The Castes and the OutCastes: The Complete Trilogy

by Davis Ashura

  “The Book of All Souls claims that when we are joined with Devesh, we soar higher than the stars.” Amma's voice was wistful.

  “I didn't know you'd read that book.”

  “I've read lots of books,” Amma replied with a chuckle. “But that particular book is one that your nanna insisted I study when we first married. Over the years, it has brought me a surprising amount of comfort.”

  Rukh smiled. “Jessira is the same way. She keeps asking me to read it as well.”

  “I take it you haven't?”

  “With everything that's happened, there just hasn't been any time.”

  “Time washes away all wants,” Amma said, her expression faraway.

  “Is that a quote?”

  “It's from The Book of All Souls,” Amma said, gracing him with a wry smile. A moment later her smile fell away. “Has there been any word on Hal'El's whereabouts?”

  “None,” Rukh said with a shake of his head.

  “He'll turn up,” Amma said. “Vermin always do at the least opportune time.” Her blanket slipped from her shoulders, and she pulled it back up, irritably waving off Rukh's offer to help. “I'm an invalid, but I'm not useless. I still have my mind. I can still serve.”

  Rukh sensed the effort it took for her to get the words out as well as the effort it took for her to infuse those words with a confidence she likely didn't believe. The knowledge had him blinking back tears. It was hard seeing her like this, so broken and weak. He wanted to help her, but he was powerless to do so.

  Having nothing else to offer her, he brushed aside a stray lock of her hair and kissed her cheek.

  Amma sighed in discontent. “Don't let my frailty fool you,” she said in a waspish tone. “I live and I love. My spirit is still strong. Yours should be as well. It has to be, given what's to come, and what you did at the Advent Trial.”

  Rukh wasn't sure why Amma was bringing up such a conversation now. She needed to rest. That's why he'd brought her out here—not to discuss Hal'El Wrestiva or what Rukh might need to do in the future.

  Amma froze him with a glare. “I've been injured, but I meant what I said: I can still serve,” she rasped. “Don't pity me. I won't see it from my family. I can still have a purpose, but if you and everyone else insist on taking it away from me, then what reason would I have to live?” she asked. “I need you to talk to me as you did before all this happened.” She gestured to her blanket-wrapped body.

  Rukh nodded in understanding. Amma had been hurt. She knew it. She'd never again be the woman she had once been. But it didn't mean she was incapable or useless, which Rukh realized is how he had been treating her since her injury. He reddened in shame.

  Amma stroked his hair, and he reached for her hand, bending over and kissing it. “I'm sorry,” he said.

  “No apologies are needed,” she whispered, stroking his hair once more. “Now, answer my question. Have you truly considered what your actions from the Advent Trial mean?”

  This was a question that Rukh had heard posed many times before and from many different sources, and it still made him uneasy.

  “You can't hide from what you did, Rukh,” Amma said, likely reading the expression on his face. “What you did was special, and there are gifts you've been given that you have to accept.”

  “I have accepted them,” Rukh said. “But accepting them isn't the same as embracing them, especially when I can't even remember what I did.”

  “The memory will return,” Amma said, sounding certain. “But what of the tasks such gifts imply you are meant to accomplish?”

  “I don't know,” Rukh said. “I'm a warrior. I always thought duty alone would carry me through my life, but this requires something more.”

  “And what does it require?”

  Rukh wore an appreciative smile as he glanced at Amma. “I know what you're doing.”

  “And what am I doing?” Amma asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

  Rukh grinned. “What you're doing now. You're questioning me, making me come up with the correct answers on my own. It's how you always taught us.”

  “So you remembered,” Amma said with a warm chuckle that was ruined a moment later by a fit of coughing. She waved Rukh off. “I'm fine,” she declared. “Now, answer my question. What will carry you through your life?”

  Rukh didn't hesitate. “Hope that what I do is in keeping with dharma. And faith that what I do will earn a better life in the next world.”

  “And what else?” Amma asked.

  Rukh's brows creased as he considered Amma's question. What else was there?

  His thoughts cleared a moment later, and he smiled. The answer was love. All along love had been the true reason for his actions. Duty and dharma were important, but his truest motivation had always been love. Love for Jessira, for his family, for his city. “Love,” Rukh answered.

  A pleased expression broke across Amma's face. “In this world, the only true eternals are love and innocence,” she quoted.

  “And hope and faith will guide you to them,” Rukh said, finishing the quote. He smiled. “Jessira loves that saying.”

  “It is a good saying,” Amma said. She closed her eyes and held her face up to the sun as she slept.

  Jessira sighed impatience as members of the House Council argued over how the House should address the question of the Baels and Tigons. They'd been at it for hours, or at least it felt that way. In reality, it had only been about ten minutes, but for Jessira, the question had an obvious answer: the House should support the Baels and Tigons. Why was it so hard to understand? Especially when there were so many other issues to discuss—issues such as Hal'El Wrestiva's whereabouts or the coming attack by Suwraith and Her Plagues.

  Had Rukh's Amma been present, perhaps the decision would already have been made. Unfortunately, she was resting and wasn't expected to make it to today's meeting. Therefore, as it stood, the Council was deadlocked. Janos Terrell and Rukh's Nanna were in favor of adding the House's support to those who believed the Chimeras should be allowed to stay, while Durmer Volk and Teerma Shole, the oldest and newest members of the Council, argued against such a plan.

  “We've already stretched out our necks for enough issues others think of as sacrilegious,” Durmer said. “Supporting the Chimeras is pointless. It will accomplish nothing but harden hearts against any other advice we might offer.”

  “I agree,” Teerma said. “Enough people are already troubled or even outraged by the changes we've wrought in the past few years. If we support these Baels and Tigons, those feelings will simply change to enmity.” She glanced around the room. “And the question has to be asked: what do we truly owe these Chimeras anyway?”

  Jessira had heard enough. “We owe them my life. Without them, no OutCaste would have survived Stronghold's destruction.” She stared a challenge at Durmer and Teerma. “The same holds true for Rukh, Jaresh, Farn, and every Ashokan who journeyed to Stronghold. They would all be dead right now if not for the risks taken by Li-Choke and Chak-Soon.” Jessira rapped her knuckles on the coffee table. “I think that's plenty owed,” she added before settling back into the couch.

  Rukh and Bree, also seated on the couch, gave her tight-lipped nods of approval.

  “Our House owes these Chimeras a debt. We can't simply wave it away,” Janos said in a clear voice.

  “Why not?” Durmer grumbled loudly.

  The door to the study opened. “Because our House has honor,” Rukh's amma rasped into the surprised silence as Jaresh wheeled her inside. “I apologize for my tardiness.”

  Jessira breathed a sigh of relief. Now maybe this topic could be put to rest . . . with the Council coming to the correct decision, of course.

  Rukh's nanna smiled broadly upon seeing his wife. “No need to apologize,” he said. “And based on your pronouncement, I take it you are in favor of throwing support to the Chimeras?”

  “You would be correct,” Satha replied. “We owe them too much, not least of which are the lives of our sons and nep
hew.”

  “A point already raised by Jessira,” Dar'El said.

  “Then why are you still arguing about this?” Satha asked.

  “Fear,” Rukh said. “No one wants to see the House harmed because we chose to support the Chimeras. I think it's too late for that concern, though. Given how everyone knows of my history with Li-Choke and Chak-Soon, I imagine House Shektan is already linked with the Chimeras in the eyes of most people.”

  Durmer appeared troubled. “I hadn't considered that,” he said.

  “Then you think we should support the Chimeras?” Janos pressed the older Kumma.

  “I won't go that far, but . . .” Durmer sighed. “Like Rukh said, it may already be too late to salvage the situation. The Baels and Tigons are already within Ashoka's Walls, and as Rukh rightly pointed out, with his connection to Choke and Soon, we will likely be blamed for the matter.”

  “It looks like I'm the last holdout,” Teerma muttered. “I still vote against supporting the Chimeras.”

  “Your vote doesn't matter,” Dar'El said. “The Council offers advice, but the ultimate authority rests with me.” He glanced around the room. “We'll support the Chimeras.”

  Durmer groaned. “I knew you'd say that,” he complained.

  “The next question is who should stand as our advocate before the Magisterium?” Janos asked.

  “I can do it,” Bree offered.

  “It can't be you,” Rukh said to Bree. “You've already spent your credit when you argued on behalf of the OutCastes. The last thing we need is more people angry at you.” He winked at his sister. “Though it's easy to understand why they might feel that way.”

  Bree gave Rukh a playful poke in the ribs as everyone chuckled.

  “I think the voice speaking on our behalf should be someone of the highest reputation,” Jaresh said. “Someone respected and loved by all.” He stared at Rukh the entire time. “Even worshipped by some.”

  Jessira held back a smile as Rukh groaned.

  “A wonderful idea,” Durmer said, sounding pleased.

  “I thought you were opposed to letting the Chimeras stay,” Jaresh said.

  “I am,” Durmer replied. “But more than that, I can't abide our House losing.” He gestured to Rukh. “By sending our holiest member to argue on our behalf, the Magisterium won't have any choice but to rule in our favor.” Though he tried to hide it, deep respect for Rukh was obvious in the older man's tone.

  Dar'El's lips twitched. “Why, at this moment, do I remember my son playing with mud pies as a child?”

  After the council meeting ended, Nanna asked Bree, her brothers, and Jessira to remain behind. Amma was there as well.

  Nanna seemed to study their faces, and Bree got the sense that he was trying to freeze this moment in his memory for all time. A faint smile creased his face, and his eyes appeared touched with longing. “Our family has suffered much turmoil in these past two years,” he began. “We've lost many we loved. Sophy Terrell. Mira.” He briefly held Jaresh's gaze, who nodded acknowledgement. “And Garnet Bosde, though he still lives, is no longer with us. Bree and Jaresh were attacked, and we almost lost her.” He looked at Rukh. “We thought we lost you as well when you were exiled, but somehow you came back to us.” He smiled more broadly. “And brought home to us a wonderful daughter.” He looked to Jessira.

  Bree eyed her nanna in uncertainty. “Why are you telling us this?”

  Nanna paced away from his desk and moved to stand behind Amma. He put one hand on Jaresh's shoulder and with the other he gently stroked Amma's hair. “Life is a mystery. Who can tell how many more moments we'll have together as a family? Who knows what the future will bring?” he asked, gazing at the top of Amma's head. “Hal'El Wrestiva has returned to Ashoka. He will want revenge on us. And war is coming—Suwraith is coming.”

  Amma shifted in her blankets. “Time is not on our side,” she said in her soft rasp. “We want you all to know how much we love you. That's all. We don't say these things very often, and perhaps we should.”

  By the barest of margins, Bree kept her eyes from filling up with tears. Her amma. Her nanna. Her family. She hadn't always appreciated them, but time and hard lessons had taught her wisdom. The people gathered in Nanna's study—she loved them so much.

  Jaresh snorted, breaking the mood. “I don't think Rukh and Jessira have that problem.”

  Nanna chuckled, while Rukh grinned. “It's not a bad thing to love your wife. Or your family,” he noted to Jaresh. “And Amma's right. We should say what we feel for one another more often.”

  This time Bree couldn't stop it. The tears filled her eyes. “Well, I love all of you,” she declared.

  Jaresh did a double take. “Our formidable sister has a soft heart,” he said with a warm smile even as he drew her into an embrace.

  “I'll deny it if you tell anyone,” Bree vowed with an answering smile and shiny eyes.

  “Love should never be denied,” Rukh intoned, his voice deep, measured, and powerful.

  Bree shot him an uncertain glance. For a moment, Rukh hadn't sounded at all like himself.

  Sign sipped her coffee and pondered the irony of her situation. Here she stood, leaning against the railing of a veranda as she stared out at the glory of the Sickle Sea. The risen sun glowed golden-rose, and the cries of seagulls mingled with the calls of drovers and the songs of early morning buskers. Lifting heavenward were the aromas from Ashoka's myriad restaurants as they competed with and complemented the scent of Sign's fresh-brewed coffee.

  It was a lovely way to start the day, one she could have never imagined a year ago, and yet it left her feeling morose.

  “What's wrong?” Bree asked, coming up alongside her.

  Sign glanced at the taller woman, annoyed as only the tall can be when faced with someone taller. In Stronghold, other than Jessira, there were few women who outstripped Sign in height. In Ashoka, it seemed like every other Kumma did. And their grace and dusky beauty . . . why had Devesh blessed them so abundantly?

  Sign mentally shook off the envious thoughts. They were unnecessary. She had her own gifts and her own worth.

  “What are you talking about?” Jessira asked, coming to them as well. She held out a cup of coffee for Bree, who gratefully accepted it.

  “Nothing,” Sign replied. “I was just thinking of what it means to have a home. After Stronghold's destruction, I never thought I could feel that way about a place ever again.” She gestured to the broad, beautiful city spread out before them. “This place is so seductive and charming. It's so easy to fall in love with it.” She smiled wistfully, sadly.

  “And now you fear for its future?” Jessira guessed.

  “We all fear for it,” Bree said softly. “My parents, my brothers. Everyone.”

  Sign nodded. “I didn't think that I'd come to like this city and her Purebloods as much as I have.” She hesitated. There was one Pureblood—Jaresh—who she liked above all others, but now wasn't the time to bring it up.

  “We may yet prevail,” Jessira replied.

  “Against the Sorrow Bringer?” Sign challenged. “You saw what She did to Stronghold.”

  “Stronghold didn't have an Oasis. We do,” Bree countered.

  “I hope it's enough,” Sign said.

  Jessira smiled. “It's too lovely a day to shed tears over what hasn't yet happened, and by Devesh's grace, may never happen.”

  Sign looked at her and tilted her head in study. “In the past, you used to ask the First Mother or Father for their favor whenever you prayed. What's changed?”

  Jessira's smile retreated. “A personal preference,” she said. “I'd just rather ask Devesh directly for His blessings rather than go through an intermediary.”

  “I've come to feel the same way,” Sign said.

  “And He blesses us with this glorious summer day,” Bree reminded them. “Who knows how many more of them we'll have? We should do our utmost to enjoy it.”

  “Agreed,” Jessira said, lifting her coffee. �
�To sisters and those like us. May we all live loudly every day of our lives.”

  Sign and Bree lifted their cups as well.

  “To sisters,” they all gladly shouted.

  The longing for peace is a desire that never fades.

  ~The Sorrows of Hume, AF 1789

  Shur Rainfall was certain of very few things in his life, but among them was the idea that the OutCastes were a stain upon all Humanity. That Chimeras were unalterably evil was another. And, finally, that only Devesh Himself could bring about the Sorrow Bringer's death.

  Rukh Shektan had challenged all those certainties, and now Shur was certain about nothing, but he was comforted by his enduring faith. He still had belief that Devesh had marked him to carry out His word and His deed.

  Shur paused as he reconsidered his thoughts. His word and His deed. It was a sentiment so like the title to The Word and the Deed, the holy text from which he had drawn so much instruction and solace. Shur grimaced a moment later because even there, Rukh Shektan's touch had tainted what he had once believed to be unalterably true.

  He paced the brick-walled cellar where the Heavenly Council had first formed. They'd been so innocent then, fierce in their determination to return Ashoka to the path of righteousness. It was odd that here in this dank, dark room, such brilliant truth had been revealed; how in this moldy place, such purity of thought had been birthed.

  And this was a place of purity. A fourth certainty.

  Shur felt his resolve firm as his doubts fled. He could do what was needed.

  “We need to go,” one of the Virtuous said, entering the room. It was one of his old lieutenants from when Shur had been in the High Army.

  “How many answered the call?”

  “Fifty-seven.”

  “Fifty-seven,” Shur repeated in disappointment. He still had trouble believing the Virtuous had been so riven by what Rukh Shektan had supposedly done when he had supposedly battled Suwraith. The Virtuous had once numbered in the hundreds, and even after the disaster against the Shektan women, there still should have been many more than fifty-seven to answer the call to battle.