Identity Revealed: The Tue-Rah Chronicles

by Butler, J. M.

  Oh. He knew.

  He knew she had done this to Matthu. That it was because of her his brother had almost died.

  And what was he doing now? His touching her was a terrible idea.

  "Shon," Amelia started.

  Shon leaned closer. "No talking right now. Just rest." He hesitated, then gave her forehead a light kiss.

  Warmth spread through Amelia as she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. When she woke again, she found that everyone except Kepsalon had left. He sat on a stool, carving a small stick. Little shavings of fragrant wood dropped from beneath the blade. "You should be feeling refreshed," he said without looking up from his work.

  "Yes." Amelia pressed her hand to her temple, taking stock of what had happened. She vaguely remembered her encounter with Matthu, killing the spider. Then something else…something with Naatos. Her body felt whole again though. A lightness suffused her. "What happened to me?"

  "Many things, child. Don't be troubled that you cannot remember them all. You are not intended to. At least not for now. You've slept for quite some time." Kepsalon chuckled. He put his thumb along the edge of his carving, then lifted his gaze to hers. "You are coming into your skills, though there is much for you to learn and not all will be simple. I can only take you part of the way. But first, it's time for you to get dressed. You will need to remove those old bandages. The salve will have finished drying, but if it doesn't come off, don't scrub it. Fresh clothing is here. The water is in the next room. I will wait for you outside." With that he left, carrying the stool and his carving out.

  Amelia remained seated in the bed for a minute. Her senses took in more details than ever before. The texture of the woven sheets as well as the sound of dripping water in the next room all were so much clearer. Excitement rose within her. She was learning to use her skills.

  She rose from the bed. To her right was a small table. On it was a fresh dress. It was loose and flowing in a soft shade of nutmeg brown, similar in style and color to the one that the Nialan wore. To her surprise, there was even a set of simple throwing knives and sheaths to fit along her waist on the belt. It brought a smile to her face. The Machat were thorough.

  Picking up the garments and weapons, she walked to the door Kepsalon had indicated. Inside was a small and dimly lit bath chamber.

  A large tub of water sat beneath a series of stalactites, cold water dripping from them. Several woven towels and cloths lined the sides of the large stone tub. Amelia put the garments down and removed her own clothing, set aside the Salvation of the Third Nalenth, and prepared to peel off the bandages.

  Amelia removed the bandage from her left arm first, and they slid off as if nothing held them at all. The salve had caked onto her skin in strange ridges like magma trails from a volcano, and it refused to come off as Kepsalon had predicted. It had no smell, and it was stuck fast to her flesh. But it didn’t hurt, and Amelia didn't have time to fiddle with it. She bathed in the cool water as quickly as she could.

  When she finished, the soft dress covered her completely. Her skin was still damp from the cold bath, but she adjusted the fabric, rebound her hair, and left the room.

  Kepsalon kept his word. He sat outside the wooden door, continuing to work on his carving.

  "Where are Shon and Matthu?" Amelia asked. She needed to see Shon at least to warn him to stay away from her. That kiss, though sweet, was dangerous. And she had so much to apologize for. More than accidentally wounding Matthu. So much more.

  "They're talking," Kepsalon said. "As they should be. Now is the time for plain speech, but it is not always easy to receive." Kepsalon stood and faced her. "I've already told all of this to Shon, and he needs…time. I suspect it will be the same for you."

  Amelia frowned. The light refreshed feeling was married by a hint of foreboding. "What are you talking about?"

  "Come with me." Kepsalon set the carving aside, then motioned to the hall. He led the way down the brown stone chambers. Every few intervals sunlight streamed through cracks and openings along with fresh air. From the brightness of the sunlight, it appeared to be before midday.

  They passed a few Machat in the halls. Each one nodded, and a few gave small smiles. Amelia caught no glimpse of the Ayamin until they passed a larger hall. This one intersected with several others.

  At the far end, the stone and wood doors had been flung open. Dozens of Machat gathered around, helping along wounded men, women, and children. Soft weeping and reassurances that all would be well filled the hall along with the scuffing and scraping of boots. Many Ayamin were present too, carrying some of the more severely wounded. Makeshift stretchers as well as bandages, waterskins, medicines, bread, and broth were all laid out. The Machat children offered food to the newcomers as the older Machat tended to the more serious wounds and needs.

  "What happened?" Amelia asked, though her heart sank. She had a good guess.

  Kepsalon continued to walk. "Naatos and his brothers are preparing for the coming of the Vawtrian army and their conquest of this world and others."

  "How many Vawtrians?" Amelia picked up her pace to keep up with him. "Do you need me to help with the wounded? I trained to be a veterinarian, but I took as many classes on human biology, medicine, field techniques, and emergency procedures as I could."

  Kepsalon caught her by the wrist when she turned. "There are others who can do that just as well and better. You are the Third Nalenth, and now you must make that identity your own. There are things you must understand."

  "Like what?" The sternness in Kepsalon's voice startled Amelia. Pangs of sadness gripped her as she tore her gaze away from the wounded. She didn't need any more reminders of Naatos's brutality.

  "I will tell you in private," Kepsalon said.

  "Can you tell me how many Vawtrians are in the army?"

  "When Naatos and his brothers went to Ecekom, they prepared an army of over thirty thousand elite Vawtrians. They could not bring them back yet. Fortunately for us. But they are waiting. These Vawtrians are headed up by fourteen commanders, commanders who are their closest friends and allies. The Shrieking Chimera Cadre. They will bring anywhere from five thousand to twelve thousand Vawtrians through when the Tue-Rah is restored and the connection between Reltux and Ecekom fully established once again. Maybe as many as twenty if they decide they want to wrap things up especially quickly."

  Amelia stopped short, her eyes widening. "We can't even handle three!"

  Kepsalon nodded soberly. "They will descend upon this world and give harsh reprisals to it if any resistance is mounted. The towns are being emptied to make room for the newcomers and their needs. That's where many of these refugees are from. The Tue-Rah's restoration will occur soon, and when that happens, Reltux will be conquered in less than a week."

  "Unless I stop them." Amelia glanced over her shoulder. A pang of shame passed over her though she wasn't entirely sure why. There was something she needed to remember. It hung at the edge of her mind, taunting her. Obviously something to do with her mindreading bout.

  "Perhaps." Kepsalon gestured back to the hall ahead of them. "Now come along." He led her farther into New Istador through a honeycomb of passages. His soft boots made no sound on the stone floor. They passed fewer and fewer Machat the deeper they went, though twice more they passed large doors with Machat bringing in the injured and displaced.

  With the sight of each group, Amelia's muscles tightened, and her resolve intensified. She wasn't going to let them suffer any more than she had to. She prayed to Elonumato for strength. There had to be a way. Perhaps there was more to the Salvation of the Third Nalenth than Naatos had let on.

  They reached a long otherwise vacant hallway. Here the rocks were darker with a blue undertone to the grey. No furnishings or decorations adorned the coarse stone walls, and the floor here was coarser. Amelia wondered how Kepsalon could remember his way through all these twists and turns so easily. Yet he never once faltered. They continued down this hall until they reached a door and an inset
shelf. From the disturbance of gravel and dust on the floor and in the corners, the shelf had recently been carved.

  In the center of the shelf sat an exquisitely painted water color image of a young boy. The painting was on yellowed paper and pressed between two sheets of glass. He had bright eyes, a laughing smile, and mid-length pale brown hair. A little scar ran along his thin eyebrows, and his eyes turned up at the edges just like his lips. A tremor of sadness radiated from the picture of the boy to Amelia.

  Amelia turned to face it better. How can a picture project such feeling? she wondered. Yet something about the boy seemed familiar. Then, all at once, she realized that the sadness came not from the picture but from Kepsalon. He too stared at the image, his hand on the stone door.

  "Who is he?" she asked softly.

  Tears shone in Kepsalon's eyes. Reaching out, he placed his fingers along the picture. "Cohsaw." He looked at her and swallowed, his voice thick. "You buried him in the Shenam Valley of Old Istador and spoke over him the Ilshan's Blessing of the Martyred. Something for which I will always be grateful to you."

  "The…" Amelia's voice trailed off. She remembered him at once as well as the prayer that had reached her mind. "I am so—"

  "He died to save you, Amelia. You asked me before why it is that I give you such aid, why it is that you should trust me…it is because of many things but especially because of him. It was because of him that one of the orbs survived. It was in part because of him that I chose to intervene as I have. Come. See what my son has drawn me to do." With that, he pressed the door open and stepped back to allow Amelia to see.

  Amelia's mouth fell open at the sight.

  How could this even be possible?

  53

  The Real Filled Heart

  The room before Amelia didn't look like a room at all. Instead, it was Valne's Peak on the day she had rescued Alita and Josiah. It was exactly as she remembered it. The sun shone bright. The sounds of the movie battle rang out through the air. The air smelled fresh and sweet, not giving any hint of the horrors that had occurred at the palace just hours ago. She saw herself kneeling beside Josiah and severing the ropes. "Who are you?" Josiah exclaimed.

  The old version of herself covered his mouth. Naatos moved out from behind a large rock. "Hello, Amelia," he said. "Did you remember to bring Inale?" He strode between her and her mother. He eyed her, though he still appeared quite relaxed, his arms folded loosely over his chest. "Apparently not. It seems you aren't lying merely about your race. Though I am curious…why would you pretend to be a Machat when you are a Neyeb? I would have gladly spoken with you if you had admitted to that. You see, I deal with all matters involving the Neyeb."

  Amelia glanced back at Kepsalon. "What is this?" she demanded. "I remember what happened here."

  Kepsalon shook his head. He pointed back to the peak. "Keep watching. Only then will you understand why I did what I did."

  Amelia wasn't entirely certain what it was he had done. But she looked back to the images playing out in the door. The other Amelia was shaking. She rose to her feet and snapped the gun from its holster, pointing it at Naatos's head.

  "Who says I'm a Neyeb?" the other Amelia asked, her voice wavering.

  Naatos smiled. "Apparently you were raised by Awdawms."

  Alita stretched forward, reaching out. "Josiah!" she sobbed. Josiah started forward.

  For a moment, the other Amelia remained motionless, her eyes fixed on Naatos as if hypnotized. Then she seemed to realize what was happening. She lunged forward and grabbed Josiah by the arm. "Don't run in front of Naatos," she said.

  Now that was strange. Amelia distinctly remembered yelling that. This other version of herself held onto Josiah, but she stared at Naatos as if waking slowly from a dream.

  Naatos's attention briefly shifted to Josiah. "She's right, young prince. Cross me, and you won't be running to your mother with all your limbs. You can take that for certain. And as for you, woman, end this charade. There's nothing to be gained from denying what you are or who you are."

  Amelia saw herself shake her head and blink several times. "One step at either of them, and I'll…I will…" She lifted the gun again, her hand trembling. "I will shoot you."

  "Will you?" Naatos's tone was scornful at first. Then oddly it softened. He looked at her, then shook his head as if brushing aside a thought. "There is only one who can defeat me, and you forgot to bring her."

  Amelia remembered the tension and the adrenaline building inside her at a similar moment. That point when she had to protect Josiah and face off against Naatos. Her bold declaration to drive him back. But the words that came from this Amelia's mouth were not the same at all. "I didn't forget," she said. Her eyes had softened. "I…" She glanced from Alita to Josiah before looking back to Naatos. "I will show you where she is, but you must let them go." She pointed to Josiah and Alita. "Let them go, and you will have Inale."

  "No!" Alita shouted, her face ashen. "You can't give her to him. Please, whoever you are! She's just a child."

  Naatos met the other Amelia's gaze, his expression almost quizzical. He motioned for Alita to be silent. "Swear to me that she is here, Neyeb."

  "I swear that she is here."

  Amelia clenched her fists at her sides as she watched herself. What was she doing?

  Naatos dragged Alita to her feet, lifting her off the ground for a brief moment. "Take your son and go. Stay, and I tear him to pieces and feed his corpse to the crudons." Then he flung her to the ground.

  The other Amelia lunged down and grasped her Alita's hands. "Your daughter will be fine," she whispered.

  "Don't—" Alita sobbed. But she rose slowly as Josiah flung his arms around her neck. "I can't—"

  Naatos's eyes flashed with rage. "Stop your weeping, woman, or he dies!"

  Alita stood, clutching Josiah to her chest and looking around with sorrow filled eyes. Then, her arms still around her son, she turned to Amelia. "Tell Inale I love her."

  "She knows," the other Amelia whispered.

  And with that, Alita ran down the hill and into the forest, holding Josiah close, tears streaming down her face. The other Amelia watched her go, tears shining in her own eyes too.

  "Where is Inale?" Naatos demanded.

  The other Amelia turned back to face him and lifted the stone necklace from around her neck. "I am Inale."

  Amelia stared, raw horror rushing through her. Those words hung in the air, silencing everything. What was the other Amelia doing? What would make her say such a thing?

  The other Amelia unfastened her Neyeb betrothal necklace and held it out as if she understood precisely what it was and wanted Naatos to see it.

  Naatos's eyebrow arched. But he stepped forward and took the necklace from her. The dark leather thongs fell over his fingers as he turned it in his hand.

  The other Amelia watched expectantly, holding her breath. Amelia cursed at herself. What was wrong with her?

  "The Tue-Rah…" Naatos stared at the pendant, amazement tinging his voice, then lifted his gaze to hers. "We had not considered that the Tue-Rah might take you and then bring you back."

  "Yes. It took me to Eiram. Then it brought me back here. And when I saw you, everything made sense. I knew I had to…tell you. I felt it inside."

  "Did you?" Naatos slid his hand along her cheek, his thumb pressing against her lower lip. With his other hand, he removed his own Neyeb necklace. "And do you understand what it means?" He leaned closer and whispered something in her ear.

  The other Amelia ducked her head, her cheeks flushing bright red. Then, all at once, she flung her arms around Naatos's neck. His arms wrapped around her and lifted her off the ground. They kissed passionately. The gun fell from the other Amelia's hand as she clung to him.

  Amelia stared in shock. She had betrayed herself here. What was this? She would never...all at once, her memories returned. She remembered what had happened when she killed the spider in Matthu's mind. Naatos's appearance. Her shame, the crushing reg
ret, the kisses.

  Amelia's cheeks heated. Realization flooded within her, mixing with the memories and the sight before her. She was looking at what was supposed to have been. This was what was supposed to have happened.

  The connection between her and Naatos which had seemed like such a small possibility was here a reality. And when the other Amelia pulled back from the kiss, nothing but absolute love and adoration shone in her eyes. That Amelia seemed to have forgotten everything. She nestled in Naatos's arms as he stroked and caressed her. This was what Naatos had expected. Was this really what was supposed to have happened? It couldn't be.

  AaQar, WroOth, and the Talbokians soon returned. Naatos made the announcement about her identity with delight, his arm still around her, holding her as close as he could. The other Amelia looked entirely content, resting her head on his chest. She twined her fingers through his as she closed her eyes.

  Then the Ayamin attacked on their bruins. This time, WroOth led the charge, transforming into the red dragon once again. The crudons likewise attacked, but even if they hadn't, the force of the dragon was sufficient to overpower the Ayamin. Three fell dead, charred in the flames along with their bruins.

  Amelia turned her face away at last, the knot in her throat choking her. "Stop it!" she cried out. "Why are you doing this, Kepsalon? Why are you showing me this?"

  "Shon tried to reach you as before. Not because he loved you, but because it was his duty. He lost his arm in that battle. He and Matthu as well as a few did manage to escape, though the majority perished here," Kepsalon said. He spoke with great gravity, his eyes not moving from the battlefield before them. "Those who escaped still unintentionally led Naatos's forces to all of the waypoints, and the Ayamin were captured."

  "I don't understand this!" Amelia turned on Kepsalon, glaring at him. "This is what was supposed to happen?"

  "I am showing you this so that you can understand. The bond between you and Naatos is a powerful one. The odds in your favor were nonexistent after all the meddling of those who sought to use you for their own purposes. I want you to see this so you will understand why I did what I did."