Unfinished, page 10
Ruhid followed her, moving close behind her, and yet he was quiet.
“You don’t have to stay silent,” she said to him.
“I seem to recall you enjoying your space. I wanted to make sure that I didn’t do anything that would offend you, as the gods know that I do not want to do anything to offend the great Imogen Inaratha.”
She glanced over at him, as it seemed as if he were mocking her, but there was a playfulness to his smile, and he laughed as he said it, taking some of the sting away from the slight barb.
“Maybe the next time we spar, I won’t take it quite as easy on you.”
“I would hope you don’t. I need to be pushed. I think we all do. How else are we going to get better?”
She didn’t have an answer to that, as he was right. How else would they get better?
She moved forward carefully, looking around at the activity in the street, and though she could feel the sense of magic, she did not see anything. It was out there, though. Imogen knew that it was and knew that she would eventually have to find it.
The two of them walked through the streets, though. They both had cloaks covering their blades, but other than that, they blended in easily. She found herself enjoying the quiet company that Ruhid provided.
“Have you always been intense like this?” he asked, breaking the quiet between them.
“Yes.”
He started to smile and then laughed softly. “At least you are honest about it. Some people would deny it. They would make grand claims about how they are not nearly as intense as they seem, or perhaps try to assert that the intensity is merely a product of the environment.”
“In my homeland, if you want to progress, you must prove yourself. Everything is a test, and so you learn to challenge yourself.”
“I can’t imagine what that’s like.”
“I suspect it sounds worse than it is.”
“No,” he said. “I suspect it sounds exactly as it is. But there’s no shame in that, either.”
He paused at the market, where he wandered through, pointing out flowers that were native, sculptures that had significance around here, and even motioning to people he knew. He was calm, quiet, and there was a certain dignity to him.
It was late by the time she started to feel the influence of magic, and she motioned to him, indicating that she was going to go after it.
He looked around before he paused and turned to look along the street. “I suppose I won’t be able to chase you where you are going.”
“Not easily,” she said.
“Very well. Then may I say be safe? And good luck. And if you need anything…”
Imogen smiled at him, as there was nothing that she would need, she knew, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. She separated from him and then scrambled toward a nearby rooftop, which she climbed onto, and then disappeared.
It didn’t take long for her to track down the sense of magic that she had detected. A sorcerer, as she had suspected, along with the soldier that provided protection. Imogen trailed after them, waiting for any sign of the dangerous enchantment. She saw none. When she picked up on more magic, she shifted course, making her way that way until she found the source of it. Again there was no evidence of the danger. No evidence of the hyadan. Imogen didn’t give up, though. She kept moving. She would find them. That was her purpose. That was her bond quest. And she would not fail.
Even if those whom she trained did not understand. None of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was fulfilling a bond quest. Do that, and then she could return.
Chapter Eleven
The air stank of smoke. They had passed through three villages, where they had found charred remains of buildings, along with dead Leier, though there had been some stragglers who had joined her. Enough that they had begun to fortify their numbers even more, but most of the people whom they had rescued had no idea about what they had faced or what had happened. There had been explosions, and attacks by creatures—which Imogen thought were enchantments—and then it had been over.
It seemed to Imogen that this wasn’t even a targeted type of attack. It was as if the creatures had not known what they were doing, only focusing on the villages themselves and not at all trying to destroy the people within them. There were far too many sword masters who remained, though quite a few were older, along with some of the younger ones who had not yet progressed beyond Third or Second.
Imogen took all of them in, wanting to help her people as much as possible. She knew that the more blades they added to the fighters, the easier the time they would have.
The challenge came when others wanted to come with them.
“We aren’t going to be able to protect them all,” Jorend whispered, looking out at the remains of one village that they had come across. There had been nearly two thousand people here, and all who had survived intended to join Imogen. “We don’t have supplies.”
“We have to find a way to protect them,” she said.
“We don’t—”
“Would you abandon your people?” This came from Eleanor, who stood with her hands on her hips, the silver necklace that she wore gleaming in the faint daylight. The threat of storms had retreated, but it remained ever present, giving Imogen the thought that they would be drenched, though the rain itself never came.
“I’m not abandoning anything,” Jorend said, drawing himself up and turning to look at her. “I’m only suggesting that we can’t offer that level of protection to all who want it. It will be too challenging for us to do so. We can try, but how are we to hold on to all of them?”
“We save as many as we can,” Imogen said. “I will leave the two of you to work it out.”
Jorend looked as if he wanted to argue, but Imogen strode away. She found herself on a small rise, looking down at the nearest village. Several of her Leier and Koral were picking through it, looking for anything that could be useful on the journey, though it had to be light enough that it could be carried. Food supplies were valued, as were scraps of cloth that could be repurposed. The weather was not terribly cold yet, but if they had to head up into the mountains again, they would need to dress for the conditions. And Imogen had no idea in which direction these attacks would push them, but she suspected that they intended to push them in some direction.
She stood for a moment, rocking in place, feeling the pressure of the wind. Imogen tried to listen to it, thinking about what Benji had wanted her to know, and wondering if perhaps she might be able to use that. She hadn’t heard him in quite some time and had started to feel that perhaps she would no longer hear him talking to her. She didn’t know if she had angered him in some way, though she didn’t think so.
“You’re out there, somewhere,” she said, speaking to the wind.
Imogen no longer felt foolish talking like this. She didn’t feel Benji in her the way that she once had, though maybe he was still there. He had gifted her power, so she believed that he still wanted her to find a way to reach him.
He was magic. He was Porapeth.
But what was she?
Something tied to the Porapeth. That was what Master Liu had said, and that was what Imogen had found herself holding on to, feeling she needed to do so.
She breathed out a sigh. “My people are still suffering, Benji. I don’t know what Master Liu intends to do, or how he thinks that finding other sacred sword masters will make a difference, but I need a Porapeth to guide me.”
She stared off into the distance, watching the smoke swirling in front of her, feeling for any sense of energy that might be there, but not finding any answer.
“Come on, Benji. You tormented me for as long as you did, and now, when I need you, you won’t even answer?”
The wind switched directions. It happened suddenly, and the smoke that was swirling from the nearby village began to shift. It blew toward her, spiraling and swirling in such a way that it seemed to take on a shape.
Not just seemed to take on a shape. It did take on a shape.
For a moment, the smoke was little more than wisps, but then it gradually resolved into a figure that stood across from her—or rather, floated across from her.
“Benji,” she said, tipping her head to him. “You look taller in this form.”
She felt laughter. It was thin and wispy, and it seemed to come from the wind, as well as some place inside her mind. Maybe that was all it was. Imogen still didn’t know how much of her experience with Benji was imagined and how much was real. She had told Abigail that Benji had survived in some manner, and that some part of him remained, but she wasn’t even sure if what she had shared with Abigail was accurate. It remained possible that Benji was nothing more than a figment of her imagination, and the guidance that he offered came from her own mind rather than from some external Porapeth magic.
“There you are, First. You know, you’ve been hard to reach. I’ve been trying to speak to you, but you are so stubborn that you don’t want to listen.”
Imogen frowned. “I’ve been stubborn? I’ve been trying to get your attention, trying to call to you, but you have not answered me.”
“I’ve been preoccupied. There are certain things that I must do in this form that I could not do before. It’s all quite fascinating. I’m sure you understand.”
“I’m sure that I don’t understand,” Imogen said. “But thank you for coming now.”
“Do you think I need your flattery, First?”
“I figured it couldn’t hurt. You always did enjoy a little flattery.”
“I enjoyed it when you told me the truth. I don’t need to have you tossing shit at me and telling me that it’s gold.”
She smiled. “I would never dream of it.”
“Oh, you would dream of it. But I don’t know that it would take hold. Not like this.” He spread his hands out, and the smoke started to swirl again, as if he was trying to master it but was failing. “I’m finding that it is a bit more difficult than I expected to maintain this.” He seemed to frown, though it was difficult for Imogen to tell. “My hold has become a bit more diffuse. I’m not sure what to make of it.”
“Are you going to lose your ability to influence?”
“I can’t say. This is my first time dying.”
Imogen found herself smiling. “Magic doesn’t disappear, does it?”
“What do you think, First?”
“Well, I think you told me that you were magic, but I also think that if you were magic, you would have been able to avoid dying.”
“All things die, First. That is a way of the world. To think otherwise is to believe yourself above the world itself.” He started to whirl with more of the smoke around him. “And perhaps that’s the way that I should be thinking about it. Maybe what I should be looking at is how I can become something greater than just a star in the sky. I don’t need to be worshipped by the Leier. I need to have all people celebrating the great Benji the Elder.”
“I’m sure that all people would have celebrated you if they had known you, but the great Benji the Elder kept to himself. All the Porapeth kept to themselves.”
“You sound so disappointed, First. But now you are changing things. Shouldn’t you be pleased?”
“I’m not changing anything.”
“You are changing what was into what you want it to be.”
The way that he said this suggested something more, and Imogen hesitated. “Are you saying that I’m more like Abigail?”
“Who is to say? I used to think that we shouldn’t influence, but then at the end of my days, I can’t deny that I might’ve had a hand in which path you chose to take.”
“You might have?”
“You still had to make a choice, First. And I didn’t always push you. Sometimes I nudged.”
“What can you tell me about what we are facing? Is Timo involved?”
“What do you think, First?”
“I think that ever since I left Yoran, my brother has been involved. For good and bad.”
“Has there been good?”
Imogen wanted to challenge Benji and tell him that there had been some good, but had there? In the time that she had been traveling with Benji, and trying to help Timo, she had found that her brother had tried to kill a Porapeth, had tried to kill a branox queen, and then had attempted to kill the sacred sword masters. Maybe the real answer was that she should be surprised if Timo did any good.
“He wasn’t acting alone,” Imogen said. “There were others. Sul’toral.”
“Very good.”
“And I don’t know what Master Liu intends to do by chasing down the other sword masters.” Imogen wasn’t sure if there were any sacred sword masters who remained, but she understood that Master Liu needed to look. “But that may be useful.”
“He passed on the title to you, First. Or maybe I should say Master Inaratha.”
“Imogen is fine,” she said.
She felt Benji laughing. It was a strange thing to be aware of. It wasn’t that she heard him, or that she could even see him, so much as it was that she felt him. It was like the wind stuttering, carrying some of that sound, and some of the feeling, of his amusement.
“What do you intend to do?”
“I intend to do what I’ve planned on doing all along,” she said.
“Which is what?”
“Gather the Leier.”
“Is it only the Leier?”
She frowned. From where she stood, she could see smoke from the nearest village, and she was reminded of the smoke from the other villages that they had visited, smoke that was all too fresh in her mind. The Leier had suffered. But maybe it wasn’t only the Leier. That was what Benji was trying to tell her.
“Have they been targeting the Koral as well?” Imogen asked.
“Do you think the sword is all that different from the shield?”
“No.”
“Then you must find that answer as well, First.”
The wind picked up, and as it gusted, there seemed to be a different message on it, as if the wind was trying to tell her something more, guiding her somewhere else. She listened, but Imogen didn’t know where it tried to take her.
When she looked back, the form that Benji had taken was gone.
“Benji?”
She could hear him, but it sounded more like a whisper, dim and quiet in the back of her mind. Maybe that was what he had always been, and Imogen pulled him forward, forcing the connection. Maybe Benji no longer wanted that connection.
It was magic. He had died. And now she was preventing him from having whatever existence he was supposed to have beyond his corporeal form.
Imogen stared for a little while longer, watching the ground, feeling a certain energy that was there, but she didn’t have any answers. And that was what plagued her, though perhaps it should not.
When she finally tore her gaze away, she jumped down from the rock and picked her way over to where Jorend was working with Eleanor. At least now they were coordinating as they were supposed to.
Jorend glanced over at Imogen, then at where she’d been standing, and he frowned. “Did you come up with anything?”
“Why don’t you just ask her the question that you want to ask?” Eleanor said. “You are always so careful.” She turned to Imogen. “Is that how all of you Leier are? You dance around topics, afraid to ask the obvious question rather than just coming out and saying it?”
“Well, yes,” Imogen said.
Eleanor snorted, and she tugged on her tight bun, wrapping the enchantment that she had woven around her hair ever tighter into it. “I find it easier just to say what’s on my mind bluntly.”
“Maybe that’s why the Koral have fought with the Leier for as long as they have,” Jorend said.
“Or maybe it’s because you were too foolish to recognize that we had something that we could offer you. But no. You have always believed that it was just your blade, and nothing else, that mattered.” She snorted. “Well? Did he talk to you? That’s what you were doing, after all. That’s what you always do when you go off and moon about for a bit.”
Imogen found herself smiling, and she glanced over at Jorend, who frowned deeply.
“Is that what you were doing?” he asked.
“I was hoping that he might have some advice for me, yes,” she said. “But the problem is that I don’t know what that advice might be. I don’t even know how much Benji actually speaks to me.”
“Does he talk?” Eleanor asked.
“He talks, but some of it may be in my head.”
“Just because you can’t hear him out loud doesn’t mean that it’s not real.” Eleanor glanced up at the sky. It was still light, but cloudy, so it was difficult to see much of the sky, but she stared. “He is one of the Porapeth. Of course what you see and hear from him is going to be something other than what you can understand. It’s going to be something other than what any of us can understand. But you need to listen.”
“I do listen. Sometimes I just don’t know what he’s trying to tell me.”
She had started to turn away when a shout rang out from behind her.
Imogen immediately shot upward. She used Lightning Strikes in the Storm and rose as quickly as she could before switching to Petals on the Wind. She was not the only one who did this, though. Jorend was there. A dark shape began to appear, and she saw Eleanor seated atop a renral enchantment, surging toward them.
She shot Imogen a look of satisfaction. “I saw the two of you sneak off the last time, and I’m not going to be left behind.”
“We aren’t trying to leave anyone behind,” Imogen said. “We are only taking a look.”
And from here, she saw the source of the commotion.
Strange boulders had come to life and targeted the front line of the Leier. The Koral shamans had already begun to work, creating a magical buffer that helped.
Imogen looked over at Jorend. “Are you ready to battle?”
“You don’t want to let them take care of it on their own?”
