by Callie Kanno
The false E’rian waved a hand indifferently. “Multiple blood contracts can be in place at once, as long as the terms do not contradict one another. A blood contract with Cha-sak would enable you to do everything you could ever imagine. You could unite humankind and bring peace and prosperity to all.”
The growing suspicion in Adesina’s mind became a certainty. Adesina had learned why this Dream had been forced upon her, and there was nothing else to gain by letting it continue. It was time to put an end to the charade.
Adesina put on an expression of helplessness. “I know you wish to see great things for me, but I just do not believe I can do it. It sounds like something better suited for my sister.”
E’rian’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “Your sister is not you. You were meant to do these things, Adesina, not her.”
Silence.
A ghost of a smile played about Adesina’s lips. “Now, why would my own mother think that I have a sister?”
E’rian blinked in surprise. “What?”
“You are my mother, are you not?” Adesina challenged. “You should know that I do not have a sister.”
Adesina could see the thoughts racing through the imposter’s mind.
“I…assumed that you were referring to one of your close comrades.”
The young queen arched an eyebrow. “Would you not then ask for clarification as to whom I meant?”
The lie had become useless.
A cold smile spread across the face of Adesina’s deceased mother. “Well, are you not just a clever little mortal.”
“Take your true form, Cha-sak,” commanded Adesina. “You do not deserve to bear my mother’s countenance.”
Darkness seeped from the imposter’s skin in roiling wisps. It came thicker and faster until the form of the deceased L’avan woman disappeared entirely. It was difficult to see the demon, due to their black surroundings, but Adesina could see his glowing red eyes shift position as he resumed the height of his true form.
“You were right,” said Adesina, “in saying that I do not know all that there is to know about Dreams. However, it was foolish of you to try and manipulate me through the form of my mother. She would never even consider the things you were suggesting.”
“I may have been deceiving you with my appearance, but the words I spoke were true,” insisted Cha-sak. “If you and I were to become allies, we could bring peace and prosperity to this world.”
Adesina shook her head. “No, the words you spoke were partially true. We may be able to conquer this world, but it would be through bloodshed and suffering. Our rule would be nothing more than tyranny.”
“Perhaps, at first,” admitted Cha-sak, “but that would change with time. As humankind accepted the new order of things, they would become content. If you enter into a blood contract with me, your life will be tied to mine. I am immortal, and therefore you could live forever. You could be the eternal ruler of this world.”
Adesina recalled Ravi’s warning when she had first met Cha-sak on the Threshold. He could only speak the truth when discussing the terms of the blood contract, but he would omit important information and choose his language carefully to make it seem more beneficial than it really was.
Adesina noted that Cha-sak kept saying that she could do things, not that it would actually happen. The only definite term he had outlined was that her life would be tied to his—which sounded very dangerous.
Adesina raised her chin and glared at the ruby eyes in the darkness before her. “I was not lying when I said I did not wish to be the ruler of humankind. There may be benefits of uniting all nations, but I will not be the one to attempt it.”
“Are you truly so selfish that you would deny the whole of humankind greater happiness because you do not wish to be inconvenienced?” accused Cha-sak. “Yes, there would be years of hard work on your part—humans are not known for easily accepting change—but the rewards of your labors would be greater than you could ever imagine.”
“It is not that I find the idea of hard work undesirable,” corrected Adesina.
“What is it, then?” Cha-sak sneered.
“It is that I understand that what you are proposing is wrong. The agency of individuals matters, and forcing them to our will is an act of evil.”
Cha-sak’s glowing eyes narrowed as he scoffed at Adesina’s words. “You speak like a child. The idea of good and evil was invented by those who wished to control those around them. Nothing is good or evil. They simply are.”
Adesina smiled sadly. “I might have believed you once, but now I know better. I have seen evil in my own life, and I have seen good. I know that they both exist, and I know on which side I want to stand.”
“You think that I am the one lying, but it is those who have taught you to believe these things who have lied to you,” insisted Cha-sak.
“I am surrounded by those who love me,” interrupted Adesina. “My husband, my father, my brother, my guardian—they are my strength and my compass. Even if I were tempted by your lies, they would guide me back to the truth. I know that they would never do anything to lead me astray.”
“They may not always be there to hold your hand,” Cha-sak hissed.
Adesina felt a cold anger steal over her heart. “Are you threatening them?”
“I am telling you that when you realize your grave error in refusing my offer, it may be too late,” the demon spat.
“If that day ever comes,” retorted Adesina, “you will never know of it.”
She raised her hands and summoned her vyala, letting it flow through her.
Cha-sak’s ruby eyes became amused. “You cannot block me from your Dreams. Only an Immortal has such power.”
Adesina ignored the demon and instead listened to her instincts. Sitara had told her to trust her instincts, and they would reveal her potential as well as her limits.
She flung up a wall of power between herself and Cha-sak, The wall grew stronger as it expanded. Something told her that this would keep her from entering any Dream until she removed it, but the loss of Dreaming was a necessary sacrifice in order to be protected from the influence of the Shimat demon.
Cha-sak’s eyes widened in shock. “How is this possible?”
“I am no mere mortal,” Adesina said in a ringing voice as she put the final touches on the Dream barrier. “I am the Threshold Child.”
Chapter Twenty-Five: The Barricade
The western border of Sehar was connected to its neighboring nation by a relatively narrow stretch of land. The access area was made even more narrow by a range of jagged mountains that lined the northern half. The narrow entry point made it quite easy for the Shimat mercenaries to keep any travelers from passing into or out of the country.
E’nes crept forward on his stomach, moving until he reached the peak of the grassy hill, behind which he and Mar’sal had stopped to rest their horses. E’nes pulled out his small spyglass and peered at the obstacle before them.
The mercenaries had felled the surrounding trees, stacking the logs to create a jagged wall. The majority of the force was camped on the eastern side, so the barricade could also serve as protection against the possibility of any force marching against them.
E’nes crawled back down the hill with a frown on his face.
“Well?” asked Mar’sal.
He shook his head. “It does not look good. There isn’t anywhere to hide on the side of the mountain—it looks like they just started a fire and let it burn all the cover to ash. In order to stay hidden, we would have to climb well into the dangerous regions. The barricade itself does not cover the entire flat area from end to end, but it is wide enough that no one can get by without being challenged by the sentries.”
Mar’sal cursed quietly. “What are we to do, then?”
“I am not sure,” admitted E’nes.
The group of deserting city soldiers that E’nes had overheard in the woods had approached the barricade openly, requesting permission to pass through. From the saf
ety of their hiding place, E’nes and Mar’sal had heard the mercenaries attack, and only two survivors had escaped. It seemed that the Shimat mercenaries had their orders not to let anyone go through—no matter the reason.
A salty breeze blew up from the coast. It filled E’nes’s nostrils, and the scent of the sea gave him an idea.
“If we cannot cross into Etan by land,” he said slowly, “perhaps we can try to do so by sea.”
Mar’sal snorted. “We do not have a boat, E’nes. How could we possibly sail from here to Etan?”
E’nes shook his head. “I did not say we would sail there.”
Mar’sal’s expression became incredulous. “Do you mean to swim?”
“I doubt they would expect it,” reasoned E’nes.
“Because it is insanity,” retorted Mar’sal. “The coast drops off sharply, and the ocean in filled with danger. The currents are strong, and there are creatures that feed on flesh.”
“We need not go out far into the water,” E’nes maintained.
“We would be spotted if we stayed in the safe areas,” Mar’sal insisted. “The only way to avoid notice would be to venture into the deep waters, and doing so would probably get us killed.”
E’nes sighed. “What do you suggest? We cannot climb the mountains, and we cannot swim down the coast. We have to get to the Gateway City. Our people are counting on us.”
Mar’sal ran his hands through his hair. “I know, I know.”
“If only we had someone with us who could create an illusion,” E’nes said uselessly.
E’nes possessed L’avan gifts that allowed him to sense the physical world around him as well as use his vyala as a tangible force. Mar’sal’s gifts allowed him to alter the density of his own body and to heal others. None of those things were very helpful in the current situation.
E’nes had once asked Adesina how she was able to use all of the L’avan gifts in spite of the limits of her eye colors. She had simply shrugged and replied that she just did. She focused on what she wanted to accomplish—which made sense, since purple in the eyes indicated the ability to focus one’s abilities—and she made it happen. E’nes envied the broad scope of his sister’s powers.
He did not envy what those powers meant, though.
Adesina’s role as the Threshold Child was a heavy responsibility to bear. She had not grown up hearing about the prophecy. She had not always had the expectation that someone would be born to save the L’avan people. However, she was surrounded by people who had heard the prophesy their entire lives. Every L’avan looked to her to solve all of their problems, to save them from every danger, and to lead them to a golden age of peace and prosperity.
E’nes had been in the meeting where Adesina had revealed that the prophecy every L’avan knew was incomplete. She had told them the rest of it. But only a handful of men and women had heard the remainder of the prophesy. The rest of the L’avan people maintained the belief that Adesina would simply fix everything that was wrong in the world. Or, at least, everything that ailed the L’avan.
E’nes sighed and pushed away such thoughts. None of that would get him past the Shimat barricade, and that was his priority at the moment.
Mar’sal placed an urgent hand on his arm and pointed in the direction away from the barricade.
A strange figure rode in the distance, heading south. It was an aged man wearing a strange outfit—crimson and full of frills. His horse was of a common stock, looking as though it belonged behind a plow, but it marched on with a determined air.
“I think I know him,” said Mar’sal quietly. “Perhaps he can help us.”
They mounted their horses and rode up to the man, who slowed to watch them as they approached. E’nes also recognized the man as they drew nearer. He had seen him with the first group of High City refugees that had arrived at the L’avan settlement, before they had begun preparing for war.
The man had snowy white hair and a wrinkled face. His clothing was worn but carefully mended, and he had a lute case strapped to his saddlebags. His alert expression eased as E’nes and Mar’sal rode close enough for their L’avan features to be recognized.
“Jahan Lirit,” called Mar’sal, “we first met in Emerald Harbor and then again upon my return from my journey to Zonne.”
“Yes, of course,” responded the aged bard. “I know you, Mar’sal.”
“You left the L’avan settlement when it was decided to retreat to the borders of Pevothem,” recalled E’nes. “What are you doing here now?”
Jahan Lirit’s eyes narrowed as he studied E’nes. “You are the queen’s brother, am I right? Yes, I thought I knew you as well.” He took a breath and his expression became carefree. “Well, as I said before in the settlement, war is no place for a man of my talents. Truth be told, I am a pacifist to my very core. I doubt I could strike a man for insulting my own dear mother. It seemed expedient for me to move on once the L’avan became embroiled in conflict.”
“We would not have required you to fight,” E’nes said in a tone that was slightly defensive.
Jahan held up both hands, “I know, lad, I know. However, I did not want to set a bad example for other refugees. Those who claim the benefit of protection from enemies must do their part to help those protecting them—whether it be through joining the fight or finding other means to contribute. I have no real practical skills, so I could not wash clothing or mend armor. I doubt I could even gather firewood without causing more harm than good!” He laughed. “I am only a simple bard, but I did not wish others to follow my example by doing nothing for the war effort.”
E’nes agreed with the sentiment, but he had a hard time believing that Jahan had nothing to offer. “You could have helped to keep up morale. Soldiers enjoy entertainment just as much as others.”
“As do those who are faced with persecution,” the bard said lightly. “I have been traveling through the villages where the Scepter of Cha-sak has left despair in its wake. I have been trying to remind the people of Sehar that humankind has come through dark times before, and we will do so again. Is that not the point of retelling tales of the past—to give us hope of the future?”
Mar’sal nodded solemnly. “I believe you are right.”
“Where are you headed now?” asked E’nes.
Jahan pointed north. “I have made a circle to the villages in the central and southern lands, and now I am making my way back up toward where I began.”
“You are not going to Charan?”
The old man laughed again. “I think you know the answer to that question. Those Scepter thugs are not letting anyone leave Sehar, lest they are successful in bringing back help.”
“Yes,” said Mar’sal slowly. “We are finding that to be a problem.”
Jahan’s features immediately lost their mirth. “I see. You are hoping to get past that barricade?”
E’nes nodded. “We are not seeing a way to make it happen, though.”
The aged musician rubbed his hands together as he considered the situation. “If there were a way to pass safely over the treacherous foothills of that mountain range at night, you might be able to make it. That is, assuming the mercenaries had their attention elsewhere.”
E’nes caught on to what Jahan Lirit was suggesting and said, “I have a gift for knowing the world that surrounds me. Even in the dark, I might be able to find a safe path for us and our horses.”
Jahan gave a flourishing gesture. “What a coincidence! I have a gift for enchanting my listeners so they are distracted from the humdrum details of real life.”
Mar’sal chuckled. “It seems we have a plan.”
Jahan looked at the sky. “It will be evening before long. I am not sure that the mercenaries will allow me to perform for them, but I will do my best to persuade them. You should move into place so you can watch me and begin crossing the foothills as soon as I draw their eyes.”
E’nes reached over and clasped the old man’s hand. “Thank you,” he said in a fervent tone.
“We will not forget this.”
Jahan’s eyes took on a steely glint. “The Scepter of Cha-sak tries to drain hope from the land and batter its people into submission. I would be glad to see them fail.”
With that, the two companies parted.
Jahan Lirit rode his plow horse directly toward the barricade, pulling out colorful balls and juggling them in complex patterns. It was easy to see his skill, even from a distance, and one could safely assume that he would be identified as a harmless performer.
E’nes and Mar’sal rode in a different direction. They headed north, doing their best to keep out of sight. The foothills of the mountains were rough and filled with loose rocks that clattered when knocked loose.
The two L’avan soldiers found a place to hide and waited for night to fall—which took less than half an hour. E’nes pulled out his spyglass and directed it toward the barricade.
Watch fires had been lit all around the wall of logs, and several more glowed at a distance from the actual barricade. The sentries would be able to see the movement of anyone trying to sneak by.
E’nes spotted Jahan Lirit speaking to a small group of the mercenaries and gesturing grandly. It was difficult to see the expressions of those listening to the bard, but they seemed receptive. After several moments the mercenaries looked at one another and shrugged. Jahan Lirit bowed with a flourish and moved to a more prominent position.
“He did it,” whispered E’nes to Mar’sal. “They are letting him perform.”
Mar’sal gave a grim smile. “I knew he could. He could convince an aekuor to sit still and listen to him perform.”
E’nes then turned his attention to the sentries on duty. Initially, they kept their eyes outward, scanning the surrounding area restlessly. After a time, they turned more and more toward the performing artist until they were watching him with fixed interest.
“Follow me,” hissed E’nes.
He called forth his vyala and his vision tinted dark green. He could sense the physical world in perfect detail, even better than if it had been full daylight. His eyes picked out the safest route over the next several feet, and he committed it to memory. Then he altered his vyala to an orange tint and used the force of his power to press at the loose rocks surrounding their feet, keeping them all firmly in place. This allowed them to move much more quietly.
