Lio? Shon half-frowned, half-smiled. The watcher he had spoken with earlier? He made his way back, picking his path out from among the milling crowds. He soon reached the watchpoint. Irasso sat next to Lio on the watcher's nook. He had his foot propped against the outcropping rock, and Lio remained motionless. On the highest point hung several garments and a blanket. "Am I intruding?" Shon asked.
"Not at all." Irasso clasped his hands over the top of his walking stick. His expression was hard to read.
Shon paused, looking to Lio. "Did you ever leave?"
Lio gave him a coy smile, but there was something distant in her eyes. "Our endurance is slightly longer than Awdawms." She returned her gaze to the horizon.
"It's beautiful up here," Irasso said. "But I doubt that's why you're here, is it, Shon?"
"King Theol charged me with rescuing Amelia," Shon said. "He told me to put together a team, and I would like you to be on it. We may be stranded in Ecekom if the Tue-Rah must be disabled and we're still on the other side."
Irasso stared in the same direction as Lio. His hand brushed hers. "You have been warned about what this means and what it will result in."
"You think we should abandon her?" Shon asked. He shifted his position, watching Irasso. Something strange had happened.
"I did not say that. I am asking if you have been warned about what this means and what it will result in."
"Yes. I've been warned. I will most likely die, and in so doing, she will be condemned to death as well. But what kind of life will she lead if I abandon her?"
"You do not need to justify it to me, Shon. If you have been warned and you have reached your decision, that is enough. You have made hard choices before. I will simply confirm to you that what you have been told is true. But if you decide that you are willing to risk your life, I will go with you."
"There is one other point to consider," Lio said. She cut her eyes to Shon. "You say that her life would be horrific if she was not to be with you. That may not necessarily be so. You say that to justify your actions and to make the choice clearer for you. But Naatos loves Amelia, and he will do all he can to make her happy. What he has promised, that there will never be another whom he will love as he loves her, is true. It is not set or prophesied that Amelia will be unhappy with him. If you go to rescue her, then do so knowing your true reasons."
Shon cleared his throat, nodding. He didn't particularly like what she was saying. "I love Amelia. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. Is that wrong?"
"No." Lio lifted her chin, that odd half-smile still there. "No, there is nothing wrong with that, and there is nothing wrong for Amelia preferring to be with you. You don't have to be the only person in the world who could make her happy. And there is no reason to add to that. Your true reasons are the best ones." She paused. A slight frown creased her forehead. "There's an eagle."
Shon followed the line of her sight. He drew back when he saw the dark outline in the sky. "Is that a Vawtrian?"
"Not unless they've taken to carrying messages. That one has a scroll in its beak."
Barely able to see the eagle, Shon had to take Lio's word. He realized then that trusting their insight was really what he disliked about the Machat. They could always see more, and sometimes he wasn't even certain that what they saw was there. It was like playing with his cousins from Nalthume. They loved teasing him about the grunaps, strange little birds that he spent hours trying to find, only to realize that they were made up. But this eagle was no grunap.
The eagle swooped down and landed on the top of the hanging garments. It cocked its red-capped head, a large scroll in its beak, tied with a bit of fabric. It twisted its head the other way and dropped on top of the garments. Shon caught the parchment as it rolled down.
"That's meant for Kepsalon, but he said you could read it," Lio said.
With one more bob of its head, the eagle flew away.
"How do you—" Shon started then shook his head. Of course they knew about it.
"Those are Kepsalon's clothes. The eagle was sent for him, but Amelia would have wanted you to see it." Irasso pulled the garments and blanket down and folded them.
Shon unwound the fabric and spread out the parchment. The eagle's beak had sliced through the cloth and a couple of the pages, but the writing and sketches were clearly visible. His heart warmed at the sight.
Amelia. It was truly from her.
She had put together diagrams, notes, ideas. She was still on their side. Everything he had felt before was justified. "If I needed confirmation…"
Something hissed behind him. Shon turned. A large snake reared up on the outer wall of the watchpoint. It was the size of a water moccasin with jet-black scales and small ridges on its blunt snout. Its eyes burned dull orange, hatred flaming as deeply and visibly as if it had been written across its head.
Lio brought up her blowgun and shot it three times with feathered darts. They glanced off the serpent's thick scales as it lunged at Shon.
Shon dodged to the side and unsheathed his sword. He brought it into position, striking the serpent in the head. It fell back. Shon struck it across the back of the neck. The blade cut deep. Blood spurted, and the severed body wreathed.
Shon lifted the snake's body with his sword, uncertain. The blood still pounded in his ears, and an unsettling sensation warned him that it was not as simple as it appeared. What sort of serpent was this? “Do you know what this is?"
"Shon, watch out!" Irasso swung his walking stick around, striking at the snake's body. Shon looked down, barely in time to see the snake's head reconnect with the body. The serpent struck at him, its jaws clamping onto the heel of his boot.
Lio leaped down, stomping her booted foot on the back of the serpent's neck.
"Hold still." Irasso slid down beside Shon, grabbed the serpent by the head, and pried its fangs from his boot. "Grab my hunting sack over there."
Shon snatched up the thick leather bag. In one swift movement, Irasso tightened his grip on the serpent's neck and lifted it up. Instead of casting it into the bag, he hesitated, staring at it. "Lio, is this what I think it is?"
Lio leaned closer. Her narrow brows knit together, and the striping along her cheeks and mouth clenched. "A sveti?"
At last something the Machat didn't know about, but this wasn't a reassuring time for them to stop being aware. Shon held the bag tight.
"Lio, take the bag from Shon. Shon, stay as far away from this as possible." Irasso pulled back as the serpent hissed, the long fangs extending and dripping with green venom.
Though Shon didn't understand, he passed the bag to Lio and stepped away. He had never been overly fond of snakes, and this one looked particularly vicious. It kept twisting and writhing as if possessed.
Lio and Irasso forced the serpent into the bag and knotted it shut. "Don't leave this spot until I return," Irasso said. He ran down the staircase, disappearing from sight.
Shon stared after Irasso. He cleaned and then sheathed his sword before he gathered up the pages. "A sveti?"
"It's a mythological Neyeb monster." Lio returned to her nook. Picking up her blowgun, she reloaded it with feathered darts. Her expression had become far more serious. "They bond to a Neyeb, drink the blood of that same Neyeb, and then hunger for the one that that Neyeb loves. Presumably Naatos formed this. It will grow each time Amelia thinks of you, and the more intense her thoughts and affection for you, the more it will grow."
"And it heals?" Shon looked back to the point it had come from. How had it even found him? He felt significantly exposed. First the eagle, now the serpent.
"Yes, and its capacity for tracking is as good as any bird of prey or hound," Lio said. She clicked her tongue. "You may need to go through the Tue-Rah just to escape this."
"And how do I kill it?" Shon glanced back at his sword. The blade had clearly not been the problem, and Lio's body weight should have snapped its spine.
"There are two ways to kill a sveti. The source of love can be d
estroyed, or the one who is loved can be destroyed. The sveti typically dies within a day after it destroys the one who is loved." Lio's brow remained furrowed. "Just wait up here. Irasso will be back soon."
"Of course." Shon restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Now Naatos was using a force of nature to keep him away from Amelia. Since he had to wait, he pored over the diagrams and notes Amelia had provided.
Irasso finally returned. He dusted his hands off. "It's been secured, and I've advised that we march on the temple as soon as possible."
"The weapon, the substance, whatever it is that you Machat have put together—would that work to destroy the sveti?" Shon asked. "Or will it die if Naatos is destroyed?"
Irasso and Lio exchanged glances. "I don't know," Irasso said at last. His expression remained grim. "But don't worry about that. Let us deal with the sveti. We'll keep it restrained here until we find a solution."
Shon agreed. He and Irasso left to continue with the preparations. A flash of movement caught the corner of Shon's eye. When he looked back, he no longer saw Lio. "Did she just jump—"
"She's probably moved positions," Irasso said. "How many are you planning to take on this special team?"
Shon spent the rest of the day planning and organizing after he delivered the message from Amelia to Kepsalon. Copies were made and passed out. There were multiple meetings with the other Ayamin. Additional Ayamin were promoted to the positions of elder commanders, and plans were made to take back both the temple and the palace. Messengers were sent out to Nalthume, Reda, and the other besieged nations to let them know that Naatos and his brothers would be occupied. Preparations for the battle continued, honing weapons, polishing armor, mending rends, and organizing plans. The maps and information that Amelia provided were quite useful, and even Vorec had to accept that she had done something good.
By the time night came, Shon felt better than he had in a long while. Winning the battle they faced was a longshot. He had no way of knowing whether they would succeed, but somehow he was at peace.
Shon dreamed of Amelia that night. Just a simple dream walking with her along a river with white flowers dotting the lush grass in all directions. She smelled like apples and roses, and she kept her hand in his, sometimes resting her head on his shoulder, sometimes smiling at him. They didn't speak because they didn't need to.
Everything was understood.
47
A Few Things About Vawtrian Ceremonies
Amelia sucked in a deep breath, bolting upright. The soft red blanket fell back, and sunlight streamed over her face. Her hand flew to her chest and she sat there, panting. Cold sweat covered her trembling body. She was in the common room of the family chambers and still on the couch. The book she had been reading lay on the low wooden table just to the right. The puma slept on the floor beside her.
"Nightmares?"
Amelia turned, still drawing rapid breaths. The dream left her with a present sense of foreboding. She had to keep reassuring herself that everything here was real, not the horrible woman.
QueQoa stood in the doorway, a large goblet in hand. He was fully dressed in tailored cobalt and black garments with gold trim. Today he had sleeves that covered his arms fully. He wore only one dagger strapped to his side, and it was a more ceremonial looking one than any of the hunting knives he'd worn before. The gold sheath had intricate carvings along the lower left portion and an elongated curve just before the hilt.
Amelia rubbed the back of her neck. "Are you already dressed for the wedding?" Her own dress was rumpled and creased. She picked off a piece of lint, focusing on the fact that this was real and not the nightmare world of only a few seconds ago.
"I am the tel avor. I must be prepared for anything the day offers. Besides, I like mornings." QueQoa took a deep drink from the goblet.
Amelia paused, realizing that WroOth was also there. He was stretched out on the other couch, sleeping, the tablet clutched in one hand. Her heart warmed. Apparently his decision to guard her had carried over even though she was fairly certain that the Imprinting had concluded.
QueQoa chuckled as he took another sip. "Obviously no one was concerned you'd be attacked in the night. He does worry about you though. They all do."
Amelia slowly shifted her position on the couch. "They can be kind when they choose to be."
"They have always been kind to me. If not for them, I would be dead. It's a frightening thing to be without parents, particularly when one is so young. The thing that you must understand, Amelia, is that when it comes to family, they will do anything to protect the ones they love." QueQoa came to sit on the couch beside her.
Amelia eyed him, uncertain if this question would be too far. "Is that why you don't question their plans?"
QueQoa tilted his head, pondering the question, his arm crooked and resting on the back of the couch. "Politics are not my strong suit. Vawtrian law has served the Vawtrians well. Vawtrians were intended to be the protectors of the sentient races in the beginning. I do not feel entirely comfortable with what my brothers have chosen, but they have demonstrated great wisdom and discretion at other times when it has been beyond my understanding." QueQoa lifted his shoulders and smiled. "Besides, can something that is purely evil show kindness and compassion? If not for them, I would have died in that cesspit. I was alone, frightened, and horrified, with only the corpses of my father, mother, brothers, and sisters for comfort. To this day, I do not know why they died and I was spared, but I tried to guard their bodies because I was not strong enough to bury them. And the predators kept coming until I had to abandon them.
"I wandered in that jungle for days. I barely knew how to shift into my first form and heal basic wounds. Eating was not so much a concern as avoiding being eaten, and I was weakening. All that kept me alive is that Vawtrians become stronger for a time when they are starving, dangerously stronger and fiercer. The beast within simply refuses to succumb, so it charges through the stores of energy and forces you through for a few days longer."
QueQoa sighed. He leaned back and then pointed at WroOth. "Anyway, that one found me. I was ecstatic. At last! Another person. I thought perhaps I had found an ally to survive in the jungle with, but I had found far more than that. He took me back to a small camp and introduced me to his brothers. I was starving and nearing death, but they gave me what food they had. There was never even a question of what I could bring to their group or if I would be able to contribute. All they told me was to eat and to sleep, and by the time I recovered my strength, they acted as if I was of their blood. Naatos and AaQar both were too young and inexperienced to be caretakers. But I learned to be a Vawtrian because of them. They taught me to shift and to heal and to hunt. And as for WroOth, we were like twins. He never taught me anything though. He's worthless when it comes to teaching." He raised his voice at the last bit, grinning.
"I have a lesson for you now," WroOth said, his eyes still closed. "If it is before eight in the morning, it is still night, and night is for sleeping."
"Morning begins with the sun's ascent, my friend." QueQoa stood and drained the last of his beverage. "It is why Elonumato created the sun."
"It is more proof of Elonumato's cruelty." WroOth wiped his hand over his face. "Why do you feel the urge to start each day when the sun is even debating if it's worth it to be up?"
Amelia stared down at her hands. There was a comfort in the room, and QueQoa's voice soothed her in particular. He looked at the brothers with nothing but admiration and brotherly affection. How could he do that, knowing what they had done? Did he even know what all they had done? And were those actions the reason that the shadow woman had said that the Vawtrians were to die?
She reached for the book and opened it, looking for sections on dreams and distance telepathy. But QueQoa cut her off and sent her hustling down the hall to another room which was essentially a massive spa chamber.
Apparently luxurious bathing was important to Vawtrians, and someone had set this up specifically for her.<
br />
Like the bath chamber in Naatos's room it was a natural grotto with streams of water pouring in, but this tub was more than thirty feet long and fifteen feet wide. Jars of oil, bars of soap, and other beauty accessories were lined along the edge. There was, however, no lock, and there were no chairs or other heavy objects Amelia could put against the door. Written instructions had been left for her, explaining that when she was finished bathing her gown was behind the second door and, if she would like assistance, they would send someone in to handle the other tasks. Otherwise, everything she needed was in the next room.
Amelia took her time bathing, avoiding looking at her scars. No matter how much she hated them, she hoped they would keep Naatos from being physically attracted to her.
As she washed with the scented oils and scrubbed her hair, she thought about the shadow woman. This was the first time that she had seen her, and her words were far more than taunts this time. They mocked and warned at once. The hot water and fragrant scents should have soothed her, yet she kept thinking about what the woman was. And if by some chance she stopped thinking about the shadow woman, the realization of her impending marriage and the possible loss of her identity agitated her even further.
Rinsing the soap from her hair, Amelia realized there were only two real options to explain the shadow woman. She might simply be a part of her own mind. That explained how the woman always spoke directly into her fears, but she was convinced from her interactions with her that this was not the case. The other alternative…a cold knot formed in the pit of Amelia's stomach as she considered this. The other alternative was that this was an actual person.
Amelia swallowed hard, her stomach twisting. This option seemed the most real. Perhaps only because her fears fed it. But still, it was there. She ducked her head beneath the waters, but it didn't push away the dark thoughts.
Enemy Known Page 45
