by Davis Ashura
The Jut drew himself to attention. “Yes, Vorsan,” he said. “No offense was intended.”
Choke dipped his head in acceptance of the Jut's apology. “Be cautious with your attitude next time,” he advised. “It might not go as easily if you ever again speak to a superior officer with such disrespect.”
“I will do as you say, Vorsan,” the Jut replied, still standing ramrod straight.
“See that you do,” Choke advised. He eyed the Jut through challenging eyes a moment longer. He wanted the younger Bael to fear him too much to even think of questioning Choke's order. “Pass on my commands to any others you encounter. They come directly from the SarpanKum,” he said. “Mother wishes the pleasure of killing Ashoka Herself. As such, She orders that we are all to return to our places beyond the outskirts of the city's Inner Wall.”
The Jut nodded. “Yes, Vorsan,” he said. “But what of you?”
“Your role is to obey, not question!” Choke ordered. “We have our own mission. Now go!”
The Jut nodded again and spun on his hooves. He shouted for the Smash to turn about and return in the direction from which they had originally come.
Chak-Soon chuckled as the Jut led his Chimeras away. “Funny lie,” the Tigon said. “But is not lie a sin?”
“If a lie saves a life, then how can it be a sin?” Choke asked, momentarily flummoxed that he was arguing philosophy with a Tigon while a city died around them. “Let's get to the Shektan House Seat,” he advised while Chak-Soon pondered his words. “You can answer my question there.”
Jaresh sprinted for the end of the alley. Through the warrens of fashionable Trell Rue he raced on, and on his heels chased a claw of Tigons and other Chimeras, all of them braying for his blood. While he ran, hopefully Sign and Rector could escape. Not for the first time, he cursed himself for volunteering to carry out such a stupid plan. Unfortunately, there was no one else who could do what needed to be done.
After the massive boulder had cracked open the Oasis like a hammer would a nut, the Chimeras had flooded forth in a mass of flesh and weapons. They'd been a rolling tide, seemingly unstoppable, claws out and vicious for the kill.
But the Ashokans had been the obdurate dam that held them back. With sword, arrow, Fireballs, and courage, they had held—at least briefly. At least until the Sorrow Bringer had come. She'd descended like Death, and with Her arrival, the Ashokans had been forced to abandon their positions. While most had escaped the Queen's abrading winds, some had not. Of those who hadn't, Jaresh reckoned nothing more than a few chips of bones remained.
Jaresh hoped Rukh and Jessira weren't amongst those who had fallen.
*Your brother lives,* Thrum said, his voice filled with anxiety. *Reach the end of the alley before the Nocats catch you.*
Jaresh took the Kesarin's advice and ran harder even as he hardened his Shield. In times past, he would never have stood a chance at outrunning a Tigon, but with his Kumma Talents, he could do so—barely.
“Down!” someone shouted from ahead of him.
Jaresh hurled himself to the ground. From ahead of him came a volley of roaring Fireballs. They blew through the Tigons, leaving them nothing more than incinerated hunks of meat. A greasy smoke filled the narrow passage, and it carried the stench of burnt flesh and hair. Jaresh's ears rang, and he coughed.
Sign appeared before him. Dried blood coated one side of her face, while the other side was covered in soot. Her clothes were equally a mess. They were spattered with blood, dirt, and bits of gore. Her hair had come loose from its tie and haloed around her head in a riot of wild, unkempt strands.
Jaresh knew he looked just as torn up. He certainly felt it, anyway. During the short battle atop the Inner Wall, one of his eyes had been blackened, and he'd suffered a gash across the chest. The cut had stopped bleeding, but it still caused him to flinch in pain with certain movements. Running down the alley had been brutal.
Thrum shouldered past Sign and rubbed his head against Jaresh. *You shouldn't have taken such risks,* the Kesarin said, sounding unhappy.
Sign hauled Jaresh to his feet. He swayed and would have tipped over if Thrum hadn't nosed him upright. Sign looked at him with concern. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“I'll be fine,” Jaresh replied. They didn't have time for Sign to bother with Healing him. The Chims would be on them at any moment.
Sign nodded acceptance. “Rector's fine,” she said. “A Shiyen physician Healed the wound to his leg.”
“What about us?” Jaresh asked. “What are our orders?” He noticed the warriors with Sign were dispersing without any particular organization.
“We have none,” Sign answered. “The Sorrow Bringer is moving into the city. She's circling about like She's looking for something.”
“Or someone,” Jaresh said, thinking of Rukh. The Queen had called him 'Linder Val Maharj' or something like that the last time She had faced him. According to Rukh, it was the name of the First Father; the name of Suwraith's Nanna.
“Whatever the reason, She hasn't done much damage yet, but the same can't be said of the Chimeras. The wide streets are doing nothing to slow them down. And every time we stop to fight them, Suwraith arrives and kills anyone who battles the Chims.” Her fists clenched. “It's hopeless. We've been released . . .”
“To be with our families at the end?” Jaresh whispered.
Sign nodded, tears filled her eyes. “It's just like Stronghold.”
*Aia and Shon are taking their Humans to the home of your parents,* Thrum said.
A thunderous boom echoed across the city. Another.
Thrum's ears wilted, and he shrank down in fear.
Jaresh reached for the Kesarin and stroked his shoulder, offering comfort as he turned to the sound. There, hovering above the city was Suwraith. She hurled bolts of lightning. Fires sprung up wherever they touched. They blazed to life with a fiery rush.
“The Queen,” Sign explained. “She's tearing the city apart.”
Jaresh continued to stare, heartbroken as he heard the cries of pain and fear from people running for their lives.
“We have to go,” Sign said, taking his hand and tugging him forward. “Before the Chims cut us off. Rector said he'd meet us at the Shektan House Seat.”
“He isn't going to his own family?” Jaresh asked in surprise.
“He said he owes too much to Dar'El. He said he's honor bound to defend him and his family.”
Jaresh shook his head in bemused admiration. No matter what, Rector Bryce clung to his honor like a dog did its last bone.
“Let's go,” he said.
Aia hated the risks Rukh took. Her Human was the best of his kind, but it didn't mean he should endanger himself against a creature like the Demon Wind. Against the Queen, no victory was possible. It was better to simply flee from Her baleful gaze and pray something else grabbed Her attention.
It was a wisdom Aia wished Rukh would learn. She doubted it would occur to him, not in the short time they likely had left. Instead, Rukh would rail on against the Queen, fight Her to the end. Aia only hoped that when he fell—and she would grieve terribly when he did—she would have a chance to escape the Demon Wind's wrath.
She wasn't sure such would be the case. Fires blazed throughout the city and battles raged. The crackling sounds of buildings burning filled the air as smoke roiled skyward. It was a black cloud intermixed with the black ravens drawn by the dying. An echoing boom reached Aia. Another one came, and she flinched.
*Suwraith's blowing apart some buildings,* Rukh said. For minutes after he'd been struck by the stone, he'd been unable to form a coherent sentence. That confusion seemed to be getting better.
*I wish we were home amongst our family,* Shon whimpered.
Aia noticed her brother settle down under Jessira's gentle touch. It was a touching sight, but one she couldn't help but regret, at least somewhat. If she'd never approached Rukh, she and her brothers wouldn't be in this dire situation. As Shon had said, they would have
been at home amongst their family. Safe with no Human to bind them to a path no Kesarin would have ever otherwise chosen. It would have left Aia free of all attachments that could hurt.
And of any attachment that taught of purpose, service, and sacrifice. She, Shon, and Thrum had learned so much from their time with their Humans. Despite the terrible dangers they'd faced and were facing, Aia realized she wouldn't have it any other way.
Aia purred to Rukh, who was holding tight to her fur. She doubted he understood what she was trying to say, but as he so often did, he surprised her with his insight.
*I love you, too, Aia,* he said, *and I always will.*
*Shon says that Thrum, Jaresh, and Sign are heading for the House Seat,* Jessira said.
Aia felt Rukh's nod of acknowledgment against her fur. *Take us home,* he said.
In the deepest hour of need, search for the helping hand, the soothing embrace, and the forgiving voice. Search for the Lord's Love.
~The Book of All Souls
Rukh's head still ached but the deep-seated throb that made it difficult for him to walk or even see clearly was down to a dull pounding. It was a pain he could ignore—just as he could ignore the blood caked in his eyelashes and on his face, or the small cuts and scrapes on his hands and clothes.
However, he couldn't ignore what was happening to his city. Ashoka burned. Flames engulfed the city as the Sorrow Bringer lashed lightning and set entire districts ablaze. Rukh didn't want to imagine what was happening to those trapped within those areas. Smoke billowed, lofting the scent of burnt wood and flesh. A high-pitched wail came every now and then as the Queen descended to the ground with Her clawing winds.
The fires hadn't yet reached Jubilee Hills, and Rukh hoped Jaresh might make it home so they could see one another a final time. He also hoped his parents were still there to greet them.
They reached the unguarded gatehouse to the Shektan House Seat, and Rukh dismounted Aia. He took a moment to settle his balance—his legs weren't entirely under him—before turning to his Kesarin. *You and Shon should leave,* he said.
Aia blinked. *You no longer wish me in your life?* she asked.
Rukh rubbed his Kesarin between her eyes, one of the places he knew she liked best and swallowed a lump in his throat. Tears filled his vision, and he did his best to blink them away. Aia shouldn't be here. She should be free, back in the Hunters Flats, amongst their own kind. She shouldn't die in Ashoka, not on his account.
*I love you,* he said. *You know that. But you can't stay. You need to go. Run to safety.*
Aia rubbed her head against his. *I will leave when I know all hope is lost. I will take my brothers with me only then.*
*You should leave now,* Rukh urged.
*Only when all hope is lost,* Aia insisted. *Shon feels the same way.*
Rukh hugged Aia. It was the best he could hope for from his stubborn Kesarin.
A deep-voiced hail came to him. “Hold the gate.” Striding up the road came Li-Choke and his band of Baels and Tigons. Directly on their heels were Rector, Jaresh, Sign, and Thrum.
Rukh exhaled in relief upon sighting his brother. He pulled him into a brief hug as soon as Jaresh had pulled up and dismounted Thrum. “It's good to see you again,” Rukh said.
“Don't get used to it,” Jaresh said, managing a strained smile. “We're all likely to be dead in a few hours or even a few minutes from now.”
Rukh lightly punched Jaresh's shoulder. “Always the optimist,” he said. “Farn could take lessons from you.”
“Let me Heal your wounds,” Sign said, taking ahold of Rukh's brother. “It's not just his black eye. He's got a wound to the chest also.”
“We thought we could stand with your family in these final moments of our lives,” Li-Choke said, striding up to join them. “It has been you and yours who were the first to see past prejudice and accept what has always been in our hearts.”
“We'd be honored,” Rukh said, clasping the Bael's forearm. He did the same with Chak-Soon.
“I will stand with your parents as well,” Rector said.
Rukh nodded acceptance. Whatever rationale Rector had for coming to the House Seat rather than going to be with his own family was his own.
As soon as everyone was inside, they closed the gate and barred it as best they could.
The grounds were strangely hushed and empty in comparison to the tumult without. A single swinging barn door was the only lonely sound. Even the birds were quiet. It was an edgy, anticipatory stillness that filled the air, a pregnant pause as if the horrors going on in the rest of the city were simply biding their time before they consumed the House Seat.
Rukh shivered.
Jessira looked his way, a question in her eyes.
“Just nerves,” he explained.
She took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “How long is the journey between Ashoka and Defiance?”
“If the weather doesn't turn, about a week.”
“Then we have to hope it takes the Queen another three days to finish Ashoka.”
“So the ships can reach Defiance before She remembers to go after them,” Rukh said, picking up on Jessira's thoughts. “I sure hope they have those three days.”
“I hope so as well,” she answered.
They trudged hand in hand toward the House Seat when Jessira asked a question that Rukh had been struggling with ever since the Inner Wall had fallen.
“What did you use to break apart that boulder? Is it called a Spear?” she asked.
Rukh looked her way in surprise. “How did you know?”
“Because you said it,” Jessira answered. "You said 'A Spear would split the boulders'. But you didn't say it in your own voice.”
Rukh recalled thinking those thoughts, but he hadn't realized he'd spoken them aloud. He frowned when he took in the rest of Jessira's words. “What do you mean it wasn't my voice?”
“Over the past few weeks, you'll say something, but it isn't your voice. It's deeper and the inflections and pronunciations are different, more formal.”
“How often does this happen?”
“Not often,” Jessira replied. “Only a handful of times.”
“I don't know what it means,” Rukh said, although the more he thought about the voice, the more familiar it seemed to him.
Jessira quirked a smile. “Don't worry about it,” she advised. “None of it matters anymore.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, and they walked the rest of the way in silence.
Jessira followed Rukh into the House Seat while the Chimeras and Kesarins remained outside, retreating to the grounds out back where the battle with Hal'El had so recently occurred.
Jessira startled at how little time had passed since that terrible event. So much had happened since then. Had it really taken place less than two weeks ago? Surely more days had passed than a mere twelve or so. It seemed impossible, but it was true.
Time truly was a wriggling eel, and Jessira wished she could grasp hold of that slippery, sinuous creature and hold it frozen in place, keep Ashoka's death from coming to pass.
Her thoughts turned to other matters as Rukh took them deeper into the House Seat. The soundlessness inside was oppressive with no signs to indicate that the home was occupied. No lights lit the rooms. No conversations or sensations marred the perfect stillness. The servants and their chatty conversations. The delicious foods perfected by Cook Heltin in her kitchen. All were gone now, and their absence left a vacuum, a hollow. The dead might have turned the Shektan House Seat into a mausoleum for all the life to be sensed within it.
Jessira did her best to set aside her macabre thoughts. She didn't want the last moments of her life filled with a gloaming outlook.
Her mind cleared when Rukh brought them to Dar'El's study, and they found his parents waiting within.
Jessira smiled in real joy. Two more people she loved yet lived. Dar'El stood behind his desk and turned to face them as they entered. One of his arms hung in a sling, and h
e had reached for his sheathed sword when the door opened before relaxing when he saw who it was. Beside him, Satha sat in her wheeled chair. A wool throw lay upon her lap. Even in the heat of summer, she got cold easily.
“Thank Devesh you are all still alive,” Dar'El said, breaking into a grateful smile as he came around the desk.
“As Jaresh would say, 'don't get used to it. We'll all likely be dead not too long from now,'“ Rukh said with an answering smile. “Or something like that.”
“Our optimistic son and his sunny disposition,” Satha said with a chuckle.
“Laugh if you like, but someone has to be the voice of reason,” Jaresh stated.
“And that someone is on a ship to Defiance,” Rukh said. “Her name is Bree.”
Dar'El laughed, and the family drew close together, sharing words and holding tight to one another. Sign was also pulled into the embrace.
“Had Devesh allowed, you would have been our daughter,” Satha said to Jessira's cousin. “Marriage vows might not have been exchanged, but the heart has already spoken them.”
Only Rector Bryce stood silent and apart, and Jessira's heart went out to him.
“Why are you here, Rector?” Dar'El asked. “You should go and be with your family.”
“I owe a debt to you and yours. It supersedes my own needs,” Rector replied. He drew himself up to attention.
Dar'El circled past his family and walked to Rector, who was rendered speechless a moment later when Dar'El drew him into a warm hug. “In this last hour of our lives, all trespasses are long since forgiven,” Dar'El said.
Rukh took Jessira's hand, and together, they approached the man who had once caused them so much grief. “All debts were long since forgiven,” Rukh said, clasping Rector's forearm.
Jessira slipped her hand from Rukh's and hugged Rector. “There is no need to be here,” she said. “Go home. Be with those you love best.”
Rector seemed to deflate as he exhaled heavily. He nodded sharply. “Thank you,” he said.
