Paladins of the Storm Lord

by Barbara Ann Wright

  And there were people crawling all over it, too, and over its satellite, making sound after sound, and beyond them, all this background radiation, the entire universe babbling and crying out and driving everyone mad.

  “Stop,” Cordelia cried. “Take it back!”

  The noise vanished just as the seams of Cordelia’s soul began to tear, and she would have gasped for breath if she’d needed it.

  “You’ll forget. I can’t.”

  Cordelia focused on Calamity and tried to get her own thoughts in order. “Are you a god?”

  “Perhaps the only one. Perhaps I’m nothing at all. Wouldn’t it be interesting if I only existed in you?”

  The thought chilled her to the bone. “So, is this what death is?”

  “Perhaps again. I had hoped it would be quieter. Would you like to stay?”

  “Um. If I’m still alive, I should be going. People to look after, you know?”

  The voice laughed, its cackle echoing through the spaces of Cordelia’s mind. She heard the babble of Calamity again, and the sound drew her downward, shouting in her ears.

  “What’s happening?”

  “Go see, little bee.”

  The giant hand flung her, and Cordelia shrieked as the surface of the planet roared toward her. She sped through clouds, watching vague shapes become forests and plains and then the city of Gale and the gathering of drushka. As she raced toward her body, she braced for an impact she could never survive.

  *

  Lazlo had known Dillon was going to kill someone. He’d read it in every line of Dillon’s body, and no amount of speaking would stop it. He kept telling himself he should knock Dillon out or at least cap his power, but part of him wanted to believe that Dillon would just forget whatever he was going to do.

  But no, he’d sent lightning hurtling toward the mayor’s niece, but Lazlo had gotten there first, healing her faster than Dillon could kill her, their power competing, keeping her on the cusp of living and dying. Dillon might have been aiming for the other paladin, the one who’d shot him, but once he started killing, it seemed he had a hard time stopping.

  The mayor’s niece hung in the air, her head thrown back, her armor throwing sparks. Somewhere in the crowd, Lazlo sensed Horace’s power helping her just as his was. Lazlo tried to reach for Dillon, to shut his power off, but a long brown root whipped through the air and knocked Dillon flat.

  The drushka circled the mayor’s niece as she fell; their weapons were up, their teeth bared. The enormous tree Lazlo had gawked at when they’d first left the city moved up behind them.

  Dillon scrambled to his feet. “What the fuck?”

  “The tree hit you.” Something Lazlo never thought he would say.

  “Do not attack Sa Ross again!” one of the drushka shouted.

  Two other paladins came forward to flank Dillon, both with railguns. “What the shit is going on?” one called. She swung her gun around as if she didn’t know who to aim at.

  “Is she dead?” Dillon asked.

  Inside the pack of drushka, Lazlo could feel her. “No.”

  Dillon still seemed angry, felt angry, and Lazlo spied the paladin he’d originally been aiming at. He was trying to draw his gun, but the drushka were holding him back. This could dissolve so quickly into a complete bloodbath. It was amazing it hadn’t already. Lazlo gathered his power, ready to knock Dillon out and carry him back to Gale if he had to. Dillon’s eyes went wide, and his mouth worked without a sound. He wiped one hand across his face as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  Lazlo gripped his arm. “Let’s go back.”

  “Get out!” Dillon cried. “Get out of my city. Take your drushka and any others you’ve corrupted, and get the hell out! If I see you, them, or any Sun-Moon worshipers again, I’ll kill every fucking one of you.” He shook Lazlo off, turned on his heel, and stalked back inside Gale.

  *

  Cordelia felt as if her skin was standing out from her body. She lay on the ground, and people were speaking, but she couldn’t quite understand them, and she didn’t know if they were speaking drushkan or if she’d forgotten how to speak Galean. Liam and Nettle were peering down at her, and when she focused on them, Liam sighed.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I understood that,” she said.

  Liam and Nettle exchanged a worried glance.

  “Sa, how do you feel?” Nettle asked.

  “Alone.” Without that titanic presence, she didn’t know another word for it. “Help me up?”

  Another man’s face appeared over Liam’s shoulder. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

  She recognized him, but the name wouldn’t come to her. She tried to get up on her own until Liam and Nettle helped her. Her armor was dead and heavy as hell with the battery pack not working. “Harold?” she asked, nodding at the man. A healer, a yafanai healer.

  “Horace.”

  She grunted at him and swayed. Several drushka reached out to steady her. “Heavy.” She started shucking her armor, and the drushka helped her, including Nettle and Shiv. As it fell away piece by piece, she was amazed by how light she felt, as if her feet could leave the ground again, but no matter how hard she willed it, she stayed put. One of Pool’s limbs touched her, and she sensed the connection of root to soil, just as every molecule in the universe was connected. The drushka gasped as one, and the branch jerked away. She’d touched something sacred, but it fled as quickly as it’d come.

  “Sa?” Nettle asked. “What has happened to you?”

  Cordelia laughed, feeling more than a little drunk. “The Storm Lord hit me with his lightning because I abandoned Gale, and he wanted to show everyone that he’s a murderer.” She pointed an unsteady finger at Horace. “Then you healed me?”

  “Not just me.” He looked over his shoulder at another man. “Simon did, too.”

  Simon stepped forward. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I took a trip, visited the universe with the copilot.” She thought for a moment. Yes, that was right. “Copilot of what I don’t know. Maybe of space.”

  Simon peered at her. “Did you say copilot?”

  Everyone else watched her cautiously as if she might burst into flame.

  “What does that mean?” Liam asked.

  Horace shrugged. “She could be delirious.”

  “Perhaps you should rest,” Nettle said.

  Simon had a tiny smile on his face. “There’s nothing wrong with her.”

  Liam frowned at him. “You healed the Storm Lord, didn’t you?” He gripped his sidearm. “I asked who you were, and you said no one.”

  Horace stepped between them. “Don’t.”

  Shiv put her arms around Liam’s chest. “If he is a shawness, you cannot kill him for mending someone.”

  “Ahya,” Nettle said, “that is what shawnessi do.” Many of the drushka murmured assent.

  Liam took his hand off his weapon, but he glared daggers until Simon started for Gale.

  Horace shifted from foot to foot. “I’ll be right back.” He ran after Simon, and Liam moved to keep both of them in sight.

  Cordelia tried to figure out what the hell was going on, but she was too tired. Oh well. Best to relax in the arms of the drushka and be happy that, for a few moments at least, no one was having a crisis, except…

  “Did the Storm Lord tell us to get out?”

  *

  Dillon tried not to stumble as he hurried toward the Yafanai Temple. Too many goddamned things had happened too quickly, and now everything was unraveling. People tried to stay out of his way, but the happy, smiling crowds were gone. They whispered as he passed now, and their eyes were downcast. They looked sad and unhappy, and why? They were still alive. He’d fucking kept them alive, and now they were afraid of him? Because he’d defended himself?

  How many of them had seen him attack Lieutenant Ross in that field? He hadn’t meant to. He’d been so angry, and he’d aimed for Carmichael’s rotten son, but she’d gotten in th
e way, and the power had just kept flooding from him. If it hadn’t been for Lazlo, he’d have killed her, and then gone for the boy, too, but the drushka had been ready for a fight.

  For a moment, he’d wanted that. He’d go down swinging with his anger burning in him, making him feel as if his scalp was sliding off. Then he’d seen Lessan moving through the crowd with such ease, as if she wasn’t even fucking there, and she hadn’t taken her dead eyes off him. Fear had turned his insides to water, and he knew that if he died while she was watching him, she would follow him to whatever afterlife might await. She would stand behind him for all eternity, vanishing whenever he looked for her, but her gaze would bore into his back forever.

  So, he’d banished them, hoping they would take her, too, but now people couldn’t even look at him, and he didn’t know if it was fright or misery, or if they were ashamed of what a coward he was to fear a dead woman.

  He swore, and several people scurried away as if he was a fucking boggin. He grabbed a passing man by the shirtfront. “Don’t be scared of me!” The man blanched and dropped to his knees, but Dillon pushed him away, disgusted.

  He thought he’d put an end to her. She hadn’t made a peep when he’d put a few million volts through Carmichael’s skull. But now here she was again. He heard her laughter echoing in his mind. “Fuck you,” he muttered. “I have better things to do than fuck around with you.” He’d get behind closed doors and then he’d deal with her, force her hand, and be done with her once and for all.

  *

  Horace caught up to Simon just inside the palisade and wondered what to say, what he could say now that it seemed they were on opposite sides. If Simon had saved the Storm Lord, it meant they still cared for each other, didn’t it? Or were the drushka right, and a healer was just a healer, no matter what?

  “Simon,” Horace said. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

  Simon smiled. “I was worried for you last night.”

  “We all had our hands full.” They stood in silence a moment before Horace asked, “Did you know? About the mayor?”

  Simon ducked his head. “I found out, yeah.”

  “I’m going with the banished people. I can’t stay and worship a murderer.”

  “You shouldn’t worship anyone. No one deserves that.”

  “Come with us.”

  Simon’s eyes lit up. “Do you mean that?” Horace grabbed his hand, thinking to tug him out of Gale, but Simon pulled up short. “I have a few things to do first, some people to heal, some to say good-bye to, but I’ll catch up.”

  The pressure in Horace’s chest eased. “I’m pretty sure I have to leave now, seeing as how the Storm Lord commanded it. Can you check on Natalya for me? I don’t think she’s as fit as she appeared.”

  “If she’ll let me near her.”

  Horace laughed and then hugged him hard before letting go. “I don’t think she’ll come with us, no matter how hard I want her to, but I want to know she’s okay.”

  Simon clung to his hands a moment longer. “I can’t promise you we’ll ever be anything more than friends, Horace. I mean, I don’t know how long it will be before I can let go of—”

  Horace nodded, so touched by the honesty that he wanted to hold Simon again, but he told himself he could respect any boundaries Simon cared to put up. “I understand. Will you be able to find us?”

  Simon grinned. “I could sense you a mile away.”

  “I’ll try to take that as a compliment.” They shared a smile as Horace backed away. “And we’ll be looking for you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Cordelia tried to listen to everyone at once, but without the power of the entity she’d spoken to, she couldn’t sort one voice from another. Maybe she hadn’t talked with anyone; maybe it had all been a dream.

  “Just because that bastard threatened us doesn’t mean we shouldn’t fight,” Liam said.

  Cordelia swayed back and forth. She shook her head, trying to clear it, but it was like thinking through cobwebs. “We should leave.”

  “He murdered my mother and your uncle, Delia. We can’t let him throw us out. This is our home!”

  And now they knew that the Storm Lord had killed both Paul and Carmichael. That her god could betray her had knocked the wind out of her before, but now there were other gods, and the Storm Lord was a human like any other. Or maybe the copilot was human, too. That made it less of a gut punch, that it was just people killing people. Now that he was on the planet, maybe the Storm Lord would die like everyone else would.

  “He’ll get his,” Cordelia said. “Innocent people could get dragged in if we fight.”

  “You’d rather leave them under the Storm Lord’s thumb?”

  “Anyone who wants to come with us can come.”

  Liam kept talking, but she stopped listening. More people had gathered at the gate, but not all of them had curious looks. Some were frightened, some hostile. And Brown and Lea had stood at the Storm Lord’s side. If Cordelia fought now, she’d be fighting her own people, never mind that she wanted to free them. “Anyone who wants to come with us can come.”

  A hand touched her back, and she turned to find Reach holding little Paul. “Your peace soothes me, Sa. If you had run to claim vengeance, I would be by your side, but I see you are right to wait.” Her gaze flicked toward the crowd, too, and Cordelia knew they were thinking the same thing.

  The need for vengeance tried to rise within her, past the feelings of being one with the whole fucking universe and the peace she’d felt through Reach’s song. The Storm Lord killed people, and he deserved to pay. Maybe there was some way to sneak up on him? No, not with the yafanai there, who might even now be reading her mind. So much had changed, why not the law?

  “The living are more important than the dead,” she said.

  The drushka muttered assent, and Pool added, “There has been enough killing today.”

  “What the hell?” Liam shouted. “Where are we supposed to go?”

  “Paul knew of other places, other peoples,” Reach said. “I will collect his papers so that you might know of them, too. And I will see what became of Blake and Katey. Now that Paul is dead, I will take them into my hands.” She turned to Pool. “And his body, Queen?”

  “Ahya, Shawness. Bring him, and we will see him returned to the soil.”

  Cordelia nodded. He would have liked that.

  “And your mother?” Shiv asked Liam. “Do you wish my mother to return her to the soil as well?”

  Liam sagged. “I can’t catch my breath. We all almost died.” He shook his head, lips pressed together. “Now I have to leave my fucking home?”

  Cordelia grabbed his shoulders and tried to think of the words to make him understand the vastness she’d seen. He wouldn’t be so frightened, then, not if he realized how small they were, or maybe that would just frighten him more. “We’ll be together.” When he started to speak again, she felt the spirit of Carmichael rise within her. “Muzzle those doubts, soldier. We have to move before another fight comes our way, so get your ass in gear.” He gawked, but she was already turning to Reach. “Take some people, and get it done.”

  Reach waved a couple of drushka over, and they raced into Gale. Cordelia turned to Nettle. “I’m going to the keep to get some things. Come with me?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Wherever you like, hunt leader.”

  “Liam, you coming?”

  His jaw tightened, and he glanced at the city again, relaxing a little when Horace started back. “This argument isn’t over.”

  “Understood.” She looked to Pool, who spread her hands.

  “Do not worry for us, Sa,” Pool said. “We will mind your new tribe as it gathers.”

  Cordelia’s mind was already racing ahead. As she walked to the keep, many people hurried over, most wanting to know if it was true that the Storm Lord had banished a group of paladins. She confirmed it and was amazed by how many people wanted to come with her. Some were afraid the boggins weren’t done
with them. Some had developed a new fear of the Storm Lord. There were rumors that the mayor’s and captain’s deaths were some kind of conspiracy, and a few people asked if both were still alive and sneaking away with her.

  She tried to reassure them that everything would be all right, but she wasn’t sure of that herself. When they asked about the Storm Lord, she told them what she knew and asked that they make up their own minds, as Paul had always encouraged her to do.

  After packing their things, she and Liam met again at the bottom of the Paladin Keep. Brown and Lea waited there, both still armed and armored. More paladins had gathered, wanting to know what was going on. She overheard whispers that she and Liam had attacked the Storm Lord, but there were others that said he struck first, or that he’d killed her and she’d come back to life. One looked at her as if she might be a god, too.

  “We’ve had a message from the temple,” Brown said. “You can’t take any armor or weapons.”

  Liam swore. “You going to make me take it off, Brown?”

  She bristled, and Cordelia caught some of the other soldiers shuffling their feet. Some hands moved toward weapons. “We’ve never fought each other before,” she said loudly. “We’re not going to start now.”

  “Fucking traitors,” someone mumbled.

  Liam turned that way, but Cordelia caught his arm. “We’re outnumbered,” she whispered. “And you don’t want to hurt them.”

  “Like hell.” But he stripped out of his armor and tossed his weapon down.

  “We’re walking you out of town,” Brown said.

  “You want to stay here, Jen?” Cordelia asked. “Jon?”

  “I’m a soldier,” Brown said with a sigh. “Nothing will change that.”

  Lea shrugged. “This is where I belong.” Many of the other soldiers murmured assent, but as they began to leave, she saw a handful toss their weapons or armor onto the pile and follow.

  Brown gave them an incredulous look but kept at Cordelia’s and Liam’s backs. “I’m sorry about your mom,” Brown said. “And your uncle. She was a good soldier, and he was a good mayor. Kept his speeches short.”