Amelia narrowed her eyes at him. Maybe this was where she was supposed to be all along. She didn't like it, but what did it matter what she liked?
She managed to twist her mouth free. "At least I'm not burdened with liking you all any more. I see you now for what you are. Liars. Manipulators. Murderers. I can't be guilted now."
AaQar arched his eyebrow. He pressed his fingers along the edge of her palm before at last releasing her hand. "This is serious. Tie her up. Take her back to the temple. I'll keep Naatos here. She can't cause him to lose face. If you go into my chambers, you'll find some of the Sands of Efil. Pour that into the wounds before you try to heal her. That might be enough if no venom was used. The sand on its own might be enough if it hasn't lost its potency over the years." He wrapped the bandages loosely over her hand again. "Come on. We have to hurry. Naatos will notice she's gone soon enough."
Amelia glared, bit, and kicked, but WroOth and AaQar swiftly tied her up, and then they gagged and blindfolded her. WroOth threw her over his shoulder and left.
53
Never Give Up
Shon braced himself, preparing for the worst. A great force struck him. What little air he had gathered into his lungs was crushed out. Darkness overwhelmed his mind.
Something shook him. A hand. Shon started, realizing that he was breathing again. He opened his eyes, blinking against the sunlight. Matthu cried out with relief. "You're all right!" He helped him sit up.
Shon continued to blink. He moved stiffly, wincing with the motion. "What happened?"
"The sveti just collapsed." Matthu opened the waterskin and offered it to Shon. "It was a few feet above you when it happened. The head hit you when it fell. You've been unconscious for a while." Matthu's face was pale, streaked with dirt and his eyes bloodshot. "You shouldn't have gone in like that."
Shon chuckled, but it hurt. "Where's Irasso?"
"He's talking to the other group. We didn't want to move you." Matthu patted his shoulder.
The air smelled incredible. Heather and dried grass had never been one of Shon's favorite scent combinations, but at the moment it was wondrous. Even though his lungs ached, he drew in as deep a breath as he could. He flexed his fingers, stretched his arms, and rolled his shoulders. "Looks like the upper body's functioning." He forced a smile, but he was worried. He still felt disoriented, and his concerns increased when he stood.
When he started to fall, Matthu grabbed his arm. "Hang on," he said. "Don't move too fast."
"I used to have to tell you that," Shon said. He winced with his weak laugh. The pain wasn't subsiding. Dull aches throbbed through his body. Hopefully nothing more than bad bruising.
"You should probably sit down again. You're getting paler." Matthu lowered him and then crouched beside him.
The world spun. Shon drew in a deep breath, keeping his head lowered. His frustration increased, but he knew better than to fight. Rushing any more than he had to would only put him in a worse position later. He accepted more water and leaned back against the sveti corpse. Thanking Elonumato for his survival, Shon remained silent for several minutes.
The warm wind blew stronger. The lilting voices of songbirds reached them, carried along by the wind. Above, the vultures already circled. Even if all the scavengers in all of Libysha gathered here, there would be plenty of snake to go around.
"Amelia must really love you," Matthu said. He rested his hands on his knees. "It's gotta be at least fifty feet long."
Shon nodded. It was impressive, but the sight troubled him. Irasso had said that the sveti could be destroyed in two ways. Either he had to die or Amelia's love for him had to die. She would never stop loving him, he knew that. So did that mean she had died?
No.
Shon pushed the thought from his mind and took another draw from the waterskin. Though warm, the water refreshed him.
No, she could not be dead. There had to be other ways—less common ways—or perhaps ways that the Machat didn't know about. "Would have been nice if the Machat could have foreseen this," Shon said.
Matthu shrugged. "Well, in fairness, if I were a Machat and I saw a giant mythological snake bearing down on you, Shon, I'd probably assume it was symbolic of Naatos's jealousy trying to destroy you."
"Yeah, it's a great metaphor. If only it weren't so literal."
Shon leaned his head back and stared up at the sky. Time was waning. He needed to see Amelia. Needed to know she was all right. The visions of her death began playing in his mind, vivid in their detail. The light-haired man with the cold eyes. The fearsomeness of his strength and his skill with the blade and fire. And whose children had those been?
A cold fear nibbled along the edges of his thoughts, but he ignored it. The children hadn't always been present in that sequence though they had been in most. Maybe all. Regardless, they probably didn't matter. Shon tried to recall other more specific details, but they remained indistinct.
Shon focused on his breathing and recovery. Every muscle, every thought, every breath within him demanded he return to his feet and carry on. But his training told him better. Without proper recovery, he was a liability. He looked at Matthu. The color still had not returned to his brother's face. "By the way, thanks."
Matthu avoided looking at him, ducking his head. "If you weren't so banged up, and if we weren't about to go into battle, I'd punch you in the face for being so stupid. You didn't have a chance out there without your bruin or anyone to back you up."
Shon shrugged. "I'm your commander. You have to do what I say."
"Not when you're being stupid."
Shon rubbed his forehead. The dull ache in his ribs and chest had spread into his temples, it seemed. "So…me going to face down a sveti alone is stupid, but you coming to stand beside me isn't?"
"Irasso was with me."
Shon patted his shoulder. "This is part of being an Ayamin, Matthu," he said. "We have to be ready to lay down our lives. Whenever we're called."
"It's not about laying down my life. It's about you laying down yours." Matthu crossed his arms. He set his jaw and then looked away. His voice shook slightly. "I know in my head that this is what happens. That this is the way that it is. But the thought of watching you go to your death and then seeing you die…Shon—" He paused, tears in his eyes.
"You may have to. I'm your commander."
"You're my brother first and my commander second. I don't want anything bad to happen to Amelia. I don't want her to get hurt, but I don't want you to die. I thought I could handle this. I thought it all made sense. But Father was—"
Shon stopped him, sitting up straighter. "Matthu, if I die, then so be it. But don't give up on me yet. Elonumato hasn't abandoned us yet, has He?"
"Elonumato abandoning us has nothing to do with this!" Matthu slammed his fist against the ground. "People die all the time. Death has nothing to do with Elonumato's presence or abandonment. It's just something that happens. So the fact that you survived this time, maybe it's a sign that you shouldn't—maybe—I don't know. Just do whatever you want. You will anyway, Commander." He stood and stalked away, his hands thrust deep into his pockets and his head down.
Shon remained silent, watching his brother leave. A small part of him was torn but not by much. He had to rescue Amelia. That was the reason he lived. Any life she might have in that place was worthless and horrid. He had to get her out. But Matthu didn't understand. He couldn't. He'd never loved anyone the way Shon loved Amelia.
Matthu wandered along the perimeter of the sveti, never going out of eyeshot but never looking back at Shon. Eventually he sat on a rock and started whittling a branch. Irasso returned a short time later, leading the bruins by the reins. He motioned for Matthu to come in. If he noticed the tension between the two, he said nothing. Irasso mixed up a vile scented herbal drink for Shon to relieve the stiffness and simply confirmed that the rest of the troop had gone ahead. They were two miles from the temple. The rest of the army was less than three miles away now. "I just came back
from speaking with them. We can keep going. Tira knows the secret passages and will guide them in so that the mission can continue," Irasso said. He continued to rearrange the packs on the bruins. "But we do have a problem. There's only thirteen of the lightning potion left."
"Thirteen!" Matthu exclaimed, his eyes widening. He dropped his knife. "But I only heard four go off."
"The others were damaged beyond repair," Irasso said. "They were attacked by a wandering crudon. Two of the lightning potions slipped from their protective casings and discharged when they fell on the ground. Three others were badly cracked. The lightning dispersed without anyone being injured. And the other four were crushed during the fight. And so on. We each have our packets, but they are significantly less potent. Let's pray they are enough. I did bring back two for us, in the event that we need it. Given your state, I was not certain whether you would want to continue. If you do not, then I will race ahead to return it to them."
"Of course we're going. At least I am. Matthu, I don't—"
"Of course I'm going." Matthu snapped the words, giving Shon a sharp look. He picked up his knife and took another dig into the branch. The top cracked off.
"Well, all right then." Shon pushed himself up, grimacing at the flash of increased pain. He took hold of his bruin's reins. "Let's get going."
54
Punishment
WroOth set Amelia down on the couch and removed the blindfold. "Now, little sister, you're going to behave."
Amelia glared at him. She didn't even want to see his face. Each breath she took was an insult. Each breath he took. She hated herself. She hated him. She hated everyone. Ice burned inside her, aching, throbbing, shrieking.
WroOth backed away. "It's going to be all right. You're going to be fine. Naatos really doesn't have to know about this."
Why did he even care about Naatos learning about this? She didn't.
Amelia narrowed her eyes at him. As WroOth left the room, she shook her head again, working at the gag. Her mouth was dry now, but she pushed at the bulky fabric with her tongue.
WroOth returned a few minutes later with several bottles and jars in his arms. He set them down on the low wooden table and opened them one at a time. "How many kinds of sand does he need," he muttered. "It's not as if he does sand art. I'm sure you saw some of the Machat sand art. It's one of the few things about them that I like. I don't know how they do it, but they take the sand and they paint with it. So beautiful." He uncapped another bottle and set it aside. "AaQar really isn't that good about labeling or organizing his own things though. He'll do it for everything else. Business matters. Para matters. Even family scheduling. But not his own personal belongings."
WroOth poured a little out of two bottles, then threw the sand away. He paused when he looked at his wrist. Closing his eyes, he sighed. "That bilkaz stole my Para band. Ah well. I'll get him back later." His gaze returned to Amelia.
Amelia stared back at him, wishing he could read her thoughts. She wanted him to know precisely what she was thinking.
"I know you're not yourself right now, Amelia. And I know why you did this, but after you are healed, you can never do this again, all right? Do you really think Shon would want you to be this way? For all his flaws, Shon did have good taste. And this is not who you are, and this is not what Shon would have wanted."
Several responses bolted through Amelia's mind. She finally succeeded in pushing the gag from her mouth, the knots loosening and sliding down her hair. Swallowing, she moistened her mouth. "And Mara wouldn't want you to kill all the Machat, but you won't let that stop you, will you?"
"I'd be careful about bringing Mara into this." WroOth tested another jar of sand, his tone much cooler now.
"You are right though. Shon wouldn't want me like this. And Mara wouldn't want you razing this world, killing thousands. I bet your kids wouldn't like it either. Their daddy is becoming a real monster. It isn't just a game before bed. But what do you care? The only good thing is I don't care anymore either now."
WroOth shoved the gag back in her mouth. "I don't like you this way either."
Who cared? Amelia certainly didn't. She tried to spit the gag out and work the bonds off. WroOth continued sorting through the bottles. For once, Amelia was glad that she couldn't sense anything. It probably would have been quite uncomfortable. Instead, she seethed and glared.
WroOth picked up the last bottle, a charred blue one. "Maybe this is it."
The door slammed open. "Where is she?" Naatos shouted.
It was about time. Amelia straightened herself. She would have preferred to have been unbound for this, but there was no chance of that now.
Naatos stalked into the common room, followed by AaQar. "Naatos, you should not—"
"No one else tell me what to do with my wife. No one. WroOth, AaQar, go." Naatos fixed his gaze on Amelia, his eyes hard.
WroOth set the bottle down, exchanging glances with AaQar.
AaQar stood with his hands braced on his belt, his tone sterner than before. "Naatos, I don't think you should be alone with her—"
"I said go!" Naatos bellowed.
The volume of his voice was quite impressive, but she wasn't backing down.
Naatos strode up to her, his jaw set, his shoulders tense. He crouched and removed the gloves from her hands. The fabric clung a little, the dried blood sticking to her flesh. He finished unwinding the bloody bandages and cast them aside. "Amelia…" He lowered his voice. "You have disappointed me so much. I thought I had made my reasons clear to you. What do you have to say for yourself?" He pulled the gag from her mouth.
"You did what you had to do, and I did what I had to do. It sounds so much better than you lying to me, which is what you did. I told you what my requirements were. I have made it clear to you from the beginning that you were not to hurt Shon."
"You mutilated yourself!" Naatos released her wrists. He turned and paced to the window. Reaching it, he struck his fist against the wall. He stayed there for a moment, his breaths deep. "I was clear."
"As was I." Amelia ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth to moisten it. Dry fuzzy remnants of the gag remained. She didn't take her eyes from Naatos. She hoped her gaze hurt. "I denied you nothing—"
Naatos held up his hand. "Do you still think I am only interested in your body? You cut yourself off from me, and you expect me to be grateful? Our agreement was that you give yourself fully. And yet you sever yourself from me!" Naatos glared at her.
His words enraged her, sending emotional venom surging through her veins. She glared all the harder. "Poor you," she said. "You're always the victim, aren't you? Nothing works out for you. So you have to steal and kill and lie. If you can't have it all, then why should anyone else? The only reason I suffered is because you wouldn't let me go, but I was willing to accept that. I did not complain to you. I did nothing to burden you. But you weren't strong enough to accept it."
Naatos's eyebrow arched. "I don't suggest you anger me."
"And I do not suggest you antagonize me. You broke your promise to me, viskare. You broke your vow, and you tried to hide it. I simply responded."
Naatos stared at her, his gaze fierce. The anger blazed in his eyes, tightening every muscle in his face and neck. He crossed over to her and grabbed her by the wrists. His fingers dug into her flesh. "You realize that I cannot let this go unchallenged. You have to be punished. What you did…" He shook his head. "It is almost unforgivable."
"Then what about what you did?" Amelia demanded. She resisted the urge to wince as his grip tightened. "You took advantage of my feelings to create a monster that would eat Shon alive when I had done nothing but cooperate. You tell me you'll do anything, but it's not really anything. There are so many conditions. Face it, Naatos. You may love me, but only in a small mean and demanding way."
"If that is so, then you will not suffer when you feel what I feel," Naatos said, his voice lowering. He gripped her wrists even tighter, his thumbs pressing against the still-bruise
d and cut flesh. Golden light flowed from his hands into hers, burning and rushing.
Amelia gasped and leaned forward, horrified at the intensity. Everything snapped back into brilliant focus, vivid and striking. The tension in the room wasn't just uncomfortable, it was crushing. She hadn't felt guilt for anything she had done in this brief span, but now it rushed in on her again, a filthy river choking her. But the worst was what she sensed from Naatos. His emotions tried to dominate and replace her own, condemning her and charging her as if she was the one who had erred. She gave a sharp cry, unable to contain it.
Suddenly a new sound broke through the air. War cries. Libyshan war cries.
The Ayamin and Machat! They had come!
She lifted her head.
Naatos did not release her hands. "What a surprise," he muttered. "The Ayamin and Machat are attacking. You need to understand how this works, Amelia. You do not ever, ever cut out your elmis. The natural consequences are severe enough, but I will make you suffer even more if you ever do this or anything like it again. And as for Shon, you should be very happy with yourself right now. After your betrayal, I am no longer held to our former agreement. I have no doubt your darling Shon will be among the unfortunate souls sent to their doom."
"You broke your promise first! You leave them alone. You've got enough strength. Just close up the temple. Go back to Ecekom, and I'll go with you." Amelia clenched her fists.
"Our deal is done, Amelia. Many will die today. Shon included. I'll be sure to give him your best. You do understand that means you're staying here. I would ask you to give me your word, but that doesn't mean much to me right now." Naatos stood, started to turn, and then stopped. He sighed. "You have no idea how much I hate this, Amelia, but I cannot risk your getting free and interfering." With that, he left the room.
Enemy Known Page 51
