Inheritors of Chaos

by Barbara Ann Wright

  “Are they brainwashed?” Cordelia asked.

  Horace shrugged. “I’d have to do a deep dive in one of their minds to see. And Naos is more powerful than I am. Even if she did something, I might not be able to spot it or undo it. The Sun-Moon might be able to help.”

  Simon snorted. “But they won’t.”

  Cordelia raised her arms and dropped them. “Well, we can’t just give them their weapons and tell them to behave!” She looked at Simon, and he knew the anguish she was feeling. She didn’t want to hold someone’s life in her hands, not when so many questions remained unanswered.

  And he didn’t know what advice to give her besides the option to delay. “Let’s take them with us, find the Galeans and the baby, then make a decision.”

  She smiled, and he could feel the relief rolling off her. “And if we have to take them all the way back to Gale, we can try to unscrew their minds if they’re…screwed. Maybe Liam will be back by then. He’s had more experience being diplomatic with the plains dwellers. He can talk to them.”

  Pool spread her hands as if to say anything was possible. “Perhaps they are like a drushkan tribe, and once their queen is dealt with, they will change their ways.”

  It was a possibility. But as the drushka bound the captives and lifted them aboard the tree, Simon knew it wasn’t going to be that easy, not with the fervor shining in their eyes.

  They hadn’t gone far when they spotted a smaller group approaching from the east. Simon sighed, wondering if they were going to have to fight every step of the way, but this group waved as if happy to see them. Simon sent his senses out and couldn’t help a wide grin when he detected Samira. Even though it’d only been weeks since he’d seen her, she was a welcome relief.

  He went down to greet her and stopped cold when he saw her captive. Lydia and Mamet also rode with her, but it was Fajir marching with her hands bound who drew the eye.

  “Motherfucker!” Cordelia shouted as she came down from Pool’s tree. She pointed an accusing finger in Fajir’s direction. “What the fuck is she doing here?”

  After giving Simon a huge hug, Samira stepped aside with a calculating smile. “You remember Fajir, I see.”

  Cordelia stalked forward, her hands clenched menacingly. Lydia’s mouth opened, but she seemed hesitant to get in Cordelia’s way. Fajir took a deep breath, a beatific smile coming over her face as if this was exactly what she’d been waiting for.

  After a look at Lydia, Mamet stepped in front of Fajir and flung her arms around Cordelia’s neck. “My friend! It’s so good to see you!”

  Cordelia pulled up short, blinking, and Simon sensed her confusion as her emotions tipped. She hugged Mamet in return. “Good to see you, too, kid.”

  “Is Nettle here?”

  “Ahya, young one,” Nettle said, reaching them. She didn’t resist when Mamet pulled her into the embrace, too, though she spared a glare for Fajir.

  Lydia moved to Fajir’s side, and it was only then that Simon noticed the bundle Lydia carried, something completely swathed in linen. As Simon watched, it squirmed.

  “Is that…a baby?” he asked.

  Lydia smiled. “Yes. Did you lose one?”

  He rushed forward, his senses flying over the tiny form, easing its suffering, its hunger, and verifying that it was Miriam’s child. And Dillon’s. He hadn’t realized until then just how worried he’d been. He didn’t bother with words, reaching through his connection to the drushka and telling Pool to send Miriam at once.

  She came to them as if on wings, the tree setting her at Simon’s side so she could reclaim her child. Her face transformed from steely to wondrous in an instant.

  Mila and Victoria came after her, cuddling their own children, and Horace brought Evan so all of Dillon’s children could be together. Horace’s power flowed out, signaling a communion, something the yafanai of Gale often did: mingling their powers in a meditative state. With a smile, Samira joined them, and Horace extended a hand to Simon. He flowed with the rest of them, intertwining their powers in a way he hadn’t done since he’d fought Naos. This time, it was only for the sake of community.

  Still, he never would have done it if he wasn’t the most powerful person among them.

  Samira held out a hand to Lydia, but she pulled back. Samira had said that Lydia hardly ever took part in any yafanai rituals. Her unique power set her too far apart. Among a temple of those with preternatural abilities, she was the only one who everyone viewed as mystical.

  Simon let himself sink into the bubble but only for a few moments. They still had so much to do.

  Chapter Four

  “So, someone finally caught your ass.” Cordelia had been ready to rip Fajir’s head off, but Mamet had leapt on her like an amorous prog. It had given Cordelia’s temper time to cool. Having Nettle beside her helped, too. As frightening as the drushka could be in battle, most of them projected an air of calm, probably a side effect of their connection to plants. Something as slow as a tree had to keep its cool.

  As the power users joined in some kind of happy bubble, Cordelia had moved to stand in front of Fajir, looking her up and down. “You look like shit.”

  Fajir only smiled.

  “What did she do?” Cordelia asked Mamet. “Where did you catch her?” Maybe if they talked about Fajir as if she wasn’t there, she’d have some words for them.

  Mamet shifted nervously and glanced at Lydia.

  “Don’t worry,” Cordelia said. “I won’t kill her if you need her alive, but I might slap her around a little.”

  “Try it,” Fajir said.

  Cordelia grinned. That was more like it.

  “She attacked Samira and Lydia near our camp.” Mamet cast a nervous and disgusted look Fajir’s way. Cordelia flashed back to Mamet’s bruised and battered body when Cordelia had found her in Fajir’s dungeon. She had a lot to be angry about.

  Cordelia leaned close to Nettle and nodded toward Fajir. “Watch her.”

  “Ahya.”

  And if Nettle was watching, the rest of the drushka would be, too. Cordelia led Mamet a few steps away. Mamet’s shoulders lowered, and she took a deep breath as if she’d found cleaner air.

  “Spill it. What happened with her?”

  Mamet’s words came out in a rush. She seemed relieved as she told how Fajir had been caught by Samira, how the Engali chafa and elders had declared that since Fajir’s only provable crime against their clan had been the torture of Mamet, that Mamet should decide her fate. That sounded like a raw deal. Pin a possible execution on a twenty-year-old? Cordelia had never killed someone outside the heat of battle. She didn’t know if she could do it if her blood wasn’t up and pumping.

  She looked back at Fajir. Well, maybe.

  “Lydia had a dream of Fajir’s future,” Mamet said. “An unbreakable prophecy, so she must live.” She breathed deep again, no doubt relieved that she wouldn’t have to execute anyone.

  Cordelia nudged her shoulder. “I understand.”

  After a grateful smile, Mamet said, “When Fajir escaped, Lydia chased her to keep her from killing innocents.”

  “Commendable,” Cordelia said. There might be more to Lydia than she thought.

  “Until Fajir tried to kill her,” Mamet said. “When we found them, Fajir was strangling her, so Samira knocked her unconscious.”

  “Some people never learn.”

  Mamet hung her head. “Now we’re traveling with her to keep her in check, and I…don’t want to!” When she picked her head up, she had tears in her eyes, and her fists were clenched. “I just want her to go away!”

  Cordelia put a hand on her shoulder, her heart going out. “It’s all right; relax. I’ll take her off your hands.” She wasn’t even sure why she said that except that Mamet was in pain, and Cordelia could help. But what the hell was she going to do with Fajir? Put her with the plains dwellers they’d caught? Maybe they’d all kill one another. Problem solved.

  A few tears fell down Mamet’s cheeks, and she wiped them
away before smiling shyly. “Now you’ve saved me twice.”

  Cordelia felt heat in her cheeks. She waved away the worship shining in Mamet’s eyes. “No big deal.” She patted Mamet on the shoulder, and they turned to watch the power users’ huddle.

  A moment later, the happy power bubble broke up, and Mamet practically ran to Samira, giving her the good news. Maybe she was planning on some serious make-out time now that they didn’t have to guard Fajir. Thinking of young love, Cordelia wished them well and winked at Nettle. Nettle grinned from where she stood behind Fajir.

  The yafanai were headed back toward the tree. Cordelia and the drushka followed, leading Fajir. Samira and Mamet stayed where they were, and Lydia looked between them all as if unsure who to join.

  “No!” Lydia finally said. “Fajir needs to stay on the plains if she’s going to help!”

  Samira narrowed her eyes. “If she leaves the plains now, she’ll find her way back. You said that’s how it works.”

  Lydia bit her lip; she’d gone a bit pale and started to sweat. She slicked her dark red hair back from her forehead. “I can’t go back to Gale.”

  “Why?” Cordelia asked.

  Samira gave her a dirty look. “It’s too painful after her losses.”

  Cordelia fought the urge to sigh. She was so tired of emotional garbage, but she kept her mouth shut. After all, she’d had trouble going back into the swamp, the place where her parents died.

  But the only way to get over pain was to face it.

  “Come with us,” Mamet said, holding out a hand to Lydia. “Back to the Engali camp.”

  “Yeah.” Cordelia nodded toward Fajir. “She won’t kill anyone she’s not supposed to under my watch.”

  Fajir bared her teeth but said nothing. Cordelia bet there’d be a long line waiting to kill her after she fulfilled her so-called destiny. Nettle might be first, though she was keeping herself in check.

  Lydia bowed her head, and Cordelia couldn’t guess what she was feeling. Whatever it was, Cordelia was going to get a cramp from resisting the urge to yell at her to make a fucking decision.

  Nettle crossed over and touched Lydia’s shoulder, making her jump. “Come with us, young one, but remain aboard the queen’s tree. We can hold this…monster there in complete safety, and you will not be directly in the place that caused you such pain.”

  Lydia smiled widely and threw her arms around Nettle’s slender waist. Nettle chuckled and hugged her back. Mamet sighed as if grateful the whole thing was sorted out, but now Samira seemed torn, looking from Lydia to Simon to Mamet. More fucking feelings. Great.

  Cordelia led Fajir into the tree, letting them work it out.

  * * *

  Lydia felt as if the world had been lifted from her shoulders. She was still going to Gale, but with the drushka, she wouldn’t have to go inside, wouldn’t even have to see the city if she stayed far inside the branches. She should have thought of the tree before. She’d loved living with the drushka on the plains; she found them warm and welcoming and open. They never lied, and they didn’t see the point of her power, so they never asked her to use it. And Fajir wouldn’t be able to move without their permission, let alone kill anyone.

  Even if she got away, there was Cordelia and the paladins as well as Simon Lazlo and all the yafanai to catch her. She’d sit nice and tight until she was needed, and Lydia could see that no one else got hurt.

  But now Samira seemed to want to come to Gale, too, though Mamet clearly wanted to go home. She hadn’t had a peaceful night since Fajir had come back into their lives.

  Lydia crossed over to them, desperate to help them make up their minds if she could. “What’s going on?”

  “She wants to go with you,” Mamet said, her eyes hard.

  Samira sighed. “I only think that I should…see this through.” It sounded weak, as if she wasn’t certain of her own words. Lydia flashed back to a conversation she’d had with Samira right before this whole adventure started: Samira thought Mamet was getting too serious about their relationship too quickly. She’d been scared that Mamet was thinking marriage while Samira was having a fling.

  And now, maybe Samira saw a way out. She never tried to hide her feelings, and they shone through now. But breaking Mamet’s heart would be like denying a child a hug.

  Maybe that was the problem. No matter if Mamet’s anguish was justified, maybe Samira needed someone stronger.

  Mamet gestured toward the ossor, her hand out. “Samira, please.”

  Samira took Mamet’s hand but stayed where she was. “I…I need to see this through, Mamet, and I want to go back to Gale, to see how it’s changed, to help Simon. He’s been through so much—”

  “So have I!” Mamet yelled. She lowered her voice. “So has everyone. And there will be more trying times in the future. With these goddess worshipers running rampant, my people need us now more than ever.”

  Samira seemed sheepish, but in the end, Mamet was asking her to choose between people and a town she’d known her whole life and people she’d just met. Lydia didn’t know what she’d do if forced into such a choice. When staying with the Engali had been a sort of vacation, Samira had seemed happy, but now that her dear friend and her old people needed her help…

  No matter what she decided, there was no choice in Mamet’s dark eyes. If Lydia could see it, Samira surely could. Mamet wanted Samira to choose her over everything, everyone else.

  But Samira seemed to always need more than one person to care about. Lydia wanted to hug them both or run away from the tension, but she was rooted to the spot.

  “I’m sorry, Mamet.” Samira had a hitch in her voice, but not enough to overwhelm her. She was too strong for that, the type of person who could easily become jaded and hard if she let herself. “I think you should go back to the Engali, and I should go with Simon and the drushka.”

  Lydia couldn’t tear her eyes off Mamet’s anguished face. Samira hadn’t pleaded with Mamet to come with them. That would be too hard for Mamet, so Samira was letting her go, but Lydia doubted Mamet would see it that way.

  “After all this is over—” Samira began, driving the final nail into the coffin.

  “Don’t bother,” Mamet said as she turned and stalked away.

  “Mamet!” Samira said, taking a few steps. “Wait! Don’t walk away angry, at least say good-bye.”

  “Good-bye!” Mamet said over one shoulder, the vitriol in her words cut with a sob.

  Samira sighed and seemed as if she might take a few more steps, maybe use her power to stop Mamet, but she faltered. Tears stood in her eyes, but they didn’t fall.

  “Find her again when the trouble’s over,” Lydia said. “Maybe she’ll be ready to forgive.”

  “I hope she doesn’t ride right toward trouble.”

  Lydia nodded. If Mamet avoided the rampaging plains dwellers, she should be all right. Lydia didn’t have time to yell good-bye before Mamet was lost in a cloud of dust.

  Aboard the tree, Samira and Lydia told Cordelia and Simon about the Galeans they’d met, those who’d stolen the baby. Simon wanted to go after them, but Cordelia argued that they had other things to worry about.

  Simon spoke about trouble in Gale. The temple had burned down. Lydia didn’t mourn it. Freddie had died at the gates, and it had never felt like home. It chilled her that someone had tried to kill Simon Lazlo and had kidnapped the baby from the mother’s womb. Disgusting. She was relieved that the drushka now protected the mothers. If they were all living aboard the tree, Lydia could get to know some of them better.

  If they didn’t badger her with questions about the future of their children.

  Fajir stayed quiet as she listened, even when Simon told them Naos had landed her ship. When the drushka finally tucked Fajir away in a cubby, she remained silent. Lydia followed, surprised when the drushka removed Fajir’s bonds.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Lydia asked Reach, the former drushkan ambassador.

  “Ahya, yes,” Reach s
aid. “The tree itself will be her shackle. Only a fool would seek to run.” She looked to Fajir. “You hear this, yes?”

  Fajir didn’t respond. Reach spread her hands as if to ask what more could they do before she walked away, leaving a few guards nearby.

  Lydia sat cross-legged on the branch in front of the cubby, wondering why she was still bothering with this monster, the woman who’d tried to kill her once and vowed to one day finish the job.

  “Are you pleased, Nemesis?” Fajir asked. “Now I am as good as caged, waiting for your day when I will be a hero.”

  Lydia didn’t know what to say. She was pleased, but more than that, she was thoughtful. Fajir had saved her from the Galeans. She’d done it by threatening to strangle someone and drop her on a baby, but she’d done it nonetheless.

  “Why did you save my life?” she asked. “When the Galeans attacked us, you could have fled into the night.”

  “With my hands bound?”

  “You could have gotten out of that sooner or later. We weren’t far from Celeste. Or you could have joined the Galeans against us. You saved me instead.”

  Fajir shrugged, face turned away so that her long black hair hid her expression. “I told you. You are mine to kill.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  Fajir sneered in profile. “Do you think me in love with you, Nemesis?”

  “I think you’ve forgotten how to love.”

  Fajir faced her at last, eyes blazing. “I loved more deeply than you will ever know.”

  “Once, sure. Now?” Lydia shrugged. “So, why?”

  For a moment, Fajir said nothing, then she leaned forward, her gray eyes boring into Lydia’s face like metal shards. “You claimed my life with your power. I claim yours.”

  Lydia knew she should be frightened, but just as when Fajir had threatened her before, it amused rather than scared her. Fajir had tried to back up her words once, and Samira had stopped her. Lydia might not be so lucky a second time, but still…nothing.

  Lydia smiled. “I think you’re full of shit.”