Teeth of the Gods

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  It was a long time before anyone spoke, but eventually Jakinda said, “We’ll walk then, but we still need to put a space between them and us. We can hide out in the wilderness, but only if we get a head start first. There is no going back after this. We’ve killed our own.”

  I felt tears start to form and I sniffed them back. I had killed my own.

  We trudged through the wilderness drifting westward towards a ridge of hills, and leading our two elephants. They were all we had left. Two elephants, the supplies they carried, three guards, Rusk and me. A more pathetic little band had never ridden out to find the Teeth of the Gods. Why had I ever thought this was a good idea? I had no idea where to go. We hadn’t packed for the journey beyond emergency supplies. I could only hope that the money hadn’t been with Conteh and Noxolo’s elephant. Should I ask Jakinda? I didn’t dare speak to her. She would see right through me and know I was a fraud.

  As the hours passed the dust rose, and the terrain began to rise. Small rocks and gullies turned to large towering clumps of boulders and steep ravines. Rusk’s steps, firm and sure at first, became slow and every so often he stumbled. The little ball of his pain in the back of my mind felt hotter, like too much sun shining on my skin. Dusk was gathering when Jakinda led us into a ravine with a babbling stream and wide wedges set in the rock—the perfect place to hide for the night.

  The elephants drank and we filled our waterskins in silence.

  “No fire,” Jakinda said quietly. Her face gave no emotions away, but her motions were sloppy and halting, as if she were weary and barely staying on her feet. “There are two crevices. We tether the elephants and sleep in the crevices. The tight space will preserve warmth. There’s only room for three people in each one. As you and your san’lelion may not be separated, I suggest you take the smaller crevice, Tazminera.”

  She didn’t wait for a response before stomping off to tether her elephant. Buhari whispered something to her as she walked by, but she threw up a hand and he fell still, looking at me with stony eyes before following her to unload the elephant.

  Sesay worked to pull supplies off Alsoon as I tethered him. He handed two bundles to Rusk and me without saying a word and then slipped into the larger crevice with Jakinda and Buhari. Our own spot was so far away that voices would not carry, but I knew that they would speak of me and judge together whether I was fit to lead them.

  “Come on,” I said to Rusk, pulling on the tether as I led him to our own spot.

  The rising moon highlighted it. Jakinda hadn’t lied about its small size. We would be very close as we slept; certainly touching and almost cuddling. The bundles I carried were light. I rummaged through them as Rusk arranged bracken and fallen branches over the top of the crevice.

  “To keep the heat in,” he said.

  The packs contained my clothing, some odds and ends of guards clothing that would do for Rusk, the waterskins, dried food, coin in leather purses and a few tiny odds and ends. No blankets or bedding of any kind. I’d never slept on the ground before. It looked hard.

  “Just supplies?” Rusk asked quietly.

  “No, it’s the feather bed I packed,” I said miserably, trying to wedge them into the rocks so we could at least have a pillow of sorts.

  “You need to stop moping,” he said.

  Moping? My head felt heavy with shame. I would hardly call that moping.

  “You are the one who brought us out here and brought enemies down upon us, chasing us through the wilderness.”

  He gave the temporary roof a last pat and then ducked into the crevice, leaving me with the option of standing just outside the door or joining him. I crawled inside.

  “Don’t you think I know that this is all my fault? I’m not heartless. If I were, all of this would be so much easier!” I hissed, “Don’t you think I realize that I’ve made such a mess of things that I can’t untangle them? I can’t find a way. I don’t know what to do. All I can think of is that I should just shut up.”

  He was so close in the confines of the rocks that I had no choice but to lie right next to him, our faces only inches apart as we whispered together.

  “Is this how you always are? Impulsive? Unable to follow through?” he hissed.

  “Is this how you always are?” I countered, “Judging and arrogant?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Now be honest, is this who you are?”

  I thought about it for a while. “I would prefer courageous and visionary. But I’m not heartless. I just didn’t realize. I just...I didn’t want my life to be over before it began.”

  I sniffed, trying not to cry.

  He sighed. “None of us wants our fate determined by someone else. But it’s only children who insist that someone else die for that.”

  “Well what am I supposed to do now?” I asked, my voice quavering.

  He snorted a quiet laugh. “Do you have any idea where we are supposed to go?”

  I bit my lip. An answer had occurred to me during the last few hours of walking. Did I dare to tell him? But if not the man chained to me, then who?

  “You’ll laugh,” I said. He was so near that the heat of his body warmed me, and part of me wanted to cross that final inch and sink into his arms, because even if he hated me, he was human. I needed some kind of human contact. I needed someone to look at me and tell me I wasn’t defective—that I wasn’t so useless that the world would have been better if I had fallen into the tear in the earth today—even if that someone was him.

  “Does it matter? You’ll have to say something soon.”

  “I think they are across the sea.”

  “That’s why you wanted to go to Al’Toan, a port city,” he said. He wasn’t laughing at least. His eyes glowed slightly in the moonlight. They made me wish that circumstances were different. That he respected me. That he was glad to be chained to me. That he would reach out and kiss me... but then I’d be kissing my mother’s enemy. And he’d be kissing the daughter of the one who destroyed his world.

  I sighed.

  “Am I wrong?” he asked, misunderstanding.

  “No, that’s why I wanted to go to Al’Toan.”

  “Why do you think it is across the sea?”

  “The ring of the heavens.”

  “The one that points to the Ribs of Ochrand?”

  “You know about that?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself. The temperature was dropping and my sarette was not warm. We needed to buy blankets as soon as we could.

  “I told you, I’m not a barbarian.” He shifted painfully and one hand clasped his ribs.

  “We forgot to change your poultice.”

  “I think the spares were in the palanquin.”

  I felt another stab of guilt. Would he heal without it?

  “I’ll be fine,” he said as if he could read my mind. “Why the Ribs of Ochrand?”

  “There’s this nursery rhyme, ‘Ring around the heavens, can see it in a thick lens, falling, falling under the snow,’ but later it mentions Gods’ Teeth.”

  “Later? I’ve only ever heard that first part—the part you just sang,” he said, shivering a little.

  I opened the bag under my head, pulling out some of the clothing and spread them over us. Had I heard more than that one verse before An’alepp sang it in Ra’shara?

  “I think it might be about the Teeth of the Gods. After all, if the Gods hid some great mystery, wouldn’t they have left some kind of clue for how to find it?”

  “Who knows what Gods might think?” Rusk said. “But it’s as good a clue as ever. If we find them, what then?”

  “Then we get a boon from the High Tazmin and he has a powerful artifact to protect our nation.”

  “What would you do with a boon?” he asked. “You who have everything?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Do you have sisters to save from a powerful Tazmin?”

  “No,” I admitted.

  “Then you have everything.” It was always going to come d
own to that for us. We were quiet for a few minutes and then he said, “You need to stop pouting and lead.”

  I scoffed. “My ‘leading’ is what got us in this mess.”

  “Which is why you owe it to our guards to get them out. They’re here because your vision led them here and now you have just stopped. For them there is no more vision, no more cause, just a whiny girl who is abandoning them when her plans don’t work out.”

  Did his words sting because they were cruel, or because they were true?

  “Listen,” he whispered, “Your duty to them now is to lead confidently and not to let them down. They are wanted fugitives because of you. The least you can do is not give up after tossing them into the pot.” He bit his lip. Why did I feel like I wanted to be close to him when he seemed small? “Do this for me. I am bound to you and sworn to give you advice. Please take this one bit of advice. Remember when I told you to pack supplies? That was the right call. This is, too. You owe it to me as your san’lelion to listen.”

  My fingers twisted around my sarette. Could I do that? Could I keep leading and be confident when I felt so uncertain? I shivered.

  “I will do this one thing for you,” I said. A cloud covered the moon and I couldn’t see any longer. “If you do something for me in exchange.”

  “What would you have from me, Tazminera?” he asked.

  “Tell me that you know I’m not heartless.”

  He was quiet for a long time. “I don’t think you’re heartless. Or at least, I’m willing to learn that you aren’t.”

  It would have to be enough for now. Should I push my luck and ask for something else?

  “One more thing,” I said, “let me curl up against you. I’m so cold. Let’s call a truce this one night and just stay warm.”

  In answer, he reached out, large warm hands gently feeling for my waist, and then drew me in and held me close to his body. I was instantly warmer.

  “Granted,” he whispered lightly into my ear.

  The ground was hard as iron, and I barely dared to breathe in case I broke the spell, but I had never before fallen asleep feeling so much like I was in the right place.

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Tea in a Pot

  I was still warm when I opened my eyes, blinking at the sun as it filtered in through the leaves and branches above me and outlined them in back-lit glow. Tiny dewdrops covered their edges and the air was cool and fresh. Despite the chill, delicious warmth made me sigh and sink in deeper towards its source before I remembered how I’d spent the night. I shifted slightly to look. Sure enough, Rusk slept beside me, air rushing gently in and out of lips just inches away from mine. His eyelashes were feathered against his cheeks and one arm was draped over my waist. His whole chest and belly heaved slightly with every breath and warm air gusted over me. He smelled of sage and fresh air and male musk. I didn’t dare break the spell.

  If things weren’t so complicated, I would be thanking the High Tazmin with every second thought for choosing Rusk as san’lelion for me instead of someone old, perverse, or boorish. The touch of his skin against mine, even though he slept, gave me little goosebumps. I felt myself blushing even though no one was watching. I wasn’t embarrassed to be found lying here with him—necessity had dictated that—but I was embarrassed to be enjoying it so much.

  “Mother,” I said in my head, as if I were really speaking to her, “would you be angry if I chose not to take revenge on your enemy? Would you understand that he is my only ally? Would you understand if I told you that I don’t know why my heart races when he is near, but I don’t want it to stop?”

  Likely she wouldn’t understand. Likely she would want me to run as far from him as I could. But then again, she had married the High Tazmin. I’d never asked if she loved him, it hadn’t seemed important. She’d loved him enough—or been loyal enough—to kill Rusk’s family at his order. It was obvious that it was by order or our army wouldn’t have been waiting to attack at that moment. Had she loved my father? Had she loved him even though he was a demanding and absolute ruler? Had she loved him because of it? Amandera certainly seemed to.

  I should have asked Mother so many things. Now that I thought of it, she had never spoken about that part of her life. Our visits were short and were usually about my progress and tips for how I could better succeed in my lessons or small gifts and gossip about court life. Maybe she hadn’t thought I needed to know. Or maybe she had been sworn not to tell. It was too late to speculate. Would I see her someday in Ra’shara? I didn’t think anyone saw their parents there, but there were a lot of things I didn’t know.

  Rusk sighed, stirring slightly and a stab of excitement shot through me as his eyes flickered open. He smiled slowly, his lips curling up so faintly that the smile was barely there, and then his eyes went bright for a moment and one hand reached up and cupped my cheek as he kissed me light as a hummingbird drinking from a flower. I barely had time to gasp in surprise, much less enjoy the sensation, before he pulled back, bit his lip and then sat up.

  “I shouldn’t have,” he said, looking at me with his face half turned as if he were afraid I would see more on his face than I was meant to.

  He was so much like the boy who led me out into the night to go dancing that I smiled, too, before I remembered that things were more complicated now. Didn’t he hate me? Didn’t he think I was a failure? Why would he kiss me? I turned quickly to gather up the clothing we had used to keep warm and prepare for the day.

  We washed faces, hands and teeth side by side in the creek and took care of more embarrassing necessities with as much dignity as could be mustered on either end of an eight-foot tether.

  “You clean your teeth like royalty,” he said gravely to me as we finished.

  I rolled my eyes, but was pleased that he could joke. Perhaps something had changed for him last night, too. Could it be possible that somehow, he didn’t hate me anymore?

  My guards were loading their elephant when we joined them with the bags. With no fire to cook, we all ate a small breakfast of dried meat and cheese before refilling our waterskins. Jakinda seemed listless as she ate and Buhari ignored her gaze, which flickered often to him. Sesay stood next to the elephants, his hands running over them again and again as if he could conjure them home with his touch.

  I cleared my throat.

  “We make for the coast,” I said, infusing certainty into my words.

  Jakinda shared a look with Buhari. Their mouths hung open like twin caves.

  “I know it will be more difficult with Amandera following, but we’ve come this far. There is no turning back now. You said so yourself.”

  “Tazminera—” Jakinda began tentatively.

  “You’ve probably decided that it isn’t worth it to keep on now that we’ve lost so many of our company and we are being pursued by High Tazminera Amandera. You probably talked together and decided that despite your honor, your best choice was to bring me safely back to Al’Karida. Am I correct?”

  Jakinda’s look turned mulish and I let the seconds stretch.

  It was Sesay who said, “As you say, Tazminera.”

  “I have a plan to find the Teeth of the Gods and a good idea of where they may be. We’ll follow my plan, find them, and present them to the High Tazmin. If we turn back now we will all go home in disgrace. If we return with the Teeth, it will be to the thanks of the High Tazmin. I’ll be going with or without you, so if you plan to return, you should go now.”

  “We made a vow,” Jakinda said weakly.

  “I won’t hold you to it.”

  “We hold ourselves to it,” she said, although her voice denied her words.

  I bit the inside of my lip. If I were a better Tazminera they wouldn’t want to leave at all. I held my head high and said, “I am the Lesser Tazminera Tylira Nyota and I will find the Teeth of the Gods or die trying. You swore to me and now you will prove your loyalty. Enough sniffling into your waterskins. Decide now if you will follow me or go home in disgrace.”

  Behind
me Rusk grunted his approval. I glanced back at him. I was looking at everything with Ra’shara imposed over it, and it was amazing to see how the threads of the Common wove through him, even though they were so minute that I could barely make them out.

  He stood with both hands held palms up. Small birds were settling onto his palms and landing on his head. Seeing me, he smiled slightly and whistled a short, low pitched call. The birds began a flurry of responses, flitting around his head and arms in small clouds. What was he doing? He’d better hope he wasn’t feeding them our meagre supplies or he’s be hearing from me.

  I shook my head and turned back to my guards, almost leaping backwards when I saw them kneeling on the ground, swords held up across their open palms.

  “My apologies, Tazminera,” Jakinda said. “We follow where you lead.”

  Hmmm. It turned out that Rusk knew a bit about leading people after all. He hadn’t just been chosen for his pretty face—although it was pretty. So were other parts of him. I felt the blood rise in my face.

  “Good,” I said. “Then we ride towards Al’Toan.”

  “You should not ride towards the coast,” An’alepp said, making a sudden, unwelcome appearance.

  “Is the afterlife really so boring that you find it more entertaining to follow me around and interfere with my plans?” I asked her mentally.

  “The birds say that Amandera’s forces did not ride around the gap last night. They are still camped on the other side of it,” Rusk said.

  “The birds say?” I asked him, trying to block An’alepp from my mind.

  “Fool child. I have much better things to do than teach you and I would be doing them now if anyone else could take my place!” she said.

  “Did you think they call me the Prince of Hawks for my nose?” Rusk asked. I hadn’t noticed before, but his nose was prominent —almost beak-like.

  “So far, I’ve killed many people by accident and split the earth in twain,” I told An’alepp. “I don’t think you should brag about being my teacher.”

  “So, you can talk to the birds, San’lelion?” Jakinda said, awe in her voice. The eyes of my other armsmen were shining.