by Dekker, Ted
Johnis's jaw clenched, but after a moment he nodded. Silvie's hope sank.
"Allow me to continue," Shaeda said. "Go to the priest and acquire his assistance. You must then take the fruit and go to the Black Forest as I direct you. You first will need to retrieve the amulet from the Shataiki queen."
"How do we do that?"
Shaeda offered him rotten yellow fruit. "The harach offers protection. Retrieve the amulet and perform the ceremony. This will summon the Shataiki to you. Entice him with the harach I've given you. When he eats of it, he shall be yours for four days."
Johnis nodded. "So we use the Shataiki to destroy the Circle and return heroes to Middle. This is how we gain control of the Horde. Then we destroy the Horde."
"This is correct, my Johnis."
And then we find water, and Darsal, and Thomas, Silvie almost added. But that could wait. They could make their own plans once the wench left Johnis.
Shaeda kissed the birthmark behind his ear, caressed his cheek, and let him go. "You will accept, then."
He gave a single nod.
She appraised him, slow to approve, and gave him instructions on how to find the Black Forest.
"You will be unable to see such until the amulet is in your possession," Shaeda warned. "Do not be fooled. The canyon is filled to the brim, a boiling cauldron of Shataiki."
"One more question," Silvie interrupted. "Why us? The bats aren't going to just give it to us."
"The amulet is useless to all but the children of Tanis. I cannot wield it, nor can the queen. Only a chosen human can. Remember these things, children of Tanis: The harach fruit protects the bearer and weakens the will of him who takes such from the bearer's hand. In this manner, he who eats the fruit becomes subject to him who gives the fruit. However, the amulet binds the Shataiki guardian to him who takes such from him, granting power in days of four." To Johnis, "You have my heart and my mind, and you are mine. And you will follow your heart and conquer the Horde. There is your mission, and this ..."
She pointed to the rotten fruit, the yellow harach that curled Silvie's toes even at ten paces.
"This is your path. To waver is to deny yourself my strength."
The mist thickened again. She offered a second fruit. "A gift." She smiled at Silvie. "For the female."
"I want nothing from you."
"Which is better, little female, to die needlessly or live for a cause? You despise the Horde, do you not?"
"You wish me to become Horde."
"You are Horde, little female." Shaeda extended the purple badaii. "This will only take away the pain of the transition and make you whole. Ease the anguish. Do with one bite what would take a week. Or do you wish to be less than your mate?"
Less than Johnis.
Silvie scoffed. This Leedhan could dream on.
"Look, has my fruit harmed your mate at all? No, and already his eyes are bright from the comfort of food. Did not my drink provide you rest?"
She did feel better; her throat no longer parched. Her body felt refreshed after the short slumber.
Shaeda still extended her arm, badaii in her palm.
"It's all right, Silvie," Johnis said. "It's just fruit."
She took it but didn't eat it. The skin was smooth and cool, transparent and almost glowing.
The woman slowly walked away from them, drifting in the fog. She glanced over her shoulder as if being called by someone, then fixed her brilliant eyes on Johnis. "East is to your left, Chosen One. Stay the course. Remember your mission. Do not fail me."
Shaeda gave a musical laugh, retreating into deepening fog and black night. "You will see me again, my handsome Chosen One."
Lightning split the sky, and the earth rumbled beneath their feet. A shot burst through the canyons.
All stilled.
Silvie continued to stare.
"I don't know that I want this."
Johnis turned to her with that wild-eyed, cocky look that usually wound up jeopardizing their lives. "Taste it. It's all right."
"I don't know. Didn't you see the way she reacted to Elyon's name?"
He flinched.
A long moment passed. Silvie could see him struggling with something. He ran his hands through his hair. Puffed out his cheeks. Paced.
Then he seemed to find control.
Purple flecked his eyes.
"Don't I look all right to you?" he asked.
"You look like a throater."
Pause. Johnis's mouth twitched.
Then, "If you don't eat it, I will."
Silvie sighed. "If I eat it, will you tell me what's going on?"
"There's no need to be sassy about it."
"Oh, I'm sassy now?" She raised a brow. "You haven't seen sassy yet, boy."
"Just eat it, Silvie. It'll clear your head."
"I don't know that mine's the one that needs clearing."
They stared each other down.
Shaedas multicolored eyes flooded Silvie's mind. She could see the Leedhan's face. Feel her touch.
There would be no escape.
They belonged to Shaeda now.
"Can you still hear her thoughts?"
Hesitation. Finally he nodded. "Middle," he breathed. Sweat beaded. "We have to go to Middle. But ... eat the fruit. Please."
She drew a breath. "All hail the Leedhan."
Then took a small bite.
The nectar flooded her mouth, sweet and intoxicating. She swallowed hard and felt warmth flood her belly then spread out toward her arms and fingers.
Then it rose and gulped down her mind.
Even as it swept through her she realized that something fundamental had just changed. As the seducer had said, she'd just become wholly Horde.
Reasonable. Encouraging even.
No, something's still wrong ... Do I care?
No more confusion. No more pain.
Shaeda was right. Silvie and Johnis were equal again.
No, she didn't care.
She took another big bite and handed the badaii to Johnis.
He scarfed down the rest and studied the yellow, rotting harach in his hand. "It is by fruit," Johnis murmured, as if repeating something he was hearing. "By fruit do temptations come, by fruit do they fall. Him who takes such as offered subjects himself to the giver, one and all ..."
A chill swept through Silvie. Johnis studied her, barely aware of what he'd said. She cleared her throat. "So, now we find the priest?"
He hesitated. Seemed conflicted. "Yes. Yes, we find the priest. And use him ..." Johnis trailed off as if listening to someone else. "Use him to help us bait the Shataiki. The harach weakens the Shataiki amulet guardian's will, and that allows us to use the amulet to bind their will to ours." His eyes narrowed.
Scorn. Nothing but pure scorn.
Silvie's eyes narrowed. "It doesn't strike you odd that you would actually consider helping the Horde go after Thomas and this Circle of his?"
Johnis thought about it for a moment. More listening. Then, "Well, yes. But Thomas could join the Horde. He doesn't have to hide out in the desert. Right?"
"Talk like that would have sent you into a fit a few days ago. That doesn't bother you?"
Hesitation. Johnis was hiding something.
"Well, yes. I suppose it should. I don't hear you screaming in outrage. You?"
They were discussing the whole matter with hardly an emotion.
Worse, going after Thomas was no longer sounding so horrible.
No, they were after the Horde, not Thomas.
"It's a means to an end," she said, ignoring the slight chill sweeping over her skin. "That doesn't mean I like it, mind you."
"No, me neither."
"But if it's the only way to overthrow the Horde ..."
"Exactly," Johnis said. "And maybe we can find a way to save Thomas and the others. But I do think we have the final solution to the problem of this Circle. And I think Sucrow and Qurong will hand us the keys to their kingdom for it."
Something w
asn't right here. But Silvie was having a hard time remembering what.
She looked at his flaking skin. "I don't trust Shaeda."
"Then trust me. Please, Silvie, do you truly think me a fool?" He smiled. "We're going to follow along, but that doesn't mean we have to do it precisely Shaedas way."
He winced.
She frowned and thought about it.
Leedhan powers.
Shaedas powers.
But maybe Johnis wasn't as taken with the lusty-eyed Leedhan as she'd thought.
Maybe he was using his head after all.
"Well ... The plan could work. I just don't know that I-"
"What's the harm, Silvie? We're using a ruse to destroy the Horde. Besides, I'm not going to turn it over to her. By the time we return to Middle, we should have a plan in mind. What do you say?"
Silvie hesitated.
"I can't do this without you. I can't." Johnis extended his fist. There was more to this than he was saying. Johnis, pleading?
No. The jealousy was getting to Silvie's head. Or the disease. Or both.
"Are you with me?" she asked. Searched his face. His skin was so pale ... his eyes ...
His eyes were round and wide, face lit with excitement and anxiety. "My heart is with you."
"Then follow it."
Another minute passed. Follow your heart. The words echoed. Follow your heart. Such words had been their mantra for a long time now. Thus far it had kept them alive.
Silvie placed her hand on Johnis's. "For Middle."
ohnis's senses were on overload. Before the fruit Shaeda had merely sharpened them a little. But now, now he could likely count the grains of sand if he chose. Everything was purplish-red.
Shaedas eyes ... her intoxicating eyes. He could see through them as before, still hear her siren song in his head. And more. The fruit ... changed everything.
And his feet seemed to have a mind of their own.
Shaedas mind.
As she had drawn him into the desert, now she goaded him toward Middle City. Toward Sucrow, Teeleh's priest.
"You are near Natalga Gap, " her inner voice instructed. "You are not far, my pet .. .
Johnis tried to ignore Shaeda's voice. Silvie still couldn't hear it, and it aggravated her to know Johnis and the Leedhan shared secrets.
But how much did the Leedhan know? Did she know his plans to use her power for his own devices? Could she read his thoughts or only implant her own?
A gentle, musical laugh. Invisible talons tickled his neck. His mind's eye saw only the alluring eyes, the seductive smile ...
"Can you hear me?" he asked. Silvie glanced at him. It was strange, but important. He had to know how this worked. What to expect.
"I hear much, my johnis. "
The slithering presence seeped into his mind. Johnis saw a thousand Leedhan, male and female, on the far side of the River. He saw them engaged in fierce battle with a throng of Shataiki. Felt someone strike him down. Felt his limbs torn and hot blood seep from the wound. Knew-
The vision stopped abruptly. A low growl of disapproval.
Shaeda?
"What happened?" he asked. "Tell me. At least explain it."
The talons dug into his spine and tore. Johnis doubled over, knees buckling. He saw nothing but multicolored eyes. Smelled the sweet scent of Leedhan. Heard the siren song.
"Johnis?" Silvie grabbed his arm, but he pushed her away. She stared for a minute, then backed off. She smelled of anger and fear.
Another vision. Johnis saw an enormous male Shataiki, a queen's rank. The Shataiki was Derias, Shataiki guardian of the amulet.
A coppery taste flooded his mouth. He hated Derias.
No, Shaeda hated Derias.
Same difference.
"Do you see now, my johnis?"
Yes. I see why you hate the Shataiki. But what does this have to do with conquering the Horde?
"Johnis." Silvie's voice shut off the image. He shook his head. He was on his knees, palms flat on the ground.
"Shaeda," he whispered. "Shaeda, come back. Explain the rest. Tell me."
But Shaeda was quiet.
Why did Silvie always seem to silence Shaeda?
Silvie said his name again. Shaedas will was so strong. But he couldn't ignore Silvie.
"I saw ... I saw into Shaedas mind. Her memories ... I saw ... She hates Shataiki, Silvie. Hates them. And she wants to control them. She's angry, very angry."
"You can read her mind?"
"Not all the time, I don't think." Johnis shook his head. "Sometimes."
"Rely on me, my johnis. You must learn to trust in my power."
Shaedas power.
Johnis licked his lips. He'd had a taste of it. His mind fantasized what the full measure of her might could do. Heady, really.
She chuckled. "Trust me, my johnis. You will see, in time ... "
"See what?" he asked.
"I didn't say ..." Understanding came into Silvie's eyes. "Are you two going to continue these private conversations?"
He shook his head. Shaeda prodded him along. "We have to get to the priest."
MARAK LED DARSAL THROUGH THE STREETS, TURNED down an alleyway, and came upon a single-story house that was larger than the ones around it but mostly plain to look at.
"This is home. Per our arrangement." He hesitated, almost unwilling to say whatever it was he intended to next. "There's a spare room with a mat you can sleep on."
"A mat." She crossed her arms as best she could with the chains. "Am I your pet dog now?"
Love him, Darsal.
Right now she wasn't sure how, much less why. He was a brute. Uncouth and cold to the touch. And he smelled.
"Just tend the horse." He reached for her neck.
Darsal struck him in the chest on instinct.
Marak took a step back and absorbed the blow. His expression was both frustrated and surprised. "You want to wear the tether all night?"
"You went for my neck. What was I supposed to do?" Her instinct, her head, said to snatch out one of his knives and run him through. Her heart said that he hadn't meant anything and that she'd overreacted. And a third part of her said she hadn't overreacted but she could still get away without killing him.
Maybe Elyon himself had gone loony.
She could almost hear him laughing at that one.
Marak gave an exasperated sigh. "Just hold still." He removed her tether and shoved the lead to his horse in her hand. "Come in the kitchen when you're done."
"You want me to tend the horse?" From Forest Guard to Shataiki killer to traitor to mucking horse stalls. Although it was a step up from Alucard. As if that took much.
Marak stopped and turned around. His gaze lingered longer than necessary, studying her with an expression she couldn't read.
"You've made your agreement."
"To serve you, not the horse."
"My experience is that albinos rarely break their word." His voice was hard, edgy. Tense. "Don't disappoint me." With that, he went into the house.
Darsal started to protest, but he was already inside. She scowled. Maybe this was a bad idea. The horse reeked. Marak reeked.
He'd left her alone.
She could escape now, easily, without ever touching him.
But ... but her fool's errand, her mission ...
Elyon, what do you mean? How do I love a mongrel? He's rotten through, as good as dead already.
But the resounding, soft voice continued. "So were you. "
There was no winning that one.
"For you, then," she grumbled. "For Johnis. Wherever the lunatic and his lunatic girlfriend are."
She went around back and unsaddled the Scab warhorse, rubbed him down-a disgusting, smelly task. She fed and watered the animal then entered into the living room from the back door, bracing herself for a fresh dose of spoiling Horde stench.
The inside was clean and smelled of dinner. Marak had drawn the curtains and lit a few candles and a standing torch.
&n
bsp; Darsal rounded the corner into the living room and didn't see him. A couple of chairs, a low table, and a couch. Five candlestands and the torch. To her left was a small, round kitchen table big enough for two, maybe three people.
To her right was a narrow hallway.
What was in the rest of the great Horde general's house? No harm in looking. Know thy enemy, right?
Love thy enemy.
She remembered the line from somewhere but couldn't place it. The other Earth, somewhere. Not Alucard.
Darsal entered the hall and found three doors on the left, one on the right. The hall was a dead end.
The first room was a study. Qurong's general liked to read. The room was full of books and scrolls. A small writing desk lay half-buried under a mound of paper, and several candles had gone to a waxy grave.
Darsal looked in the second room. Bathroom. Nothing special.
The third was a storage room. She approached the fourth with some care. It was farthest from the door and on the far right end of the hall.
She turned the handle slowly.
Yes, this was the great general's bedroom.
Darsal remained in the doorway, taking it in. A small bay window, curtains drawn. A single candle on a stand right beside his bed. Two trunks: one red, one brown.
A worn journal lay on the bed, open.
Thinking maybe it was battle plans, Darsal ducked inside.
If she made it to Thomas, to the others, she could ...
Her hand touched the leather.
The cover had an inscription in neat, flowery handwriting. A woman's. Curious. She flipped it open. Definitely not battle plans. She started to read.
"Dear Marak, we've been in hiding two months now. Forgive the long secrecy, but you understand how it is. We parted ways so angry, so hurt . . . Jordan's been good to me, but I fear too much is left unsaid. So listen to me, love ... "
A hand grabbed her by the wrist and spun her around.
Her head slammed on wood paneling.
Darsal wrapped her hands around Marak's wrist and squeezed until he released her. He swore. She went into a defensive posture.
The general shoved past her and slammed the journal shut. Picked it up and studied it for a long time. Then set it on a bookcase.
Darsal was between him and the door, but experience fighting with and against Silvie taught her well the meaning of knives in thigh sheathes.