Teeth of the Gods (Unweaving Chronicles Book 1)

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

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

  If only I could talk to birds – or anyone other than An’alepp.

  “To a degree. They speak their paths to me and some small bits of bird twitter,” he said with a smile so charming that I wondered why anyone thought it would be safe to chain me to him. Was the High Tazmin blind? If he was, no one had mentioned it to me.

  “You should not go to Al’Toan. There is a faster way to the place you call the Ribs of Ochrand. But it is in the mountains. Head there instead,” An’alepp said, ignoring the moment I was having.

  “So you want me to go inland to the mountains instead of towards the coast so that I can get across the sea faster? Does that sound as foolish to you as it does to me?” I asked An’alepp.

  “There is a door in the mountains,” An’alepp said, and suddenly Ra’shara shifted around her to a shadowy place.

  In the middle of the shadows was a thick frame with a door inside. Both frame and door were made of metal. I could see nothing but rock around the door – not even a path.

  “You want me to trek through the mountains to find this door in the middle of nowhere?” I asked, “and then what?”

  “And then you walk through it to the islands you call the Ribs of Ochrand.”

  “I don’t think so, old woman,’ I said. “If you really want to be useful, then tell me what I should do if I think I’m falling for someone that I shouldn’t.”

  “Define shouldn’t,” she said, as I watched my armsmen cluster around Rusk with questions for the birds about the positioning of Amandera’s troops.

  “He should be my enemy. He was there when my mother died.”

  “Was she innocent?” An’alepp asked, and a half-finished string of beads appeared from nowhere in her hands. She leaned against the door and began to thread more beads on the string, one at a time.

  “She was my mother,” I said, sounding defensive.

  “You could do worse.”

  “That’s very helpful,” I said, and she shifted Ra’shara back to where we were, and stood right beside Rusk, peering at him.

  “Can you see him?” I asked. “Can you see into the real world?”

  “Only when I’m with you and only faintly. He’s a looker, I’ll grant you that, but ask yourself this one thing: Is he golden?”

  “Ummm…he’s flesh and bones,” I said, feeling myself flush. “I’m pretty certain of that after last night.”

  Her eyebrows lifted and she smirked. “Last night? Hmmm. Well, here’s the thing, girl. There are only a few people in this world –or the next - who are golden. For me, that means that they are made of honor. They’ll uphold their word. You can depend on them. You can trust that they’ll follow a straight path. If he’s like that, then sink your claws in deep and don’t let go. You won’t find another like that fast – or maybe at all. If he’s not golden…well, then do what you want. What am I, your mother?”

  “Hardly,” Amandera’s voice sang out. I leapt both in the real world and Ra’shara, scrambling towards Alsoon. Amandera smirked at An’alepp. “What are you doing to this girl to make her so skittish, ancestor?”

  An’alepp looked out into the distance and began to hum her lullaby, ignoring us.

  “I see you are guided by a woman so far distant from us that she is losing her grip on Ra’shara,” Amandera said. “As always, Tylira, you could do better.”

  “Why are you coming to me in Ra’shara. Do you think I can’t rip you apart with lightnings just because we are in the meditation?”

  Amandera’s laugh was tinkly and perfect. “Well at least she taught you the correct name for the meditation world. You shouldn’t think that you can know what I will and will not do, Tylira. Your mind is not great enough to grasp my potential. But, that aside, I am here to tell you that the High Tazmin is not pleased with your antics. He would like you before his throne. He has warned me that the protection of the swearing prevents me from stopping you, but I do not like disappointing him. I will bring you – or as much of you as I can scrape off the earth when I am finished with you – to the foot of his throne. If you’d rather come alive, then you should surrender to me immediately.”

  “I’m not tea in a pot that you can brew the way you like, Amandera,” I said.

  “Aren’t you?”

  Something in her eyes made me think of pain, and instinctively I pulled out of Ra’shara and back to the real world, leaving her behind. I was shivering, and Rusk was leaning over me with a look of concern on his face. The birds had flown and my guards were clustered around him like hens around an eagle.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “We need to go. Now,” I said. There were way too many people pulling me in every direction except the one I wanted to go, but when Rusk pulled me up to my feet, steadying me by my elbow, that was a direction I liked. Would An’alepp call him golden? He owed me nothing, but that look of concern on his face said that he might care about me. Or maybe he just didn’t want to drag a corpse around on the other end of the tether. I was going to need to get to know him more before I could decide which one it was.

  25

  Practicing Unmaking

  We stuck to the rough country along the edge of the mountains as we travelled. If we weren’t discovered we could travel along the edge of the Casnada Mountains all the way to Al’Toan, but it made for tedious, rough travel without a road or towns to purchase supplies from. My guards were adept at killing small game on the way, and Rusk spent some time with a thong of leather he took from one of the sacks and soon had a sling that took down rabbits.

  Jakinda allowed a fire the second night, but there were still no blankets, and I found myself leaning against Rusk’s warm strength and sleeping just as soundly as I had the first night. After that it was our habit to curl up with each other every night. We never said a word about it, but when night fell we were drawn together like magnets.

  On the third day we were trekking through a narrow ravine. Jakinda was far ahead scouting, Buhari and Sesay were mounted on the second elephant and just out of sight behind us. The threat of capture by Amandera felt like a thing of the past to everyone except Jakinda.

  “Have you been practicing with your lightnings?” Rusk asked me.

  “I can only connect to the Common if I meditate,” I said, “and last time Amandera was there. What if she sees me and it brings her to us here?”

  Rusk shrugged. His movements were more free now that his ribs were healing. “For the potential you have I’d say a little risk is justified.”

  “Well, even if I didn’t fear Amandera,” I said, flushing, “I would still think the risk too great. The last three times I connected to the Common I killed people who hadn’t done anything to deserve it. Last time they fell into a rip in the earth. What if I did that and Sesay or Jakinda or you were killed?”

  “What if the sun fell into the earth? What if the twin moons, Na and Shareesh, stopped shining? What if we were all a dream?” he said.

  “I’m not being silly,” I said, frowning. “These are real dangers. I don’t want to kill innocent people.”

  “I think you run more risk of killing if you don’t know what you are doing,” he said mildly. His eyes were far away as he studied the horizon. Was he thinking about how badly he wanted to be somewhere else? Or was he thinking of me? What did he think about when he thought of me?

  “Why haven’t you tried to kill me yet?” I asked. Why had I blurted that out? I’d been thinking it these past days, but to blurt it out like that... I sounded desperate.

  “Kill you?” he asked, lifting a single eyebrow and giving me his full attention.

  “My mother killed your family. I would have thought you would try to kill me. You looked so guilty when you kissed me. Like you regretted it.”

  He bit his lip and looked away, opening and closing his mouth a few times. Why did he look so guilty?

  �
�I won’t harm you,” he said. “It’s just… it’s… I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Great. I should never have said anything.

  “I’m not heartless, Rusk. I care.”

  He nodded, but wouldn’t take his eyes off the horizon.

  “I wouldn’t have killed them. Your family. I wouldn’t have.”

  He sighed. “You never know what you might do ahead of time, Tylira. Even things you think you wouldn’t do.”

  My chest felt heavy. He was never going to trust me. Not after what my mother did. He wouldn’t even look me in the eye. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword, white knuckled. If he hadn’t just promised me that he wouldn’t harm me I’d think he planned to kill me right now.

  “I don’t think you are responsible for the deaths of my family,” he said eventually.

  I let out a breath that I didn’t know I was holding. If he didn’t hold me responsible, then why was he so cold? Why wouldn’t he look me in the eye? Did he find me unappealing and my obvious attraction to him repulsive? Did he know that I was falling for him and that he couldn’t escape?

  “The spell that bound you to me was more than keeping us in this tether. If one dies, the other does as well,” I said. “And if the bond is severed before the Emperor releases us we both die, too. I’d give you your freedom if I could, Rusk.”

  “It’s not the tether that keeps me trapped.” His shoulders turned away from me even more. I was making things worse.

  “I’d give you your sisters’ safety, too. If I could. It would be my first wish,” I said. Did his shoulders sink a little at that? “Is that what entraps you if it isn’t the tether?”

  “In part.”

  “I won’t ask for anything from you that you don’t willingly give,” I said, my voice quivering a bit. So we were finally there. The place where I admitted that I knew that he knew that I was falling for him, and that I knew that he didn’t want me. Even just guessing at his rejection stung. “I…I’m not asking for you to be my lover or protector or anything that you don’t choose to be. You understand me?”

  He nodded, but he still didn’t turn to face me. I sighed. What more did he want? Whatever it was I couldn’t give it to him. I didn’t have my own freedom. I couldn’t grant him his.

  “How old are you?” I asked him, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Twenty-one,” he said.

  “That’s old, grandfather.”

  He didn’t respond to my jab. I sighed and tried a more serious topic. I’d give him something small that he wanted.

  “Maybe I will practice with the lightnings tonight. I’ll keep away from the others so that I don’t kill them by accident but you’ll just have to risk it.”

  He nodded again, still not looking at me. I scanned the ridge his eyes wouldn’t leave and I noticed a shadow above us. Was it a trick of the light? A rotting stump? It had looked like a man for a brief second, but I saw nothing now.

  What do you think, Alsoon?

  Wind moves over ears. Wind is good. Wild Girl is good.

  I smiled and patted his shoulder. Ahead I saw Jakinda standing atop a large rock waiting for us. The sun was beginning to dip close to the horizon and the smells of sage and other wilderness plants surged in the moisture that evening brought. A shallow creek flowed through the center of the ravine and brought with it clouds of insects chirping and buzzing. They had been tolerable during the day. Would they find other things to feed on at night, or would Tazminera be the main dish?

  When we arrived at Jakinda’s rock I bid Alsoon to stop. Jakinda’s head was higher and her eyes brighter than they had been in days.

  “There is a town ahead. We can trade there for supplies and blankets. Maybe a tent,” she said. “We have your coin, so there should be no problems.”

  “Good,” I said. “We could use those things. You aren’t worried about Amandera stationing men in the town?”

  She shrugged, “We’ll have to take a chance sometime or risk starving and freezing.”

  “Perhaps we could sleep in an inn tonight,” I said, longing in my voice.

  Jakinda grunted, “If we enter the town now we’ll be going in blind. We’d do better to scout it first in the morning, and even then it should be your armsmen that enter while you remain in the wilderness.”

  Buhari and Sesay caught up to us as she spoke.

  “Why should I not enter?” I asked. “My face will hardly be recognizable to villagers here.”

  “True, Tazminera,” Jakinda said, “but that general tethered to you might draw some eyes.”

  Buhari and Sesay laughed and my cheeks heated. I should have thought of that and now I looked like a fool. Perhaps I could suggest something to recover from it.

  “Well if only the three of you are going to town, then what is to stop you from going now? Rusk and I could set up camp here while you are gone.”

  “There’s not much camp to set up, Tazminera,” Jakinda said. “There can be no fire so close to people.”

  I sighed, but rallied. “I was going to practice my magic tonight.”

  My armsmen exchanged a look. Buhari looked off into the distance, and his comment seemed almost as if he was talking to himself. “A trip to purchase supplies would be perfect right now.”

  Jakinda rolled her eyes.

  “Leave the elephant and try to make yourself presentable,” she said to him. “The less attention we attract, the better.”

  Sesay and Buhari smiled as they walked past and I breathed a long, relieved sigh. Perhaps I’d win their loyalty eventually after all.

  “Shall we get to work, princess?” Rusk asked.

  “I told you before, it’s Tazminera,” I said as I stripped the load off of Alsoon and set him near the creek to drink and browse on the plants that grew near it. Buhari was already tethering the other elephant while Jakinda dug through his burdens to find a purse of coins. I tugged on the tether, pulling Rusk behind me. “This way.”

  “I’m not your horse,” he protested, but he ran out of breath to argue as we scrambled up the cluster of huge rocks Jakinda had waited on. From the vantage point you could see far down either side of the ravine and there was plenty of room for movement.

  Rusk pulled the spatha from the scabbard he’d claimed as his own and set to a flowing dance of some sort. The sword crept one way and then darted the other as he moved from one stance into another. Perhaps he had been raised in a swordsman’s version of the Silken Gardens. The tether tugged at first, but then he seemed to get the hang of moving around it and the jerks and pulls became less frequent. Perhaps the work was calming his mind from whatever had bothered him before. At least he didn’t seem afraid to look at me anymore.

  Below us the silhouettes of my armsmen set out down the ravine. Judging by the sun they should be out of the ravine before dark. Jakinda hadn’t been clear on whether they would spend the night there. Should I have pressed for a plan or was it wiser to let her lead as she saw fit?

  I settled down on the rock, my legs crisscrossed on front of me, and ignored Rusk as he practiced. I had my own meditation to enter. With hardly a second thought, Ra’shara sprang to life overlaid on the scene before me.

  “Are you about to start?” Rusk asked, lowering his sword.

  “Soon,” I said and then I allowed myself to immerse fully into the meditation, blocking the real world from my mind. More clearly than ever, the threads that wove the world stood out to my mind.

  What should I start with? If I was going to practice it should be something simple.

  An’alepp appeared before me, her arms crossed over her chest. “Where have you been? If you neglect practice you’ll be worthless to all of us.”

  What was she talking about? Was I meant to serve the ancestors? Maybe that might explain her fascination with me.

  “If you hadn’t noticed, Amandera was here last time. I don’t want her to have power over me here.”

  “Pshaw! You’re too skittish by half, girl. A little substance and cour
age would do you a world of good.”

  She thought I needed more courage? Courage was the one thing I had a lot of.

  “I need to practice,” I said pointedly, focusing on a small rock. Maybe if I unwove something small, like that…

  “I see that rock you’re staring at. Were you hoping to split the earth again?” An’alepp asked.

  I sighed dramatically. “I just want to learn to unweave in peace. Are you going to mock me the whole time?”

  An’alepp snatched the stone up. How did the old ancestor get so fast?

  “Not that way you aren’t!” She clucked her tongue. “You’ll be the death of us all, my girl. Here. Start with something human made. That’s simpler.”

  She held her palms out and then, before my eyes threads formed and spun together. The outline of a small yellow stone flickered on An’alepp’s forehead. Her heartstone! Where a moment ago had been nothing but empty space, now there was a small ball of yarn.

  I snatched it up, turning it over in my palms. She’d woven it into being, but now it looked no different than a real ball of yarn. I set it down on the ground before me, concentrated and picked out a thread, gripping it hard with my mind, and slowly working the thread back towards its source, trying to do in reverse what I’d seen her do to make it. My motions were clumsy. The thread was terribly slippery, like a fish coated in mud. I held tight, but the tighter I held, the more it slipped.

  “Use a subtle touch, girl, like you’re threading a needle, not beating a man over the head! Are you always so bull-headed?”

  Was I? I wrestled the thread, trying to concentrate on a light touch instead of being overwhelmed by the thrashing of the slippery thread. I felt hot, my muscles ached, and sweat soaked me in minutes, but my concentration remained steady as I carefully worked the slippery thread loose. Once I nearly lost hold of it again, and it took a few minutes of panting and regrouping to get a solid mental grip. After what felt like hours, the last thread holding the ball of yarn together slipped free and it vanished from sight.

  “So at least we know you can do the simplest of tasks if you are pushed,” An’alepp said with a yawn.