by Anna Kashina
“We spent a lot of time treating their wounds,” Celana said. “Thanks to Magister Egey Bashi’s magical remedies, most of them are out of danger and will recover well. But Aghat Mai…” She averted her eyes.
Kyth’s skin prickled as he followed her gaze to the huddled group of people at the back of the healing area, eerily quiet amidst the general bustle.
“I have to go there now,” he said.
She nodded and stepped away.
Mai lay flat on his back, as still as he had been back in the Kaddim’s chamber. His hollow cheeks and creamy white skin made him look nearly transparent, ghostly. His eyes were pressed shut, on their own or through the healers’ effort, Kyth wasn’t sure. It seemed only partially comforting that the wound at his throat had now closed, leaving only a very small scar behind.
Kyth stood still for a moment, watching Egey Bashi’s grim look as the Keeper put a small bottle carefully into a special pocket of his medicine bag. The healing elixir. Kyth tried to convince himself that the sight of this bottle should make him feel reassured. This elixir worked only on living flesh. If the Keeper had used it on Mai and the wound had closed, Mai should be all right, shouldn’t he? He clung to the thought, refusing to acknowledge the way everyone here sat so eerily silent, as if attending a wake.
When Kyth stepped forward and knelt at Mai’s side, Kara, raised her face to him. Her frozen expression made his heart skip a beat.
It took her a moment to recompose before she spoke. “It isn’t working.”
Kyth swallowed to steady his voice. “It will. Just give him time.”
She shook her head. “It was supposed to work. I learned this blow, Mai taught me himself. He also showed me the pinch on the pressure points used to revive the victim afterwards. I tried it, but…”
Kyth touched Mai’s wrist, finding the weak, uneven pulse that seemed as if it was about to fade. Mai’s skin felt very cold. He rubbed it tentatively, wondering if any of the magic he learned could possibly help Mai to warm up. His mind grasped to the tiniest shreds of logic, trying and failing to find a way out. The blow. The revival pinch. He had seen it done before, when Mai had revived Kara after making their Guild believe she was dead. Back then, Raishan tried to do it too, and failed. Could it be that if someone else, not Kara, tried it now, it would work?
It didn’t seem likely, but they couldn’t just give up, could they?
“This blow,” he said. “There must be someone else among the Majat who learned it too.”
“Yes, all Diamonds learn it at some point. I already asked all of them. None of them are strong enough to try it yet, but they all confirmed I did it right. Nobody knows what else to do.”
“How about Seldon?”
“Seldon?”
“He’s a Diamond, isn’t he?”
She hesitated. “Yes, but he retired, years ago. His skill is not what it used to be.”
“Still, I assume he learned the blow, did he?”
Her gaze wavered. “He might have, even though I’m not sure he was still active when the blow was invented. I don’t think that…”
“Is there any harm in asking?”
“I suppose not.”
Kyth rose to his feet. “Wait here. I’ll bring him.”
It seemed as if she was about to protest, but she bit back her comment, her helpless look echoing with a hollowness in his chest. He didn’t feel strong enough to handle this now, but he couldn’t possibly let her down.
Kyth found Seldon on the other side of the camp, giving orders. Men obeyed him left and right, including the Cha’idi and the Golden Lion warriors rushing around together with the Majat, loading the seriously wounded onto stretchers to carry them back to camp. When Kyth approached, Seldon stopped his activity, watching him with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. Kyth was surprised when Seldon briefly inclined his head, pressing his fist to his chest in a Majat salute.
“Your Royal Highness. Allow me to congratulate you on a brilliant victory.”
“Thank you, Aghat Seldon,” Kyth said. “We all played our parts. Including yours, which gave us a chance to defeat their leaders. Well done.”
Seldon’s smile in response seemed even more unexpected. Up until now, Kyth never thought he would be in a position to praise a Diamond for a well fought battle – or to see his praise appreciated.
“I came to ask you for help, Aghat Seldon,” he said. “Can you please come with me?”
Seldon nodded, then turned away briefly to give some quick orders that sent his subordinates into a new flurry of activity. He didn’t ask any questions as he followed Kyth, demonstrating beyond words how deep a trust Kyth had earned by playing his part in the battle. Well, if this kind of a trust could help save a friend’s life, it was definitely worth it.
He led Seldon to the place where Kara still sat, holding Mai’s hand. Wordlessly, Seldon knelt by her side. Kyth could tell by the way his lips pressed together briefly as he looked down at the outstretched body that Mai’s condition affected him deeply.
“I’m not sure I can do anything,” Seldon said.
Kyth glanced at Kara, but she didn’t even look up, or show any other reaction to these words. Still, Kyth simply refused to give up.
“I understand,” he said, “that Kara tried to spare Mai’s life by hitting him with a special blow that is supposed to be non-fatal. She’s having trouble reviving him. I know you learned this blow too, Aghat Seldon. Perhaps you could help?”
Seldon frowned as he leaned closer and examined the small scar at the base of Mai’s neck. Then he turned to Kara. “Was it Viper’s Kiss you used?”
It took Kara a moment to answer, as if she was having trouble composing herself.
“I tried,” she said. “But he was defending against three of us at the time. With the kind of fight he put up, there was no way in hell I could do it right.”
Seldon looked calm and absorbed, as if they were discussing a scholarly matter. “Show me exactly at which angle the blade went in, and how deep.”
Again, she paused briefly before taking out a saber and demonstrating. Kyth’s heart quivered as he watched her detached expression.
Seldon observed Kara’s movements carefully, then took the blade and measured the distance with his palms, swinging it over Mai several times, as if about to hit him again. Kyth resisted the urge to look away as they wielded such a sharp blade so close to a sick man. At some point he felt like interfering, but Kara’s calm look reassured him.
Finally Seldon put the blade down and did more measurements on Mai’s chest.
“I was around when Aghat Mai invented that blow,” he said. “Before formalizing it, our Guildmaster assigned me to work through it with him to figure out all the possible pitfalls. It is not commonly known that we found a number of scenarios which could make this blow just as fatal as any other. You’ve come close to one of them, I’m afraid.”
“How close?” A strain in Kara’s voice showed Kyth she was on the verge of a breakdown. He didn’t blame her. With everything she had gone through, anyone else would have collapsed a long time ago.
“Very close,” Seldon said. “However, before giving up, I can think of one or two things we could try.” He grasped the collar of Mai’s shirt and ripped it open, exposing his chest. His hands flew so fast that Kyth couldn’t follow them at all, hitting several points with the force that seemed strong enough to break ribs.
Mai gasped and opened his eyes.
Kara clasped both hands over her mouth, as if stifling a sob. Kyth felt a lump rise in his throat.
A smile creased Seldon’s lips. Then he raised his hand and hit again, forcing Mai to double over, choking.
“Bloody hell, Aghat Seldon,” Mai rasped. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Seldon sat back on his heels, his smile spreading into a wide, relieved grin. Kara’s hands, still covering her mouth, trembled and Kyth saw tears standing in her eyes.
Mai moved with visible difficulty as he turned his head.
His eyes widened as he focused on Kyth, then on Kara, his gaze stirring with such relief that Kyth felt the tingle of rising tears again.
Kara picked up Mai’s hand, pressing it to her cheek as she briefly closed her eyes.
Mai watched her, gentle as if she was the one that needed care. He moved his head with difficulty and winced, relaxing back into his bedroll. His eyes fixed on Kyth. “The Kaddim?”
“We won,” Kyth said. “And most of your men are alive. Kara saved them all.”
Mai briefly closed his eyes. He still looked very pale. His shaky hand reached up to stroke Kara’s hair. She leaned into his palm, and Kyth saw a tear roll down her face.
“Don’t try to move just yet,” Seldon warned. “You need time, Aghat Mai. This Viper’s Kiss was too damned close.”
Mai’s lips twitched. “Do I look like I’m going anywhere?”
“I’ll fetch Magister Egey Bashi.” Seldon rose and strode off.
Mai’s eyes trailed after him, then turned to Kyth. “You’ll have to tell me what happened.”
“I will, when you’re better.” Kyth stood up. “For now, I think I’ll, um, leave the two of you alone.”
Mai opened his mouth to respond, but just then, a roll of thunder from down the valley forced Kyth to spin around.
The Kaddim fortress was collapsing, its walls and towers folding onto each other like an elaborate house of cards. Stones boomed as they clashed and rained to the ground, sifting, dissolving into dust, raising clouds of sand in their wake. A curtain of dust rose into the air, thickening until it hid everything from sight.
The Kaddim magic, gone. The Kaddim cult falling back into the underworld that had spawned it.
It took a while for the sounds to cease, for gusts of wind to blow the sand around, shifting it among the rising dunes. When it settled, nothing in the desert reminded them of the fortress that stood there, just a short while ago.
Mai lifted up on his elbow, watching, with Kara supporting him.
“I’ll be damned,” he said.
Kyth smiled. It felt good to hear Mai’s swearing, to know that things were going to return to normal again. He turned and strode away.
Ellah, Alder, and Celana were sitting together at the edge of the camp, watching him approach. Kyth felt exhausted but so relieved as he lowered to the ground by their side. After a moment, Celana huddled closer and leaned her head on his shoulder. He put an arm around her, feeling happy and carefree like he hadn’t been in a very long time.
42
Amends
Kara couldn’t bring herself to let go of Mai’s hand. She simply couldn’t find enough strength to break the connection, to stop feeling the warmth of his fingers as they closed over hers carefully, as if handling a precious and fragile piece. Numb, she watched Egey Bashi feel Mai’s pulse, then rub some ointment into his temples and measure out drops of different potions into a drinking cup. Mai had to sit up to take the medicine, and she could see how much difficulty it caused him to move. I did this. I nearly killed him.
The numbness remained as Egey Bashi looked over her own forearm, still harboring a bad burn where the Kaddim mark had been. It hurt, the ointments he rubbed into her skin bringing only partial relief, but for once she welcomed the pain, a feeling that grounded her in reality, slowly settling in the awareness that the war was truly over.
The emotions that overwhelmed her were too enormous for her mind to enfold, far too much to deal with in such a short amount of time. Relief came first among them, and she did her best to cling to it, reminding herself again and again that her Kaddim link was truly gone, that Mai was alive and expected to make a full recovery, that despite the way the Kaddim had twisted her mind she managed to avoid killing any of her comrades. She forced away the memories of what it felt like, a unity of mind with eleven men she loathed, the fear that every time she managed to twist their movements as they went for the kill they were going to discover what she was doing and ruin all her plans.
When, at the onset of the battle, she had made her first attempts to resist and control them, the pain that came with each of those blows had been disabling. Yet, she still had to keep fighting to maintain the pretense, to make sure the Kaddim didn’t spin out of her control. She tried to tell herself that the emptiness she was feeling now was the result of the trauma, that it was going to pass, but deep inside, she couldn’t bring herself to believe it. Mai nearly died just now, all because of her. And now that the fight was over, their time together was going to come to an end. To marry the heir to the Shayil Yaran throne he’d first need to renounce his Majat ties, an action that would also bring about his own death warrant. She couldn’t possibly allow this to happen. The best she could do was let him go as soon as possible. Except that she simply couldn’t do it, not at all. As a warrior, she wasn’t supposed to hesitate when doing the right thing. The difficulty she was having right now was yet another indication that she was simply too damaged to ever be herself.
After a while she realized that everyone else was gone, and that Mai had been watching her for quite some time. A smile was playing on his lips, but she also saw the concern behind it. He could understand her like no other. How was she ever going to explain any of her feelings to him?
He pulled himself upright to sit next to her, blood draining from his face from the effort. He should be resting now, but as she opened her mouth to tell him that, his look stopped her.
“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he said.
She knew how impossible it was to dodge the question. Mai could see into her soul. It was useless to lie to him, or try any pretense.
“It was too close,” she said
He patted her arm and she leaned against his shoulder, briefly closing her eyes as she reveled in his closeness. She knew he was weaker than her right now, that she shouldn’t be seeking comfort from him, but she just couldn’t resist burying her face in his chest, inhaling his scent. Just a short while ago she thought she would never be able to do this again. Was there any harm in pretending, even for a moment, that this was how things were going to be from now on?
“I nearly killed you,” she said. “I nearly killed everyone.”
He shook his head. “Not you. The Kaddim. And now they’re all dead.”
“Thanks to you and Kyth.”
“Thanks to Kyth. All I did, along with the others, was buy him the time.”
By throwing yourself on my sword. The image of their last fight just wouldn’t leave her mind, the knowledge that she had no choice but to strike Mai down and make everyone believe he was dead, the awareness that with his fighting skill she would never be able to do it right.
“Incidentally,” Mai said, “it’s over, if you haven’t noticed. The Kaddim cult is gone. And, thanks to you, we’re all alive to see it. So, you should really take at least a brief moment to congratulate yourself. Without you guiding the Kaddim’s hands, the fight would have gone very differently.”
Congratulate yourself. Of course he would be thinking this way. He couldn’t possibly know what it felt like, having her mind and body dominated, twisted into destroying everything she loved. To go on with her life, she had to deal with this memory, overcome it, but for now she felt content just sitting next to him. Alive. They were both alive, her Kaddim link was gone, the war was over. Why couldn’t she just focus on that?
She shifted in his embrace, so that she could see his face as he sat there, staring at the place where the Kaddim fortress had been. Gone, as if it’s never been here at all. Dear Shal Addim.
She sensed Mai sit up straight and lifted her head to see Raishan and Lance walking toward them.
They both looked unscathed, moving with their usual grace and ease, as if they hadn’t faced death just a few hours ago. Watching their smiles as they approached and lowered to the ground by their side, she thought back to the way she had twisted the blows when the Kaddim they had been fighting tried to strike them down. It had been easy to make the blow to the head Lance received look conv
incing – and she was sure it still hurt, despite all the treatments. It had been more tricky with Raishan, tilting the blade poised to pierce his heart into slicing the flesh over the ribs instead, targeting the pressure point that sent him to the floor in a death-like coma, making his Kaddim opponent believe he was dead. It wasn’t a blow one could learn from a book, but it proved to be a very useful one when conjured on the spot. Perhaps the Majat could start teaching it to their trainees one day?
She knew she hadn’t been so lucky with all the Majat. Yet, she found at least marginal comfort in her certainty that she did everything she possibly could.
Raishan’s smile widened as he looked at Kara. She blinked. How could he still look at her this way after facing her in battle as an enemy?
“I understand we have you to thank for saving all our lives, Aghat Kara,” he said.
She swallowed, her eyes sliding over the bruise that darkened the side of Lance’s face. The worst of it was probably be hidden by the hair. It couldn’t possibly have felt good. “I wish I could’ve done better.”
“I don’t think anyone in your place could’ve done nearly as well,” Lance said.
She shook her head. “If it wasn’t for Aghat Seldon’s knowledge, Mai wouldn’t even be sitting here right now.”
Raishan grinned. “Who could have possibly thought that we’d end up feeling so fortunate that Seldon’s on our force?”
Kara heaved a sigh. She knew they understood what she meant, even if they chose to maintain this light tone, instead of focusing on the graveness of what they had all lived through. Perhaps she too should take this conversation just a little bit less seriously.
She smiled. “I am just so glad to see you all alive.” And this was the truth, the only one that mattered.
Sunset approached too fast, the biting chill of the mountain wind stripping away the daytime desert heat. The warriors departed in small groups, mounted and on foot, making way to their base camp. Kara felt a new wave of worry as she watched the preparations. Was Mai strong enough to travel yet? Were the rest of the warriors going to recover fully? She used a moment when Mai and Raishan drifted into a conversation to slip off, looking for Egey Bashi.
