Reisil dug a hole and built a tiny fire. She set a pot over it and made a hearty soup of roots and dried meat, crumbling into it stale acorn cakes. “I can’t wait to eat some real bread,” Reisil said to Yohuac, who sat shivering beneath both their blankets. “And hot kohv. With nussa spice.”
“The bread I would like. But you may keep your kohv,” he said, accepting the cup of soup and wrapping both his hands around it.
“That’s right. You like that other stuff—what do you call it?”
“Xochil. It has . . . character.”
“Mmm. I don’t much care if my kohv has character.”
“Your kohv is like—it’s like the sun without heat, with fire. Xochil lights fire to the soul.”
“Sounds unsettling.”
“Someday you will try it and see.”
Reisil finished eating and scooted over next to him, curling close against his side. He put an arm around her shoulders and snuggled the blankets around her. Soon their shared warmth permeated them both. Yohuac’s hands began to slide over her. Reisil caught them.
“You’re too tired. This week of running has undone much of your healing.”
Yohuac’s dark eyes were like polished onyx. “I am well enough for this.” He bent and kissed her. Reisil kissed him back. She pushed aside his clothing, grappling him close against her, his heart beating rapidly beneath her fingers. There was an urgency to their lovemaking. They hadn’t lain together since Tapit had sent them fleeing; neither knew when they would have the chance again.
Time was running out.
Reisil nestled against Yohuac’s side, their legs tangled together. His chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm. She stared up at the branches overhead. Time was running out, and she still had no solution to Mysane Kosk. She hadn’t even thought about it since escaping the wizards.
She sighed and sat up, tucking the blankets around Yohuac and pulling her clothes on. She crawled out from under the drooping branches of the great pine, needing to be out under the sky. The rain had settled into a soft drizzle. Mist wound through the trees. The pungent scent of pine, spruce and cedar filled her nose as she drew a cleansing breath. She closed her eyes, listening to the patter of the rain on the trees, the rush of the wind through the treetops, and the trickle of water across the ground.
She wondered if Tapit had caught his mare yet, and if he’d chosen to take shelter. Was he already pursuing them again? Her stomach tightened and she scanned the woods around her. Nothing. She turned and climbed up the slope to the top of the ridge. There was nothing to see. The mist filled the hollows and valleys in softly glowing gauze. Gray hid the stars. She sat down on a boulder, unmindful of the rain soaking her clothes.
What good is thinking about it if I can’t figure out what to do? she thought to herself, and then flushed. So do nothing? That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever come up with. You know better. Ignoring it won’t make it go away. Things will only get worse. That’s one of the first rules of healing.
She rubbed her aching forehead and thought of her predicament. The biggest problem is Mysane Kosk. Its magic is still fueling the plague and killing Yohuac’s land. The nokulas inside used to be people and animals and so I can’t kill them, even though they are killing the rest of the people I’m supposed to protect. The wizards want to draw power from it, as no doubt do the Scallacian sorcerers, which hurts the nokulas. The Regent Aare wants to start a war with Patverseme again and he hates the ahalad-kaaslane, and they all hate me. I somehow have to stop the plague without killing the nokulas or destroying Mysane Kosk, or else the world will be unmade. Plus I have to figure out how to fix Yohuac’s world—oh, and also stop the war. She sighed. “And do it all without the help of the ahalad-kaaslane, who will probably be fighting against me.”
“Sounds easy enough. When do we start?”
Reisil jumped, magic sparking from her fingers. She glared at Yohuac, who had stepped out of the mist to perch beside her. “Scaring me to death isn’t going to help.” She frowned. “You shouldn’t be out in the rain. You need rest. Why aren’t you asleep?”
He reached out and gently curled a long, damp tendril of her hair around his fingers. Reisil leaned into his touch. “You need rest as well. And I do not sleep well apart from you.”
“I don’t think I’m going to sleep well for a long time to come,” Reisil said. She stood. “Come on. You need to get dry.”
Under the traveler’s pine, she rekindled the fire and made more soup. While it cooked, she and Yohuac stripped and dressed in dry clothing from their packs. This time Reisil sat opposite Yohuac to avoid temptation. She wrapped her arms around her legs, fixing her gaze on him. Her heart ached at the weariness that made his shoulders droop and dulled the fire in his eyes. Worse were the scars that marked him from head to foot. She hardened herself.
Throughout the five weeks since their escape from the wizards, she’d been content to drift from moment to moment, speaking little, thinking even less. It had been a time of healing, a chance to rebuild their strength. But Tapit’s arrival had shattered their idyll and it was time to get back to work.
“Tell me about your magic. What you can do.”
Yohuac’s head jerked up, his expression shuttering. The soup bubbled and sizzled as drops spattered into the fire. Reisil rescued the pot and served them both. When each had scraped the bottom of the bowl, Reisil turned her attention back to Yohuac. He sat up straight, crossing his legs and lacing his fingers together. His mouth was pinched and his eyes looked haunted.
“Understand that I was never supposed to use my magic. I was meant to be a vessel—to win the pahtia and become Ilhuicatl’s son-in-the-flesh. In the year of celebration that would follow, every woman in Cemanahuatl would come to my bed. On each I would get a child. Even barren women. In this way, the nahuallis thought to revive the magic in the blood of our people.”
“You were to be their stud?” Reisil asked, smiling.
He shook his head. “Not were. I am to be their stud.” He flushed, avoiding her disbelieving gaze. “For many hundreds of years, magic has been dwindling amongst the nahuallis. There have been fewer and fewer of them, and each generation commands less power. It’s been a slow, gradual diminishing. The nahuallis could find no cause and no way to stop the decline or rejuvenate their power. They feared what would happen to our people when we no longer had magic to guide and guard us.”
“So they decided to breed power into a man and cross their fingers that he win the pahtia and impregnate the entire female population,” Reisil said sardonically. “Your nahuallis are gamblers.”
“It is highly unlikely we’ll succeed. More so now that I am here and the pahtia will begin in less than a year. I have been severely drained by my stay with the wizards, while my competitors continue to develop their skills and strength. Still it is our only hope, and—” He broke off, his cheeks blushing hotter. “The need to renew the magic of Cemanahuatl has only become greater with the terrible destruction caused by your Mysane Kosk,” he added finally.
“You’re telling me you use your magic to gain an advantage in the pahtia,” Reisil said, understanding clicking like a key in a lock. “That’s why you’re willing to use it, even though it’s forbidden.”
“That is so. I . . . cheat.”
Reisil snorted. “Hardly.”
Yohuac looked askance, his eyes widening. “How can you say that? No other man can claim magical powers. I have an unfair advantage.”
“Over some, maybe. You said yourself, you aren’t the only man bred to have magic. But even if there weren’t others, what difference does it make? Would you hesitate to use your advantage if it was bigger muscles or greater intelligence or sharper weapons? No, you’re using what the gods gave you—sure, the nahuallis helped, but they can’t do anything the gods don’t really want them to, now can they?” Reisil thought of the wizards and the way they tortured their prisoners. What gods wanted them to do that?
For a fleeting moment she remembered that da
y in Veneston, the first time she’d seen plague victims. Sodur had lectured her about the old gods. All were vicious, blood-thirsty monsters, full of rage. When the Demonlord had restricted the wizards’s magic, had they turned elsewhere? To a less fastidious god? She shuddered. Of course they had. She thrust away the thought.
“And even if it is cheating, you’d have to do it anyway. Because this isn’t a game anymore to decide who is going to rule for a few decades. This is the survival of your land, of mine. And if it takes cheating, lying, stealing and murder, that’s what you—what we—have to do.”
Yohuac stared at her, poleaxed. His throat worked and his mouth opened, but he made no sounds.
Reisil waved her hand dismissively. “All right. Leave that aside for now. So in a nutshell, only women are permitted to use magic, but no women are allowed to compete in the pahtia, so no woman could become Ilhuicatl’s son-in-the-flesh. And besides, a woman couldn’t very well impregnate the rest of the female population. They needed a man with magic. You, or someone like you. But why in the Lady’s name risk it all to send you here?”
“If I do not return, then they have given their greatest possession, the fruit of years of planning and sacrifice. The Teotl will know what they have given up and will smile favorably on them.” He paused, his brow creasing. “I have long been the strongest competitor. But it is possible another with magic will succeed in my place Especially if he . . . cheats.” He brightened, startling Reisil. “I hope so, for if I cannot return, or if I am in no shape to compete—it would be well to believe the nahuallis had good options.
“The silver lining,” Reisil drawled. “This is all interesting to know, but it doesn’t answer the question—what can you do?”
Yohuac stared into the fire a long moment and then sighed unhappily. He lifted his hand and held it out over the ground, palm down. After a moment, bits of dirt rose in the air and began to rotate slowly. Their speed increased and more dirt rose. Soon a small tornado whirled beneath Yohuac’s hand. Reisil could feel the pull of the funnel. The fire flamed higher and then guttered as the spinning dirt pulled the air into itself. Reisil felt the pressure on her lungs and began to breathe in short, sharp gasps. Dark spots clouded her vision as pine needles, grit and pebbles stung her face and hands.
“Yohuac, stop!” she cried.
He looked up at her, his eyes shocked and fearful. Blood trickled down his cheeks and forehead where he’d been struck by flying debris. He couldn’t stop. By the Lady, he couldn’t stop!
Reisil rolled up onto her knees, hearing her heart pounding in her ears. Her throat was raw and her nose was choked with dirt. She reached for her magic. It filled her raw channels in a flood of pain. She ignored it, feeling the ground beneath her knees beginning to undulate as the great pine that housed them began to uproot itself.
She loosed her magic. It surrounded Yohuac and the maelstrom, wrapping them in a ball like silk and white diamonds. She could have just siphoned off his renegade magic; it was the first skill Kvepi Debess had taught her. But to do so would devastate Yohuac, if not kill him altogether.
Reisil bore down carefully, pushing his magic back inside him. She felt his panic as he grappled for control. His magic was stronger than she expected. He is what he was bred to be, she reminded herself. The seed of the nahualli magic. Of course he’s powerful. And they didn’t bother training him. Idiots. Being this close to Mysane Kosk doesn’t help either.
Yohuac strained against his power. Reisil felt him hauling it back as she shoved. Debris rained down on the ground as he closed himself off from his magic. Yohuac keeled over on his side, panting. Reisil sucked in a deep breath and then another, feeling her spinning head beginning to steady. She crawled over to Yohuac, wrapping the blanket around his clammy length.
“So you can move the earth. I thought that was just in bed,” she said hoarsely.
He grinned weakly and coughed, then slid his arms around her. “You should see what I can do with wind.”
“Well it’s something to work with anyway. The two of us against the nokulas, the wizards and the sorcerers. Should be interesting. Seems we both have a knack for destruction.”
“Don’t forget the nahualli—Nurema. And your friends. They are very resourceful.”
“They’ll have to be. They’re going to stop the Regent’s army.”
Reisil clambered to her feet, banking the fire. “I’ll keep first watch.”
“Don’t forget to wake me. You need to rest as much as I.” Yohuac waited until she sighed and nodded before closing his eyes. Reisil donned her cloak and crawled out from under the tree. She took up a position a short distance away beneath a narrow ledge.
The mist grew thicker, even as the rain pelted harder. Soon it was difficult to see more than a few yards. Nor could she hear anything but the rushing wind and the rattling water.
Her eyes grew heavy and she knuckled them, watching the mist slide in and out of the trees. She stiffened and blinked the rain from her lashes as a shape shivered into being before her.
Its eyes were silver and curved like a bowl and face was heavy-boned with jutting jaws and dagger teeth. Its body was muscular, fluid and sleek—like a lion. Its fingers moved like tentacles and were tipped with thick, tearing claws. Its feet were bony and long, with talons that curved like scythes and bit gouges in the dirt. A long tail twitched slowly back and forth behind it.
Reisil stared up at it in horror, too stunned even to reach for her magic.
Nothing remained of the man he’d been. His expression was alien, his body monstrous. Still she recognized him.
“Sodur,” she whispered past the hard lump lodged in her throat. “By the Lady, it’s you.”
Path of Honor Page 44
