"What did you do?" Amelia demanded. She could not imagine what was so terrible it would require showing her this.
Kepsalon lifted his hands and moved them across the scene. Mercifully, it ended as WroOth took another burning pass over the Ayamin, fire streaming from his jaws.
An actual room appeared. A large one carved from the stones. Dozens and dozens of images lined the walls, some in watercolors, some in oils, some in sand, some in glass, and others in stone. Most of them were of her. The majority were violent, many showed her with Naatos, and a few faint ones showed her with Shon.
"Neyeb marriages are generally arranged in advance. As far in advance as they can make them. They go through elaborate processes to ensure that the couples are as compatible as possible. But in your case, because of damages to your mind, more was done to you. And others interfered further. The intention was that when you reached your twenty-fourth birthday, you would cleave to Naatos upon your first meeting. Your heart would have sought his, and you would have given yourself to him instinctively. Moreover, your mind would have spoken to his and awakened his recognition of you as well. You would have desired him."
"But I didn't. I hate him!" The tension ached through Amelia's shoulders.
"I know." Kepsalon picked up a small pouch from the shelf. "And there's a reason that you didn't. A Neyeb can only romantically love one at a time. Except in rare circumstances when what is known as the ‘split heart’ develops. And while that may come about swiftly, it is not immediate. The only way to counter the effect that Naatos would have had on you was to make sure someone else had started to fill your heart. Even if the split heart formed, you would not be swept away. It is painful, but it is also grounding."
"What did you do?" Amelia asked softly.
Kepsalon shrugged. "Incidentally, that is why you went in shock and felt the pain you did when Naatos was in your mind. A deeper connection was being made." He removed a small stone orb, yellow-orange, nearly translucent. "This is a bakai. It is typically given to a non-Neyeb when he is prepared to marry a Neyeb, but it isn't exclusive to such arrangements. It opens the channels of the mind and soul to allow a connection to be made. In essence, the bakai, when properly prepared, allows for two to fall in love with the essence of the other. The bond is swift, consuming, and powerful."
Amelia's eyes widened. Something clicked in her mind. She remembered Shon mentioning being hit in the head in the tunnel right before they met. "This was done to Shon?"
Kepsalon nodded, his expression sober. "I connected you both without either of you knowing."
"You forced him to fall in love with me!" Amelia covered her mouth. She remembered how strange it had seemed. How abrupt. And yet how natural too. With Shon, she had felt the stirrings of something incredible. Her first desires for a life beyond the Tue-Rah.
Tears welled up in Amelia's eyes. Some small voice in her mind whispered that Kepsalon had done this because he believed it was best, but the horror of what she had seen, the implications of what would likely happen to Shon crushed in upon her. Her hands shook. Just when she thought her world could not fracture anymore, what little remained splintered beneath the pressure of this new revelation. "How could you?"
"Because…though you would have eventually remembered how to fight Naatos, it would have been far more painful for you had you adored him as intended. Hundreds would have died. And the guilt would have nearly destroyed you. You may yet love Naatos. But now it is your decision as are many others that will come. This is the only way that I could preserve your ability to choose."
"Naatos is going to kill Shon because of what you've done!" Amelia clenched her fists, the rage intensifying. "And I—" She broke the words off and shook her head, grabbing fistfuls of her hair. "You let Shon and me fall in love knowing that it would tear us apart. You denied us the ability to choose."
"Your heart had to be filled, or else you would have given into Naatos. You had no way to prepare for it. Even if you were warned. Now you will be able to decide what you want. What is best. You will not be overwhelmed. There is an irony, I admit. But taking away this choice was essential to allow you others. Now you can choose."
"Do you know what I want?" Amelia demanded, turning on him. "I want to not be manipulated! Not by you! Not by Naatos!" She tore at her hair. "Not by anyone!"
Kepsalon regarded her, his eyebrow slightly raised. "Life is manipulation. You do not have to like what I did. But you do have to accept it."
Something snapped inside Amelia. Everything closed in around her, constricting her. The anger rose up in a furious ice-cold knot, flaming within her without direction. She balled her fist and struck Kepsalon in the face. He fell to the ground in a heap.
Amelia ran around him and into the hall. Several of the Machat murmured in surprise, but none of them stopped her. She ran as fast as she could, moving more on instinct than actual knowledge. She didn't even remember where she ran or whether she saw anyone else. But once she reached the door, she flung it open and ran out onto the mountainside.
It was wild out here, and the warm sunlight flowed throughout. But more importantly, it was open. The wind rushed up around her, cooling the heat of the sun against her head. It brought with it mountain scents of fresh water, quin clover, and wild heather. But none of these comforted her. Her heart raced, faster and faster with anger and pain. And once outside, she simply ran.
She kept going, not caring where she went. Onward and onward, up past a small river and beyond a clump of fir trees. She kept going until the sun began to set in a ball of vermilion flames and the sky filled with amber and purple clouds. At last she collapsed at the foot of a massive twisted white oak.
For several moments, she lay there, breathing in and out. All her thoughts blurred together. She dug her fingers into the pebble-strewn soil and gritted her teeth. Then she screamed.
A creature growled a short distance to her left.
The hairs on the back of Amelia's neck prickled, her shoulders tightened. A crudon crouched in a shallow ravine less than thirty feet away. Its massive paw pressed against a half-devoured corpse as it lowered its bullet-shaped head. It bellowed then, its bloodied lips curling back.
Yet Amelia was not afraid. She slowly pushed herself up, staring right back into its yellow eyes. "Wrong time, crudon," she snarled, unsheathing one of her knives.
54
Battling the Crudon
Amelia slid the daggers from the sheaths at her side. Rage and cold pulsed within her. No longer a cold bead of anger as it had been before. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced. But in this matter, she knew precisely what she had to do.
It didn't matter that this creature had been one of the bruins in the palace or perhaps a simple forest bear. It was a crudon. She hated it. Hated what it represented. Hated the one who made it. She gripped the knife tight. "Go away, or I will kill you, crudon."
The crudon lifted its bloodied maw from the carcass it had been stripping. Bits of flesh and fur hung from its jaws. It growled, its yellow eyes glowing in the setting light.
Amelia lifted her chin and stared straight into its eyes. This was a sign of aggression. Open hostility and rage. She knew that. Everything Malcolm and Uncle Joe had taught her about handling large animals warned against such conduct. Her hands did not sweat though her shoulders and muscles remained tense.
The crudon met her gaze. Its pupils narrowed to vertical slits. Its jaws parted again in a low graveling snarl.
Amelia bared her teeth at it and snarled back. She tossed one of the knives in the air and caught it. "Back off…monster."
The air smelled like death, blood, and filth, scented both from the crudon and the bloated corpse. There was no wind to drive it away.
The scent filled Amelia's nostrils. It made her feel wilder than she had ever felt in all her life.
Rearing up on its hind legs, the crudon roared.
Then it lunged at her.
Amelia dodged to the side and scrabbled up onto a boul
der. The crudon struck the rock. Amelia leaped down.
The odd part was that she did not feel frightened. Not anymore. Everything was stripped away now. Even the rage was fading. There was only the cold. No fear. No pain. No uncertainty. Just the cold and the knowledge of what she had to do.
She ran up the mountain face to a higher point.
The crudon whirled about and swatted at her. Its massive quills shuddered and shook. Venom dripped from its jaws and claws, searing the stones black.
Amelia twirled the knife around, contemplating where to attack. There was enough time to do it three times as she turned her strategy through her mind. Each time she caught the hilt. Foul air filled her lungs. She let her muscles relax, setting her knees shoulder-width apart. "You can leave any time you want, crudon," she said. "I won't chase you."
The crudon roared again. Spittle and venom scattered from its mouth.
Amelia ducked to the side with ease as it attacked again. She rolled across the ground. Small rocks and twigs cut into her lower legs and palms, but she did not feel the pain. She spun up to her feet, took aim at the bare side of the crudon's throat, and threw the blade.
The knife left her hands smoothly. It sliced through the air with perfect rotation, turning end over end. It struck its mark and sank deep into the crudon's neck. The crudon shook its head and roared. Its jaws snapped as it tried to grab at it.
Amelia threw another knife, sinking it into the other side of its throat. The crudon threw its head back. It bellowed again. The sound tore through the growing darkness, shaking the rocks. It lunged at her again.
The small narrow blades had not done much damage. Amelia dodged away. This time the crudon's massive paw grazed her. Its claws dug into the sheath at her side, ripping the thick leather sheath off but barely scratching her skin.
Amelia lunged to the side, staggering briefly. She swung around the twisted white oak, using it at as a shield.
Up above, the stars appeared in the sky. She hadn't even noticed until now. So calm and cold. The coldness mirrored what Amelia felt. Deep. Endless. Remorseless.
The crudon roared once more.
A vague knowledge came over Amelia. This state was what she would have been afraid of if she could have seen ahead to this moment. No emotions. No feeling. Not even a fear of being unarmed. Her sheath and daggers were somewhere in that collecting darkness. But she would not die. It wasn't her time.
It was the crudon's.
The crudon bellowed. With two lopes, it reached her. Its jaw quivered with a rage-filled snarl, blood oozing from the entry wounds.
Amelia waited until it was almost upon her. "You should have run," she said. Then she lunged up, grabbed a fistful of its coarse fur, swung around onto its back, tore out one of the daggers from its flesh, and sliced it across the throat.
The crudon's snarl ended abruptly. It stared straight ahead, its yellow eyes wide.
Amelia tore the dagger out. Hot blood spurted up and out, covering her arms, her chest, her hands, her neck. It covered her as she launched herself away. The horrid stench filled the air, but this time it didn't even turn her stomach or prick her conscience. There were no tears in her eyes or lodged in her throat.
The crudon's body slumped to the ground, half supported by one of the boulders.
The sight infuriated Amelia for no reason she could identify. The cold bead within her shrunk, bringing with it chaos. Horrible powerful strength surged through her. She screamed and thrust her shoulder against its thick furred shoulder and knocked it back. The crudon flopped over, moving far too easily. Her frenzy increased. Holding the dagger with both hands, she stabbed it over and over again. "Die!" she screamed. "Die! Just die!"
"Amelia!"
Amelia turned at the sound of her name. The cold vanished at once, replaced with heat and shame. Shon.
He stood on the ridge, his razor bow half lifted, an arrow nocked against the string. The rising rays of the moon outlined him. "Amelia, are you all right?" His brow was furrowed, his tone concerned.
"Yes." Amelia started to sheath the daggers but remembered that the sheath was gone. They were covered in blood and gore. She stared at them for a moment, then stuck them into the belt. What had come over her? She had felt tendrils of this cold sensation before, but nothing this powerful. It terrified and exhilarated her at once. Or would have if her embarrassment hadn't been so strong.
Shon nodded, but he did not appear convinced. He approached her slowly. Small coarse-grained rocks tumbled out from beneath his feet as he made his way down the ridge. "Really?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" Amelia lifted her chin. Her cheeks burned. The crudon blood dripped from the blades and her body in rivulets. Reaching up, she pushed her hair back. It was wet and sticky. How much of her was covered in blood? A confusing cloud of emotions swept over her, but she thrust them down. "What are you doing out here, Shon?" she asked, clearing her throat. "I wanted to be alone."
"I'm going to guess that Kepsalon told you what he told me." Shon reached into his pocket and removed a large white handkerchief. "Here…you've got a little…" His voice trailed off as he smiled awkwardly. "I don't blame you for anything."
Amelia wanted to smile, but she couldn't. Not even at that handkerchief which certainly wouldn't do much good. It was a kind gesture though. "You should," she said. "You are going to die because of me. Because of a future that was never supposed to happen."
"That's what I thought at first." Shon placed the arrow back in the quiver and set the razor bow down. He reached for Amelia's hands.
"No." Amelia drew back sharply. Her voice shuddered, tears thickening her voice. "You can't touch me, Shon. He will kill you. I promised that I wouldn't be with anyone else, and I will keep that promise. Your blood is not going to be on my head."
"Naatos will try to kill me anyway, no matter what bargains or promises you make." Shon sat on a boulder, resting his booted foot on one of the cracked rocks. A contemplative look filled his deep-blue eyes. Even now Amelia knew she could get lost in them if she wasn't careful. "I won't lie to you, Amelia," he said. "I was furious with Kepsalon. If Matthu hadn't been there to talk me down, I think I might have done worse to him than you did. And I wasn't sure how I felt about you for a bit. A lot of things have been said. Things I still don't know how to process. But after Kepsalon told me the truth, I understood. I knew why I believed in you from the start. Why I felt the way I did. And I am not really angry with Kepsalon."
"Why not?" Amelia held the handkerchief between both hands, twisting it tight. She should have moved to the river that cut down the mountain face a few feet from the twisted white oak, but she couldn't go.
"A couple reasons. The first is if he hadn't, you wouldn't have been able to prepare against Naatos. Most of the Ayamin would be dead right now. And we wouldn't have much hope. Things are rather bleak right now, to be sure. But most of us are alive." Shon rested his hands on the top of his bow. "More importantly we have hope. I would have given up my life to save Libysha. I would have died in prolonged agony willingly. Who knows? I still might." He shrugged. "But right now, it seems I've had to give up my heart. There are worse things that could happen to me."
Please stop being wonderful, Amelia thought. The urge to kiss him swept over her again, the ache in her chest and elmis returning. She dropped her gaze, staring at her blood covered hands. With every word he spoke, her turmoil increased.
"The second reason is actually the real reason I can't be angry with Kepsalon." Shon paused.
The sounds of the night, the cooing of doves far away and the hum of the cicadas and green walkers close at hand, filled the silence. At last, Amelia glanced up. He was watching her. Her breath snagged. No, no, she thought.
"The real reason I cannot be angry with Kepsalon is because he did not create anything that did not exist. Once he showed me how it worked, I realized that what I felt for you wasn't false. It was accelerated. How could he make me love you? He couldn't. We were compatible. He made it so that we c
ould see into one another's heart and souls without realizing it. That's why it was so strong, so intense."
The desire flowing from him reached her, and her own wishes did not help to soothe that mad hope that was rising within her. And he was right. What she felt for him was so clear and gentle. Yet for him to say it out loud… "Shon—"
"Yes, I know I am saying I love you in one of the most inopportune places. But you needed to know. Because there's more. You are a married woman." Shon rose from the rock. "Though I despise everything about how you became married and what has happened to wound you, I know I cannot change what is law. I also know that I will never love another woman as I love you."
"Shon…there's life after love. There's got to be someone else out there for you. Someone so incredible." Amelia struggled to speak around the words.
"I don't see how that's possible. Amelia, I fell in love with your soul. That doesn't happen twice in one lifetime."
"Please, Shon." Tears spilled down Amelia's cheeks.
"Amelia." Shon stepped closer. "When the third and final Tue-Rah is restored and the Paras are defeated once and for all, I will be there for you all through it and to the end. I love you, Amelia, and if there is any life for us beyond this time of darkness and death, I want to spend it to you. Even if I only live in the hope of it. Until then, do what you must do. If you need to return to Naatos, then do that. If you wish to return to New Istador and prepare, then do that. All I ask is that you stay alive and win."
More than anything she wanted to kiss him in that moment. Her heart swelled with the warmth, nearly replacing the shame. "Shon…"
"Amelia." Shon leaned his forehead against hers. "I love you."
Amelia's eyes slipped shut. She couldn't stop the tears now. It would almost be better if she could return to that state in which she killed the crudon. She already was a monster. This warmth and all the pained feelings and broken hopes hurt, despite the faint pleasure that came from Shon's words. "Shon," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I can't."
Identity Revealed: The Tue-Rah Chronicles Page 49
