“But Osshi—” I turn, finding him a few feet away. “You found us. How’d you find us?”
“I guided Kazu by stories,” Osshi explains. “Old records describe where the Kaijuko rock fell and how far the ships chased the streak of light to land. It was guesswork, so it took us weeks of sailing to find Shiara. If it was ever on Ryogan maps, the leaders had it expunged a long time ago.”
Lo’a nods. “You found what everyone wanted forgotten.”
“What does this have to do with the Kaisubeh?” I ask tentatively.
“Each of these places have their own beliefs about those the Ryogans call Kaisubeh, but there is one thing all of us agree on.” She places her hand flat on the center of the map. “Humanity may live here, but this world is theirs. We do not know if they created it or if they were simply the first to be born, the eldest children of land and sky. Whichever is true, we know they existed before humans found a way to preserve thoughts in words carved into stone instead of stories passed down through generations.”
“Why does that matter?” Tessen asks.
“Because stone changes slower than a story,” Lo’a says. “Memories are imperfect and time alters perceptions.”
“What do the Ryogans believe, then?” That seems to be what will matter most to us; Varan found immortality by chasing the Kaisubeh.
“You came by boat, so you saw their Zohogasha? The statues along the coast.” When I nod, Lo’a continues. “Ryogans believe in the fourteen Kaisubeh and the countless Kaimashin, the spirits who carry out orders. And they are not the only ones to make that mistake.”
“How’s it a mistake?” I lean closer. “Are you saying they don’t exist?”
“No, the creators, the ones my people call alua’sa liona’ano shilua’a, are very real.” Lo’a glances at Osshi, almost apologetically. His lips press together and he gets up, crossing to where the andofume and Sanii are sitting with Varan’s book between them. From the look that passes between Lo’a and Osshi, I sense they’ve had discussions about the nature of the Kaisubeh before. And I don’t think they found a way to agree on the subject.
Once he’s away, Lo’a lowers her voice and explains. “The Ryogans’ mistake is not in their belief, it is in their personification. They persist in seeing the creators as men and women, as people with the same faults, desires, and foibles humanity is burdened with.”
“What are they, then?” Tessen scoots closer to me, his voice as quiet as ours.
“Beyond our ability to understand,” Lo’a says simply. “They have proven their existence in undeniable ways—like the day the Kaijuko rock fell from the sky—but they do not walk among us. I doubt they want to. Maybe they cannot. There are stories—ones that seem to be as old as the time when the world was one piece—”
“What do you mean ‘one piece’?” The map shows six expansive sections of land surrounded by water. There would be at least seven if Shiara were included.
“Look at the edges.” She draws her finger along the coasts.
“They line up.” The match isn’t perfect, but it’s consistent. It reminds me of how a slab of stone might break if dropped. Putting it back together would be impossible, but it would still be clear where the pieces once fit. “The Kaisubeh did this?”
“The kind of power this would take is…” Tessen exhales heavily. “I can’t imagine it.”
“This, what Ryogans call the schism, happened thousands of years ago, when humanity was in the middle of its most devastating war,” she says, suddenly serious. “You see, the Kaisubeh do act, but only when something or someone threatens not only the lives of humans but the safety and sanctity of the land itself.”
“But they acted against Varan.” I say it slowly, trying to grab hold of the thought rising from the depths of my mind like heatwaves. “So how could his immortality threaten the Kaisubeh or the land?”
“That I cannot tell you. The alua’sa liona’ano shilua’a have never whispered their secrets in my ear before. There is no reason why they would start now.”
“Tell us stories, then, if you don’t know secrets.” I lean against Tessen, studying how the firelight brings out the red in Lo’a’s sandstone skin.
Outside this cave, the storm pours down rain and wind and lightning. Thunder rumbles low and long, sending vibrations through the mountain. It’s easy to forget it all as Lo’a begins to talk. Her voice rises and falls with the natural lilts and pauses of someone used to storytelling.
First, Lo’a gives us the creation tales she only hinted at before, both the ones that claim the Kaisubeh created the world, leaving their mark on every living thing, and the ones claiming the Kaisubeh are the first children of land and sky.
She talks about a land where it’s believed the gods live in every plant, stone, stream, and animal, and she explains why another land is convinced each of the Kaisubeh lives in their own realm and watches over their most devoted worshippers.
There are stories about an afterlife in a place that reminds me of the stories Varan told about Ryogo, but then she explains that some believe we return body and soul to the land and the desosa when we die.
According to her stories, Ryogans once believed in Kaisuama, a mountain in the Mysora range where the Kaisubeh convened to observe their followers, yet today almost everyone in Ryogo insists their gods are everywhere, incorporeal only until they choose to walk the land in human disguise.
It only takes a few stories for me to see why she said explaining the Kaisubeh wouldn’t be easy. No one can agree on anything except that they exist.
We listen to the stories while we eat, but everyone separates after dinner. Rai, Etaro, Sanii, and Natani get their weapons and run drills, patiently working with the students who feel like getting extra practice. Lo’a sits with Tyrroh and Osshi, watching as they talk, probably about supplies and the storm. Our three andofume are preparing what they’ll need to recreate Varan’s susuji. Miari leads Wehli and Nairo into our wagon, and the door closes behind them; no one who doesn’t want to watch the three of them strip down and catch up on all the time alone they’ve missed will dare open it for the next hour or two.
They’re all occupied. And we’re not going anywhere for at least another full day. And there are sections of this cave that offer at least the illusion of privacy. Plus, I haven’t had a calm, quiet moment since well before we left Shiara.
Standing up, I light one of the lanterns and then hold out my hand. “Come with me.”
Tessen looks up, his gaze falling from my eyes to my hand to the cavern entrance.
I shake my head. “Farther in, not out.”
Smiling, he grips my hand and lets me pull him to his feet. “Out of everything I miss from Itagami, it’s having my own room I miss the most.”
“Food. I miss the food. I think I’d kill for a well-cooked piece of teegra right now.” I look over my shoulder at him, smirking. “But privacy is a close second.”
I don’t stop at the first small offshoot cave I find. Or the third. Or the seventh. The light from the fires in the main cavern doesn’t reach this far back, but the sounds do. Picking my way carefully through the mostly even tunnel, I wait until the noise is distant and muffled before turning in to one of the hollows. I set the lantern in the center of the space, gesturing for Tessen to sit against one of the smooth walls. Once he’s settled, I sit in the space between his legs, leaning back against his chest. He wraps his arms around me, pressing soft kisses against my cheek and my neck when I let my head rest on his shoulder. Now, in a quiet moment when I have a good idea of how I want the rest of the night to go for us, I remember what Zonna told me about the yugadai and the changes the hishingu mages made to us. Tonight, I’m almost thankful for it if only because those physical changes remove one more worry from my mind.
“How long do you think we have before everyone comes looking for us?” I ask.
I feel his smile against my throat. “Not long enough.”
Bellows. “I’m tired, Tessen. I’m alread
y tired and we’re nowhere near finished. It all feels impossible.”
“So it feels exactly like it’s been for a while now?”
I smack his thigh. “Don’t joke. I’m serious. What if we can’t find what we need here and have to go back to Shiara with nothing? They’ll be following me into danger I may not be able to protect them from.”
“Do you plan on holding a sword at their throat? Or trapping them in a ward and shoving them onto whatever ship we convince to carry us back to Shiara?”
“Of course not.”
“Then don’t demean their choices.” Tessen brushes his nose against my cheek, up the side of my face until he can kiss my temple. “We don’t expect you to keep us alive no matter what, Khya. Besides, death in this battle will mean something. It’s a sacrifice worth making.”
“Sacrifice.” I snort, unable to suppress the scorn. “For honors in Ryogo?”
“You think Varan invented the afterlife? I don’t,” Tessen says quietly. “You heard Lo’a’s stories. It seems like a lot of what Varan taught us has been more truth than lies.”
“Not Ryogo.” But that isn’t quite true, is it?
“It may not be the afterlife, but almost everything else is true,” he says, almost chidingly. “So, yes—I think there’s an afterlife, and that we can earn a place in it, I just don’t know what it’ll look like when we get there.”
I turn to straddle his lap so I can meet his eyes. “Doesn’t it scare you? Not knowing what’s coming?”
So much of the future is unknown. Bellows, most of the present is unknown. What’s happening to Yorri? Is what we found in the mountains really the key to Varan’s immortality? How will we get back to Shiara? Even if we discover how to kill Varan, how do we get close enough to do it? If we somehow manage to win, what then? Will the clan kill us for destroying the leaders of Itagami, or will they let us stay? If they kill us, what comes after?
“Shh, no. Whatever you’re thinking, stop.” Tessen massages the knots in my shoulder with one hand while the other gently runs over my short hair. “Nothing is certain, so all we can do is make the best possible choices the moment they’re presented.”
“You sound like Ahdo-mas Sotra,” I mutter against his tunic.
“I’ll take that as a compliment. She was always annoyingly wise.”
“And you’re just annoying.”
Tessen chuckles. “You wound me, oh deadly one.”
I trace the straight line of his thick eyebrow with my thumb and then trail my fingers down the sharp slope of his jaw. His eyes close, his breathing quickens, and I smile. Tessen’s skin, a few shades darker brown than mine, is paler than I’m used to seeing it without the exposure to the desert sun, but otherwise I can almost pretend we’re alone in Itagami instead of hiding in a borrowed space in a strange land.
For moons now, Tessen’s put everything I thought he cared about aside. Some things, like the kaigo-sei pendant marking him as a student of the councils, he literally tossed into the ocean.
It’s not just now; he’s been like this for years. It took me a long time to notice. I spent years taking him for granted. I still do. I count on him to simply be there, be ready to offer advice or someone to fight with or whatever else I happen to need in that moment. It’s not fair.
All we can do is make the best choices in the right moment, according to him, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s this: now is all we have.
I gently trace the line of his full bottom lip. “Do you remember what you asked me the day we found the tunnel to Imaku?”
“What?” Tessen forces his eyes open. “I, uhh…asked if you trusted me?”
“I wasn’t sure then, but later, on Kazu’s ship, I said I trusted you.” I kiss the center of his forehead as I draw my nails over his short, black hair. “You didn’t believe me.”
He swallows hard. “I believed you.”
“You didn’t. You thought I might change my mind, which means you didn’t believe me.” I hold his face between my hands. “I don’t blame you, not after how hard I made you fight.”
His mouth opens; his words sit silent on his tongue.
“I told you all you have to do is ask when you need something. Or when you want something.” I kiss the tip of his nose and then nip the lobe of his ear. “I’d hoped you were starting to believe me, but you never ask for anything, Tessen. Don’t you want anything?”
Swallowing so hard all the muscles in his neck strain under his skin, Tessen nods, the motion so small it’s almost unnoticeable.
“But you still don’t know how to ask for it, do you?”
“I—” His eyes are wide and locked, unblinking, on mine, and his heart is beating so fast I can see his pulse pounding at the base of his throat.
Smiling, I lean in and whisper, “Maybe I should try guessing, then.”
I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and pull him across the few inches separating us. At first it’s just lips and hands, brushes of soft skin. Then my tongue teases the corner of his mouth.
Tessen whimpers.
My hands tighten on him, my fingers digging in and my lips sealing against his until he’s not the only one sucking in sharp breaths. When he shivers, I scratch down his arms until I can slide my hands under the sleeves of his tunic and push them up, out of the way. He shudders and sits straighter, pressing his chest against mine as much as he can without dislodging my hands from his arms.
It was just supposed to be a kiss, one just like all the others we’ve had, but for the first time there’s no ruse. No watchers. Nowhere we’ve got to be. For the first time since we left Shiara, we’re alone, but no matter how right I think I am about what he wants, I’m not pushing him into this based on a guess.
“Tell me to stop.” I pull back enough to whisper against his skin.
“Why?” He unties my coat. “That sounds like a horrible idea.”
“I guessed right, then?”
“More than right.” He grips my hips and tugs me closer, closing the space between us. There’s an inviting darkness in his eyes. “You should’ve started guessing a long time ago.”
“You should’ve asked,” I whisper against his throat. But I know it isn’t that simple, and I know he likely won’t any time soon. There will be the mission and the squad and the war, all of it more important than what either of us wants.
Tonight, though? He gives in to me completely and in that moment, I give in to him, too.
Our boots get kicked to the other side of the cave, and our discarded clothes become a thin cushion against the hard, cold stone. He shivers and pulls me on top of him like a blanket when he lays himself back on the cloth.
I grip one of his wrists and pin it to the stone over his head, and then I lightly scratch my nails down the center of his chest, tracing the curves of his muscles and the lines of his numerous scars. He’s breathing deep, and his pupils are blown wide, and yet the sight of him against the stone sparks a memory that makes my hands still. I laugh. “You know, it’s several moon cycles late, but we’re finally exactly where the entire city thought we were when we kept sneaking off.”
“I’m glad they’re finally right.” He runs his free hand up my bare thigh, his touch and his voice shaky, but it’s the wide-eyed disbelief on his face that makes my heart skip a beat. “I hoped, but I wasn’t sure it’d ever happen.”
I sit up straighter, flattening my palm against the center of his chest and watching him. “The way you’re looking at me, it seems like you’re still not sure it’s happening.”
“The good moments have been rare recently.” His hand slides over my hip and presses against the center of my lower back, drawing me down until his lips brush against mine before he whispers, “And this is unbelievably good.”
The tender kiss and the words and the press of his skin is so overwhelming I close my eyes. My skin tingles, the chill in the air fighting the warmth flushing my body and making me feel on fire in the best of ways. If this is what it’s like for me—bello
ws. I’m not sure if I’m envious of what Tessen must be feeling or scared of it.
He told me once that he experiences the world so deeply he’s always one lapse in concentration away from being absolutely overwhelmed. And that’s on a normal day. Now, my every touch seems to shudder through Tessen’s whole body. Even a breath against his skin has him shifting underneath me. When I open my eyes to meet his, they’re glazed. His heart is pounding so hard and fast I can count the beats by the throbbing pulse point in his neck.
More than once, I’ve wanted to back Tessen up against a wall, hold him there, and see how far I could push him. I could do that now. Easily. I could grab his wrists and hold him against the stone and test him until I learned all his little quirks and reactions. It’s what I’ve always done with my partners. I’m good at it, and the expectant tension in his eyes hints that he’s waiting for exactly that.
He stiffens and then goes pliant when I press my chest against his and brush the gentlest of kisses to his lips. Everything else is a battle. We’re struggling for every inch of ground and watching out for enemies from all sides, and I don’t want to do that here. Not now.
I’m still in the lead, still in control so he can sink into the sensations without worrying about anything else, but I keep it slow. Soft. I draw it out and let it build slowly, taking my time because, for now, I have the time to take.
Only in the last moments do I lose my grip on slow and gentle. Tensing and tightening my hold on him, I dig my nails into his skin and cry out loud enough to hear it echo back at me. His fingers dig into my hips hard enough to leave bruises, but the only noise he makes is a long, sharp gasp.
After, when our breathing evens out and the sweat clinging to our skin becomes uncomfortably cold, I pull our clothes out from under Tessen and guide his tremoring, malleable body back into them. If I’m chilled, he must be on the edge of going numb. The layers of cloth help keep the worst of the cold off, but he’ll still be too cold in here, so I straddle him and lie flat against his chest, winding my arms under his shoulders.
Sea of Strangers Page 12
