Emily's Saga
Page 132
“That looks terrifying,” Emily whispered to Takeo.
“Careful, they can smell fear,” he whispered back.
She glanced at him, thinking he was telling a joke, but his face said otherwise. She clamped her mouth shut, chucked her temporary home into the cart, and took a few steps back. A part of her wanted to leave, but her interest was too piqued to listen.
“We’ll have to fight those?” she asked.
Takeo had been in the process of leaving when she spoke, so he turned back to stand beside her. He took one look at her and then grabbed her by the wrist.
“Here,” he said and led her to the komainu.
She hesitated, strongly, but Takeo’s confidence was infectious enough that she only took in sharp breaths of protest. As they neared the beast, its massive head swiveled around to inspect them, the lolling tongue flopping to send drool flinging to the ground.
Emily’s feet planted into the dirt a pace away from it when it looked at her. Takeo was beside her, and he gave her wrist another tug, but she didn’t move. The komainu breathed heavy and fast, sending a musty stink of breath at her that filled her nostrils and covered her skin.
“Come on,” he said. “They’ll be closer than this tomorrow, I promise.”
She understood his words and his purpose, but still it took her several moments to swallow her apprehension. They can smell fear, she thought. After a long breath, she stepped forward. Takeo stepped with her.
“There,” he said. “Now, when you’re aiming tomorrow, you’ll find their heads bob as they run, so you won’t be able to shoot their eyes. Well, maybe you can. You’re very good, but if you find it too hard, aim here and here.”
He reached out and pointed into the right side of the komainu’s mane and then beneath its massive head towards its chest.
“Where the neck reaches the shoulder, just behind that spot is weak and bleeds easily,” he said. “And here, just above the chest is an opening in the bones and muscle that leads to the heart. They are small targets, but everywhere else is tough muscle and heavy bone. See them?”
Emily nodded and tried to engrain the areas into her mind. The komainu, panting away as if it had been running for weeks, continued to stare at her in front of its massive face. Then, suddenly, it lashed out and slurped its huge, long tongue straight up her face.
“Ah-ugh!” she cried and fell backwards, komainu slobber dripping from her chin.
A chorus of laughter erupted around her, the soldiers howling as she grimaced and wiped her face. Takeo was trying not to laugh, too, but wasn’t having much luck. She kicked his shin, and he gave her the satisfaction of saying ‘ow’ before helping her back to her feet.
“It likes you!” one the soldiers called out.
Emily’s cheeks were on fire. She knew they were beat red, and that only served to deepen her embarrassment. She and Takeo left quickly to finish their chores for the day.
However, as embarrassed as she was, she had to admit that it beat potato peeling.
The rest of the day went by in a haze, and Emily was parched and tired by the end of it. The army slept under an open sky, save for a single tent, which Emily assumed was for Lord Jiro or maybe his mother. In their short interaction, the youthful shogun had come off as a commander who preferred to share the troubles of those he led, so Emily expected the latter. Fudo was also such a man, and he personally stopped by to tell all those under his command of the heroic deeds they would accomplish the next day. Takeo and Emily were no exception.
“I would wish you luck, Karaoshi,” he said to Takeo, “but I fear to do so would give you too much of an advantage.”
“Your words honor me, sir.”
Fudo turned on Emily and said, “As for you, amazon, just do to Katsu’s men what you did to mine, and I suspect Lord Jiro will demand his own personal amazon guards in the not too distant future.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Sleep came easily, like an old friend that dropped by to see her off. Her eyes closed, her hand clasped in Takeo’s, and she drifted away into another world filled with yellow grass, bright sun, and constant wind. It took only a second to realize she was a colossus again, and that thrilled her to no end. She would have jumped for joy and smiled if her body was present.
Something is different, she realized, peering below. The normally empty, yellow plains were now filled with a crowd. Literally hundreds of people filled her vision, looking up at her, the colossus, with astonished faces and whispering lips. Their quiet murmur was loud enough to be heard over the wind that rushed by Emily’s stone ears, and she was momentarily distracted by the realization that she could hear at all.
The crowd was arranged in a semicircle around herself and the two colossi flanking her, and they were being held back at a distance by a line of knights, perhaps half a colossus’ arm’s length away.
My dream has changed, she thought. I’ve never had one of these dreams change before. There had been people before, but they had always been walking on the path into Lucifan. Now they were beneath her, and she did not know what that meant. The colossus’ head was still lifted from her last dream, and from her new vantage, she could see not only the crowd, but also the surrounding lip of the Great Plains all around Lucifan.
A change in my dream, she thought. What could that mean? Surely, it must be positive.
For months, she had stared at the yellow grass with never a change in sight, and the moment she’d lifted her head everything was different. Takeo had suggested that perhaps this dream was not a message but the messenger, so what hidden value did this change represent? It was a good sign, the first she’d seen, that indicated she was heading in the right direction or at least making some kind of progress.
Think, think, her mind raced. What do I do next? These dreams came and went without her control; she could not afford to waste time on the eve of battle. Death might very well be waiting for her tomorrow, and this colossus could be the key to her salvation. Should she command the colossus to do something else? Or could she control other things in this dream? She focused her attention on the other two colossi. Lift your head, she commanded.
The colossi stayed motionless, and Emily frowned. The answer did not lay there, it seemed. Could the people hear her? She tried to call out to them, but if they heard her voice, they gave no sign. The people continued to watch and mutter while the knights stood at attention. Emily sighed. It seemed only this colossus—the one she had touched nearly a year ago—heard her. Fine then, she thought. Let it be so.
She forced her consciousness into the colossus’ empty mind and filled its massive body with her presence. She found it comforting, despite its hollow feel, and wondered how she could have ever feared these gigantic, moving statues. They were the will and creation of the angels. There was no malice in their stony hearts.
Rise, she commanded, almost casually.
The colossus pushed off against the fist that was pressed into the dirt. The grinding of stone on stone blotted out all other sounds and rung in Emily’s ears like thunder. The great weight of carved, solid rock rose steadily for all to see. Huge plumes of dust, caked onto the colossus’ every surface, shifted and took flight in the wind, and the shadow cast before it spread out along the plains to cover the grassy land.
Beneath her, the crowd broke.
Women and men alike screamed and shrieked as they fell back, scattering across the field like tiny kobolds. They pushed each other over, trampling and climbing over one another in their frantic hurry to run from Emily’s increasing shadow. The knights were no better, breaking ranks to bolt as fast as they could in their heavily plated armor, tossing aside citizens with little regard. Emily balked, unsure of what it was she saw.
I wonder what that means, she thought. Turn, colossus.
The colossus turned, its feet ramming into the ground as it swiveled about to look towards the grand city of Lucifan. A tremor lashed out from its feet, causing the still screaming crowd of hundreds to tremble and fall.
As Emily’s view shifted, she saw more people screaming and running. The path leading into Lucifan, normally clogged with travelers, was now clearing as people ran from the path and away from her. People were in such a hurry that they were leaving their carts, packed with goods and belongings, without a moment’s hesitation.
This doesn’t make any sense. She was utterly confused. What was the message here? She commanded the colossus to look around, not knowing what she would see, but nothing else of interest came into view. Lucifan appeared as it should. The people reacted as they should. Was this really a dream, she wondered?
And then it struck her. What if this isn’t a dream?
But it had to be. The sun was rising. The sun shouldn’t be rising; it should be setting. The sun was setting when she’d gone to sleep . . . in Juatwa. In Juatwa, her mind repeated. In Juatwa! I’m in Lucifan! This is the other side of the world. The sun is setting there, which would make it rising here. This isn’t a dream. That is the same sun. This isn’t a dream!
The realization fell on her like a storm. The screams of the people, the grinding of the stone, and the rush of wind clashed in her head, and had she been standing, she might have fainted. It was all coming together now. It was all so clear. This had never been a dream; it had been a summons. She knew what Quartus had left her, why touching the colossus had blinded her with white light, and what the jinni had sought to steal from her.
She was more powerful than she had ever realized.
Colossus, she commanded, come to me.
The colossus faced due east into the rising sun and began to walk, the ground quaking with every step.
Chapter 25
In the morning, Emily practically beat Takeo awake as she shook him back and forth.
“Takeo!” she yelled. “Wake up!”
“Hm, huh,” he grumbled awake.
A few other soldiers around them, disturbed by Emily’s voice, stirred, too.
“I can control colossi!” she tried to whisper. “I can control a colossus!”
The sleep in Takeo’s eyes disappeared as Emily’s sobering words washed over him. He blinked at her several times.
“Say that again?”
“Control,” she repeated. “They, the colossi, well just one of them—it follows my command. One of the colossi from Lucifan does what I tell it to! Do you remember them?”
The soldiers around them that had awoken rolled over, a few mumbling unintelligible words. One rolled his eyes at Emily and huffed, then snorted before lying back down. Emily was too excited to be embarrassed. She did not care if they thought her crazy.
“Of course I do.” Takeo climbed up onto his elbows and took a few deep breaths. “The big statues, right? The ones outside Lucifan? They can move?”
Emily nodded her head vigorously.
“I was told they used to move,” Takeo said, “but they never moved when I was there. How can you know for certain?”
“I know it sounds crazy.”
“I believe you. Just tell me how you know.”
Emily paused and smiled, then grabbed Takeo’s cheeks in both hands and gave him a hard kiss. Of course he believes me.
“Quartus controlled the colossi when he was alive,” Emily said, “and they stopped moving when he died. When I returned to Lucifan, I touched one, and something happened, like my mind was pulled into it. I must have established a connection with that one, a connection that Quartus’ death destroyed. I started having my dreams after that night, but I didn’t know what they meant. And that jinni in Savara, she tried to take my control over the colossus.
“In my dream, just now, I gave the colossus commands, and it obeyed. It was no dream at all, actually. I realized that after I looked around. The colossus of Lucifan is coming here, to me, because I told it to! I just watched it cross through Lucifan and disappear into the ocean. You should have seen everyone’s faces.”
Takeo crawled up to a seated position and touched a hand to Emily’s arm. He looked around, and Emily did, too, seeing that they were not the only ones awake. A few soldiers were nothing, but Takeo seemed more concerned as more ears were perking. The camp was slowly stirring, but the sun was still hidden, painting shadows of its future glory on the distant sky. The whole army would be awake soon, and Takeo pulled her close to him.
“How long until it arrives?” he asked.
She frowned. “Well, it takes months by ship to reach Savara, at least two more to cross that desert, and then another two to reach Juatwa. So probably not soon enough to see the battle.”
“Hm, that’s a shame. But this changes things, Emily. Do you see that?”
He glanced around again and pulled her closer until his lips brushed against her ear.
“You need to survive this battle,” he whispered. “Even if we lose here, you could still win the war. Now, I know you, so I won’t ask you not to fight, but I want you to consider it.”
“I thought you said we couldn’t leave,” she whispered back, “that Lord Jiro would think us Katsu’s spies if we tried to leave.”
“If I leave,” he corrected her. “You could sneak off if I’m still seen joining the battle. You could escape so long as I’m seen fighting. You could be safe.”
Emily let the words settle, but she knew her response before Takeo had finished speaking. She put a hand to his cheek and turned his ear to her lips, pulling him in until her lips brushed against his lobe.
“If you had wanted me to stay safe while you were in danger,” she whispered, “you never should have kissed me. I will not leave you.”
She ran a hand through his hair, and when her fingers reached the end of those short strands, he took her hand in his. Then he gave her a nod, and she stared into those dark eyes. No more words needed to be spoken. She saw that he took comfort in what she said.
The camp arose to the sound of trumpets playing loud and clear on the cool morning breeze. The brightening sky gave enough glow for everyone to see by. Those who protested or tried to sleep longer were either descended upon by their superiors or assailed by their fellow comrades. Misery loved company, and there was much misery to be had. Weapons were checked, meager meals dispersed, and armor donned. Emily refused to wear anything other than her skirt and vest, but she assisted Takeo in putting on the laminar armor he’d been issued.
It was interesting armor, she decided, something akin to hardened leather with metal sheets and surprisingly light for its durability. Emily could feel the strength of it as she tied the straps around Takeo, covering him from head to toe to in the flexible plates.
“Do you see the weak spots?” he asked.
“I see them.” She nodded, noting the locations of joints and straps where she would aim her bow. “Why didn’t you wear this in Lucifan?”
“I didn’t bring it. It is made for war and nothing else. We were on a ship for almost a year, so I wouldn’t be wearing it then, lest I fall overboard and sink. I didn’t expect to need heavy armor fighting knights and minotaurs when I arrived, either. It is also rather loud, and our work in the city required silence.”
Emily nodded and finished securing Takeo’s armor before making her own preparations for the fight. Her quiver was crammed full with thirty arrows, jammed so tightly that they didn’t even shift as she walked. It should have been comforting, but she felt hopelessly short on ammunition. She’d have to make each shot count and rely heavily on those around her to do the majority of the butchery. No wonder samurai preferred their katanas.
They formed into ranks alongside Gan and the rest of Fudo’s soldiers. The boy they were to guard, the imposter to Lord Jiro’s son, was a young lad with chubby cheeks who would ride atop a komainu. He was dressed in laminar armor, too, though it was covered in fine jewels and gleamed in the sun’s rising glory. Emily guessed him to be no more than eight, perhaps younger, and watched as the youth squealed in terror at being hoisted onto the komainu’s back. Emily wondered how Lord Jiro could have a son that age, but then she remembered that the boy was only a
distraction. By the time Katsu realized this was not Jiro’s son, the battle would already be over.
The sun was piercing the tree tops by the time the army was ready to march, but it was a good deal of time after that before Emily began marching. The plethora of people demanded a grand herding to get moving, and there were so many marching footsteps that the ground was instantly trampled into dust. Any moss or flowers that grew between the trees were ravaged and mercilessly slaughtered in their wake. And the noise, Takeo had been right about the noise. Thousands of soldiers and samurai traveling in laminar armor sent up such a thunder that Emily’s ears rang. It wasn’t as loud as a roc’s screech, but it was close. Emily imagined that every gashadokuro in Juatwa could hear them marching, but even if that was true, it seemed the army was too loud for their tastes, for the marching never stopped.
They trekked through the forest, their careful lines becoming distorted by the trees but still manageable enough to keep a semblance of order. Emily followed Takeo who followed Gan who followed another, and they walked for hours as the sun continued to climb.
The morning’s cool breeze melted away, but the trees provided shelter to the invading army from the baking sun. No matter the level of their destruction, Juatwa was a gracious host, and Emily was thankful for that. Her mood, already dour, didn’t need any help from the weather.
I should have discovered the colossus sooner. From the moment she’d arrived in Lucifan, she could have been commanding all three of the statues, telling them to crush Count Drowin, Heliena, and Katsu under their heavy stone feet. They could have carried her across the sea—no, the sea was too deep for that, but at least they could have followed her. Jabbar, that wicked rakshasa, would never have dared tried to eat her if she’d had a colossus at her back. That jinni, too, would have been running for cover rather than trying to steal Emily’s gift.