Identity Revealed: The Tue-Rah Chronicles

by Butler, J. M.

  Something in the air changed as well. The scent shifted from roses, heather, and fen blossoms to a heavy sesame oil tinged with…lavender?

  Inale scowled, confused. Had the Ayamin returned from maneuvers? A large group had left to finish some training and initiation processes. Joseph had been with them. When time allowed, he would come to see her, especially after a mission like this. And he always had a new fact to tell her, whether it was about how hummingbirds wove their nests down by the river or how the colors of a thrum-tailed butterfly depended on the leaves it ate as a caterpillar. But if he and the other Ayamin were back, why would the bears sound so angry or the horses and mawnores so alarmed?

  Inale climbed up onto the ledge and grabbed a branch of a nearby tree for support. The cool marble chilled her bare feet as she edged closer. There was nothing out there but the stables, the branyan trees, and the palace walls. Even that was strange. She should have seen at least a few guards and perhaps a couple stable hands finishing up their nightly chores. Sometimes she watched them when she didn't want to sleep, but tonight there was no one.

  Hopping down from the balcony, Inale hurried out to the marble hall outside her room. The great windows were uncurtained, allowing swathes of moonlight to cover the pale-ivory floor. The scent of sesame oil was out here as well. Inale wrinkled her nose, disliking the smell. She disliked not knowing even more.

  Padding through the hall, she reached the guard point. Beh and Hheatha, two of the Ayamin, stood on guard. "What are you doing awake, Princess?" Beh asked. He yawned, covering his mouth with a brown-gloved hand.

  The scent intensified. Little feet clicked in the distance, one after the other in rapid succession. "Do you hear that?" Inale asked.

  "Hear what?" Hheatha tilted his head, searching the hall. "I don't hear anything. It's probably your imagination, Princess. Go back to sleep."

  "Yes," Beh said. "Go back to—oh!" Another yawn forced its way out, and his eyes watered.

  Inale frowned, still hearing the clicks. They had almost vanished, but the scent remained as strong as freshly misted perfume. "I hear it," she said. She expected the Ayamin to argue with her, but both were yawning and struggling to stay upright, their faces pale against their high blue collars.

  Turning, Inale followed the clicking feet. She couldn't tell whether they came from the ceiling or the walls or the floor. Sometimes it seemed that they were ahead of her, running along under the tapestries. Other times, they seemed to be on the ceiling, scurrying and stopping. But they always stayed just ahead of her.

  As she reached a corner, Inale discovered Marletta, one of the attendants, lying on the floor. She was curled up, her arms wrapped around a pile of soft towels as if they were a down-filled pillow.

  Inale knelt beside Marletta and shook her shoulder. "Are you all right?" she asked.

  Marletta didn't stir. But the clicking continued, growing fainter. Pushing herself to her feet and picking up her pace, Inale followed. The sound of her own breath and footsteps almost drowned out the clicks. So Inale stopped and listened, her curiosity growing. There were fewer now. But then when she reached another corner, more clicks joined in. The number changed randomly, but the clicks either increased or decreased at the corners of the halls.

  Inale could never see what made the sounds, and not one of the torches or candles were lit. As she passed one set near a tall clear-paned window, smoke trailed from the thick white candles. Did someone just put it out? she wondered.

  Her inquisitiveness roused even more, Inale hurried along until she reached the Great Hall. Dozens of people lay sleeping, some draped over tables and some on the floor. Whatever had happened, she had just missed it. She hadn't even heard the crumbling of fabric or a person falling. Eabar, one of the chief stewards, sat on the low marble staircase, a pleased smile on his round, white-bearded face.

  Hurrying to his side, Inale gripped his shoulder. "Eabar, what's happened?"

  "Such strange folk they are. All blue," Eabar said, his voice slurring with sleep before his eyes sagged shut.

  Inale stood there, a strange uneasiness creeping over her. What had done this? And why? Should she be excited to be awake or frightened that something was putting everyone else to sleep? She scratched at one of the coverings on her hand. Her parents would know what to do. Surely they would be awake. Or at least they would wake up.

  Inale ran from the Great Hall to the Grand Staircase. The curved marble structure spiraled up to all four floors, but her parents' bedroom and private chambers were on the third. The spindles cast long shadows from the moonlight. They made her heart jump. Here the moonlight did not shine in so clearly. Shadows swathed the floors, and every Ayamin soldier she found had fallen asleep against the walls or on the floor. Even Tobil, the wolf hound, lay sleeping in the middle of the rug and not in his usual cubby by the massive fireplace in the Great Hall.

  The clicking continued along with the strange scent. That scent had grown strong enough to block out all others, including the spilled spiced wine by her parents' chambers where a servant had fallen asleep.

  Grasping the handle to the door, Inale thrust it open and ran inside, grateful to be so near to safety. Here the scent of cedar and rose oil combated the sesame, and all was silent. Her parents' large gold bed sat at the far end of the room under a great silken canopy. But…they were gone.

  The sheets and blankets lay crumbled and bunched as if they had gotten up in a hurry, but both her father's and mother's dressing robes hung on the cherry wood stands.

  A strange voice spoke her name. "Inale…"

  Inale turned to see a man in the doorway, standing in the shaft of moonlight from the eastern window. Far taller than her father, he had long black hair pushed behind his left ear. On this ear, he wore an elaborate interlinked ornament with multiple parts and numerous markings. It covered almost his entire ear, and at the central point, it separated into four rods that merged together again on the outer edge. It was similar to WroOth's yet distinct.

  This stranger was a man of contrasts, with sharp blue eyes that glinted in the moonlight and very light skin. He wore long black and green garments that left only his upper neck and face exposed, a black breastplate glistening over his chest. A slender black cylinder with silver designs carved into it hung from his thick belt, a large hunting knife on the other side.

  "Who are you?" Inale asked. "Do you know where my parents are?"

  "Your parents had to leave."

  The man stepped inside the room, leaving the door open. For a moment, he studied her. His expression was quite serious. No hint of laughter or mirth warmed his face or curled at his lips. If her father had been there, she would have probably hidden behind him to watch this man. But her father wasn't there, so she stepped behind the large cedar and iron chest.

  He tilted his head slightly. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Inale."

  "How do you know my name? I've never seen you."

  The man smiled. "But I have seen you. And I also know that Inale is only your Libyshan name. Your Neyeb name is Kilona. In fact, I know just about everything there is to know about you."

  "Who are you?" Inale asked again.

  "I don't know if I should tell you." The man sat on the pale-blue settee, continuing to watch her. "They've told you so many things that aren't true. You would probably be afraid of me, even though you shouldn't be."

  Inale didn't know if she believed that. She stayed behind the chest as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. Drawing back a little farther, she tried to keep her voice strong. "Are you…one of the Paras?" Something about him seemed familiar. As if she had met him before.

  The man nodded. "I am. But you don't need to hide from me. I'm not going to hurt you."

  Inale stayed where she was, wondering which one of the Paras he was. Not that it mattered. She was the Third Nalenth, and she would have to stop all three.

  Her heart beat faster, and her palms sweat. I'm not ready, she thought. I don't know how! Her par
ents didn't even let her play with daggers or train with weapons because she was a blood child. They weren't going to let her start training until she could control her "urges" as her mother put it. But here was a Para.

  The man stood, the settee creaking with the movement. He walked around to the other side of the chest. "You shouldn't hide from me, Inale." He crouched on the rug, only a few feet away from her. "Your parents mean well, but they don't know what they’re talking about. They've said you are a blood child, have they not?"

  Inale nodded. Her fingernails dug into the top of the chest.

  "And what do you think that means?"

  "It means I can't play with the other children."

  Inale wasn't sure where else to go. Her parents' bed was not high enough off the ground for her to slide under.

  She stood again, now a little taller than eye level with the man. He didn't appear so frightening at this point. The sense of familiarity had increased.

  "And why can't you play with the other children?" the man asked.

  "Because I might kill them." Inale looked down at the polished wood floor, shame pushing against the fear.

  "Your parents think the blood curse means that you will hurt other people, don't they? I know that you know I'm a Vawtrian, and you believe that when you grow up, you'll have to kill my brothers and me. But none of that is true. You aren't a killer, Inale, and that burden isn't one you should bear. You are not evil. Do you want to know what the prophecies have to say about you?"

  Inale nodded.

  "The prophecies say that the Third Nalenth has an additional burden to bear. She must not only restore the Tue-Rah on Eiram, she must go on to end the conflict between the Paras and the Central Worlds. It doesn't say that you must kill us, though most seem to think that the proper interpretation requires destruction. The secret, Inale, is this: you can't kill us."

  Inale frowned, not liking to be told she couldn't do something, even if it was something she didn't want to do. "I could if I wanted to."

  "No. You couldn't." The man chuckled. "You were created for another purpose entirely. One that doesn't involve killing and that is far better. When you're older, I'll tell you what the blood curse really means and what you must do."

  Inale shook her head at him. "I'm cursed."

  "Do you really think that?" the man asked. "How many children have you killed today?"

  Inale didn't know if he was teasing her. But the way he said it made her smile. "None."

  "Ah. And how many children did you kill yesterday?"

  "None."

  "Well, how many children have you ever killed?"

  "I haven't killed any children."

  "Then maybe you prefer adults. How many of them have you killed?"

  "I haven't killed anybody."

  "I see. Well, animals then. How many of those have you killed? I think I saw some dead mice in the trap down by the Great Hall. Did they kill those? Or are those just your supper?"

  "No!" Inale's smile broadened. He wasn't so bad. And he didn't appear to feel sorry for her either. Does he know WroOth? she wondered. He reminded her a bit of WroOth. "I haven't killed anything, but that comes later. When I'm older."

  "Yes, when you're older, many things will come. But a desire for blood and destruction isn't one of them. You're a Neyeb child who should be able to play with other children and enjoy fun and adventures."

  "Will you tell my parents then?" Inale asked.

  "I am going to do better than that, but you'll have to trust me." The man studied her. "Can you trust me, Inale?"

  Inale watched him in silence, not sure what trusting him meant. But then, as she heard the clicking in the distance, she remembered what had happened. "Did you do this?" She put her hands on the top of the chest, uncertain about her fear.

  "Do what?" the man asked.

  "Make everyone fall asleep. Take my parents." Inale shivered, feeling the cold of the night once more. Confusion settled within her. She remembered how frightened she'd been to find her parents missing, and yet just a few moments ago, she actually felt that she did trust this man. It didn't make sense.

  "I did this for you, Inale. You see, I knew that you weren't being trained properly. They were making you think that you were going to become some warrior monster, driven with bloodlust and violence. So I came to get you. But I knew that your parents would be afraid of me. See, just as they were wrong about what it means for you to be a blood child, they were wrong about me. So I brought my soldiers and dolmaths in to put the palace and outer regions to sleep."

  "Why didn't I go to sleep then?"

  "Because you are a Neyeb, and they are Awdawms. It's the reason I'm not asleep. I'm used to the dolmath scent. And you, you're immune to it because you're a Neyeb. But Awdawms…they always fall asleep so quickly when the dolmaths come by. At least when they haven't taken sufficient precautions. So did I do all this for nothing? Or will you come with me?"

  Inale looked down at the floor and then at the chest, torn by the decision. "What's your name?"

  "I am Naatos." He smiled slightly as he dipped his head forward in a small bow. "I am the Para of Eiram. Do you know what that means?"

  Inale shook her head, confused. She had heard the term "Para" before, but she had never really known what it meant except that it involved the Tue-Rah. "And that's not the name I heard. You're supposed to be Natas."

  Naatos shook his head. "Libyshans have butchered many things over the years. It's little wonder that our names were distorted as well. But it is pronounced NAY-toss. Not Natas. As for being the Para, that means I am the protector, overseer, and caretaker of Eiram and the worlds below her along with their people. I make sure they are safe, and I look after the protection of the central city of the Neyeb and the Neyeb people among others. So that means I will make sure you are safe."

  "I don't want to leave my family." Inale fiddled with the ribbon on her nightgown. As much as she wanted to play and be out among others, she loved her parents and Josiah.

  "They aren't really your family, Inale." Naatos motioned toward a painting on the wall. It depicted her mother, father, and Josiah from a few years ago. She had not been included. "They only adopted you because you were the Third Nalenth, not because they loved you, even if they love you now. But you don't have to stay with my brothers and me forever. Just visit us and see if you like it. If you don't, then you can always come back."

  "How do I know you won't lock me up?" Inale asked. Though she had known she was adopted because she was the Third Nalenth and she knew her parents loved her in their own way, she did wonder if perhaps things could be better. Should she hope? She swallowed the lump forming in her throat, uneasy. This man might not be as friendly as he seemed.

  "Do you see your necklace?" Naatos pointed to it. "It's a necklace given to a Neyeb infant by the Council of Elders. It has very important information inscribed on it, words that will change your life. Do you have any idea what yours says?"

  5

  Vawtrians in the Palace

  Inale pulled her necklace out to look at the pendant. The soft silver light revealed the pattern carved in the stone clearly, but the markings meant nothing to her. "What does it mean?"

  "Many things. Complicated things. But most importantly, it means I cannot harm you. That I would never harm you."

  "Is it magic?" Inale asked, frowning.

  "Essentially." Naatos pointed at it. "See there in the middle? It breaks in two. Each side is quite important. But there are two pieces missing. One day when you are older, I will show you the other two pieces and explain what it means. But for now, all you must know is that it will keep you safe."

  "There are other Vawtrians though," Inale said slowly.

  Naatos smiled. "Do not fear, Inale. None of them can harm you."

  "So this lets me command them?" That was a very appealing thought.

  "No. Not quite." Naatos chuckled. "But no Vawtrian will hurt you once they see that necklace. Now then." He held his hand out to her.
"Will you come with me, Inale?"

  Inale hesitated. She looked from his hand to his face. Though her parents wouldn't be happy, her curiosity grew. "Just a little visit," she said at last, her tone firm. "Then I'll decide."

  "Very well."

  Inale stepped out from behind the chest and put her hand in his. Naatos stood. He wasn’t so scary now, though he was more than twice her size. His black-gloved hand engulfed hers.

  "Where are we going?" she asked.

  "You're going to pack. Then you will be surprised," Naatos said.

  Walking through the palace halls and back to her room was no longer frightening. Obviously Naatos was not so bad. And with the strange clicking gone, all seemed far better. When they reached her room, Naatos stayed in the hall and instructed her to go inside and pack a bag.

  Fear had been replaced with excitement. Inale put on one of her favorite yellow traveling dresses and began stuffing other clothes into a bag, along with her favorite cloth rabbit and some of her cherished books. Then, feeling a twinge of guilt, she removed a piece of paper from one of her many hand-stitched notebooks and wrote to her parents, explaining that she was going away for a time but would soon return. She told them not to worry because she was all right and she loved them very much and would not kill anyone. Afterward, she folded the paper, tucked it in her pocket, pulled the bag off the bed, and opened the door.

  Naatos stood outside the doorway with another man. "Well," said the stranger in a firm but faded voice. "Is this her?"

  "Is this your brother?" Inale asked. He was a little terrifying, being all white except for his pupils. His extreme whiteness made it hard for Inale to notice much of anything else about him. His eyes had no other coloring either, except for pupils which were as black as coal. He might have once been a fearsome warrior, but something in the lines of his face and the sag of his shoulders made him appear older than Naatos. He was somber and withdrawn, and when he looked at her, it was as if he saw past her. He too was familiar but the vaguest of the three.