Текст книги "Vessel"

Автор книги: Sarah Beth Durst

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Four

The dust settled.

Liyana wiped the dirt out of her eyes with a filthy sleeve. She pushed herself to sitting. You have bruised my body, Bayla said.

“Are we safe?” Oyri demanded. She walked in a circle, arms outstretched. She stumbled over the cracked earth that the worm had left, and she fell to her knees. Her facecloth was gone, and the blue uniform was torn and streaked with dirt.

Liyana scanned the hilltop. So far, no soldiers, but that could change. She thought of the emperor and wondered if he was caught in the chaos. She wished she could have explained—but no, he wouldn’t have understood anyway. He’d given the order to kill Bayla. Her mind, deep beyond where Bayla could hear her, whispered, But not me. He did not wish to kill me. She pushed aside thoughts of him. “We’re too visible. We need to hide in the tent.” Wincing from her new bruises, she hobbled over to Oyri and helped her stand.

On the walk to the tent, Oyri stumbled three times, even with Liyana escorting her. Liyana hadn’t realized how proficient Pia had been at compensating for her blindness. Pia had never taken a false step. She had walked with the confidence of a sighted person. By contrast, Oyri shuffled and stumbled like a baby goat learning to walk.

Pushing Oyri’s head down so she’d duck, Liyana guided her into the tent. Their packs were still inside, as was the withered pile of cacti that Liyana had gathered before entering the encampment. Oyri flailed her arms to feel around her, and she hit the packs. She recoiled. “I demand to know why my vessel is blind. I should be flawless!”

“Pia was flawless,” Liyana said. “You should honor her sacrifice.” Unable to watch the goddess flounder in Pia’s body, she checked outside the tent. Still no soldiers, but no Korbyn, Raan, or Fennik either. Sendar, she reminded herself. He was Sendar. Fennik was gone.

“Get back here!” Oyri screeched. “I require immediate answers. You must tell me where I am, who you are, and how I came to be here.”

Tell her the traitor’s name was Mulaf, and we will kill him, Bayla said.

Liyana ducked quickly inside. “Shh, you’ll draw the soldiers. You and several other deities were captured by the Crescent Empire. . . .” Quickly she summarized everything that had occurred for both Oyri’s and Bayla’s benefit. As she talked, she felt Bayla churn inside her. “The emperor will march on the desert soon.”

We will mount an attack on the encampment! Bayla shouted within.

“I must warn my clan!” Oyri cried.

Destroy Mulaf, and cut the viper off at the head! Bayla swirled like a sandstorm inside Liyana.

“My people must hide from this scourge!”

Give me the body, and I will wreak such havoc—

“Quiet, both of you!” Liyana held up her hands. She thought she heard noises from outside the camp. Inside her, Bayla continued to rage, scattering Liyana’s own thoughts. Please, stop, I need to listen!

Bayla fell silent, though Liyana felt her continue to churn.

Listening, Liyana heard hoofbeats hitting the sand. She crawled out of the tent and peeked through the trees. Five horses trotted down the hill. Three had the lithe bodies of desert horses, while the other two were stocky empire horses. Squinting in the sun, Liyana tried to see the riders. There were two . . . no, three. One horse held two figures. The others were riderless.

“Who is it?” Oyri called out to her.

“Shh,” Liyana said. She watched as they came down the slope. Sand billowed around the horses’ hooves. She saw the blue of their robes. Behind her, Oyri exited the tent loudly, thrashing her arms to feel her way.

It is them, Bayla said. Only Sendar rides like that.

Relief poured through her like sweet, clean water. “It’s them,” she repeated to Oyri.

“Who’s ‘them’?” Oyri asked.

Liyana stepped out of the shelter of the grove and waved her arms in the air. She saw one of the riders wave back. In a few minutes the riders and horses reached their camp. Liyana ran toward them. Behind her, Oyri tried to follow. She clung to the trunk of one of the trees. “This is intolerable. I should not have to ask. Tell me who it is!”

“Korbyn, Sendar, and . . .” Liyana saw that Raan was still unconscious. Korbyn had her draped across the horse’s neck in front of him. Liyana sprinted the last few yards.

Korbyn slid off the horse with Raan. Liyana caught the girl’s arm, slowing her descent.

“Is she—” Liyana began.

“I don’t know.” Together, she and Korbyn carried Raan into the tent and laid her inside. Liyana tucked a blanket under her head.

“Are they chasing us?” she asked.

“Not yet. But they’ll notice our absence soon enough, and they’ll be after us, especially without Sendar there to agitate the horses.” Liyana heard Sendar outside the tent, walking the horses in a circle around the grove to cool them. “We can’t stay here long.” Korbyn caught her chin and peered into her eyes. “Bayla . . . Is she truly . . .”

Tell him yes.

“Yes, she’s inside me.”

“This shouldn’t be possible,” Korbyn said. “Is she . . . well?”

Kiss him, Bayla said.

Liyana flinched. What?

It will prove I’m here.

His hand was still on her chin, and his face was inches from hers. Leaning forward, Liyana kissed him, and then she sprang back.

He touched his lips. “Was that you or Bayla?”

“I . . . I don’t know.” Liyana could still taste his lips on hers and knew that Bayla had not forced her to move. She had done it herself.

Liyana felt Bayla shift inside her. Of course, it is me! Why would he doubt? This time the swirling felt deeper, as if a chasm widened within. Recoiling, Liyana didn’t answer.

“How is this possible?” Korbyn asked again.

The swirl intensified, shifting from confusion to anger. Bayla’s anger whipped inside Liyana. Tell him I blame him.

“She blames you.”

Korbyn’s mouth twitched. “Now I believe she is within you.” His fingertips brushed her cheek. “Bayla? Beloved?”

Flailing, Raan groaned. Liyana swiftly turned away from his touch. She felt Raan’s forehead and then her pulse. Her heartbeat was erratic. “What’s wrong with her?” Liyana asked.

She’s fighting her goddess, Bayla said, as you fought me.

“I don’t know,” Korbyn said, his eyes still on Liyana. Or Bayla. Liyana felt her insides twist. He should be looking at Bayla. She shouldn’t still be here.

“Bayla thinks she’s fighting Maara,” Liyana said. “Like I fought Bayla.” She met his beautiful, deep eyes. “You must know I didn’t intend for this to happen.”

The tent billowed and shook as Oyri negotiated her way through the tent flap. Korbyn reached out a hand to steady her, and the second his hand touched her, Oyri leaped backward as if she’d felt a snake. “It’s Korbyn,” he said. “Be at ease.”

Oyri let him guide her into the tent. She settled herself between the packs, pulling them around her as if they were a protective wall. “I must heal myself.”

“I have tried,” Korbyn said. “It is not possible.”

“You tried? When?” Liyana asked. She’d never overhead Korbyn and Pia discuss this. She couldn’t imagine Pia asking him to try. Across the tent, Oyri pawed at her face, as if she could feel the scope of her blindness.

“Several nights,” Korbyn said, “while she slept . . . until she woke one night and asked me not to try again. She said if she gained her vision, then she would lose her way.” His mouth quirked, but Liyana felt her heart squeeze. She could picture Pia saying that.

“Ridiculous sentiment,” Oyri said. She rubbed her eyes hard and then harder. “And I may succeed where you failed.”

He laid his hands on her wrists and gently lowered her fingers away from her face. “Still you must wait to try. The healing will exhaust you, and we cannot afford to have two of us incapacitated. We must ride as soon as Sendar says the horses are ready.”

“I will not proceed without vision,” Oyri said. “It is insupportable that I should have a deficient vessel. How she could have hidden this in the dreamwalk—”

In a mild voice Korbyn said, “Your ‘deficient’ vessel crossed a desert that has killed seasoned warriors.” He met Liyana’s eyes. At least she was not the only one who had valued Pia. She suddenly felt less alone. She was aware of his closeness inside the tent. For an instant Oyri and her tirade melted away.

Liyana broke eye contact as she felt Bayla churn inside her. Exactly where does my darling boy propose we ride to? Bayla asked. The enemy is here!

“Bayla wants to know where we’re going,” Liyana said. She shifted away from Korbyn. The air was thick and hot inside the tent, and she tried to breathe deeply.

“To unite the clans,” Korbyn said.

“The Scorpion Clan joins with no one,” Oyri declared.

Waste of time, Bayla said. You will never achieve full cooperation. She continued to expound on the futility of Korbyn’s plan and the lack of cohesion of the clans. The isolationism has been increasing. Oyri is but one example—

Korbyn’s mouth twisted into an almost smile. “She’s ranting, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” Liyana said.

His smile broadened.

Bayla broke off midsentence. I do not rant.

“Bayla, Oyri . . . The army must be stopped,” Korbyn said. “If they reach the mountains, they’ll bring disaster to the entire desert.”

Stop them here! Bayla said. Vessel, repeat my words. Better to fight now before the invaders soil our sands with—

“She says to stop them here,” Liyana said.

“It is a very large army,” Korbyn said mildly. Bayla began to protest again, but before Liyana could speak, Korbyn looked beyond her. “Are the horses ready?” he asked.

Liyana turned her head and saw Fennik—Sendar—in the entranceway. She stared at him and tried to convince her brain that this was not her friend, even though it was his body. Sendar’s eyes roved over her. “Bayla?” he breathed.

Tell him he still smells of horses, and I do not forgive him for the humiliation he—

“She’s angry with you,” Liyana said.

Sendar looked pained but did not address her. “The horses will be ready shortly. Give them ten minutes to rest, and then we can—and should—move out.” Though he had the same voice, he did not speak like Fennik. His words rolled as smooth as pebbles. Liyana noticed that his stance was different as well. He held his shoulders farther back, and his body was stiff and still. Fennik had been always in motion. His fingers used to braid together or run through his hair. His expressions, too—Liyana was reminded of a puppet whose each facial tick was deliberate and pronounced. Sendar moved and spoke with intent.

Raan’s eyes popped open. “If someone does not pour whisky down my throat right now, I will be kicking every man in the balls and scalping every woman.”

Sendar roared with laughter and slapped his knee. “Maara, it is good to see you.”

Liyana suddenly felt as if the tent were too tight and the air had vanished. She pushed past Oyri and Sendar, and ran out into the desert. She stopped at the crater that the salt worm had created, and she knelt, face in her hands.

You mourn her, Bayla said quietly.

She didn’t want to die. Liyana felt an ache twisting inside her. Perhaps she understood Raan better than she’d ever thought she did. She wished she’d had a chance to tell her.

But she was a vessel. This was her fate.

I honor you, Bayla. You are my goddess, and you have my love. But for the space of a moment . . . do not speak to me.

I feel your hostility—

Liyana screamed and threw a clump of dried dirt into the salt worm’s tunnel. It smacked into the wall and fragmented. She threw another and another.

She heard footsteps behind her. “This is a familiar sight,” Korbyn said.

Liyana placed her face in her hands again, and she felt his hands on her shoulders. She sank down into the dirt. He cradled her against his chest.

He comforts you, Bayla said.

Silence, or I will not speak for you ever again.

Bayla faded into the back of her mind. Liyana felt a hint of her anger, like a whiff from a distant cooking pot. “Why me, and why not them?” she asked Korbyn.

He didn’t answer. He just held her.

Cheek pressed against his chest, she looked across the desert. It was pockmarked with dry bushes and thick-as-leather cacti. The forbidden mountains loomed in the distance. Their journey wasn’t over. “What do we do now?”

He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “I don’t know.” She didn’t think he was talking about Maara or even the invading army.

Sendar emerged from the tent. She didn’t look up to see his expression, so like Fennik and yet not. “We don’t stay here,” he said with Fennik’s voice. Raising her head, Liyana watched him adjust the saddles. Behind him, Maara stepped out of the tent and stretched. She turned her body, examining herself, and made pleased noises.

And then she collapsed into the sand.

All of them rushed to her side. Pushing Sendar aside, Liyana threw herself onto her knees next to Raan and cradled her head.

Bayla observed, She still fights.

“Keep fighting,” Liyana whispered to her. “You can survive this. Stay in your body.”

Inside, Bayla reared like a sandstorm, and Liyana felt herself blown backward. The world went black and silent, and she kept falling back, back, back. Liyana forced her mind into her body, flooding her arms and legs and fingers and chest and feet.

Subdued again, Bayla was silent. At last she said, You seem to have forgotten your role, vessel. You promised me this body.

Liyana blinked open her eyes to see Korbyn only a few inches away. He cradled her in his arms. “Still me,” Liyana said. Guilt washed through her—it shouldn’t still be her. Bayla was right. Liyana had promised to leave. But if there was no harm in staying a little while longer . . .

A look of relief flashed across his face.

Korbyn? Bayla’s voice was tinged with pain and confusion.

“Bayla, is she—” Korbyn began.

“Inside,” Liyana said. “Angry. Confused.” She thought of what Talu would say if she knew Liyana remained. She wouldn’t understand why Liyana delayed. Of course Liyana intended to leave as soon as it was truly necessary. She got to her feet and checked on Raan. She was unconscious again. Liyana felt her pulse—stronger than it had been. “We’ll tie her to one of the horses, a calm mare preferably, and someone will ride beside her.”

“And what about me? How do you expect me to ride?” Oyri demanded. “Will you tie me to a saddle like a sack as well? It is insupportable that I must rely—”

Liyana cut her off. “Pia learned to ride. Fennik . . . Sendar, would you please choose their horses and help them mount?”

Sendar looked at Korbyn quizzically. “You allow the mortal to give orders?”

Korbyn shrugged. “She gives good orders.”

He cares for you, Bayla said. More than for me? I will see you suffer for this outrage.

Liyana felt a wave of fear crash through her, and she knew Bayla must feel her reaction too. She’d never thought she would fear her goddess. Any harm to me is harm to your future body.

Then I will break you from the inside out, Bayla vowed.

Sendar prepared the horses while Korbyn packed the tent. Leading Oyri and Raan and the supply horses, they rode out. Liyana tried hard not to think at all.

* * *

Once the border hills were distant silhouettes, the deities and Liyana halted and set up camp under the light of the moon. Liyana and Korbyn pitched the tent and started a fire while Sendar tended to the horses. He cooed to their mounts as if they were kittens. As he curried them, Liyana and Korbyn helped Oyri off her horse and into the tent, and then they slid Raan off her horse.

No one spoke.

Korbyn laid Raan next to the fire, and Liyana checked her pulse. Strong again. She wondered if that was a good sign or not. Adding more fuel to the fire, Liyana turned away.

“She’s awake,” Korbyn said. He pointed at Raan. Or Maara.

Liyana knelt in front of her. “Are you . . .” Her throat closed, and she couldn’t complete the question. Please, please, she silently begged.

Acidly, Bayla asked, Who precisely are you praying to?

Liyana stopped.

“Raan.” Her voice was a croak. “You?”

“Still Liyana,” she said. Relief poured through her and made her head swim. She felt her cheeks stretch from her smile, though she hadn’t realized she was smiling. Her eyes felt hot. She blinked hard, holding back the hot tears. She didn’t know why she felt such relief—the fact that she and Raan remained was unnatural, and she should have abhorred it.

“I should have practiced more,” Raan said. “Never could get the sense of my full self. And now . . . Liyana, I can’t feel my arms or legs.”

Liyana suddenly understood. She met Korbyn’s eyes. “It’s the magic, isn’t it? All your training. That’s why I can hold my body. And Raan . . . She’s only partially trained.”

I knew this was his fault! Bayla said. She swirled fast and furious. Liyana tried to keep her breathing even, but her head whirred and her heart thudded.

Coming out of the tent, Oyri stumbled toward them. “You taught them magic?”

Of all the arrogant, ignorant . . . , Bayla raged.

“Vessels should never be taught magic!” Oyri said.

Raan coughed, and her body spasmed. “Because that makes us harder to kill? Do you feel any remorse for murdering Pia? She was the purest person I have ever met, and you displaced her!”

Joining them by the fire, Sendar glanced at Raan. “She’s not Maara,” he observed.

Oyri spat into the sand. “It’s Korbyn’s fault. He taught them magic.”

Korbyn rose to his feet. “Did you know? Any of you, did you know that training a vessel could save him or her?” He turned to Liyana, and he knelt on one knee. “I swear to you. I did not deliberately keep this knowledge from the desert people. If I had known . . .”

Bayla churned. If you had known, what would you have done? Saved your vessel? I doubt that. You know as well as I do that we have responsibilities, and we need bodies to perform them.

Taking a breath, Liyana repeated Bayla’s words.

“If we can fulfill our responsibilities without causing death . . . ,” Korbyn began.

Sendar waved his hand at Liyana. “You aren’t revolted by this creature? A mortal is keeping her goddess caged inside of her. You should hate her for this crime, especially since the victim is your purported love.” Sendar lifted Liyana’s chin and stared into her eyes as if he could see Bayla within them. “Bayla, I love you enough to set you free, if there were but a way.”

Liyana felt Bayla’s emotions roil inside her—betrayal, pain, anger, all directed at Korbyn. I gave you my heart, and this is how you repay me. Loyalty to a sheep.

Just because he doesn’t want me to die doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you, Liyana thought at Bayla. It only means that he has a good heart.

The raven has no heart, Bayla said.

“Of course I love Bayla,” Korbyn said. “I simply do not see why Liyana should have to die if both souls can inhabit one body.”

“I think it’s her fault,” Raan whispered. “Maara. She won’t let me move.”

“Focus on your body,” Liyana said. She clasped Raan’s hand. “You don’t lack for willpower, Raan. You’re strong. You can do this.”

“You’re the strong one.” Raan closed her eyes as she winced. “It hurts. Why does my goddess hurt me?” She started to whimper.

I could hurt you, Bayla whispered.

Liyana froze. She felt as if her blood had chilled. Bayla churned inside her. “Our stories claim you choose vessels because of your great love for us. So why do you do this?” Liyana asked. She looked up at Korbyn and at Sendar, but her words were for Bayla. “You’re supposed to love us! To help us! If we don’t have to die, why kill us? Mulaf believes deities are parasites. Please, tell me he isn’t right!”

Korbyn looked ill. His hands shook, and he turned away from her.

“Bayla, fight this human,” Sendar said. “She poisons the very air with her words.”

Raan coughed again. “You are the poison.” She then closed her eyes, and her head lolled to the side. Her body twitched. After a moment she lay still, unconscious again.

“Raan!” Liyana shook her.

“I have had enough of this sacrilege,” Sendar said. “At dawn we split ways. I will lead my clan to intercept the army at the foot of the forbidden mountains. You will join us there. United, our clans will eliminate this scourge.”

“If this is a ploy to seize power—” Korbyn began.

Sendar scowled, his face tinting purple. “I am best able to lead!”

“Debatable,” Korbyn said. He held up a hand to forestall further argument. “We will fight alongside you.” He turned to Oyri. “And will the Silk Clan fight with us?”

“The Silk Clan does not need—” Oyri began.

“But you do,” Liyana pointed out. “You need help to rejoin your clan, and the clans need your help against the empire.”

Oyri opened her mouth and shut it.

“That is the price of my assistance,” Sendar said. “I will guide you to your clan if you will fight with us against the intruders.”

At last Oyri nodded.

“Still it won’t be enough,” Korbyn said. He began to pace. “We must contact as many other clans as we can. For clans who have their deities, use magic to reach them. For those without, send runners. Liyana, Bayla, and I will bring our clans, the Scorpion Clan, and the clans in the southern desert.”

You have until then to vacate this body, Bayla said. I will not face my clan trapped within you! She produced another sandstorm that knocked Liyana backward.

This time Liyana did not lose consciousness. She clung on as Bayla battered her from within. You’re my goddess! Why do you do this to me?

I want to breathe, to see, to feel, to eat, to sleep, to dance! With each word, the storm inside whipped faster. I want to walk the sands, embrace my lover, fight with my people! I want to live as was promised to me!

Softly, in a near whisper, Liyana said, But I don’t want to die. She felt as if the words were ripped out of her gut.

Immediately the wind died. Bayla fell silent.

Liyana felt a hand on her arm. She focused on Korbyn’s face. “Liyana?” he asked tentatively. “Bayla?”

“Liyana,” she said. And she turned away so she would not have to see whether he was pleased or disappointed.