Healed by Hope (15 page)

37

AFTER LUCIUS LEFT their chambers, Bonny collapsed face-first on the mattress and sobbed. Why was life so cruel? She had found the man she loved, the man she thought was just like her. And now she was losing him. When she heard a tap on her door, she almost swooned. Was it Lucius come back to say he was sorry? That it was all just a big mistake? That he would never leave her for anybody or anything?

She sat up cross-legged on the bed and tried her best to make herself presentable, though she realized that she must look terrible with her eyes all bloodshot.

But when the door swung open, she lowered her head and sighed. It wasn’t Lucius. Instead, the Asēkha peered into her quarters.

“May I enter?” Nīsa said.

Bonny gestured toward a desk with a lone wooden chair. “I don’t feel much like talking right now, but you can come in if you like.”

With the eerie grace of a Tugar, Nīsa entered and sat down on the chair, which creaked beneath his weight. It had not been built to hold such a large man.

“Do you remember our conversation a few nights back?” he said.

Bonny shook her heard. “I don’t care whether I remember or not. Like I say, I don’t feel much like talking.”

Nīsa leaned forward, his new staff laid across his knees. “I overheard much of what was said between you and Lucius earlier this evening. It’s not that I was sneaking around. In fact, I was on deck. It’s just that my hearing lately has been . . . enhanced.”

“And what did you hear that was so damn interesting?”

If he was offended, the Asēkha didn’t show it. “Lucius has undergone a dramatic change. A great part of it occurred last night on the forecastle.”

“Let me guess . . . you weren’t spying then either.”

Nīsa chuckled. “I admit I was curious. But more for your sake than mine.”

“Speak plainly!”

“Very well. I’ll tell you what I believe to be true. Lucius was never the man you thought he was or wanted him to be. He is not truly a man at all. Instead, he is a Daasa that has been twisted by Invictus into the appearance of a man.”

Bonny choked on her tears. “I want you to leave, Nīsa.”

The Asēkha shook his head. “Not until I’ve said what I came to say.”

Bonny’s eyes sprang wide. It was the first time Nīsa had ever been anything but respectful with her.

“Let me finish, and then I’ll go,” he said firmly. As if in response, the staff thrummed. “I just want you to be fully aware of your choices, of which there are two. You can stay with Lucius and join him with the Daasa. Or you can stay with the galleon and come with me.”

“I have a third choice. I could jump overboard and join
Ekadeva
in heaven.”

Nīsa did not take the bait, which made Bonny even angrier. “So, Master Wizard . . . what is it that you think I should do? Hmmmm? Stay with you and become your Concubeen?”

Nīsa seemed puzzled. “I’m not sure what a Concubeen is, but I’m not looking for sexual favors, if that’s what you mean. In fact, I want nothing from you at all. I offer my companionship as a gift . . . a gift that includes my protection. We will travel the world together—as comrades, not lovers—and years hence return to our homeland to see what we shall see.”

“Why offer this gift?”

“Because you are my friend.”

Bonny smiled. “You know what? I believe you . . . and I like you. But there’s one problem. I
love
Lucius—and I don’t want to lose him.”

“If you stay with him, in some ways you’ll lose him, and in some ways you won’t.” Then he ran his fingers through his lush black hair. “But you asked me to speak plainly. I believe that every Daasa knows the thoughts of all other Daasa. Yet you might find it encouraging that they seem to retain at least a portion of individuality. This must be necessary in order for them to avoid stagnancy.”

“And what about when they turn into monsters?”

“The Daasa are not so naïve as to believe that they live in a world without dangers. As Lucius said before, they use their pain and anger as a form of defense. It hurts them immeasurably to do this, but it’s their way of not wallowing in helplessness. In truth, I believe the Daasa to be highly realized beings.”

Bonny stared at Nīsa adoringly. “If I stay with Lucius, will he still love me?”

Nīsa leaned down and stroked her cheek. “I believe he would continue to love you—but not just you. He would love all the Daasa. Does this mean his love for you would be ‘watered down,’ as my Vasi master likes to say? From our current perception, maybe so. But who knows how it will feel to you once you join the pack?”

“And
Ekadeva
? If I do this thing, will he view me as a sinner?”

Nīsa shrugged. “I’m a Tugar and know nothing of your god. But I would think little of him, if he were to hold someone of your caliber in low regard.”

38

“SO MANY BIRDS. What does it mean?” Nīsa said to Iron Flint, the big-bellied crewman who fancied himself the Death-Knower’s personal attendant. Flint had been begging nonstop to be able to join Nīsa on his “walk around the world.”

“Master, even a Death-Knower can use another sword,” Flint had said several times a day since Nīsa had ascended. “If you let me come with you, you won’t be disappointed, I promise.”

“We shall see what we shall see,” had been Nīsa’s only answer. Now he stood on the forecastle on a bright, windy morning, leaning against his newly hewn staff. The whale ivory was whiter than the clouds and glowed so brightly it seemed to hurt Flint to look at it.

Nīsa watched a mass of gulls swarming on the western horizon. It was the twenty-third day of their voyage.

“What does it mean?” he repeated.

“It means we’ll reach land today, master. Probably in the late afternoon.”

“So soon? Surely the coast is several days hence.”

“Our voyage has been blessed by the
One God
,” said Flint, his blubbery lips spread into a broad grin. “Never before have I seen such friendly winds and so few storms.
Ekadeva
must like you—’cause I know it isn’t me he’s being nice to.” Then Flint grabbed his round stomach, threw back his head, and exploded in a fit of laughter.

Nīsa also laughed. “I doubt I have his favor, either.” Then he grew serious. “What do you call this land? Does it have a name?”

Flint wiped spittle off his lips with a sullied forearm. “We call it
Pacchima Dala
(Western Land). Being working men, we didn’t have time to think of anything fancier.”

Nīsa smirked. “I’m surprised you know the ancient tongue even that well, though it’s pronounced
Thala
, not
Dala
.”

Flint seemed put off. “We are working men, but we aren’t stupid men.” Then his face grew sheepish. “Sorry . . . I didn’t mean to offend you, master. Compared to someone like you, we
are
stupid men.”

Nīsa patted the pirate on his fleshy shoulder. “
Pacchima Dala
it is. Tell me, Flint, what is the western shore like? In my dreams, it is beautiful.”

“Oh, yes, master . . . very beautiful. The sand is wide and as white as the peak of Catu. And beyond the beach lie wondrous trees with fruit that is hard on the outside but sweet within. And there are Daasa—lots and lots of them. We used to anchor near shore and throw down a ramp, and they would walk onboard without a struggle. But that was in the days of the
Mahanta pEpa
. Who knows what they will do now? Maybe they will be very angry and kill us all. That’s one of the reasons I am glad you are around. Perhaps you will protect us with your mighty staff.”

“I doubt you will need such protection, Flint. But whether now or later, you will be punished for whatever transgressions you have committed. The odds are high you will be reborn as a pirate and have to live this kind of life all over again.”

This made Flint ecstatic. “That would be the best news ever! I’d rather do that than join the
One God
in heaven. All those clouds and the pretty music seem kind of boring to a working man like me.”

Nīsa rolled his eyes. “Like my Vasi master likes to say, ignorance is bliss.”

By late afternoon, land almost as flat as the sea was visible on the western horizon. As the galleon approached, Nīsa could see a wall of trees lining the beach, but the trees sat back a far ways from the water. In between the blue and green was a blanket of white sand.

Aboard the galleon, the Daasa chittered. Many already had leapt over the rails and were swimming excitedly toward shore, which still was half-a-mile distant.

“They will come soon, master,” Flint said in a serious tone.

Nīsa arched an eyebrow. “Many?”

“So many, the white sand will become pink.”

39

LUCIUS LEANED OVER the starboard rail and stared at the beach with wide eyes. It surprised him to find that he was laughing in a high-pitched manner that resembled the Daasa’s joyous chittering. He had never witnessed such beauty or smelled such sweet air, but now he was seeing it not just from his vantage point but from the vantage point of fifty thousand score. The Daasa were everywhere, spread throughout a lush, tropical landscape, and they were rushing toward the sea. They filled the beach and swarmed into the water, a single mind composed of a million minds.

Joy entered the firstborn from every angle, magnified by a psychic connection he now fully shared with these wonderful beings. He saw too their anger and pain, which the Daasa were able to funnel and store. When the need arose to defend themselves, they used the anger like fuel for fire.

But now there was little anger or pain. The demise of the
Mahanta pEpa
had freed the Daasa from the worst enemy they had ever encountered. Perhaps nowhere in the world were there creatures so naturally inclined to be loving, gentle, and playful.

Lucius discovered that joy was contagious. It felt so wonderful, he thought he might swoon.

Nīsa stared at his back. Lucius knew this through the eyes of the Daasa that stood behind the Death-Knower. Bonny was approaching him gingerly. Lucius felt a wave of love for her, generated not just from his own mind but from the minds of the Daasa still aboard their namesake. They loved Bonny too, so very much. They not only wanted him to be their king; they wanted her as their queen. She was one of them, after all. Acceptance was a foregone conclusion.

I can hear your thoughts.

This startled Lucius. Bonny was at least a stone’s throw away, yet it had felt as if she had whispered in his ear.
What do you hear?
he said without speaking.

That you love me.

Oh, yes! And so do they.

I can hear that too.
Then:
If I do this thing, will you keep on loving me?

I think you already know the answer.

Finally she joined him and pressed against his side.

Lucius laughed some more.

“I am their king!” he bellowed. And then he pushed away from her, leapt upon the rail, and dove into the warm water. Would Bonny follow?

He hoped so.

As did a million others.

40

BONNY COULD FEEL it too. The community beckoned her. The Daasa were like the ocean: one body of water with countless waves. The Daasa were like the forest: a single canopy composed of countless trees. The Daasa were like the beach: a blanket of white made up of countless grains of sand.

Bonny watched Lucius dive into the water, sink deep, and then burst above the surface. The firstborn flipped in the air, pierced the water again, and then swam with strong strokes toward the beach, where a spectacular gathering of pink-skinned creatures awaited.

“Like my Vasi master likes to say, it’s now or never,” came a powerful voice from above her. Bonny looked up at Nīsa, who stared down at her from the forecastle.

“Am I still welcome to come with you instead of staying with Lucius?”

“You are . . .”

A Daasa nuzzled one of her hands and then jumped into the water. More came to her, wagging their tails and rubbing against her before jumping into the sea. Again Bonny looked up at Nīsa. “If you ever come this away again, please stop by and say hello!” she said. Then she laughed. And jumped.

When she reached the beach, the Daasa swarmed around her. Their love smote her heart. Bonny stood among them and laughed. The Daasa mimicked her. She laughed some more.

“I love you, Bonny Calico,” Lucius said. “But I love them too. Is that okay?”

The voice was loud and clear.

He took her in his arms and held her tight.

Bonny surrendered . . . entirely.

King and queen, they stood together in their new kingdom.

Who’s in charge?

41

WHILE EATING A light breakfast in their chambers, Torg and Laylah revisited their previous night’s conversation about the baby. It relieved Torg that Laylah seemed to have returned to her old self, but neither he nor she believed that the change was guaranteed to be permanent.

“It . . .
he
 . . . is growing so fast it’s starting to hurt,” Laylah said with a grimace. “I can feel his power, Torg. It’s like I’ve swallowed a cinder. And I can sense his . . .
will
. There’s a part of me that loves him dearly, but another part that’s afraid.”

Torg arched an eyebrow. “Afraid? In what way?”

“Of what he might do to us . . . what he has already done to us. What if he becomes as powerful as his father? This time, we might not be able to stop him.”

Torg put his arm around her and kissed her on the cheek. “You and I will return to Anna as soon as possible. I will lay my hands on you then—and we shall see what we shall see.”

Laylah kissed him back. “If I become cruel or do something strange, you’ll understand why? You’ll remember that I love you beyond all else?”

“I will understand—and remember. I love you too, beyond all else.”

Afterward Torg and Laylah left their chambers and entered the city to meet with Podhana. The chieftain reported that most of Senasana had been cleansed. Then he asked Torg if he wanted patrols sent beyond the city’s borders to search for rogues. Torg nodded.

“Arrange for twenty-five score Tugars to remain behind and assign an Asēkha to lead them,” Torg said. “It will be their responsibility to hunt down any fiends who might have wandered into the Gray Plains.”

“And the rest of us?”

“You shall return to Anna.”

Podhana smiled. “With you and the queen? It shall be joyous, my lord.”

Torg shook his head. “She and I will arrive before you.”

Burly the enchanter heard this and was dismayed. “What are you saying,
Torgon
?”

Elu also was there. “You’re leaving us, again?”

Torg’s response was stern. “I answer to none among you. It is my desire to return to Anna with Laylah as quickly as possible. We do not have time for a long march. I hope to find Bhojja and ask her to carry us to the Tent City with haste—and she can’t carry all of us.”

Burly tapped Torg on the knee. “Allow me to come with you. Bhojja can carry two and a quarter, I’m sure—and I can be of service.”

The sorceress smiled and looked at Torg. “I’d like that.”

“It shall be so,” Torg said. Then he placed his hand on Elu’s shoulder. “It is my desire that you and Essīkka continue to march with the Tugars to Anna.”

The Svakaran seemed relieved. “It would be my honor,
great one
. As always, your word is my command.”

Torg turned back to Podhana. “It will take you more than a week to accomplish what will take Bhojja but a day. But if all goes well, the Tugars will finally be reunited in full force—with their king
and
queen to lead them.”

The chieftain glanced at Laylah’s stomach. “And a prince or princess as well, it appears.”

Torg grunted. “That is none of your business.”

Podhana sensed his discomfort. “I’m sorry, lord . . . I meant no offense.”

“Speak no more of it,” Torg said brusquely.

Just then, Rati trotted forward. “Lord! The white-haired lady awaits you in the plains east of the city. She says that you wish to meet with her.”

Torg and Laylah gave each other knowing glances. “Lead us,” Torg said.

Burly held his wand in the air and cast a tornadic swirl of sparkles. “Don’t forget me!”

“We have not,” Laylah said.

When they passed from Senasana into the Gray Plains, Jord was nowhere to be seen. But Bhojja stood in her stead, and their arrival seemed to please the great mare, who snorted and then stomped her hooves. She knelt and encouraged them to mount.

“The last time we rode her, we really had some fun,” Burly said to Torg before bounding onto Bhojja’s back. Then his face turned even redder than usual, and he looked at Laylah with embarrassment. “I was referring to our assault on the druid queen, of course.”

The sorceress laughed, and the sound filled Torg with joy. If he could get her to Anna quickly, perhaps the worst could be averted.

Podhana and Rati were there to say goodbye. “We will join you as quickly as we can,” the chieftain said. “Though many lives have been lost, it will still be a joyous time when the Tugars are together again.”

“Agreed,” Torg said. “
Kālakatānam sammānessāma ca jīvamānakānam pākatikarissāma
. (We will honor the dead and celebrate the living.)”

“Ema! Ema!”
the Asēkhas responded in unison.

Soon after, Bhojja carried Torg, Laylah, and Burly in the direction of Anna, her hooves a blur of grace and power. A huge cloud of dust formed in their wake, and from a distance it appeared that a herd of elephants was thundering across the Gray Plains, not a lone horse with three riders.

Though it would take the Tugars more than two days to march from Senasana to the outer border of Barranca, the great mare reached the rocky wasteland that encircled the Great Desert by early evening. The gibbous moon hung above them like a glowing eye, ever watchful and judgmental. Without prompting, Bhojja halted and knelt.

When they dismounted, Laylah’s legs were wobbly, and she unexpectedly swooned, banging the side of her head against a rock when she fell. Torg cursed himself for his lack of watchfulness, and he lifted her semi-conscious body and laid her on a nearby patch of grass. There was a small cut near her temple that was bleeding more than it should have. Torg used Obhasa to cauterize the wound, but not before angry yellow sparkles sizzled on the cut, as if attempting to repulse Torg’s blue-green magic.

“Laylah!” Torg said, attempting to wake her. “Are you all right?” But the sorceress remained incoherent. Torg turned to Burly. “Her fall was not this severe, especially for someone of her strength.”

Burly gestured toward Laylah’s bulging stomach. “Do you not sense the evil? Her body could not be in more peril if she had been forced to drink a jug of poison.”

Torg felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. Jord knelt behind him, her magical gown aglow.

“We should go no farther this night,” she said softly.

“No farther? What do you mean? Can’t you see that she’s ill? We must get her to Anna as soon as possible.”

“The moon is once again her enemy,” the Faerie said. “Peta told me it would be thus. But it is not just the moon.
We
are harming her, as well.”

In one swift movement, Torg grasped Jord’s thin arms and stood, lifting her off the ground so that her feet dangled in midair. “
I
am not harming her,” he snapped, though even as he said it he knew his words were false.

“Torg,” Burly said from far below. “You do not comprehend the Faerie’s words.”

“And you do?” Torg said.

“Put her down . . . and
listen
to her,” the enchanter pleaded.

Torg hesitated but then lowered Jord to the ground.

The Faerie stepped back. “You continue to doubt me,” she said. “Will you never trust me again?”

Torg sighed. Then he tried to speak more calmly. “How are we harming her?”

“The child within cannot abide our presence,” Jord said. “He is purposefully sickening the mother in order to quicken his escape.”

“Escape?” Burly said.

“To the unborn child, Laylah’s womb is a prison,” Jord said.

“But if he were born so soon, surely he would not survive,” the enchanter said.

“Perhaps not yet, but he is closer to being ready for birth than you might think.” Then she leaned toward Torg and whispered, “And he fears what the two of you might do to him while he remains helpless inside her.”

Burly shook his little fist. “What we
must
do to him,” he said to Torg. “And now . . . while Laylah sleeps!”

“No,” Torg said. “I promised Laylah that whatever happened would be her decision. Besides, we don’t know if destroying the boy might harm the mother.”

Burly dared to smack Torg on his knee. “Don’t you understand what’s at stake? If the boy becomes another Invictus, we’re doomed. Everything you’ve fought so hard to attain will be wasted. The time to strike is now. To provide such evil yet another chance to flourish would be criminal!”

Torg did not respond. Instead, he pointed at Jord. “What say you?”

“The words of Peta should not be ignored,” the Faerie said. “Before the ghost-child departed, she foresaw that the boy would be born . . . in Anna.”

Burly gasped, but Torg’s voice remained steady. “What else did she foresee?”

The Faerie lowered her gaze.

“Do I not deserve the truth?” Torg said.

“Now I agree with Torg,” Burly said. “By all means, Faerie . . .
answer
.”

Jord raised her head. She spoke in a near-whisper. “Peta said that Vedana would come for the boy.”

This time, Burly gasped so hard he started to choke. Then he began pacing frenetically. “Let me think . . . let me think. We . . . we can’t go to Anna! We’ve got to take Laylah somewhere else.
Hide
her somewhere.”

Torg stayed him with his hand. “It is not possible to hide someone from Vedana. She appears able to go anywhere and anyplace. Nay, we will not hide. Instead, we will fight Vedana. And Anna is the best place to do it.”

Then Torg went to Jord and knelt at her feet. “Tell me everything. What else did Peta say? Will the demon succeed?”

Jord also knelt, and she took Torg’s massive hands in her own. “
Torgon
, I swear to you that Peta’s vision did not extend beyond what I have told you, except for three other things of import. Peta said that you and Laylah would fight Vedana together. And she said that two others would join you in the final battle.”

“Aaaah!” Burly said. “That explains my presence.”

Jord showed no signs of assent.

“That is two things of import,” Torg said. “And the third?”

The Faerie spoke slowly, enunciating her words with precision. “She said that Vedana would be aided by a great dragon.”

Torg leaped to his feet. “Then we must get Laylah safely to Anna. Not even a dragon can stand against the Tugars.”

Torg rushed back to Laylah, who had been moaning occasionally but otherwise sleeping calmly while he was away. But when he sat down beside her, the sorceress began to tremble and sweat. Torg attempted to place Obhasa in her hands. So often before, his ivory staff had strengthened and comforted her. This time when it touched her flesh there was a crackling spark, causing Laylah to cry out. Torg stood and backed away, taking Obhasa with him. As soon as he did, the sorceress seemed to relax. Without saying a word, she returned to sleep.

“Her stomach glows,” Burly said.

Indeed, Laylah’s lower abdomen emitted a yellow light that wavered in the darkness.

“We should cover her,” Torg said. “It appears the less moonlight she absorbs, the better.”

“We didn’t expect that we’d have to stop,” Burly said. “You thought that we’d reach Anna by morning. We don’t even have a blanket, much less something to eat.”

“I have Cirāya,” Torg said. “It will suffice to keep us alive. But your point about the blanket is well-taken.”

“Allow me to make an attempt,” Jord said.

The Faerie approached within two paces of Laylah and transformed into Sakuna. The sorceress groaned but otherwise seemed able to tolerate the Faerie’s proximity, as long as she wasn’t touched. Then the huge mountain eagle spread her wings and formed a shroud over Laylah, blocking out most of the moonlight. The sorceress seemed to become more peaceful.

Torg and the enchanter stood nearby and watched until well past midnight. Finally Burly tugged on Torg’s breeches. “There’s nothing more we can do tonight. We should sleep too. Perhaps Laylah will feel stronger in the morning.”

Torg sighed. “After the eclipse, she was sick like this. It pains me to see it happening yet again. But I suppose you’re right.”

Torg then cast himself onto gray grass and fell instantly asleep, though Burly beat him to it.

Torg awoke to a clear, warm morning. Jord sat nearby, watching him. But Laylah had disappeared.

“Where is she?” Torg demanded.

“Be of ease,
Torgon
,” Jord said. “She has gone to relieve herself, that is all. The worst has passed. The sunlight has strengthened her.”

Just then, Laylah appeared from behind a massive boulder that marked the outer border of Barranca. “It’s all right,” she said. “I’m feeling much better. The baby seems to behave in the daytime.”

Torg walked toward her. “Can I touch you?” But when he came within two paces, she grimaced. Torg stopped. “I suppose not.” Then he tried to sound cheerful. “Well, at least I can look at you.”

Now the enchanter also was awake, and he trotted past Torg and tried to touch Laylah’s leg with his wand. But she gasped and backed away. Burly did the same.

“I’m . . . sorry,” she said. “If either of you gets too close, it hurts.”

“Does it pain you to touch Jord?” Torg said.

Laylah grimaced again.

This exasperated Torg. “Without Jord’s help, it will take us three hard days just to cross Barranca and at least that much longer to reach Anna—and the terrain is treacherous.”