Season of the Dragon, page 24
“Live!” Salty sweat and tears mixed with blood and streamed down her face. She compressed Nivi’s ribs, pushing through layers of fur, blood, and bone.
“I need you, Nivi.” She pushed again as sounds returned to her like a sudden burst of thunder.
Beneath her hands, a great heave. Nivi panted, his massive tongue lolling as he sucked in precious air.
“I told you I wouldn’t leave without you,” she whispered into his blood-caked ear. Quen stroked his chest, hoping he wouldn’t be in pain from her efforts to revive him.
Nivi chirped, his eyes bleary but finding hers. Quen stroked his fur. “You are free now.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “We are both free of her.” She tugged at her ear, expecting the cuff to release. It didn’t.
Yet there were no more shocks. No crackling pulses of sky-fire.
Pelagia lay still, her eyes lifeless lenses to an empty vessel.
Chapter 17
Nivi
Nivi lived, and Pelagia lay dead. Quen released a quivering sigh. She was free of Pelagia’s grasp, but they had still to escape Qülla.
There was a hand on her shoulder. “Will he make it?” Aldewin asked.
Quen tried to speak, but her throat was tight. She swallowed and said, “He is strong.”
Nivi and Quen both pushed up. As she stood, the eyes of her Jagaru pod and the two silent women were on her, their mouths slightly open, their faces full of questions.
Mishny held her blade in a defensive position, ready to attack. “What in Vay’Nada’s bloody shadow are you?”
Quen sighed and held her hands out to her side, palms up. “I am Quen Tomo Santu di Sulmére. The same as I was when I joined you in Solia.”
“No, you bloody aren’t.” Mishny moved from a defensive to an offensive stance.
Druvna put himself between Quen and Mishny. “She’s Jagaru. ‘Member the creed, woman. Jagaru protect our own.”
Mishny looked stricken, her voice full of rage. “You’re taking her side?”
“We do no’a have time for your attitude. You can rip my arse later.”
“You’re hiding something from me, Druvna, and I don’t like it.” Mishny puffed her chest and leaned toward him.
Her bravado didn’t cow Druvna. “Like it or no, I lead this pod, and I say leave off. Let’s get our arses to the meetup with the others.”
Quen was relieved to hear Druvna mention others. Rhoji and my friends are alive.
Nivi growled at Mishny, and she stomped her foot, snarled, and flicked her blade. “I’m not afraid of you, either. I’ve skinned critters bigger’n you.”
“No one’s skinnin’ nobody,” Druvna said. “Now, the lot of you, make haste.”
Mishny grudgingly sheathed her dagger. “Mark my words, Druvna. This one’ll be the death of you.” She still looked ready to gut Quen if given half a chance.
I need to watch my back now with Mishny.
Someone called from a cell across the dungeon, “Doj’Anira.”
All stopped save for Mishny.
“Doj’Anira, please.”
Imbica.
I have good reason to leave Imbica in this cell. With Pelagia gone, no one—save for Vahgrin—was more deserving of rough justice than Imbica.
Aldewin yanked her hand. “Come. I promised our mutual friend I would get Caz and Luz out of this place. We don’t have time to help her.”
I should leave the boar’s bowel here to rot. But dammit, I’ve seen what she can do. If we have an encounter with Vahgrin, she’s our only hope of survival. “We might need her.”
Mishny groused. “You cannot be serious. She’s the one who brought you to this place.”
“You don’t yet know the half of it.” Quen glanced at her hands. The purple veining was nearly gone, but she’d never forget Imbica’s torture. “Someone find the keys.”
A strange blue light emanated from Imbica’s cell. Twisting, glowing bands encircled Imbica.
Luz jangled keys and unlocked the cell, Aldewin at her heels.
“What is that light?” Quen asked.
“Mage shackles.” Imbica sat in a cross-legged position. Her shoulders were slumped, her arms loose at her sides. She was free of bruises, cuts, or other apparent injuries, yet she looked defeated.
Druvna poked his head in by Aldewin’s side. “By Lumine’s light. What magic is this?”
Aldewin tilted his head and squinted at the blue lights as if studying them. “Tinoxian magic, straight from Māja di Menaris in Partha.”
“Can you undo it?” Quen asked.
Aldewin circled Imbica, his arms outstretched. “I’m uncertain.”
“If Pelagia set the spell, why is it still active? She’s dead. Shouldn’t all her spells, I don’t know—dissolve?” Quen asked.
Quen had asked Aldewin, but Imbica answered. “Remember what I told you, Doj’Anira. Magic is understanding. An agreement made with spirits or gods. Some promises survive death.”
Aldewin raised his eyebrows. “An elegant way to state it. You sound like an Ascended Master from a Pillar.”
Imbica stared at him dispassionately. “You know Vaya di Menaris?”
Aldewin shrugged. “Some. Healing mostly. I recognize the threads, but I’ve never seen this weave.”
“Take a stab at it,” Imbica said. It was a command, not a request.
Quen held out her arm and blocked Aldewin. She spoke to Imbica. “I despise you.”
Imbica’s tone was even, without a hint of sarcasm. “I do not blame you.”
“We have every reason to leave you behind.”
“I would if I were you.”
Quen folded her arms. “I know. But I am not you. There are four of us. Soon three more. If you try any mage tricks on us, you will die.”
Imbica nodded once.
“If Vahgrin attacks and you fail to protect us, we will end you.”
She nodded again.
“You work for me now, not the Kovan Dynasty. If you do anything against my interests, you’ll die.”
“Freedom always comes at a price,” Imbica said.
Mishny said, “This one is like the beetles that devour thukna dung. Leave her to rot.”
“I had not said I would pay the price for my freedom.” Imbica’s voice was calm. She eyed Quen, squinting as if attempting to see something far beyond her. After a few seconds, she nodded. “I vow to abide by your terms.”
Aldewin circled Imbica, his arms outstretched as if feeling the swirling magical binding. Finally, he stopped. “Aha. I see it now. Novel weave, but not as clever as she thought.” He chuckled. “I’m surprised this held you.”
Imbica blushed. “Bindings are not my forte.”
But magical combat and torture are. Reason to have you on our side.
Aldewin’s eyes closed again, and he muttered something low and inaudible. Within seconds, the glowing rings sputtered and then flashed out of existence.
Imbica rose and brushed herself off. Though she'd been naked when taken from the Palace di Soli, they’d clothed her in a pale-green rough-spun wrap-style tunic and wide-legged pants. Her face was dirty, and her hair was out of its braid and frizzy. She smoothed her hair and plucked bits of straw from it.
She slightly bowed her head to Aldewin and briefly touched her thumb to her forehead. “Je’en li, Kentaro.”
Aldewin bowed his head, touched his thumb to his forehead, and said, “Di’nira. But please, call me Aldewin. I am no Kentaro.”
Imbica narrowed her eyes at him, but she didn’t argue. “As you say. Lead, and I shall follow.”
“Finally,” Mishny said.
Mishny strained to pry the rusty sewer grate open but succeeded. “Go first, Aldewin, and make light for us.”
Druvna followed Aldewin, Caz and Luz on his heels. Quen motioned for Imbica to go next. She hasn’t earned my trust yet. I’m not about to show her my back.
“That oversized cat is not coming with us.” Mishny crossed her arms and looked ready to put a dagger through anyone who opposed her.
“He’s a powerful fighter,” Quen said.
As if he understood her, Nivi roared, showing a mouth full of pointy teeth made for ripping throats open.
“He killed a guard, remember?”
Mishny rolled her eyes. “By Lumine’s bloody fuckin’ teats! If that fur bag so much as sheds a hair in my direction, so help me—” She continued cursing and threatening, but her words faded as she slid down the ladder to the dark Qülla sewers.
Nivi squeezed through the hole and leaped into the dirty water, splashing Quen.
“Come, my friend. I want you to meet my brother.”
• • •
The night waned as Hiyadi’s first light filtered through the sewer grates overhead. They rushed to the city’s western edge, moving silently save for Nivi’s splashing.
Before long, they arrived at a tall circular grate leading to the river far below Qülla’s walls. Mishny yanked on it, but the rusty hinges held. Nivi roared at it.
“Barking at it won’t help,” Druvna said.
“It was more of a roar than a bark,” Quen said.
Mishny glared at Quen. “I expected resistance. Where are the guards?”
“Why would they put guards in a sewer?” Druvna harrumphed. “Especially when the gate has us inside the walls still.” He gave the gate a good shake, but it didn’t budge.
Imbica waddled forward, closed her eyes, and hovered her hands over the hinges. “Not to worry. Give me some room.”
Everyone backed up. Imbica wound her arms and mumbled an incantation. Quen caught the word ‘Vatra’ but couldn’t decipher Imbica’s spell.
The space between Imbica’s hands glowed. Sweat beaded her upper lip, and her face was bright red as she concentrated. Small but nearly white fireballs appeared near Imbica’s hands. She hurled them at the gate hinges, where they hovered briefly. Nivi growled at the flame. His mane puffed, his tail twitching. The rest watched in quiet awe. At last, there was a loud snap, and the grate splashed as it fell.
“Impressive,” Aldewin said.
Imbica wiped her brow. Druvna trudged through the gate and waddled toward the light at the tunnel’s end. Aldewin ushered Caz and Luz into the passageway, and Imbica followed.
“After you, Doj’Anira,” Mishny said.
Quen rounded on her. “Don’t call me that.”
“Or what? You’ll tell Druvna on me?” Her lip curled into a mocking sneer.
Quen’s core sizzled with Vatra fire. For the long weeks of riding north, Mishny had ridden her ass. It was annoying, but expected for a new Jagaru recruit. But now, Mishny was openly hostile—as if goading Quen to allow the fires of Hiyadi to consume her.
Pahpi’s voice, often a whisper in her mind, said, “Still Waters, Quen.” She breathed deeply, calling on Lumine’s peace, but they weren’t yet out of the city. We’ll have a reckoning, Mishny and I. But now isn’t the time. She ran after the others, Nivi at her heels.
Mishny laughed. “Run to Druvna, Doj’Anira.”
With each step, the air sweetened, the sour stench receding. Quen exited the tunnel at a rocky cliff above a river. The sticky air smelled of sweet grasses, earth, and fresh water. Voices below made her heart soar with hopeful anticipation. Rhoji.
She hurried down the rocky slope to her waiting friends and family. From afar, they looked none the worse for wear.
Nearly to the bottom of the hill, Caz and Luz began sprinting toward a familiar-looking woman. Tears streamed down the woman’s face as she embraced Caz and Luz.
“Your sisters, Biveta, as promised,” Aldewin said.
Biveta was the water-taxi driver who had whispered, “You have friends in Qülla.” She had an arm around each of her sisters. “The blessings of the Three to you, Aldewin. You kept your promise.”
He gave her a slight bow. “As did you.” He turned to Quen and Imbica, joining the others gathered at the embankment by the river. “Biveta helped me get the Jagaru into Qülla through the tunnels beneath the city.”
“Sounds like the Dynasty needs to tighten their security,” Imbica said.
“But that’s not your problem anymore. Is it, former Kovatha?” Mishny said.
Imbica ran her hands down her tunic to smooth it. “Yes, well, old habits die hard.”
Aldewin turned his attention back to the reunited sisters. “What will you do now?”
“We’ll return to Ginarli and continue serving Vaya di Qüira as we have our whole lives,” Biveta said.
Caz and Luz each made the crescent sign on their forehead with their thumb. Biveta pulled her long hair aside, revealing a Qüira tattoo on her neck—a triangle with three dots beneath, the symbol for the earth element. Caz and Luz each had the same mark.
Rhoji was at Quen’s side now, his arm around her. He gave her a light squeeze. “Ginarli is at the farthest tip of Suab’hora. How did you end up in Qülla?”
“About a year ago, two Kovatha came to Ginarli, searching for Doj’Anira,” Biveta said.
“A remote area for Kovatha to range,” Imbica said.
Biveta nodded and squeezed her sisters tightly.
Quen’s innards churned. “Did they say why they were looking for Doj’Anira?”
Biveta shook her head. “Took one look at the twins’ eyes and had cuffs on ‘em before we could argue.” Her voice cracked. “Hauled them from their family—home and work—like they were criminals.”
“Sounds familiar.” Shel glared at Imbica.
Quen rubbed her wrists. She’d been in chains only days before. “It makes no sense. It’s not like there’s a registry of people with bicolored eyes.”
“Agreed, Doj—I mean, Quen. It was happenstance that I came upon you,” Imbica said.
“I don’t know what such eyes have to do with anything.” Biveta wiped her face on her shoulder. “People throughout the upper Suab’Hora knew about my sisters. It may have been Altair, the Archon of Val’Qüira, who first used the term Doj’Anira. He always referred to Caz and Luz as Doj’Anira, but he meant it as an honor. He said their brown eyes were the colors of earth and their green eyes a harbinger of spring.” She smiled at them. “Both Vaya di Qüira and Vaya di Doka in one person. And they were twins. Doubly blessed.” She hugged her sisters again.
Doubly blessed. That’s what Aldewin said to me when we first met. Quen eyed him and still wasn’t used to his clean-shaven face and short, smoothly combed hair. He looked younger than when they first met. And innocent looking. Yet her gut churned at the idea that his use of the term “twice blessed” hadn’t been a coincidence.
Biveta continued. “When they took my sisters, I thought they were being taken to a place of high honor in the Exalted’s court.”
“I had assumed that as well—for Quen, I mean,” Imbica said.
Then why did you treat me like a criminal? It was a question she intended to put to Imbica at some point. Quen, too, had at first hoped Doj’Anira was a term of honor. But whatever the Dynasty truly wanted with so-called Doj’Anira, eventually, they’d figure out she was Nixan. Then being Doj’Anira, whatever it truly meant, wouldn’t have saved her from the dire fate awaiting all Nixan.
Biveta took her sister’s hands in hers. “I followed them to the capital and got work in the canals. When I found out what had befallen them, I stayed. I never gave up hope that I’d get them back.” She wiped a lone tear from Luz’s cheek. “And now, I take them home.”
“The Dynasty might search for you there,” Rhoji said. “With us, you will have safety in numbers.”
“Or make our group even more noticeable as we travel,” Imbica said.
Aldewin had untied his dappled horse from a nearby copse of trees. “He’s not much to look at, but he’ll get you there.” He helped Caz and Luz onto the horse’s back while Biveta retrieved her horse.
“May the Sister shield you in her arms,” Quen said.
Biveta kissed two fingers and then held them to the sky. “Until the Three bring us together again, the blessings of Hiyadi upon you.” She clucked her tongue, kicked her horse lightly, and galloped across the stream, Caz and Luz following behind. None of them looked back.
The Jagaru and Imbica watched for a few minutes in uncomfortable silence. Quen was glad Aldewin had helped Caz and Luz and that she had played a small part in reuniting the twins with their family. But she had many questions and was eager to have it out with him.
Druvna wasn’t about to give them time for a reunion or questioning. “Mount up, mush-brained squibs, or you might as well put your own arse in a Qülla prison cell.”
He has a good point. We’re barely outside Qülla’s walls. Answers could wait, but warm clothing could not. “Hold up. I can’t go anywhere dressed like this.” She still wore a dress of wet, torn, bloody silk. “And did no one realize we’re now an animal short?”
Mishny, atop her kopek, Boy, smirked at her. “You can ride with Aldewin. Or maybe your new friend, Imbica.”
“Actually, we’re short two mounts,” Aldewin said. “We weren’t counting on having Imbica along.”
“Then ride the hair bag, Doj’Anira, seeing how you insisted on bringing him along.” Mishny clicked her tongue and followed Druvna.
Rhoji handed her a pair of pants he’d dug out of his pack. “They’re at least long enough.”
Shel offered her a dusty pale-yellow tunic. “It’ll be tight, but better than that smelly silk rag.”
As Quen disrobed, Rhoji scowled at Aldewin. “Look away.”
Quen sighed. “Niyadi’s ass, Rhoji. The guy practically felt me up in front of the entire Conclave.”
Rhoji arched an eyebrow.
Aldewin smiled but turned his back.
The shirt was tight across her shoulders. Quen stretched, and a seam ripped. She had to hold the pants up to keep them from falling off her slim hips. “You can turn around now.”
As soon as Aldewin saw her unable to let loose of her waistband, he took off his secondary belt. It had a short, thin sword and a dagger sheathed on it. He handed the whole thing to Quen. “They’re not the best weapons, but all I could find in Qülla. Weapons are in short supply here, for some reason.”
