked, reaching up to cup her cheek. The fate of our entire world rests upon your survival. Should the humans strike a lucky blow, should you fall…
I will not fall, Maya replied, a soft smile upon her lips. She turned away then, eyes drifting to the mountains above. Still you do not understand what is at stake, Tangata, she said. Once, my parents delayed their assault upon the humans, sought safety that my siblings and I could be welcomed into this world. It cost them everything. She turned abruptly, her deep grey eyes catching Adonis’s. They are a plague upon this earth, the humans, a flame that grows brighter with every day we delay. Did you not see the magic the one in the mountains wielded? Grant them time, and soon a hundred such will come against us. She shook her head. Or worse, rediscover the magics of their ancestors. No, we must crush them now, grind them back into the mud from whence they came.
Adonis shivered at Maya’s words, for they were accompanied not only by her Voice, but images of her past, of a man and woman standing in a cave, of skies stained red, of horizons turned black with ash, an abyss that would never be filled. He swallowed, wondering at such a time, at a world twisted by the old magics of humanity.
A warm hand touched his cheek, drawing him back, and he found himself staring into the dark eyes of the Old One. For a second he glimpsed something there, a flicker in her mind, a hint of yellow fear, of doubt. But what did Maya, a being capable of defeating even the Anahera themselves, have to fear? Surely she did not truly consider humans such a threat?
Maya stroked his cheek again, then smiling she moved away, calling for the Tangata to join her, to make ready for the journey, for the next desperate race across the wilderness. They couldn’t be far from the great river that marked the border of human territory, just a few more days. Would they meet the humans there, or would their human captive’s words prove true, and they would find the creatures busy warring amongst one another?
Adonis shook his head at the thought. Maya might fear them, but it seemed to him that if anything, humans had become like the Anahera—a shade of their former greatness. How could a species that spent half its time murdering one another possibly pose a threat to the Tangata?
But there was no arguing with the Old One, no dissuading her with his own Voice. So they would march north and fall upon the enemy, slaughter them where they stood.
And then he would welcome his children into a new world…
“She’s using you, you know.”
Adonis started as a voice carried from the shadows. The soft tapping of wood against rock came from a nearby building as the human, Maisie, appeared. While she still required bearers to carry her across the endless wilderness, her twisted leg had healed enough that she could hobble around the village with the aid of a wooden crutch. Only one guard was with the human, but Adonis was irritated to see it was the woman, Nyriah. At least she kept her face stoic today, her grief concealed.
Scowling, Adonis swung on the human woman. What would you know, human? he snarled, before realizing belatedly that she could not hear him. Cursing, he gestured for the Anahera to translate.
Maisie laughed before Nyriah could finish. “Your words might be hidden from me, Adonis.” He started at the use of his name, but the human went on before he could interrupt. “But the body language between you and your master does not lie. One gets to know these things, when your survival depends on reading those around you.” She leaned casually against a building, appearing relaxed, though she faced a creature capable of tearing her in two at a whim. “Yep, no doubt about it, she’s using you.”
A pounding started in Adonis’s ears at her words and he felt the Tangatan rage coming upon him, felt its burning, the longing to grasp the pitiful creature before him and throttle the life from her.
In an instant, he snapped, launching himself forward. The human’s eyes widened—then he was upon her, catching the woman by the throat, hauling her into the air. A squawk escaped Maisie as she struggled, but it was little use. Her face contorted in pain as Adonis shook her, her injured leg bumping against his shoulder. Gasping, she slumped in Adonis’s grasp, helpless before his rage.
Still trembling, Adonis dumped the woman to the ground, not caring about the scream as she struck. Lips drawn back in a snarl, he faced the Anaheran guard.
Translate, he snapped, then turned to the human without waiting for a response. “You know nothing, human. Maya is the only reason you still live. You had best show more respect to the Matriarch of the Tangata if you wish to see another day.”
The human lay panting on the ground for a long moment after the Anahera translated his words, gasping, moaning as she struggled with the pain of her leg. Adonis felt no remorse—she was only a human, a plague upon this world, as Maya had said. What need had he to pity such a creature?
“It was obvious…even back in…the Anaheran city.”
For a moment, Adonis did not recognise the words amongst her gasps. When understanding finally dawned, he blinked, shocked at her continued defiance. Did this creature have a death wish? He frowned. Was that what this was about, a way out for her, to make a quick end of her imprisonment?
“She makes you do her dirty work,” the human rasped, “had you capture the fledgeling, has you stand with her at each village. One of their own, mated with a creature of legend. All so they will not question, so you will not realise the truth—she cares nothing for any of your people.”
“She is our Matriarch,” Adonis snarled. “She will lead us to glory.”
“She isn’t even one of you,” Maisie replied.
A growl tore from Adonis’s throat and he fought the desire to haul her from the ground and shake her again. But lying on the snowy ground, unable to stand or even lift herself to a sitting position, Maisie was too pathetic to be worth his effort. Adonis could only shake his head at her wretched figure.
“She will be the mother of my children, of a new generation of Tangata.”
To his surprise, Maisie began to laugh, though lying there in the muddy snow, the sound almost seemed like sobs, might have even been both, given the undoubted agony from her leg.
A growl rumbling from his throat, Adonis advanced on her. “Why do you laugh, human?”
Her eyes snapped up, brown against the pale white of her face. “It’s only, I didn’t realise the Tangata were so gullible,” she replied softly, shaking her head. “After all, what makes you believe the children are your own, Adonis?”
5
The Prisoner
The queen’s cabin was everything Erika’s confinement in the hull of the ship was not. The interior was small, but had been filled with an opulence the queen rarely displayed in public. A golden chandelier dangled from the low ceiling, candles swinging slowly in rhythm to the ships rocking, and several silver-framed paintings had been hung from the walls. Papers decorated a mahogany desk in the corner, the etchings almost unreadable to Erika, and she wondered again at the queen, the secret knowledge she had hidden from the rest of the world.
Erika shivered as her eyes passed over a standing mirror and she saw herself for the first time in weeks. The long blonde hair she had once so prided herself in now hung in a tangled mess, ends split where she had hacked it shorter with a knife. Shadows hung beneath her sapphire eyes, and looking into their depths, she searched for the woman who had set off into the mountains all those weeks ago, determined to save the world.
Dreams of Fury: Descendants of the Fall Book IV Page 4