“A healer?” the lead man said. His blue eyes were bloodshot above his blond beard. He licked his lips, twitched as if barely in control of himself. “I am Chafa Onin, and if you are truly healers, please, please help us.”
Chapter Five
Natalya stared while Kora sat cross-legged under the smoke hole in the small tent. What was left of the girl, the real girl, only came out when Naos didn’t have hold of her, and that was rare indeed.
Natalya cocked her head. She thought she’d be happy now that Naos wasn’t trying to possess her anymore, but Kora’s transformation still unnerved her, and against her better judgement she felt sorry for the person Kora might have been. But what was happening now might have been better than whatever her kidnappers had planned. And she seemed to have gotten over her grief for the loss of her people, her family. Now she had new memories of growing up with Naos and Natalya, and Natalya wondered if she remembered her old life at all.
Kora sighed as if reading Natalya’s mind, and Natalya supposed she might be, that or Naos was. When one of them was paying attention to her surroundings, there was a clear difference between girl and goddess, so when Kora opened her eyes and smiled slowly and cruelly, Natalya had no doubt who was looking out.
“Talking with one of your old friends?” Natalya asked, knowing Naos often explored Calamity with her roving telepathy.
“Just keeping an eye on them.”
“Are you going to let the girl out today?”
Naos gave her a cold look. “She’s perfectly happy, you know. She likes it when we’re together, unlike some people.” When Natalya looked away, Naos sighed. “If you won’t either fight with me or fall to your knees and worship me, I’m going to get bored with you.”
Natalya swallowed hard. “I think you should give her some time to herself.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, fine. I don’t want to talk to you anyway.” Kora’s eyelids fluttered, and she fell back as Naos’s presence withdrew.
Natalya grabbed her shoulders and hauled her upright again. “You all right?”
“Every time she leaves, it’s so cold.”
“Here, put a blanket around your shoulders.”
“We were in the park watching the space elevator haul people up to the ships.” Her brow wrinkled, her gaze far away. “I said I wanted to be a pilot, and my father smiled, but my brother laughed at me.”
“Those are her memories, not yours. We don’t have anything like that here.” She frowned. “So, she stashes you in her own mind when she uses your body?” It had to feel like being trapped in the suffocating swamp.
“If those are her memories, what happened to mine?”
Natalya shrugged. “We found you on the plains. That’s all I know.”
Kora stared into the middle distance again. “My mother had a necklace made of bones.”
“Hmm.” That sounded like something Naos would say, but Natalya couldn’t be sure. “Maybe you should sleep. Or are you hungry?” She could never tell what people needed. Maybe she should have never left Gale, should have gone happily mad instead. Maybe Horace would have found a way to fix her as he’d promised. Maybe he was back in Gale right now with a way to solve all her problems. If she ever saw him again, she probably owed him an apology for the way they’d left things, but he’d understand. He always did.
“I feel as if I’ve been asleep for years.” Kora stood and wrapped the blanket tighter around the leather shirt and trousers the plains dwellers had given her. She slipped on soft shoes and stepped outside.
Natalya looked out behind her. A group of young people were practicing fighting some ways off, hitting one another with long bone staves that clattered in the stillness of the plains. As strangers, she and Kora had been given a tent far from the others, but when the youngsters saw Kora and Natalya watching, they moved a little closer, sneaking glances.
Natalya was tempted to tell them to go away. She’d claimed Kora as her daughter since that made things easier and said she’d rescued the children after the rest of the Miri had been slaughtered. Natalya supposed the children might still have relatives elsewhere, but she didn’t mention that, and with Naos’s help, the children thought of themselves as orphans, too.
“They’re using bones,” Kora said. “Bones instead of wood.”
As if the child had ever seen a wooden staff. Trees were too scarce on the plains. She had to be drawing on Naos’s memories again. “Do you remember the geavers? Large animals, long necks? Your people use them as pack animals. You make weapons from their bones, clothing from their hide, and use their dung for fires.”
“I wonder if they’ll let me try.”
Natalya climbed out of the tent. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
Kora flashed a smile of such confidence, it had to be a bit Naos.
Natalya let her power linger over Kora as she walked to join the youngsters. They clustered around her, curious, and when she asked to try the fighting, Natalya read every reaction from pride to anger and curiosity to nervousness. Young people were always balls of hormones.
From the way some of them nudged one another, Natalya thought they were laughing at the clumsy way Kora held the bone staff. Some felt pity while others seemed as if they would take enjoyment in thrashing someone new.
Natalya moved closer. Kora still had pieces of Naos inside her even if she wasn’t being possessed. With all the work Naos had done on her, the two were linked, probably permanently, and as such Kora could use Naos’s power. When Kora looked to her, Natalya nodded toward one boy who seemed particularly anxious to knock the new girl down.
Kora nodded and asked the boy to practice. With a smile more like a leer, he agreed. “Be with me?” Kora asked in Natalya’s mind.
Before Natalya could respond, Kora pulled her along as Naos would, though with a far gentler hand, a link that could be broken if Natalya fought, but she went along, curious. She shut her own eyes and looked out from Kora’s. The boy took a ready, practiced stance, and Kora let her prophetic powers play out.
Natalya gasped. Naos had never shown her this. She saw the field from above. The boy swung at Kora’s shoulder, and Kora read in his mind that he thought it’d be an easy hit.
Kora’s focus snapped to the present, and she avoided the boy’s strike. His anger spiked, and Natalya laughed. Kora kept traveling milliseconds into the future and then snapping back to the present, reading the boy’s mind and moving to avoid him. When she foresaw a move that would leave him vulnerable, she whapped him hard with the staff, getting in three hits before he could back away.
Kora released Natalya to her own body, and she clapped.
The boy glared. “You said you didn’t know how!”
“I’m a fast learner,” Kora said.
“That’s a load of geaver shit. You cheated!”
“Watch your mouth,” Natalya said.
They glanced at her, Kora with a smile. “I love that you want to protect me,” Kora thought.
Natalya smiled back, though she didn’t know why.
“It wasn’t cheating,” Kora said. “The goddess told me what you were going to do. For the faithful, the goddess has many gifts.”
“You’re not talking about the One-Eye?” one of the youngsters asked. “That’s a story for oldsters.”
Kora held the staff out and let go. The long length of bone hovered in the air until she grasped it again. “When the goddess chooses you, she’s realer than anything.”
They gawked, and one of the girls stepped forward. “My mother said one of the old women used to worship the One-Eye.”
Kora’s opponent shook his head. “She died a long time ago.” He had one foot back but leaned forward at the same time as if torn between standing his ground and running away. “Why haven’t we heard from anyone else if this goddess is so real?”
“Because the time wasn’t right before,” Kora said. “And if you’re speaking of Clauda, she is with the goddess still, only in a different form.”
&nb
sp; The youngsters looked to one another. “How did you know her name?” one asked.
Kora waved a hand. “The goddess knows all.”
Natalya resisted the urge to scoff. When a person could read minds, it was easy to know everything. People hid things in their minds that they weren’t even aware of. And who was this old woman Naos had contacted before? Had she tried this whole scheme in the past?
“She wants you to join her and gain power as I did,” Kora said.
“Why does she want us?” one asked.
“Because you’re worthy.”
They seemed to like the sound of that, particularly the bully. Kora held up her staff. “Who’s ready to learn?”
All through the day, the members of the Nevan clan clustered around Kora, watching her fight or listening to stories of Naos’s glory. Natalya watched from the edge of the crowd, wondering what Naos was up to now. She had no doubt this was part of some plan. The Nevan seemed to grow more enamored of Kora as the day grew on, and maybe that was mind-tampering, maybe not.
Only one person seemed to regret the decision to let her stay. Chafa Lanet, leader of the clan, watched Kora with a frown that occasionally deepened into a look of such disgust, it made Natalya nervous. If he snuck up on Kora when she wasn’t paying attention, he might be able to wound or kill her. She wasn’t safe up in space, unlike the goddess. When Lanet spat out the blade of grass he’d been chewing and took a step in Kora’s direction, Natalya moved to intercept him. He turned a suspicious look on her, and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a nonchalance born of confidence in her own abilities.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
He gestured at where Kora stood surrounded by admirers. “Soon she’ll have everyone changing their name from the Nevan to the One-Eyes. We don’t want any of your tricks.”
“It’s power, not trickery.”
He jabbed a finger at her. “Control your daughter, or I’ll see you both ridden down.”
“Challenge her if you like, or challenge me. See where it gets you.”
He sneered. “If a little blood will get you gone, so be it.”
Natalya gathered her power, but Kora said, “Wait,” in her mind.
“Chafa Lanet,” Kora called aloud. “Is there something you’d like to say to me?”
He marched toward her, drawing his knife. “I’ll prove your powers a trick, and then your false goddess—”
Kora’s power flexed, and Lanet’s head popped free of his neck, leaving an oozing stump. The body toppled, though the head stayed aloft for several seconds. People screamed or shouted, their eyes wide. Lanet’s head dropped as Kora released it.
“Like a champagne cork,” Kora said as she marched over.
“A what?” Natalya asked, not believing her own eyes. She knew what Naos could do, but she didn’t expect Kora to…
Unless. She glanced up, but it was still Kora’s face, not Naos’s. Power flowed from Kora again, and the panic of the Nevan faded as she comforted them.
“He’s dead,” Kora said wonderingly. “I never thought it would be so easy.” She nudged Lanet’s body with her foot. “And dead is forever, right?” With another swallow, Natalya nodded. Kora cocked her head. “Why do you look so sad? Is everyone sad?” Kora turned to the plains dwellers. Slowly, they all bowed their heads, and when Kora looked back, her face was all Naos. “I guess the rest want to keep their heads.”
“Did you do that?” Natalya whispered. “Did you make her do that?”
Naos frowned. “Some people do things because they like me, you know.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “And now I have a lot more. If it makes you feel better, Kora wanted to be friends with the chafa, but she didn’t like that he threatened you and me.” She sighed dramatically. “I guess what they say is true, jealousy makes a person lose their head.” She brayed a laugh.
Natalya looked to the bowing plains dwellers. “So now you’re gathering worshipers? Or are you building an army?”
Naos gave her a dazzling smile. “You never know what you might need. I’d forgotten how intoxicating worshipers could be, and I can’t help thinking what it would be like to be the only one that has them.”
That night, Natalya sat alone in the tent, looking out the open door, waiting for Kora. When she came in, bright and bubbly, Natalya turned away. She kept seeing the headless chafa, and she couldn’t make that image match with this effervescent child.
“What’s wrong?” Kora asked.
“Nothing.”
“That’s a fib, and fibbing’s not right.”
Natalya sighed. “And who taught you that?”
“Everyone knows that.” She flopped down in front of Natalya, squeezing against the side of the tent so she could see Natalya’s face. “You don’t like what happened to the chafa. He shouldn’t have said he’d hurt you.”
“I could have stopped him, Kora. You don’t need to take care of me.”
Her head cocked. “But you think you need to take care of me, and I’m more powerful than you are.”
True, and that still didn’t make everything that had happened to her right or justified. “You shouldn’t have to worry about even thinking about killing people. You should only be worried about toys or other kids pulling your hair. Parents that won’t give you sweets, that sort of thing.”
She frowned at the tent floor. “I don’t like that killing is forever. I can’t feel the chafa’s mind anymore. It’s as if there’s a hole.”
Natalya grabbed her hands, feeling as if she had to say something, try something. “Don’t kill anyone again! Make her do it if it’s got to be done.”
“Make her?”
Like making a mountain do anything. “Ask her, then! She…she enjoys it!” Maybe not the best advice, but it would help keep a few stains off Kora’s soul.
“Would that make you happy?”
That hurt her, though she couldn’t quite say why. “Yes.”
The bright smile came back. “Okay! If the goddess wants holes, she’ll make them.”
And if she put it like that, maybe Naos would be amused enough to not resent it. Natalya could only hope. And a promise not to slaughter people wasn’t much, but it felt like a step in the right direction.
Chapter Six
The sun was warm on Cordelia’s shoulders as she rolled rocks into what would be the newest of Pool’s little ponds. The giant Anushi tree had dug out various swimming and watering holes—the drushka dried out without large amounts of water—and the tree could have moved these rocks, too, but Cordelia liked the activity. Good for the muscles and good for the heart. She sometimes feared she’d get soft sitting out in the plains with little to do. Wuran’s fighting parties were too few and far between.
Sitting under the shade of a lean-to, Liam didn’t seem to have the same concerns. He watched her work with a little smile on his face as if he knew she was doing it partly because she couldn’t stand sitting still.
“You could help,” she said.
“Why rob you of your fun?” He stretched and leaned back, resting his head on a bedroll. Pool created little cubbies in her bark for her people to sleep in, and many humans stayed with them, but others preferred some time on the ground. “If you said we’re finally going to pay back the Storm Lord, I’d be up before anyone else.”
She sighed. His stumping for revenge had been louder ever since Pool’s scouts had spotted a Galean spy watching them from afar the day before. But the Storm Lord still had weapons and forces, powered armor, and a fight with him would have meant a fight with other Galeans, something she’d never done. And she didn’t want to drag the drushka into it, either. She didn’t know how many of them would volunteer, but Nettle and Reach would certainly go, and they were too important to her. “I’m not having this argument with you again unless you pick up a shovel.”
He rolled out from under the shade and marched toward her, grabbing a wooden shovel and levering rocks at her side. “Let’s dance.”
&nbs
p; She coughed a laugh. “I didn’t think you’d do it. I’m unprepared.”
“Why’d we stop so close to Gale if you didn’t want to march on him one day? And if he’s watching us, he’s planning something.”
“You do realize the Storm Lord isn’t sitting there alone. You’d have to fight the believers to get to him. Brown. Lea.”
He shook his head. “After we tell them—”
“We told them already, Liam. If they didn’t believe us before, they’re not going to change their minds now. They’ll figure him out in time.”
“So, you’re saying they need rescuing?”
“At the end of a truncheon? Or did you forget that those are the only weapons we have?”
He pointed at her. “Ah ha! We also have slings. And the drushka have weapons.”
“So now we’ve got the drushka attacking Gale. Even if people don’t side with the Storm Lord, they’ll side with their own kind against a bunch of aliens.”
He threw down his shovel and walked in a wide circle, putting his arms up, palms resting on top of his head. “He is planning something! How can you sit still knowing that?”
“You’re not sitting still. You’re helping me.” She kicked the shovel in his direction.
With a grumble, he picked it up.
“If he is planning something, he’ll have to come out here. Then we can punch it out, and civilians won’t get hurt.”
“Brown and Lea will still be with him.”
“If we take him out, they might fall in line.”
“And the rest of the true believers?”
She shrugged. “I guess we’ll figure it out when it happens.”
“When we’re old and gray, maybe.”
“Speaking of,” she said loudly, “did you know that Nettle is seventy and Shiv is fourteen?”
She expected him to gawk, but he only stared before nodding. “So?”
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