by S Kaeth
She stayed well out of the way as Kaemada meddled, talking with one group of Kamalti after another, apparently striving to build some sort of understanding. They were all changed. Nothing could go back to the way it had been. They would have to figure out this new way of being and whether the Kamalti would be part of it. They couldn’t be, though. At least, not until there was justice for Takiyah’s torture.
Judgement hung over them, but Ra’ael scoffed at the idea. The Kamalti held no true authority over them, even considering their captivity. Between visits with Dode, Ra’ael conferred with Taunos, preparing several contingency plans, just in case. They would not be caught unawares again. Takiyah’s eyes sparked with suspicion every time she looked at a Kamalti, even Dode, even the Doctor who thanked her for repairing the healing machine.
Humming the ancient Torkaema’s Lament, Ra’ael tapped a separate rhythm with each hand while she waited for the water to heat. Taunos joined in a moment later with a third rhythm and a harmony. No surprise there—he’d always been a light sleeper. When he was home, she often tried to sneak past him in the mornings without waking him. She rarely succeeded.
She glanced at Elisabei and Reinan. They seemed unaffected by the rituals, but surely they would need comfort from traumas, too. So she offered them a nod as they woke, continuing her humming and forgiving them for not adding their voices.
“What do you do when words fail, when there are no more songs to be sung, and the dancers are sleeping?” she sang as she poured hot water into cups to steep the tea. She lifted the tray, letting go of both rhythms, and smiled at Taunos as he added in another.
Takiyah and Kaemada woke to the rich, slow tones washing over them, just as she’d intended. Torkaema’s farewell to Naran was a perfect encapsulation of loss and uncertainty. It was her favorite to help people work through trauma—something the Dark attacks had given her plenty of experience with. In the song, Naran never came down from the Holy Mountains, and so far, neither had they. She handed each a cup of tea as they sat up, cautioning Eian to take care with his as it was hot.
Song complete, Ra’ael continued with a morning ritual to ease the waking minds of the others. She turned her face to the east, closing her eyes as if she could feel the warmth of the rising sun by force of will alone. “I give thanks for the sunrise.”
“I give thanks for us all being together,” Taunos said, giving her a look as he sipped his tea. She smiled at him, grateful he was playing along.
“I give thanks for you all being alive.” It was the same gratitude Kaemada had expressed each morning since Ra’ael began this ritual, but Ra’ael let it go, for it sounded heartfelt.
Takiyah was silent, as she tended to be, and Eian took over for her. “I give thanks for secrets found.”
A smile brightened Kaemada’s face and she tousled his hair.
Takiyah finally stirred and straightened. “I want to go home.”
Ra’ael opened her mouth to speak, but Takiyah abruptly stood, setting aside her cup and limping to the side room where the latrines were. Her limp remained even after multiple times in the machine. She would have it all her life, along with the scars from her branding. Ra’ael only hoped her spirit didn’t have similarly permanent wounds. She glanced at Taunos, who gestured peace. There was comfort in letting go of her antagonism toward him.
With her smile melted away like morning mist, Kaemada hunched over her tea, staring into its depths.
“Kae. What is it?” Ra’ael refused to allow wallowing.
Kaemada huddled into a ball, but she responded without further prodding, which was an improvement. “I can still smell the burning, feel the flames. I dreamed all night the city was burning.”
“They have done us much injury, but little sister, burning the city?” Taunos eyed her the way Takiyah eyed broken machines. “That does not sound like you.”
“It’s not my wish! I had no desire for such thoughts.”
“Perhaps the spirits are telling you something,” Ra’ael said.
“An opportunity to take advantage of?” Taunos asked.
“Or a chance to avert disaster?” Ra’ael mused, nodding to Takiyah as she returned.
“Plans,” Eian said.
Takiyah’s gaze flashed to Eian. “Plans?”
The boy looked at her solemnly without elaborating. Kaemada plucked at her shawl, her expression growing darker.
Sipping her tea, Elisabei joined them. “Can psions not unintentionally pick up on others’ thoughts?”
“It’s forbidden,” Kaemada cried.
“Taboo,” said Eian.
Ra’ael shook her head. “All this stress would weaken your mental walls, Kaemada.”
Kaemada nodded slowly, and Ra’ael continued, “If the sender also had heightened emotions, it would stand to reason that these plans could bypass your mental defenses, especially while you’re asleep.”
Taunos nodded. “Good point, but why share their plans in advance? And we haven’t met any psions, so who’s the sender?”
“We met Kamalti psions.” Elisabei’s tone made the hair on the back of Ra’ael’s neck rise.
Kaemada nodded. “They live on the outskirts in a community of their own. Somehow they caught me when I fell.”
“But why warn us? Why send their plans to Kaemada?” Ra’ael asked.
“Maybe they think she would be on their side.” Takiyah hesitated, then lowered her gaze and muttered, “I’m not entirely against it, I must say.”
Taunos shrugged. “After what they did to us, who could blame you?”
“Why not just find out?” Elisabei interrupted.
“What?” Ra’ael asked.
“Instead of speculating, why doesn’t she simply ask them why? They don’t seem to have the typical Rinaryn taboo against touching another’s mind.”
“That does not mean I may trespass.” Arms wrapped around herself, Kaemada looked frightened and fragile.
“Who would it hurt?” Taunos asked.
“The rules are there for a reason,” Ra’ael argued.
“Seems silly for having a person with such abilities and the community for saying, ‘You have a great gift—now never use it,’” Reinan rumbled.
“That’s not how it is.” Ra’ael clenched her fists, glaring at Reinan.
“Really?” Taunos asked. “It seems to me Reinan has a point.”
“Whose side are you on?” Ra’ael turned on him. Taunos and Reinan had been spending a lot of time together in the last few days.
Taunos raised his hands in appeasement. “You must admit, it’s rather strange that our culture is more accepting of your blood rage than our psionic abilities.”
“The rules are there for the protection of all,” Ra’ael said. “You know our history. If your memory needs a refresher, I will happily give it.”
“No,” Kaemada breathed, opening her eyes. “It was a mistake.”
“Come up with an original argue—” Taunos halted mid-sentence and turned to his sister. “What was a mistake?”
“They’re not used to shielding their thoughts from others who may eavesdrop.” She flushed with shame. “I really did not mean to hear.”
“Shareil, cha’atanahn, you’re not on trial here.”
“Why are they planning to burn the city?” Ra’ael asked. She wouldn’t toss out such useful information, even if Kaemada’s actions were ill-advised.
“More importantly, when?” Takiyah asked.
The color drained from Kaemada’s face. “Oh no. What have I done?”
“When?” Takiyah insisted.
The doors burst open and the senior Doctor rushed in, all decorum abandoned. “Move, move, move, we must escape.”
Screams and shouts echoed from outside. The building shuddered around them. The Doctor grabbed the healing machine, cradling it in his arms as he dashed out of the Healing Hall ahead of them.
“I think that’s our answer,” Ra’ael said.
“Move, move, outside now!” Taunos urged, r
epeating the words of the Doctor.
Ra’ael quickly led her people onto the streets, glancing back to make sure everyone was following. Taunos held Eian in one arm and guided Kaemada ahead of him with the other. Elisabei and Takiyah clustered in the middle, carrying bags of supplies, and Reinan hefted his bag of newly prepared Boom and brought up the end of their ragged little group.
Smoke rose above the buildings in their neat rows, and the crash of stone striking stone rang out nearby. People screamed and raced past, while the sounds of slaughter echoed in the wide streets, creating a horrifying cacophony.
“Is this truly happening?” Horror filled Kaemada’s face. “The psions are coming. They said… they said I taught them the ways of warfare, the value of liberty. They come for revenge.”
Enormous blocks of stone, each as tall as a person, soared in an arc before crashing through the city. The massive columns that held up the cavern ceiling and doubled as residences shivered with the impact, dust rising from them. People filled the stairs and lifts on the outside of the columns, packed together. One unlucky side was struck directly, and the stone sheared off the entire lift, then rotated and clipped the stairs, wrenching them away from the building. Screams, punctuated by the thud of more stones, filled the air.
The higher levels, where the smoke rose from the machines of the rich, were inhabited by the poor, and the stairs downward became death traps as panic mounted and people were trampled.
“It’s our chance to get out,” Elisabei said.
Takiyah nodded, her eyes hard.
Ra’ael turned stair-ward. She could just see the stairs chiseled into the side of the cavern. Her eyes swept Detr-ward. Dode’s house was just up the street, near the base of one of those columns. How would Dode survive this? She had enemies and they might take advantage of such chaos to gain their revenge on her. Ra’ael chewed on her lip, rubbing her sweating palms on her too-slick Kamalti clothes. She had to put her duty to her own people first. They needed her most.
Kaemada’s voice quavered. “‘We are powerful. We are strong. We’re not subject to their judgement of our worth!’ That’s what I told them. And now this!”
“Oh, cha’atanahn,” Taunos groaned.
Ra’ael shook her head. “You cannot take the guilt for everything others do. Let them take responsibility for their own actions. There are many more Kamalti than us—it’s folly to assume we would make any difference.”
Mind made up, she led the way through the streets, trying to avoid the sounds of violence. They darted behind the gelatin shop, around the square of glassmakers, only to be confronted by the blaze that had been the cluster of papermakers. Next to it, the flames licked at the copyists’ garden. Ra’ael backed up as another stone crashed into the ground two blocks behind them, obliterating the once impeccably straight street and tossing debris into the air. Angry shouts and shrieks of pain came from the section of papermakers’ shops.
She coughed, struggling to breathe through the dust and smoke. The elegance of the Kamalti’s clean lines was turning to rubble. Another stone whistled through the air, and this time she saw its origins—the chasm. The boulder crashed against another pillar, and figures fell screaming from the stairs which were ripped from their anchors. The psions must be throwing rocks at the city, working together in vast numbers to lift such heavy weights. How many were there? She trembled with the need to fight, but they needed a way out, not a battle. Not with Eian with them, and with Takiyah and Kaemada so vulnerable. She reoriented herself. They’d have to pass close to one of the columns with residences—assuming the street remained clear.
“We have to help them,” Kaemada shouted over the noise.
“It would be wrong to stay and die.” Takiyah’s features grew hard and she continued limping toward the stairs.
“Rinaryn do not stand by and let others suffer. We cannot just let them die!”
“They’re not Rinaryn,” Ra’ael shouted.
“No, but we are.” Kaemada wrenched herself free from Taunos’s grasp.
“I’m not staying,” Takiyah snarled.
“Eian cannot stay either,” Kaemada said, pushing her brother forward. “Go, get out, get him home safely. Get Takiyah home safely, too.”
“We’re all getting out safely,” Taunos started.
“No. The best way to keep Eian safe is for me to stay. If I can turn the psions away or delay them long enough, you can escape with him. But I cannot leave these people—children, elderly, people who cannot fight—to die when I put them in danger. I witnessed too much pain and did too little in the palace. I cannot bear to do nothing again.”
Ra’ael shook her head. Kaemada was the heart of them all, but there were times when the mind needed to rule over the heart. As much as she wished they could help, the risk was too great. How many hits could the pillars take before the ceiling collapsed on them all? Sometimes not everyone could win.
“I’m the only one who can do this. And I’m doing it.” Tears streamed down Kaemada’s face as she kissed Eian, who began to cry. Then she embraced her brother. “Go. Please, keep him safe. But go!”
Leave Kaemada behind? Another rock crashed against another column, and the air filled with screams. No. She couldn’t. And Takiyah couldn’t last much longer. They were her responsibility.
There was a way to take care of them all. A way that went against all their laws. She swallowed hard, grabbing Kaemada’s arm to impress her words on her. “Kaemada, listen to me. Do what you need to do, but your body is coming with us.”
Eyes wide, Kaemada nodded. Another impact resounded, knocking them off their feet. Leaping back up, Ra’ael glanced at the chasm. The bridge to Hadr was gone. Figures, small in the distance, lined the Hadr side, and Ra’ael squinted. Crossbows. They fired in volleys, yet still, a flood of ragged Kamalti surged over the lip of the chasm, whipping smaller stones ahead of them at the trapped and injured. The distance was too far—Codr was cut off from help.
Her people had to come first, she reminded herself. First and greatest, she was priestess. So why did her heart feel so heavy? She prayed for Dode’s safety and pushed forward, winding between the locksmiths’ and the jewelers’ blocks. Takiyah jogged beside her with a lurching but determined stride, hands flexed and ready to release her flames. Taunos carried his sister, who had apparently lost no time dreamwalking, while Eian trotted at his side. Elisabei and Reinan brought up the rear.
The air was thick with smoke and dust, choking her. The cavern’s ceiling collected the smoke, forcing the poor who lived higher above ground level to spill from the limited protection of their homes in search of air they could breathe. The stairs began to screech and buckle beneath their burdens.
They turned the corner of one of the columns. One of the lifts had stuck, packed beyond capacity with desperate refugees. Young and old, trapped in a metal box swinging helplessly many paces above the ground. Bedraggled Kamalti lurched up the switchback staircase attached to the column, making their way toward the stranded lift.
Ra’ael had never expected to wish for the arrival of the Scouts, but she found herself angry that they weren’t here to help. She gritted her teeth. Takiyah and Eian had to remain her priority.
More ragged Kamalti came down the street toward them, some with smooth gaits, others shuffling along. Ra’ael pun around, but the thick press of bodied clogged the streets behind them. They were surrounded.
~
Kaemada hurled her mind from her body. Her brother’s song surrounded her body as he caught her, carrying her. She reached out to him. There’s a chance I’m not strong enough. There are so many minds… I might be lost in the Collective.
You’re on psion duty, little sister. Protect our minds; I will keep your body safe. Then come back to us.
Taunos would try to be the hero and sacrifice himself to get them out. But not this time—she wouldn’t let him. He deserved the very brightest of stories. All four of them did.
Now to seek out the Collective. Her mind swa
yed without an anchor, without Tannevar. But she didn’t need to find the psions. They found her, crashing over her like a waterfall.
She embraced them. Ripples of surprise and suspicion moved through their shared mind. They had expected her to fight them, to act the warrior again, as she had spent so long trying to do, chasing a dream that had died the night Tikatae stabbed her in the knee.
She leapt on their confusion. Stop this mind-sickness!
Mind-sickness? This is not madness, but sanity. No longer will we be relegated to the darkness. Join us in our glory.
There is no glory here, only slaughter. It’s mind-sickness.
The vermin Above deserve no less for casting us Below. We will not return Below! We will die first.
Your anger is right. But there are innocents here—my friends, my brother, my son. I will not let you hurt them.
They are lesser. They are weak. You cannot truly be friends with them.
No! You think the other Kamalti will stand for this? They will seek revenge. You will all be destroyed.
Not if we destroy them first. You are one of us. Why are you doing this? Why do you attack your own?
Around her, several psions stopped, falling to the ground, and their presence in her mind became stronger, more physical. She stared around her. They were dreamwalking?
Laughter rippled around her. Yes, your dreamwalking, as you call it, is not a unique ability.
I have never met anyone else who could do it. Kaemada retreated a little.
It takes telepathy and telekinesis—not an unusual combination.
It’s unusual in Rinara.
Your people are broken. Psionics should be much more common.
Kaemada shook herself mentally. Please! This isn’t what I meant. You’re Kamalti, whatever you might say. These are your own people you’re hurting.
They do not have the Gift. They are not ours.
They’re people! What of the others thrown away with you, those who do not have the Gift?
They are of us. Of us, and lesser.
Lesser, you say? Lesser, as the Kamalti think of you? A society of status, just like those you focus your hatred on? Kaemada poured out what she’d learned of Kamalti society from her talks with Answer, displaying it for them. How can you say you’re different from those who mistreated you?
