The Worldbreaker Saga Omnibus

by Kameron Hurley

  “Empress,” Hofsha said. She removed her hat and gave an overly dramatic bow. Hofsha was always one for drama and spectacle.

  “You have news from Gian?” Kirana asked.

  “I do. She has sent a gift.”

  Kirana eyed the girls.

  “No, no,” Hofsha laughed. “Nothing so droll. I told her the one thing we have in abundance is people.”

  “Come,” Kirana said, “the Sanctuary.”

  Hofsha left her girls in the foyer and followed after Kirana into the Sanctuary. It was blessedly empty this time of day, used mainly as a gathering and teaching space.

  Kirana closed the door and look around quickly to ensure they had privacy. She sat on one of the great green clothed benches. Hofsha did not sit, but gazed up at the great dome, beaming.

  “It was not so long ago I first entered here,” Hofsha said. “What a soft people, they were.”

  “Some other people may think us soft,” Kirana said. “I hope not to meet them.”

  “That is not Gian,” Hofsha said quickly. “She turned over storage goods, as you hoped. Enough rice to get us out of this hungry stretch.”

  “All of us?”

  “Remarkably, yes, possibly. That is, I’m not the agricultural steward, but if we absolutely must, we can always stop feeding the slaves.”

  “I’d prefer to keep the labor.”

  “Oh, certainly, but–” Hofsha raised her gaze to the ceiling again, made a moue.

  “Speak plainly,” Kirana spat. She hated Hofsha’s posturing.

  “Gian has a request.”

  “Of course she does.”

  “She doesn’t want to coexist. She’d prefer to take Dhai, and leave us with the rest of the country, after.”

  “And in control of these great engines that can break worlds? No, that would be mad.”

  Hofsha shrugged. “Well, we get to keep the rice, anyway.”

  “Is that a deal breaker? Surely she didn’t think I’d agree to that.”

  “It will be difficult to approach her again without a counteroffer.”

  “Did you insinuate that I could burn up her entire ark at any time I’d like?”

  “I did. And she insinuated that it was very well protected.”

  Kirana huffed. “Why did it have to be Gian? Why not someone with less of a backbone? Aradan? Sovonia? They would have been kissing my feet on our first meeting.”

  “We may hear from them yet.”

  “Will she meet me here?” Kirana asked. “If she won’t listen to reason, perhaps she will be swayed by seeing it. I want to show her the chambers. And the key passages of the book on how to use these machines are nearly translated.”

  “I can ask,” Hofsha said.

  “I don’t need you to ask. I need you to persuade.”

  “Come now,” Hofsha said, grinning, “I got a woman to betray her own son. This will be easy.”

  “Best hope so. Go on.”

  Hofsha bowed, sweeping her hat forward again, annoyingly, and stepped jauntily from the room.

  Kirana went up the long slog of the stairs and knocked on Suari’s door. He opened it, still bleary-eyed. She had kept him up the night before going over the translated diagrams from the Worldbreaker book.

  “Upstairs,” she said. “I need a wink to Yisaoh.”

  “Oravan is up there.”

  “I didn’t ask for Oravan. I asked for you. Ten minutes.”

  She left him and went up to her office to prepare. Her secretary was already there, going through piles of missives, many of them sent by sparrows, others hand-delivered by those traveling by wink. The Dhai system of lifts had been largely destroyed by fire – hers and theirs, as she tried to cut them off from fleeing. But with Oma in the sky, travel and communication were very easy. That would not last, Kirana knew, and she already had surveyors out exploring various infrastructure projects that could connect her more quickly from here to the coast, as far north as Caisau and as far east as Janifa, in Dorinah.

  Suari took almost half an hour to arrive. He strode up the steps just as she was considering whether to send her secretary down or one of the little Dhai bringing up tea. Oravan and one of her stargazers worked at one side of the table, going over their calculations for the billionth time. Para’s rise was imminent, they said; every day they were better able to predict its reappearance, and last she heard, they were days away.

  “Did you have other obligations?” Kirana quipped as Suari came through the archway.

  “Shall we begin?” Suari said. He raised his hands.

  “Do it,” Kirana said. She would deal with him again later. If he’d been anything but an omajista, she would have had him strung up above the gates as a warning.

  The air shimmered and thickened. Kirana rolled her neck and shoulders, preparing to meet with Yisaoh for the first time in several days. The wink rent the air in front of her, a little too close for her liking, and she narrowed her eyes at Suari.

  She waited a beat for the jista on the other side to acknowledge the wink, but there was a long stretch of nothing instead. She gazed long at the dark wall.

  Kirana approached the wink and bent to see further into the room. It was empty.

  “Piss,” Kirana muttered. Someone had left their station.

  She called over a guard from the entry to the Assembly Chamber and sent her in to find their contact. The woman went quickly, pressing thumb to forehead and jumping through.

  Kirana waited, pointedly ignoring Suari.

  The guard reappeared, out of breath. “Something’s happened to the consort.”

  “Fuck!” Kirana went to step in, but the guard held up her hands.

  “Empress, caution! Someone has been here. Not one of ours.”

  “There’s no one left alive on that fucking world,” Kirana said.

  “I don’t think… I don’t think they’re from our world.”

  “Get back in here. You!” she yelled at one of the Dhai servants. “Go and get me Madah. Tell her I need a scouting party. Oravan!”

  “Empress?”

  “Relieve Suari. I want you on this wink. Suari, get me a sinajista for this side in case anything comes through.”

  This time, Suari picked up his pace as he hurried from the room.

  Kirana went to her room and buckled on her armor. She held out her right hand, and let the blooming willowthorn weapon unfurl from it. It had been some time since she had needed it. Her heart thrummed. Sweat beaded her lip. Now was not the time to lose the woman she had done all of this to save.

  Madah arrived with a force of thirteen, including three jistas. Suari brought a haggard sinajista up, one of the ones Kirana had working below.

  “Madah, you have the floor here,” Kirana said.

  “You aren’t… Empress, you aren’t going in?” Madah asked.

  “Keep the wink open. That’s my family,” Kirana said, and stepped through.

  She unfurled her weapon the moment she was clear of the wink, and waited for the others to make it through. “I need three of you up here,” she said. “We go through this room by room.”

  A tangled ruin of a body lay just outside the wink room; it looked as if it had been savaged by a wild animal, and had been dead at least a day. No, Kirana thought, I am not going to lose them. Not now.

  She had told them to go room by room, but she found herself running down the hall, past slippery orange mold that oozed from the seams between the hold’s stones. The vines they had used to shore up the place from the tremors and block out the charred air were shriveled and brown.

  More bodies lay scattered in the hall, these ones… barely human, though she recognized them. Golden people, two sets of legs, and narrow waists like wasps. Green eyes in delicately featured faces. Like the Empress of Dorinah. Where had these ones come from? Surely not Raisa. Kirana had eradicated all of those who remained. Taking Daorian had been their last stronghold.

  Other worlds were not supposed to come to hers, to this dying orb. She had ne
ver seen it happen. She came to the door of Yisaoh’s rooms and threw herself against it.

  “I have it! Empress!” the sinajista called.

  “Carefully!” Kirana said.

  The door charred from the center outward, blackening as it softened the integrity of wood. Two of her soldiers knocked the char out of the opening and stepped through. Kirana went after them, gaze sweeping the room.

  “Mama!” The voice sent a dagger of pain through her heart.

  Kirana fell to her knees. Tasia ran into her arms. She hugged her close, shoving her face into the girl’s hair and inhaling the scent of her. “Your mother?” Kirana asked, raising her head.

  Yisaoh lay in the bed. Kirana took Tasia by the hand and went to the bedside. She heard the ragged wheeze of Yisaoh’s breathing.

  “Oh, love,” Kirana said.

  Yisaoh sweated heavily, hands clutched around her middle. She was swaddled in the sheets, wrapped tightly and shivering.

  “Tirajista!” Kirana yelled.

  The tirajista came over quickly and gently pulled back the sheets. The smell of sweet rot filled the air. Kirana winced. A sour, oozing slash in Yisaoh’s belly writhed with maggots.

  “I’m… Empress, this isn’t my specialty. I’m offensive, not rated for medical–”

  Kirana hit her. The tirajista fell back. “Then go get me one who is!”

  The tirajista ran.

  Kirana bent over Yisaoh. Pushed her hair back. “Hey, love, can you hear me?” But Yisaoh’s gaze was blank, so far away.

  Tasia squeezed Kirana’s hand. “I tried to help,” Tasia said. “I locked the door.”

  “That was good,” Kirana said. “What happened here?”

  “The creatures came.”

  “Where’s everyone else?”

  “There’s no one else. I think. We… Mam said to stay here. There was a lot of noise, and then… there wasn’t.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “I don’t know. I’m thirsty.”

  “You, get her some water,” Kirana said to one of the soldiers. The woman passed over a bulb of water and Kirana urged Tasia to drink it, then lifted Yisaoh’s head and tried to get her to wet her mouth.

  Yisaoh coughed, but lapped up a little of it, her body responding even if her mind was addled.

  “I’m so sorry,” Kirana murmured.

  The new tirajista arrived, and Kirana took Tasia into her lap and sat on a nearby chaise.

  “Go clear the rest of the building. You, sinajista, and you, stay here with us and hold the door.”

  The scouting group moved out, and the sinajista and soldier took up a place at the door, far enough away that Kirana felt she could speak to her daughter with some amount of privacy.

  Yisaoh gasped. The air grew heavy. The tirajista had a little bag of salves and potions with her, which rested near her feet.

  “Mama, is she hurting?” Tasia whispered.

  “She’ll be fine, she’s getting help. You did very well caring for her.” Kirana smoothed back her hair. “I need to know more about these people who came here, though.”

  “They were scary,” Tasia said. “I just ran.”

  “All right,” Kirana said.

  Yisaoh moaned. The tirajista had her drink something from a small green flask. Yisaoh’s hand fluttered up, gripped it.

  Kirana bent forward, waiting.

  “Kirana?” Yisaoh whispered.

  “I’m here.” Kirana got up and stood next to the tirajista. The wound on Yisaoh’s belly was closed, but the seam was still red. Hundreds of dead maggots littered the bedsheets.

  The tirajista wiped the sweat from Yisaoh’s forehead. Her black gaze was clearer now, alert.

  Yisaoh reached for her. “Tasia?”

  “I’m here, Mam,” Tasia said. Yisaoh pressed her cheek.

  “Good girl, my good girl,” Yisaoh said.

  “Suari was supposed to check on you daily,” Kirana said. “Has he not?”

  Yisaoh shook her head. “It’s been three days. I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

  “I’ll deal with him. Who came here?”

  The tirajista wiped a greasy salve onto the red seam of the wound and began to pack up her things.

  “Thank you,” Kirana said.

  The woman bent her head. “Anyone else?”

  “Stay,” Kirana said. “I have scouts looking for survivors.”

  The tirajista bowed her head and went to join the soldier and the sinajista at the doorway.

  “It was sudden,” Yisaoh said. She touched her belly, rubbed the greasy salve between her fingers.

  “Why would any of them come to this world?”

  “You know why,” Yisaoh said.

  “I’m sorry,” Kirana said. “I can take Tasia this time, though.”

  Yisaoh’s eyes filled. “Not me? Not me?” The tears fell freely. She gave a great heaving sob.

  “Fuck,” Kirana said. “Fuck, we’re… soon. I–”

  Yisaoh shook her head violently. “Take her,” she said. “Take Tasia.”

  “No, Mam, I won’t leave you!”

  “Yisaoh, I’m… very close. We are–”

  “Just go,” Yisaoh said.

  “I’m leaving this whole squad with you,” Kirana said. “And I’ll send more. You’ll be protected. Gian has agreed to work together. We have more resources. I will–”

  “Oh, Kirana.” Yisaoh gestured for her to come closer. Kirana bent next to her. Yisaoh still wept, the tears would not stop. Kirana’s heart nearly burst. “You know who pushed that weapon into my gut, Kirana, love? You know who Tasia barred the door against, though I told her to close her eyes, to look away?”

  “Was it Gian? I will fucking murder her. I will murder her and all of her people. I will burn that ark–”

  “No, no,” Yisaoh said, and she pressed her lips to Kirana’s ear. “It was you, love. You came here to murder us.”

  27

  Roh still lay tangled with Kadaan, warm and muzzy-headed under a great bearskin, when he heard the shouting outside. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the voice away, though it was familiar. He just wanted to sleep. He wanted to feel safe, just for another moment.

  Anavha yanked open the thin membrane of the tent, and fell back when he saw that Roh wasn’t alone. His eyes widened at the sight of Kadaan wiping sleep from his eyes.

  “Zezili is here!” Anavha cried.

  Kadaan pulled on his under clothes and reached for a weapon. Roh yanked on his tunic.

  “Wait,” Roh said to Kadaan, waving at the weapon. “What is it, Anavha?”

  “Zezili,” Anavha said. “My wife.”

  “Your wife? Here? Isn’t that… good?”

  “No, oh no, no.” Anavha pressed his hand to his mouth. “Oh no! This is very bad, Roh. This is so bad. Something has happened to her, she looks… Maybe it isn’t her? Could it be a Tai Mora? Maybe, maybe so. But she knew me!”

  Kadaan handed Roh his tunic and said in Saiduan, “Is this a domestic matter?”

  “I just need to calm him down,” Roh said. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

  Kadaan shrugged and kissed him. Roh held the kiss a moment longer than Kadaan expected. They leaned in together, still hungry, still warm.

  “Please!” Anavha said.

  Roh sighed. “All right.”

  He had expected that meeting Kadaan again after all this time, after all that had happened to him, would be awkward and terrible. Roh was no longer the dancer Kadaan had known. He had been a slave for a long time now. But they didn’t speak about any of that. They drank aatai and Kadaan told him about how he had escaped Anjoliaa. Roh talked about how he had convinced Anavha into getting them out of Oma’s Temple, and Kadaan found the story incredible.

  They didn’t speak much more that night. The speaking, the reliving of the horror, wasn’t what either of them wanted. No talk of the past. No talk of the future.

  In the wan light of day, Roh saw that Kadaan looked much older than
he remembered. The bruises beneath his eyes were deep, and the lines around his mouth seemed to always draw his lips into a frown. But he was warm, and familiar, and for a little longer, Roh wanted to pretend nothing had happened to either of them. He pulled on his trousers, wincing at the sight of his mangled knees, and crawled out of the shelter.

  The wind brought with it the smell of burning. Wisps of smoke curled through the air.

  “Is that us?” he asked Anavha, but Anavha was already babbling again about his wife.

  Saradyn still lay wrapped in a fireweed blanket, snoring near a banked fire. Roh could not see any other source of burning but the fires nearby, all of which were banked and nearly smokeless.

  “Anavha, what’s burning?” Roh asked again.

  Anavha hugged himself; he was trembling. “I don’t know about that. It’s just, Zezili–”

  A woman strode toward them, one with a tawny Dhai complexion but the flat features of a Dorinah. Roh saw something odd about her immediately. She moved too fast. Her skin was too clear. Something in her black eyes gave him pause. Roh limped forward and placed himself in front of Anavha. Anavha made some kind of strangled shriek and froze in place.

  “Who are you?” Roh asked in Dorinah. “Anavha wants to be left alone.”

  “He’s my husband,” the woman, Zezili, said. Her black hair was long and shiny, twisted back from her face in a single loop.

  “You don’t own him,” Roh said. “This is Dhai.”

  Behind him, Saradyn sat up, stretched, and yawned. Zezili’s gaze moved to him, and her eyes widened. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  Saradyn caught sight of her and laughed.

  Zezili roared at him and bolted past Roh, knocking Roh and Anavha out of the way. She tackled Saradyn and punched him square in the face. His nose burst, spewing blood.

  Roh, dumbfounded, watched them roll around in the turf.

  Kadaan came out just as Saradyn bit the woman’s cheek, spraying more blood.

  “Do we want to break this up?” Kadaan asked.

  “I don’t know,” Roh said. He glanced at Anavha. “What–”

  “He cut off her hand,” Anavha said. “And kidnapped me, I suppose. Well, it was Natanial, but it was for Saradyn.”

  Roh thought that interesting, as Zezili seemed to have both hands. Tira was risen, though, and Sina, and Oma. He supposed all things were possible. Why being kidnapped by Saradyn didn’t seem to bother Anavha at all was puzzling, though.