“Ah yes, welcome, Lhaurel,” Sellia said, nodding. The other Sisters took seats around her, leaving one next to Talha empty. “Welcome, true Sister. Your journey went well, I trust?”
Lhaurel licked her lips, unsure of how to respond. How had Sellia and the other Sister managed to get here so much more quickly than she had?
“I understand your reticence to speak, Sister,” Sellia continued, “but you are among family now. These are your Sisters.” Sellia gestured at the other seated women, then her eyes darted to the woman on the floor. “She, on the other hand, is the puppet we’ve been forced to use in your absence.”
At Lhaurel’s feet, the woman began to whimper. It was a pitiful, desperate sound that tugged at Lhaurel’s heart.
“I don’t understand,” Lhaurel said, carefully. She felt a growing sense of foreboding and the hair on her arms and neck refused to lie back down.
“It is quite simple, once you understand the Progressions and how our lives return to new bodies with each Incarnation,” the other Sister, who Lhaurel did not know, said. “For a thousand years, we have been without Honor among us. Rather, we have had the pale shadow of you here. There have been dozens like that one,” she pointed at the woman on the floor, “but none have been true Sisters. We’ve perpetuated a charade in order to maintain the semblance of continuity for those who follow the Paths. That ends today. Honor has returned.”
“You have returned to us, after your prior Incarnation destroyed what we had spent centuries building.” This came from Celiana, her voice a rough growl. “And after all these many years, we have become something more than we were even then. The Sharani Arena broke and reforged us. It unified the Empire for nine hundred years and taught us much about what was and was not possible with our abilities.”
“It unified us all in a single, glorious goal. We fought a war we thought was one, and, when we left, the Seven Sisters held all true power in the Empire.” Alcine spoke now. Lhaurel turned to look at her, moving slowly. “But over the centuries, the Great Houses have wrested some measure of control. The unity we once had is starting to crack. The slaves rebel and even some Great Ones have fallen away from the true Path.”
“The Empire needs a new sense of unity,” Talha said, her voice oddly hollow. “You will give it to them.”
Talha stood and the other Sisters around her got to their feet, staffs held out before them, red glass spheres on the ends pointed toward Lhaurel. Lhaurel felt panic rise up and claw at her heart. She held up her hands, one of which still held her own staff. Her foot hit the bound woman on the floor. Lhaurel hadn’t realized she’d been backing up.
“We will bind you to us, Sister,” Sellia said, voice full of a hard passion that hadn’t been there before. “And return your powers to you. We would have Honor back, but we will not be betrayed again.”
The red orbs began to glow. The Sisters stepped closer, moving in concert with one another. Lhaurel found herself frozen in place. The orbs drew closer until they were only inches from her, then, in the space of half a heartbeat, they were touching her.
Pain lanced through Lhaurel, feeling like she’d been touched by heated metal instead of glass. She screamed and sucked in a deep breath, tasting smoke and char as the orbs burned through her clothes and touched her flesh.
Something surged through her. Her mind came alive, the fog of confusion burned away beneath a new fire of sudden alertness and understanding. Her heart thundered in her chest and a red mist appeared in the air around her, thick as any Lhaurel had ever seen before. Blood pounded through her veins.
“A blood oath is sworn with power returned,” Mhenna said, her voice distant and echoey, as if spoken from a long, long way away.
The alertness grew, swelling into something else, something more. Lhaurel could feel the other Sisters now. Her powers swelled within her and her body responded, pulling at it like a man dying of thirst drew in water. It thundered through her. She felt them all and her body responding, pulling at more, pulling at everything.
“You will serve the Empire and all it stands for,” the Sister Lhaurel did not know intoned.
The strength of her magic gripped her and surged in her veins.
“You will not harm any of your Sisters and more, you shall protect them against any that would,” Sellia said.
Lhaurel felt a moan of pleasure slip from her lips. Her awareness flew outward and she felt the trembling fear of the woman at her feet, the weakened state she was in, then her powers shot outward, reaching out through the vast, enthralling building and touching on the hundreds of people that walked within its walls.
“You will follow the Path and lead others along the way,” Talha said. The red mist grew thick around Lhaurel and she pulled it in hungrily. She wanted more, needed more. This . . . this was everything she’d lacked before. She felt whole, complete, and free.
“You will crush the enemies of the Empire from within and from without,” Celiana said. “Mercy will not burden the bonds of justice.”
Inside Lhaurel’s mind, Elyana’s voice started shouting, though Lhaurel was so deep into the joy and ecstasy of the powers flooding through her that she didn’t notice, except for as a small, passing burr in an otherwise perfect experience.
No! No, don’t do this! Briane! Dear, sweet Briane!
A small part of Lhaurel felt fear and pain flit through the waves of power rolling within her. It was like a small taste of something bitter in the midst of a mouthful of sweet, succulent fruit.
“You will lead the Orinai to unity against the Rahuli slaves to which you once belonged,” Alcine said, her voice barely a whisper. “And you will destroy them.”
The small burr in the joy swelled, clashing with the power raging through Lhaurel’s mind, body, and soul. Elyana’s voice screamed in Lhaurel’s mind and Lhaurel caught glimpses of a scene passing through her mind that she’d already watched once in dream. A small girl stepping back in fear, red mist, a feeling of utter joy. Lhaurel tried to focus on it, to ride through the surging powers that swelled within her. Someone was dying, someone . . . Lhaurel couldn’t stand against the force of the powers swelling outward.
“Do you so swear? This power is yours upon acceptance of this oath.” It was Sellia who spoke this time.
“Yes!” The scream ripped from Lhaurel’s throat as if torn from it, leaving it raw and ragged. She couldn’t have stopped it even if she’d wanted to. She felt like a candle’s flame struggling to match the light of the sun and being consumed by it at the same time.
“And so it is sealed.”
Lhaurel felt the flow of power ease, like the tail end of a sandstorm passing in the night. Her back arched and she reached out for her magic, hands forming claws as if she were going to rip it from the very air. The power poured into her then was suddenly gone. Lhaurel blinked and sucked in a deep, gasping breath, as if bursting from the sands after falling into a genesauri’s nest. Six of the Seven Sisters stood around her and Lhaurel felt them as much as she saw them. Her powers flowed through her, as strong as they’d ever been, if not stronger. She looked down at her nails, which shone so red Lhaurel thought they could have been painted if she hadn’t known the truth. She reached out, feeling the hundreds of people about their tasks within the Estrelar temple. It felt wonderful. She vowed, in that moment, that her powers would never be taken away from her again. She’d die first.
“Retrieve your staff, Sister,” Talha said.
Lhaurel glanced down at her hands again, only then realizing that she must have dropped her staff while in the middle of the ordeal. Her skin still burned where the other staffs had touched her, but it was a cursory, ancillary thing now. Lhaurel looked down and noticed her staff lying next to the prone woman on the ground. Lhaurel bent down to retrieve it, feeling a strength she hadn’t felt in many months. It amplified her movements and lent her grace and dexterity. Only then did she notice the woman’s skin had turned a horrible, pale white. The orb on Lhaurel’s staff now shone with a deep, rich
hue the color of blood. Lhaurel picked up the staff with a suddenly trembling hand.
“You are one of us now,” Sellia said, grinning with pointed teeth.
Inside Lhaurel’s mind, Elyana wept.
Epilogue
The snows fell for another four days before they abated, moving along toward the south. Almost three feet of snow lay within the sheltered valley, more in the surrounding passes. Many of those who had been in the valley for longer than a year were prepared for this and had cleared paths through the snow within a few hours. Gavin had called for an assembly of the entire people for later that afternoon. Tadeo had braved the snows a few days earlier for his own hut, ostensibly to check on his belongings, though Gavin wondered if it wasn’t to see if Samsin was alright. He hadn’t heard from either of them, though Darryn was itching to be headed back out and had left to find Samsin as soon as he was able that morning.
Now that the storm had passed, they could both fly out at their convenience. Gavin suspected they’d be gone before the end of the day. He’d spoken to both men within a few hours of returning to the valley. They would continue their mission, though they’d all agreed to keep it silent unless absolutely necessary. They’d all decided that keeping it secret would better motivate the former slaves in the valley if they thought they were the only thing between death and the Orinai. That, and there was a very large chance that Tadeo and Darryn wouldn’t be able to convince anyone to come. There was no point getting everyone’s hopes up on something so unlikely to turn out.
He stood now, looking out over the gathering throng bundled in their various colored cloaks, watching them from atop the very platform where Brisson had stood on the day he’d condemned Samsin to death. Farah was at his side and Evrouin sat in one of the chairs a few feet behind them, bandages hidden beneath his own cloak. The man was still weak, but hid it well, especially sitting next to Cobb, who looked as he always did—gruff, taciturn, and silent.
Farah reached out and took his hand, intertwining her fingers in his. He didn’t smile, but squeezed her hand gently to let her know how much he appreciated her presence there. Light reflected off the snow and glinted from her many earrings, which only served to highlight the beautiful contours of her face and neck. How had he not noticed how simply radiant she was before now?
He pulled his eyes away from her and looked out at the gathering throng. They all looked up at him with calm, serious faces. The curiosity in the air, however, was as palpable as the cold. This was the first time they’d gathered since the storm had started, the first time the rumors of Brisson’s death—most likely spread by Benji, sands take that boy—could spread. This was the first time Gavin would address them as their new leader. They didn’t know it yet, but by the time he was finished, they would be his. And he, theirs.
Gavin let go of Farah’s hand and took a small step forward, setting himself ahead of everyone else on the stage. He hadn’t invited any of Brisson’s old group of advisors and counselors on purpose. He simply didn’t trust any of them.
“Brothers and sisters,” Gavin shouted, pitching his voice loudly as he’d been trained by his grandmother all those years ago. “I bring sad news on the back of glad tidings. Brisson is dead.” Gavin’s voice rang out over the crowd. Gavin could see when it reached the crowd by their reaction, like wind passing over the sand, they moved in a wave of sound. “The Orinai killed him when they captured us. They filled him with arrows as he led them away from Evrouin, Tadeo, and myself. He fell protecting us. He fell defending me.”
Gavin had decided, after talking to both Farah and Shallee to not talk about Brisson’s betrayal. Yes, he had betrayed them, but, in the end, he’d given his life attempting to atone of that. His sacrifice made the lie taste less bitter coming out of Gavin’s mouth. A hushed murmur passed through the crowd. Though Gavin couldn’t hear any of the actual words, the feelings came through almost as palpably. Fear. Confusion. Anger. Pain.
“But by his death, he gave us a chance. The storm rose up and brought the snows, which have cut us off from the Orinai armies. We’re safe now.” Some of the fear and confusion died down. “But it has only bought us time.”
“What do you mean?” someone shouted.
“The snow won’t last forever. The armies will be there when the snows melt. They’ll march through the mountains until they find us. When they do, they’ll slaughter us all.”
Several children began to cry.
“Here now,” a man near the front of the group shouted. “There’s children here. Watch your tongue.”
“They need to know the truth,” Gavin said, ignoring the irony of the remark. “Everyone who came with me on the raid that night is dead, except for two other men. They have an army of over ten thousand men out there, with more sure to be on their way. What do we have?”
Silence answered him.
“We have you!” The voice was Benji’s, the boy having pushed his way to the front of the crowd, curly hair neatly combed. Gavin could have kissed him.
For half a breath, the silence grew deeper, then murmurs of assent spread through the watchers. Not all of them, but enough. Gavin raised his arms for silence.
“I am not enough. But we do have something else,” he shouted. “We have us. We are the last bastion of hope for our people. Yes, we are one people. We are the Rahuli. We were raised apart, but we have been brought back together again, long lost brothers to take up arms against our mutual foe.”
Gavin saw several people nodding in the crowd as they looked up at him. Backs straightened, jaws firmed, children stopped crying.
“We have both tasted the bitter pain of loss, of broken families, of death at every turn. We have all known the fear of the unknown before us. We are simply the Rahuli. You are not slaves. When the snows melt and the armies come, I will stand in their way. I will defend this valley. I will defend my people. I will stand.”
Behind him, Gavin heard Evrouin get to his feet, followed by Cobb. They both limped toward him, their footsteps so similar now.
“I will stand with you,” Evrouin said.
“As will I.” Cobb agreed.
“Me too!” Farah said, stepping forward, her face fierce and her blond hair dancing in the light breeze.
“I will stand!” This from Benji
“I will stand!” An older man shouted.
Another added his voice to the group. Slowly at first, then like a burgeoning storm, more voices joined in the shout of agreement. In moments, the entire group shouted, raising fists into the air in a clarion declaration of defiance.
“I will stand!”
Gavin raised both hands into the air above his head.
They were his.
* * *
The joy of success and conquest makes the quill in my fingertips shake and tremble. The child, Briane, held the key. That beautiful, wonderful blessed child.
Her ideas. Her efforts. Her heart. They made this possible. The cause was worthy of our sacrifice. The clan did not know what gift they gave me when they provided her. They shall laud her as a savior now.
Elyana paused and looked upward, her eyes reflecting the lamplight and a flickering brightness from the air above her. Her hands trembled and a smile graced her lips.
Hope is rekindled. I received news that we have won several great victories against the enemy, though our peoples are still divided into small indefensible groups. The news of this success will rekindle their hope. There is still much work to be done. Much work indeed. Size augmentation is the primary concern. Then multiplication.
How does an ant rise to the challenge of defending its colony from the threat of invasion? How does it defend itself from the booted heel that crushes it?
A multiplicity of numbers. Soldiers. Unity.
But what if the ant became suddenly a larger thing? Able to fight against the boot and win as an individual? What then? Would the colony’s ability to swarm then make it so that all booted heels would cease to crush their kin? I think so. And if we harnes
s this strength?
But I digress. There is work to be done. I must rally the others—show them the fruits of my labors. The flame of hope burns bright once more.
* * *
Lhaurel stood atop the Sisters’ Temple, looking down at the sea of people below her, coming out of the waking dream with hardly a pause. It had occurred in an instant, inside her mind, but it resonated within her like the sounding of a bell. The citizens of the Empire below were like tiny dots of color forming a massive pattern that spread outward from the Sisters’ temple like sands blown by the wind. The crowd filled every space as far as she could see, pushing into the perfectly manicured grounds of the mansion houses, spilling out to the very edge of the canals, and even crowding right up to the foot of the massive temple wall upon which she stood.
Lhaurel looked down at these last feet at the very edge of the stone blocks, and felt herself grow lightheaded. She’d been this high countless times before, but that had always been on the back of an aevian. This . . . this was different somehow.
It wasn’t just the height. She stood there, on display before an entire people, garbed in the white half-robes of the Seven Sisters, blue shufari about her waist. It reminded her of when she’d been put before the Sidena tribe on the day of her wedding, a trophy on display, though without a shufari then. There was familiarity here, in this moment, but also a discomforting newness. The shufari meant something different now, hinting at something dark and sinister, but with the potential to also be something light and vastly benevolent. It was her color now. Her power. She was one of them.
Lhaurel felt her powers raging through her, thundering with the power of her own blood and the life force of the thousands below her. The magic coursed through her veins unchecked. She couldn’t stop it, nor was she sure she wanted to. After such a long time without her powers, her body hungered for it, drinking it up like water in the Sharani Desert. And she welcomed it and the strength it gave her. The power. She felt whole and complete again, though it was tempered by the memory of how her powers had returned to her.
Sharani series Box Set Page 97
