“Then it's hopeless. He never lets me into the room to work with the stones without being there himself.”
“I never said it would be easy. It is likely you will fail and pay a heavy price.”
“Okay, let’s say my companions and I simply escape the Nexus, instead of breaking any heart stones, so I’m not there to be his proxy in breaking the spell binding him. Knowing what he now knows and with the heart stones at his command, will he be able to break free on his own?”
“Within a few years, I should think. With the ability to rewrite the laws of magic, he will not need you.”
He sighed with defeat. “Okay, so I have to destroy a stone. But the moment I make a move against him, Gyoroe will kill Enashoma. Although, now that she has Nāa inside, he may use the chain to keep her from escaping the Nexus with us.”
“That is exactly what he will do, since she is more useful to him alive than dead. And he must not have access to Nāa's power. When you act against him, you can free her by using his true name, Gyo Roe Syrra, along with the spell of bondage-breaking. Unlike his other names, you will be able to speak that one aloud.”
“I have never heard of that spell before.”
She touched his forehead, and a thought wormed its way through his brain. Then suddenly, he knew the spell perfectly, as if he had spent years studying it. And it wasn’t difficult to cast, though it did require a great deal of power.
“Could you teach me a few more spells that way? Perhaps a spell Gyoroe would never expect? That might give me a momentary advantage against him.”
She shook her head. “Teaching you more spells is too risky. Your only advantage is that he does not think you can defeat him. Knowing that you communicated with me could ruin that.”
“That’s really not much of an advantage.”
“You were doomed from the start,” Nalsyrra said. “Hannya should never have taken you into the Nexus.”
Turesobei sighed with an air of defeat. “I will do the best I can.”
“I wish you luck, Chonda Turesobei, for your sake as well as that of the world.”
Nalsyrra gazed up at the new stars, the descending ships. Her mood shifted, and she smiled broadly, exposing her sharpened teeth. “It is for them that I guide, as best as I can, the course of the Kaiaru and all humanity. I must make the planet ready for them.”
“But those are the Kaiaru coming to earth now…here in the past,” he responded in confusion. “How can you make the earth ready for them a second time?”
With a frown, Nalsyrra looked upon him as if he were nothing more than a babe with no experience of the world. “Obviously, they will come again, and when they do, they will judge me on the quality of the world they find here.” She shot him a threatening look. “Do try not to ruin my great work.”
Fantastic. She was just as nuts as Gyoroe.
“Nalsyrra was always scheming,” Lu Bei had told him once, “with plans that stretched out centuries.”
Turesobei nervously combed his fingers through his hair. Maybe him and Hannya being in the Nexus and confronting Gyo was actually part of Nalsyrra’s great plan to ready the earth for the second coming of the star ships. If so, the only question was which outcome she favored.
He shook his head. It didn’t matter. She had given him a way to combat the Blood King. All he could do was try it and hope for the best.
Suddenly, a force like a strong tide dragging a swimmer out into the sea gripped Turesobei. As he stumbled under a wave of intense vertigo and pain, Nalsyrra disappeared.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Though it was early in the evening, the single lantern in Enashoma’s room burned low. The tea bowls were empty. The plate of biscuits and berries held only crumbs.
She snuggled into Zaiporo’s arms. “This is nice.”
He muttered an agreement.
“I missed this so much.”
Again he muttered an agreement.
She stroked a hand across his face. “The kavaru still bothers you, doesn’t it?”
“I’m trying.”
“I know, and I appreciate it. I’m sorry I have to spend so much time studying and meditating.”
“I understand. And I’m glad you’re becoming a wizard. You deserve the opportunity. It’s just… never mind.”
“The time I spend meditating and talking with Nāa bothers you, doesn’t it?”
He nodded so slightly that she couldn’t see it, but she felt it.
“I have to. Lord Gyoroe wants me to figure out how he came back. Nāa also helps me with my studies.” She regretted lying about the last part, but she couldn’t tell anyone he was teaching her how to fully use the Maker’s Brush.
“I know,” he grumbled.
She ran her fingers down along his arm to the stump several inches above his wrist. Thanks to the clean cut and the Blood King’s magic, the stump was smoothly rounded on the end with no visible scar tissue.
“Does it still hurt?” she asked. He had been suffering from phantom pain ever since he woke up after the injury.
“Not anymore,” he said hesitantly. “Lady Hannya went into my mind and erased the pain.”
Enashoma sat up and slapped him on the shoulder. “You let Hannya into your mind?! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It wasn’t a big deal, and you were busy.”
“When did she do it?”
“Last night.”
“What exactly did she do?”
“She made me meditate for about an hour in the Training Hall. It was completely dark in there. Then she put her hands on my temples and…I felt this presence in my mind…and it was…well, it was sort of like when you’re trying to recall a name or a song, but you can’t quite get it off your tongue. After a few minutes, everything went fuzzy, and I felt sick. Then I blacked out. When I came to, I was lying in my bed, and the pain was gone.”
“Did she say anything during the procedure?”
“She just told me to relax.” He shrugged. “I guess she could’ve cast a spell or done something sinister after I blacked out. But if she did, I don’t feel any different now.”
“All your memories and feelings…everything’s normal? You’re not angry or confused?”
“No more than usual. As far as I can tell.” He sighed. “Sorry I didn’t consult you beforehand. I know it was kind of impulsive.”
Kind of? That was an overstatement. She tried to keep the hurt and worry out of her voice, and luckily the darkened roomed hid her facial expressions well. This was partly her fault, though, for not spending enough time with him. Given how distant she had been recently, and the strange feelings she had toward Nāa, it almost seemed fair.
“If it would make you feel better, I could get Turesobei to examine my brain,” Zaiporo said. “He could figure out if she did anything weird, right?”
“Probably.” She hated to bother Turesobei. “He’s got so much to deal with, though. Awasa could probably do it.”
Zaiporo cringed. “I trust her. But she’s the last person I want poking around in my mind. I don’t want any Warlock leaking over.”
“I think,” Enashoma said nervously, “that I could do it.”
“You don’t sound confident.”
“Well, I’ve never tried the technique before, and I haven’t directly studied it. I know the principles and the mudras I would need. Basically, I’d be winging it.”
“So it’s too risky?”
"I’m not so much worried that I’d screw it up. I’m more worried that I don’t know what to look for. I only know the most basic spells.”
“But you could see if something was really wrong, right?”
“Maybe?” She shrugged. “You know, I’m sure it’s fine. We can get Turesobei to look once he has time.”
Zaiporo half-chuckled. “You’re not going to relax until you know for sure, are you?”
She sighed. “Probably not.”
“Then give it a try. I don’t want you to worry.”
He had seemed
confident at first, but now he was lying. Her concern about Hannya fiddling with his mind must have scared him. What the heck was he thinking? He should’ve known better. But then…maybe the phantom pain had been far worse than he was letting on. Maybe it was hurting so bad he couldn’t take it anymore.
The kavaru’s pulse spiked, and a thought tingled deep within her mind. “Oh, Nāa could help me with the spell. He’d know what to look for, and since he sees what I see….”
Zaiporo’s entire body stiffened beside her. Then he released a sigh of frustration. “Fine, do it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Just do it already.”
Enashoma stood up from the sleeping mat and moved a few feet away. She crossed her legs and drew her fingers into mudras. Her breathing was plenty deep, but her mind wasn’t calm. She tried to picture the lavender field, but couldn’t manage it.
Screw it. She’d just communicate directly. She opened her mind to the kavaru, and Nāa spoke to her.
“I’m glad I can’t remember being a teenager in love.”
“You’re certainly not missing out,” Enashoma responded telepathically. “I assume you heard everything….”
“Yes, and the procedure is simple enough. I can talk you through it. And if Hannya did anything to him, I should be able to tell.”
It was weird to hear his voice and not see him. It was kind of like talking to someone in another room, only she could hear him perfectly.
Over the next half hour, Nāa detailed everything she should do, which was a good thing, because the methods she had planned to use were neither the safest nor most effective ones.
“I can do it,” she said to Zaiporo. “But you must allow me in explicitly, with no reservations. Hannya could access your mind even if you had doubts and were scared. She might could even do it if you resisted. I cannot. You have to be accepting.”
Zaiporo knelt across from her. “I trust you, Shoma.”
“First, I’m going to enter your surface thoughts, so it would be best not to think of anything.”
“That’s impossible.”
“What I mean is don’t focus on anything in particular. Just let thoughts drift by. After observing your mind at the surface level, I will have to delve beyond your memories and subconscious thoughts to access your primal mind. The whole process should only take a few minutes.”
“Okay. I’m ready.”
Enashoma adopted a telepathic-channeling mudra with her right hand, chanted a rudimentary spell, then placed two fingertips from her left hand onto his forehead. She focused her energy…then entered his surface thoughts.
Zaiporo thought about her…the lantern on the right wall…Nāa…food…the lantern…the cold floor…her fingertips on his forehead…Hannya…Nāa…love…her curves…her fingertips…the lantern.
She looked around and didn’t see anything unusual. But if anything were wrong at this level, it probably would have been obvious in his behavior.
“Everything looks fine from here, Nāa said. “Let’s probe deeper.
Enashoma shifted the fingers of her right hand into a slightly different mudra and spoke another phrase. Focusing on nothing in particular, they delved through multiple layers of thought and memory and sped through the turmoil of his emotions. No traces of magic nor abnormalities appeared.
Finally, they entered the most primal part of his mind, where everyone’s survival instincts and basic emotions were hardwired. According to Nāa, if Hannya was going to alter Zaiporo in some devious manner, this is where she would do it, so that when the moment arrived, her programming would override his emotions and intentions.
Enashoma scanned, but didn’t sense anything unusual. All she encountered were the intense, primal urges she had expected to face, many of them embarrassingly centered on her.
But then something unexpected happened.
Enashoma found herself in spirit form, standing in the midst of a large cavern dominated by shadows. The few torches within the room revealed the edge of a crowd of zaboko clad in wicker armor, wearing wide-brimmed helmets and bearing hammers and spears. Based on the shuffles in the darkness, the crowd numbered hundreds, perhaps thousands.
Enashoma stood in a torchlit clearing between them and a wide stalagmite that rose twenty-feet up into the high cavern. On top of the stalagmite was a throne of bones, and upon that throne sat a shadowy, female figure. A terrible force radiated from her. It was so intense that Enashoma began to tremble. There was something in the woman's power that reminded her of Hannya…something…dragon-like.
With fear etched upon his face, Zaiporo appeared ghostly beside her.
“Shoma, what is this? What’s going on?”
“You don’t know?” Enashoma asked.
He shook his head. “How did we get here?”
“We’re in a spirit location. Like the lavender field where I go to train with Nāa. Only this is within your mind.”
“I’ve never seen this place before,” Zaiporo said. “And I don’t think I’ve dreamed of it either. Why are we here?”
Enashoma shrugged. “No idea.”
“You have stumbled into an implanted memory,” Nāa said, appearing beside them. “It is most likely a message. Though not one for us, I think.”
Zaiporo stepped around Enashoma to stand face-to-face with Nāa. He had never seen Nāa before and knew his appearance only by the intentionally vague descriptions Enashoma had given, descriptions that left out Nāa’s beauty. Zaiporo scowled, then turned narrow eyes upon Enashoma. He started to say something—
But then the crowd parted as Hannya swept into the cavern.
“What did you do?” Enashoma asked her.
Hannya made no response.
Leaving aside whatever he was going to say about Nāa, Zaiporo stormed up to Hannya. “You tricked me!”
Again she didn’t respond.
“It is no use,” Nāa said. “She is not actually here. She is merely part of the implanted memory.”
Hannya bowed before the shadowy woman on the throne.
“Dearest sister, long has it been since last we met…back when we were still enemies. Let those days be gone and show kindness to those I have sent before you. Behold, the Crown of Erendai, returned to you at last! Let the long war between us end.”
Hannya fell upon both knees and touched her forehead to the floor. “Dearest sister, forgive them, if not me, and let them pass.”
The scene flickered, and Hannya disappeared. But the torchlit chamber, Hannya’s shadowy sister, and the zaboko crowd remained.
Zaiporo’s eyes went suddenly wide, and he paled in fear. “Have…have you seen their markings?”
Enashoma stepped toward the crowd, then saw the dark, tiger-stripe markings on the skin of all the zaboko warriors. But those stripes were not mere tattoos. They were a sign of blessing given to the chosen of Queen Mekazi of the Keshuno, the Shadow Dragon and the reputed mother of the zaboko race. Only Nazyraga, Lord of Monsters, was feared more than Mekazi Keshuno. Buried deep within the hardscrabble Pale Wastes, hers was the only nation of free zaboko. And her people were fierce and warlike. They were fanatical in their devotion to their queen and in their hatred of the baojendari and k’chasa races.
Zaiporo spun around and bowed before her.
“It’s only an image,” Enashoma said.
“It does not matter,” Zaiporo said. “She is the mother of all my people. I must honor her.”
“But you’ve never even spoken about her before.”
“Knowledge of her, what little we normal zaboko have, is passed down through each generation, from parents to children. In whispers only, so that the baojendari masters will not hear, and because more than the baojendari, more than anything else, we fear her.”
Hannya again swept into the chamber and bowed before the throne. “Dearest sister, long has it been since last we met….”
“The message is repeating,” Enashoma said.
“Mekazi, eh?” Nāa said. “I do not recall e
ver seeing her, but of course, I know her name. She must have survived the Catastrophe, when earthquakes plunged most of the continent of Okoro into the ocean, which means she has been here for a long time.”
Zaiporo stood. He was trembling. He glanced back up to the throne and shivered. “Why would Hannya bury this message deep within me? And what crown is she talking about?”
Enashoma touched the circlet on her head that held the amethyst kavaru in place. “This one, perhaps?”
Zaiporo scanned the crowd and again glanced at the throne. “Does she…does she think we’re going to end up here in—”
“Shoma, we must leave now!” Nāa said, interrupting him. “The Blood King has ghosted into the past.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“I am certain,” he replied. “I felt a massive surge of energy through my kavaru and the heart stones…and I can hear them vibrating in harmony.”
“It would’ve been nice if Turesobei had warned us,” Enashoma said.
“He may not have expected to do it today,” Nāa said. “Come, we must begin at once.”
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Enashoma leapt to her feet in the real world. She reached under her sleeping mat and pulled out the Maker’s Brush. Then she grabbed a pot of dark-iron ink. Why did Turesobei have to go off and help the Blood King ghost into the past without letting anyone know?
As she headed toward the door, Zaiporo grabbed her arm. “Shoma, what in Torment’s going on?!” His hand was shaking.
“I’m sorry, Zai. I know there’s a lot we need to talk about. But I’ve got to go. I’ll explain later. I promise.”
“You keep telling me you’re sorry.”
“Because I am.”
“You’re doing something dangerous, aren’t you?”
“And super important.” She put her hands on his broad chest. “And it’s something only I can do.”
“But Shoma—”
“If I get caught, I’ll be punished—severely. I don’t want anyone else to suffer because of me.”
“If you’re sure there’s nothing I can do….”
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