Widows of the Sun-Moon

by Barbara Ann Wright

  She shook her head. “We have to get out of here. What are the chances that Natalya is out with that army?”

  “She’s not what I’d call a young mind, but I know I sensed her.”

  “Who’s Natalya?” Mamet asked.

  “An old friend of Horace’s. We think she might be… I don’t know. Caught up in this? Anyway, she might help us escape.”

  Horace looked out the window. “I can’t see Nat doing all this, no matter what happened to her. At least, she wouldn’t have before being augmented. She went a little…overzealous at the end.”

  “One way to find out,” Cordelia said. “Can you reach her from here?”

  “Over so many minds and at such a distance?” He shrugged. “Maybe, but finding her is the problem.” He rolled his lips under. “If you go out of your body, I can follow you telepathically, and you can search with me. That might be better than fumbling around with the world’s greatest telepaths nearby.”

  “What if we run into…her? Naos?” Cordelia shivered.

  “We shouldn’t seem any different than any other mind,” Horace said. “If either of us senses her, float like hell back to your body.”

  “Great.” The last few times, that hadn’t been an option, but maybe the Sun-Moon were right, and Naos was distracted.

  “If you reach your friend,” Mamet said, “what are you going to ask her to do?”

  “Leave, if she can manage it,” Cordelia said. “And take Naos with her.”

  Mamet shook her head. “Shouldn’t you ask her to attack? If we know when it’s coming, we can escape.”

  Now they all looked to one another, and Cordelia glanced at Horace. “They’re not listening,” he whispered.

  Cordelia almost laughed, but now seemed like a fine time for whispering.

  “Mamet,” Horace said, “think of all the people in the city—”

  “Some of them deserve to die,” Mamet said, her fists clenched.

  “That might be true,” Cordelia said softly, “but this isn’t our fight on either side. The best thing we could do is figure out how to leave with the least amount of bloodshed, not switch sides.”

  “No matter who wins this fight, it could be bad for us,” Nettle said. “Where might the victors turn their eyes next?” Before Mamet could speak again, Nettle laid a hand on her shoulder. “But when the warriors of this city are next distracted, no matter the cause, you should search for your captive kin.”

  Mamet took a deep breath then nodded, and Cordelia knew the captives had been on her mind since she hadn’t gone looking during the first attack. But then, there’d been a lot of fuckups during the first attack.

  “Ready?” Horace asked.

  Cordelia laid on one of the divans, her head in Nettle’s lap. “Be careful, Sa,” Nettle said, her thin lips gliding across Cordelia’s forehead. “Return to me unharmed.”

  She would have loved to promise, but she could only kiss Nettle’s long fingers, let her eyes fall shut, and slip free of her body.

  Shapes seemed sharper to her astral eyes; the world a little easier to see even at night. Cordelia looked down on the heads of her friends, except for Horace, who stared up.

  “I’m with you,” he said in her mind, his lips unmoving.

  “Right.” She drifted out the window and over the city, not stopping until she was among the campfires of Naos’s army. Even at night, many people wandered to and fro, their camp far enough from the walls that they were in no danger from ballistae or arrows. Small lights burned within tents, and she wondered how many plains dwellers were having sleepless nights, how many wondered what in the hell they were doing here, and how many had seen the destruction and felt fear instead of pride.

  “How are you doing?” Horace asked. “I’m getting hazy pictures from your mind, but I don’t want to dig.”

  “The army’s pretty spread out. Do you sense anything?”

  “Many minds below you. You’ll have to get closer.”

  She headed for the middle of the encampment where a tent stood alone, the others giving it plenty of space.

  “Wait!” Horace called. “There are three minds and two bodies in that tent.”

  Cordelia began to drift back the way she’d come.

  “One of them is Natalya.”

  Cordelia paused, torn. She spotted a glint coming from the tent, a sliver of blue light like the silver one that anchored her to her body, only this one came from the sky.

  “Go!” Horace said. “Go, get out—”

  A flood of white noise drowned him out, and Cordelia felt Naos’s immense presence surround her. “Well, well, well! Fancy meeting you down here!”

  Part of the blue light peeled away and reached out to Cordelia. She hung frozen, just as before, and the light shifted into the ghostly form of a woman, tall and wild-looking and missing her right eye.

  “So you can come see me when I’m aground. Fascinating.”

  “I’m in the city,” Cordelia said, hoping that would gain her something; maybe some fondness on Naos’s part would turn her away.

  “Shame.” Naos drifted around her and gripped the silver cord that led back to Cordelia’s body, twining it around one finger.

  Cordelia groaned as cramps spiked through her. It wasn’t fair to have pain with no body. “Stop,” she gasped.

  “I wonder what would happen if we cut this? Would you float around forever? Do you think that after a hundred years of not being able to touch anyone, you’d beg me to collect you?”

  “Is…is Natalya here?”

  “How do you know her? Are you a people collector, too?”

  “I just want…” She trailed away as another bit of blue light broke off from the strand and curled like a serpent around Naos’s shoulders. It hovered near her ear as if speaking, and she tilted her head, listening.

  With a start, Cordelia realized she could move again. She’d have to go around Naos to get back to her body, so she edged that way, hoping to remain unobtrusive. Naos gestured as if speaking out loud, not paying Cordelia any mind. When she began to fade, Cordelia got ready to flee, but Horace popped back into her mind.

  “Can you hear me?”

  “Yep, and I’m getting the fuck out of here!”

  “Wait! I can’t sense the three minds anymore. Now there are just two.”

  She looked back to the tent; the blue light had dissipated, but it wasn’t gone. “Horace…”

  “When will we get another opportunity? I sensed something like four minds there at the end, but now just two. It…should be safe.”

  Cordelia could hear Fajir in her head calling her a coward. And here she thought that hadn’t bothered her. “All right. I’ll get closer.”

  *

  Natalya rubbed Kora’s back in gentle circles. The goddess had departed her violently, leaving her shuddering on the ground. When she possessed the girl, she often forgot to feed herself, and she definitely forgot to rest. Natalya supposed Naos didn’t have to do either of those things often, but it was Kora who felt their lack.

  Kora’s eyes moved back and forth under her bruised lids. She shuddered in her dreams. Natalya used as much of her micro powers as she dared and tried to ease Kora’s pain, but as she’d thought to herself many times during their journey, she wasn’t a healer.

  “Natalya?” a new voice asked: Horace’s voice, a telepathic message.

  It was a trick, had to be, but Naos wouldn’t know Horace’s voice, wouldn’t have perfected his tone of concern. But of course she could do it. She’d dig it out of Natalya’s own mind. “What is this?”

  “Nat, it’s me. Horace.”

  It did sound like him, and she tried to think of what that might mean, if Naos had gobbled him up and ransacked his brain. “How?”

  “I’m in Celeste. It’s a long story. How are you part of Naos’s army?”

  “Another long story.” If this was a test, it was the most bizarre one yet. “What do you want?”

  “Did you make her leave today? Can you get
her to go away for good?”

  Natalya laughed and heard the edge to it, but she wouldn’t give in to hysterics. Not yet. “Might as well convince a firestorm to die down. I’m in over my head, Horace. She doesn’t listen to anyone. I don’t know why she does anything.”

  “Nat…I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you more. I should have made sure you were all right before I left Gale.”

  That old Horace guilt. She had to admit she’d used it against him a few times, but now it made her chuckle. “It’s not your fault. Simon Lazlo made me like this, and Naos was the only one who could help me.” She sighed. “I want out, Horace, for me and for this girl.”

  “Don’t blame Simon. It was all the Storm Lord’s idea. We all have to get away from anyone who calls him or herself a god.”

  She couldn’t argue with that, at least.

  “Tell me about the girl,” he said. “She’s linked to Naos?”

  “Not completely. There might be a way to separate them, but I don’t have the power.”

  He went silent, and she wondered if he knew how much it bothered her to be powerless. The whole reason she’d taken the augmentation in the first place was to surpass everyone, to always be the person everyone called on, depended on. She’d thought Naos could help her get there, but the price was too damn high.

  “My friends and I might be able to think of something,” he said at last.

  “Are your friends the Sun-Moon? Because she’s going to go after them hard, Horace.”

  “We’ll see what we can do, Nat. I’ll contact you again. It was good to hear your voice.”

  She sensed his genuine feeling and smiled, even though she still found him too sappy for his own good. As the contact faded, she clenched her fists and hoped he wasn’t a trick. Before, she would’ve prayed to the Storm Lord, but now she didn’t know who to turn to. And she had no doubt Horace would be back. At least, he’d try. He’d also promised to help her in Gale and hadn’t been able to see it through.

  Now, though, he had the lives of his friends to consider, and he was always better at keeping his promises when someone besides himself was on the line. As Kora groaned in her sleep, Natalya stroked her hair, more hopeful than she’d been. Now all she had to do was hide her hope from Naos.

  *

  On the balcony, Cordelia lay in Nettle’s arms. They’d begun the evening in bed after Cordelia had returned to her body, but they both missed the feel of the wind and the open sky. She didn’t think Nettle was a fan of wide open spaces, but it seemed any nature was preferable to being trapped in the house of the Sun-Moon.

  Cordelia teetered on the edge of sleep, still freaked out by her brief touch with Naos. Part of her feared having her spirit collected while she wasn’t paying attention. When she heard a creak in the courtyard below, her eyes opened. She paused, waiting, and when the creak came again, she sat up. Nettle woke and slid to her knees without effort to look into the darkened courtyard below.

  “Someone gathers,” she said softly. “Many people, by the sound.”

  Cordelia saw only shadows on top of shadows, but they were on the move, and she thought she spotted the glint of something shiny in the moonlight. A candle flared but was quickly snuffed, and she thought she saw someone in leather armor. Not townsfolk, then.

  “Where are they off to?”

  “Running from the battle?” Nettle asked.

  If that were true, and a bunch of minds were leaving Celeste at once… “Wake the others. Time to go.”

  They woke Horace and Mamet, who blinked at them groggily, but Horace’s quick telepathic scan revealed that it wasn’t deserters below them. In fact, the Sun-Moon seemed to be down there with them.

  “Can you tell what they’re up to?” Cordelia asked.

  He gave her the same look he always did when she asked if he was a match for their power. “I’m not going to try reading their minds or anyone around them, thanks. I don’t want my brains leaking out my ears any more than you do.”

  “We have to find out what they’re doing.”

  “If they’ve left the palace, this is my chance to free my kinsmen,” Mamet said. She looked to Horace. “I’ll come when you call.”

  They agreed and split up. Cordelia, Nettle, and Horace hurried down through the palace, stepping over clumps of sleeping civilians. Once on the ground, they trailed a column of soldiers through the city until they got to the head, trying to stay in the shadows. The Sun-Moon walked toward a gathering of ballistae that sat near a lone torch, just inside the breached gates. Fajir marched at the Sun-Moon’s side, and after a small sigh, she veered toward where Cordelia tried to stay in the dark.

  “You may be able to hide from me,” Fajir called softly, “but not from the Lords.”

  With a shrug, Cordelia marched into the open, Nettle and Horace with her.

  “Before you ask,” the Sun-Moon said, “we’re attacking Naos’s army when she least expects it.”

  “Are—”

  “We’re not insane,” they said.

  “What—”

  “We need to strike while they’re still in disarray.”

  Cordelia clenched her fists. “It’d be nice if you stopped answering the fucking questions before I ask them.”

  Fajir drew her sword, but after a glance at the Sun-Moon, she sheathed it. They had little smiles, and Cordelia reined her temper in, not wanting to give them a moment’s amusement.

  “When you communicated with their camp earlier, we sensed Naos’s distraction.” They nodded at Lisa and Aaron, the companions they’d brought with them from space. “If she stays distracted, the four of us might have a chance to defeat her forces, maybe even kill her host.”

  Horace started to speak, but Cordelia laid a hand on his arm. “So you were listening,” she said.

  “Of course.” Barely a tingle passed over her scalp as they spoke in her mind. “We can be stealthy when we want to.” With a chuckle, they added, “You seem to attract her attention somehow. Do it again, and we’ve got her. The faster we drive her away, the faster you can leave.”

  She didn’t believe they’d just let her leave, but if they were fully embroiled in the conflict…

  Nettle leaned close to her ear. “I will guard your body.”

  Cordelia nodded. “I’ll distract her and retreat. You hit her with everything you have.”

  “She won’t know which way to turn,” the Sun-Moon said.

  Horace leaned up toward Cordelia’s ear. “I promised Nat we’d try to help!”

  “You don’t think hitting Naos hard enough to make her leave everyone alone will help?”

  He sighed. “After the attack starts. I’ll tell Nat to run.”

  *

  Natalya sat outside the tent, gazing up at the star-filled sky. She hadn’t been able to sleep after Horace contacted her, so she’d decided to sit outside rather than risk waking Kora. She wasn’t a telepath, so she couldn’t listen for Horace’s mind, but she kept a micro-psychokinetic link on Kora, hoping she’d get a heads-up if Naos returned.

  A tingle ran along that connection, and she looked into the tent to see Kora sitting up. She’d lit a candle, and before Natalya could speak, she laid a finger against her lips. Her eyes were their normal brown. Kora pulled Natalya in with a telepathic connection, and Natalya heard Kora’s voice speaking in Kora’s own mind. “Goddess, is that you?”

  “I’m not a god and neither is she.”

  It was the other voice, the one Natalya had heard before, but it had never spoken to Kora like this, not with such sureness of itself.

  “I’m learning,” the voice said as if hearing Natalya’s thoughts, too, and maybe she could, being as powerful as the goddess.

  “Yes and no,” the new voice said. “I want to be again. I want to be free, to not need her permission.”

  “The goddess must have her way in all things,” Kora said loyally.

  Natalya frowned, but the new voice laughed. “Poor thing. You really are broken, aren’t you?”

>   Voices lifted through the camp, and Natalya turned back toward the night. Cries of alarm and surprise turned to screams. Natalya got to her feet, trying to see what was happening, trying to feel it; a lot of people were hurt.

  Kora climbed out beside her. “The people think the goddess has turned on them!”

  “You have to stop—”

  Kora put her hands over her ears. “So many people hurt! So many thoughts and voices! They want me to help them. Some want me to kill them, but you said killing is bad!”

  “Get yourself together!”

  “What do I do?” Her power fluttered, as if she wanted to direct it but didn’t know where. “They’re dying forever!”

  Natalya pulled on Kora’s arm. Maybe now they could run, but where? Naos would find them. Where the hell was Horace when she needed him?

  “Goddess, help me!”

  “No!” Natalya cried, but Naos’s arrival scorched the air, and she flailed backward, tripping into the tent and collapsing it. By the time she fought free of it, Kora had gone. “Kora?” People were still screaming, torches bobbing here and there. Kora had taken the candle. “Kora!” She turned toward the tent perimeter. A torch flew high into the air, a bright arc that landed in the long grass and spread its glow as the grass caught fire.

  Natalya picked up her downed tent in a psychokinetic grip and smothered the fire. With a sound of snapping sinew, another tent exploded. She staggered back, thinking someone was using macro powers, but she spotted an enormous spear protruding from the tent’s remains. Something inside it glistened, blood. Someone had been in there.

  She remembered the war machines on top of the walls, but they were too far away to do this. Maybe someone had brought them closer. A new group of torches stood together at the edge of the field, beyond the tents. A group of plains dwellers charged them and were tossed away or immolated by fire. The Sun-Moon had come.

  She looked for them, spotting two people standing close together and staring at the field. As she watched, they grasped their heads and bent double. Her senses told her Naos was attacking them, so she looked again for Kora. Maybe the goddess would be distracted, and Natalya could finally take Kora and flee, but the question of where still remained.