His eyes twinkled with malevolent humor. I bit my lip as I realized something – I was like him. I thought I had it all worked out and that everyone else had to dance to my tune. No more. From here on, I would prove I was not him, and not my assassin mother. I was Tylira Nyota, and I would be everything they were not.
“You wouldn’t say that if you thought I could succeed,” I said.
“Oh, you can succeed. But you won’t survive your success.”
“You’d kill me even after I saved this world?” I said, my hands clenching into fists.
“You misunderstand,” he said, and now he really did smile with the irony of his words. “The only way for you to restore this world is for you to die – you and your half-brother Catane. Your magic unweaves reality without you even meaning to. Your dreams pick at the outer threads, your emotions singe the sides of it. Every moment of anger or impatience weakens the whole. You are all of us – fuelled by self, demanding our own way, with every desire we set our world on fire and dance in the flames.”
“So, you’re a philosopher, “ I said. “My father, the murderous philosopher.”
He shrugged, “As good a name as any, I suppose. And you are the designated sacrifice. You can only die for the good of us all, and hope – desperately – that there is love after all of this.”
I was shaking. I didn’t know when it started. I couldn’t have defined my emotions in that moment if I’d been asked to, although a single tear rolled down my face. Did that mean I was sad?
“And will there be love?” I asked, my words hollow. Rusk took my hand, but it felt like lead. I couldn’t even hold his back.
“Beyond the grave?” my father asked. “I doubt it, but it’s something that fools and mothers say.”
“And are you planning to kill me now?” I asked. My tongue felt like my mouth was full of dust. It was surreal to speak of my own death as if I was negotiating the price of a loaf of bread. I’d searched all through Axum for an answer to something he’d known all along. And now that I’d found it, nothing could devastate me more.
I closed my eyes. I needed to think. I saw Rusk’s face in my mind, and his sister, and Graxx and the children of the Black Talon. Perhaps, it was finally time for me to stop being so lost and to find my way at last. I didn’t want to go home because home was selfishness and heartlessness. I needed to find a different way to what lay beyond – to love and sacrifice. Somehow those words didn’t feel quite as heavy as they once had.
“Are you saying you would die?” he asked.
I started to reply, to say something that would delay the inevitable, but the throne room filled suddenly with screams.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A GASH OPENED IN THE air before the throne and warriors spilled out from it, while from the back of the room a crash and the sound of splintering wood filled the room. A flood of Veen soldiers surged forward from the entrance to the throne room.
Catane ran through the gash, sword brandished. He scanned the room, and then his eyes locked on us. He sprang forward just as Rusk shoved Evanessa behind himself. Catane’s sword arced toward Rusk, but I’d recovered enough to grasp the threads of it and pull, unweaving it in his hand. Lightnings flashed on either side, sending Catane’s soldiers flying and striking one of the High Tazmin’s soldiers dead where he stood. There were many screams, but I didn’t know if they were from pain or from surprise.
Catane spun, grabbing Evanessa’s hand and pulling her out from Rusk’s protective grasp as Rusk was occupied fending off an attack from one of Veen’s soldiers. I turned my unweaving to the soldier, unweaving his heart where it beat in his chest. He dropped like a stone to the earth, but Evanessa was already out of reach, snatched away in Catane’s grasp. A wall of ko-marked soldiers forced themselves between us.
Catane had a dagger to Evanessa’s throat and I shuddered, remembering when he’d done the same thing to Rusk.
“I have your queen!” Catane called to the High Tazmin. “Well, one of them. I don’t mind harming this one. Maybe this time I’ll be the man with everything while you’re flung into another world with your true love stolen from you.”
The High Tazmin’s soldiers surrounded him in a defensive formation, the clash of their swords met the resistance of the Veen army. One side was clad in boiled leather armour and white markings, the other in black, gleaming segments but marked by glowing blue ko above their heads. It was easy to tell them apart, and easy to see that the soldiers of Veen outnumbered those of Canderabai ten to one. Any nobles who may have stood with the High Tazmin were dead or injured on the ground.
Amandera tried to dart forward to join Catane, but Rusk grabbed her roughly, putting his spatha to her throat. Was that a glint in his eye? Was he being clever, trying to negotiate a life for a life with Catane, or was he crazy? Amandera couldn’t be stopped by an empty threat.
“Your quarrel is not with me, but with your sister,” the High Tazmin said, pointing at me.
“I’ll get to her later,” Catane called over the screams and grunts of his men. His soldiers were well trained, fighting in complete co-ordination, and the High Tazmin’s men were being pressed backward.
“You’ll give me my sister, now!” Rusk yelled.
His hands were full and it took all my concentration to unweave fast enough to defend both Rusk and me. Catane glanced at us and in the moment that he was distracted, the High Tazmin wove a shield of air, driving it towards Catane and knocking the first few rows of soldiers off their feet.
“If see so much as one drop of her blood, I’ll throw this Tazminera out the window,” Catane yelled at Rusk.
“Then drop my sister!” he yelled.
“Catch,” Catane yelled, throwing Evanessa towards Rusk while he spun towards the High Tazmin unweaving a thread of the dais. The lightning shot out in three directions, shredding through the High Tazmin’s soldiers.
The High Tazmin darted forward, weaving a blast of power, like a massive battering ram, towards Catane. It glanced off Evanessa as she fled, knocking her forward into a soldier. The two of them crashed to the floor, and she screamed in pain. The battering ram kept going, smashing through the ranks and knocking men off their feet, screams and groans accompanying its progress. Catane dodged to the side and then scrambled forwards.
Rusk shoved Amandera away, rushing towards his fallen sister and dragging me along behind him at the end of the tether. I unwove as quickly as I could, flinging one man backwards seconds before his sword slashed Rusk’s back. Another moved towards Evanessa and I unwove his weapon, flinching as lighting flashed within inches of his face.
I lost track of Amandera in the frantic struggle to keep the three of us safe. Around us, the Common was woven and unwoven as Catane and the High Tazmin battled. I wished I could watch the display of power, but all I could do was dodge and weave and keep the flowing chaos of the battle from reaching Rusk and Evanessa.
Rusk crouched over her, gathering her in his arms and cradling her to his chest. He was murmuring to her, while he smoothed her hair from her face. I unwove the throat of a man who swung a blade towards Rusk’s head. We needed to get out of here.
The High Tazmin’s soldiers were dwindling, one white form here or there still dotted the throne room, but there were no concentrated groups of them. How long would they last? The moment they were gone all attention would be on us. I needed to act now. I unwove a gate from the throne room to Ra’shara, batting two soldiers away with my lightnings.
“Rusk,” I called, “Hurry!”
He stood shakily, Evanessa in his arms and stumbled through the gash. “Thank you.”
A man stumbled backwards into me, almost bowling me over. I caught him as he fell against me, and the two of us tripped into the gash. Catane screamed from the other side and I shut it as quickly as I could. Rusk panted beside me, sweat running down his temples.
“Evanessa,” he crooned, stroking her hair. “Come on, sister, just breathe.”
I glanced down to see who
had come through with me. In my arms, a bloody gash across his chest, was the High Tazmin.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I MET RUSK’S PANICKED EYES. “We need to get them away from here before Catane follows us.”
“How long do you think we have?”
“Seconds at most.”
Rusk gazed down at his sister. “I can’t lose her now. She’s the only family I have left, Wild Girl.”
There was so much desperation in his eyes. I wanted to take all his pain and worry and fear away. I wanted to take it on my own shoulders and leave him free of it forever.
“I promise you, Rusk, that no matter what it takes, we’ll see her free and safe.”
The tension in his face eased slightly, but if I was going to keep that promise I needed to act.
Rusk cradled Evanessa to his chest. She was unconscious, her head lolling like a doll’s. Meanwhile, the High Tazmin slumped in a pile at my feet. I didn’t have the strength to carry him anywhere. When he coughed, blood spurted out of the deep wound in his chest. It bubbled, bright red and frothy around the wound.
“He’s lung cut. He won’t last long,” Rusk stated professionally.
“There’s a lot he could tell us if we could keep him alive,” I said.
Maybe that was a cold way of looking at your own father, but what had he ever done to deserve love or loyalty from me? He’d sent my mother to her death and to the destruction of Rusk’s family and he’d set me up as a barking dog to distract Catane until he killed me. It was hard to feel much compassion for him. All the same, I couldn’t leave him here.
“Kjexx!” I called, “Kjexx!”
He appeared out of nowhere, materializing in the air before us, his glowing ko bright and strong in Ra’shara. Rusk stiffened at his appearance, but Kjexx gave a mocking half-bow.
“You called?”
“We don’t have time for that nonsense. We need to get somewhere safe before Catane comes through.”
His face hardened immediately, and he motioned to the High Tazmin. “Get a good hold on him. You have the girl, Rusk?”
“My sister. Yes.”
Kjexx nodded and then placed a hand on Rusk’s shoulder and the other on mine.
“Here we go-”
He hadn’t finished speaking before a slash ripped through the air in front of us. As it widened, I caught a glimpse of Catane’s searing gaze, but before he could move, Kjexx’s grip tightened and Ra’shara went white for a moment.
When my vision cleared, we were in his Chalet in Axum. How had he learned all this so quickly? An’alepp hadn’t known how to do this.
“How?-”
“It’s all connected,” Kjexx said. “Here, place them on the rugs. I’ll make a fire.”
“A fire in Ra’shara?” I asked, but he didn’t have time to explain.
“Daughter,” the High Tazmin gasped. His chest bubbled with the words.
I leaned over him. Should I try to comfort him? What had his given name been before he was High Tazmin? I racked my brain trying to think of it. To say it would be blasphemy, but what else did you say to a dying man?
“Parsad?” I said, remembering his name at last.
“Only hope, now,” he muttered, his words running into each other.
“Don’t give up, Parsad,” I said, arranging him gently on the fur rug. In my peripheral vision, I saw Rusk laying his sister on a parallel rug. I grabbed a cloth from one of the chairs, desperately pressing it to his chest.
“Cataclysm,” he gasped. He pawed at his face, clutching the heartstone and pulling it off to shove towards me. The cloth was soaked in blood, and so were my hands as I reached to take his gift. “It’s up to you. You look just like your mother.”
“I promise to fix it. I’ll heal this world.”
He grabbed my shirt, pulling me in so close that I could smell the tang of blood on his breath. I grimaced, but he held on tight with the last of his strength, riveting me with his gaze.
“You must die. You both must die to fix it. The world cannot contain such as you. Promise me.”
I gasped. I would not make such a promise.
His grip tightened, pulling me until our noses touched. He gasped, horribly.
“Promise me that you’ll die.”
I shoved him back and he fell from me onto the fur rug, coughed out a spurt of scarlet and then choked. I looked at him in horror, my breath coming so quickly that I didn’t think I could catch it again. My hands were red with blood, clutching his dull heartstone. His glassy eyes stared at me and the bubbling from his chest ceased, leaving nothing but a thick foam crusted around the wound.
I sank to the ground. I was sobbing, although I couldn’t say why.
I didn’t feel sad. I didn’t feel angry. I felt empty. I couldn’t stop staring at his hollow shell. I couldn’t stop gripping his gift. I should feel sorrow. I should feel loss. I felt nothing. I closed my eyes, rocking back and forth to comfort myself.
I heard Rusk asking Kjexx for medical supplies and Kjexx explaining that the things we touched and held in Ra’shara weren’t real. He’d have to make do with anything that we brought with us. The sound of Rusk tending to his sister was followed by the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor.
It seemed like hours later that Rusk’s warm hand was on my shoulder, but it could have been only moments, or even weeks later.
“I need you to open a door so we can go into the real world, Tylira. Evanessa needs medical attention and water.”
I opened my eyes. He was squatting before me, fear and sympathy warring for his expression. I put my hand over his, realizing too late that my hands were blood soaked.
“Of course,” I agreed. I had promised we would save Evanessa. In this one thing, I would not fail.
I drew in a breath and unwove a door back to the real world, to the real chalet in Axum’s mountains. Somehow, it seemed to use less power to rip into that world from Ra’shara than it had to cut a door between the worlds. If I lived long enough, I would have to study why that was. I would like a life like that – studying Ra’shara and our link to the Common, discovering our limits and going beyond them. That would be a good life. I was thinking of anything I could to avoid thinking of the High Tazmin’s words to me – of his desperate request for my promise.
We carried Evanessa up to the big bed at the top level of the chalet and tended her wounds.
“We’ll keep her safe, Rusk,” I promised. “We’ll keep her safe from everything.”
He nodded, but he looked more troubled by my words than he had been by the events in the throne room. His honey-brown eyes were alive with fear.
“She’s sleeping now. She will recover, but she needs her rest,” he said. “We have a lot to talk about.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“LET’S GET YOU OUT OF those bloody clothes,” Rusk said, leading me downstairs. “I’ll kindle a fire and heat some water.”
He led me to the hearth, gently guiding me to sit on the edge as he kindled a fire. There was still wood in the alcove beside the great fireplace, and he laid it, setting the kindling in the center and gently teasing a flame to life. His lips were full as they blew on the tiny wisps of bark he’d torn up to start the fire.
When the flames licked to life, he led me to the veranda that wrapped around the chalet, scooping water out of a rain barrel with a metal bucket. He brought it back indoors, set it beside the fire to heat up and took off his outer shirt, dipping it in the water, and then gently dabbing at my face and hair as he spoke.
“He was a twisted man. He sent your mother to assassinate my family. Do you think she wanted to do that?”
“No,” I said, shivering at his touch. I’d never heard him speak so compassionately towards my mother. What had gone on inside him to make him so merciful towards her?
The cool water and warm fire sent sensations of hot and cold across my skin as he worked, wetting the cloth and wringing it again to dab my father’s blood from my face, my hands, my
arms.
“I can’t imagine a world without the High Tazmin. Everything in the land has revolved around him for as long as I’ve been alive,” I said with a shiver.
“There will be another High Tazmin. There is no shortage of men who would rule.”
I touched the raised skin of the brand on my arm.
“It doesn’t have to be you,” he said, his fingers gentle as the traced the structure of my face, gently wiping it clean. I could feel his breath on my wet skin. It lit me up inside.
“It’s either me or Catane.”
“Because a cruel man orchestrated your adversity?”
“Because if it isn’t me then your sister dies, the Eaglekin die, and Kjexx’s people die.”
He bit his lip and set the cloth down, taking the hem of my shirt in careful hands and easing it up inch by inch over my belly, my breasts, my shoulders, my hair. His gaze never left mine and I couldn’t tell if it was the flickering of the flames beside us or desire that heated his eyes. I swallowed, feeling my cheeks heat and my own desire rush up.
He set my ruined shirt aside, dipping the cloth back in the water and taking my shoulders to turn me to where he could wash my back. I leaned into the pressure of his hands, aching for more, wanting to live before I had to decide whether to die.
“Don’t listen to him, Tylira.”
But what other choice did I have? It was becoming so obvious to me, now. It was my very gift – unweaving – that destroyed this world and every world. Everturn had been safe for generations until Catane and I were born. We were aberrations. Our very existence too powerful for the world we lived in – too deadly. And the High Tazmin had known it all along.
Perhaps, that was even why he sent my mother to her death. She would have done everything in her power to prevent him from setting me up the way he did. I wished I could have asked him for more details. Could he really be certain we were the problem? And if we were, then what was the solution?
“Don’t listen to him, wife,” Rusk said, as he spun me around, taking my face in his hands and kissing me like he was savoring the taste of me. I felt tears pricking my eyes. If only this was all there was. If only I could focus on Rusk undressing me and washing away what had happened instead of what was to come.
Thunder Rattles High (Unweaving Chronicles Book 3) Page 6
