Enemy Known

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Enemy Known Page 9

by Butler, J. M.


  Shoving him back, Amelia stood to her feet. Stunned silence filled the room. Libyshans and Machat alike stared.

  Amelia rubbed her wrists. Her hands and legs throbbed now as the blood pulsed through the veins. "I am no traitor," she said again, warm air clearing her head. "I came back here to learn how to be a Neyeb and how to defeat Naatos. Now if anyone else has a problem with that, then let them speak now. Otherwise, all of you get away from me."

  10

  Meat

  The adrenaline tapered off along with the cold, but its power thundered within Amelia nonetheless. Her heart rate slowed. She loved the sensation of power it left her.

  The Ayamin who sided with Vorec helped him limp off. All of the Libsyhans backed away, watching her as if she was some strange being.

  Amelia pushed the wild strands behind her ears. She looked to Matthu and the Ayamin who had stood by him. "Thank you," she said. "I appreciate your support."

  "What support we have to offer is yours," Traol said. He gestured toward the bandages that covered his body as well as the wounds of the other Ayamin. "Such as it is."

  "I'm grateful for it, nonetheless." Amelia wished she knew all their names. Turning, she took the rest of the chamber in. Two of the Machat were sliding the door shut, closing off the last breaths of cold night air. Kepsalon stood beside Nialan, examining a deep bruise that had formed over her thin shoulder. His own knuckles were bloodied as if he had struck someone in the mouth. Four Machat already surrounded Shon, and Matthu hurried along beside him.

  Amelia drew close enough to see. "Is he all right? We need to elevate his head." She went to remove her jacket but then realized she wasn't wearing one.

  Matthu removed his leather vest, folded it three times, and slid it beneath Shon's head. "It's a family trait." He rubbed his own jaw. "Hit us just right, and we go down like a sack of rocks. Doesn't even take a punch on the right spot sometimes.”

  "I'm sorry," Amelia said.

  "He will wake soon," the Machat man said. He had loose flowing hazel hair and warm eyes. "The damage to his ego will be the worst of it." He and the others began prepping a small stretcher.

  Amelia gripped the inside of her arm, struggling to restrain the need to be closer to Shon. To soothe away the pain he might feel even in his sleep. To feel the warmth of his skin and the thrum of his heart. And though his words warmed her soul and comforted her more than almost anything, she didn't dare put even one hand on him. "Are you taking him to the infirmary?"

  "Just to his room," the Machat said. "It will be more comfortable for him to wake there."

  Matthu checked Shon's jaw, grimacing slightly. "Can't believe the elder commander did that."

  "One of many surprises, I imagine." Amelia swallowed the lump forming in her throat. "Matthu, I've already apologized to Shon, but I should apologize to you as well. I know it won't make a difference, but I am sorry for the spider and for what's happened to your brother."

  "It's all right." Matthu straightened as the Machat lifted the stretcher. "It's not like you intended to do it, and I guess…" He shook his head, shrugging. "There's bigger issues here, and I'd rather trust you than dwell on it. I'm on your side, Amelia. You won't be perfect, but I'm going to support you till the end."

  Amelia stared at Matthu, her eyes widening. "I might be the reason your brother dies. I almost killed you. You know you can be mad at me."

  "I guess." Matthu turned to face her. He had changed somehow over these past few days. The youthful joy and optimism had not vanished from his dark-brown eyes. No, it still played there with the flecks of blue near his iris and in the little crinkles at the edges of his eyes. But there was a tempering to it. He held himself a little straighter, his shoulders a tad squarer. "I wasn't mad at you anyway. Once you take out the giant spider and the seizures and disorientation, which I don't really remember, it wasn't so bad. I feel like I've gotten to know you, and I know you aren't going to betray us. You'll do everything you can to make this right. Besides, you shouldn't even be worrying about this. There's other stuff you need to figure out." He smiled. "You'll make the right choices. And Shon and I will have your back."

  Matthu turned to follow after the Machat. Amelia hesitated. Should she follow?

  Before she could decide, Kepsalon placed his hand on her arm. "Perhaps you would like to come to meet with someone who has been quite influential in all of this?"

  "Yes. It would probably be best." Amelia couldn't pull her gaze away from the place Shon had been. The images of the tapestries spun through her mind again, filling her with a sense of regret. Being the Third Nalenth always took priority. What good was regretting her obsession if she didn't actually change? This wouldn't take long. "Actually…" She paused. "May I have a few moments?"

  "Yes." Kepsalon nodded. "You are not required immediately. When you are through, ask any of the Machat where you should go."

  Amelia thanked him and then hurried after Matthu. Her insides twisted in response. It was all right though, she reassured herself. Shon had been so brave to stand up for her against Vorec. He did deserve better than her, but didn't he also deserve to be thanked in person? Almost before that thought finished, she imagined herself kissing him.

  Stop that! she thought.

  Thrusting her hand to her head, she struggled to cool her thoughts. A deep aching rose within her heart. She had promised Naatos she wouldn't, but she wanted to run to Shon right now. Maybe they couldn't run away together, but couldn't he hold her one more time? Couldn't she snuggle close and rest her head on his chest while stroking his beard, his cheeks, his neck. The elmis at the base of her spine and on her palms pulsed. She hadn't even kissed him on the mountain.

  The memory of their last kiss in Polfradon returned with all its heat and desire. His lips were soft but firm. Just the memory made her longing all the more intense.

  How would Naatos even know?

  She took a few paces farther down the cold stone hall. Her footsteps echoed around her. What am I thinking? This was beyond foolish.

  A nauseating wave of fear cut through Amelia. She balled her hands into fists and stopped, her fingernails digging into her elmis. "I can't do this," she whispered.

  It wouldn't hurt to go to Shon's room and wait for him to wake so she could tell him how much she appreciated his standing up for her.

  What would happen next?

  She wasn't even in the same room with him and already she wanted to be with him. If his life and her word weren't on the line, perhaps she could have risked it.

  But what if Naatos found out? What if she couldn't hide it?

  Amelia tucked her hands beneath her arms. She had told Naatos that her own feelings did not matter. That her happiness did not matter. Perhaps she had been obsessed with her training before she passed through the Tue-Rah, but now there was no alternative.

  "Are you all right, Neyeb?" a Machat attendant asked, coming alongside her.

  "I need to go to wherever the elders of the Machat wanted to meet me," Amelia said.

  "Are you certain you don't require anything else?" the Machat asked. He had a triangular face with bright round eyes and a narrow mouth, but his brows drew together in genuine concern. "You look…uncomfortable."

  Amelia rubbed the inside of her wrist. "I don't suppose you Machat have something that will keep you from wanting to be with someone you shouldn't be."

  "If only we did." He bowed his head, but his smile saddened. "At best we have companion tea, but I doubt you would find it useful. Sand rose tea would be better. Sadly we don't have that either."

  "What is companion tea?" Amelia asked.

  "It is used in a ceremony where one has lost one's true love and must now choose someone for companionship. The understanding is that once you and your current companion reach Elonumato's land, or are somehow reunited with your true love, that you will release the companion. And vice versa. All who participate have lost a true love."

  Amelia wondered if perhaps it might work for her after all.
"And the tea helps with the loss?"

  The Machat shrugged as he led her through the maze of tunnels. "Some say it does. I think it is the friendship and kindness of those you drink it with. That is the only thing that truly soothes the pain of love split apart. That and time."

  Sadly Amelia feared that that was true. She followed the attendant slowly. Even if Shon was right and there was a path that eventually brought them together, how could she be so selfish to risk him further?

  She turned her thoughts from Shon to all that had happened with Vorec and the Libyshans. Nervous energy rattled at the edges of her mind and in her fingertips. Deep cleansing breaths smoothed these out along with the rest of the tension.

  The torch flames flickered on the wall. The incense-laced oil that lit them burned sweet and gentle, giving the torches a peachier hue than most. Deeper and deeper the attendant guided her through the honeycombed halls to a lower portion. The farther they went, the more signs of destruction Amelia saw. Broken glass and shredded parchments sometimes littered the blue-grey stone. Once or twice, they passed chambers with open doors, faint trails of smoke rising from snuffed out stones. "What happened? Is this about the Truth Bringers?"

  The attendant nodded. "The Truth Bringers destroyed many of the prophecies and foretellings and predictions that did not fit with what they wanted to tell the Awdawms. It all happened so swiftly…so much was destroyed."

  His voice drifted off.

  Amelia frowned. "Why didn't the Machat see this coming?"

  The attendant gave a sad shrug. "It is not a limitless skill. We must choose what we search for if we are doing directed prophecies and foretellings. Not everything can be seen. Not everything can be known. We've been quite focused in particular areas, and two of those who were intended to keep us balanced and avoid such downfalls turned out to be our enemies." He paused before a large rounded stone door. It was set into the wall with delicate carvings surrounding it. These stones were far paler and coarser than the surrounding walls. "You should enter this chamber alone." He bowed and left, disappearing around the corner.

  Amelia tilted her head. It unnerved her that the Machat hadn't known about the Truth Bringers. What exactly was it that they wanted to accomplish? The narrative that these Truth Bringers apparently brought was that she would betray the Libyshans while siding with Naatos and his brothers. But why would they claim such a thing?

  There was only one way to find out.

  Taking a deep breath, she pressed her hands to the door and entered.

  It slid open easily, not making a single sound on its oiled hinges. The room before her was surprisingly low ceilinged, even for a Machat building. It was filled with rows and rows of thick dripping white candles. A large pole was fastened in the center of the room, and a young woman, no more than twenty-five, was bound to it. She wore the loose flowing linen garb of a prophetess, though her clothing was stained with ash and dirt. Her long hair fell over her shoulders, unruly and tangled, half covering a single tile necklace. She could have been quite beautiful, but her eyes burned, fierce in cold hatred. Her lips pulled up with disdain as soon as Amelia's gaze met hers.

  Amelia frowned. Did she know this woman? Her hatred flowed throughout the room, surprisingly powerful considering she was just one person.

  "Don't be afraid." Kepsalon's voice came from farther in the room. He stood with his arms folded, his foot pressed against the wall, half hidden by shadows. His voice, though gentle, sounded sinister. "Come in. This may take a while."

  Amelia remained where she was, searching the darkness for signs of any others. "What's happening here?" she asked.

  Kepsalon stepped away from the wall and circled the bound woman. "Amelia, I want you to meet Chialao." He gestured toward her. "Chialao," he said, turning to face her. "I want you to actually meet Amelia, the woman you condemned to death."

  11

  Desperation

  "Do I know you?" Amelia asked, trying to see into the strange woman's eyes without slipping into the deep mindreading accidentally. Chialao's dark amber eyes burned into Amelia. The woman showed no hints of shame or remorse. Amelia set her hands on her waist. "Is there some reason you want me dead?"

  Kepsalon continued to circle Chialao, his hands behind his back. He clenched his wrist with his other hand, the veins in his forearms twisting the brown streaks on his skin. "The least you can do is answer her," he said, his voice little more than a throaty whisper.

  Chialao sized Amelia up, her lips still curled with distaste. "So this is the woman." She spat on the ground. "You are nothing."

  "And that's why you hate me?" Amelia walked to the edge of the light. Her shadow, Chialao's, and Kepsalon's waved on the wall, wavering with the flickering flames. Her own voice sounded soft, almost too low to hear. Yet she could not make herself louder. Some heaviness filled this place. Hatred and anger emanated from her like flames.

  "There's so many other reasons I hate you. But it matters little now. I am nearly satisfied." Chialao smiled slowly. "Soon everyone will know what you are."

  Amelia lifted her chin. "And what am I?"

  Chialao smirked. "A piece of meat for a dog."

  Amelia arched her eyebrows.

  "The so-called Truth Bringers saw to it that the Libyshans had even more reason to turn on you," Kepsalon said. "It was likely that they would be angry with you regardless. You had spent time alone with the Paras, and you have not yet succeeded in their destruction." Kepsalon removed the parchments from within his jerkin, the ones he had hidden earlier. He offered them to Amelia. "As you can see…these would seem to suggest that your relationship with them is far more…intimate and even currently mutually acceptable."

  Amelia took the parchments from Kepsalon and looked at the watercolors. Her grip tightened, her fingernails cutting into the pages. All her composure threatened to drain away. Her throat tightened as a horrible knot lodged in her stomach. She wanted to vomit. "What is this?" She stared at Chialao in shock. "You hate me so you freehand watercolor revenge porn?"

  Chialao rolled her eyes. "Whatever that is. But if you mean I hate you and so I have exposed you as what you really are, then yes. I, and those who agree with me. Everything has been about you since the day you were born. At least now, you will get the attention you deserve."

  "I never asked for attention." Amelia crumbled the parchment and cast it aside. She wanted to burn those images from her mind. That rage boiled throughout her body, mixing with shame and horror. "How could you do this?" Though she warned herself to calm down, the more she considered what Chialao had done the angrier she became. The slightest hint of the cold returned. It expanded beyond her mind and into her chest.

  "That hasn't kept you from draining the lives and dreams of others, now has it?" Chialao gave her a disgusted look. "It's not as if the Machat would have chosen to live here. But do you think they had a choice? There were so many possibilities to foresee with the future of the Paras and the Third Nalenth and the rest of the Tue-Rah, that they didn't have time or resources to find someplace else. So we made do. Uncomfortable and difficult as it was. Because we had to do our duty for the Nalenths. But not even equally for the Nalenths. The Third Nalenth took almost all our focus. What a precious little creature you are. The entirety of our world revolves around you, talentless and soulless though you be."

  Amelia gritted her jaw. The smug look on Chialao's face and the self-righteousness of her tone infuriated Amelia all the more. She dug her fingernails deep into her palms. The cold wavered, expanding and shrinking at once with the heat of her emotions.

  Chialao continued, her glare intensifying. "Do you know how many Machat have spent the entirety of their lives trying to map out and understand the paths you might take in the fulfillment of this foolishness? And what of the Awdawms? Do you think that Joseph desired the life you forced him to have?"

  Amelia's chest tightened. Guilt fired through her. She recalled how weary he had looked in her memories.

  Chialao grinned, realiz
ing she had drawn blood. "What of his dreams? He never got a chance to have his own family. He loved more than once, but he had a betrothed here. A love that will never be fulfilled because of you. He gave up everything for you. Oh, of course you thanked him. You helped around the house. You cooked him dinner and folded laundry. You did enough to salve your own conscience and convince yourself that you aren't the selfish leech you truly are. But what was all that you did compared to the loss of everything he desired? What was it that he wanted? That little pizza restaurant where he and his comrades could do whatever it is that Awdawm men in your world do. But that dream never was and never will be because of you."

  Amelia swallowed the lump in her throat. Tears stung the backs of her eyes.

  "And what of the poor Awdawm fool that this monster trapped for you? Not that it made much difference." Chialao rolled her eyes. "Shon fell in love with you so many times later on, even without Kepsalon's help. It was pathetic. The situation was always so bad. The death toll so high. The roads red with blood. But, oh, that Shon. He was always drawn to you, even when you were sucking that Vawtrian's face. You don't deserve him, you heartless little hellion. You never deserved him. And what makes it all the worse is he knows what's going to happen to you and won't leave you. No! He'll go straight to his death, believing he has done what is right. But when you see his body lying cold on the sandstone, his eyes lifeless, don't you dare blame anyone but yourself. He would have had a far fuller and happier life if it weren't for you."

  Amelia had to hold herself back from attacking Chialao. Nothing good would come from attacking someone in her position. Not when Chialao couldn't defend herself. She willed the tears back, determined to not show any weakness.

 

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