by J. A. Comley
Her ears flicked towards the sounds, eventually picking out the racing footsteps of a Nightstalker intent on speed, not silence.
Mukori sighed and let his hand trail back to her hand, where he contented himself tracing small circles on her wrist.
With his eyes full of dark fire, he dropped his hand from her waist, taking special care to pass over her rear on the way to the ground. Valana smirked at his cheeky grin, and his eyes widened in delight.
Okano raced into view, his heart galloping faster than any normal Aurelian could survive. His dark-green hair billowed over his face as he skidded abruptly to a halt.
Then the source of the wheezing and grunting became apparent as a tiny man with iron-blue hair hopped off Okano's back and scurried the last few steps to Mukori's side, his gold vest glinting brightly in the moonlight, the clips in his ears marking him for life.
Thank the ancestors. He found a Makhi.
She looked to Okano and found him placing a pack on the ground and trying not to laugh. He caught her eye, looked pointedly at her chest and then winked.
Valana glanced down and for the first time in decades felt herself blush. Mukori's wandering fingers had left faint streaks of blood and dirt across her pale skin.
“Ah, Lerimo, thank you for coming so swiftly, my friend.” Mukori greeted the little Makhi as if they had planned to meet for lunch.
“My Lord,” Lerimo said, bowing his head. His pale blue eyes took in Valana. “I have it from here, Nightstalker.”
Valana stepped back obediently and moved over to Okano. He threw her a salacious grin and she jabbed him in the gut. He grunted then chuckled softly.
Her Nightstalker blood began to tingle in response to the Makhi's magic.
“Did you hear or see anything else on the way?” she asked, the tingle in her blood reminding her of the strange echoes.
Okano raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “The Tree is close, though. It may be that. I sometimes think I feel magic echoes when there is nothing magical nearby.”
Nodding, she looked back to where Mukori lay. She was impressed by how well-connected Mukori's group of ragtag wanderers really was. The fact that he had a Makhi ready to race to his aid at a moment's notice spoke volumes. Again she was filled with the certainty she had seen burning in Mukori's eyes when he had invited her to join him. Together, there was hope.
If Hapira joined us, there would be even more.
She met Mukori's eyes. He had been watching her this whole time. A soft fire still burned there, and it spiked as he saw it mirrored back.
Makhi Lerimo rose, moving a step back as Mukori sat up. Valana smiled appreciatively at the new skin covering Mukori's neck and chest. There wasn't a trace left of the wounds at all, no scars. Lerimo must be a very powerful Makhi to have managed such a perfect Healing.
“Thank you, Lerimo.” Mukori rose gracefully from the ground. “And thank you, Okano, for your quick thinking and swift action. And you Valana, for your steady hands and distracting conversation.”
Valana sincerely hoped that she was the only one that had caught his ever so slight hesitation before conversation. Okano's breathy chuckle made swift work of that hope. She rolled her eyes. He had said, himself, that she could do worse than Mukori. She only hoped whatever happened between them after today did not derail his cause. Bringing peace back to Trianon had to be more important than anything they might feel.
Isn't this like Okano all over again? Is the greater good only to be gained if we stay apart?
Okano and Lerimo then began laying the others flat on their backs and assessing any injuries they may have sustained when they succumbed to the shimbak's song.
“I can wake them, my Lord, whenever you are ready.”
Makhi Lerimo crouched near Tanoril's head, a hand suspended above it. Valana raised her eyebrows. That Lerimo was capable of the delicate task of unravelling the shimbak song’s effects on the brain impressed her more than his healing of Mukori had.
“I am glad, though I had no doubt. I will let you know when I am ready. Will you attend to the ground, first?”
Valana watched perplexed as Lerimo began siphoning and vanishing Mukori's pooled blood from the sands and then looked to up to find Mukori pulling a wash cloth and water from the pack Okano had brought. He found her watching and smiled.
“Will you help me make sure I clear up everything that isn't the emerald blood of a shimbak?”
Valana walked to him calmly, determined not to look at Okano and see the knowing smile she knew she would find.
“Make sure you wash any out of my hair, too.”
She raised her eyebrows and got to work, keeping her focus on the blood and not the fact that a thin, wet cloth was all that stood in the way of her hand and his bare skin.
“Done,” she said, walking a full circle around him, checking for any crimson smears.
He snatched the cloth and swiftly wiped the smears he had left on her away. She glared and he chuckled.
“Thank you.”
He looked up to the others then and caught the shirt Okano tossed his way, artfully splattered with emerald shimbak blood. “Remember, not a word to the others. Please, wake them, Lerimo.” He pulled on the new shirt, identical to the one that had been ruined.
Valana opened her mouth to ask why the others couldn't know what had happened, but Mukori shook his head in a silent command just as Tanoril groaned and sat up. He thanked Lerimo groggily and rose unsteadily to his feet. Valana held her silence as the others followed a similar pattern, all except Durio, who began bawling at once, rooting eagerly, and Karicha, who spotted Lerimo's gold vest and rolled away, reaching for her dagger. Okano's gentle voice soothed her long enough for her to realise that there was no threat from this Makhi, that he was the one that had Healed little Durio.
Bakoro began ribbing Okano about not wanting him to be outshone and that was why he had not managed to hear the shimbak early enough to let Bakoro get a cap of sirah weed, too. And Tanoril was making Valana faintly nauseous as he praised Mukori for his bravery and fierceness.
As if you weren’t drooling into the sand the entire time.
“Let us make for home. We must put some distance between us and these corpses. If we walk until moonset, we will be there tomorrow.”
The others all nodded eagerly, eyeing the dead shimbak with a mixture of disgust and fear.
“Okano, lead them,” Mukori said as Okano turned to help Mukori gather up some supplies that had been scattered in the fight. “I am quite safe with Valana. We will clear this up and follow you all shortly.”
“As you command,” Okano said, striding away, a cheeky grin hovering on the edge of his voice.
Valana scooped up objects and shoved them unceremoniously into the pack she carried, waiting for the others to be far enough away. When she was sure that only Okano would have even the slightest chance of over-hearing, she turned to face Mukori.
“Why can the others not know that you were injured?”
She did not like secrets. They always seemed too much like lies when held up to the laws of Honour she had been raised in.
Why is it that as soon as I decide to trust him, he does something to undermine my decision?
Mukori picked up one more thing and then began walking slowly towards her, answering her question as he came.
“The people who follow me have invariably suffered from the chaos that stalks our lands.” Seven steps away. “They believe things can change, because they believe in me, that I can bring order.” Five steps away. “Because of this, I am more than just a man, to them at least. I am my cause, my ideals. I am their hope for the future.” Three steps away. “If they realised how easily I can fall, that I am only mortal, after all and can be destroyed by our enemies, they may lose that hope, that faith, and the whole fragile system would fall apart.” He stopped a single step from her, eyes serious, and held out a hand to her. “I have chosen my Hands carefully, ensuring that there are strong leaders beneath me. But th
ey call me lord. They do not see me as just a man. They will know that we fought and won. They will feel confident that I am safely guarded by my Protectors. They do not need to know how close they came to losing their leader, their hope. Do you understand why?”
Valana nodded, looking at his neck and realising that Lerimo had purposefully expended so much magic to ensure that there would be no lingering evidence of his Lord's mortality.
“Yes,” she said, meeting his eyes again.
“So you agree to keep the secret?”
“By your command, my Lord.”
“Why, thank you,” Mukori said, laughing. “You make my title sound utterly ridiculous. Which, of course, it is. Although I am glad that you understand the importance of it to the others.”
She grinned at him. He was so easy to like. His presence was magnetic, drawing you in. His confidence was not arrogance, instead it felt more like a safe harbour. His hand was still waiting, a silent question. She laid her hand in his, certainty coursing through her. He had said that he didn't think he would ever find another woman like her. She was equally sure that she would never meet another man like him.
He used her hand to draw her the final step towards him, taking with it her acceptance of him, his world, and all its necessary secrets.
When she was close enough that their breath mingled in the air, he bent his head and whispered in her ear.
“I hope this means that we can continue our earlier discussion once we reach home.” His lips grazed her ear, and she shuddered then turned it into a shrug.
“Maybe.”
He pulled back and chuckled at the mischievous smile playing around the corners of her mouth.
“I shall find a way to convince you.”
Raising her eyebrows in challenge, she moved away from him, heading in the direction the others had gone. Grinning broadly, he caught up with her and took her hand again, only letting it go as they reached the rest of their party.
She watched Karicha casting furtive glances at Lerimo and sighed.
“What is it?” Mukori asked, still walking beside her.
Valana glanced over at him, taking comfort from his solid presence. “I am worried that Karicha will fear Makhi for the rest of her life.”
Mukori looked to the girl then back. “I think she is young and strong. She has a heart as fierce as yours.”
Valana gave him a small smile then felt her fists clench. “What was a Galatian Makhi doing there, anyway?”
Mukori's bright eyes took in the look on her face, and he shook his head, leaning closer and pitching his voice for her alone. “It is not the first time they have seemed to have a hand in Aurelians’ misfortune.”
Valana turned her head to meet his eyes. They travelled over her lips, then he blinked as if trying to remember what he had been saying. If he had been Okano, Valana would have jabbed him in the ribs. As it was, she tried to keep her own thoughts clear of distraction as he continued.
“My organisation has uncovered much evidence to suggest that the decimation of our tribal Makhi was the work of the Makhi Order of Galatia.”
“I thought those were just rumours, anything to shift the blame.”
“So did I, but with such a clean attack, I set some of my people to investigating. I can show you what they uncovered when we have time.”
Valana nodded absently. “Why would High Lord Jari order such a thing?”
“I don't know. It is unclear if he even did order it, or if the Makhi responsible were rogues.”
Valana shook her head. The worlds were in desperate need of each other to survive the effects of the Breaking, but acts like that only worked to further separate the planets.
Mukori nodded, a grim smile on his face. “I think you are beginning to clearly see the difficult and tangled task you have agreed to help me with.”
Valana met his eyes and found her own determination mirrored there. Trianon would not fall without a fight.
The distant yips and howls of scavengers echoed across the dead land that day, all drawn to the battlefield by the blood-tainted air. The group slept fitfully, Valana and Okano keeping guard.
Okano seemed lost in his own thoughts and so Valana scanned the changing land.
She was happier with her place in Mukori's ranks. She determined to ask after Hapira tomorrow and not to let him change the subject.
Every time she addressed one of her concerns, his answers were always clear, logical, and without reproach. She hoped this last question would be the same.
The outer ripple between the Scar and the Great Expanse had been easily marked by the sudden lack of vegetation and the huge chunks of torn up earth. As they progressed through the Scar, the waves of tortured ground had diminished in size, and the traces of life grew fainter. The last ripple had been crossed at moonset. She could still see the line of black earth that curved off in either direction, as all the ripples did, encircling the starting point of the spell that had broken everything.
At the next moonset, they would be there, at the very heart of the Breaking. She felt a chill at the thought but took heart from the fact that Mukori had sworn that the Lightless Tree was not the life-sucking void rumours claimed it to be.
Just don’t touch the leaves.
The terrain ahead was unnaturally flat, as if a great weight had pressed down on the land, turning even the stoutest rocks to dust.
She rubbed her temples again. The land here held nothing. Not even the faintest trace of life existed. The emptiness screamed out against her mind.
“It will be better within the Tree.”
Valana opened one eye to grimace at Okano. “Why, because my powers will be Bound?”
He chuckled. “They won't be Bound. They’ll be…” He paused, trying to find the words. “It is difficult to explain what the Tree does, but it isn't like being Bound. But, no, that is not why. The Tree also seems to nullify this… this wrongness in the land.”
Wrongness. Yes, that was it. The magic that had spilt across this place was wrong and it made her blood feel as it it had been filled with tiny, broken shards of glass.
“But it will get worse the closer we get to the Tree.”
“Great.”
He shook his head. “Glad you signed up, eh? Cargon and shimbak attacks, sneaky thelori, and a magical Scar that is like nails raking through your brain.”
“Of course,” she said, matching his playful tone. “I can think of nothing better.”
They both laughed, then shuddered as the sound was swallowed by the desolate emptiness as if it were alive and eager to quell any life foolish enough to enter it.
The rest of the dark day continued in silence, but with everyone uneasy, they started out two hours before moonrise, everyone eager to be home. Valana bit her tongue. She would ask about Hapira when they were out of this place and her mind didn't feel like it was beating back invisible attacks.
Valana was looking down at Karicha, listening to the girl's whispered talk of how Mukori had just told her that the person he was thinking would make a good Mentor for her was already at their base and so she could start training straight away if she was accepted as a student.
“I can show her all the new moves Okano and Bakoro have taught me,” she said, stifling a huge yawn.
Valana huffed. “I think you'd do better to get at least one day of proper sleep in a bed, with no fear of becoming something's supper.”
Karicha scowled and then shrugged. “I suppose you are right, but really it was Tanoril's snoring that kept me awake, not the predators. I still want to meet her though, tonight.”
“We can—”
“Finally,” Bakoro exclaimed loudly from just behind them. “Come on, little Nightstalker. Shall I show you the secret entrance?”
Karicha grinned and went with him, but threw Valana a huge, excited smile.
Valana smiled back and gave her an encouraging wave, reading the nervousness that lay beneath. Valana looked ahead and stopped dead. Thin, tendril-like thing
s rose from the ground, glowing green, then blue, then purple, then pink, before starting over again. They billowed back and forth, as if caught in a strong wind, but no wind blew here. The air tasted stale, like she had walked into a large, glass dome with no windows or doors, nothing to let even the smallest amount of new air in.
Looking up from the glowing tendrils, she saw the towering form of the Lightless Tree rising up out of the ground, seeming more like a hole cut in the horizon than a solid object. It took her a moment to realise why this was, and then she figured it out. The full moon should have been easily able to illuminate the Tree's surface, but it didn't, as if the Tree were somehow absorbing all the light and giving none in return.
A tinkling noise began as the first of their group headed for the Tree. Tanoril had his hand on the courier's shoulder and was talking in a fatherly manner, reassuring the younger man, telling him to keep his eyes on the trunk.
She looked at the long, thin branches that hung down from the Tree, shielding its trunk. The leaves bumped together, making the noise.
“They are mirrors,” Valana said to no one in particular as she trailed the group towards the Tree.
“Yes,” Mukori said, coming up beside her. Something pressed down on her hair briefly and she looked up at him, dragging her eyes from the Tree. “Remember not to touch them.”
He searched her eyes for a moment then smiled. “Welcome to my home, Valana,” he said, gesturing grandly at the Lightless Tree that towered above them.
8
A New Life
The Lightless Tree stood only a few feet away now, rising into the night sky, blotting out the stars, and sucking in all the light. Even craning her neck as far as it would go, she couldn't fit the massive structure into view.
The rumours that had started shortly after the Breaking always described the Tree as an evil thing that drained the life from anything around it. That was why nothing at all lived or grew within the final ripple of the Scar. Many now held a deep fear that its hunger was insatiable, and it would eventually suck Aurelia dry, leaving nothing alive. Children, who used to be told to fear angering the Demilain, were now told that the Tree's power was gained through bad deeds and slowed by good ones. If enough people behaved well and did as they were told, the Tree would not be able to send its dark tendrils across the lands.
