Текст книги "Blood Warrior"
Автор книги: Lindsey Piper
Соавторы: Lindsey Piper
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 21 страниц)
CHAPTER
EIGHT
Tallis stared at her face, her honest face, and ducked into himself. He didn’t move, but there was no denying his withdrawal from Kavya’s simple words. It shook everything he knew to its bedrock.
He’d rebelled against the Sun—the dictator who’d turned him into a killer. He’d plotted against her and hated her. She’d been using him, and he’d been right to rebel. He only regretted that he hadn’t started to revolt years ago. It was past time to break free of that false prophet.
That the apparition happened to look like Kavya, happened to use the name her innocent followers had bestowed . . .
He was mad.
Or Kavya was even cagier and more manipulative than he’d believed.
No, he couldn’t hold on to that logic anymore. Kavya was an optimist in a time of despair. She manipulated people, but he’d never seen what might qualify as malevolence, only subtle pushes toward the hope and courage few dared dream: peace.
All that remained of his antipathy toward Kavya was that her goal of unification aligned with the woman who’d directed his violent hands. That thingwas not optimistic or innocent. He’d felt only selfishness and ambition.
For the sake of the Dragon Kings as a whole, that ambition could not come to pass.
Part of him had grudgingly come to respect Kavya. It seemed a shame to find a reason to continue thwarting her noble endeavors. But his intention remained the same. He would rid himself of the demon in his mind, even if it meant keeping Kavya from accomplishing her mission.
“I dreamed of you again.” Throat tight, he cut off her protests with a stiff sweep of his hand. “It wasn’t you. Nothing fit. She was a warped version of how you appeared before your followers. Something to please everyone. Only . . . more exaggerated. It was the first time I could see through the illusion. She said she mourned the dead, but she wore turquoise from the North.”
“That would never happen. Ever. It would be an insult, not to the South, but to the people we used to be. Long ago. A people who shared the same name, without qualification.” She forcefully shook her head. He’d known as much, no matter his unanswered questions and fury at having been used. “What else did this . . . Sun tell you?”
“She claimed that peace between the factions would mean unification of the Five Clans.”
Kavya’s brows drew together. The more she revealed of her authentic personality, the more animated her features became. She exposed more with her frown than she could have with a hundred words. At least that was reassuring. Toward the end of his dream the phantom in his head had gazed down at him with an eerie blankness that reminded him too much of Pashkah.
“That has never been a facet of my hopes,” she said. Her fingers compulsively itched the evergreen’s shredded bark. One foot tapped the needle-strewn ground—a soft patter of sound he identified despite the steady, growling flow of the Beas at his back. “How would the end of our civil war unify all of the Dragon Kings? I can’t even comprehend the power someone would need to make that happen.” The drain of hope from her eyes buried pain behind his sternum. “To force compliance? By any means?”
Tallis nodded. His eyelids felt lined with grit. “The Sun I envisioned said that the factions would unify when twins stopped resisting the inevitable. A gift split between two people was a gift that hadn’t been allowed its full potential.”
“So just start killing each other?” Her melodic, softly accented voice pitched toward hysteria. Whatever tricks she’d used when speaking to the assembly, none had been to modulate the musical rhythm of her speech. That rhythm was choppy now, made staccato by her mounting outrage. “Murder your twin? Your triplet? Was that her message? She might as well advocate brinksmanship among human nations that stockpile masses of weapons.”
“ ‘Survival of the fittest,’ she said.”
“And those who survived would be powerful and insane. Can you imagine the upheaval? For the most part, our kind blends with the human population. You have, haven’t you?”
“For years.”
“Do you think our relative anonymity would last if we started killing each other in the streets? Or bringing innocent humans into the fray?”
The jab of guilt made Tallis look away. He’d led the Asters to his niece’s home. Just for questioning, they’d claimed. Only, Tallis had watched in horror as her unassuming life had been shattered by the Asters’ men and a few of his warped Cage warriors—those Dragon Kings who fought to clear debts or, for some, to earn the right to conceive children. Dr. Heath Aster, son of the cartel’s patriarch, was the only person in the world to have discovered a method of circumventing the barrier that had hampered natural conception for a generation. Fighting for the survival of one’s bloodline had driven some Dragon Kings to the underground world of the Cages.
Then how had Nynn been able to conceive a natural-born Dragon King son?
Just for questioning.
He’d never wanted them to invade Nynn’s home and murder her human husband with a shotgun blast to the chest.
“It’s happened already,” he said. “I know of at least one human who’s died because of this increasing need to consolidate power.”
“You thought by discrediting me and keeping the Indranan split into factions, that power would never come to pass?”
“Yes.” He paused, glanced at a very grim-faced Chandrani, and decided to tell the truth. “And because I genuinely hated you. I wanted revenge for twenty years of having been manipulated toward a goal that held no more substance than my dreams.”
Kavya was a strong woman. Any other would have railed and cussed and blamed him—rightfully so, it seemed. Layers of guilt. Soon he would be buried beneath them, with only a life of berserker mindlessness to swirl free of the cloying dirt.
She was strong because she nodded. “You hated the wrong person.”
“Seems that way.”
“Are you crazy?”
“I don’t know. And believe me, twenty years is a long time to ask the same question.”
She drew back and did that odd thing with her fingers. Hands clasped at her stomach. Some particular adjustment to the alignment of her fingers. What followed was an expression of serenity and steady calm that Tallis envied. He coveted it more than he’d ever coveted anything.
What would it be like to go through life again with a sense of rightness and certainty? He’d known that feeling once, but he would never trust it again. Too much damage had been done when he’d relinquished free will in favor of blind faith.
“I don’t think you’re crazy,” she said simply. “But I do think we need to go. A telepath must’ve driven you to these extremes. If she—or even he—has been feeding you these lies for two decades, then it must be someone with a great deal of power.” She paused. Her gaze darted all around, as if the trees might come alive. “Two decades . . . My brother killed our sister almost exactly twenty years ago.”
Tallis swallowed, his throat clogged with bile. In those dreams, he’d experienced some of the most erotic moments of his life, waking up in a flush of sweat and infuriatingly dissatisfied. Sometimes he’d wanted to stroke himself, with the image of golden flesh behind closed eyes. But the morning always brought the same nauseating doubts. Was he insane? Had he killed for no reason? Those questions cooled his ardor within moments of waking. More frustration. More mounting anger.
“I . . .”
He stopped himself. He clamped his lips shut and shook his head. Some shames should never be admitted. This was one. Hurt, revulsion, betrayal—he couldn’t separate his emotions. They welled up in him and tempted the animal. The berserker dwelling in his marrow, sinews, and the deepest recesses of his mind had known the truth as soon as Kavya, the real Kavya, had lain beneath his body.
“I hope that isn’t the case,” he finished, knowing his words wouldn’t gratify either of them. “But I can’t deny it’s a possibility.”
“Then we may have found ourselves a common enemy, Tallis of Pendray.” Kavya offered a smile. Too bad it was tinged with sadness and fear. “Until we have the answers you seek, nothing will come of my attempts to heal the wound Pashkah inflicted on my people. If he catches me, he will kill me. And if you insist on revealing the tricks played on you in dreamscape, he’ll kill you, too.”
–
They didn’t resume camp, although Kavya was weary. So weary. But fear of Pashkah’s retaliation propelled her onward. They trudged south. Although humans had built a highway that extended down from the Himalayas, following the deadly Rohtang Pass through the Valley of the Gods, past where her followers had encamped outside of Manali, the Beas River was Kavya’s guide. She knew these foothills like she knew the sound of her breath. What she didn’t know was whether Pashkah had remained in the Pir Panjal after killing Baile. Had he traveled, or had he stayed to learn these mountains as well as she did?
Had he ever followed her? Had he been there with her in Australia, where some of the Southerners had emigrated?
Not that it mattered. He could follow her anywhere now.
“I’ll need another Mask,” she said in the hours of early morning.
“Why?”
Tallis sounded strangely agitated. She was beginning to learn the expressivity of his voice, which was almost as animated as his face—if one paid attention. That she couldn’t read his mind meant he was the first person she’d needed to understand by sense alone.
“Because Pashkah knows what I look like now. Even worse, he’ll recognize this version of my mind. Night or day won’t matter.”
“He’ll follow what he knows of us,” Chandrani said. “His pursuit will be entirely psychic now.”
She had stopped speaking directly into Kavya’s mind—a deliberate means of including Tallis in their plans. That was new. Chandrani trusted no one but Kavya, and vice versa. Voicing her opinions to Tallis was smart, for now, if only to fold his canny strategies into theirs. He was skilled in the use of his Pendray weapons—seaxes and berserker rage, both. Beyond that, Kavya knew he was an unacceptable liability. How could anyone be so susceptible to suggestions pushed into his dreams?
But she knew the answer. The mind was a fragile place. With the right whisper from the right person, that whisper could become the truth.
“A Mask would disguise you,” Tallis said without question. “What does it do to who you are now? Or who you really were? I assume you’ve used them before.”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“This will be my fifth.”
He stopped. His boots made a squelching sound on the damp rocks along the river. “Your fifth? Who the fuck are you, really?”
Kavya jerked. “I’m me.”
“Layered with four other versions of you.”
Why was he making this sound so wrong? It was the way of her world.
“With the right Mask,” she said, “a Northerner could live alongside a Southerner in the same neighborhood. No fighting. No fear. Only the most visible, like our politicians, need them more frequently.”
“And cult leaders.”
“You’re not one to judge. For centuries, we’ve needed Masquerades to save us from aggressive twins, and to keep the peace between the factions.” She huffed a frustrated breath. “Disguise is better than fighting and dying.”
Tallis continued their trudge, leading them down the mountain. It was roughly thirty-five miles to their destination, Bhuntar, but a four-thousand-foot drop in altitude. Kavya felt renewed strength in her lungs as the thin air gave way to stronger bursts of oxygen. She eyed Tallis. The tension in his shoulders gave away that he shared none of her invigoration, as did the way stiff steps spoiled his warrior’s grace.
“What are Masquerades?” he asked.
“Back-alley merchants. They’re generally considered unclean. No one acknowledges a Masquerade as a family member, and none I’ve ever met live in pods. They hone their gift to provide Masks for the right price.”
“Like human moneylenders of old—necessary but exiled.”
“Yes.”
He seemed bitter, even repulsed, despite nodding. Again, she felt the need to explain Indranan culture. How could Dragon Kings know so little about the rest of the Five Clans? How had they become so insular?
“Your gift is too dangerous,” he said softly.
“That’s rich coming from the man who used teeth rather than steel. Is a Pendray berserker any less dangerous?”
“There’s no hiding what we do. You hide behind party tricks and layers of lies. I know who I am. You don’t have a clue.”
“You know, do you?” She heard the sneer in her words, which was new. Surprising. When was the last time she’d given over to words so pure in meaning and tone? “You’re the man who doubts his sanity. You’re the man who dresses like a human but hides a raging beast. You might as well be Jekyll and Hyde. Admit it and feel better for it. ‘Yes, Kavya, I’m half of myself when I’m a regular man.’ ”
He spun and grabbed her shoulders. The sound of Chandrani’s saber drawn from its scabbard should’ve been reassuring, but Kavya didn’t want her friend’s protection. She wanted to push Tallis. To learn more about him.
“I’m both,” he snapped. “There’s no need to choose.”
“Liar. And if you keep lying to me, we’ll part ways no matter how useful you might be in defending me.”
“You think that’s the reason why I’m traveling with you?” He clamped tighter on her shoulders. “Dragon-damned woman. You’re the most perfect bait a fisherman could want. A wiggling little worm to drag Pashkah out of hiding. If he’s the person who’s been manipulating me, or if he can provide any information at all, then with him is where I need to be.”
“So you can, what, bite him again? That must be yourhobby.”
“I’ll kill him. Get him out of my head.”
“I’m a worm,” she said with disgust. “Bait. You areas delusional as you fear.”
His mouth was a sour pucker, when she’d felt it softer and more pliable, capable of moments of tenderness. “Delusional, says the telepath who can’t tell Masks from reality.”
“You’re a hypocrite, too. Or a stubborn moron, just like everyone assumes of the Pendray.”
She actually grinned when all he could do was shake her. That snap of leashed aggression was welcome. It distracted her from Pashkah—the real danger she faced—and revealed another aspect of Tallis’s character. He could’ve unleashed that aggression at any point in their association, but he’d held it back until the last possible moment. Then he’d possessed sense enough to use it against genuine evil.
“You hate your rage as much as you revel in it.” Conviction strengthened her voice when she should’ve been speaking in whispers, if at all. “Gifts come with tremendous benefits and terrible consequences. The humans have gained free will as they’ve matured. Our kind claimed that right centuries before. That meant and still means deciding how best to use one’s powers.”
“Fair point. You win. This is me exercising my free will.”
He stalked away. Again.
“You’re used to running,” she called. “That’s the solution to conflicts you can’t resolve. Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll shout for Pashkah right now. I’ll bring him down on our heads and we’ll duke it out right here. Tell me I’m wrong, Tallis, that you travel the world because you wantto.”
He stopped. Rather than reply or even turn, he bowed his head—just a fraction. He didn’t contradict her, but neither did he agree. She couldn’t have gone through with her threat, just like he couldn’t have replied. Both were obvious.
She jogged to catch up to him. The hem of her sari was soaking wet and coated in mud.
A breeze touched her face when she stood at his back. That breeze smelled of cold and earth and water—and Tallis. The leather coat made him look bulkier, more intimidating, but she knew what lay beneath those layers. Could she say the same about the mind she hid under layers of Masks?
“I know two things,” she said quietly. “First is that a berserker saved my life. No matter what you think of that side of yourself, or how you resist it, I won’t forget what you did for me.”
“And the second thing?” His voice was roughly seductive.
Kavya inhaled deeply and focused on the swatch of skin between his hairline and the coat’s collar. She wanted to touch him there. “To survive against Pashkah, I’m going to need your help.”
CHAPTER
NINE
Tallis stood at the northern outskirts of the city of Kullu, where the valley pass dipped sharply down along the course of the Beas. The sun angled over the eastern ridge of mountains and banished the shadows. Likely it would’ve appeared over a flat horizon several hours before, but it had to climb that rocky barrier before casting its rays over the river.
“The Valley of the Gods,” Kavya said reverently. She stood beside him, her eyes both sharp and somehow unfocused. She seemed to absorb the energy of that scene in a way he would never understand. Perhaps the same would be true of him if he again stood on the Highland moors and looked down over the North Sea. His homeland.
This was hers.
“Did the Indranan inspire the name?”
“Long ago, yes. Before the fracture. We roamed throughout the mountains and down to the Indian Ocean. Later, the Northerners came up this pass and continued on to China. The Mongols were quick learners. Many Indranan stayed with them. The Khan must’ve appreciated having telepaths among his number.” She smiled softly. “Historians get so much wrong.”
“Like Alexander and the Tigony,” Tallis said, matching her small smile. He’d wanted to see the real one again, genuine and full of joy, but this would suffice. A subtle truce. “The arrogant son of a bitch thought he’d done it on his own. The Tigony are a vengeful lot, despite their airs. When he got too full of himself, they made sure his conquests came to an end. Period.”
“How do you know so much about the Tigony? They’re like you said—full of airs.”
“You can’t imagine them telling war stories with a Pendray?”
“The clan that backed the Greeks and Romans, who tried to impose their beliefs on Pendray-backed victims—Celts and Norse and the like. Not the best recipe for heart-to-heart chats.”
“I have a Tigony friend in high places.” Probably an understatement, considering that he referred to the Honorable Giva, the leader of the Dragon Kings’ elected Council. Then again, to call Malnefoley a friend was an exaggeration. They tolerated each other because of shared family connections. Distrust meant they would never be close unless their ambitions aligned. Basically, Tallis was bragging. Idiot. “Let’s just say my brother married a hundred times better than he deserved.”
“You? With secrets? I’ll never recover from the shock.”
With a chuckle, Tallis turned away from her profile. Now that he knew the difference between the Sun and Kavya . . .
She was flesh and blood.
He’d been infatuated with a vision. The best scenario was that the vision was of his own making, but that would mean shouldering the blame for the damage he’d wrought. The worst case was that he’d played puppet to the likes of Pashkah. What he’d revealed in his dreams, what he’d done—Tallis didn’t want to think of sharing that with a vengeful stranger.
Kavya was different. Out here in the wilds of the Pir Panjal, she was well away from her people. She couldn’t read his mind. She was forced to be herself, and that was even more tempting than an image of perfection. He liked how he could unnerve her with his dry humor and even his silences. He’d needed to learn English sarcasm like another language, but it was useful when sparring with a woman who used thoughts more than speech.
His people, however, told stories. Huge, rambling, straightforward stories. Subtleties such as irony and sarcasm hadn’t made sense. Tallis had arrived in England as an exile, completely unprepared for the cultural difference of a few hundred miles.
“What about the Southerners?” he asked.
“What about them?”
“If you in the North managed to mingle with the Han and the Mongols, where did the Southerners go after the split?”
“The coastline and the islands—Indonesia and the like. Some even colonized Australia. Every religion in this region is so fractured. Tiny pockets of belief. We migrated and split and kept splitting. Pods became villages, and villages became cultures. And we’d split again, always so distrustful and willing to move on, start again, if it meant the chance of being safe.”
The Pendray way would’ve been to stand and fight, not run, hide, change, live in fear. He understood the desire to have one’s gift from the Dragon made whole, but the cost was a civilization that resembled a petri dish of bacteria dividing and dividing.
Kavya led the way into a seedy, run-down area of Kullu. The idea that she would assume another Mask turned Tallis’s stomach. He followed, with Chandrani at the rear. He knew they talked to each other. That shouldn’t have bothered him, because they’d taken to voicing important decisions about direction and timing. The remaining, unspoken little things didbother him. For the first time in longer than he could recall, he was keeping company with Dragon Kings. They challenged him. Kavya in particular. As if his mind had tipped sideways, he was confused, angry, and uncertain of his purpose.
Find Pashkah?
Run from him?
Worse, it had been nearly thirty-six hours since he’d eaten. Hunger tended to bring out his less desirable traits. He was irritable and prone to snap harsh phrases. The beast needed to be appeased. Now that he’d called it out of its cage, that dark and raging animal was making more of his decisions.
“What happens after?” he asked.
Her strides were short but quick. She’d had no trouble keeping up with his pace, probably due to her familiarity with these daunting mountains. “After what?”
He needed to stop admiring the way the morning sun turned her golden skin to bronze. She glowed as if she really were the Sun of his dreams. “After you take on another Mask. Can he find you at all? Will you go into hiding? We’ve had different goals from the start.”
“The start being when you kidnapped me among my own people for reasons that seem founded on madness?”
“Yes. That.”
“At least you can admit some of what took place yesterday.”
“What happened to how much you appreciated my saving your life?”
Kavya brushed long chocolate-brown hair back from her shoulders and used a sleeve of her sari to wipe her face. Only then did he realize that yes, she was rather a mess. He must look worse. “I thanked you once,” she said, not breaking stride. “Don’t expect more gratitude until you do something new to deserve it.”
The October morning gave way to surprising warmth. Tallis unbuttoned his coat. He couldn’t imagine the snow and winds this place would withstand come winter. Already, preparations appeared to be under way. Chopped wood lined each building in great stacks. The faces of these hearty humans spoke of survival. Deep wrinkles were born of squinting against snow and ice made into beacons by the high mountain sunshine.
Kavya lead them deeper into the crumbling neighborhood, to a few rickety buildings. This city itself was a destination known for attracting adventurers who sought guidance up the valley toward the infamous Rohtang Pass. The natural wonder, which was so dangerous that humans closed it from November to May, was a temptation to those whose lives lacked mortal thrills.
Tallis resented them, pitied them, envied their innocent cares.
But this was no tourist area. They approached a small pine building. It was daubed with mud and listed toward where the valley continued its downward slope. Kavya closed her eyes. Although he heard nothing, Tallis felt a pulse of energy flow from her body. Why had no one ever talked about that facet of the Indranans’ gift? It didn’t have to be audible for him to know it was there.
A man appeared in the doorway of the listing little building. He matched the pine shelter that surrounded him, as if a rough wind would send him twirling into the sky. He had to be pushing the upward limit of a Dragon King’s life span.
“A Mask, eh?” He rubbed a chin covered in bristly gray hair. “That will cost you.”
Kavya nodded. “It always does.”
–
The man’s name was Nakul. Kavya had known of his existence in Kullu for several years, because she’d thought she might need him one day.
“You’re really going through with this?” Tallis asked.
He stood with his hands in the pockets of his leather coat, so Dragon-damned handsome that she was dazzled. People called her the Sun, but nothing compared to how the dawn graced him. Pink and gold were blessings that washed over his features. His skin was luminous. The cold ocean blue of his eyes was lightened without dissipating any of his intensity. Even his lashes were tipped with a silver sheen that matched his thick hair.
The berserker rage had spun everything about him into a wild creature, ragged and worn, but with so much strength that his casual posture couldn’t disguise his vigilance in watching the trees, houses, and high mountaintops. He wore the weariness of a man who’d been at war for years. A man without faith. A man without allegiances or a home. A man who’d seen something terrible, unspeakable, and would never be the same again.
She wanted to hold his head to her body and stroke his hair until it was free of wild tangles and his mind was free of old, sad pains.
Frustrated by her capacity to be distracted by Tallis, she turned to face Nakul.
The old man scared her.
How many Masks had he dispensed through the decades? How many had he cleanly installed? Would age affect his work? Her mind already verged on having been soaked in too many artificial details. It would take a patient, skilled Masquerade to pick through those false touches and places new ones in between.
Pashkah would find her. She would never be able to reverse the damage to her people. Out there, women had been kidnapped. The Dragon only knew what was being done to them. The Dragon only knew what repercussions would come of their abuse.
“Yes, I’m really going through with this. You can step inside, or you can stand watch.”
“I don’t want to see any more witchcraft. I’ve had my fill for ten lifetimes.”
Head high, she walked the small distance to Nakul’s half-falling awning of tattered, dirty canvas. He’d bring it in before winter. Some internal sense of being in tune with her homeland said the snows would be soon in coming.
“I know who you are.” Nakul’s voice reminded her of his gnarled old bones. He was stringy with exposed tendons and veins. Whatever was left of his flesh hung in saggy pantomimes of a man’s muscles. “The whole of mankind and the Dragon Kings would lie here in the dark, confused and freezing to death, if the Sun abandoned us.”
A shiver turned her skin into a field of goose bumps. She didn’t know which sun he meant.
“I will give you anything you like.” Her peripheral vision found Tallis edging slowly closer. Skepticism tainted the air around his lithe body. “Just name the price.”
“Come inside.”
The interior of the shack was no surprise. It matched the slumping, resigned way the outside seemed ready to tumble down the mountain, consequences be damned. A tiny cookstove was all he had to fend off the chill. Behind the stove, in the scant space between it and the far corner, were blankets and stuffed burlap. Puffs of wool and cotton poked out from the rough stitching like a seeping wound. There was no order to his living space. Even aligning her knuckles did nothing to alleviate the tension festering along the path of Kavya’s spine.
I shouldn’t be here.
No choice.
“My price is, I want to leave this world.”
Kavya’s heart picked up speed. Tallis entered through the only door. Negative judgment was written over his face, shadowed by the shack’s grim, slimy darkness and obscured by the floating dander of neglect.
“I can’t do that,” Kavya said. “I have no Dragon-forged sword, and I have no intention of taking a life.”
“You have other ways. Wehave other ways. You’re the first Dragon King to seek my aid in more than ten years. That’s ten winters of a chill I can’t get out of my blood. I face another ten at least.” His voice grew more impassioned. “I’ll be a madman. A telepath alone with one’s thoughts is a pathetic thing.”
“Hey, now,” Tallis said. “What does he mean that you have other means?”
Nakul looked as if he were already dead inside. He only needed a means of making it happen.
“We’re Indranan, and we have our ways. I want Kavya to turn off my mind. Leave me uncaring. Let the elements ravage my body, but without the faculties to drive a Dragon King mad. I’ll live out the rest of my life with frostbitten limbs and a stomach begging for food, but I won’t be of this earth.” He nodded firmly. “That, Kavya of the Indranan, is the payment you will give to me.”
