by Evan Winter
Tau had no time. He had to protect Zuri. He made a second attempt to stand but collapsed.
“Stop it!” Nyah said. “You’ve a demon wound. You took in energy, didn’t you? The damage the demon did to you in Isihogo has come into our world.”
Tau felt at his abdomen again; nothing.
“It is psychic damage. It cannot be seen, but it can kill.”
“Help me,” Tau said, reaching for Nyah.
Nyah recoiled.
“Help him, witch,” Kana said, coming to Tau’s aid. The men gripped wrists; Nyah glared, but helped; and they dragged Tau, groaning, to his feet and to the edge of the battlements.
Behind Tau, Tsiora let out a deep sigh. Nyah left Tau’s side and he would have fallen if not for Kana.
“My queen!” the vizier said.
“We are well,” Tsiora said. “We must warn everyone away from the youngling. It is no longer Entreated. It has been freed.”
She was alive, Tau saw. She was on her hands and knees in the courtyard, tears of blood etched on her weary face, but Zuri was alive.
Not far from her, Kellan and what remained of Scale Jayyed were crossing the courtyard, making their way to Odili. They were careful to avoid coming too close to the youngling, which seemed confused. It snuffed the air and moved its head back and forth, as if searching for something that had vanished.
It was, Tau realized, still focused on Isihogo. It was searching for Zuri. It would not find her. Her soul was wholly in Uhmlaba.
Odili shared the youngling’s confusion. He was searching for a way out of the noose tightening around his treacherous neck, but with Kellan and Scale Jayyed coming for him, he was trapped. Tau didn’t care. Damn the man, he thought, as Zuri wobbled to her feet, looked up, and gave him a crooked smile. He had to get down to her.
Tau took a step toward the stairs, muffled a yelp of pain, and crumpled against the battlement’s crenellations.
“You are damaged,” said Kana at the same time that Odili began to yell orders to his men.
“What?” Tau asked, not willing to believe his own ears. “What did he say?”
Odili’s men were hesitant, but his orders were their only chance and they followed them.
“He… he tell them attack fire-demon,” Kana said as Odili’s Indlovu set upon the youngling with their swords.
The creature’s reaction was instant. It left Isihogo, returning its senses to the world, and lashed out, clawing one of Odili’s men to death. It reared and blew flame into the sky, and when it came back down, Odili’s men had retreated. They were running for the broken gates, Odili far in front.
Kellan and Scale Jayyed went to intercept. They would catch him. They were closer to the gates. The dragon roared and, seeing so many running men, it blew flame.
Kellan was in front. He saw what was coming, yelled a warning to the scale, and dove aside. Uduak was running with Hadith and Themba. The three men were focused on Odili. They did not see the twisting ropes of flame shooting toward them. Jabari, behind them and taller, did. He threw himself into the three men, knocking them down.
The rest of the scale were not so lucky. The youngling’s blast exploded outward, smashing into a dozen of Tau’s sword brothers, killing them instantly. He saw Mshindi explode in flames, and another man, half his body on fire, flailed around screaming. It took Tau a breath, but he realized the burning man was Jabari. He’d fallen on top of Uduak, Hadith, and Themba, and the edge of the dragon’s fire had caught him.
The youngling roared, preparing a second blast, this one to kill the men who had survived. Zuri shouted, drawing attention to herself. The youngling swung its head to her and she raised her arms, the sleeves of her black Gifted robes falling to her elbows. Zuri was back in Isihogo, drawing power, and the youngling stiffened, caught on a puppet master’s strings. The second blast of fire did not come.
“It’s too soon,” Tau whispered, and it was.
Zuri cried out in Uhmlaba as the demons in Isihogo ripped at her, tearing her focus away and breaking the invisible strings that held the youngling in thrall. The dragon was free, had found its tormentor, and did not hesitate. It shot fire at Zuri, and there wasn’t even time for her to flinch. One breath she was there, arms outstretched, robes billowing against the incoming inferno, her skin glowing with reflected light, her eyes sparkling, beautiful, a woman beyond measure. Then the youngling’s fire hit, incinerating her, blasting her from existence.
Tau’s legs gave out. Kana couldn’t hold him and he crumpled to the battlement floor, his whole body shaking. And without knowing he did it, he wailed, doing what little he could to release the suffering from a body and soul that had been handed too much too soon.
“Nyah, we must bind the youngling,” said a voice Tau should recognize, but couldn’t.
“My queen, you must not. Your shroud… We have no Hex.”
“The coterie in the courtyard. Bring them to us. We will hold the dragon until they are here. Nyah, we are for Isihogo.”
“Tsiora! No!”
And Tau wailed.
“My father, the warlord, he comes and the traitor flees with his men.”
“We have the dragon. It is in our control.”
“My queen, you will not be able to hold it.”
“We will, for long enough. Hurry, Nyah, the coterie.”
And Tau wailed.
“Warlord! Hear us. We, queen of the Chosen, must speak!”
And from a distance, shouting. “Demon whore! I will burn this city and all your cities. I will cut the hearts from every soul that shares your evil blood.”
“Hold your warriors outside our walls, Warlord. We still pray for peace and do not wish our dragon to end that prayer with fire. We wish to tell of our betrayal.”
“Father! The Omehi queen speaks truth. She was betrayed.”
And Tau wailed, his mouth covered by a heavy and filthy hand that tasted of dirt and ash. Hot breath, close to his ear, shushing him.
“Kana, my son, have they told you what they did? A fire-demon set on the Conclave? It killed a hundred thousand, Kana! Women, children, our people. They died, every one, burning to death in a pyre three times the size of this city.”
Tau saw Zuri vanish in flame again, burned away to nothing.
“The shul is dead,” that distant and shouting voice continued, “and I will be our people’s vengeance. I will scour Xidda clean!”
“Kellan Okar, we demand you take Kana into custody.”
There was a scuffle.
More words from a nearby voice, accented and difficult to understand. “Tsiora? More treachery? You think this stop my father?”
“Warlord, we have your son and we offer a trade. His life and release for a season of peace.”
“Witch! I’ll slit your throat myself.”
“Not before our soldier cuts your son’s. A moon cycle, then. Retreat from our valley. Give us a moon cycle for your son’s life. Enough blood has been spilled these few nights. We have a dragon in this keep and the rage are on their way. A moon cycle, Warlord of the Xiddeen.”
Tau sobbed, wracking cries, as the big man, hand still covering his mouth, shushed and held him close.
“Swear it, Warlord. One moon cycle of peace and Kana is yours.”
“Demon Queen! I’ll cut the tongue from your lying mouth.”
“Swear it. We cannot restrain our dragon much longer. Swear it or the first to burn will be Kana!”
“I swear it, witch! One cycle of the moon. I swear it. Give me my son! I swear it and swear I’ll be back. I will come with every warrior of the Xiddeen and we will erase the blight of your people from the world.”
Tau opened his eyes. He was crouched and his tears blurred the stone beneath his knees and hands, making the ground seem an artist’s impression. He tried to stem the cries, halt the tears. He failed at both.
“Before your warriors and ours, we have made a binding oath. Kellan Okar, inkokeli of Scale Osa, send the warlord’s son to him.”
Footsteps, then a voice, accented, retreating. “Tsiora! I will speak with my father. I will try to make the warlord see sense. Tsiora, do not give up on peace!”
“Warlord Achak, the Conclave was not our doing. The man responsible is a traitor who sought our death. He has run from us, but you will have his head. This we promise, by the Goddess.”
“A traitor’s head? Demon whore, in my own time I will take all the heads I need.”
Tau scrubbed his eyes clear of tears, and Uduak’s hand lifted away from his mouth.
“Tau?” Uduak whispered.
Tau saw the queen standing tall. She had her hands behind her back, her shoulders squared as she looked out and down at the warlord and his army beyond her keep. She appeared imperious and it was a grand illusion, for Tau could see the panicked tremors in her hands.
“They’re leaving,” breathed Nyah. “My queen, the Goddess is great, they’re leaving.”
But not without a final word.
“We know your witches are dying,” shouted the warlord, near the edge of hearing. “We know it as we know that, in the coming cycles, you will have too few to call the fire-demons. We know it and offered you peace. You saw that as weakness, paying it back with the blood of our innocent. Queen of demons, what you saw was kindness, not weakness. Queen of demons, what you will see is vengeance, righteous in cause and unholy in deliverance.”
If the warlord said more, Tau could not hear it.
“The coterie is coming up.” It was Hadith.
“We cannot hold the youngling,” Queen Tsiora said. “Quickly, she must be re-bound before it is too late.”
Tau let his broken swords fall from his fingers. They were as useless on the battlement floor as they had been in his hands. The people he loved died either way.
EPILOGUE
TSIORA OMEHIA
“He’s broken, my queen,” Nyah said to her. “Demon-haunted, in the assessment of the Sah priests. He’s been in that room since we held the burning for those we lost.”
Tsiora turned away from Nyah and toward the closed door in front of her. “Have the warriors, his sword brothers, seen to him?”
Nyah, the woman Tsiora trusted above all others, the one who had risked her life to train her to use her gifts in secret, told her they had. “The men, his sword brothers, come. He won’t speak to them or anyone else. And he has not gone to see the Petty Noble who survived the youngling’s fire.”
“How is the Petty Noble?”
“He suffers, my queen, he suffers.” Nyah closed her eyes as if trying to block out some horrible sight. “My queen, you risk too much. You saw what he did to Odili’s Ingonyama. You saw the way he fights. He’s an animal, and was that way before losing the woman to the youngling. There’s nothing left in him to which you can appeal.”
“We disagree. You did not see him fight the demons in Isihogo to save the Gifted initiate. He took power into himself to draw them away from her. He fought demons while holding power… He is…” She didn’t know what he was. “Nyah, he has lost loved ones. Their loss made him lose hope. We must return hope, if he is to be of use.”
“As your vizier, I ask you to reconsider.”
Tsiora would not. Her mind was made.
“Then, allow me to send guards with you,” Nyah said. “We do not know how this man will react. He’s unstable, dangerous.”
Tsiora didn’t want to admit it, but she was scared to be in a room with him, the Common of Kerem. She couldn’t afford to behave that way, though. If her plan was to have any chance of success, they would need to trust each other. “You have seen him fight, Nyah. Do you know any guards he could not kill?”
Nyah looked helpless, flustered. When she was younger, Tsiora used to love doing that to Nyah, but since Tsiora had become queen, a flustered Nyah often meant Tsiora was about to do something of rare and impressive stupidity.
Unwilling to wait and lose her nerve, Tsiora reached out for the leather-wrapped package in her vizier’s arms. “Wait for us,” she told Nyah, taking the package and opening the door to Tau Solarin’s room in the Guardian Keep.
He was standing beside his bed. His head had stubble. His face as well. He wore a loose tunic that could not hide the whipcord muscle beneath. He had on ash-gray breeches and was barefoot. He was staring out the window at the work below, watching the repairs. The gates were up, but the damage to the courtyard would take longer to mend, a lot longer.
Tsiora laid her package, lighter than she’d expected, on the bed, thinking it strange to see the man without his swords. The night Odili had tried to assassinate her, the Common’s blades had seemed part of him.
“Tau Solarin, we need your help,” she said to his back. He did not respond, this strange Lesser. Tsiora came closer. She could see out the window. She knew what he was looking at. Down in the courtyard was the place where the dragon had killed the Gifted he cared for.
“Tau Solarin,” Tsiora said, hovering her hand above his arm and then, daring herself, letting it fall on his shoulder. He did not react. “Abasi Odili is in Palm City. He controls it now and has most of the Royal Nobles swearing fealty to our younger sister. It is claimed that, of her own free will, our dear sister has seen the righteous nature of Odili’s cause. She has declared him her champion and herself the true queen of the Chosen. Queen Esi. It sounds innocent enough, don’t you think?”
He still didn’t speak.
“We have come with an offer.”
“How did you do it?”
She jumped at his voice, at the metal in it.
“How did you push me out of Isihogo?”
Tsiora considered the question, wondering what to tell him. She settled on the truth. “We are of royal blood. Royal blood runs closest to the Goddess. We have greater gifts than all others. When we saw the danger to you, we used a type of enervation. Queen Taifa, though not the first to use this particular gift, named it ‘expulsion.’ With it, we can forcibly remove anyone, including those holding energy, from Isihogo.”
“You could have saved her then,” he growled, scaring her, though she didn’t want to admit it. “You could have gotten her out, and she could have gotten away. She should not have been there. She should not have tried to—”
“We could not,” Tsiora told him. “A dragon’s hold cannot be broken. Expulsion, cast on Gifted Zuri, would have had no effect. We had to wait until the youngling released her on its own.”
“Then, you should have let me save her!”
“You could not have done so and would have died in the attempt.”
He faced her, his dark eyes and scarred face frightening in their intensity. Tsiora felt the need to step back. She locked eyes with him instead. “We need your help, Tau Solarin.”
“I can’t help you.”
It wasn’t said because he blamed her for the Gifted’s death. The initiate sacrificed herself, and neither of them could have stopped that. Instead, she heard self-pity. He wallowed in his loss, set adrift. She would anchor him. “Tau Solarin, the queendom has been torn in two, and in less than a moon cycle, the warlord will return to commit genocide. The Nobles, led by our Royals, have divided the Chosen at the worst possible time. This cannot be allowed. The Goddess made us one people, and our survival rests on the Omehi acting as such.
“To accomplish what must be done, to reunite Noble and Lesser, we need a man like you. We need a man who faced Indlovu, Ingonyama, Xiddeen, demons, and dragons to be our champion. We need a hero to help us rebuild what has been broken.”
“I’m no hero.”
“You are to the Lessers. You are to the people who still fight for us.”
“I am no hero.”
Tsiora made her voice hard. “Then be a weapon.”
That surprised him. She could see it in his rough-edged face.
“Our champion’s first task is one of vengeance. Our champion will lead his closest men, and the armies that remain loyal to us, to the walls of Palm City. He will quell the rebellion and rescue our sister
. He will right the wrongs the traitor has wrought on both our people and the Xiddeen. Our champion will kill Abasi Odili, in the name of the queen, in our name.”
She gave him a breath to absorb it, and, unable to hide from what it would mean for the queendom and for her, she gave voice to the question she had come to ask. “Tau Solarin, will you be our champion?”
She shut her reservations away as best she could and moved to the bed, picking up and handing Tau the long leather package. Without curiosity he opened it, revealing the guardian swords she had had made for him. She heard his intake of breath as he saw the weapons, and, unable to help himself, he reached out, touching them, running his hands over the dragon-scale blades.
His hands stopped at the hilts, the hilts from his father’s and grandfather’s swords. With reverence, this strange and vicious Lesser took up the perfectly balanced and impossibly sharp weapons. He twirled them and the thought flashed in Tsiora’s mind that he could kill her before she could call out.
Swords still in hand, he stepped close, so close she could feel the heat emanating from his body. They were the same height, she noted as his eyes bored into hers. She licked her lips. They’d gone dry. More, she wanted to know why she couldn’t pull her eyes from his, why she felt ensorcelled by the fire in them.
“I will kill Abasi Odili,” he told her.
It frightened her, the way he’d said it, but she would not balk. “We consider that a ‘yes,’ Champion Tau Solarin.”
And, like that, there was no going back. A dragon had been called, and someone would have to die.
GRATITUDE
I want to say thanks.
I want to say it to Joey for being this book’s first reader. His encouragement gave me the confidence to believe in my work. I want to say it to Malik for never being too busy to read a few more pages. He helped me realize this could be special. I want to say it to Anthony for making sure I never forgot the fundamentals of storytelling. He made me better.
Most of all, I want to say thanks to Helen Zdriluk, my high school drama teacher and friend. She taught me to believe in the value of creativity, gave me a chance to prove I could say something worthwhile, and pointed out the path that has determined my life.
