"Before you go, show me the corset you mentioned. You were in such a hurry last time, you did not allow me to see it." Naatos motioned toward her cloak. "At least show me now."
Amelia pulled the cloak tighter over herself. "If you catch me, then you'll see it." She needed to end this, but something held her there. It was almost as if she needed to stay.
"Then I will have my chance soon enough." Naatos leaned forward, studying her. "You seem to be embracing your Neyeb skills. Though I suppose you ended so abruptly the last time because you were not strong enough to hold the connection. Not that there is any reason to feel shame about that. It would surprise me if you could hold this for longer than before."
Amelia shifted her weight, aware of the tug and pull of his mind against hers. It was much stronger, more magnetic here. A heaviness had stolen over her.
Naatos continued to watch her, unblinking. "It shouldn't be surprising that you have such troubles, viskaro. You have had no one to guide you. No one to mold those skills. The Neyeb Council of Elders insisted you had to be raised by Neyeb. It was essential for your development and the challenges you would face. But you were instead raised by Awdawms. Next to Bealorns, they are likely the worst group to have raised you. And all those years with your elmis bound…it's remarkable you can do what you can do. Your energy and enthusiasm are remarkable, but you will soon tire."
"I think I turned out well enough," Amelia said. Where are your brothers, she asked in her mind. She focused on his eyes. The light-blue of his iris was sharp and clear with flecks of silver, cobalt, and cerulean. "It's rather hard to be raised by one's own people when they're all dead."
The intensity in Naatos's gaze flinched. A pang of woundedness rose inside him.
Amelia felt the twinge so sharply, she apologized automatically. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that it was your fault."
"It wasn't. It is a tragedy that your people died and that you know so little about them, but there are some things I can teach you. Matters of etiquette, for instance."
"Etiquette in mindreading?" Amelia raised an eyebrow. She tried once more to ask her question, but it was not answered. "Where are your brothers?" No thoughts eked out in response to her query.
"Of course there is etiquette in mindreading," Naatos continued. "For instance, one does not simply end a deep mindreading connection by blinking oneself out. One first tells the other participants that one is leaving and then mentally sends them back, not leaving until one sees that the others are no longer present. It's common courtesy."
An odd sensation crept up Amelia's back and her neck, warning her she had to go. The heaviness clung to her. No. She couldn't listen to it. It was time. "I guess I'm not courteous." She closed her eyes.
"Amelia, don't—"
The blackness surrounded her, and then the crispness of the night returned. Amelia rolled over, pushing the leaves from her hair. Next time she needed to sit before she connected. Next time she needed to plan to connect. Her head spun as if she had spent too long on a carousel. For a moment, she lay there, reorienting herself. Then she heard it: the rush of dragon wings.
There was a small clearing in the branches above her and to the side. Once again she heard the telltale whoosh of leather wings.
WroOth.
24
An Unexpected Alliance
It had been hard to take the supplies, pack them onto the bruin, saddle up the other two bruins, and leave. But Shon did. If Matthu hadn't been with him and Kepsalon hadn't assigned them this task, he would have turned back. Leaving Amelia behind and knowing that she was going to face Naatos tore out his soul. He and Matthu said hardly anything to one another as they guided the bruins out of one of New Istador's lower entrances and began their journey along the mountainside.
Kepsalon had told them that they could go straight to the eastern outpost. He had encouraged it actually, but Shon avoided the direct route. Or perhaps deep down he hoped to be drawn back into the conflict so that he had an excuse to return to Amelia. He brushed that thought aside, not wanting to consider it. No. It was foolish to go straight to a location with something so precious. Someone might be following them. So he took them on a winding course, doubling back and remaining hidden at all times.
Shon kept his head up, staring straight ahead. The bruins shambled along at an easy pace throughout the entire morning and then on into the late afternoon. They had only required one stop at noon for refreshment and now one more stop as the sun began to set. The beating of drums and the distant sound of the march only drove Shon's resolve lower.
"Do you want to keep traveling after nightfall?" Matthu asked when the sun started to set. The heaviness in the air intensified the dreariness.
Shon glanced over his shoulder. The trees obscured the mountain. What little sound of the oncoming forces they had heard had vanished. All was quiet now. No terrified cries of panic rose through the air. No smoke above the trees and mountainhead. The plan seemed to be working. The only thing they caught was the odd scent of spice. Like an overbearing mixture of cinnamon and pepper.
"When we reach the Silktam River, we'll feed and water the bruins," Shon said. "Other than that, we keep going."
Matthu nodded. He rubbed his bruin's side. "Do you think things will ever go back to the way they were?"
"The way they were?" A bitter taste filled Shon's mouth. "No. Even if by some miracle we keep the Vawtrians from their invasion and defeat Naatos, AaQar, and WroOth…we won't be able to forget."
"Then will it be good? With the Tue-Rah restored, we'll be seeing all of the other races again in time. Vawtrians. Other Awdawms, Shivennans. Bealorns. Unatos. Tiablos." Matthu fiddled with the strap on his bruin's back, his brow furrowed. "It was so simple before. It's not that I'm afraid, but how will we have to change? And will the king still be held to his vow?"
Shon did not know what to say. Every possibility faded from his mind as inadequate. King Theol's father had been one of the most aggressive of conquerors and defenders, shoring up Libysha's defenses and protecting the massive swathes of rich inland, which were to be settled as the nation expanded. He had become a legend in his lifetime, both hero and villain among his own people, depending on who told the story. But at the end of his days, he had sworn that his son would be a man of peace. Libysha would have no standing army except for the Ayamin. If they were attacked by one of the settled or roving nations, they could raise a limited force needed to defend themselves. But there could be no additional conquests. Moreover, the vow had not mentioned anything about being released if attacked by shapeshifters from another world. Always before Shon had admired King Theol's dedication to hold to these vows. Would things have been different if he had not? And more importantly, what would he do now? "Perhaps Elonumato will forgive him if he must break it," Shon said.
Matthu sighed. The bears shambled along. Their wide haunches crushed branches and leaves with each step, scraping silt and dirt off stones as they passed. "I don't know. I don't think he will. He's a man of his word."
"Even good men break vows, Matthu. Not only has the country been overrun, but the queen's and prince's lives have been threatened, and Naatos claims Amelia is his wife. King Theol may have no choice but to break the vow. Besides, it seems like it's within the spirit of the vow."
"What good will breaking it do? That's what I'm trying to figure out. Would we have fared any better if we had had a standing army? If there had been more than just the Ayamin?" Matthu scratched his head. His expression remained troubled. "Did we ever stand a chance? Could we ever stand a chance? I used to think we did. That no matter what, we Ayamin were strong enough. Even when we were on the way to Polfradon, when we thought Amelia was this big secret weapon and the Salvation of the Third Nalenth was supposed to make it all come together. I'm starting to think we never stood a chance. If we had had a bigger army, more people would have died. We're strong enough against other Awdawms, but not against shapeshifters. And what about the beast masters, the telekinetics, the element
alists, and all the rest? Were we always just going to be conquered?"
"No." That was not even a possibility. Shon ducked to avoid a hanging branch. "The king may not be able to fight. There may be no standing army at the moment, but we can fight. We can fight as individuals. We have a purpose, and we are strong."
They rode on in silence. Shon's thoughts once more drifted to Amelia and to this strange task that Kepsalon had sent them on. Part of him wondered if the weapon Kepsalon had mentioned was even real. It wouldn't have surprised him if Kepsalon had just sent them off on a quest of supposed importance simply so that they wouldn't hang around and distract Amelia. Perhaps Kepsalon had done it just to save their pride. The old Machat did like to meddle.
The moon shone through the tree branches. Birds twittered, and an owl called to its mate. All was so peaceful.
"So maybe we fight for the principle of it all. Dying on our feet rather than being enslaved." Matthu stared up into the sky. "More about the idea of freedom rather than getting to be free ourselves. We don't even have ten thousand Ayamin, and Naatos will have three times that in Vawtrians."
"You're assuming the Shivennans, Unatos, Bealorns, Tiablos, and the other Awdawms are going to side with Naatos."
"No. I just don't know how we're going to reach them in time. Plus, if there are thousands and thousands of shapeshifters here, then they could be anyone. Do anything."
Shon stiffened. He knotted the reins around his hands. "Let's not go to the worst-case scenario."
"I suppose that dying for the principle of freedom really is far better than being enslaved—at least if you die quickly. I've never really thought about dying. Not until this. Now I can't stop. Nothing is safe, and we can all make mistakes. And you know, even if Amelia stops Naatos, AaQar, and WroOth, there's still going to be thousands and thousands of Vawtrians to deal with eventually. They might all be like those three."
"Stop thinking about it, Matthu." Shon kept his gaze straight ahead, his own throat tightening. It wasn't that his brother was wrong. He was probably right. "Right now we need to focus on the task that Kepsalon gave us. From there, we focus on meeting back up with the Machat and the Ayamin."
Matthu nodded. A low sigh escaped his lips. "If I do die, I hope it's quick. It's you dying I can't handle," he muttered.
Shon pretended not to hear. He needed to get these thoughts from his own mind. They hung over him like a strength-leeching cloud. Supposedly you have a plan in all this, Elonumato, he thought. Well, I certainly can't see it. What are you doing? Are we all going to die for principles as this new age comes? Do we even matter? Is there any favor left under you? Couldn't you give me a sign? Something? If Vawtrians conquered all of the worlds, what hope would the Awdawms have? Where else could they turn?
Shon and Matthu continued on their path over the forested mountain slope. After another hour or so, they reached the banks of the Silktam River. The forest broke away a full twenty yards from the steep shores, and they now followed it, searching for a point at which to cross. The deep currents ran through, sparkling silver under the moonlight.
Suddenly the wind picked up. Shon lifted his head, his instinct warning him that something was wrong. The bruins shook their heads and grumbled. "Wait." Shon held up his hand.
A great whooshing sounded from above. Matthu's eyes widened. "Dragon."
Shon swung off the bruin and grabbed its reins, trying to turn the beast around so they could return to the forest. "WroOth." The bruin shook its head, growling at him. "Back!"
A shadow passed over the moon, a dragon form cutting across the river. Before either Shon or Matthu could respond, the dragon banked and snapped down. WroOth transformed mid-flight, returning to his state of rest. He landed on the bank closest to them, glaring. "What in the shrieking moons of Ecekom are you two doing out here?"
Matthu held his javelin at the ready. "If it's a fight you want, it's a fight you'll get."
Shon nocked an arrow to his bow. "Aim for the lungs, Matthu."
WroOth's eyes narrowed. "You both are becoming quite the nuisance, aren't you?"
"One step closer and we'll show you what a nuisance we can be." Shon tightened his grip on the bowstring, aiming for WroOth's throat.
"I don't require further proof." WroOth lifted his hands, his expression still stern. "You have convinced me of your capacity as nuisances. And please…remember…dragon." He pointed to himself. "Annoy me sufficiently, and I will impale you with your own weapons, roast you, and leave you to be devoured by your bruins." He set his arms akimbo and glanced up at the sky, his head slightly tilted. "You two shouldn't be out here. If Naatos finds you…" He removed a horn from his side and played a sharp note on it.
"Enough!" Shon shot his arrow. It pierced the horn halfway through the blast. The base of the horn shattered.
"How perfect." WroOth tossed him an irritated look before examining the horn. "I'm saving your lives, you ignorant Ayamin." He snapped the end of the arrow and cast it aside. "If Naatos finds you two, well…"
Matthu returned the glare. "You just said you were going to impale us with our own weapons. Are we supposed to believe that you mean to help us?"
"I said annoy me sufficiently and I will. And I didn't say when I would do it. Obviously, it cannot be tonight." WroOth glanced down the river, tapping his finger against his belt. "Besides, I'm not helping you. The fact that your lives are saved is inconsequential."
The waters broke as a large river dragon leaped up from the depths. It was a long creature with catfish whiskers on its broad jaws and glinting black eyes. Landing on the bank, the dragon shrunk and shifted into AaQar. His eyebrows arched when he saw Shon and Matthu. "What are these two doing here?"
"Who knows," WroOth said. He approached AaQar, turning his back to Shon and Matthu. "But it leaves us with a very serious problem."
"Not especially," AaQar said. He set his hands on his waist. "I haven't heard from Naatos in the past half hour. But it's likely he's headed this way. What must be done must be done and swiftly."
It annoyed Shon how these Vawtrians acted like they were no consequence. But perhaps they could use that to their advantage. Glancing at Matthu, he gave a slight nod toward the forest. They started to move back.
"Don't even think about leaving," AaQar said, his gaze elsewhere. He lowered his voice as he resumed speaking to WroOth. They spoke so quickly and quietly that Shon could not catch anything. AaQar set his arms akimbo and shook his head, sighing at intervals while WroOth gestured enthusiastically and at times raised his voice loud enough to say "wrong!"
Finally, AaQar lifted both hands and nodded.
"Splendid," WroOth said, now speaking at a normal volume.
AaQar folded his arms. "We have to move them."
"You'll have to move them," WroOth said. "I'll cover their tracks. Get them to the other side of the mountain."
Shon frowned. That was fairly close to being along the path they needed to take, and there would be no need to double back or hide their trail. Were they seriously considering helping Matthu and him?
"I'm confused," Matthu muttered, his hand steady on the javelin.
AaQar's eyebrows arched even higher. "You want me to carry them on my back?"
"I presume that will work better than your mouth," WroOth said.
"I was thinking your back would be preferable," AaQar said. "I will only take them as far as other side of the mountain to where the main tributary ends."
"Amelia's on this side of the mountain, most likely. Probably a ways up. Unless she's got someone else throwing around that cursed spice mix. She's spreading it in such a broad swathe and doubling around so much, it's hard to tell for certain. It's almost killed my nose. I think I'll find her faster than you. Besides, Naatos is nearby, and if he doesn't see me flying, he'll know something is wrong. We need to move those two."
"He'll still catch their scent. He's in the veldrok form," AaQar said. He sniffed the air and shook his head. "Unless his nose is dead from those spices
as well."
"I wouldn't risk it. The water will absorb what remains, and fire will absorb the rest. Besides, we don't want our little sister getting any ideas about using the river that way. She's being very troublesome. I'll cover the shores with flames." WroOth put his hand on AaQar's shoulder. "Come along then, brother. Wake up. We are almost to the end, and you look as if—"
AaQar gave him a warning glare, his eyes narrowing. "Just keep your fires under control, brother. You remember what happened the last time."
Is AaQar just going to try to kill us later? Shon readjusted his grip on the bow. His breaths remained tense. At least Amelia was still staying ahead of them.
"Put those down." AaQar waved his hand and gave them an irritated glance. "It's not as if they will do you any good."
"We're not leaving the bruins behind," Matthu said. He put his hand on his bruin's head. "So just let us go on our way."
"We aren't looking for Naatos or Amelia." Shon forced the words out. "Amelia asked that I leave. So there's no reason for any concern."
"She asked you to leave?" AaQar exchanged glances with WroOth. His frown deepened. "It won't make any difference to Naatos."
"It should. Besides, the engagement is broken off." Shon lowered his bow. While he wasn't certain that he could trust AaQar or WroOth, he realized that this might allow them to get to the weapon sooner. It was, after all, on the other side of the mountain, but they wouldn't have the bruins.
"Maybe she's more serious than we thought," WroOth said. He relaxed, his smile returning. "This does bode well. But all of that progress is for nothing if you two wind up eviscerated, eaten, or dead within the next two or three days."
Two or three days? That was significant. Shon wondered what made two days important.
AaQar stepped down into the water. It rushed up around his boots, soaking the hem of his robe. "It's unfortunate that she is coming into her mindreading skills. I don't know if we could hide your deaths sufficiently now. Otherwise this would all be far simpler."
Enemy Known Page 21
