Rusk scooped me up in solid arms, spinning around as if searching for a way out. Through the windows, I saw little lights like fireflies. I started to smile before realization filled me. They weren’t fireflies. They were thousands of torches.
Underneath us, the armies of Veen waited.
Catane began to laugh, rocking back and forth as he clutched the empty remains of his lover. I wasn’t sure if he was mocking us or if the death of Amandera had driven him mad. He raised a hand as if he would blast us with lightning. I was too drained to stop him. I hung like a wrung cloth in Rusk’s firm grip.
“There’s nowhere to run.” Catane’s eyes drifted to the metal door in the wall behind him. “That door leads…led… to Axum. And we both know my home there is gone. Just like the one love of my life and everything else dear to me. All that’s left is Canderabai and my birthright.” His eyes glowed bright gold in the fading sunset. “And I will have it, half-sister.”
Rusk shifted one direction, then the next, as if looking for a way out. With the roc blasted from the sky, there was only the stairway down the side of the cliffs to the waiting armies of Veen or the door to dead Axum. If only I could help. If only I wasn’t a dead weight holding him in place.
“All that stands in my way is you, Prince of Hawks.” Catane set Amandera gently down on the mosaic floor and stood, hands in front of him. His eyes were hard and dark. Any sanity or reason in them must have died with Amandera.
Rusk’s grip tightened on me. Not Rusk, please not Rusk! I couldn’t summon the strength to speak, not even to plead for his life. He spun so quickly that my vision swam, and then he hopped up onto the wide window ledge and leapt.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I WOULD HAVE SCREAMED IF I had any energy. Instead, my breath hitched wildly in my throat and my wide eyes streamed with tears as we toppled over the edge and dropped through the air. Rusk’s arms clutched me iron-strong. At least we’d die together, knowing that we’d stitched the world back together for everyone else.
The roar of the waterfall, so close, drowned out everything else. The spray cooled my feverish skin as the air rushed around me. Beneath us, the waters churned and on the bank the firefly lights of the Veen army sparkled. We’d go out as legends, painted black against the red sky and sparkling diamond falls.
I leaned into the plunge. The end was so near, why fight it now? Perhaps this was what the voice had been talking about all along. The rocks we would dash across were so close that they filled my vision. I took a deep breath, preparing myself…
…and then they rushed away as we swooped past them, across the length of the river and arcing upwards. Our toes clipped the water beneath.
I gasped, not able to look at Rusk, though I was pinned against his feverish chest. I looked out as far as I could on either side. There, suspending us, was a pair of ghostly white wings, as shimmering and translucent as the ko above our heads. They caught the wind, buoying us up into the sky. I was so certain that they somehow belonged to Rusk that I didn’t need to verify it.
Prince of Hawks? Of course, he was the Prince of Hawks, with a wingspan like that! Of course, the birds sang and dipped when he was present. Who wouldn’t?
Awe filled me, but with it came another realization: He’d had to hold back his own greatness to be with me, hadn’t he? I had a great hunting bird tied to me with a silver thread. The injustice of it seared me, even as the cold air and the residual dampness from the waterfall spray restored my strength.
The Veen army was long past when, after following the curve of the Penspray River, we found a bend where the foliage lessened and tall river banks sheltered a spit of gravel. Rusk banked, curving our flight path tighter in a way that mirrored the great roc and then set us down on the silver spit of gravel. The red of sunset had been conquered by the silver of moonlight and everything around us was velvet black and filigreed silver.
As soon as Rusk’s feet settled on the ground I twisted so I could see his face, though his arms still held me tight. Behind his back, his wings shimmered in the moonlight, broad and strong, and then folded in on themselves and disappeared.
“What-? How-?” I wasn’t sure where to begin.
His gaze didn’t quite meet my eye. “I don’t know – didn’t know. There were no other options, so I thought maybe there would be a miracle. Don’t be angry.”
Angry? I should be angry, shouldn’t I? He’d risked our lives on nothing – not even a scrap of certainty. But all I felt was overwhelming relief.
“If you didn’t know, then why did you jump?”
“I had a gut feeling.” He met my eye finally, the whites of his eyes flashing in the moonlight. “And those have never been wrong for me. It’s what made me attach us back together, and if I hadn’t done that we wouldn’t have survived Axum, would we?”
He was right about that. I nodded.
“Or saved the world from a cataclysm today. I could feel you feeding off my energy. I’m certain that’s why you still live.”
I swallowed. It was the only explanation. Amandera had been just as strong as me and it had drained everything from her and Drusica. I opened my palm to find that I’d clutched her heartstone so tightly against the end of the scintellex that it had wedged itself into the pattern there. I pulled at it, but the gem stuck. Was it the darkness, or was the scintellex a slightly different shade now?
“Tylira?” His voice was tender. “Are you angry?”
“Of course not,” I breathed. I must be drawing on his energy right now. I was feeling more alive by the minute. “I’m so grateful. And your wings are stunning.”
I took his face in my hands and kissed him, savoring the taste I thought I’d never get to experience again. He kissed me back, drawing me into his warmth and safety. His hands ran down my back, warming my chilled skin. With nightfall, the dampness of my clothes was no longer cooling, but cold.
“I’m so relieved you’re alive,” he said, smoothing my hair back from my face and kissing my temple reverently. “I thought I was losing you. And you did it! Look at the sky.”
We looked up together. The tears and cracks had disappeared leaving the view clear to see the spray of milky stars.
“We did it,” I breathed. After this, we could do anything. Conquer any barrier. Triumph over anything that came our way. We’d done the impossible.
“We can’t stay here,” Rusk reminded me. “Catane saw which way we went. His armies will be coming.”
“Can you fly us away?” I couldn’t help the awe in my voice.
“I can’t seem to make them come back.” He chuckled ruefully. “I don’t know what brought them, or what to do to get the wings to return. Kind of ridiculous, isn’t it?”
“I think I’d rather call it miraculous, but I guess we need to get walking.”
He laughed. “Well, I might not be able to fly at will, but that doesn’t leave me purely ornamental. While you were busy stitching reality back together I made plans.”
“Plans?”
The loud crunching sound of feet on gravel made me spin, and there was Graxx, strutting along the river’s edge with a pair of panniers on his back and Astrex in the saddle.
“I had to change course when I saw you in the air,” she said. “You’re more trouble than any of my children were, Windbearer, and the four of them burnt our house down in the middle of winter.”
I hadn’t even realized she was a mother. I certainly hadn’t expected the good-natured humor in her tone.
“I was right to bet on you after all. I see you’ve fixed the sky, and the rumblings stopped an hour ago. If I never see the world open up suddenly in front of me again, that will be just fine with me. Come on, now. No bothering Graxx.”
The last was said to Rusk who had laid his forehead against Graxx’s great one and was clearly ignoring Astrex and me in favor of their conversation together. Rusk left him reluctantly and we climbed up into the pannier.
“There are blankets in the one on the left. Do me a favor and
go to sleep. I like it quiet when I’m riding by myself. And by sleep, I mean sleep. We don’t need to be making any heirs tonight.”
I felt my cheeks heat, but the rest of me was so cold that I happily nestled down into the blankets and curled up on Rusk’s chest. My eyes were just starting to close when a voice snapped me out of sleep. It was coming from Ra’shara.
“Tylira?” The voice calling me was too high pitched to be Kjexx.
CHAPTER THIRTY
RELUCTANTLY, I ENTERED THE MEDITATION world, leaving the blue velvet world of Graxx’s swaying pace and Rusk’s deep breathing to the ephemeral world beyond.
We were standing on the Cliffs of Canderabai. I wouldn’t have chosen this place, but Kjexx must have. He was standing right in front of me, blocking out everything else except the vista of the glowing city below us.
“Don’t lose your calm,” he said. He looked more alive and whole than the last time I’d seen him, but he was still flickering in and out. His ko had taken on a brighter cast as if all his life force was feeding it like Amandera had fed the scintellex.
“Are you hurt?” I asked. “I thought you would recover when we were finished.”
He shook his head, waving a hand dismissively. “That’s of no consequence now.”
“You were amazing. You gave me all the power I needed. Thank you,” I began.
“Also, of no consequence. We both want the same things. Neither of us needs to be thanked for running hard and fast towards them.” He was so serious lately. The playfulness of his personality was being siphoned away.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Then maybe you’d like to tell me why you called me here when I was finally going to get a little rest?”
His grin was far too wide. Okay, maybe he wasn’t all serious. “I didn’t call you.”
“Well, An’alepp has gone beyond, so it wasn’t her.” I angled my face up so that I could look down my nose at him. He should remember that I wasn’t a doll to be toyed with.
His grin widened. “Why don’t you turn around?”
I felt a stab of fear, despite his grin. I turned.
Amandera stood in all her radiant glory, her sarette bright blue and fresh as if it was just put on. Of course, she looked good on the other side of death. The world could end – maybe it almost had – and she’d look like a single rose blooming in a garden.
“You kept my heartstone,” she said.
“You gave it to me?” Was I asking or answering? Our peace, forged by twin desire, seemed more tenuous here.
She raised her eyebrows like she was my teacher again, waiting for me to supply the answer.
“Well, you did give it to me.”
“And?”
“And what?” What was she getting at? Did she want to know why I’d accepted? I hadn’t really thought, just acted. Maybe she wanted to tell me why it had attached itself to the scintellex, although I had no answer for that either. No, wait… she hadn’t been accusing me when she said, ‘You kept my heartstone.’” She’d been answering the question she thought I was about to ask.
“That’s how you’re here. Because I took your heartstone and you died. You’re my ancestor now, too, just like Kjexx.”
She rolled her eyes. “While neither of us wants to be called an ancestor, it seems to be the case. We’re here to help you, like it or not.”
“Well, I appreciate that you chose me-”
“I didn’t choose you! He might have, but I didn’t.” Amandera’s eyes looked everywhere except at me.
“Well, it’s not like I’m holding you here. Go where you want.”
“I can’t,” she said through gritted teeth. “If I could go where I wanted I’d be at the side of the man who mourns me and is likely conducting funeral rites for me as we speak.”
She flinched as she spoke, curling in on herself as if trying to protect against invisible blows. Oh. Yes. In my relief, I’d forgotten. She seemed almost like a different person from the usual confident, certain Amandera. What had she lost in death? She’d lost her happy ending, hadn’t she?
Did something else lie out there in the beyond where An’alepp had gone? Something that would make sense of this, or was this all there was?
“So, you have to help me even though you’d rather be elsewhere. But that didn’t happen with the High Tazmin and he gave me his heartstone!”
“Where is it now?” Amandera asked.
“I gave it to Evanessa,” I said with a shrug.
“Maybe he was sucked into the cracks,” Kjexx said, his expression grave. I shivered.
“And what do you think you need to help me do?” I asked. “I assume that stopping Catane’s armies isn’t a passion we share?”
“Look around you,” Kjexx said mildly. “Notice anything?”
His permanent good spirits weren’t even affecting Amandera’s stiff position and jutting chin. She was as tightly drawn as a bow string.
I glanced around to humor him. What was I supposed to be seeing here?
“I see two obnoxious spirits keeping me from sleep.”
“And?” his tone was teasing, but his eyes were sad. What could I possibly see from here that would be sad?
I glanced around me, humoring him. Cliffs. City on the horizon. Twin moons. Trees. Terrible memories of this exact spot. There was nothing new here. Everything was as it always had been. If anything, it was more so: brighter, richer, more colorful-
My gaze leapt to his face and he nodded soberly. “Yes. You see it now. It’s just like the spirit world in Axum.”
“Too bright,” I muttered looking around.
“We only saved Everturn for now.” Amandera’s voice was bitter. “It won’t break apart, but it will decay until nothing is left.”
I swallowed. The relief of having saved the world ebbed away, leaving me exhausted and hopeless. What did I do now? I didn’t even have Amandera to help this time. Who was I supposed to ask for help now? Catane? Ha!
“So, what do we do now?” I asked. Neither of them would meet my gaze as the minutes ticked by and we swirled deeper into the hopelessness of our situation. I sighed. “Well, I can’t do anything about it tonight. Wake me again if you have any more bad news.”
Sleep called, but my mind was troubled. I’d thought I’d slipped the hangman’s noose, but if it had taken the death of Amandera to mend the cataclysm, who would have to die to mend Ra’shara?
Sacrifice my own voice whispered in my mind. I wanted to throttle it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I WOKE TO THE SWAY of Graxx and the light of a canary dawn. I snuggled closer to where Rusk should be but found only empty blankets.
“Awake?” Astrex called down to me from Graxx’s saddle.
“Mmmph.” My sleep had been too troubled to refresh me. I was haunted by nightmares of Ra’shara rotting and Rusk and I dying terrible deaths. What was worse, was the knowledge that even if we survived this battle with Catane, this difficult task of cleansing Ra’shara, we would still face the same fate someday. Death. Separation. Uncertainty. If I could really unweave the world and remake it, I would remake it so that lovers were never separated and no one was ever lost.
I climbed up behind Rusk in the saddle, yawning and struggling to straighten my clothing. The wet leather and silk had dried badly, leaving water stains and strange creases.
“Morning, Wild Girl.”
Of course, he looked great. Rippling black muscles and curls cropped so close that they were almost not there, looked good no matter what the circumstances. I gave him my best morning smile.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Almost to our line of battle,” Astrex said. “The difficult part is coming up. We need to get behind our lines without the Veen seeing us or our own watch shooting us with arrows.”
I sighed. Wasn’t that always the way? It could never just be breakfast anymore. There always had to be an extra exciting way to begin the day.
“Breakfast?” Astrex asked, as if echoing my thoughts.
She handed me a half of a sugar melon and I bit into it immediately. When had we last eaten? I looked up guiltily at Rusk, melon juice dripping off my chin. He laughed.
“Don’t worry. She already gave me mine.” His eyes sparkled as he wiped the juice from my chin with his thumb. “It’s a good morning. We have a battle to win, but the sky is whole and clear and at least that half of our worry is over.”
If only. I concentrated on the sugar melon. No sense in both of us being worried about it.
“Astrex, do you have any inkling about what the scintellex is?” I tried to sound nonchalant.
It was sitting innocently in my pocket right now, but I could feel it was warmer than my skin and every so often one of the rings shifted all on its own. Every time it did the murmurings that never ceased in the back of my mind grew louder. They sounded so much like my own voice, but why would I be speaking to myself?
Not over.
If only I wasn’t so cryptic.
“We only knew it was an artifact of great power.”
“Do you know where it came from?”
“It was dug up from the ruins.” Her voice sounded distant as she scanned our surroundings.
Rusk put a hand to his sword hilt.
“The ruins of the Black Talon?” I pressed. Surely, she must know something. It wasn’t like I could go back to Axum to learn about these things.
“No. Other ruins, from before we arrived, from the bones of the earth herself.”
I pulled it from my pocket and stared at it. Somehow, it was still the key to everything. To think that there had been a time before the Black Talon had arrived on Axum and whoever – whatever had dwelled there had made this thing. Maybe it was Graxx’s people.
Not me.
I leapt in my seat. Had he just spoken to me?
Yes.
But why now, when he had refused before?
You’re not my people, so I don’t talk to you. But we didn’t make that device.
Hmmm. So, he’d been hearing my thoughts this whole time, he just didn’t deign to talk to me, although he spoke to Kjexx and Rusk. Why? I waited, wondering if he’d answer, but he was silent.
Thunder Rattles High (Unweaving Chronicles Book 3) Page 13
