by J. F. Lewis
Cadence can’t use her Far Flame trick like she did in the tunnels, M’jynn thought. She’s still too weak.
What trick? Rae’en thought at all of them. I knew she had certain abilities, but other than setting Dad on fire at one point . . .
I may, Kazan thought, have left some things out when I mentioned we were having a little trouble earlier.
Such as?
Kazan told her.
Bloodmane, Rae’en thought directly to her armor, leaving Kazan out of the loop, see if Eyes of Vengeance minds heading out there to meet my Prime Overwatch and get him back here before he omits himself or my other Overwatches into an early grave.
He would be delighted, kholster, Bloodmane’s thoughts boomed. Eyes declined to ask, but I know he has wanted an excuse to go and retrieve his rightful occupant for some time.
Good, Rae’en smiled. Tell him to take ten other warsuits with him, will you? I don’t want any of you running off by yourselves in case there are any Zaur or Sri’Zaur still out there with shards of the Life Forge who haven’t heard about the temporary cessation of hostilities.
Of course.
I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, Rae’en, Kazan thought, but how could we have known we’d be heading into so much trouble?
Trouble.
Unknown trouble.
Zaur.
Dead.
And something else. Rae’en’s head hurt all of a sudden, and she could not tell exactly why, but some idea was there, like the answer to a puzzle to which she stood too close. But with just a little more perspective she felt like it could all come into focus and . . .
Kholster Rae’en? Arbokk asked.
Everyone be quiet a moment! Rae’en thought. Except you, Bloodmane. Can you play back a conversation? Not the memory, but just the words?
Kholster never asked me to do so . . . I believe I can, but do you not remember it all?
I can relive it and remember it all of a piece, but I can’t let myself caught up in all the other distractions going on.
I understand that gets easier with age and experience. Very well, but from when?
Just pick a moment. About an hour back, the whole conversation we’ve been having, but without the distractions. Just give me the words.
Bloodmane did so.
Bird squirt! When Bloodmane got to Joose’s statement, the one about there probably being more Eldrennai out there, it all clicked in Rae’en’s mind. The dead left Port Ammond heading north, right?
Yes, Kazan thought. Zhan and the rest of the Ossuary are being more quiet than usual, but Keeper and the other warsuits are relaying their data and positions. They are still trailing a large group of them north right now.
Bones in the wind, you know? He waited for a beat, but Rae’en was silent, still processing. Oh, and a message just came in from Silver Leaf City, Queen Kari is requesting that we not engage any Zaur we don’t have to, but given what Lieutenant Ella and Commander Brazz have relayed, it tracks. I guess she sent the messenger before we met up with them.
Silver Leaf? Rae’en stopped pacing, the flow of workers continuing around her. When did this happen?
A messenger came into Silver Leaf and told one of the hunters we sent out that way.
The same one we’ve heard from before? Rae’en asked.
An image of the Flower Girl in question appeared in Rae’en’s mind map. Beautiful, like all Vael, but something about the way she pruned her evergreen head petals, the set of her jaw, and the way she held herself forced Rae’en to think of her as more than a mere Flower Girl.
From what we overheard, the messenger was Liv, Kazan thought at her, even as the image faded to be replaced by the relevant area on her mind map.
Or an evergreen who fits her description, Arbokk added. She could fight, whoever she was.
The hunter reported it to the human called Michael when she came back in with the load of venison, M’jynn explained. I’m sure it will be relayed to you directly once it reaches high enough up in the Aiannai command chain, but Ambush overheard them and reported the information immediately.
More detail than I wanted, Rae’en thought, but thanks.
The group that left the ruins of Port Ammond are still heading for the mountains, Bloodmane thought. Coal is with them.
Yes, Rae’en thought, I know, but I don’t think Zhan knows exactly where the dead are heading, and he might need to know.
Where are they heading? Bloodmane and Kazan thought at the same time.
Rae’en felt the suppressed thrill of realization from Amber and gave her the mental nod to go ahead and one up her fellows.
To North Watch, Amber thought. Any survivors they can kill or who died already and were buried in the rubble—
Become reinforcements, Kazan thought. Bird squirt indeed.
*
Zhan, Rae’en called in his mind. Where are you?
He saw no need to respond. Clearly she already knew the answer to her question, was disturbed by the knowledge, and wanted an explanation. Even if that were not the case, the way she continued to act as if the Ossuary were within her chain of command was . . . irksome. In Kholster, the tendency had been understandable, even endearing in moderation, but in Rae’en—
“Bloodmane is reaching out to Bone Harvest,” Alysaundra called to him. “Should I . . . ?”
Zhan ran on, frozen grass crunching under his boots where it had not already been trodden down by the army of dead reptiles traveling farther ahead of him. A day ahead of him now? Two days if the corpse of Coal kept ranging ahead of the main group. Zhan could not know yet, but that felt right based on the strength of the bone metal he felt drawing him on. He kept running for two candlemarks before answering, impressed with Alysaundra for not rushing him or offering nervous prompts as if he might have forgotten or not heard.
Of the twelve Bone Finders who ran with him, Alysaundra was his favorite and, though he possessed no true offspring and considered all Ossuarians to be his children after a fashion, Zhan considered her his replacement should he for some unknown reason depart Barrone. Kholster’s obsession with a Freeborn successor made sense, after a fashion, for the Aernese Army, but the Ossuary and its members could never be free in the same way.
“Should you?” he echoed.
“Which is a ‘no,’” Alysaundra said with a smirk. “She’s really gotten under your armor, hasn’t she?”
“No Aern can get under my armor.” At the words, Zhan felt the lie in them, the memory of clashing warpicks with Kholster after the Sundering. The memory burned, not because Kholster had bested him, but—
“Has she requested information from you? First of One Hundred to Last?” Alysaundra asked.
“She called my name and asked me the answer to a question she does not need answered.” Zhan felt the tug of the piece of Glayne’s bone metal change direction slightly and altered course to follow. “None of this concerns the Ossuarians or me personally.”
“I see.”
“You disapprove?” Zhan tried to shake off the memory of Kholster’s hand in his as the First of One Hundred helped the Last of One Hundred up from the ground where he’d lain in a pool of anemic orange-colored blood. The lasting injury came from the words, not the wound.
“Not my place to disagree with the Ossuarian,” Alysaundra said.
A verbal barb. Letting Keeper take control of his forward momentum, Zhan played back the last few days in his mind, examining his thoughts, actions, and assumptions. While not strictly in error at any point, his behavior stood out as a non-inconsequential contributor to the divide he felt growing between the army and the Ossuary.
Do not make me question the loyalty of the Ossuary again, Zhan. Kholster’s centuries-old words burned like faint embers under the ash, unfelt for so long until the right sort of wind spurred them to a bright orange heat that could start the world ablaze.
You are leaving the bones behind! Zhan’s heart pounded. My skin behind! My—
In exchange for our unborn
, Kholster had said.
Your unborn, Zhan had said in return. Not mine!
I am truly sorry, Kholster had said, and those words had meant nothing, but the look in Kholster’s eyes, the real hurt, sorrow, and regret, the lines around those ageless eyes . . . They had kept the peace.
Do not ask me to abandon bones again, Zhan had said, the whole conversation happening in their minds, unheard by any other Aern as far as Zhan knew.
You have my oath on it, Kholster had said. And that too had softened the blow, but now, even though the bones had been reclaimed, Kholster had used them to reinforce Fort Sunder. Was it glorious? Yes. As a god, could Kholster do whatever he wanted? Zhan supposed that was how the gods worked, but the bone metal belonged in the Ossuary. Each fragment should have been entrusted to him, to his . . . keeping.
Zhan, the reasoning part of him, could even agree with the benefits of plating Fort Sunder with the bone-steel at hand, but it was not what he would have done were the decision his. It forced Zhan’s hand; an Ossuarian presence would now always be required north of Castleguard. On the other track, so what, then? The army had always decided where to go and what to do without consulting the Ossuarians, but having Kholster do so and having this young—
Is it her youth that galls me so? Do I have a preferred candidate? Do I, or some part of me, believe I would be better suited to lead the army? Zhan puzzled over the thought.
No, that wasn’t it. Structural compatibility did not ensure functional compatibility. Could he send an All Know? Only to Bone Finders. Could this be circumvented with warsuits? Not perfectly. Could the army adapt? Certainly. Aern were Aern, but should they need to adapt?
No. Not unless they became deprived of a First of One Hundred and, for some reason, the First failed to pass on her unique properties to a successor . . . an eventuality Zhan would go through any lengths, even the destruction of himself and every last Ossuarian, to prevent. So what was the problem? Why allow himself to drive a rift between Last and First? Was it truly about the bones? Or was it deeper than that?
Sir, Keeper interrupted. The kholster of the Aernese Army would like to speak to the Ossuarian.
Zhan suppressed the instinctive anger he felt, while trying his best to examine it. Was it Rae’en personally? Her lack of experience? Or could her lack of formality, her instinct to ignore the appropriate protocols, be the culprit that wrought such turmoil within him?
Another possibility stung him with its pettiness: Was it merely that she was Kholster’s daughter? Could his anger at the First have blossomed on her back much as had her father’s scars?
Did she phrase it that way, Zhan asked, or have you politely reframed the request?
I asked as she asked, Keeper replied, then, with a hint of pleasure: Snow, sir.
Running on, immune to the unfelt chill he knew must be present, Zhan opened his eyes, taking control back from his warsuit. What was so special about snow? And then Zhan understood, if not himself, then his warsuit; he felt the frozen water through his armor’s senses and tried to open himself to Keeper’s emotion. It was the first snow Keeper had touched or seen with his own eyes in centuries. His anger subsided.
It was nice, the twelve of them running together, a light snow slowly changing the world beneath their feet to a blanket of white. Others were coming; he could feel their bone metal tugging against his own. He’d summoned them. He was going after the bones, his Ossuary with him. What could be wrong? What was worth his wrath?
Sir? Keeper prompted.
I— Zhan took a deep breath, held it, let it out slowly. Very well. Please connect us.
Do we have a problem, Zhan? Rae’en asked.
My command’s whereabouts are mine to determine, First of One Hundred. Zhan kept a polite tone to his thoughts. If the kholster of the Aernese Army objects to—
What are you going on about? Kholster Rae’en’s thoughts felt genuinely puzzled. Which made things worse. How could she fail to understand that the Ossuary—
Is this about my Overwatches using the information from your warsuits? Keeper could have just said something if he would prefer we make only specific requests, but Bloodmane and Eyes of Vengeance told Kazan the Ossuary did not track what information the warsuits bonded to their Ossuarians shared as long as the Aernese Army shared their data as well. Which is all fair hunting to me. Aern help Aern. Or am I not tracking down the right trail?
Zhan released conscious control over his own movements again, Keeper seamlessly assuming the reins of locomotion.
You are not contacting me to ask why I have withdrawn all of my Aern from Fort Sunder? Zhan thought. Why I am not headed to Fort Sunder?
Kazan’s guess was that you wanted reinforcements to go after some of Glayne’s bone metal. Glayne says Coal dropped a portion of one of his soul-bonded knives into his chest, kholster Rae’en sent. I thought grabbing more Armored to fight a dragon and its accompanying army of reptiles who won’t stay dead was a prudent move. If I may be completely open with you, I have been wondering what the protocol is to offer you reinforcements from my kholstering. Apparently asking is without precedent, but I am not my father . . . and since you already seemed to have greens down your gob about something, I didn’t want to risk the possibility you’d feel that I was questioning your ability to kholster.
Kholster Rae’en. Zhan smiled. It did not happen often, and he was pleased no one could see it. Why exactly have you contacted me?
Because we know where the army of the dead you’re chasing is headed and we know why . . . I thought we ought to make sure you knew, Rae’en thought.
And why tell me directly?
Why would I not tell you directly? Rae’en asked. You kholster the Ossuary and I kholster the army. You’re heading with all of your Armored into a fight that is bigger than you could have known. What am I supposed to do, just keep it to myself and hope you figure it out? Act like I’m too important to speak to you and have Kazan do it? From a structural point of view, we’re equals. Right?
Thank you for the information, kholster Rae’en, Zhan thought, and for the offer of assistance. I do not require it at this time, but should the situation change, it is nice to know that I can rely upon your aid.
So we’re all in alignment again? Rae’en asked.
“I believe we are,” Zhan whispered, before transmitting a terse positive acknowledgement. “I believe we are.”
CHAPTER 14
THE DECISION TO TAKE ROOT
Kholburran sat outside the temple of healing, listening to the sounds of injured warriors and the chants of the healers. The canopy of the Twin Root Trees Hashan and Warrune quivered, leaves shaken free falling to the forest floor still green and unblemished. Talk of the warfront filled the air, occupying the thoughts of even the least warlike. The consensus was that the Root Guard and their Zaur allies were winning, but the advance was slowing rather than stopping.
Only a handful of the Sri’Zaur Flamefangs had fallen and risen as enemies of life, but in every case they had started fires that did more damage and required more forces to fight than were readily available. Fire had come close enough to Moss Arbor and Gravid’s Vale that the Root Trees had been within sight of the flames.
War had come to the Parliament of Ages with a ferocity it had not known since the Sundering. When he had been a sproutling, he would have been sure that the Aern would come to save them, yet the Aern were digging in at Fort Sunder and had offered no aid. The contingent of reptiles that had attacked and destroyed Tranduvallu as a sign of the Sri’Zauran empire’s usefulness as allies, with their Zaurruk and fire-spewing Flamefangs that had only days ago loomed as a threat and a promise as sure and unmistakable as Kholster’s warpick suspended above an Eldrennai’s throat, were now the most useful allies the Root Guard and the Vael Defense Forces had to repel the army of the dead.
Any moment now Kholburran expected the Root Guard to come and escort him (forcefully if required) south.
I should be out there fighting, Kholburran thoug
ht. His heartwood warpick could cleave skulls just as easily as any girl-type person’s heartbow.
As a royal boy-type person, however, he was doomed to be viewed as nothing more than a future home for other Vael: a home, a city, providing the raw material for heartbows and growing pretty furniture and decorations within himself. Unable to move or speak of his own accord . . . A glorified germinator to pollinate whichever of the Root Guard or other Vael were deemed worthy to—
Will I even notice? He scratched thoughtlessly at the fang-like thorns protruding from the edges of his upper and lower dental ridges. Catching himself, he stilled the nervous movement, running his fingers through his red head petals instead, scratching the bark beneath. He forced himself to stop that, too.
No one knew exactly how sentient Root Trees were after they grew beyond a certain size. Queen Kari seemed to be able to commune with them in some unclear spiritual-beyond-a-boy-type-person’s-understanding sort of way, but that was a less than fabtacular mental path down which to hunt. She was a Root Wife and not all Root Trees had one. Kholburran thought of Uncle Tranduvallu’s last moments—burning, screaming in a way only other plants could sense, no Root Wife to calm him or ease his pain . . . Utterly alone as his former inhabitants fled for their lives.
Plucking out a head petal, Kholburran crushed it in his fist.
Whether the Root Guard intended to try and make him Take Root earlier than intended haunted his thoughts, too. Images of running away rose in his mind. South to Castleguard and the bridge continent beyond, maybe all the way to the caves the Aern called home, where surely some Lady Aern would let him learn to fight from her, learn all the techniques Arri and the others, even Malli, had not seen fit to . . .
You thought her name, he berated himself, glaring at the temple with a look he was certain must be so blatantly lovelorn that if a girl-type person were to spot him, she would surely laugh at such a foolish display of boy-like hyper-emotionality. Malli is healing well. She’ll mend whether you’re here or not.
