by Gail Dayton
“No.” She shook her head, holding her skin tight together over her shattered self. “I won't have it. I won't have him."
“He has the mark, Kallista,” Torchay said. “We've seen it. We all miss Stone, but you can't—"
“I can.” A tiny piece of her vicious agony snarled out of her mouth, before she got the rest pushed back. “I can do anything I want. I am Reinine of all Adara. No one rules me."
She couldn't stay here any longer, couldn't keep holding her skin closed like this. Kallista spun and walked out of the room, ignoring the pain that raked through her at every step. It would be worse if she let it out. Her whole being was nothing but pain, and if she let it escape, the only thing left to her would be an empty, flapping skin.
"Kallista." Viyelle followed her. “Please. This won't help. You're not the only one who misses Stone. He shared my bed more nights than he did yours, but the—"
“He shared my soul.” Kallista whirled on the younger woman. Sparks hissed at her fingertips, called by the depth of her anger and pain. She shook them away and pressed her hands against the place in the pit of her stomach where she felt the links the strongest, trying to push away her anguish. “He was here, inside me. A part of me. I will not replace that with some—some grubby thief."
In her peripheral vision, she could see the thief in question, in the crowd that had spilled into the corridor, saw him wince at her description. She didn't care. He didn't matter. She walked away from the traitors.
“The demons—” Obed followed. They all followed, curse them.
“Put these on.” Keldrey thrust her gloves at her. He must have pulled them from Torchay's belt.
Kallista ignored him, hissed at him when he grabbed her hand and slapped a glove across her palm.
“Put them on now,” he ordered. “If you're so far out of control you're throwin’ sparks, I'm not havin’ you without gloves even were you the One Herself. Put ‘em on."
Snarling at him, Kallista pulled her gloves on with swift, sharp jerks, still walking. She hated him. Hated all of them. She would hate them forever.
At least—she wanted to. And she would. If she didn't love them so much. That's what made it hurt like this.
“Kallista, think.” That was Joh. Mighty fond of thinking, he was. “You have to look at this sensibly. If—"
“No.” She shook her head so violently, she lost her balance for a moment. “I don't have to do anything I don't want to do. I'm the Reinine. The Godstruck. Sense and logic and reason have nothing to do with this. It's magic.” Hurt and anger overcoming her, she spun and shoved Joh away, hard enough to send him stumbling back. He'd have fallen if Fox hadn't caught him.
“Go. Away,” she said, very calmly and coldly. “I do not want to hear anything you have to say. Any of you. I don't want to look at you. If I could pull these links out by their roots, I would do it.” She stopped the quiver in her voice before she got any more shrill, before more than the one sob could escape.
“You don't mean that.” The anguish on Obed's face reflected the broken pieces inside her and Kallista shuddered.
“No.” She shivered again, but warded off Torchay when he would have come to her. “I don't know. Maybe. Maybe I do mean it. I just—” She shook her head, deliberately refusing to look at the stranger in their midst. “I can't do this now. I can't—I just—I need to be alone."
She held up her hand again, forestalling protests. “I know. I'm the Reinine, I have to have bodyguards. But Samri and Bay—whoever's on duty. I need to be alone, without any of you."
“Kallista—"
She saw the plea in Torchay's face, felt their concern and worry through the links. Somehow, it made everything worse. "Please." She backed down the hall. “Give me this. I won't—but if I do, you know how to follow. Please, just leave me alone."
This time, when she fled, they let her go. She could feel them, standing bunched together there in the corridor, feel them getting further away. She bathed and dressed, trying to keep her mind busy with Reinine's matters, but it kept circling back to Godstruck things. Why had the One done this to her?
Kallista kept moving, and gradually the sharp edges of this betrayal wore away enough that she could think. She'd been doing just fine with the magic she had. Granted, she hadn't actually faced any of the demons yet, however many there were. But her magic had grown stronger. She had more power now than she did when they'd faced the seven demons of the Barinirab rebellion.
“Namida Ambassador hasn't left yet to present our demand to the en-Kameral, has she?” Kallista addressed her bodyguard. The noon bell hadn't rung yet. “Send word that I'll be going with her. And Gweric. I want Gweric with me."
“Yes, my Reinine."
The attendant flurry of action to her order told her everything would be ready. Kallista contemplated ordering her iliasti to stay behind, but decided they could suit themselves. She didn't have to talk to them to draw their magic against demons. Leyja peeked in while Kallista ate lunch on a tray in her room, but she just went quietly away again.
All the godmarked were waiting in the courtyard, already mounted, when Kallista appeared for the ride to the Seat of Government. Including the man they were trying to foist on her.
“He stays.” Kallista tugged her gloves tighter.
“Who?” Torchay tried to pretend ignorance.
Kallista just looked at him.
“He's marked, Kallista. If you'd just look—"
She cut Torchay off with a gesture as she mounted. “He stays here. He is not one of us."
“He should be.” Torchay's mutter was just loud enough for her to hear it.
“No. He should not."
“What if the demons are there?” Obed edged his horse closer as Kallista signaled the captain. “Won't you need all your magic? You needed all nine to deal with Khoriseth before."
“Who says that Khoriseth is here? I have enough magic. I can do this.” She rode ahead, trying—and failing—to leave them behind. Except for him. He stayed in the embassy as ordered.
This time, the en-Kameral was inside when Kallista and her party arrived. Namida Ambassador scurried up the stairs beside Kallista, whispering instructions the whole way. “The escort must remain outside—but close, in case they mislike what we have to say—and I do not expect smiles and cheers."
Namida almost wrung her hands in her agitation. “The bodyguards can accompany you, thank the One. After all, the Kameri have their champions. And be silent. Please. Let me read the document. You merely add the weight of your presence. We go in. I read the message. I hand the paper to the page. We go out. Short and simple. Agreed?"
“Agreed.” Kallista found a grim smile for the ambassador and gestured her to lead the way.
Namida stepped up to the podium facing the executive council's dais. Kallista seated herself in the throne-like chair behind the podium, Obed at her side. He was still officially her Reinas in this place. This time, the Godmarked did not sit, but ranged themselves with the bodyguards around their Reinine.
The paper did not take long to read. Though couched in diplomatic language, it clearly stated the Adaran demand. Halfway through it, Gweric came to crouch beside Kallista's chair. “I see demon's workings."
Kallista sat up straight. She should have expected it, but she hadn't, not truly. She had done all those things at the skola and the trial arena, and nothing happened. Why now?
She opened her eyes to the dreamplane and saw the dark glow of fresh demonstain. It was working to influence the minds of the Kameri, harden their hearts. But where was the demon?
Kallista called magic, hauling it out of her godmarked fast enough to make them gasp. She was stronger, her magic-using muscles more fit. She could do this with the magic she had. She didn't need anyone else. Anyone new.
She shaped her demon-hunter, added on the destroyer magic so that what it found, it would destroy and what it destroyed, it would track to the source and leave nothing behind. She centered herself under it, like a l
aborer preparing to lift a heavy load, and shoved with everything she had.
The magic crept out. It didn't slide back, kept moving outward, but it was in no hurry. It had power, understanding, truth, will—everything it needed but eagerness. Joy.
How could that thief replace Stone's bright joy in the magic? He couldn't. Impossible.
Kallista rolled onto her metaphysical back and kicked at the magic with both metaphysical feet, moving it along a bit faster. It began to pick up speed, humming with purpose. Just as it passed the outermost person in her circle of godmarked—Viyelle—it burst against an impenetrable wall, flaring so bright, Kallista had to look away.
Gweric and Joh hid their eyes from the flash, and Torchay, and some of the Daryathi in the chamber. But most paid no attention to the magic's death.
"No." Kallista squeezed the cry between her teeth. Only those nearest her noticed. She called magic again, more of it.
“Time to go.” Torchay signaled her duty guard who lifted her from her seat. “The paper's been presented,” he said. “They have their copy."
“Wait. I—” She sent this magic out, willing it to break through the barrier. Instead, the magic was broken upon it. Again.
Her second duty guard took Kallista's other arm and together they half-carried her from the chamber. Not so fast they appeared to be fleeing, but fast enough.
“There were demons,” she protested. “Gweric saw them. I have to—"
“Get to safety before the demon can stir them to attack. Or attack us itself.” Torchay directed the retreat with a lift of an eyebrow, a tilt of his head.
“It hasn't, not the whole time we've been here.” She let him push her out the doors to the building.
“Goddess, Kallista, don't—” Torchay's voice held strain.
“Taunt it? Why not? It's afraid.” She twisted in his grip. “Come out, Khoriseth! I dare you. Zughralithiss, come fight me!” She'd been given only two names from the same unknowable source where the names had come before. That should mean there were only two demons.
The air outside the Seat of Government seemed to pause, hovering motionless as if time itself waited to see what happened. The moment stretched. Kallista gathered magic into her hands, just in case.
Torchay hustled her down the steps, the others close behind, weapons in their hands. When they reached the bottom, Kallista laughed. She let the magic go. “You see? Cowards."
It hit her. Slammed her flat inside her magical shields.
Kallista screamed, drawing magic fast and hard, wrapping it around her godmarked, around all her people. The pull of magic on the heels of the attack staggered Torchay and she broke away from him to run back up the stairs. She needed to get inside, close enough to see the demon, to crush it.
She shaped her magic and shoved it out, unable to send it flying. The tendrils of demon stuff coiling out from the building snapped at her magic, quenching some of its power, but couldn't keep her from cutting off great chunks of its dark essence, shredding them into nothingness.
Fox caught her, kept her from dashing into the building as more of the demon came boiling out after them. She grappled for magic, struggled to shape all that came pouring into her. The demon's inky darkness built higher, blacker. Gweric cried out, voicing the dread she felt, but she couldn't give in to it. She had to direct the magic, form it into a weapon that would rid the world of this foulness.
The demon shrieked, shattering her concentration. She lost her hold on the magic, and the demon fell on them, on all eight of them at once.
Kallista felt their pain as she felt her own, magnified through their links. She fought to keep from feeding it back to them again, the way she shared out the pleasure. She fought to take hold of the magic, to use it, to—she couldn't think, could only send a wild, wordless, desperate prayer to the One for help before she lost all consciousness.
* * * *
Thank heaven. She was down. Torchay took Kallista's limp body from Fox, passed her to Obed who passed her to Joh already mounted. They had to get out of here before anything worse happened, before the demon could organize a physical attack. So far, Kallista's protective veil held against the demon, but Torchay didn't want to trust it too long. Nor did he think it would hold up against musket balls or crossbow bolts.
As Torchay swung onto his horse, he noted with approval that all the troopers had their weapons loaded and held at the ready, pointing down past their stirrups at the street. Joh had had the foresight to insist their escort receive the first of the new cavalry carbine pistols. They only carried a single shot, but their greater range ought to keep the mob at bay a little longer. The escort hadn't carried them until recently, when the riots had spread.
Gweric looked with his missing eyes back at the Seat.
Torchay didn't like that look, not at all. “Let's ride,” he shouted. “Before it decides to take another slap at us."
“Why isn't it?” Fox pushed his horse into a non-existent gap beside Torchay. “Kallista's out. She can't help us. Why not finish us off?"
“She hurt it.” Gweric held on with both hands as they hurried through the cobbled streets as fast as the horses could manage. “I saw that. When she went down, the magic flared."
“Destroyed?” Obed asked hopefully.
Gweric shook his head.
“Does the demon have to be close to attack directly?” Torchay asked. “The way Kallista does? She can't hurt it if she's too far away. Is the demon the same?"
It was half a block before Gweric answered. “I don't know."
“What do you know?” Obed snapped.
“Very little."
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Seven
When they reached the embassy and dismounted, Gweric spoke again. “This is what I know,” he said. “The demon that attacked us is very old and very powerful. Stronger than any I have seen before, including, I think, Khoriseth. I never actually saw Khoriseth in Arikon, but I saw what it left behind. This demon makes Khoriseth look like a mewling kitten. I also know that Kallista hurt it. She didn't destroy it, but it is damaged."
He kept talking as they moved into the building. “This is what I believe, but do not know for certain. I believe Torchay Reinas is right, that the demon must be close—I do not know how close—to attack directly. Which likely explains why it has not attacked before now. Whatever the reason, I believe the damage Kallista dealt it gives us some time. How much time, I can't say.” He paused, suddenly looking his very young age. “I would plan for less and hope for more."
“Thank you, Gweric Naitan.” Torchay bowed to him, grateful for every bit of help and information they could get. “Could you perhaps stand watch? Warn us if the demon comes this way?"
The young naitan gave a brusque nod. “I will, Tayo."
Torchay blew out a gusting sigh, striding after Joh as he carried Kallista deeper into the embassy. Leyja trotted at his side, trying to check their Reinine's condition. Now what?
“Goddess, what a mess.” Obed voiced Torchay's own thoughts, scowling at the floor as he stalked along beside him.
“Truth.” Torchay heaved some of the burden onto his ilias. “What should we do? What can we do?"
“The embassy is as secure as arms, men and warding magic can make it. What's left is—” Obed hesitated.
Torchay waited for him to admit the truth to himself.
“It's Kallista,” the dark man finally said. “She is our weak point. Her stubbornness..."
“Could get us all killed.” Torchay followed Obed into the room they both shared now with Kallista, where the ilian had gathered. All the players were present, though Kallista was still unconscious. This behavior wasn't like her. He did not understand it. Nor did he know what to do about it.
Joh laid her carefully on the bed. Torchay looked round. “Where's Padrey?"
“Next room,” Keldrey said. “He kept tryin’ to follow. Actin’ wild. I finally had to lock him up."
Torchay glanced at Joh, then to Fox. Their
long-queued ilias had been in prison when he'd been marked, had tried to claw his way through the walls to reach Kallista. Fox had walked hundreds of leagues, most of them in a daze of compulsion to find the Godstruck. “Did it hit you so quick?” Torchay asked.
Joh frowned. “It's hard to remember that time, but no—I don't think so."
“Fox?” Torchay asked for confirmation.
“I couldn't tell you. I was injured, healing. It was weeks before I could move at all. Who knows what was injury and what was the mark? But the need to find her seemed to build slowly."
“If the madness has hit him sooner than expected,” Aisse said, “what does it mean?"
Torchay didn't know, didn't want to say what he suspected.
“It means we are out of time,” Obed said. “I think that if we had the luxury of time, Kallista would eventually accept what has happened. She knows that this is the One's choice, the One's gift. Her heart is sore, but it is soft. And she is wise. Her resistance would wear away in a few days’ time."
“But we don't have a few days,” Joh said. “Do we?"
Torchay sighed. He didn't want to do this. Only the One knew whether Kallista would ever forgive him. “We may not have even a full chime of the clock. We also have no choice."
“No choice about what?” Leyja's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“We have to force it. We have to make sure she ... links with Padrey.” Torchay felt sick at the thought, as if he would disgrace himself on the nearest boots.
“We should at least give her the choice first,” Viyelle protested. “Wake her up, explain. Then, if she still doesn't..."
“Should we wake her?” Obed brushed his fingertips across her forehead. “Can we?"
“I agree with Viyelle,” Keldrey said. “Give her one more chance."
“Yes.” Aisse climbed onto the bed, patted the unconscious woman's cheek. “Wake up. Kallista, wake up."
Consensus apparently reached, for no one tried to stop Aisse, Torchay leaned against the wall, arms folded, trying to control the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Over the years he'd done thousands of things “for her own good"—forced food down her, slipped sedatives into her wine so she would sleep, carried her to safety over her furious protests. He had been her bodyguard for almost a decade before he became ilias. But he'd never gone this far.
