by Rin Chupeco
I closed my eyes. I had expected the creature to avoid me like it had in the past, but this time the creature’s slow advance into my own head was curious, not angry or threatened. It crept out to where I was waiting, almost childish in its naivety. That should have been my first clue that something was wrong—it was far too complacent when it had done its best to avoid me previously.
Instead, I closed my eyes and drew in the Dark, feeling the energy wrap possessively around me, waiting for me to give the order to strike. And when I did, it burrowed into the dark waters, into the monster’s underwater lair, wrapping the weaves of my magic around the creature’s will.
“Rise,” I commanded, and I felt the world rise with me—and the most horrible pain I’d ever felt in my life exploded through my body as a new presence reared up from behind the azi and attacked my thoughts. It was more painful than the torrent of magic Lady Mykaela had unleashed at my first daeva raising, and I dropped to my knees. My tongue tasted something metallic, blood dripped out of my nose, and the roaring in my ears intensified.
“Tea!” I heard Fox shout from somewhere behind me, heard the splashing of water. I couldn’t breathe. Stunned, I fought for control, but a new and sudden presence in my mind was quick to overwhelm me until nothing but blissful darkness remained.
It took her a few hours to pull herself together, but she appeared well again at its end. “It took more strength than I expected it to,” she assured me. “I have taken back control. I am fine. The last daeva should be easy enough.”
I did not share in her confidence. It occurred to me that should controlling all seven daeva be too much for her, the beasts could have turned on us despite their current docility. I broke out into sweat at the thought.
She dismissed my fears. “This last one is different. I have shared in its thoughts, have been in its head longer than I have done with the others. It knows me as well as it knows anyone.”
“The azi,” I said.
She rose to her feet and removed the cork from the last vial she had. The liquid sloshed inside.
“The azi,” she agreed and, raising the bottle to her lips, drained it completely.
The girl closed her eyes.
Underneath us, the ground shuddered.
She screamed.
She was on the ground, writhing again. Her fingers dug into the sand, blood flowing from her lips where she had bitten them. I rushed to her, but she had the presence of mind to raise a hand in warning. “Keep away from me,” she rasped.
The pin on my shirt glittered wildly in response.
“I cannot leave you like this,” I persisted, tearing off a wad of my shirt and pushing the rolled-up cloth between her lips. Before I could do more, I was lifted by some unseen hand and sent sprawling.
The girl clutched at her head, and her daeva shared her pain. They howled and stamped their feet. For a moment, I feared that she had lost control of them.
“I. Will. Not.”
A surge of energy sent me stumbling back. For a moment, the girl was shrouded in a mist of darkness that obscured all in its way. Shadows weaved in and out of the fog, grappling with other unseen things. The daeva roared.
Just as suddenly, the mist was whisked away, sucked in by some vortex at its center, where the girl had knelt. I saw her heartsglass, dead as the night and black as the void, greedily taking in all the vapors, making them disappear into its depths.
An eternity must have passed before she stepped out from the black mist. She was smiling, all traces of pain gone from her face. Behind her, something grotesque and terrifying loomed—a black shape from which three long necks rose.
29
I was looking down at the body from somewhere up above. It was not moving. It stared back at me with its eyes wide open, mouth slightly agape. There was surprise still stamped across its features, which looked strangely familiar. I saw a human male on his knees by the body’s side, movements frantic. I didn’t know if the body was alive or if it was dead, only that it didn’t matter.
Hate spilled into the air around me, and I reveled in the rage. Wings beat against the wind on either side of me, and I realized they were mine. These were my talons raking through the waters. These were my fangs, snapping at the spray. I had a pair of wings and two pairs of forearms that ended in claws, a long tail whipping out behind me, and three heads. There was something wrong with this, but I couldn’t understand why.
I was also screaming, the sound louder than anything I had ever heard. I was screaming at the humans below me, the bad things who had come to harm me.
I would not let them harm me.
I would kill them.
One of them threw fire, but I barely felt it. I lashed out with my tail, and they scattered. I tried again and caught one in the leg. It fell, and I moved for the final kill. But another surrounded me with invisible winds that cut and stabbed at my skin, and I turned to confront it. The pain was like small pinpricks in my mind, easily brushed aside. I snarled and struck the ground, and they lost their balance, tumbling. I heard a horse shriek in fright, heard more wailing from below.
A sudden need to take flight seized me, and I lifted my massive wings. Still howling, I clawed at the sky with my talons, basking in the dark of the night and the cold wind caressing my scales. I wanted to leave, to soar among the endless clouds and drift away to some place safer, where things did not prick at me with sharp edges.
No, something told me. We are not yet done. I felt the message nudging at my thoughts, and with much regret, I submitted to its wisdom. My wings curled back, and I landed a short distance from where I rose, hissing.
The small, frail body on the ground was gone; one of them had dragged it away to a place I could not see. Now the male was back, hacking at my tail with a weapon, a metal clang against the ivory of my bone. One of my heads bent swiftly, and I snatched it up by its middle. My teeth sank into it, and I exulted at the taste of its blood.
But then a new pain started, a sudden blooming against my skull the instant I had bitten the human. For a few brief moments, there was something else in my head, screaming at me to stop.
No! I dropped the human and thrashed, my other heads bellowing back at me, incensed by my hesitance. The male I had abandoned staggered back to its feet and snatched up its weapon again. But rather than confront me one more time, it turned on itself, stabbing its sharpness into one arm.
The hurt returned, more intense than before. The pain wasn’t mine—not exactly; it felt like someone else was in pain and I had access to their thoughts.
Something was wrong.
The human speared itself again, this time in the leg. The pain doubled, a red haze across my vision.
Listen to me! The words came from somewhere outside my mind, but I felt the message pressing into my head, demanding entry. I do not know who the voice belonged to, but every time the human harmed himself, I could feel its agony. Listen to me! They were not my words. They were not my thoughts. Something was compelling me to submit, but I did not want to.
Listen to me!
No! The jolt of pain that ran through me cleared my mind enough for me to understand, and I fired back at the unfamiliar presence with a scream of my own.
No! I won’t listen!
I felt the presence rear back, the surprise and fury filtering into the beast’s mind that we both occupied. With one last effort, I broke through my curtain of hurt and remembered.
I do not have wings and claws and a tail. I do not have three heads that hiss and war with each other. I am not a daeva. I am not a dragon. I am a girl. My name is Tea.
I am not a daeva. I am not a dragon. I am a girl, and I have a name. My name—
One of the other heads, impatient at my resistance, moved to strike on its own, hurtling back toward the male with jaws stretched open.
My name is Tea!
My teeth sank into
my fellow creature’s neck. It screamed in terror, stunned by this betrayal as blood flowed freely from the wound. I struck again, and the second head turned to defend its brother, distracted from the humans beneath us.
No!
I attacked again but this time with the force of my mind. The head reeled back, uncertain at first, and then attempted another assault. I stormed into its head, and it paused in midstrike.
Obey!
It resisted, whipping its head back and forth like this could somehow stem the tide of my invasion. I did not stop.
Obey!
I felt us stagger back, felt the frantic attempt of the third head, still grievously wounded, to muster another counterattack, but I dodged its flimsy bites, beating it on the side of its neck using my own dragon’s head as a battering ram.
Obey!
And then I felt a second awareness inside the second head behind the creature’s consciousness, a panicked struggle to wrest control of the creature away from me. Occupied in the same grotesque body, I shared its thoughts. It felt scared and agitated. It was furious and in pain.
It felt human.
Obey.
I took advantage of its confusion and sank into the second creature’s mind, cutting away all the strings that other awareness had in place, and I felt him scream as his spell crumbled. I tumbled into the second head’s mind, overwhelming its desires and finally finding dominion.
To look out at the world with two heads and two minds while maintaining three was disorienting at first, but it also felt like the most natural thing in the world. I looked down and saw the humans—my friends, I thought—looking fearfully back up at me. I saw Kalen raise his hand, a ball of Fire scorching at his palm, saw Polaire stop him, shaking her head. I keened loudly, the emotion of the words I could not say spilling out into that loud sound. I explored and felt Fox and Chief in my head again, wondered how this would feel on their end. My horse was no longer skittish. True to its pedigree, it looked up at me, trusting. Fox was also looking up at me, and his concern and worry shone through our bond.
“Tea?” he questioned.
The three-headed beast gazed down at him and sighed its affirmation.
The other awareness had retreated into the third head, but I could still feel it within the creature, curled in a small ball and trying its best to remain hidden while it licked at its wounds. I punched into its thoughts, felt its fear—its mind felt strongly of soap and marsh water, bitter and root. I formed my own thoughts into a knife, the edges supple and sharp, and plunged it through the strange consciousness. I felt it claw and scream—and then felt it dissipate. Only I remained—and the creature along with me.
Feeling one less burden lifting from its mind, the beast tried to resist again. Keep still, I ordered, and it paused. Now in command of all its heads, I guided all three to the ground.
“She did it!” Polaire rejoiced, laughing out loud. “Tea actually did it!”
Kalen was more wary, creeping forward with his sword drawn. Fox was quicker, approaching me/the creature despite wounds that should have been fatal on anyone else. “Are you there, Tea?” He laid a hand atop the middle creature’s head.
The azi/I turned and nuzzled at his hand.
“How did you know?” Zoya asked him. “How did you know it would feel your injuries?”
“I didn’t,” my brother said. “I don’t feel it myself, and Tea’s never felt it on her end either…but I sensed that something else inside the dragon had access to her mind. When the dragon bit me, I felt it screaming in response. It could enter Tea’s thoughts, but it wasn’t exempted from the pain.”
“Provide me with a full account later. Althy might be interested in investigating this further.”
“She must kill it quickly,” Kalen said. “Before she loses control.”
My mind rebelled at such a proposal. Without the malignant awareness to guide us, we were compliant and docile, almost benign. We did not want to kill the humans; we only wanted to be left alone…
“He’s right, Tea,” Polaire said to us. “It’s the only way to ensure this does not happen again.”
“Tea?” Fox’s hand felt warm and solid against our skin.
We nudged at him one last time and stood, rising to our full height, wings expanding. Kalen hefted his blade, but we turned away with one last despairing cry, heading into the waters of the lake. We waded deeper, not stopping until the waters closed over our heads until the mud and the dark hid us from view of those waiting by the shore.
The only disturbance along the lake after that was a sudden agitation underneath the surface, huge bubbles rising up to the surface for an extended period of time, only to taper off and fade from view, leaving the waters as clear and as pristine as when we had first arrived.
And I opened my eyes and sputtered. Fox was beside me within moments, placing my head on his lap. The Heartforger’s stone around my neck was still glowing.
“Are you OK, Tea? Tea?”
“I am here,” I rasped. It was an unsettling feeling, wanting to cough out the bilge water in your lungs when there was none there to begin with. “My leg hurts. You stink.”
“So do you.” Fox was laughing, and the sound warmed my heart. He scooped me up into his arms despite my protests. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“Are you OK?” Polaire ran to us as we approached, closing the distance.
“Yes. Thanks partly to this, I think.” I touched the stone.
“What happened to the azi?”
“Gone.” It was still hard to talk, my throat sore. “It won’t bother us anymore.”
“I thought we’d lost you.” It took me a second to realize that as happy as Polaire was, she had also been crying, tears staining her face and ruining her rouge. “You cannot do that to us again, girl! Do you know what it did to me, thinking that you were dead?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry isn’t good enough! I should have listened to Parmina—almost—after the scare you put us through! I don’t know whether to hug you or spank you!” Polaire did the former, throwing her arms around me, and I breathed in her welcoming scent of spice and lavender, trying to rid myself of the putrid memories of my ordeal. Fox gently pulled us apart and set to work bandaging my thigh, the wound I’d suffered there.
Kalen nodded at me, a shade less hostile. His fellow Deathseekers whooped and cheered, staring at me with awe.
I smiled wanly back, forced myself to speak again. “Like Fox said, there was someone else in the dragon’s mind. It was—trying to control it.”
“A Faceless,” Polaire surmised grimly, her arms still locked around me. “We must track him down at whatever cost. He killed the Deathseekers, tried to kill us, and very nearly killed you. He has to pay for everything he’s done, and I want to be one of those holding the knife.”
“You don’t need to,” I murmured into her ear, my voice soft enough so the others couldn’t hear. My voice felt weaker, and it hurt to get any more words out, but I managed somehow. “I know who it is.”
The girl laughed as the azi’s three heads vied against each other for the right to be petted, sampling the air with their forked tongues.
“It is good to see you again,” she murmured. She still looked tired, but she appeared to gain strength with every second that passed.
All the world would tremble to see such a sight, I knew—the Dark asha on the shore and the seven daeva she wielded. They were enough to break the land. They were enough to break crowns. How must Hollow Knife have felt when he created such monsters? How must the followers of Blade that Soars have felt to turn and see such horrors at their kingdoms’ borders?
The girl turned. The daeva’s eyes followed her movements.
“We leave for Daanoris at dawn,” she said.
30
The Willows had finally succumbed to the quiet. Nothing
moved, save for the clouds rolling above the asha-ka, across the evening sky. After all the celebrations and all the joy that greeted our arrival, I welcomed the solitude.
Fortunately, Polaire had been insistent, demanding time for me to fully recuperate, and so the jubilation around the Valerian was muted. Mistress Parmina had been ecstatic—no doubt my price would quadruple. Rahim nearly suffocated me in his bear hugs; Likh’s and Chesh’s were less punishing. Lady Mykaela’s happiness was more subdued, her relief more palpable. She said nothing, only hugged me as Polaire had. Her tears came unbidden, staining her bedsheets, and I, worn and fatigued, cried along with her.
The Valerian household was in disarray. Kana was sick, and Farhi had her hands full trying to get errands done when there were crowds of people packing the streets along the asha-ka. These were not normal visitors to the Willows; these were people not only from Kion, but from nearby kingdoms like Odalia and Daanoris and the city-states of Yadosha, some even as far away as Istera and Drycht—all hoping to catch a glimpse of me. After two days, Mistress Parmina had had enough and enlisted the help of many Deathseekers to clear the roads of people. The revelers were persuaded to take their reveling elsewhere, and for the first time in three days, the streets stood serene and empty, while in other places of Ankyo, the people celebrated.
I made a full recovery after only a night’s worth of sleep, though Fox was adamant about letting me rest for a week more, because of the wound on my thigh. Normally I would have lodged a protest, but this time, I agreed with him. Staying at the Valerian would give me a good opportunity to keep an eye on Farhi without attracting any suspicion, and Lady Mykaela was also on hand to ensure nothing went wrong.
Khalad also paid me a visit, using the opportunity to carefully extract my memories of the fight with the azi. “The Forger isn’t in Kion,” he said. “After all the excitement, he thought he’d go and see for himself. New, rarer memories to harvest.”
