Wilderness Untamed

by Butler, J. M.

  Rasha. As bold and defiant as she had ever been. It had been well over a decade since he'd last seen her (who knew how long it had been for her?), and she hadn't lost an ounce of strength. She was fully six feet tall with fire-red hair down to her waist, just as she was the last time he'd seen her. But she'd changed her eyes. One was violet, the other turquoise. A hard but coy smile graced her face as she set her hands on her angular waist.

  This emergence wasn't just a shadow of Rasha. It could very well have been her. Solid enough to cast a shadow. Clear enough to even have a scent. Peonies and jacaruna blossoms, a perfume AaQar had purchased for her ages ago. "Well?" She lifted her brows as her gaze slid over them all. "None of you has anything to say? I never thought I'd live to see the day."

  QueQoa remained transfixed. "Rasha? Is that really you? Are you—what are you doing?"

  Her expression softened. "Hello QueQoa. It's good to see you haven't changed."

  "You emerged…" AaQar shook his head, his mouth open. "What did you do? I thought you were a prisoner!"

  "I am. But that doesn't mean they control my mind. And that little Neyeb of yours is excellent at opening doors. Not so good at closing them." She braced her hands on her waist as she laughed. "I didn't even know I could do that without my kit. But here I am. For now at least. Is she hurt?" She turned back toward Amelia, eying her for the first time.

  "You're draining her." Naatos glared at Rasha. Amelia had at least stopped resisting the emergence and was now focused on evening the power flowing through her. Her eye color had returned though her lips remained white. "These projections take a cost. You know this. Whatever you have to say, say it and be done."

  "Interesting." She chuckled. "It's good to see you found your veskaro, odd as it may be. And tragic as this will play out."

  "Rasha," AaQar said again. "Why are you here?"

  "I'm here to talk. To warn you all." She folded her arms with a flourish. "You have no idea what you're walking into nor who is coming for you. So here I am."

  "Noble of you," Naatos said quietly. How could his connection with Amelia be so weak he couldn't even send her energy to sustain this emergence? He resisted the urge to clamp down on her harder. "What do you have to say?"

  "Wait, wait." WroOth held up his hands and gestured angrily in Rasha's direction. "Isn't the more important question how we know this is Rasha? You could be anything!"

  No. It was Rasha. Naatos didn't let his eyes leave her. It was her, and if anyone thought she was helpless, they were foolish beyond reason. That same cunning light filled her eyes. If she was a prisoner, her spirit had not yet been broken. If she was a traitor, she had the vitality to defy them all.

  Rasha smirked as she turned her attention to WroOth. "Of course you're the one who doubts me, little brother. You've had doubts about me since Nkiato's disappearance. Mara fed them to you like dinner rolls, and you ate every word."

  "Careful," WroOth growled. His fists clenched.

  "Rasha." AaQar started for her as QueQoa moved alongside WroOth.

  "Everyone knows it's true. Don't deny it. That and the Unato Massacre. But that was easier to set aside. Mara cared most about the little universe she created in that temple. And you desperately needed someone to blame for his disappearance. It couldn't just be that he ran off or died or got caught by the plague."

  "Rasha," AaQar said, drawing closer still. His brow creased in a deep frown. "You aren't here to talk about that."

  "Mara was rarely wrong." WroOth met her gaze, his words tight.

  "Oh but she was. About many things. Most of all you, baby brother." The firelight played across her face, her eyes taking on that hard glint. "She believed you when you said you weren't going through with this whole conquest of the worlds. That you weren't taking over the Tue-Rahs. If only you could have seen her face. She had such trust in you. Such faith. And all the while you were lying to her." She clicked her tongue. "The look on her face. That night behind that little cherry blossom divider in the dining room, she told me all about what you'd told her and how she believed you. The only thing she ever crushed or killed were her doubts about you. I wonder what she thinks now that all that has been laid bare. They say in Elonumato's Land that as soon as you set foot within that city, you know all of the truths you were denied in your life. Which means she also knows you did this because you wanted to make the worlds safe for her and for your little ones. And yet in so doing, you are the reason they are dead. They never would have died if not for that."

  A snarl tore from WroOth's mouth as he lunged at her. QueQoa barely intercepted in time, snagging him from the air and hauling him back. "It's all right, she's lying. You know how she is."

  "Rasha!" AaQar shouted, moving between them. He seized her by the shoulders and pulled her away. "Enough. Enough of this! You do not speak to him that way. And you do not speak of Mara. If you have only come to heap abuse and tear at this family, then go."

  She chuckled, shaking her head. "I know it seems cruel. But how else would you know it's me? All your secrets, all of you, they're twisted and horrid. And I could share them all. Speak them all. But we will run out of time. That one is not inexhaustible." She indicated Amelia with a casual toss of her hand. "Do you believe that it is in fact me?"

  "Yes," AaQar said. His eyes shuttered, his breath hissing through his teeth. "You are very different here than in the dreams."

  "By different, you mean what I was before I was captured." She canted her head. "You keep trying to idealize me, my love. But you never really knew me. And if you did, you would not love me as you do. That's not why I'm here though. And I'm not here to ask you to save me. I don't even know where I am. And if you get stupid enough to try to come for me alone, veskare, I will rip out your throat. The people who have taken me, they are formidable. And they are coming for you as well. You aren't safe even on an empty world."

  "How do you know Ecekom is empty?" Naatos demanded.

  "They showed me pieces of it and told me the rest. Physical pain they can't force me to bear. But mental and emotional, well, that they can attempt. At least when I am conscious, which is quite rare these days. Our people are gone." She indicated the sky. "The ilzinium. Some group called the Abliatos found a way to increase it, and it burned through our people like fire in dry grass. Whole families fell and withered. It suppressed the surge in almost all. The ilzinium and more. Boiled the blood and stole the air from the Shivennans. Turned the beasts mad. Tiablo and Bealorn experiments escaped and rampaged through what little remained, and still the Abliatos pressed forward. Awdawms and Machat retreated into the rocks like cockroaches, dragging down those they could in hopes of saving them. What little good that did. If there are survivors, they'll be in the rocks and beneath the mountains. Not that they'll last long. And nor will you if you haven't gotten out of there by the time the Grey Season arrives. It's late, but when it comes—" She shuddered. "Perhaps they will leave you to the mercies of this world, but I doubt it. You have to prepare. They will come for you through the blood portals when they are ready."

  "Blood portals are forbidden," QueQoa said. "They cost a life for each life that passes through."

  "Well, unfortunately, this enemy does not care about the cost of life. At least not when the cost is something meager like a useless prisoner or a slave or an Awdawm." She moved her focus from one to the next. "They see more than half the races as expendable. That gives them plenty to work with for fueling blood portals. So… be cautious. You are alone for now, but you will not be forever. Our enemies will give you no rest."

  "Are they observing us?" AaQar asked. He spoke now with an even tone though his muscles remained knotted. "Are they watching us through you?"

  "They were present for our first conversation. No others though. They have underestimated how broken I really am."

  "And why now?" QueQoa asked.

  "It is only now AaQar is strong enough—"

  "Save your lies," Naatos snarled. "If it was only to torment AaQar, that could hav
e been done any number of ways."

  "Hold your temper and your strength, Naatos," Rasha said coolly. "You have no idea what you are up against. And that should worry you more than the question of timing. The good news for you though is that you do have time. All of you. Though that one," she pointed to Amelia, "she has the least. Understand that everything is a progression. An escalation. Nydas and I were stolen in secret. You did not know what became of us, but our abandonment brought shame to the family. Mara and the children were butchered in secret and then displayed. They brought sorrow and grief to the family. And Amelia, they will display her and then butcher her. She will bring fear to the family. What they'll do to her will make what happened before seem like a kindness. The only good part in it is that they have to have an audience. You aren't going to be able to stop them, Naatos. Not any more than AaQar or WroOth could stop them when their time came."

  "I might have a few things to say about that." Amelia pushed away from Naatos. Her knees shook, but she was determined to stand under her own strength. "And unlike for you or Mara, I know something is coming."

  "It doesn't matter that you know, Neyeb." She studied Amelia's face. "You're a mindreader. You know this truth, or you'll learn it soon enough: Just because you can see the thought or feel the emotion doesn't mean you can stop it in time."

  "I'm not afraid of dying."

  "It's not the dying that's the hard part. It's all the pain they have in store for you along the way. The only reason I haven't broken is because I schooled myself in pain for centuries. I know how to endure. My spirit bends for no one. But do you know how to separate your consciousness from your nerves, little one? Do you know how to steel your heart against violence and death and ruin? Do you know how to choose to not feel what your enemy inflicts upon you? I ask this, but we all know the truth. You are determined, but you are soft. More importantly, it doesn't matter. The only point is that you suffer because they want them to suffer. Nothing you say and nothing you do will give them what they want besides your agony. You're weak where it counts, my dear."

  "Bold coming from the person who is using my life energy and my consciousness to project herself into this world."

  Rasha grinned. "I am very bold. Maybe you'll prove me wrong, little girl. I'd love it if you did."

  Amelia lifted her chin. "Is the Okalu behind this?"

  Rasha's eyes narrowed as she met her gaze. "You know what will happen. You understand."

  Naatos put his hand to her shoulder. If she understood the consequences of the magic used to bind Rasha from speaking this knowledge—could the books have actually prepared her for this?

  Amelia nodded, her expression grim. "Answer me. It's the closest to the surface. It has the least of the bindings."

  The muscles in Rasha's throat and chest tightened as her nostrils flared. A grimace of pain started at her mouth and spread through her as she shook violently. "Yes." The word tore out of her. "And they—they killed Mara and—and—" With an agonizing scream, she collapsed, curling in on herself, her hands flying to her head.

  Amelia's knees gave way. She mirrored Rasha's movements, contorting against the earth.

  Naatos dragged her back as her soundless screams continued. He knew this magic. It was ancient and vicious. And nothing could be done to stop it. He forced her hands from her face as she tore at her temples again. "It will pass. It will pass."

  AaQar swept down over Rasha, cradling her.

  Slowly the wave stilled as Rasha's screams faded. Amelia's body relaxed, going slack in his arms.

  AaQar remained with Rasha. "I don't care what you say; I don't care what you've done," he whispered. "I will find you. And you will have the chance to make things right. We will make things right. Together."

  Laughing hollowly, Rasha leaned her head on his shoulder. "Always the optimist. I don't need you to rescue me. I don't need you to die for me. What I need is for you to find them and make them pay. Make them pay for all of this. For every moment. Every breath. That goes for all of you." Groaning, she stood.

  Amelia struggled to her feet as well. Her legs were still shaking.

  His hand now at the back of her neck, he leaned in and whispered, "you don't have to get up."

  "Yes I do," she whispered back.

  He growled with frustration but positioned himself behind her. "Lean on me."

  "No."

  "If you need to." Stubborn little onion fish.

  She gave a slight nod.

  Rasha had set her hands back on her hips and taken a stronger stance. She indicated Amelia with a jerk of her head. "When they come for the mindreader, don't be fools. Let them take her. Be cunning. Be cold. It's the only chance you have to save her. They may have heard that last little alarm, so I should go. But as for me…" She turned to AaQar, her expression softening. Tears misted her eyes for a moment. "You are going to hear things about me, my love. Some true. Some false. Things I kept from you. For good reason. But the one thing that is not false is my love for you. I adored you from the moment I met you. The greatest torture they could inflict on me was that they might have made you doubt that. And how could I blame you? That letter was convincing. I would have believed it had our positions been reversed. Whatever else you may think of me, just know that." She turned her gaze to the rest of the family. "I didn't like all of you to start. And I never hid my feelings on that point. I do care about you all now. So, for what it's worth, make the most of what time you have. Prepare. And bring these wretches to ruin. That ludicrous plan to restore the timeline with the Tue-Rah may work. It may not. But whatever you do, you bring vengeance of every type and rain it upon them like acid rain in the Grey Season."

  She winced then. Her hand to her head, she released a long slow breath. "It's time, I suppose." She squared her pale shoulders and cast a smile around the family. "Since I doubt we'll meet again, I'll just say tear them apart, darlings." She fluttered her fingers, then vanished.

  A dull silence spread between them. Amelia held her head, blood trickling down her cheek.

  "Are you all right?" He stepped closer, but she remained rigid.

  "WroOth isn't." She pointed into the darkness, her eyes closed, panting. "Something's wrong."

  He followed the line of her finger, dread spreading its cold fingers through his gut. WroOth had paced farther and farther out from the fire until he was almost in the brush. Only the faintest sliver of firelight highlighted his face.

  Crespa.

  That look.

  He knew that look.

  "WroOth."

  AaQar had already fanned out to the right while QueQoa moved in from the left.

  "WroOth." AaQar held his hands out. "She was wrong. You know this. We know this. What happened wasn't your fault. You did everything you could. Breathe. WroOth. Breathe."

  WroOth had stiffened, his eyes rolling sightlessly. There was no recognition. No awareness. Every muscle in his body tensed. One wrong move, and he'd run.

  The fire popped.

  WroOth lurched forward and screamed.

  That scream was something between human and dragon, terrifying and heartrending at once. He tore his fingers across his face, ripping out chunks of dark hair.

  QueQoa grabbed him in a tight bearhug, but WroOth thrashed. Even as AaQar seized him, he started to transform. The red fire dragon form practically exploded. QueQoa shifted as well, attempting his iron dragon. But WroOth had already torn free and swept into the sky.

  AaQar leaped after him, snapping into a blue spine-ridged dragon.

  They disappeared into the night sky.

  Naatos thrust a whistle at her. "Three short blasts if he comes back. Two short and one long if something bad happens. One long if you are in danger. Do not leave the rels or so help me—"

  "Just go!" She almost swatted him but pulled back instead, holding up her hands so she didn't touch him. "Don't get angry. Just go!"

  47

  Guilt

  Amelia paced around the fire, listening to the night all aro
und her. There were more sounds here, barks and roars that suggested not all slept. The dolmaths had not come this night. Perhaps because of Rasha. Even Tacky was uneasy, scurrying around the fire and darting at her feet. She hadn't been paying attention to whether they had come and then left. They had run after the mind shade had appeared. Something in the energy or the air maybe?

  That distinctive scent wasn't so clear though. It was just fresh air and woodsmoke with a tinge of peonies and some floral note she couldn't place.

  They would be all right.

  WroOth would be fine.

  Of course he would.

  He was just—she shuddered, recalling that broken look in his eyes. Rasha's words had been so sharp. They'd practically sliced through his soul. As she walked, she prayed.

  The darkness of the night thickened as the waxing gibbous moon barely cast out any light through the clouds. Where were they? She recognized some of the roars. They were calling. He wasn't answering.

  No. Not answering… but she felt him. Her elmis twinged, guiding her to the left of the tree she'd hung her hammock in.

  There he was with his back to the tree, utterly unkempt, his black hair wild about his face and the skin beneath his eyes bruised and haggard. One of his boots was gone, and his hands, forearms, and throat were healing slowly, as if he'd raked himself through thornbushes. The cuts on his face remained. He'd shifted forms at least twice now. For some reason, he'd chosen to keep them.

  "WroOth, I know you aren't all right. Just tell me what you need."

  He did not move.

  Placing the whistle to her lips, she sent off three short blasts. He didn't even flinch.

  She brought a blanket over and placed it around his shoulders. Crouching beside him, she pulled it snug. "Do you want something to eat? Something to drink?"

  "No."

  Being near him stung her elmis and hurt her heart. Whatever he felt arced and shattered in bits around him, fraying his edges and scraping along her senses. Stepping back, she retrieved two of the canteens and braced herself. The books had made it seem so easy to channel how much information she received through her elmis, but she still struggled. It made sensing sometimes feel like someone was shouting in her face.