There had been nothing where the great cities had once stood. Tonight's flight had to yield something different. They could not be alone. Their people, their friends, their cadre, they could not be gone. They couldn't. They weren't.
A dull pain ached within his chest, crushing his breaths. If they had died, they would have faced Elonumato's judgment. They would be remembered for their part in the Tue-Rah's fall. And not in a good way. Elonumato had not believed them when they had warned him of the coming destruction. Of the countless enemies who sought to subjugate and destroy. Obliteration was their fate if that had been the case.
He dared not mention it to WroOth though. His brother walked as thin a blade of sanity as AaQar, just in a different way.
When AaQar returned from his time in the suphrite, Naatos kept his word and slept. Or rather he lay on his side in the trench, his arms folded over his chest and his eyes half-shaded. Amelia continued to work between the smokehouse, the butchering spot, and the firepit. She'd wrapped herself in a cold focus, which was for the best. This was not the time for vestoving, and she offered no temptation beyond her presence.
Even the hug had surprisingly not been sexual. It had simply comforted. It had been… good. Whatever possessed her to take such a step he could not say. Had there been more time, he would have lingered.
There wasn't time though.
He kept his thoughts withdrawn and shrank his mood as much as possible. She wasn't the most advanced of mindreaders, but she had either been quite lucky in determining what truly bothered him or she had good intuition or she really had felt the different layers and realized the truth. Killoth had mentioned many times that it was like being in the room with someone who didn't realize just how loud their voice was. Effective for negotiations, less pleasant for quiet conversation.
Thankfully Killoth had been the sort of friend who had been willing to work with him and who didn't mind someone who had too loud a presence.
His stomach clenched though at that memory. Killoth had been a good friend but a dreadful father. He was responsible for Naatos's first vow to kill Amelia. Not that he had actually made the vow. But Killoth wouldn't see it that way. He'd told Killoth he would handle the situation with Amelia. That was all. No promises of killing her. And Killoth had been so distracted he had not pressed for specifics. An unusual response.
No. Hard as it was to lose any friend, Killoth was not one he wanted to encounter again. Especially not with Amelia.
But that was unlikely. His mind twisted through the faces of their cadre. They flicked through his mind in an instant before repeating. Between Khanaan and Hatet, he had little doubt that if there had been a way out, a solution of some sort, they would have found it and taken it. Any pair of them could withstand armies. Had withstood armies. With all thirteen together, even with their spouses and children, they could have found a way. So long as they had not died.
But then there was the case of the missing cities. Of the missing people.
Khanaan might have found the wherewithal to shroud the cadre in some secure place even if it meant leaving others behind. The twins weren't even ten years of age when they had left. Ngi Kinot, Miako, and Okianto might be counted on for that as well. But if Hatet knew that their people were dying, she would whip the rest up into a frenzy. Send the non-warriors and children to safety and then fight. Fight! A fight which ordinarily he would have been more than happy to participate in.
They would find out what happened and conclude whether they needed to adapt their strategy to prevent Ecekom from enduring this fate. It would work.
That dull ache within his chest expanded though his eyes remained dry.
He would not weep. He would waste neither time nor strength.
There were many possibilities, but none of them mattered much. They could not be dead. But they might be elsewhere, and if merely choosing to believe and willing it to be so, then all would be alive.
Sleep slid over him at some point, deep and dreamless. The next thing he heard was Amelia uttering a sharp cry and QueQoa grunting with pain. He sprang up.
Amelia knelt beside QueQoa, her hand to his good shoulder as she tried to help him to his feet. But QueQoa's knee had twisted, badly. The great log he had been moving lay beside him and he partially rested in a deep groove of mud as if the ground had simply given way. Red streaks ran up his neck like angry fingers, and the rash had spread across his throat. The mottling in his face could just have easily been from pain, but he knew better.
It took only a moment to reach QueQoa's side. He put his arm beneath his brother's and lifted him. The weight usually offered no difficulty, but with the ilzinium working in him as well, he grunted with the effort. QueQoa's three hundred-and-eighty odd pound frame pressed hard against him.
Amelia slid in beneath QueQoa's other arm. "Where are we taking him? To the river?" The weight lightened.
Naatos shook his head. She really was stronger than she looked. "To his sleeping trench."
Eyes glassy with pain, QueQoa tried to gain traction with his good foot. "I just slipped. I'm fine."
"You will be," Naatos grunted. "All you need is rest." Fever burned through QueQoa already. The uncertainty of that statement soured within him. Rest, yes. But more than that. The fight before his brother was not one they could help with much at all. If the infection worsened, they would carry him to the river, lance the abscess again, and clean it. "When did you last eat?"
"I can't take more. Just give me a moment."
AaQar knelt beside QueQoa. Naatos hadn't even seen him arrive he moved so quietly. "You're going to sleep soon, but let's fix this knee before you do." He had scarcely finished the statement before twisting QueQoa's knee back into place.
QueQoa uttered a garbled mass of syllables, likely some curse as his face went purple-red. But he slumped back within seconds, gulping down great mouthfuls of air.
Amelia offered him water. He took it gratefully. Sweat beaded his forehead and rolled down his neck. His breathing eased though his eyes remained glassy.
"What happened?" Naatos demanded.
"Just carrying that," QueQoa said, the rhythm of his words uneven. "And it slipped. I slipped." He reached for his knee. Naatos pressed him back.
"Rest. It's all you can do now."
QueQoa set his jaw, his breaths tight. "All dreams end. The cruel as well."
Naatos placed his hand near the wound, noting its heat and size. "They do. And you are strong enough. You will overcome."
Wood clattered at the edge of the clearing. Even without looking, Naatos knew WroOth had returned. His younger brother approached them, his voice tight. "Already? It's too soon."
Naatos grabbed hold of his arm before he could reach QueQoa. "Not now."
QueQoa's eyes had already slid shut.
"He needs sleep at the moment." AaQar adjusted the thin pillow beneath QueQoa's head so that it provided a little more support. "We'll watch the abscess. But the purging is starting."
WroOth set his jaw, the muscles tightening through his neck.
Naatos guided him back, his own caution rising. "He will overcome this, WroOth. He's strong."
"He pushed me out of the way while I was trying to take off one of the cabiza's claws; it didn't break as it should have. The bone and joint were far stronger, and my momentum was insufficient to make it clean," WroOth said, his voice strained. "That's why he was bit. I erred, he intervened, he paid."
"You would have done the same for him. You have done the same for him." Naatos hated the way that the light was fading in WroOth's eyes. Loss was not something he handled well. Especially not now. He snapped his fingers near WroOth's ear. "WroOth."
His brother looked at him, but he wasn't focusing. Naatos continued. "You did all you could. You would have done the same for him. Had you known that they were stronger and more deadly with their venom, you would have changed your attack. But you didn't. So stop. Go eat. Drink. Gather what you can. And finish doing what you can to prepare."
WroOth mana
ged a tight nod.
Naatos took in his family at a glance. QueQoa trembled and shook in the trench, the blanket tucked over him as securely as possible. The ravages of the infection worked through him along with the ilzinium.
AaQar had gone back to favoring his left side, moving with less grace and less coordination. His pallor had increased as well except for the flecks of dried blood at his nose and mouth. He wasn't breathing quite so deeply either. Madness glinted in WroOth's eyes, a mask for the terror that festered within.
And Amelia. Tenacious as she was, their suffering and illness already burdened her. The heavy bags beneath her eyes alone spoke of her exhaustion. An exhaustion that was only going to worsen in these coming days. She continued to move between the fire and the salting pit, but her movements were much slower now as well.
AaQar had perhaps another day. WroOth would fall soon after. And as for him, he had the rash along the back of his neck and the burn in his lungs. He might still make it without falling into the nightmare of ilzinium purging. But having a cure would be better than relying on that.
There were two more places he might visit where help might be found. It was a fool's chance. Better than nothing though.
He started toward the edge of the clearing when WroOth grabbed his arm. His brother continued to stare at QueQoa as he spoke low. "Don't leave."
"There's a chance."
"There's no chance. There's no point to this. Don't leave."
"WroOth," AaQar said. He had adopted that old tone, the paternal one he had used when trying to soothe his little brothers and had a headache coming on. "Let him be. He's going. And the sooner he goes, the sooner he will return."
WroOth tightened his grip on Naatos's arm. "Don't. Leave."
Naatos's muscles tensed. The last thing he wanted was to have to kuvaste his brother now. But if he had to—
"WroOth," Amelia called from the other side of the fire. "I need a favor."
WroOth's grip tightened, then loosened as he shot her a glare. "What could you possibly need right now?"
She lifted her shoulders. "It's important. But I'm not going to shout it."
WroOth gave Naatos another fierce look, the terror bright even behind the mask he was trying to keep up. "Make sure you come back."
"I will be back before dawn," Naatos responded.
WroOth muttered something unintelligible as he stalked away. He flung his arms up in the air as he circled the fire toward Amelia. "What? What do you need?"
Amelia opened her mouth to answer, but he cut her off.
"No. You're going to do something for me first."
Naatos watched a moment longer, surprised but pleased. Amelia wasn't even flinching at WroOth's more erratic behavior now. She just observed him with half-lifted eyebrows and an otherwise neutral expression, her arms folded over her chest.
It was unlikely there was something she actually needed. So had she done that to get rid of him or to help? She was making it a point not to look at him. But she had helped him nonetheless. Perhaps she even understood why he had to leave.
Of course she would though. If anyone understood small chances, impossible odds, and fool hopes, it was her.
AaQar approached him, his steps silent. "Don't tarry, but if you can find grey trillium or willow bark, there has been none of that here. It would help to have it for this."
"I'll see what I can find." He scowled. That was unusual. Though in his own foraging, he had noticed that there was less than the usual variety of plants. It had taken longer than he intended to find the herbs he gathered for Amelia. "Your searches here haven't turned up enough or none at all?"
"There's precious little compared to what there used to be. Some of the plants are similar, but I don't want to risk them being too different." AaQar released a strained sigh. "This world has changed in more ways than should be possible for the time allowed. Someone has been interfering. That venom in QueQoa's shoulder is like an enhanced manticore venom. Some of the damage may be permanent even if all else goes as it should."
"Manticores in the wild and crossbred with cabizas is a problem on many levels." Naatos returned his gaze to WroOth. His brother had his arm wrapped possessively around her and had just said something about a "sikalt of a brother" in a voice far too loud to be accidental. "Keep an eye on them. Make sure he doesn't hogtie her and put her in a pit some place to protect her."
"He's getting very strained."
"I've noticed."
"She's good for him though. Good for this family in general. We're going to pull through. You'll see. Now go. The sun is about to set."
Naatos picked up an empty sack and draped it over his shoulder along with his opi pack. He spared one more look at his veskaro, his heart beating faster in response and his heat rising. Despite the worry and concern, that small sliver of pride for her along with that glimmer of hope expanded. Perhaps things would be better than he feared after all.
24
A Choice
The shards of WroOth's mind reached Amelia with almost violent energy. It wasn't just a deluge of awareness above her brow or a puff of energy. It was a cutting swell, moving out from him in a broad wave with multiple points.
She stood, wiping her hands on the ragged dress. Naatos too appeared strained though his expression gave no clues. It was a granite mask of focus with only the narrowest furrowing of his brow and a slightly milder scowl. But he wanted to go. Needed to go. "WroOth." She waited until he looked at her.
WroOth's turquoise eyes glinted with anger. "What could you possibly need right now?"
She shrugged lightly though that turmoil concerned her. "It's important," she said, keeping her voice even but quiet enough he had to listen. "But I'm not going to shout it."
What she was going to ask him she had no idea. It wasn't as if there was a host of things that he could help her with. She stepped back from the fire as WroOth shot another angry look at Naatos. "Make sure you come back."
Naatos spoke as calmly as if WroOth wasn't about to snap into some manic rage. "I will be back before dawn."
WroOth muttered something unintelligible as he rounded the fire toward her. Still glaring, he threw his arms up in the air. "What? What do you need?"
The intensity coming off him was even louder than Naatos's. Stall for time. She opened her mouth to speak. He cut her off.
"No. You're going to do something for me first."
Amelia kept her arms folded as he swung his arm around her shoulders and rocked her to the side. "Oh? What's that?"
His jaw tightened, his arm crushing her to his side. "My brother is going to do something incredibly stupid very soon. He may deny it, but I know him better than this. He thinks he can escape the ilzinium by activating the surge. Or that he can find a miracle cure since it's unlikely we'll find the actual components we need. No one is going to be able to stop him. I don't know when he'll try it, but he will. It's his way. And more than likely this will happen away from the camp and in the wilderness, and you will be tempted to go after him."
Her eyebrow arched. She leaned back against his arm as she peered up at him. There was no laughter or joking in his face. Only harsh anger and deep fear. "You think I would go out there and risk the wilderness to save… him?" Of all the ways that this conversation was going to go, this was not what she had anticipated.
His expression remained serious. "You risked banishment and death to save AaQar. You stood in the way of our being tortured. And if there is any possible way you can almost get yourself killed, you'll take it."
She sighed. "I don't like almost dying or actually dying. And I like AaQar a lot better than Naatos."
He smirked. "You say that, but I know you better than you think too." He lowered his voice to a more conspiratorial tone. "Your consciousness slammed itself into mine, and I retained far more knowledge of you than me. You were also worrying over him just yesterday when he was gone less than half a day. Now I love my brother. I love him with my life. But I have a sikalt of a broth
er. He's also a survivor. Nothing will stop him from this. And if anyone can survive, it's him." He took a steadying breath as if trying to root this knowledge deep within himself. "You, on the other hand, my sweet fragile sister." He gave her another shake as if to prove the point. "This wilderness is treacherous. And what lies beyond the rels will devour you in minutes. So promise me you will stay in the camp unless you are with one of us."
"Do your fragile sister a favor and don't shake her like that." She stepped out from under his arm and pushed his hand back. "Are you telling me that even if I have the opportunity, you don't want me to save Naatos?"
"Naatos can take care of himself."
"So, let's say he does do this surge, why wouldn't he do it in the camp?" She noted that Naatos had already left.
"The more dangerous the situation, the more likely he will succeed in triggering the surge. Or at least faster. Waiting for it to come when one is starving or fading takes an indeterminable period of time. And it is miserable. Beyond all count, it is misery upon misery." WroOth drew his hand over his face. "But he won't be stopped from it. You might be. I found some yellow marlo flowers. I'll make a dye and mark out the boundaries of the rels. Now promise me, Amelia."
"I can't imagine risking my life for Naatos. Maybe for you or AaQar or QueQoa. But not him."
"You don't need to be risking your life for any of us. And if we don't make it, well… let's just say we will because that's how it must be. Vawtrians are built to survive. Even when it's difficult. At least when they're grown. I lost one sister to the wilderness. I won't lose another."
She squeezed his hand. "I don't plan on dying."
"No one ever does. Unless they're my brothers. In which case, it's an art form."
AaQar opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head as he returned to QueQoa.
"Now," WroOth said with a long sigh. "This may seem odious, but you're going to have to restrain your natural impulses and not rush headlong into danger. You are not dying. Whatever else happens. What is it you wanted me to do?"
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