Path of Honor (33 page)

Saljane crooned in her mind.

She sounded absolutely certain, without any hint of envy or doubt. Reisil relaxed slightly. But she couldn’t shake a certain feeling of tension and anger. The anger was directed primarily at the Verit, but also at Baku and Yohuac. She knew it wasn’t fair. She didn’t even know their story. But she hated what they represented. More demands, more secrets. As if she weren’t already straining under enough of those. It reminded her too much of Sodur. How everything he asked of her was always about manipulating her, getting her to fall in with his plots. Was she to become a pawn to these two as well? Was she always to be at the mercy of others’ so-called wisdom, never free to choose her own path?

With every step, her anger grew hotter. Reisil stalked back to her quarters. She reached for the handle of her door, realizing that she was not to have any privacy at all, and that Baku was not going to fit through the doorway.

Reisil spun around. “Baku isn’t going to fit,” she declared in an accusing tone.

Yohuac stiffened and took a half-step back. Then inexplicably he dropped to his knees, bowing down low to touch his head to the carpet, his hands spread wide to the side and pressed flat against the floor. It was an attitude of utter subjection.

Reisil stared. “What are you doing?”

He was mumbling something. She crouched down. It was a chant, and she didn’t recognize the words. Except one: nahualli. He repeated the chant several times, seemingly with no intention of stopping.

Reisil shoved impatiently to her feet. “Fine. Sleep there. Or better yet, go find someone else to bother.”

She slammed the door, fuming. “Couldn’t someone show up wanting to help me?”

“Yes, unbonded
ahalad-kaaslane
. More likely She wants me to help them find their bond.”

Reisil grinned reluctantly.
~I’d just as soon have the recipe for curing the plague.

Before Saljane could reply, a forlorn, yowling sound burrowed through the door and raised the hair on Reisil’s arms. It was a soft, desperate cry and it melted Reisil’s ire. She returned to the door and opened it. Outside Baku crouched over a kneeling Yohuac, who looked pained and guilt-ridden. The coal-drake stared at Reisil and then brushed his muzzle against Yohuac’s hair and made the cry again.

Reisil sighed. “All right. But please get up off the floor.”

She went to seat herself in an overstuffed chair by the fire. She heard a faint noise behind her, and when she turned, she found Baku inside, standing beside Yohuac.

“Neat trick,” she said dryly, lifting Saljane down from her shoulders and cradling the goshawk on her lap.

Yohuac hesitated and then dropped to the floor cross-legged. Baku hunched down, wrapping his tail around himself like a cat, careful not to knock over any furniture. He rested his big head on the floor between Reisil and Yohuac. Reisil realized that Yohuac wasn’t going to be the first to speak. “What was that out there?” She waved her arm at the door.

He answered slowly, as if picking his words carefully. “It is customary to apologize in such fashion when you have offended a nahualli.”

Reisil rubbed her forehead. “That’s an apology? You were groveling. And you did this in my doorway because—?”

His eyes flicked to the ivy on her cheek. Oh. That. Reisil sighed again. “It starts glowing when I get angry. And when I do magic. And if that bothers you, wait until you see what happens to my eyes. But please, let’s have no more of that.” She waved again toward the door. “If you don’t want me to be angry, you can answer some questions.” She lifted her brows challengingly, and he nodded.

“Why don’t you start with where you came from and why you’re looking for me.”

~I could pass it from his mind to yours,
Baku offered swiftly.

Reisil thought about it a moment and then shook her head. It was a disturbing thought, looking at someone else’s memories and thoughts. It seemed more than intrusive—a violation. Even if he allowed it. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to share that much with anyone besides Saljane. She wasn’t even comfortable just talking mind-to-mind with Baku.

~As you wish
, Baku said, closing his eyes indifferently. But it was a façade.

Unaware of the exchange, Yohuac began his story in a careful, fluid voice. “My land is called Cemanahuatl. It is a rich, green land of tangled jungles, heavy rains, thick mists, great rivers and tall mountains. We have one great city and many villages. Ours is a tribal people, and each tribe is guided by nahuallis. Witch women. Like you.

“Nearly three years ago, something happened. It wrenched the seams of our land and soon rains increased and snow fell low on the mountain slopes—much lower than ever before, and much earlier. Tribes have been forced to move from their lands. The Citialin lost half their population to a mudslide. Their entire village and all their farmlands were wiped out. They were the most prosperous of any of the tribes. There have been terrible diseases and ravening creatures killing dozens of people. Those sent to hunt them don’t come back, and no one ever finds their bodies.

“In the last year things have grown worse. Children grow stunted, and fewer and fewer women are fertile. There has been a blight on the kalmut and bean fields. Many tribes have used up the prey in their territories and have been forced to move. There has been bloodletting, and soon there will be war between many. What are the
tecuhtli
to do? The people have to eat and the
tecuhtli
must lead, though the nahuallis object. But the nahuallis have been able to do little. The have located the source of the corruption at Mococoa, a valley sacred to the Teotl, the Fifty-two Gods. But more they have not done. They do not know where it comes from. At first they thought it a curse made by one of the Teotl, to be repealed with sacrifices. But now they know it is something else. If we do not discover how to stop it, we will die.”

He paused, frowning as he drew a deep breath, and Reisil heard his stomach growl.

“You are hungry,” she said, bringing him a half-loaf of brown bread, a crock of fruit preserves and a pitcher of water. She returned to her seat, watching him tear into the bread. She had so many questions and hardly knew where to begin. She began with the one that confused her most.

“I’ve never heard of Cemanahuatl. Where is it?”

Yohuac set the bread down, rubbing his hand over his lips, his gaze troubled. “I do not know.”

Reisil stared.

“The nahuallis opened a passage through—” He shook his head. “They took me to the Monequi—where the names of the gods are carved. They told me I was to seek the nahualli with the gold ivy on her face. Then they cast a great spell and opened a door into nothing. When I stepped through, I was elsewhere. High in mountains I had never seen before. Not even the plants or animals were familiar. It was cold. That’s when Baku found me.”

He closed his eyes, his face spasming. “And you refused the bond,” she prompted softly.

“I am not of your world. Baku has been my guide and has given me your language and customs. But I cannot remain here. I cannot serve your Lady. I have . . . I have another destiny.”

And what might that be?
But Reisil didn’t ask. His face was shuttered against further questions. “All right. So why come searching for me? What do these nahuallis of yours hope for?”

Yohuac settled his forearms on his knees, hands dangling loosely. “When it became clear that the destruction was no curse from the gods, the nahuallis from many villages gathered in one of the sacred places. Together they performed a great magic. Some died in the effort. But what they learned was this. The corruption has its roots in your world. And that someone must seek you out.”

“Why?”

He shook his head. “I do not know. I do not know if they themselves know.”

“What about Baku? What did he tell you?” She glanced at Baku, but his eyes remained closed as if sleeping. He did not offer any answer.

“We have not spoken much.”

Reisil nodded, recalling those painful days after she’d refused her bond with Saljane. She smiled down at the goshawk nestled in her lap and stroked her back.

A noise rumbled in Baku’s chest. She’d forgotten he still lurked in her mind and felt a pang of guilt. His anger flared suddenly, and his bitter rage swarmed her again. She collapsed in her chair, unable to move, still unwilling to sever him from her mind. The healer in her knew how much he needed the connection, how painful Yohuac’s denial was. But she felt the edges of her consciousness fraying, felt herself sliding down into black nothingness.

“Baku. Baku! Stop! Stop it now!” Yohuac stood over her, his cheeks flushed, grasping her chin in a firm grip, his other hand on her shoulder to steady her.

Reisil drew a deep, ragged breath, and then another, as Baku withdrew sulkily from her mind.

“Easy. Breathe slowly.” Yohuac’s voice was gentle, and he moved his hands to her shoulders, where he rubbed at her knotted muscles. He smelled of wind and woodsmoke. Reisil relaxed into his touch, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against her chair. Yohuac continued rubbing her shoulders for several minutes and then stepped away.

Reisil opened her eyes languidly. “Thank you.”

Yohuac nodded and dropped back to the floor.

Exhaustion caught up with Reisil, and she fought the heavy weight dragging at her. “So why send you?”

He shrugged, looking away, lips pulling tight. “The nahuallis chose me.”

“But you know why.”

“Yes.”

“And?” When he didn’t answer, Reisil pushed again. “Secrets aren’t going to help. I know that much at least.”

He considered for a moment and then nodded, still looking away as he spoke. “I am the first son of the Oceotl tribe. I am the greatest hunter, and the most skilled in fighting. For this I was selected.” He stopped, but Reisil waited, sensing there was more. “The nahuallis are women. My sisters and mother are nahualli, as are all the women ancestors of my line. No man has ever been known to show such abilities. Except me.”

“You?” Reisil leaned forward, coming fully awake. “You can use magic?”

He shook his head. “I am not trained. But as I said, I have a destiny. If I do not return . . . It was thought that to send me was to also offer a great sacrifice and thus gain the gods’ goodwill.”

Reisil stared, dumbfounded.

“And now I have arrived, and you tell me that you cannot help.”

Reisil lifted one shoulder. “We too are facing many problems akin to yours. A plague, drought, dangerous creatures. A few years ago our enemies attacked a town on the border between Kodu Riik and Patverseme. The wizards cast some sort of spell there. Mysane Kosk was destroyed. Or so we thought. We still aren’t sure what they did. But we know now it’s the cause of our troubles, and from your description, somehow it’s the cause of yours.”

She held out her hands, turning them over. “I have some magical ability, but like you, I am not trained.”

“Do you say there is no hope?”

Reisil shook her head even as her heart quailed. She wasn’t ready to give up yet. “The wizards who destroyed Mysane Kosk were banished, and no one knows where to find them. They are the only ones who know what they have done and how to reverse it.”

“You think they will tell you this?”

“They don’t have any reason not to.” Except that she’d killed a hundred of them. “The war is over and they’ve no reason to want the destruction to continue.” Except their hatred for Kodu Riik, except their need for a new land now that they’d been banished.

“When will you seek them?”

Reisil’s lips twisted as if she’d bitten into a crab apple. “It’s not that easy. I also serve, and I am told I am more valuable here.”

“You do not believe it.”

She shrugged. “For now. Until I can figure out the next step. Between you and the Scallacians, I’m not sure what to do.” She brushed several strands of loose hair from her forehead. “For now you must pretend to be
ahalad-kaaslane
. They still might try to kill you, but you’re the first
ahalad-kaaslane
pairing since the Lady’s withdrawal. Which suggests She’s not so far gone after all. That will help keep you safe.”

She turned to Baku, who was looking at her now, reinforcing her thoughts with words. “There are those who want to kill me. They’ve tried twice now, and when you overwhelm my mind, I am helpless. If you don’t want me dead, you have to control yourself.”

“Who wants to kill you?” Yohuac demanded.

“At this point, I’m only certain of who doesn’t. And I can count them on one hand.”

“We will guard you,” Yohuac declared, and Baku snorted agreement.

Reisil smiled. If they expected an argument, they weren’t getting one. “I’m going to bed. You two make yourselves as comfortable as you can. There are blankets there. I have an appointment at dawn, which,” she said yawning, “is all of a couple hours away. Good night.”

And with that she settled Saljane on her perch, stripped off her boots, and climbed into bed, not bothering to undress. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, dreaming of tunnels of stone lit by shining jewels and colored fire.

E
melovi sat hunched on her bed, knuckles pressed against her lips. Dared she go? She couldn’t wait much longer if she didn’t want Aare to catch her. Her legs twitched, and she swallowed, mouth dry. He was angry. If he caught her . . . Fear raced like spiders along her spine. She scooted up onto her pillows and shoved her feet under the bedclothes.