Her soul was in torment.
I took hold of her hands and kissed her. “I love you, Pia.”
She smiled to hide her sorrow. If I asked her to come with me, she would. She would charge into death with me, with nothing but her angry voice and teeth as weapons against the coming terror.
A calm took me.
I’d watched her destroy herself to find her parent, and her soul clutched at them desperately. She needed them as much as she wanted me, and to join me would invite her death a thousand times over.
“Pia,” I said.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said, squeezing my hands so tight. “When the war is won, you will come back for me.”
“I will. Hold me now, while there is time.”
Her parents withdrew, and I wrapped her in my arms. The noisy crew hushed, and the impossible moment of quiet there upon the wild spring river seemed to last forever.
“I love you, Pia,” I said and kissed her one last time while the terrible world waited. “You stay safe and I will find you, no matter what.”
“I know you will,” she said, and took a step back from me. Her soul settled, and between us a thread glowed as bright and big as the sun and as steady as foundations of the world.
I went aboard and watched her from the rail as we were swept east by the furious current and churning oars. I lost sight of her before I thought to wave a last goodbye, but only needed to close my eyes to know that she was there.
Liv approached and stood beside me at the rail.
“It is better to be loved,” she said.
“It is.”
“Please don’t despair, Emi,” she said, and set her hand upon me.
“I am fine,” I said, but felt my arms trembling as she tried to soothe me.
She took hold of my hands. “Emi, it’s okay. We’ll be fine at the capital. You’ll see Pia again soon.”
“It’s not that,” I said. “I don’t know why I am shaking.”
“Emi, you are hurting me,” she said and sank to her knees. Then she screamed. My ears rang and my vision blurred. Her hands began to burn. Evand rushed toward us and pulled her away from me.
I tried to tell them not to worry—that I could make it stop, but I bit my tongue as my teeth began to clash together. The towers, river, and barge vanished, and I swam in darkness. The Kaaryon’s many millions of threads began to turn black and divided against me. I tried to shake off the vision—to stop what I was causing.
Where were my threads? I could not find them anywhere. The city and the Warrens had divided against me. I tried to find Pia, but she was not there. I searched and searched until out in the darkness I spotted a single gray thread reaching far to the east.
The thread was ugly. Mean. It reached out from an ugly snarl much farther away from me than I’d ever been able to see. And below me I found the splotch of color it was attached to—a ball of unwashed and ugly putty. I was drifting up from it as though I’d died and the gray smug was all that was left of me.
“I am sorry,” I yelled out across the darkness. “Pia!”
What have I done? Why is this happening to me?
All the many sounds and feeling vanished. My vision broadened and filled with light as if a blindfold had been snatched from my eyes. I was above the capital and moving too fast to find Evand or Pia in the jumbled. I few up above the Kaaryon, to a view that included lands I scarcely knew the names of and shores so distant they seemed upon the far side of the world.
I had no body or breath. The sweeping rise into the heavens was not my own. I’d been taken up with without my body or my soul and my view soared ever higher as if I were chained to the breast of a great and invisible owl. The view swung from one mass of threads to another as if the great bird searching for someone amongst the millions.
The thing I rode upon was like me. It saw the world as I did.
I had no hands with which to hold on. Whatever the being was, I needed to know why we were the same.
I felt a second presence then—another stowaway upon the spirit that thrashed desperate to get free. It was the being I’d seen in the east, the old and ugly thing I was connected to.
Who could it be? I search the vast sheet of lights below until I found the ugly things soul. It was no more than a lonely spec, and as I studied it found a single black thread no wider than a strand of spider silk that tied the miserable soul to the rising form. And as I saw this first one I found countless more. They reached out in every direction below, millions of them, connecting the ugly soul to every speck of light in the world. The connections all seemed the same, too, until I spotted a small knot of people far to the east. The threads connecting them were as unmoving as steel needles.
The view lurched then, and all the lights turned red as though the world was burning. The darkness around and below the world began to glow red, brown, and green. Violent color leapt and great threads, monstrous and angry, tried like talons to seize us. The thing I rode upon tried to fly up and away, but whips of red and brown fire lashed out and encircled us.
My vision went scarlet and a female voice, low and angry, pierced my thoughts. ‘What are you? Are you one of his? Vile creature! You and this world shall die! I am the only God. Begone!’
I had no voice with which to respond—no arms with which to throw off the hot red lashes that tore at us.
But then the godly thing screamed and the red tentacles began to fade. Black ropes covered with thorns wrapped around us until everything was cast into darkness.
‘Die,’ said a new voice as the steely thorns tore across us.
But again, I felt nothing as though the flames and thorns were made of dreams. The new voice snarled, screamed, and fell away. The freed spirit soared up, fast and straight, and the warring threads faded like the last throb of a headache. The world below came back into focus and the points of light upon its surface were set in sharp relief. I could see them all so clearly. I could see the shapes of the coastline and cities and follow the rivers and roads from the people who crowded upon them. My soul warmed as I counted all 14,449,173 people in Zoviya.
The lights dazzled and sparkled back at me. The entire world seemed for that one moment a happy thing, until flaws began to appear like twigs weaved into a rug. Three of them I found—tortured and exhausted.
The brightest of the trio was far to the north, leading men like the Hemari and 461 souls that blazed like stars. It could only be Evand’s brother Barok and his army. To their south was a smudge I did not understand. I search and searched but could not make sense of this strange darkness. It seemed coiled and ready to pounce.
I tried to shout a warning to him, but I had no voice and no control as the view swag wildly to the south.
Another of the tormented souls was far to the south. It seemed feeble and small, an infant perhaps in the arms of its mother. And it was being hunted. More black shapes, enormous and pulsing, moved down toward the child like balled fist falling upon a speck of dust. I wanted to weep or scream, but could do nothing.
The third was far to the east and near death. Another monstrous soul was close to it, this one a blazing ball of white iron that crackled as though it yearned to explode. I knew the touch of it, and remembered the day my soul had been remade in the Warrens. The bright soul was Admiral Soma, and she seemed triumphant and at the same time wracked with misery. She cared nothing for the languishing soul so close by. The lonely thing seemed vacant, too, as if it were no more than an empty shell.
‘Who are they?’ I asked without making a sound.
‘We are the Vesteal,’ came a reply.
The voiceless speaker was the second stowaway, and it was with shock that I recognized it was the same lonely soul cast adrift in the east.
I understood the black threads that connected it to world then and would have wept if I was able.
My companion was Sikhek—the one Avin blamed for everything, and it seemed he was right. He afflicted the entire world, like a poison in the blood. The Veste
al child to the south was Barok’s and the things that chased the girl were Hessier. I saw all the many million then in the vast tapestry, and how they were moving. Everything was falling together toward Bessradi like snowflakes from an ugly sky.
‘See the child. Protect the child,’ I screamed out across the darkness. Soma’s soul flared, and I search for others who might have heard me. No one else stirred.
‘Save the girl!’
The souls of the world rippled like a pond struck by a pebble, and the spirit I rode upon spun on us. I was left with a view of nothingness—no sight, sound, or sensation.
The great thing seemed to know us.
‘What are we?’ I asked.
For a moment the dark thing watching us and then it let me go.
I fell through the vastness and back down into the foggy glow of men and women. The soft wash of blue sky stung my eyes. The prick and ache of unhappy hurts was next, and then Evand’s face came into view above me. I was flat on my back and the stink of burnt things filled my nose.
“Get back,” I screamed and struggled to my feet.
“Emi, hold still. You’ve been unconscious half the day,” he said and came closer.
“Evand, I will burn you. Get away!”
“Emi. Be still. I am okay. You are okay.”
I didn’t feel okay. My legs gave way. He caught me as I fell and hefted me up into his arms. He didn’t start on fire. I tried to make sense of things. We were northwest of the Bessradi, out upon Lake Rahan, and the bright sun was setting. The blue wool of his heavy coat was warm and his arms so big and so strong. I lay my head for a moment upon his shoulder.
“You are okay,” he said and kissed my forehead.
“Where is Liv?” I asked.
He turned and pointed, and I found her sitting along the rail with Dame Franni, Natan, and Ellyon. Her hands were bandaged, yet she smiled at me.
“I am sorry, Emi,” she said. “We shouldn’t have brought you back.”
I saw the bodies then. Three men lay in a row, covered in clothes upon the deck. I could only see their muddy boots. Hemari.
My arm screamed in sudden pain and I filched. I began to squirm. He set me down and helped me get my feet back under me.
“You got stepped on,” he said and led me to toward the lonely triangle at the front of the ship. “It’s not broken though. Stings, doesn’t it?”
He was trying too hard to keep me from getting angry. His words did not help, but when put his arm around me, everything steadied. I closed my eyes and was able to keep away the visions. I held still until my thoughts stop tumbling.
“It didn’t happen because we came back to the capital,” I said. “Someone else caused it—Sikhek I think. Rahan needs to know what I saw.”
“Sikhek? He is supposed to be in Enhedu, under Barok’s boot.”
“He is in the east, somewhere close to Soma. And I saw Barok and his child. Both are in terrible danger. I saw everything, Evand. We have to tell Rahan.”
“He will not see us,” Evand said. “I met Avinda for a moment upon the palace docks, and we were ordered away. They fear that you will burn everyone alive if you stay. You are coming to Alsonvale with me after all.”
“They sent me away?” I asked and tried to better understand the view. We were north of the city, moving up the river beneath an evening sun. Smoke rose from the eastern shore of the lake, and closing my eyes I saw the chaos there. Rahan’s navy had struck Yarik’s fleet and was withdrawing after suffering terrible casualties. The fires they’d set to Yarik’s ships looked like they would burn for some time, but the victory has cost Sewin and Blathebed a great deal.
“Rahan isn’t worried I will kill everyone in Alsonvale?”
“The city has not submitted to him. I am to secure their loyalty and the archives they control, but it is a fool’s errand. I do not think Rahan would mind if you turned me and the city to ash.”
I tried to find Rahan at the Iron Arsenal but he was not there, and all the threads of the city were a jumble from my terrible touch.
“He is that angry with us?” I asked.
“I fear so. The only thing he cannot control is the magic rising around him. This is the second time you have upset his plans. I do not think he wanted to attack Yarik today, but this was the last time he could act with your perfect knowledge of his position.”
I didn’t want to talk about that anymore and looked back at the group that waited on us. “Who did I hurt besides Liv?”
“No one I know of. The three dead men are Hemari that were convinced you are a devil. It was—”
He lost his voice. His soul thrashed as if dying.
“Oh, Evand. You killed Hemari to protect me. Forgive me.”
It was not what I meant to say, but could not find a better words.
“Hush, no. Please,” he said with a chuckle, but then folded as if punched.
I took his arm and hugged him. “No. No. You’re okay, too. We’re all okay.”
“Is that what the rest of us sound like when we are trying to calm you down?”
His eyes met mine, tortured and exhausted. I nodded and we tried to laugh again. The sound of it was off, and behind it was all of our sadness. Tears welled in his eyes and broke down his face. His soul was on fire. He shook his head at himself and looked out across water.
Then he froze in place, wiped his eyes, and turned to me. “You were able to see all the way east to Aneth?”
“I saw everyone, everywhere. All fourteen million people in Zoviya.”
He slapped away his tears, took my hand, and sat us down upon the deck in the shadow of the rail. “Tell me everything.”
I didn’t know where to start and then it all spilled from me in a torrent. I told him about Zoviya’s many armies moving toward Bessradi, Barok marching into a trap, and Sikhek and Soma in the east. I told him about the Vesteal and their connection to magic and the world. I told him about the spirit I ridden upon and two that tried to kill us. I told him about the family in the east that was connected to Sikhek and this third spirit. I was almost yelling when I told him again about Barok’s Vesteal child all alone in the south, fleeing for its life from Hessier.
His soul hardened as I spoke. Always it had flopped around, this way and that as he struggled with petty things. By the time I was done it was fixed and stable as steel. I was very happy to see it.
“This third spirit is like you?” he asked.
“It sees the world the way I do. So can Sikhek, but he is very near death. Whatever Sikhek did to cause this spirit to break free, it nearly killed him. The spirit would not speak to me though, so I do not know what it wants or why I have the same vision it does.”
“The Spirit of the Earth tried to kill you? She is said to be the kind mother of us all.”
“She was as terrible as the dark one. They both want the world to die. They both hate us as much as they do each other.”
“Rahan and Avinda would never believe you. They are married to the Spirit of the Earth now. Even if we could speak with them, neither of them would hear a word spoken against Her. So much is in motion, Emi. What do we do?”
“I screamed at the world to help the child. Soma heard me, I think, and maybe others. The Vesteal must be saved, and both Spirits must be stopped. If Rahan will not hear us, we must make our own way.”
“Father and daughter against the world,” he said.
“A goddess and a king.”
We were quiet then, and I looked back at the high white walls of the palace. I found Rahan there, watching us go. And as we did, the connection between him and us faded to nothing.
47
General Leger Mertone
The Long Road
The march began with all the noises of a joyful city and youthful excitement. It pricked my ears like the sounds of an untended infant. Going to war inspired many follies, including parades. Great throngs gathered all along the forested road. Half the crowd was covered in long ribbons of every color. They twirled a
nd sang, thousands of them dancing in unison to the clapping and drumming. The spectacle of colors made no sense to me until I caught some pieces of their songs.
Those wearing ribbons were the parents of Enhedu, and they were celebrating our sacrifice. They were singing us to our deaths.
Barok retreated inside his carriage, leaving me to wave at the revelers. Clever liked it less, his smoky ears pressed flat as he stomped his iron hooves into the long road.
The singing and banging of the drums continued all the way out to the hillocks where we’d first stood against the Hessier. We paused there for Gern and General Oklas to lay flowers upon the ground where our soldiers had once killed each other. Then Gern fired an arrow up the hill, same as he had done that bitter day, and the parade’s one quiet moment of reflection was discarded for more cheering and carrying on.
When we got further east, the men of Khrim, Abodeen, and Thanin, broke for the coast and the barges that would ferry them to Almidi over the next ten days. None of us liked the separation or the delay, but we could not wait to ferry 64,000 men, nor could such a body move safely along the road.
It wasn’t until we started the army of Chaukai up into the foothills that the revelers turned back. I called a quick march after that and kept them at it until the last of the chatter fell away.
“You did not approve?” Gern asked when he joined me in the vanguard.
“How could you tell?”
“Barok broods. You used to glower. Now you smolder.”
“It’s going around,” I said and pointed up at the smoking peak. He laughed for my benefit and I asked, “The men are ready for the ash?”
“We’ve sanded the road in case it gets slick and every man has face wraps.”
I knew these details. We were in danger of chatting. We’d done it rarely—never perhaps. “You’ve grown,” I said.
“My father would be glad to hear it. I’m not sure Fana would agree. Nice day, though.”
I nodded. Silence followed.
“Love the new carriages,” he tried and gestured to the line of them that carried the young druids. Fana rode beside the first, a bodyman to Evela the way I used to see to Barok. She seemed content but Gern’s furrowed forehead left me unsure.
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