Faoii-Lyn knelt there. No longer a howling warrior with fiery wings, but instead a broken human girl with a disheveled braid and teary eyes. Long strands of silky hair fell across her face and lay over the ashen corpse of Mei-Faoii. The shaft had been removed, but Kaiya could still see the entry wound of a single arrow in the young girl’s forehead. Dark purple spider webs spread over her pale skin where the poison had left its mark, causing the area around the eyes to swell. Faoii-Lyn had not been able to completely shut them, and two dark orbs stared, unseeing, at the ceiling.
“Faoii-Lyn . . .” Kaiya took another step toward the grieving girl, but she could not will her legs to support her. They buckled again, and Tendaji caught her. With a worried glance, he finally gave up on custom and draped one of Kaiya’s arms across his shoulders. Kaiya could only stare at Lyn, willing all the emotions she felt to color her face.
After a long time, Faoii-Lyn buried Mei’s face in her chest and raised her eyes to Kaiya, seeking comfort. Instead, she saw Kaiya’s trembling stance and bloody armor, and Lyn’s face broke with shame.
“I did this to you. I didn’t finish belting on your breastplate. I was supposed to be your shield sister . . .” Her voice cracked, and she sank wearily to the floor, still hugging her sister’s corpse to her chest. “I have failed at all of the things that I was meant to do as Faoii. I am sorry.”
Kaiya broke away from Tendaji and made her way to her lieutenant so she could lay a hand on the girl’s shoulder.
“There is no shame in what you’ve done this day, Faoii-Lyn.” Lyn only hung her head in response. The silence that followed spread into eternity.
Finally, Lyn’s broken, almond-eyed gaze rose until it bored into Kaiya’s skull. The rage and fire in those shadowed orbs crackled in the blood-soaked evening, and Kaiya realized that the fury and power in them was real, not borne of the visions she did not understand. Lyn’s voice was hard and cold.
“You will stop these Croeli bastards?” Kaiya nodded. “I give you my word.”
Lyn looked down at her sweet sister’s swollen, purple face one more time before lifting her eyes and brushing away tears with angry determination. She rose steadily to face Kaiya.
“From here on, wherever you go, I’m coming with you.”
*~*
The next few hours swirled around Kaiya in a confused jumble. Emery’s report. The archers were hit the hardest. Eighty-seven dead.
One hundred twenty-seven Faoii to bury.
Soldiers carried in the bodies of those that had fallen. The Faoii lined the walls; the Croeli were heaped upon each other.
Two hundred ninety-two Croeli. They’d been sent to destroy us completely.
But they failed. It was at a great cost, but we have earned this victory.
The others broke after the one on top of the watchtower fell. He was creepy. Too still. Ghostlike.
Faoii-Kaiya, will you offer a prayer?
A room full of dead. Tears and lamentation. Oaths and sworn vengeance. Pride. Strength. Determination.
The soldiers must sleep. Burials will begin tomorrow.
Faoii-Kaiya, are you well?
Thank you, Faoii-Kaiya. Your song saved those of us that were at death’s door.
Goddess bless you.
You have led us to this victory. We will follow you anywhere.
Prayers and Oaths. An order to rest. Cots set up when the barracks filled. Exhausted soldiers lying prone on the floor.
Bless you. Bless you.
Bless you.
Then silence.
Kai, can you hear me? A shake. Kaiya?
The people around her continued their sickening dance in Kaiya’s vision. The firelight hurt her eyes. She tried to respond, but her tongue was heavy in her throat. She tried to stand up— When did I sit down? —but the room tilted. She felt nauseated. Hot. She shivered as she tried to get her bearings. Where is the fire coming from? She was on fire. She had to be. But she couldn’t even muster the strength to scream.
Emery, bring that torch here.
She clenched her teeth and bit back nausea as her leathers were peeled away from her sticky, sweat-slick skin. Why weren’t they putting the fire out?
Goddess—she’s been poisoned!
Emery, get a clean blanket on her cot. Bring water.
Suddenly, Kaiya was floating. The heartbeat again. Was that a bell in the distance? At least it was far away now. Quiet.
Tendaji! The Cailivale watch has been alerted. They’re coming now.
Deal with them, Lyn. Tell them what has happened here. Let the word spread. Others will come to the call.
What about Kai?
We’ll take care of her. Go.
Kaiya floated. The bells receded and a song took their place.
Quiet. Soothing. Kai had heard that song before. When?
Preoii-Aleena was there, singing a gentle melody. Her hand on Kaiya’s forehead was cool and soft. The song drifted to Kaiya from across time and space. It was something she remembered from long ago.
Pretty little Kaiya, Kaiya . . . Pretty little sweetling.
Pretty little Kaiya, Kaiya . . . May your pain always be fleeting.
Pretty little Kaiya, Kaiya . . .
Pretty little Kaiya, Kaiya . . .
21
When Kaiya woke up, her return to consciousness felt like swimming through deep water. Even when she surfaced, her skin was still clammy with salty residue and her limbs felt weighted. The chilled air coming through the open window made her shiver.
Tendaji was there, his back turned toward her simple cot as he hummed a familiar tune under his breath. But there was an agitated edge to the sound. Worry.
Kaiya finally found the strength to speak. “Tendaji.” Her thready whisper sounded almost alien. “How long . . .?” Tendaji spun toward her, his pale blue eyes flooding with relief even as he set his lips into a grim line.
“Four days. The funerals have concluded, and Cailivale has recognized the Faoii army as a sanctioned militia. Our numbers have already grown since the Croeli defeat.” He smiled as he moved black ringlets out of her eyes. “The world seeks justice. You have offered it to them with your army, Kai.”
Kaiya shut her eyes as she digested what he’d said. Minutes passed before she heard her brother whisper her name, worry creeping into his voice again. She forced her eyes back open.
“I missed the burials. Those poor women . . .” Tears wet her cheeks as Kaiya turned her head to the wall in shame and anguish. Tendaji stood by silently, letting her grieve.
“The numbers could have been much worse, Kaiya,” he finally whispered reassuringly. “You saved many of the soldiers with your song that night. Even those that had only slight injuries would have fallen to the criukli poison without your aid. But . . .” He fell quiet. The silence stretched for so long that Kaiya at last had to turn her head back to face him, afraid that he had disappeared into the disconcerting calm. He stared at her with a piercing gaze.
“Kaiya, this is very important. Do you still hear the bells you mentioned?” Kaiya closed her eyes and listened.
“No. They’ve faded.”
“Thank the Goddess.” Tendaji wiped a hand over his face. “Croeli-Thinir has grown stronger. He doesn’t need to be physically present anymore to get into your mind. Had I known . . .” He fell silent for a moment before rubbing a hand over his eyes. “When you refused to heal yourself with your song, I thought you’d lost the fight against him. I thought . . .”
“Oh, Tendaji.” Kaiya let her head sink back into the pillow, eyes closed against the bright light of the candle. Her head ached. “You think I’d turn on you now, after all we’ve been through?” She felt his eyes on her, but she couldn’t find the strength to meet them. She tried again to reassure him. “I did try to heal myself.
After I finished with the others. I just . . . I couldn’t keep it up for long enough. I’m no Preoii.” She could feel Tendaji studying her. He stood in contemplative silence for a moment, mulling over her
words.
Then he chuckled. “You saved the infantry first?”
Kaiya opened her eyes again, looking for whatever it was he found humorous. He shook his head, still smiling. “Pretty little Kai. What good will you be to us if you do not take care of your most basic needs?” Kaiya rolled her eyes, groaning when even that hurt.
Still smiling, Tendaji turned away, busying himself near the tub of water that had been set next to the bed. Kaiya tried not to notice that the tub’s rim had been dyed a rusty crimson—an indication that bloody cloths had been rinsed in its tin frame. A moment later, Tendaji turned back, his hands hidden in a web of cloth bandages.
“Are you able to sit up?”
Kaiya tried, but at first her shaking arms would not support her weight. She dissuaded Tendaji’s supporting hand and tried again, forcing her trembling, resistant limbs to shove her up despite their protests. The pain in her side exploded, and sparks shattered her vision as she gasped for breath. The world spun, and this time she could not keep Tendaji from steadying her with a sturdy hand. “Easy, Kai. Easy. Lie back, or you’ll pull out your stitches.” Kaiya hadn’t realized that she’d tried to curl into a ball against the agony. She let Tendaji ease her back onto the pillows he had propped up. When he was sure she wasn’t going to faint, he diligently began redressing her side and leg.
As he worked, he hummed.
“That melody,” Kai finally ventured. “I’ve heard it before.”
“Have you?” His smile was soft and understated.
“I keep remembering . . . Preoii-Aleena. She must have sung it to me when I was younger.”
Tendaji stopped his bandaging and held Kaiya’s gaze. “Your Preoii? Are you sure?” That quiet smile again.
“It must be. But she’s different than I remember. She seems so kind. So . . . happy.”
Tendaji clucked his tongue at her. “Pretty little Kaiya. Think harder. Focus. Is the woman in your memories really the woman in your monastery?”
Kaiya thought, humming the tune as she did. “The eyes are different than Preoii-Aleena’s were. Not as sad. Brighter. Her cheeks are fuller. Her hair has more red in it. Her smile . . .” Kaiya jerked upward, hissing as she pulled at her ribs again. Tendaji wrapped an arm around her and started to lower her back to the pillows, but she clung to his sleeve and stared at him. “Can it be?”
Tendaji smiled. “Siblings in our family do tend to look alike.”
“Our mother. I didn’t remember what she looked like. So beautiful . . .” Unable to lie back down, Kaiya maneuvered her legs over the edge of the cot and sat staring at the span of memories that stretched out before her. Tendaji made no objection and went to work at redressing her throbbing calf. As he stripped off the soiled bandages, Kaiya noticed that the reopened gash was packed with chinol. An image of the Goddess statue flashed in her mind for a moment, but she realized that this plant was different from the one depicted in the statue. Similar, yes, but the leaves were not quite as broad. Not as flat.
“Then Preoii-Aleena was . . .”
“Our mother’s sister. Mother always did want you to call her ‘Auntie.’ But you weren’t able to speak yet when we left you at the monastery.”
Left me. “I . . . I don’t understand. Why abandon us? Why. . .?” Kaiya broke off as a sudden, violent shiver racked her body. Tendaji placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Her arms trembled and sweat broke out on her forehead. His concerned eyes were soft and gentle.
“Abandoned us, Kai? Look at you. You have become a stronger woman than most mothers can ever dream for their daughters. You are Faoii. What more could Mother offer you than that chance?”
“But she separated us. She left you with the Croeli. We hate each other.”
“Do we? I thought we were getting along decently well.” He smiled at her as he gathered up the dirty bandages. “I can elbow you more often if you’d like. Address you as witch, maybe?”
Kaiya gave him a hard look. “You know what I mean.”
“I do. But I think Mother knew that the dividing line between Croeli and Faoii was to be erased one way or another. She loved our father, after all. And he was a Croeli clan leader. Aunt Aleena never did like that.”
“Clan leader? Like Thinir?” Tendaji’s eyes iced over.
“No. Thinir killed his brother and usurped his position while I was scouting far from home.” His hands clenched into fists. “I didn’t even know that our uncle had taken over until I returned to the ranks months later. I’d have been there sooner, but . . . I’d taken a detour to watch your monastery. I thought Father would want to know how you’d grown . . .” He stared into the distance for a moment before shaking his head violently.
“When I returned, they offered me my title—Croeli-Tendaji-Thinir, a lieutenant in his army. I knew I could never carry that title. I hadn’t hated Uncle before, but I could not follow him. It took me three hours to plot my escape from the clan. It started with me offering allegiance to my mother’s Goddess—and ended with my criukli in Croeli-Vilikir-Thinir’s chest.”
Now it was Kaiya’s turn to offer comfort. She rested a shaky hand on Tendaji’s arm. The steel in his eyes faded, and he continued, “That was almost two years ago. Right after the attack on Lyn’s monastery. It’s possible that is why your own battle was so delayed. After my betrayal, the Croeli would have had to start over and verify that my previous reports were true.” He smiled. “I’m glad of it now. The extra years gave you a chance to grow. You were more capable of defending yourself by the time they moved against your people. Though . . . I wish I had been able to warn you of what was to come.” He fell into a contemplative silence.
“What did you do after you left?” Kaiya asked, stretching her stiff leg.
“After that I traveled in search of the other Croeli tribes. I found a few of them, but none seemed willing to break free of Thinir’s influence. I was forced to retreat from the lands of my own people many times after they learned that I was willing to betray their god-empowered leader. A few individuals listened, though, and broke away from the others. We did what we could to counteract the mind-dominating magic that Thinir was only just beginning to dabble in. One group seemed close to a breakthrough before I left, and I did everything I could to support their efforts. If nothing else, we wanted those who joined his cause to join of their own accord.
“Eventually, though, our uncle got too powerful. He swore that he would slay your people and claim your lands, whatever it took. So I came back. I didn’t want him to do to your people what he did to mine.”
“That’s when you went to Lucius.” Tendaji nodded, absently rubbing at his side.
“Maybe I should have gone to the capital earlier, though I doubt it would have made a difference. Lucius was Thinir’s puppet by the time I arrived, and he was only too happy to remind me of my treachery.” Kaiya winced as she remembered the bulging rib and whip marks Tendaji had sported when they’d first met. Tendaji saw the grimace, and his eyes shot to her injured leg and side. When he saw no new injuries, he leaned back again. “The rest you know, I think.”
“I am sure that Mother never wanted any of that, Tendaji. You would have made her proud.”
Tendaji chuckled in response. “You speak only in past tense when you talk about her her. Did you notice that?”
Kaiya’s eyes widened and she moved to stand, astonished. “She’s alive? Where?”
Tendaji shook his head and gently pushed her back down to the bed.
“I do not know. Preoii-Aleena was the last one to speak with her. It’s possible that she left for reasons that we aren’t supposed to understand.” He sighed. “You have to realize, Kaiya: Mother knew more about the way the world—the true world, Illindria’s world—worked than we do. She could…see things that we couldn’t. She spoke of it like a ghost world, here but not here. Overlapping with the world we saw. She said it was what the Goddess sees all the time.” Kaiya’s heart faltered. She was suddenly very glad to be sitting. All of the superimposed im
ages she had seen before danced in front of her like a ghostly ballet.
Tendaji was immediately kneeling in front of her, her suddenly pale features reflecting in his worried eyes. “Perhaps I should have waited to tell you all of this until you were stronger. Lie down, Kaiya. We’ll continue this conversation after you’ve rested.” Kaiya only shook her head, resisting the gentle pressure he placed on her shoulder.
The Great Illindria had been showing her the way since Resting Oak. For the first time, she was certain that there was a set path to victory, and she had been following it instead of just blindly swimming with a current she could neither battle nor cross. Those were visions sent by the Great Illindria, not Kaiya’s own mind breaking under the weight of everything that had happened. How could she rest now, when there was still so much to do? When Illindria needed her to keep going? She looked back up, her mind racing. “What is the status of the Croeli army?”
The Last Faoii Page 17
