Wrath of the White Tigress (10 page)

"Tell me of them," said Mardha.

"I will not. Such prophecies are my business to know and mine alone."

Seething with anger, Mardha stepped forward out of the protective circle. "You will tell me everything, witch, or you will suffer the wrath of my father."

A wave of intense vertigo swamped Mardha. She fell to her knees. The world was only shadows and stars, spinning rapidly. The stars closed in on her. She vomited. A high-pitched whine that had traveled for eons shrieked in her ears. Glaring spirits, alien and burning cold, closed in upon her. Inhuman, exacting, wrathful…

Hands reached out and drug her back within the circle. The vertigo and all the other sensations fled from her. She panted and spat bile from her throat.

"If you would please," Karphon said.

Mardha looked up. Her palymfar guards had drawn their sabers. One had his blade against Karphon's throat. The other faced Nalsyrra with blank, whitened eyes. The next moment the other's eyes glazed over as well.

Karphon sensed the difference and moved the palymfar's sword away. "Never mind."

He helped Mardha up. "You were lucky that Nalsyrra's charms shield me somewhat. Otherwise, I could not have pulled you back in."

Mardha cursed at Nalsyrra. "You could have done something."
 

"No, I could not. Otherwise, why would I draw the protective circle? The Star Spirits are not your Zhura demons. They are not cowed by arrogance and bluster, nor can your guile or your father's charms protect you. A single Star Spirit holds more power than all of us combined. If I could command them for more than a few moments, I would rule the world."

Mardha glared and thought of a dozen ways to kill Nalsyrra. But she reigned in her anger and swallowed her pride. Her father needed Karphon and his bitch. And the mistake was Mardha's. She was too impulsive and not used to being denied anything.
 

"Only this more have I read and can speak of," Nalsyrra said. "The omens read good for the coming war, and Mardha, you shall see Jaska again, though under what conditions, I do not know."

Mardha's anger eased somewhat as Nalsyrra dismissed the spirits and finished the ritual. Only then did the palymfar guards return to themselves, confused and groggy. Mardha convinced them everything was all right. Sensing the intent in her voice, they obeyed and showed neither surprise nor fear.

Mardha bowed to Karphon. "Thank you for your aid, Hmyr."

"I am sorry things went poorly. Hopefully you have learned what you needed to know."

"Some of it at least."

"Tell the Grandmaster the army will be prepared to leave in a week."

After Mardha left, Karphon stalked about the balcony. "You could have told me about Bavadi."

"I am sorry, master."

"If Salahn falls to some plot of the White Tigress, so will I. You really should have told me."

"If such a time were to come, as long as you guarded yourself wisely, you could remain a great Hmyr."

"Will such a time come?"

"I cannot say."

"Cannot or will not?"

She smiled seductively and leaned back, exposing her body. "Cannot."

He noticed then her nakedness. His sex rose and ached with its sudden hardness. He could discuss this with her later. After all, she never left his side. And lovemaking always proved best on the rooftop with traces of the Star Spirits hovering about.

~~~

Moonlight fell through the skylight above and cast Grandmaster Salahn in shadows as he sat on his throne in the Grand Temple. He was worrying about Jaska and how to manage without him. Without his chief disciple, he had to redistribute many responsibilities within the order and himself handle many planning aspects he had ignored for the last decade. Also, mastering the White Tigress' power was taking longer than he had expected. Energy flowed through him differently now and disrupted many magical techniques he had spent decades perfecting. He had also lost his domination over most of the demons under his control. He could only reliably summon and control a few dozen of them now.

Familiar footsteps pattered through the temple. Salahn smiled for a moment as he considered the benefits of having a younger and enhanced body.
 

Mardha knelt before her master, her lover, and her father.
 

In the air he traced a pentagram within a circle and everywhere his finger went, blood-red flame followed, lighting the sanctuary. When finished, he allowed the glowing diagram to rise and rest against the stone wall above him. He examined Mardha carefully before speaking.
 

"You look shaken, daughter. And you reek of Nalsyrra's sorcery."

Mardha bowed her head and whispered, "I nearly died tonight. She commands far more power than I thought."
 

Grandmaster Salahn tugged at his beard. His dark eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. "Explain."

He listened attentively, making no comment until she finished. "That was foolish. Nalsyrra's sorceries are extremely powerful, though more limited than mine."

"What game is Nalsyrra playing, father? She is always hiding things from us and from Karphon, too."

"I cannot tell what her motives might be. From what little I have uncovered about the Ojaka'ari cultists, their beloved destinies are far-reaching. She might be here to set in motion events that will culminate years from now. We cannot trust her as we do Karphon, but for the moment, she poses no obvious threat and she might even be here to help us. Certainly, we owe much of what we have accomplished so far to her efforts.

"Now tell me what you have learned of Jaska."

"Your spell that detected his life-force was accurate," she said, and then she told him what few other details Nalsyrra had given her.

Salahn boiled with anger, his rage driven by fear. "One of our search groups perished tonight. I sensed their demise. They fell swiftly."

"The priestess?"

"Who else could it be?"

"How could she defeat twelve palymfar? She doesn't have that much power."

"Indeed. And now you confirm Jaska's presence…"

"You don't think he helped them?"

"I can think of no other way. Jaska has betrayed us."

"The priestess might have him under her sway. Even Jaska couldn't hold out forever if he was sick and injured, especially since he has been bound in such a way for so long."

Salahn restrained his anger. "You are right. I should not forget other possibilities. Still, until proven otherwise, Jaska is now our enemy, and he must be eliminated at all costs."

"Will you see to it personally?"

"I am not ready to leave here yet. I have preparations to make within the Shadowland. I will not get the planetary alignments I need again for another decade. We shall send Adynarh, a sorcerer, and fifty warriors."

Grandmaster Salahn stood and lifted Mardha up by the hand. He drew her into an embrace. One hand slid down her back while the other squeezed a breast. His breath touched her ear.
 

Then he shoved her away and slapped her with the back of his hand. Though he withheld most of his strength, the attack knocked her several paces back. Blood sprayed from her busted lip and nose as she struck the floor.
 

"Never do anything so foolish again," Salahn said as he stalked forward.
 

She spat blood as she murmured, "Yes, father." Her jaw barely moved. It was probably fractured. He would heal it later, though, if she didn't further displease him.

Salahn ripped the gown from her body. Then he shoved her face-down against the hard stone floor and took her. His body pounded against hers until she cried out, gasping in the throes of both pleasure and pain, blood dripping from her face onto the floor.

Salima's Pass meandered for sixty miles through the jagged Wedawed Mountains. At the widest point, the pass measured a hundred feet across. At the narrowest, a small cart could barely squeeze through. Along the sides of the pass, rust-colored rock cascaded downward like melted candle wax. According to legend, when Taal Eos the Sun King set the giant Epros Bull on fire for trampling his grandson, the maddened beast had plunged through the mountain to scorch the land of Hareez before expiring.
 

Later, the people of Hareez had named the pass after Salima, a Prophet of the Pale Lords, who had fled religious persecution in Epros only to attain martyrdom at the hands of savage nomads on the opposite side.
 

Jaska led them into the pass, keeping to himself and saying nothing more than he must. When he wasn't brooding about the past robbed from him or the evils he had done, he thought about Salima's sigils. At regular intervals, the prophet had carved intricate symbols whose meaning had been forgotten after two centuries.
 

When they stopped at one of the many springs that ran along the wall, springs Salima was said to have created with her tears, Jaska examined one of the sigils up close. The circular pattern seemed haphazardly carved but was strangely familiar to him.

Zyrella approached. "Can you read them?"

"No, but somehow they speak to me. The Pale Lords that Salima worshiped, do you know what they're supposed to look like?"

"According to the stories I've heard, the Lords of Retribution wear silver armor, ride horses of fire, and wield swords of silver flame which seems right since most believe them to have been Avida-djinn, children of the Bright Moon, hunters of shadows."

"I have felt powerful beings riding on the winds above us, and sometimes out of the corners of my eyes I will catch a glimpse of beings like you describe. But when I look, they're gone."

Zyrella furrowed her brow. "I haven't experienced anything like that or sensed any presences."

Jaska shrugged. "Perhaps I've lost my sanity."

"Maybe it's the mark of the Tigress. Some of her essence flows through you, transferred there when she revived you. I can see it when I open my witch-sight, and when I peer into the Shadowland, you glow with a brilliance twice my own."

Jaska traced the symbol with his index finger. A trickle of power flowed into him. He could feel the presence of the Pale Lords, like whispered secrets he felt he should know. And they sparked his desire for defeating Salahn, for destroying the tyrannical order he had helped to create.
 

"The symbols seem so familiar to me."

"You have been through here before many times," Ohzikar replied. "You said so yourself."

"But I never really paid any attention to the drawings. To me, these were the marks of demons. I'm surprised I didn't try to destroy them."

"They can't be harmed," Zyrella said. "Many zealots have tried over the years."

Jaska traced the sigil one last time. "The depth of the carving varies, seemingly with purpose. I know I have seen them somewhere else." Jaska stared at the mark for a while longer then shook his head. "We should keep moving."

~~~

Their wan firelight flickered within the traveler's niche, one of three natural, bow-shaped hollows cut into the walls. Cold winds howled through the narrow pass as always, but the niche provided some shelter. Ohzikar and Zyrella huddled upwind from the fire. Jaska sat downwind near the horses, oblivious to the smell of burning dung. With his arms around his knees, Jaska stared through firelight and darkness, eyes focused on one of Salima's spiraling signs. Faint sparks meandered through his qavra.

Ohzikar whispered to Zyrella. "He's a haunted man."

"What man wouldn't be in his situation?"

"Yes, but it's more than that. He sees things in this pass. I've watched his eyes, wild and wandering. He looks for more than enemies. And these visions of the Pale Lords…"

Zyrella glanced at Jaska and noticed the activity within his qavra as it responded to his meditative state.
 

"He'll never recover, you know. No matter what he does, he'll always be scarred."

Zyrella admired Jaska's stern, handsome face. He reminded her of a majestic desert hawk. A wounded hawk that she wished she could nurse back to health.

Ohzikar's voice grew cold. "Ella, why are you drawn to him?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Don't play games with me. You're attracted to him."

"And why should it bother you if I am?"

"Why should it not? It's unnatural to be drawn to a murderer."

"That was someone else."

"This man lives with the weight of all those deaths, and that weight will break him in the end."

"I think you're wrong," she said. "And my attraction to him doesn't matter. It means nothing."

"If you say so. But I think it's odd, and you should be careful." Ohzikar put his arm around her. "I'm sorry, Ella. I don't want to be overbearing, but I'm worried about you."

She snuggled up against him. "I know. Trust me, I wish I wasn't drawn to him. It's not something of my choosing."

"Promise me you won't act on this desire."

"Ohzi…" She thought of many promises, but what she felt for Jaska dizzied her senses, clouded her thoughts. "I can't promise that anymore than I can help being drawn to him."