Gambit of the Gods Page 41

  Spark shakes his head, looking at me curiously. I think I sense Bu’a’s game, but someone has to tell him. I sit down on the ground beside him so I’m on his level.

  “This is going to sound crazy, but Fiery Grace has another being living inside her that goes by the name of Bu’a,” I explain carefully; as I expected, his expression is one of utter disbelief. Glancing at Bu’a, I see her mouth quirk slightly. She’s enjoying this.

  “What are you talking about? That’s ridiculous.” He looks over at her as if half-expecting her to change into a monster, then shakes his head when she just smiles back at him innocently, her lovely eyes twinkling with amusement.

  But I have an idea.

  “This is very important, Spark. On the love I have for Little Squirrel, I promise you that what I’m telling you is true. One of them appeared to me and tried to take over my mind. Have you been having headaches?”

  Bu’a’s face goes from innocence to anger in a flash. She storms over to me, her guards dragging me up from the ground none too gently.

  “Enough crazy talk from you, Artan,” she announces briskly, gesturing for them to walk me over to the door. “Spark, get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

  Spark opens his mouth to say something, but the guards drag me out the door flap and into the darkness.

  They force me over to the second hut. Pausing in front of the door flap, she turns to me.

  “That was clever of you, to use your love for Little Squirrel like that. But don’t worry. Spark will be one of us before morning despite your warning.” Pulling back the flap, she pushes me inside.

  Chapter 38: Jaereth

  The wind carries me at least a day’s journey from the Queensrealm before setting me down with a sigh just outside the Great Forest. I keep seeing the fear and love in Kella’s eyes in that last instant before the wind carried me away. I failed her. I had promised to protect her, and now she will undoubtedly die in my place.

  I want to scream, to fight, to cry—I feel so powerless. Right now, while I stand here, too far away to save her, our enemies might be putting the double noose around her tender neck…

  I put a hand up to my own neck, gingerly investigating the places where the Hanging Arm’s rough ropes rubbed the skin raw in my efforts to break free. Wincing, I let my hand fall to my side and study my surroundings to distract myself from my grief.

  Based on the position of the sun, it’s late afternoon. The summer storm that had darkened the sky above the Field of Honor has moved to the southeast; I can hear birds singing in the nearby trees. They flit here and there, the sun bright on their wings.

  Between the Queensrealm and the Great Forest stretch the grasslands, a sea of open prairie offering little in the way of cover except for a few lonely trees. The Shenoah River exits the forest on its way to the Queensrealm and, ultimately, the sea, not far from where I stand, its wide ribbon shining golden in the sunlight. Its sister-river, the Roanah River, leaves the Great Forest to the south; wider and smoother than her sister, she carries traders from the People every summer to and from the place the two rivers join some distance south of the Queensrealm city gates.

  The sight reminds me of how dry my mouth is, but before I seek it out, I pick up a sturdy-looking fallen branch to use both as a walking stick and a weapon, if need be.

  Hurrying toward the river, I can’t help but replay in my mind’s eye the events that led me here. My brothers and I had risen early in the morning, arming ourselves from our hidden caches of crude weapons and departing in small groups to surround the Field of Honor. Our goal was to approach it while the Ladies cheered on their teams inside, then enter the arena from the various entrances and strike, largely from behind. They outnumbered us more than eight to one. We couldn’t reach out to the House servants or the slaves of other Houses who hadn’t been secretly raised by their Mentors to oppose the system, as we few have, so we needed any advantage to gain the upper hand.

  Fortunately, Berit’s faction was more than willing to do most of the killing, up in the grandstands. I’d agreed that we would take the north and south field exits. That way, I could be close enough to Kella to protect her. I ordered my brothers to take as many alive as they could and renewed my coercive command that they not harm any Klia Ladies. Unfortunately, most of Kella’s family would be at the mercy of Berit’s killers, but I hoped to use my ability to influence them to let them live once we were close enough.

  Kisto and I said goodbye soberly, fully aware that it might be the last time we saw each other alive. After he left, though, I felt nothing but calm determination. I was born to lead this uprising—I could feel it, deep in my bones. This was my moment. Kisto’s absence only made me stronger because he wouldn’t be there to take over if I failed, so I had no one to fall back on but myself.

  I had chosen my team of five carefully, with my old friend Canu and my new friend Iben by my side and two of our strongest fighters at our back. We would regroup at both exits. We didn’t dare to travel in groups of more than that and risk raising an alarm. In groups of five or less, we are virtually invisible, or so I thought. Maybe I was over-confident. But no one could have foreseen what would happen next.

  The Field of Honor is surrounded on three sides by forest, with the area leading up to the front entrance offering no cover whatsoever. This made Berit’s faction’s job so much more difficult than ours, since most of them had no excuse for being there. But once the match began, very few Ladies would have reason to leave the grandstands. The plan was to attack during the last scoring period of the game, when they would be the most focused on what was going on down on the field and the least likely to notice attackers from behind.

  I’d split our faction’s group of a little over a hundred fighters split into two groups, one at the north entrance and the other at the south entrance. We hid in the woods on both sides of the arena with one or two lookouts sent to watch the game and report back when the final scoring period began. Against my better judgment, I decided that Iben and I would be the two scouts at the north entrance. It would have been wiser to stay with the main group, silently waiting in the forest, but I wanted to watch Kella play. It put me, as the leader, at unnecessary risk, but I deemed the risk of being seen and reported small, since everyone would be distracted by the match.

  Iben and I loitered just outside the exit, peering in. We had a clear line of sight to the grandstands, but before long, I was wholly caught up in the game. I’m not very familiar with the rules of Horse-Dancing, but the moment when the opposing team member struck Karyl’s horse’s nose happened right in front of us; we were the only ones besides Karyl herself who could clearly see it. I was close enough to sense Karyl’s anger. Later, when Karyl told Kella about it, I felt Kella’s great indignation.

  Shortly thereafter, when the wind suddenly picked up within the stadium and the storm began to form overhead, I knew what she must be doing. She and her team fought hard, and soon the score was tied. Iben and I were riveted, like everyone else in the arena. The crowd was on their feet, rooting them on, drowning out all other noise.

  Then someone touched my shoulder and I startled, turning, my hand reaching for the axe hanging from my belt. It was Canu, my third in command, with a handful of our brothers standing behind him. They were all bloodied, though strangely, their weapons were clean of gore, I noted in the second before he spoke.

  “We were attacked!” he explained unnecessarily, glancing behind in fear. “Some sort of huge monsters with skulls for heads, if you can believe it.”

  I could believe it, since Kella had described the creatures that had attacked her similarly. Just then, about half of my men came stumbling out of the trees; what followed them, herding them like cattle, made my mouth drop open in shock despite the warning.

  It wasn’t the skulls, the flaming red eyes, their gigantic height or even their spider-like movements that chilled me to my core. It was their presence, or energy—a sort of heavy vibration in the air that shook me to
my bones and set my teeth on edge. It felt like whatever made me, me, was being shaken apart at my core. I couldn’t help but recoil, but there were so many that they quickly surrounded us. Looking behind the creatures in front, I couldn’t see an end to them. There were far too many to successfully fight.

  Reaching for my gift and feeling it respond deep within, I pushed my intentions out through my mouth—Go away!—feeling it arrow out and settle over everyone around me. My men began backing away, but the creatures kept coming.

  —Stop!—I commanded, but they didn’t even hesitate. My men froze in place, and I released them, frustrated. Why didn’t my ability work on these monsters? What were they?

  They were almost upon us. I knew I needed to do something quickly.

  “Follow me!” I shouted, and led what remained of my men into the arena. The creatures followed, blocking the exit, so we ran toward the team members celebrating in the center of the field. Too late, we saw the brothers I’d sent to the south exit running toward us from the other side, with a horde of the creatures behind them.

  When the players on the field saw them, they screamed, but it was too late—we were ringed all around by the nightmarish beings. My men and I drew our weapons, though we knew we would not survive this.

  One last time, in desperation, I commanded them, —Stop!—and again, they just kept coming. My last hope died.

  Lay down your weapons. We will not attack if you do not fight us.

  The unearthly voice thundered in our heads, the sound tearing at our minds, causing us to desperately cover our ears in a vain attempt to protect ourselves. Men began dropping their weapons all around me, and after a moment, I let my axe fall as well. I had a knife sewn inside my boot that I left hidden. The creatures halted and turned toward the stands, as if listening.

  Glancing behind us, up into the grandstands, I saw that Berit’s men had not fared as well. They lay dead or dying around the two entrances to the stands, with many more of the creatures standing over them. Most of the Ladies looked terrified, groveling behind seats and sobbing. But several of them calmly extricated themselves from the rest and began to make their way down to the field.

  The woman in front, a stunningly beautiful Lady in a red and black lace dress, gestured for the creatures to move out of her way, and they did. Soon, she was standing in front of me. She smiled as if she knew me; I sensed she was both pleased and highly amused. The other Ladies stood some distance behind her, looking at me as if I were something unpleasant.

  “Jaereth,” she breathed, her eyes too intent on mine. “We meet at last.”

  Clearly, she was used to having men fall all over themselves because of her comeliness, but compared to Kella, she was nothing but a cow in heat to me. Still, I wanted her good will if that was possible, so I decided it was best to play along.

  Bowing, I asked, “Have we met before, Lady?”

  She shook her head with a small smile. “No. But I know who you are.” Her voice was heavy with meaning, but I could make no sense of it.

  “My Lady? I’m afraid I don’t understand.” I dared greatly even having eye contact with her, let alone talking with her, since slaves in the Queensrealm are little better than dirt. Yet she met my gaze as if speaking with an equal. It felt like a trap, but her feelings matched her tone. We were all dead men anyway, so I resolved to ingratiate myself if I could.

  “We know about you and Lady Kella,” she said, watching for my reaction. But long years of hiding my feelings because they could get me killed had prepared me for this. She looked disappointed when my face didn’t change. When she saw that I wouldn’t fall for her cat and mouse game, she lost interest.

  “Take them,” she ordered the creatures nearest us. “I require several of you to come with me,” she added, gesturing to a few standing apart. “We must go find this slave’s beloved.” She winked and turned to go, with several of the creatures obediently following.

  Reaching for my gift once more, I whispered —Let us go!—and sent it winging its way to the woman, feeling it settle over her.

  She looked back at me.

  “Your ability has no effect on me, Jaereth,” she reprimanded, her voice cold. “Seize him!” With that, she exited the field.

  The creature nearest to me bent and picked me up as if I weighed nothing. Knowing it was useless to struggle, I went limp. It carried me over to a Hanging Arm.

  Ladies met me there, the Arm dwarfing them. I tried to break free when the creature put me down, but it held me fast. The Ladies fastened the nooses around my neck and tied my hands behind my back, then raised the Arm high. Forced to raise up on my toes so I didn’t accidentally hang myself, I was effectively trapped, my concentration split between struggling to breathe against the tight ropes ringing my windpipe and maintaining my balance.

  They strung my brothers up next to me. We waited to die. I prayed to the One True God that he might spare Kella and help her escape. I could die at peace, knowing she was safe.

  But then the Lady in the red and black dress returned with Kella. Shortly thereafter, all hell broke loose, and I found myself here.

  Did Kisto escape, or does he lie dead or hanged with the rest of my brothers? What will they do to Kella? How will I go on without her?

  Reaching the river, I go to one knee, cupping my hands for a drink. The water is refreshing, but it can’t ease my burning heart. All I can do now is make my way back to the Queensrealm and try to find out Kella’s fate.

  If she’s dead…I can’t think about that now…

  By nightfall, I’m ravenous. Taking my knife out of my boot, I stand silently, hoping to hear the sounds of prey, but all I hear are the sounds of insects and the rustling of the long grasses in the wind. Smoothing down some grasses to make a bed, I curl up and give myself to the forgetfulness of sleep.

  Some time later, I hear the grass rustling near me. Swiftly, I plunge my knife in the direction of the sound, surprised to hear a gasp and the sound of a man cursing under his breath. By the dim light of the moon, I can make out his outline, stumbling to get away from me—he’s almost as tall as I am, and his clothes seem strange, though I can’t make out details.

  I demand, “Who are you, and what do you want?”

  Unexpectedly, he chuckles. “My name is Wilde, and right now I want to not die.”

  “Where have I heard your name before?” I wonder aloud, sensing no ill will from this stranger despite his odd phrasing.

  “Kella may have mentioned me,” he admits. I remember standing outside her House last night as she told me about the invisible man who supposedly follows me around.

  “Yes, that’s it! But she told me you were invisible.”

  The other man sighs. “I was. Somehow, by touching the world of the living, we seem to be finding our way back to it at last.” He comes and sits near me. “I owe you an apology, Jaereth.”

  Somehow, I find his presence comforting. There’s something about this man that feels familiar, though I can’t think what since we’ve never met before. Well, I’ve never met him, at least. Maybe he reminds me of Kisto.

  “Why?” I ask, genuinely curious.

  “Because I tried to give you an ability that would keep you safe, and failed miserably.” I sense his despair and self-blame.

  “It worked wonderfully up to this point,” I reassure him, feeling pity.

  “Excuse me,” a new voice says out of the darkness. A light flares: a torch, illuminating a man and woman of the People, from their dress, with a tall man in buckskin clothing standing between them. “We mean you no harm,” the tall man adds when I reach for the knife at my belt.

  “I know him,” Wilde says, gesturing toward the tall man. “His name is Miklos. He’s the Chosen of my friend Gideon. I’m glad to finally meet you, Miklos,” he says, holding out his arm. “I’ve wanted to see how your ability works ever since they first told me about it.”

  Miklos grasps forearms with Wilde in greeting.

  “Well met.” The torch frees i
tself from the other man’s hand and floats over to hover in front to Miklos. “I can move anything short distances if they aren’t too heavy. It’s been quite handy a few times.” He grins, and the torch floats back to the other man. “He hates it when I do that,” he whispers conspiratorially, and winks.

  “Yes, I do,” says the other man. “I am called Truth Seeker,” he continues, “and this is Prairie Blossom.” Prairie Blossom bows her head respectfully, and Truth Seeker comes forward to grasp forearms with Wilde as Miklos had. I don’t offer my arm, wanting instead to stand back and take their measure while Wilde carries the conversation. The fact that they happened to find us in the middle of the night in the grasslands doesn’t seem like an accident.

  Wilde gestures for them to sit down, and we join them in the grass.

  “Are Little Squirrel and Artan with you?” he asks Miklos.

  “No, though they’re the reason we’re here. Little Squirrel and Artan were taken captive, and we’re searching for them. We should be close enough to free Artan soon, but unfortunately, Little Squirrel has been imprisoned in the Queensrealm.

  “That’s why we sought you out,” he says, nodding to me. “We need your help to free her.”

  Chapter 39: Little Squirrel

  I swim toward consciousness like a fish seeking the surface, guided by a soft, beckoning rainbow light. At last, after fighting against the current for a long time, I wake, my eyelids fluttering open, and try to turn my head. My head explodes in pain. I groan, my hands weakly lifting to cradle my head.

  Slowly, Mah’ue whispers in my mind, consuming my anguish, singing a strangely comforting spirit-song that soothes and relaxes me. As my muscles loosen, the pain diminishes. Little by little, I’m able to turn my head and look around. There isn’t much to see. I’m in a very small, dark room, with the only light coming from a tiny window high up in the wall across from the bed I’m lying in.