Enemy Known

by Butler, J. M.

  "This is the man I am. It's best she loves that and not a false image of what she thinks I am—or worse—what she hopes I will be if she convinces herself that she can change me. Following yours or WroOth's plans for wooing her would plant false ideas in that mind of hers. I cannot be changed. I will not be."

  "I think you may be surprised to discover how much you will change. Not because she forces you, but because you will care."

  Naatos shook his head. "This isn't about caring. Of course I will care for her. I…feel already. But I have tried lying to her, and that did not work. I resent the way I feel when I am near her. I despise the need I feel, even when she is not present. But what a man promises in a fit of desperation is not always what he does when that need is sated. If I pretend to be someone I am not to woo her, then, when I have her, I will disappoint her, and the wounds will be all the deeper. So there will be no flowers or serenades. I am not you. I am not WroOth." The puma butted him in the back of the knees, nearly knocking him over. Naatos turned and grabbed hold of its face. "No more. Go play somewhere else. Bad Cat." He gave it a sharp smack on the nose and shoved it off.

  Tossing its head, the large cat stared at him for a moment, then padded away, its long black-tipped tail swishing back and forth.

  AaQar studied Naatos, startled at this confession. "She is Neyeb though."

  "One can love and still be angry and disappointed," Naatos said. His jaw tightened. "Love isn't quite the overwhelming suffocant I was hoping for. Now. About that fire. I want to see what WroOth is up to."

  AaQar returned his gaze to the burning tree. "Perhaps he has found some new friends. If so, we should meet them."

  "Agreed."

  2

  Sibling Rivalry

  Amelia struggled to ignore WroOth, but his words sunk into her soul. "Please leave me alone." Her voice was thick and hoarse. She needed water. Rising, she strode toward the river, turning her back on him.

  "The last thing you need is to be alone." WroOth followed her. He stared into the night. Starlight twinkled above the jagged mountainside and the tree WroOth had set alight. "That's why having family matters. Not even a cadre can be so close. But family…well, I am here for you. AaQar, Naatos. We will always be here for you."

  Amelia’s eyes burned from fatigue and woodsmoke. She knelt by the river and scooped up a handful of the cold water, then splashed it on her face. "I'm sure you aren't going anywhere."

  She sloshed more water on her face. There was no simple way to be rid of them, and the blood curse prevented her from killing them. She glanced over her shoulder at the burning tree.

  Obviously it was a beacon. Even if WroOth didn't mean it that way, Naatos was certain to see it eventually. He would come. He would take her. She would be overwhelmed. That was all there was to it. She was losing herself.

  Bowing her head, Amelia let the water drip from her face. As the droplets vanished into the river, an idea occurred to her. "WroOth," she said. "Do you have paper and something to write with?"

  "Always."

  Amelia gave him a quizzical look. "Really? I thought that was going to be a little more unlikely."

  WroOth smiled. He offered her some folded pieces of thick paper and charcoal wrapped in wood casings. "See. I am full of surprises."

  "No one would deny that." Amelia wiped her hands on her mud-stained dress before taking the instruments and returning to the light of the fire.

  "So what are you doing?" WroOth asked.

  "Naatos won't listen to me. He hasn't so far anyway, and I doubt he will now." Amelia's cheeks burned. After what he witnessed in her mind, why would he ever listen to her? He had seen her at one of her weakest moments. He had seen the inadequacy of her strength and skills, and she had almost given in to him. He thought he had the advantage now, which would make him less likely to hear her. "If I write it out, he can read it. And reread it."

  WroOth nodded. "I'm certain he will."

  Amelia looked up at the sky once more. Her gut warned her she had perhaps an hour or so before Naatos arrived. Maybe less. If she could make this plan work, she'd have to draft the letter, give it to WroOth, and somehow escape. While Shon had been willing to respect her desire to remain alone on the mountainside, she doubted WroOth would. First things first, she had to write the letter.

  She began writing as quickly and persuasively as she could. The words poured out, her anger and confusion released onto the page.

  The fire crackled in the tree. Occasionally WroOth refreshed the flames. At last, Amelia wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, folded the pages three times, and stood.

  "Feeling better then?" WroOth asked. He poked the meat cooking in the fire with a charred stick.

  "A little." Amelia crossed over to him, holding out the letter. "Can you give this to Naatos? I know what I need now to accept his offer. If you can bring me his response to this place in eight weeks, then I —"

  "Eight weeks?" WroOth gave her a strange look, his brow crinkling. "Why eight weeks?"

  "It seems right." Amelia noted that WroOth tensed when she said this. But why? She studied him, searching for some clue. Aside from his concern, she couldn't detect any reason for it. Perhaps in the next eight weeks she would learn how to read minds. "I need time to learn how to be a Neyeb, and he will need time to answer my questions."

  "I am afraid that that won't be possible." WroOth tossed the stick into the fire. Turning to face her, he took the letter and turned it over. "Eight weeks is far too long. I say we return to my previous recommendation. You come back with me. I hide you. I give Naatos this letter. He writes back to you within the next few days. You return then."

  Amelia folded her arms. "I don't see that working, and wouldn't that be dangerous for you? He swore he'd kill all of my lovers. What is he going to say when he finds out you've been hiding me all this time? Don't you think he might suspect something is happening?"

  "Well, it's not as if I'm going to be keeping you in my bed, dear heart." WroOth laughed. "Understand that the connection between a viskare and viskaro does not end with death. I am bound to my Mara even now, and there will never be another. And even then, my brothers and I trust one another implicitly. There is no greater offense than to steal your brother's viskaro."

  "Still…I need time alone." Amelia watched him, knowing his apparent calm mood was no indication of safety. "So you will let me leave. You said you would help me. You would give me what I need. And what I need is to stay here while you go."

  "I think we've already established you don't know what you need. And it should already be clear…I won't be leaving without you, little sister."

  Amelia's chest tightened. The anger she had released on the page returned again, strong, clenching within her. "I can't think when I'm around you three, and I am not going to lose who I am because you overwhelm me. So if you want me to accept your brother, you will back off and let me have my space."

  "How quickly you go from defeat to fire." WroOth set his arms akimbo, that infuriating smile still on his face. "We've been over all this before. What's giving you this spark now, little sister? You're going to join us anyway. It is only a matter of time, and it will not even take much of that before you realize how wrong you've been."

  The rage sparked up within Amelia again. Total and utter anger overwhelmed her, and that cold bead expanded in her mind. "I am not wrong," she said sternly.

  "Oh, but you are." WroOth continued to laugh, shaking his head with delight. "You are wrong in every imaginable way. But don't worry. You'll —"

  Amelia lunged at him, striking him in the face and tackling him to the ground. Straddling his chest, she punched him repeatedly in the face, screaming with all her strength. WroOth shoved her back, but she slammed her head forward, striking his chest as he sat up.

  WroOth flung her off. Amelia struck the ground and rolled, dirt and pebbles flying up around her. Before she reoriented herself, he twisted her arm behind her back and hauled her to her feet. "Shrieking moons, girl!" he
exclaimed. "You are bloodthirsty tonight, aren't you?" He held her out at arm's length as she thrashed. "Do you need to fight me more or have you had enough? If I hurt you, and I won't intentionally right now, you're going to deal with Naatos much sooner."

  "Let go of me and leave me alone!" Amelia shouted. She lashed at him again with her leg.

  "You know, unless you're simply looking to relieve some anger, you really shouldn't take on your big brother unless you have a better plan in place."

  "Or unless she has a friend to help her." Kepsalon strode into the circle of firelight.

  WroOth's grip tightened on Amelia's arm. "And now I know where I have seen you before." He straightened, pulling Amelia back. "The years have been kinder to you than they should."

  "Perhaps." Kepsalon held up a whip. It sparked with blue shards of energy, but they did not trouble him. The thick brown leather gloves and the lighter leather tunic he wore beneath his jerkin absorbed the energy that struck him without apparently causing him harm. "Are you all right, Amelia?" A dark blue and purple welt beneath his eye marked where she had struck him earlier, a bandage fastened to the top of his nose.

  Amelia nodded slowly, shocked to see him.

  "You are responsible for the deaths of my wife and children," WroOth said. "You will not take my sister from me now."

  "What?" Amelia's mouth fell open. Kepsalon? He wasn't always kind, but she couldn't imagine that he would kill someone.

  Kepsalon lifted his chin. His eyebrow arched, pain flickering in his hazel eyes. "I still mourn their loss, but it was not my wish that they died nor my actions that caused it."

  "You lie to yourself, but you won't lie to me." WroOth glared at Kepsalon, his muscles tight and his eyes blazing. His gaze lowered to the whip once more, seeming to recognize the energy. "Be glad you can still leave with your life. Otherwise I'll kill you as I promised."

  "No. You won't." Kepsalon held the end of the whip between his gloved fingers, watching WroOth with far more ease than Amelia anticipated. "You see…a prophet knows when he will die, and there are many points at which that might happen for me. Tonight has never been one of those points, and it never will be. One wrong move from you, and I'll send all 300 helns of electricity coursing through you. It'll go through Amelia as well, but you don't have to worry. Either of you. It's only enough to paralyze and stop you from shifting, WroOth. Now release the Neyeb."

  Amelia remained braced, uncertain whether WroOth would release her or what to think about Kepsalon tracking her here.

  WroOth's grip tightened around her. "You will not take my sister from me," he said. "If you do not go, then I will find you in some other place, and I will tear the vertebrae from your body one at a time and crush your face into dust!"

  "You intended to do that anyway." Kepsalon fingered the edge of the whip. The warm firelight only revealed half of his face, giving him a somber and terrifying look. "Our reckoning has yet to come, former Para. But it will. And soon. Now release Amelia." He lifted the whip, the energy sparking, the burning scent intensifying.

  Amelia clenched her jaw and fists, expecting the searing pain of an electric shock. But to her surprise, WroOth released her and stepped back. "If anything happens to her, I will hold you responsible," WroOth said. "I will find a way to increase my vengeance upon you."

  Kepsalon shook his head, his manner almost weary. "She will be changing, my friend. Such is how it must be. But you know this. And once again you are doing what is best for her. Give her the eight weeks, and all will be well."

  Amelia glanced between WroOth and Kepsalon. "So I have to go with you," she said, focusing on Kepsalon.

  "No. You may go where you like. I am simply doing what I have always done. Ensuring you are able to choose," Kepsalon said.

  WroOth grabbed her by the arm, a panicked expression flashing through his eyes. "Then you choose to come back with me. You cannot stay out here, and you cannot go with him. You think the Machat are your friends, but they will betray you. They are a race of traitors and fanatics. They will use you for their own ends. Do you understand?" He took hold of her chin, lifting her face to his. "Do you understand me, Amelia?"

  Amelia jerked free, glaring at him. "Isn't that what you and your brothers want too? In the end, you're all manipulating me. You all have a plan you want me to play a role in."

  "You are free to do as you like, Amelia," Kepsalon said. "Go with WroOth. Return to New Istador with me. Go somewhere else. I am only here to ensure you are not carried away against your will." Kepsalon kept his gaze fastened on WroOth though he spoke to Amelia. "Your choice matters."

  Amelia stepped farther away from both.

  "Amelia, that creature is in part responsible for the deaths of my wife and children,” WroOth said. The control in his voice wavered as he continued. "Even if he seems to mean well, he will destroy you!"

  "I have no wish for Amelia's destruction," Kepsalon said. "And I was not responsible for those deaths."

  "Liar!" WroOth bellowed. Rage shone in his eyes as he started forward.

  Kepsalon raised the whip with a warning crackle.

  WroOth fell back, but the anger had not faded. "It is because of you that they are dead. Their blood will forever stain your hands and your soul!"

  "Calm yourself, brother. One day all will be paid. Perhaps this day." Naatos's voice sounded from outside the firelight.

  Amelia spun toward his voice, startled. She hadn't even heard him approach.

  Both Naatos and AaQar entered the firelight near WroOth. AaQar spoke to WroOth immediately in hushed tones as Naatos focused his attention on Kepsalon. "You may not desire Amelia's destruction, but we desire yours." He placed his hand on WroOth's shoulder before stepping in front of him. "You stole my wife from me once, Machat. You will not succeed a second time."

  Amelia debated saying something but decided it was better he hadn't acknowledged her. She moved deeper into the shadows.

  Kepsalon chuckled. He was significantly smaller than Naatos, but he showed no signs of intimidation. "If you could see what I see in the future, you would be amazed at what all will steal her from you. Particularly if you don't make certain changes."

  "Then I suppose I'd best ensure she never escapes again." Naatos at last shifted his gaze to Amelia. "I don't recommend you attempt running. I'm already annoyed. It would be in your best interests to de-escalate this situation."

  "My best interests?" she echoed incredulously. "Be as annoyed as you like. I'm not going back with you."

  Kepsalon lifted his shoulders. An almost amused smile played on his lips. "She's made her choice. It's my job to ensure she gets to make it."

  Naatos glared at Kepsalon. "Do you think you are enough to stop me?"

  "I do," Kepsalon said.

  Garments rustled in the night as two dozen Machat men and women stepped out from their hiding places. All held whips and slings that arced and sparked with electricity. "You keep forgetting," Kepsalon said. "We are the Machat, and even though we are sometimes wrong, we are always ready for you."

  3

  To Make Matters Right

  It took Shon quite some time to return to New Istador after leaving Amelia alone on the mountainside as she had requested. Night had fallen, a deep blue-purple half a shade from black, punctured by a million stars. With each step he took, he became angrier and angrier. Not at Kepsalon. Not at Amelia. But at Naatos.

  Shon ground his fingers into his palms, flexing his hands over his hunting knife or tomarangs before clenching his fists. He tightened his jaw until the tendons ached.

  Kepsalon had let him have a taste of a love he could never replace. And if his love for Amelia stemmed from an actual realization of her soul—then how could there be anyone else? How could he ever have such pure and wondrous knowledge—even if it wasn't conscious knowledge—and a desire for intimacy for another person? This could never be remade.

  With each step, his frustration and anger rose. Ignoring everyone he encountered upon reaching New Istador, h
e kept his head down and his stride quick. He couldn't even recall who he passed or who stood guard at the secret doors.

  How could something so perfect be offered and then snatched away, he thought. It can't be. What sense does that make? He and Amelia had to be meant for one another. Surely if Elonumato had a plan which took into account their own actions, then the consummation and continuation of this relationship was part of it. Kepsalon had been allowed to use the bakai because Shon and Amelia were meant to be together, not because she was for Naatos and had to be prevented from being overwhelmed. Well, perhaps part of the latter was true. Amelia had been saved from Naatos because she fell in love with Shon instead.

  So didn't that mean he should get to stay with her?

  Reaching the small bedchambers he shared with Matthu, Shon at once closed the door. He leaned his head against the cold wood and drew a deep breath. The pressure within his chest increased.

  That had to be it. Wasn't it? He clenched his eyes shut. The question ran so deep it hurt.

  The knob turned, and the door started to open. Shon remained against it.

  "Hey…Shon?" Matthu called. "Is that you?"

  Releasing the breath, Shon stepped back. He drew his hand across his face and pulled the door open.

  His younger brother peered in and cleared his throat, at last looking up at him. "So…did you find Amelia?"

  Shon moved away. "Amelia isn't back."

  It wasn't as if there was some place to hide her here. The bunk beds were carved directly into the stone wall across from the door, and the only other furniture in the small room was a narrow dresser and a table with a polished clay water basin. A warm ball of light came from the clay oil lamp on the same table.

  "What?" Matthu frowned. "But I thought—"

  "Just get in here." Shon grabbed his arm and jerked him in.

  Matthu stumbled. Catching himself on the grey-blue stone wall, he shot Shon an irritated look. "What's wrong?" He rubbed his scuffed palms.