The Croeli’s sobbing laughter echoed in the distance.
*~*
This victory was not like the one in Cailivale. While dozens of women had fallen there, the majority had risen again, virtually unscathed. Faoii-Kaiya’s song had saved all but a few. If only that were true now.
There were no smiles or high spirits at the end of this battle, no feelings of accomplishment or pride. Only grim determination, depression, and regret as the survivors gathered the bodies of those less fortunate. Broken, limping women with haunted eyes were led away from those whose eyes still stared, unseeing, at the greyness overhead. Others were carried, unable to rise above their sorrow. Still others remained silent and drawn as they stared down at the lifeless corpses of their sisters before bending over and moving the bodies to where the mass pyre was being constructed. Crows cawed their delight as they landed and feasted, and the weary Faoii were not always able to keep them away. Many of the fallen that were added to the pyre were eyeless in their parting.
It was nearly noon on the second day when the last of the Faoii bodies had been laid to rest. The air was clogged with sickening, flesh-scented smoke and the wails of Faoii that had finally broken against the tide of angst and woe. Lyn pulled her lips together grimly, blinking smoke-induced tears from her eyes as she took stock of what provisions had been salvaged from the wrecked wagons. Though there was less than she had hoped, the death toll was disproportionately larger. There would be more than enough to survive on until they could decide what to do. She didn’t know how to feel about that.
Asanali stepped from the trees, her bare feet soundless as she glided to Lyn’s side. The bronze-skinned Faoii’s eyes were downcast and shadowed with dark smudges, her copper hair listless and limp. When she spoke, her voice was barely more than a whisper.
“Many boughs have been broken here. Will you cut all of them so cleanly as to let new roots take hold?”
Lyn sneered and rolled her eyes, hoping that her tears were not obvious. “Goddess’s girdle,” she hissed under her breath. “What are you trying to say now?”
Asanali drew herself to her full height and spoke slowly, as though to a child still learning to how to use full sentences.
“There are many left on the field. New life cannot grow if they are left there—the ground will sense your hatred and shy from it.” She grasped Lyn’s arm with a gentle hand. “I know that they wear the faces of snarling beasts and hatred, but they lie there nonetheless. Their eyes hold no joy, no sorrow. What are they waiting to see?”
“They’ll see whatever Illindria is willing to offer them now that they’ve betrayed Her. Isn’t that obvious?”
Asanali released an exasperated sigh. “No, not with those eyes—the mortal ones. The ones made of blood and heart.”
“What? They’re dead. They don’t see anything.”
“The world sees them. And it sees you. Will you offer the gaze that it seeks? Will you look past the snarling beast eyes and see the eyes of men instead? Men who could not hear the World Watcher, because the bronze screams rose in pitch?”
“Blasted heart, woman! I have no idea what you’re trying to say!” Lyn spun to face Asanali, glaring at the moonlit eyes that stared back so earnestly.
“She means, are you goin’ to bury ’em, burn ’em, or leave ’em?” Eili hollered from the campfire a little ways away. “Are we going to show our hatred for ’em by leavin’ ’em where they lie, or are we going to offer them a true funeral?”
Lyn balked. “They killed most of us. They almost killed all of us. Why should we do them any favors?”
“Well, if that crazy Croeli was tellin’ the truth, then they didn’t have much of a choice, now, did they? They might be victims as much as us.”
“And She Who Speaks in Dreams still whispers to them. Cuts through the cloud of sleep and death. The broken wolf said as much. She still loves them. Cannot we love them as well?”
Lyn tensed her shoulders and narrowed her eyes. She was about to release a torrent of colorful language at the idea, but then she bit her tongue. She could smell sunflowers.
Lyn sighed. “Yes, Asanali. We can honor them too. Tell the women to construct another pyre.”
31
The remains of the last Croeli were little more than grey and black ashes dancing in the smog-choked air when a solitary figure crested one of the hills on the other side of the valley. The hunched silhouette stood out against the dreary backdrop of soot and sorrow, though it flowed through the scene like water through a too-fast current—liquid, but jerky in unexpected places.
Asanali was the first person to spot the approaching form as it stumbled toward them from over a distant hill. At first, she thought he was only another of Thinir’s wolves, a pack member late to the fight, but she recognized the man soon after. She pointed him out to Lyn.
“Tendaji returns. He looks wounded.”
Lyn and Asanali rode to him together, and Asanali caught him as he stumbled and fell. Even Lyn could not hide her apprehension as he struggled to stand, his legs and torso slick with blood and angry bruises.
“Tendaji, what happened? Where’s Kai?”
Tendaji’s shoulders shook as he spoke through clenched teeth. “They killed her,” he whispered, the words sounding strangled in his throat.
Lyn gaped, unbelieving. Tendaji slowly dragged his head up to meet her gaze. His fury, anguish, and regret were palpable as he shuddered out the next sentences, his words dripping venom and grief. “They killed her. A criukli through the stomach. I tried to stop them, but the tonicloran . . .” He choked and staggered. He leaned heavily on Asanali’s horse until he’d regained his breath enough to continue. “They used my blood to find Thinir. I know where they’re going but”—another gasping breath— “he’s immune to their blades. It will be a slaughter.”
Lyn’s jaw tightened. She felt a brutal cry rise from her chest as she thought of Faoii-Kaiya, their leader, their savior, their friend, the only person after Jade…
Dead.
The angry gasp broke from her lips in clipped, strangled syllables. “Let it be a slaughter, then.” She felt no pity, no remorse. “We need to watch out for our own first. Starting with you. Let’s get back to camp.”
Asanali wasted no time in treating Tendaji once they were back in their encampment. The others waited anxiously for her to finish her administrations, pacing or sitting near the campfire with agitated eyes and wringing hands. A universal sigh of relief escaped them when the bronze-skinned nomad took her place at the edge of the campfire once more. Asanali spoke quietly as she used snow to clean the blood from her fingers. “His wounds are sealed. They had already been sewn together once, then pulled apart again in his passage here.”
“What caused them?” Lyn tried not to sound overly anxious, but she could not stop pacing. Eili and Emery sat quietly, the latter having woken up in better spirits several hours before. His good humor had been stripped away, however, at the sight of Tendaji’s blood-soaked body and Kaiya’s complete absence.
“Unnatural claws. Blades. Harsher tools. This was not done by the creatures of the forests between here and his old tribe’s den.”
“By man, then.” Eili spit into the fire. “Is there any sign of poison? Criukli? Tonicloran?”
“No. His wounds were meant to hurt, not kill.”
Lyn narrowed her eyes and continued her agitated pacing. “Torture. What seditious bastard would resort to that?” She snarled. “His own damned people. He went there trusting their blasted loyalty, and they tortured him for it. Tortured him.” She cast worried, angry glances toward the wagon that Tendaji currently resided in, having fallen to exhaustion even before he had reached the camp. “Why? What were they looking for? Entertainment? Revenge?” She kicked at a tree in frustration, her boot striking its trunk with a resounding crack. “Blades! Why did he trust them?”
Asanali spread her hands. “They did leave him alive. They healed his wounds with care and sent him to once again join our cour
se. Had they wished to, they could have cut his branch rather than only carving into it.”
“Like they did to Faoii-Kaiya?” Lyn bit back. The others fell silent.
“They’re goin’ after Thinir,” Faoii-Eili finally said. “I ain’t willin’ to call ’em our friends, but they are the enemy of our enemy.”
“It doesn’t sound like it will do any good, though. If what Kai—” Emery stopped, closing his eyes. He tried again. “If the stories are true, Thinir can’t be hurt by normal blades. Tendaji’s old tribe will barely slow him down.”
“They might be able to cut a hole through his army. Get us right up next to ’im.”
Lyn shook her head. “No good. Without knowing Thinir’s weakness, we’d just fall like those in Kai’s monastery, our blades ringing off his skin.”
Asanali sat quietly, contemplating. “She Who Speaks in Dreams knows the way to cut him down,” she said finally. “The dark god’s servant learned his sorcery from those beyond the life pond’s veil, where the Carrier of Eternal Blade and all those who rise against Her sleep. The answer waits there.”
Eili sneered, “Don’t be stupid, girl. That ain’t no answer. No one learns secrets like that without dyin’ first.”
Asanali only shrugged. “The wolf did.”
That made everyone fall silent. She was right. Thinir had found a way to communicate directly with the gods in order to gain his invincibility and the secret of his Blinking. It was possible.
“He has taught the secret to his pack, too,” Asanali continued. “They pass between the life waters—through the veil in giant leaps. Though it is quick, like a swallow through the branches of a tree. Too fast to see what we need to see. And it dulls their eyes and minds each time. But he holds the secret to the Tapestry nonetheless.” She sighed down at the ground, watching the moonlight shimmer against a patch of snow. “If the horned god knows this imperfect passage into the Tapestry, the Carrier of the Eternal Blade, the War Watcher, She Who Speaks in Dreams . . . surely She knows the correct path.”
Eili frowned at her fantoii. “Ah, the Tapestry. The Oath always made it sound like we were destined for great things. Like we couldn’t fail. ‘We are the Weavers of the Tapestry.’”
“‘We see the threads through all the world and guide them with the Goddess’s eye,’” Lyn responded immediately. Eili nodded, her frown growing deeper as she thought. After a moment, Lyn ventured, “What is it?”
“I dunno. Some story that my Preoii used to tell.” Eili’s one blue eye stared into the distance as she pondered. “The Weavers weren’t always a metaphor. They were an actual group of Faoii— well, Preoii—handpicked by the Goddess…” She scrunched her eyebrows together. “They watched the Eternal Tapestry . . . and used what they found there to govern our Order.” She shook her head and shrugged. “It was a long time ago. Before her time, and certainly before mine. I always thought it was just a rumor, but… I don’t know. She always seemed so disappointed when she talked about the Weavers. Always wanted to be one herself, I guess but the initiation was banned. Somethin’ about bein’ too dangerous.”
Lyn rolled her eyes. “There are no initiations in the Order.”
“I know that, girl! I was just musin’ about what Asanali said.”
“Wait a moment, ma’am.” Emery had sat up, and he treaded onto unfamiliar Faoii territory carefully. “Faoii-Lyn, when we were in the enclave still, you mentioned that tonicloran was banned because too many people were getting hurt while trying to achieve ‘enlightenment.’”
“Yeah. Stupid people used to think that they could see the Goddess’s world if they survived tonicloran poisoning. Most of them were right—but it was a one-way street.”
“The Croeli you interrogated said that Thinir used tonicloran to make his soldiers Blink. If it’s not true, then how would rumors like that start?”
“Who knows? Same way any other rumor starts. Someone hears something and it spreads. Doesn’t make any of it true.”
“Don’t be daft, girl,” Eili broke in. “You know that all rumors that last more than a fortnight have at least a grain of truth to ’em. The Faoli’s onta somethin’.” Her blue eye glittered in the firelight.
“What if that’s how Preoii became Weavers? Survivin’ tonicloran?”
Asanali tried to speak, but Lyn cut her off. “That’s insane! No one would willingly subject herself to that torture. Did you see what happened to those girls on that field?”
“Kai . . .” Emery swallowed and tried again. “Kaiya said that the Goddess’s world is everywhere at once. It’s next to everything. If you had the chance to gain that kind of power, to see everything . . . do you think you’d be willing to suffer a few hours of pain?”
“Not like that. That’s . . .” Lyn shook her head. “Even if the Croeli are using the tonicloran to do their weird Blinking thing, why would they also be using it to kill those that they want to save from Thinir’s influence? It can’t be Thinir’s main weapon and his bane.”
Again Asanali opened her mouth to speak, and again she was cut off, this time by Eili. “Why not? The crazy Croeli said that it’s mostly a blood ritual that gives Thinir power. The tonicloran might just be part of it. A catalyst. And like most catalysts, if the balance ain’t exactly right . . .” Eili trailed off, looking once more to the dark silhouette of the pyre on the horizon.
“Hear me!” Asanali’s voice was barely louder than its regular soft contralto, but it carried with it the full strength of the Faoii, making the others jerk back in surprise. When she spoke again, her voice was once again at its original pitch. “The Carrier of the Eternal Blade is of two parts. She is light and dark, sword and shield, War Watcher and Dream Speaker. She is the sun and the moon, the drowning flood and the life-giving rain. Her instruments are also two flowers of the same root. The tonicloran is both a weapon and a gift.”
Eili and Lyn stared at her. No one had ever heard Asanali speak so much at one time.
“She’s right,” a voice said from behind them, and the group whipped around to see Tendaji approach. He walked stiffly, carefully. “My old tribe is using it as both a poison and a window to the Goddess’s world. It can be both.”
“You should not be awake yet.” Asanali’s voice was disapproving. Tendaji held a hand up and continued toward the circle.
“I heard your conversation. This is important.” The wounded fighter sat on one of the available logs and rested his arms on his knees. His eyes were intense as he looked at each of his companions in turn. “The tonicloran isn’t just a poison. Thinir experimented with it until he could reach the other side of whatever veil separates us from death. He learned the secrets of his immortality there, and he uses it to make doorways for his soldiers. Amaenel, one of my old allies, used it in a dark ritual to see through Illindria’s eye and find Thinir. Thinir’s soldiers use it to drown out his influence when they are struck down. It is a poison, but if it’s used in small amounts and under the right conditions, it is also . . . a gateway. A key.” He paused, his pale eyes smoldering in the firelight. "And that makes it the most dangerous substance I have ever heard of.”
“It has always been such,” Asanali said knowingly. “It is a venomous panacea, filled with glory and death. My people knew of its secrets long ago. We pulled it out by the roots when we discovered it. Destroyed it when we could. Too few can use it as it is meant to be used, and we thought it was better to remove it entirely than let young pups with ideas of glory try and die. But we watched those beyond their stone walls meddle with what they could not control. Too many died trying to fight their way to the sides of gods.” She shook her head. “It is wrong that somehow the horned wolves have gained even a sprig of the power available there. They didn’t even have to see the door with their mortal eyes first. It is an affront to the War Watcher.”
“Wait. Are you saying that normally you’d have to see the Goddess’s world with your own eyes before you can use the tonicloran and become a Weaver?” Lyn’s voice was incredulo
us. “That’s even crazier than the last thing you said.”
“It is as the story goes, though I do not know how the night wolf swam across the world pool without seeing the path first. Maybe these ‘experiments’ that Tendaji mentioned—”
“We ain’t experimentin’ with no tonicloran!” Eili exclaimed. Asanali shrugged and fell silent.
Lyn nodded fiercly. “She’s right. And there’s definitely never been someone who could just see the Goddess’s world without some sort of magic. Not even children’s stories have those kinds of crazy dreams.”
“No…No. They’re not crazy dreams at all.” Tendaji rubbed his palms against his weary eyes. “Our mother was able to do it. I think our aunt, too. Maybe, if she’d been given the chance, Kai could have…” He fell silent for a moment, staring at the stars on the horizon. The snow around his feet swirled a little in the night breeze. “Kai might have learned how to do it, too, if she’d been given enough time.”
The Last Faoii Page 25
