Truthmarked (The Fatemarked Epic Book 2)

by David Estes

  Reaching the peak of another dune, Raven could barely imagine there being a city out there: the dunes marched endlessly from horizon to horizon, crashing waves of sand, always moving, always shifting, blown by the hot thrust of the wind. Staring out across the desert now, she could almost believe that it had swallowed people whole in the past.

  Fire was five dunes ahead now. Raven had a feeling that if it was up to her sister, Fire would attack the Southron Gates all on her own.

  And she’d probably win, she mused.

  Finally, she allowed herself a laugh, spurring Iknon forward until she’d caught up to her sister, the warrior empress.

  When they camped after the first day in the desert, the mood was weary but upbeat. None had perished, save for one of the smaller guanik, which was bitten by a large black scorpion. The poison acted quickly, leaving most of the meat uncontaminated. They would not waste the beast’s sacrifice, so fires were lit and the meat was cooked, spiced with atmaran and sage and cintar, an aromatic mix of flavors known in Calypso as mixa. Everyone ate merrily, washing the fiery meat down with guzzles from their waterskins. Though it would take them four long, sweltering days to reach Kesh, they had plenty of water so there was little need to ration. None drank simpre, not even Goggin, for the strong drink was dehydrating.

  Afterwards, several soldiers started a song circle, and it didn’t surprise Raven to find Goggin at the center of it, bellowing in his deep, gruff voice.

  Fire watched everything from just outside her tent, idly passing flames between her fingers.

  Raven plopped down beside her, the sand warm and soft through her leathers. “You rode hard today,” she said.

  Fire flicked her thumb and the flame bounced, landing back on her palm. “I only know how to ride one way.”

  “Sister,” Raven said. Fire didn’t look at her, concentrating on making the flame spin in lazy circles. “Sister,” she insisted, and when Fire finally met her eyes, she said, “I don’t hold your victory over me against you the way Aunt Viper did against Maata. I am with you in this. I hope you know that. You’re not alone.”

  Fire chewed on her lip, paused, and then said, “I’ve been alone since the moment I was born.” With that, she snuffed out the flame between her fingers and crawled into her tent.

  Over the next two days, Raven tried to talk to her sister, but Fire grew more and more withdrawn, slipping into long periods of silence, riding far ahead of the rest of the guanero. Perhaps their mother’s death had hit Fire harder than she initially showed. Perhaps she was feeling the weight of responsibility on her shoulders in a way she never expected to. Or perhaps it was just the oppressive heat, which was beating down on all of them.

  By day three, no one talked when they camped. No one sang, not even Goggin, who rode hunched over, his head lolling on his shoulders. Four more guanik had died. One was the victim of another black scorpion, two had collapsed from exhaustion, and the last stumbled and broke its leg. The meat was not wasted, but it still seemed a great loss.

  Two soldiers had also died. One was naught but a boy, two years younger than even Fire, who was only sixteen. He’d gone off to make water, and when he didn’t return was searched for. He was found lying face down with two punctures in his neck. A cobra was discovered nearby, slashed in half by the boy’s last act. The other was a grizzled old veteran warrior, who’d simply passed in the night. His end was so peaceful that everyone assumed he was only sleeping in late, until someone tried to rouse him.

  On the morning of the fourth day, Raven joined Fire before they started their march. The young empress was staring out across the dunes, searching the horizon. “What do you see?” Raven asked.

  “Wastelands,” Fire said.

  “If not for these wastelands, our eastern foes might’ve invaded us long ago. Faata’s armies too.”

  “Perhaps. But is this land really worth winning?”

  Day by day, Raven’s sister was becoming a stranger to her. “How can you say that? This is our home.”

  Fire shook her head. “No. You are my home. Whisper. Maata was my home. Home is not a place. Home is your family.”

  Raven had never heard her sister talk like this, so passionately about family. “You surprise me,” she said.

  Fire laughed lightly. “I know you think I have no heart, sister. I know you think I’m the edge of a blade, made for only one thing.”

  It was Raven’s turn to laugh. “You know my mind better than I do.”

  “Yes, I have always wanted to be empress, but not for the power, not to control the most powerful army in the south. No. I wanted it so you didn’t have to wear the dragon crown, sister. I was born with the firemark, not you. It’s my responsibility, my burden to bear. Mine alone.”

  Raven had no idea her sister felt this way. She’d hidden her heart well, behind a veil of bravado and strength. All these years… “I don’t know what to say. Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  Fire squinted into the distance, as if searching for the answer amongst the dunes. “I didn’t want your pity. I needed you to think me brash, overconfident. I wanted you to bring your best into the arena, so you would judge me worthy of leading.”

  Raven shook her head. “I always knew you were worthy. I always knew you were strong. But I withheld love so many times. I gave it to Whisper instead, because I thought she needed it more.”

  “Yes,” Fire said. “That’s what I wanted.”

  Raven rested her hand on her sister’s arm, surprised that her typically fiery skin was quite cool to the touch. “You are not alone. I will stand by your side for whatever comes.”

  Fire reached across her body and rested her hand atop Raven’s. “Thank you. I could not ask for a braver ally.”

  Raven nodded. She gestured to the dunes. “We may not reach Kesh by nightfall. Four days is the estimate for one rider. We have many on foot.”

  “We must,” Fire said. “We will. Come on, the day has wings.”

  Raising her sword in the air, flames danced from her fingers and up the edge of the blade, signaling the start to the day’s march.

  Raven watched her sister ride down the hill.

  Strangely, the heat of the morning seemed to sizzle around her, making her form fuzzy around the edges, until she faded into a fiery smudge against the sand.

  Almost ghost-like.

  Twenty-Three

  The Southern Empire, Southeast of the Bloody Canyons

  Jai Jiroux

  If the night prior was sheathed in moonlight, the next eve was speckled with starlight. It was almost magical, the harsh terrain. Thousands of galanzealas lit the landscape. The abundant desert plant hid from the sun during the day, pulling itself into a crustacean-like brown shell that soaked up the light, turning it into food. At night, its shell opened and dozens of tendrils climbed toward the sky, glowing purple. It was between these beautiful night plants that Jai and the Black Tears now led his people. Jig and the other children ran from plant to plant excitedly, collecting glowing leaves. Jai could tell the adults were equally awed by nature’s display, but held back.

  Before they’d gone too far, Jai stopped them. Sonika raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, waiting to see what he would do.

  He raised his voice so enough could hear him to pass his message back through the throng. “As you know, we are marching to the wall. There, we hope to escape to the west, where we can finally be free.” Murmurs of excitement rippled through the crowd, but Jai silenced them with a hand in the air. “However, the way is more dangerous than you can imagine. I will not lie to you. Even if we make it through the mountains, we will face sword and arrow as we cross to the Southron Gates. Many will die, sacrificing themselves so some of us can make it. I cannot promise you safety.”

  “It sounds like suicide,” someone called out.

  “It’s not,” Jai said. “But it’s close enough. We hope our unexpected approach will be enough to surprise Hoza’s soldiers, but that will not prevent bloodshed.”


  “What are you saying?” someone else asked. “That we should turn back?”

  Defiance coursed through the throng.

  “No,” Jai said. “I’m only saying you have a choice. You can hide in the Black Rocks or you can attempt to find a way across the Burning Sea on a ship. Or, if you go back to Phanea of your own will, the emperor may see fit to forgive, to welcome you back into his service.”

  “Into slavery you mean.”

  Jai nodded. “Yes. Into slavery. But at least you will be alive. I cannot necessarily offer you the same.”

  “Slavery is the same as death,” someone shouted. Murmurs of agreement rose up.

  Jai nodded again. “If any choose to turn back, let them decide now. There may not be another opportunity.”

  Heads swiveled, looking at each other. None moved back. In fact, most took a step forward. “We’re with you,” someone said.

  “Then let us march to freedom,” Jai said, offering the three-fingered salute. His people returned it, thousands of hands raised in the dark, lit by moonlight and galanzealas.

  Satisfied, he turned back toward the desert. Feet shuffled behind him.

  “Nice speech,” Sonika said.

  “Thanks,” Jai said uncertainly, not sure if he was being mocked or complimented. “I am no master.”

  “You don’t have to keep saying that.”

  “I—I know. I just want them to have a choice. They should always have a choice.”

  “And that’s what makes you a great leader,” Sonika said. “Because they follow you of their own free will. Just like my Tears.”

  As they walked under the protection of darkness, Jai scanned ahead, his eyes adjusting quickly to the murky evening. To the north were the towers of red rocks that surrounded the Bloody Canyons. It was toward those bloody spires that they now headed, as quickly as they could, for they were naked and unprotected on the dustlands, with Hoza’s stronghold in the square canyons of Phanea only a day’s hard ride away to the northwest, hidden somewhere beneath the surface of the desert.

  To Jai’s surprise, he longed to return to the maze-like cauldron of the Black Rocks. At least there they were hidden from Hoza’s soldiers.

  And yet, the further they journeyed across the dustlands, the greater his hope grew. If they could just get to the red rocks, they’d have a real chance, however slim.

  Nearby, Axa walked alone, his head down, his back bent. Already he was looking more like a slave than a master. Several bandages hung from his chest, arms and face like peeling flesh. After what happened a night before, when Joaquin ripped the jewels from his skin, Jai bandaged the man up. Now he kept an eye on Axa, just in case Joaquin tried anything else. In one hand, Axa held his mirror, his only remaining possession.

  Jai turned his attention away from his former mine master when Sonika Vaid pulled back from the head of the throng to speak to him. “Your people are strong. They move quickly, even the elderly and children. How is this thing possible? How are they not broken?”

  “I trained them. Not only did their strength help them mine more diamonds, which satisfied the emperor, but I wanted them to be ready for…well, for this.”

  Sonika shook her head. “You are…unusual. Most masters break their slaves, you strengthen them.”

  “Yes, and I prefer phen lu to phen ru, and I lived and ate with my people, and I helped them mine, and—”

  “I get your point. I’ll stop asking.”

  Jai took a deep breath. “Sorry. I’m overprotective sometimes.”

  “It’s fine. I understand.”

  “Also, the day of rest did them well.” After their long march through the Black Rocks, they’d lounged and slept the heat of the day away, sticking to the shade and drinking plenty of water. No one had complained about waiting for the sun to go down before leaving—not only would it be cooler but the darkness would mask them better than anything else as they traveled across the plains. “And yes, I worked them hard in the mines to sate the Slave King’s lust for diamonds, but I treated them as well as I could. A free person toils far better than a slave.”

  “How did you accomplish this?” Sonika asked. “When your people have escaped Phanes, I will return to the south and use the information to repeat your work.”

  “You would return?” All Jai had ever wanted was to leave the south with his people, never to look back.

  “There are too many others who need us.”

  Jai felt selfish. He rarely thought of those slaves toiling in the other mines, or even in the cities. He was too focused on those slaves he felt he could help. The others faded into the background, gray figures that vanished like mist, almost ghost-like. They are ghosts, he thought. We all are.

  “You are a good person,” Jai said.

  “So are you,” Shanti said, pulling up on his other side, her cart rattling behind her. Though Jai walked, their horses moved slow enough to stay with him.

  His heart did a quick flip at the sight of her, especially after the moment they’d shared high on the cliffs. He didn’t know how to respond to such a compliment, especially when he wasn’t certain it was deserved. “I am just one man.”

  “Well I didn’t expect you to be two men,” Shanti said, raising a light eyebrow. A smile played tug of war with her lips.

  Laughing, Sonika dug her heels into her horse and galloped ahead to convene with the rest of her warriors. Shanti, however, stayed behind with Jai.

  Jai watched the rebel leader go. “What’s her story?” he asked.

  “Sonika’s? She doesn’t talk about her past much.”

  “But you’ve been with her for a while now, right? You must know something.”

  “She had a brother once,” Shanti said.

  “He died?”

  “I don’t think so. They were separated somehow. She mentioned him once in passing, but refuses to say anything else. I think it hurts too much. I think they started all this together, but I’m not certain.”

  “Oh.”

  “You seem different today,” she said. “Like the door you opened last night has been shut and barred with iron.”

  I have always been a closed door, Jai wanted to say. At least until he spoke with her last night. And yet he’d still held so much back. He’d only just met her; why should he share so much of himself with her? “Things break when left unprotected,” he said. “People included.”

  “Sometimes a bone must be broken and then healed in order to grow stronger.”

  Jai raised both eyebrows. “Is that true?”

  “Honestly?” Shanti said, laughing. “I don’t rightly know. I heard the saying once and it stuck.”

  Jai chuckled back. He felt like he’d already been broken too many times. Once more and he wouldn’t be able to heal again. “So besides memorizing nonsensical old sayings and blowing things up with fireroot powder, do you have any other hidden talents I should know about?”

  “Rotzoff!” she exclaimed.

  “What?”

  “It’s a common curse word used by the people of Anatoli.”

  Jai frowned. “First, I don’t even know where Anatoli is, and second, why are you telling me this?”

  “Anatoli is a small island off the coast of Robunka. And you asked about my talents. I can swear in seven languages, much to my mother’s chagrin.”

  Despite the fact that Jai didn’t know where Robunka was either, he burst out laughing. “Fair enough. I suppose multilingual swearing could be considered a talent of sorts.”

  Shanti said, “Let’s play a game. I share something and then you reciprocate.”

  Jai considered the offer. “I’ll play. What does your name mean?”

  She smiled. “What you ask is no secret. I’ll give you this information for free. Shanti Parthena Laude means Peaceful Maiden of Highest Honor.” When she saw his surprise, she added, “Yes, it is a lot to live up to. Sometimes I wish my parents had named me something with lower…expectations.”

  “Still,” Jai said, “it suits you.”r />
  She looked at him slyly. “Really?”

  “Well, maybe not the ‘peaceful’ part considering your talent with fireroot…”

  “Hey!”

  He ignored her protest. “But you are certainly a maiden, and given your focus on freeing slaves I’d say you are of the highest honor.”

  She blinked. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Do I get to ask another question?”

  “No. This is my game, so I decide the rules. First, choose a tear. Any of them. I will tell you its story.” She dismounted and walked beside him, leading her mare.

  Jai studied her face, those seventeen tears. Once he would’ve thought each tear contained an action-packed tale of her prowess in battle, but after last night he knew they were full of sadness, like real tears darkening on her cheeks. Still, the game was a wonderful excuse to examine her smooth red skin, the faint lines in her forehead, the curves of her nose, her jaw, her lips. “The one beneath your right eye,” he said.

  “I have many tears. Show me.” She shifted closer.

  Jai’s skin grew warmer, despite the relatively cool night air. Shanti’s eyes were blue and round in the typical Teran manner, but in the moment when her eyes blinked open there was a flash of silver around the edges that he could see even in the dark. Every time he looked at this woman he seemed to notice something new. Something more spectacular about her. He reached out a hand, extended a shaking finger, and touched the spot he was referring to. The black tear etched on her face was smooth, flawless, a work of art. Like you, he wanted to say.

  “My first tear,” Shanti said, and he retracted his hand. “For my sister. Aliyah.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  She cut him off. “It’s fine. I speak of my tears freely; they are my best and worst memories, those stories I hold nearest to my heart.”

  “Still. I’m sorry you lost her.”

  Shanti nodded her thanks. “My mother was a slave,” she started. Jai cocked his head to the side, having not expected her story to start that way, so similar to his own. “It’s true. My father, too. Aliyah and I were marked as slaves the moment we were old enough.”