Embrace of the Medusi (The Overlords Trilogy Book 2)

by Toby Andersen

  The next time I realise you have altered my perception, I will end you. And no amount of hiding until your corpse disappears will save you. I can still feel your mind.

  He wondered how true that was. Had she felt his presence even after his body had fallen to the ground? Had she assumed it was the body, or had she known something? He filed it away for future deliberation.

  This is your one and only second chance, Anthrom. Now get out of my sight.

  Anthrom swivelled on his heel and marched from the chamber. He received a small nod from Harling as he passed the old man, something like approval. As Anthrom climbed the staircase up into the palace, the light that came from the apex seemed to signify something to him.

  Ascending from the darkness into the light, he had somehow survived his own death.

  He had the rest of his life ahead of him.

  He was a free man.

  He could feel it, even as he knew it for a lie.

  Epilogue

  Cassandra Nectris

  It has been months since last I wrote to you, my silent reader. That letter lies abandoned in a derelict hovel near the fast-flowing waters of the everlasting Theris river and unless it has been found, it is there still. It makes little difference to me whether anyone reads these letters, but if I don’t put my thoughts to page, I feel like they will eat away at me from the inside, like the Ephyrae that consume their hosts from within. They scream to be released.

  So much has happened since last I took quill and ink and set my thoughts out in logical order. The setting couldn’t be more different; I sit at the desk of a kindly woman named Omea whose tireless efforts keep the great Nepenth alive and sated. She demands nothing of me, no words or even acknowledgement, content to fuss around me in silence. I suspect her and her husband were never able to have children, and so have unconsciously become the type to spoil any young people who come their way. She insisted on my staying here after the episode with the coral creature she tends. I do not blame her for the decision of a scared Matriarch, the Nepenth she maintains is essential to continued life of Reunalis.

  Omea’s home boasts a wall shaped like one hemisphere of a large soap bubble, and it is through this concave dome that I watch as Reunalis reawakens after the greatest storm it has ever witnessed. She has supplied me with utensils; a tiny quill from the short-winged sea birds that nest in the city’s eaves, sharpened to a fine point, and dark purple ink from the deep glands of an octopus caught by their ingenious fisherfolk. Reunalis has an affinity with the sea that I never witnessed in Theris despite our harbour. Where I thought we were reliant on fishing, Reunalis would die within a week were its stocks to dwindle. From my vantage I can see the great nets they string through the waterfall, catching and retaining every morsel unlucky enough to tumble over the edge.

  When I was waiting for Totelun and Nausithorn to return from Theris, my words, my thoughts felt oppressive and hopeless; now I feel new possibility, and for the first time since we left the city, hope. Nothing will be easy, but I know we can do it. We have been through so much.

  We climbed the silent sentinel, Cartracia. I never thought that possible before I began, but Totelun stitched together clothes out of skins, showed me how to forage and survive in the wilds. I showed him how to traverse Medusi blooms.

  We discovered a forgotten city out of contact with the world for more than a thousand years. Before I’d even explored it, I was fed alive to a coral that they worship like a minor god.

  I rode a Thunwing into battle and rid the world of the most dangerous thrall apart from Noctiluca herself.

  Abrax is dead, and anything seems possible.

  When I put it like that, it seems a lot. Aurelia used to complain that I was the one who was fortunate enough to have adventures. The naive words of a child. But in the last few months I have been places most princesses could only dream of. It has been the most amazing, most exhilarating, most dangerous few months of my life.

  Last night I spoke to Aurelia and she told me of her own adventures.

  Cas, she said, it is so good to hear your voice once again.

  You were silent for days, I said. I worried.

  Swimming in a fog of delirium, said Aurelia, dismissing my anxieties. She always makes my worries seem groundless. I am awake now and well. But listen, I have wonderful news.

  Do tell. As we spoke I watched the frolicking Thunwings sliding over each other, falling off the coral platforms and swooping back to dive back into their rough and tumble games again. I was glad to see it, but envious of their existence, free from concern, free from the fears that assail humans.

  We are on our way into the Northlands now, a seemingly endless train of refugees. My grand army. I could feel Aurelia’s mirth come across our link. I spend most of my time firefighting supply issues and ruling on minor thefts. But anyway, who should we meet within days of leaving the city?

  Who?

  Nausithorn.

  What!? If I could have shrieked aloud I would.

  Until then I had not known how to broach Naus’ death with Totelun. I had been avoiding it. To see him in the days following the death of Abrax, striding through Reunalis, talking to the citizens, playing the leader, I did not want to spoil it all telling him his mentor and friend had confronted Noctiluca and died doing it. I could not. It would have broken him at the moment he seemed most capable of the great responsibility he has.

  Naus is alive and here with me, said Aurelia. He says to give his best to you and Totelun, that he hopes we will all be together again soon.

  I will pass on his message, I sent back. But you said, he is alive. Why phrase it like that?

  Aurelia’s mind seemed to clench, wrap around itself protectively like a pill bug. It took a moment for her to uncoil and share what had scared her.

  I saw him die, Cass. I told you I was sharing a dream of yours, a vision. Every night, a figure would approach the throne of the Medousa and then I would wake before I could see who it was.

  I remember, I said. I had those dreams as well.

  You must have also seen it when the dream played out in full. The figure was Naus, ready to confront Noctiluca. Only he was coerced by her strength, her magic until…She could hardly say it. Until he killed himself. But he is alive. I could sense Aurelia’s relief.

  I thought he was dead until now, I sent. I was preparing to tell Totelun.

  Like all your visions, said Aurelia, everything hinged on a decision. Two different paths. Naus told me he needed to tell Totelun everything he had discovered. He needed a way to contact him.

  He needed a thrall, I guessed. Well, specifically a Cephean.

  Aurelia’s agreement came across our bond. He did not know where you and Totelun were any longer. He said he stupidly did not agree a meeting point. His choice was between going to Theris where he knew you would hear the Medousa’s words, or finding me in Argentor, where I could relay them to you. We bore witness to the alternative decision, Cas, the one he didn’t make.

  Did you hear what he called her? I cut in. Did you listen to their conversation?

  I could feel Aurelia’s affirmation again. He called her Eleutheria.

  Noctiluca and Eleutheria, they are one and the same.

  I can scarcely believe it, Aurelia intoned. Do you remember our games? We would fight over who got to be Eleutheria.

  That’s because the alternatives were all men.

  Or Velella.

  No child wants to play the thrall, I threw back. They know its unnatural.

  But they were both thralls it seems, she said. Noctiluca rewrote history to preserve those legends and protect her new identity.

  For a while we exchanged stories we remembered of Eleutheria, half-recalled legends from classes with Ennius. It was deeply troubling to find out that the woman you had thought of as a role model all your life, that you had emulated and revered, was in fact the greatest threat to humankind since the Overlords. It makes you question everything. What is real if something like that can h
appen? How can I trust any of the old stories? In the end we came to the conclusion we couldn’t; none of the legends were trustworthy unless we heard them directly from Naus himself.

  Even then his memory is failing him, said Aurelia. He doesn’t know why he is also cursed to live for centuries. Something happened to the both of them, something that has long since disappeared from his recollection.

  I wonder if her memory is the same? I said.

  I don’t think so, said Aurelia. She is hard to read, but I got the sense she was still hiding many secrets.

  I agreed. What really hurts my brain is that we witnessed this conversation and we suspect there’s more to know, but the source of our suspicion is a vision of a conversation that never happened, and neither subject have any recollection of it. They didn’t actually meet.

  Aurelia laughed. Don’t try to make sense of it. What about you and Totelun. What are you going to do now?

  I told her everything we’d been through in the last few months, finally able, now that the battle was over. I told her we now had the means to reach the Floating Islands. Totelun has plans to leave soon, I said.

  When will we see each other again? Aurelia asked.

  I couldn’t tell her something I had no idea about. Instead, I reverted to my visions. I have seen us fighting this enemy together.

  I have learnt not to trust your visions.

  That made me smile. Totelun and Aurelia had both survived my omens and now Naus had proven them fallible once and for all. Though I would still suffer them, maybe I needed to be more circumspect in sharing any more premonitions. More than one path leads us back together, Relia. It will happen. I will make it happen.

  I left her to deal with another logistical emergency borne of trying to herd her new nation.

  When I wrote before, I had only recently lost my hearing and speech. The loss was still raw, and its absence was a physical pain. I have since trained myself to read lips and take part in conversations despite my deafness. It is not the hinderance I first thought it would be.

  I am not a liability.

  I have told Totelun this more than once. He’d not the quickest mind, but I think he’s close to understanding.

  When I met Totelun we discovered that we were both fluent in writing Gathralt, a language long thought dead and only studied by scholars and princesses with more education than necessary. We have been able to communicate ever since. He has a sly wit, and a big heart. He feels everything so keenly, more obviously than I, yet he does not worry as I am prone to.

  For a long time in that hovel, I despaired of ever being able to communicate with anyone ever again. I had decided that if I proved to be a dead weight I would leave; find my way to a deaf community somewhere and get out of everyone’s way.

  I’m so glad I never felt like I needed to.

  I sensed Totelun returning to the small suite, turning to surprise him. He thinks he’s a fantastic stealth assassin, but if even a deaf girl can sense him, what hope does he have? He had something strange in his hand, but quickly hid it behind his back. He handed me a note, written on Reunali paper, made from pulped corals.

  [I have no idea what it’s called,] the note said, [but it’s a vegetable. A real one this time.] I remembered the carnivorous snapping legumes that attacked us on the mountain. He revealed the vegetable, halfway between a cucumber and a pineapple and very pink, brandishing it like a weapon. I suspect that here, where almost everything is a type of coral, that it was closer to an anemone than a real vegetable.

  I thanked him, and then wrote a note explaining the vision that both Aurelia and I had witnessed. His face grew solemn as he read about Naus’ death, but then lit up again by the end.

  [So Naus is now with your sister?]

  I nodded, handing him a second note explaining Noctiluca was in fact Eleutheria and how we knew. His first response was, [I knew it.]

  [What do you mean you knew?]

  [Naus told me stories of Eleutheria,] he wrote. [Even then, my opinion of her was of a sadistic ruthless dictator with complete disregard for the lives of her subjects. I’m just not surprised that Noctiluca and her are the same woman. It fits.]

  [But she is so old.]

  [No older than Naus,] he wrote, blasé.

  He was right of course. If we could accept Naus’ incredible age, it was possible there were more immortals around.

  Totelun slid off his boots, crusted with the filth and dirt that built up in Reunalis’ streets. The detritus of the ocean. His jacket and weapons he left on the floor.

  He came over to me, extending a hand, which I took. In the bedroom we fumbled and rolled in the sheets. I kissed those soft bow-shaped lips, he stroked my red hair, held me close. Neither of us really know what we’re doing, but that’s okay. There’s no rush. He is very careful, always allows me to lead. I think he finds it hard to know what I’m thinking because I can’t say so, but I think I make my meaning clear enough.

  Ennius’ lessons never included anything about sex. I think the old man preferred to pretend it didn’t exist. If he had tried to teach us anything I think we would have been too embarrassed with Anthrom there, and Aurelia and I would have fallen about laughing.

  For a long time, we just lay in each other’s arms, just being together. Those are some of my favourite times, when I feel most normal. I’m not a deafmute girl then; I have no disability when we are both just existing in each other’s presence. He isn’t trying to say anything, so I’m not required to hear it, or lipread it. We are just there, present. I rest my head on his bare chest, I can feel his lungs inflating, feel his chest rise and fall. I can almost hear his heart beat; I can feel his pulse vibrate against my cheek. Pressing myself up to something is as close as I get to hearing it.

  I was the one who broke the spell eventually. I reached over and wrote a short message. Aurelia’s question had got me thinking. [What is your plan now?]

  [When we’ve rested we will track down the Islands and fly Shenkhi there. I will tell my parents that I survived. Then we can return here and find a way to destroy the Medusi once and for all.]

  He may intend to return immediately, but I suspect it will not go as planned; he forgets that there is a powerful shaman intent on harming him to preserve their fragile aerial world.

  Does he think that the moment he reveals the truth to his parents that the shaman’s power will just be stripped away, leaving him free to return to his destiny. I don’t have the heart to shatter these illusions. In my experience, the powerful cling to power until their dying breath; they are like the barnacles that encrust every wet surface of Reunalis and are even harder to dislodge. What of the system he seeks to overthrow, what of the Shamana – the caste of shamans – what about their real power? Why do they harvest a Celestial’s crystal every few years?

  I can feel myself getting annoyed at his naivety. I left him dozing and headed back to finish this missive I’ll never send. Does he think he can just come back to Arceth and defeat our real enemy, Eleutheria? More than a millennium she has walked this world, waited in order to make her bid for power. She defeated the Overlords and the world’s biggest cities have fallen to her. How on Arceth does he think we can beat her?

  We know her coercive power is exceptionally strong. Even when Naus, another immortal, confronted her, he ended up killing himself. A sphere of influence surrounds her that makes her impossible to attack directly.

  But I know what Totelun would write. Naus didn’t need foresight to see both his futures, and he chose the one in which he lived. And we will continue to do the same. One correct choice on top of another, until we eventually prevail.

  But I have my doubts, as always. I wish I could just release them, or go about my life without this anxiety. But I can’t.

  Just one wrong choice, one bad decision, and my visions could finally come true.

  I am having fewer and fewer of them. It feels a little like my power is waning, but I have come to realise it is instead that less and less paths remain a
vailable. As the different possible events coalesce together, there are fewer tangents and routes to go down.

  But I still cannot rid myself of them. As they become fewer they also become stronger. As the options become more limited, so they also become more likely.

  Aurelia faces an uncertain future, balancing on the knife edge between discovery by the forces of Eleutheria, and the collapse of her new nation from within. She wrestles a beast with a hundred thousand heads. Humans are fallible creatures, mistakes are easily made and in the white-hot forge of a new city, ambitions bubble to the surface. I have seen her follow in the footsteps of our esteemed ancestor, founding a nation ringed in safety, but I have also seen her lead her new army into battle only to die at Noctiluca’s feet.

  My brother Anthrom’s future was terribly clouded until he became a thrall, until that decision actually became real to him. His ability to bend perception now seems to obscure any attempt to see his future, as if he is in control of what I can see. I have been given just one vision of Anthrom, confronting something grotesque, tumescent and monstrous, some corruption not willing to reveal itself.

  Naus will go on to find yet more answers, there’s no doubt about that. Every path leads him to their discovery and he is not yet satisfied. But it’s the ramifications of those answers I can’t see, the answers to questions he has not yet even thought to pose. I see them shatter an already broken man into a thousand pieces, so much that I doubt he will survive it.

  And so, I come finally to Totelun and I…

  What do you do when the vision hinges not upon the decision between life and death, but instead the decision between one life and another? As my visions coalesce, the paths converge into just one.

  If I stay with him, I see a future in which Totelun and I eventually face Eleutheria and every creature she can muster to oppose us. There will come a time, when only one final decision remains, my life or his. One of us will die, but which one will be up to me.

  I don’t know what to do. As I look out on a glorious sunrise refracted through the waterfall I want to cry at the beauty of it. I feel Totelun’s hand on my shoulder, and I know that for all the peace of the moment there is darkness to come.