The Rage of Dragons (The Burning Books #1) (22 page)

She was sitting on the same bench. She was the only one in the circle.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” she said, standing.

Tau went to her and didn’t know quite what to do when he got there.

“You could hold me,” she told him.

He wrapped her up in his arms. She melted into him and he sighed at the feel of her.

“I think of you almost as much as my training,” Tau said.

“That much? You shouldn’t,” she said, her voice edging toward laughter.

“I… I think of training all the time. It’s a lot, really.”

“I’m sure.” She laughed that time and drew back slightly, so they could look at each other.

Seeing her calmed him.

“I heard you won,” she said.

“We did.” Tau couldn’t take the pride from his voice. “We beat the Indlovu and their Enervator.”

“It caused a stir. Preceptor Inti has been removed from teaching duties. They’re sending her to the front, to fight, and the initiate, Namisa, she’ll be doing newcomer lessons for the next four moon cycles.”

Tau hadn’t thought of that, how the ones on the other side, the losing side, would suffer for being part of such a dramatic failure. “I’m not happy to hear that, but we deserved to win. The odds are heavily weighted against us and we beat them.”

“You had three times the men.”

“They’re Nobles, and the citadel fields initiates from all three cycles of training. They had an Enervator,” Tau said, to drive the point home.

“Namisa is barely that.”

“She knew her work well enough to cause me to lose an arm to a demon.” His words shocked Zuri, and none of this was going the way he wanted.

“She held you long enough for a demon to attack?”

“I saw one eat the face off an Indlovu.”

“She sent a Noble to Isihogo?”

“She sent the lot of us, Ihashe and Indlovu. Is that not acceptable, if the Gifted can save herself in the bargain?”

Zuri’s voice went hard. “Not in a skirmish.”

“Ah.” Tau was beginning to understand why Namisa and her preceptor’s punishments had been so harsh.

“My first skirmish was a few days ago,” Zuri offered.

“You could have faced us?”

“It was a scale from the Northern Isikolo.”

“You won?”

“Of course.”

“Of course,” Tau repeated, rolling the words in his mouth like they were rotten.

“You know what I mean,” Zuri said.

“What it’s like? Fighting on their side?”

“Whose side? The Omehi?”

“You know what I mean,” Tau said.

“I don’t. We all train to defend our people against the hedeni.”

“Then, why are the skirmishes set up so Lessers lose?”

“They’re not. Lessers can rise up the scale ranks as the citadels do. Lessers can win the Queen’s Melee.”

“When did that happen last?”

Zuri was no longer in Tau’s arms. “What do you want me to say?” she asked.

“This isn’t how I wanted this to go.”

“Should I leave?”

“No,” he said. “Can I start over?”

“How does that work?”

“How are you? How is the Gifted Citadel?” Tau asked.

Zuri sat on the bench, leaving room for him. He sat.

“It’s incredible. It’s horrible,” she said. “Discovering what I can do, how far I can go, it gets so I can barely sleep. I’m scared to waste even a moment of learning. But that makes me complicit. If I take the power and ignore the cost, I’m not so different from the worst of them.”

“The worst of them?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You can tell me,” Tau said, thinking it very much sounded like she wanted to talk about it.

She took his hand but said nothing. He slipped his fingers out of hers so he could put his arm around her shoulders. He gave her his far hand to hold instead. She leaned against him and they sat like that for a time, letting the day turn from dusk to evening.

“I’ll have to go,” he said.

“I know.”

“I’ll come back.”

“Next skirmish.”

“Will you—”

“Of course. I’ll wait.”

Tau nodded, didn’t want to spoil the evening, but had more he needed from Zuri. “Can I… may I ask two questions?”

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s formal.”

“Ah…”

“Of course, go ahead.”

Tau hesitated, unsure if he wanted to know. “What scale is Kellan Okar in?”

She was staring at him, and for a moment, he didn’t think she’d answer. “Scale Osa,” she said.

Tau let out the breath he’d been holding, his mind going over and over Jayyed’s words, “I’d face down dragon fire if Scales Osa and Omondi didn’t qualify.” That’s what he’d said.

“Do you still want to ask your second question?”

“Neh?”

“You said you had two questions.”

The second question mattered more, now that he knew Kellan was part of Scale Osa. “The Gifted…”

“What about us?” Zuri asked, emphasizing the last word.

“How does enervation work?”

Zuri sighed and lifted her head from his shoulder. “How did you get the scar? Was it… Lekan?”

“Lekan.”

She turned to him and really looked at it. Tau didn’t think of himself as vain, but it was uncomfortable, having her study the mark that marred him. Zuri lifted a hand to his face and let her fingers rest below the puckered flesh on his right cheek.

She let her hand fall, lowering her head. “The first part you know. Enervation pulls a man’s soul out of this realm and into another. To understand the Gifted, our abilities, and enervation, you need to understand the realm to which your soul is sent. You need to understand Isihogo.”

“I see,” said Tau.

“No, you don’t. Isihogo is the realm of Ukufa and his demons. It is the prison the Goddess made to hold them.”

Tau performed his daily prayers but would never have called himself religious. Still, at mention of Ukufa he made the symbol of the dragon span, warding away evil.

Zuri noticed his quick hand movement and the corner of her mouth twitched upward. “Yes, well, everything began with Ananthi when She spun the universe out of Her desire for more. She created the sun, stars, Uhmlaba, and all that is between them.”

“I remember hearing this when I was a child.”

“You’re the one who asked,” she said.

“About enervation.”

“This is about enervation.”

Tau kept silent.

“Anathi created everything. She created life. She made all the creatures and She made all the races of man, each of them unique in the way they commune with Her.”

“Gifts.”

“Gifts. Every race has unique capabilities,” Zuri said. “And Ananthi continued to create, seeking perfection in what She had begun. The races of man, however, were combative, destructive. Ananthi needed to create order among them. To do this, She set the races of man tests. These were tests of service, honor, will, passion, empathy, and intelligence. It took a thousand cycles for the tests to be complete, and when they were done, Ananthi created order.

“The castes.”

“More than that. She made the Omehi Her Chosen and placed all others below us. We are Ananthi’s voice on Uhmlaba, and that did not sit well with Ukufa.

“Ukufa was a man and, like all the first women and men, he was immortal. He held his jealousy in check for a time, but as the eons slipped by, his hate for being less than his betters did not subside.

“He gathered a following, women and men from many of the races, and corrupted them with lies. He told them Anathi had decided to end their immortality, that She would let them die. He told them that if they used their gifts together, they could drain Ananthi, pass Her power into him, and he could prevent Her from damning them with death.

“The corrupted women and men did as Ukufa bid and attacked Ananthi. We, the Omehi, saw Ananthi’s need and led the faithful races of man to Her aid. We did not come soon enough.

“Ukufa had gained power beyond the abilities of other men, and the fight that followed was so devastating it split the earth into masses of land divided by rivers that became seas, seas that became oceans. The sky, once pure and whole, smoked and burned. The fields, flat and bountiful, dried and cracked, until all the races of man grew fearful that Uhmlaba would turn too desolate a place to sustain life.

“The Omehi, determined to prevent an apocalypse, gathered their might and attacked, forcing Ukufa and the ones he had corrupted back, but we could not finish them. We were going to lose. Anathi was weak, too weak, but it fell to Her to end the war. She was the only one who could. So, She did.

“Using all She was, Ananthi wrapped herself around Ukufa and his corrupted, trapping them. She used the energy of Her being to form a prison, an impenetrable new realm.

“Ukufa, already trapped and seeing his defeat was inevitable, could still use his powers. He reached beyond the prison before Ananthi could seal it and drew the natural energy from Uhmlaba, pulling as much of it as he could into Ananthi’s prison. It was in that final attack that the races of man lost their immortality. Ukufa’s evil actions made his lies true, and worse.

“Fear of death broke the weakest among us and these weakest called out to Ukufa. The prison was breaths away from closing forever, but in those breaths, Ukufa made his offer. He promised immortality to those calling to him, immortality in exchange for their souls and service.

“The cowards accepted, swearing to kill us all. They swore they would eliminate Ananthi’s Chosen and, in so doing, destroy Ananthi, allowing Ukufa to escape the prison. In this way, the weakest among us became the strongest, for though they can be killed, they do not die from age or sickness.”

“You’re describing the Cull,” said Tau.

“I am.”

“The Cull are a tale, meant to frighten children into doing their prayers,” Tau said.

“I am telling you what we are taught at the citadel.”

“They teach make-believe?”

“Shall I finish?”

“Is the rest a child’s tale too?”

“Fine,” said Zuri, turning away.

Tau grimaced. “Go on. Please.”

Zuri sighed but turned back. “Ukufa stole the energy Ananthi left for our realm and pulled it into his prison. There is nothing left of Ananthi in Uhmlaba, which means our powers must come from Isihogo. This is because Ananthi is Isihogo. Her essence forms both the realm and the barrier that Ukufa and his corrupted may never pass. So, if we are to use Her gifts, we must enter the underworld and use them from there. All the races can do this, and every man, woman, and child can enter Isihogo.”

“All? It’s forbidden for any but Gifted to let themselves slip to the underworld.”

“Yes, and you are warned away for good reason. The demon took your arm, you said?”

“I… I fought but couldn’t beat it.”

“No, you couldn’t. Thankfully, the harm they do cannot transfer to Uhmlaba, unless—”

Tau’s eyes widened. “Unless?”

“Unless you draw power from Isihogo.”

“Only Gifted can do that.”

“No, anyone can do it.”

“Everyone is Gifted?”

“I didn’t say that,” Zuri said.

“You’re losing me on this path.”

“Everyone can enter Isihogo, but the corrupted, the demons, attack all living souls, seeking vengeance for their imprisonment. They can do no physical harm, so long as the soul they seek to destroy does not draw energy from Isihogo. Drawing energy from the underworld makes you corporeal there.”

“The entire purpose of being Gifted is to draw energy from Isihogo. Why don’t demons kill Gifted?”

“They…” Zuri stopped herself. “You are asking what makes someone Gifted. The answer is that Ananthi gave us the ability to hide from the demons.”

“Hide?… Ah, I think I saw that. The Enervator—”

“Namisa.”

“Yes! In Isihogo, my body and the bodies of the other fighters were cloaked in golden light—”

“The light is your soul. It draws the demons.”

“Namisa had no soul light. She was all darkness.”

“That’s half-right,” Zuri said. “Namisa has a soul, and it must shine in Isihogo, but she can shroud it. That is the definition of being Gifted. It is not being able to enter and draw energy from Isihogo. Everyone can do that. It is the ability to shroud your soul’s light for long enough to draw, then use the energy.”

“How long?” asked Tau.

“How long what? Can we shroud? It’s individual and depends on the strength of your gift.”

“How do you strengthen your gift?”

“It doesn’t… You’re born with your gift. It’s always the same.”

“You can’t improve it? Train it? Why are you at the citadel? For the stories?”

Zuri did not look amused. “We are here to learn how to use the strength we are given.”

Tau frowned, trying to place this in terms that would make sense as a fighter. “You can’t train your gift?”

“It is a gift.”

“So is my body. I can train that, make it stronger, faster.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Perhaps,” Tau responded, earning himself a cold look. “Either way, what happens if you take energy from Isihogo and are found by the demons?”

“We are killed.”

“Like in Daba…”

“What?”

“During the raid on Daba, there were five Gifted with the Entreater who called the dragon.”

Zuri’s face changed. Yes…,” she said.

“A demon must have found one of the Gifted. She died without any cause that I could see, but… she wasn’t using power. The Entreater was, but the one who died, she was just standing there.”

Zuri said nothing. It gave Tau pause. He could tell she was hiding something. He thought to press her but still didn’t have what he needed. It was enervation that interested him. “If I don’t take power from Isihogo, is there anything the demons can do to me?”

Zuri relaxed, a little. “No, nothing real, but the demon-haunted—”

“The crazy ones who see things?”

“They’re not crazy. It’s just… some people break after a demon attack.”

“It feels real. The pain, the fear, all of it feels real.” Tau clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Can one learn to hide?” he asked.

“Have you listened at all? The ability to shroud is what it means to be Gifted. You are either born with it or without. That, like the strength of the gift, does not and cannot change. Also, among the Chosen, only women are ever Gifted. It’s why the citadel tests every Omehi girl when she becomes a woman. The testers teach us how to shift to Isihogo and how to leave it. They show us how to shroud ourselves. We flee the underworld before the demons attack, and the test is repeated as many times as needed to confirm each new woman’s gift, or lack of it.”

“Every Omehi woman has faced a demon?” Tau shook his head, trying to picture his mother doing it. “No one talks about that.”

“It’s not something you talk about.”

“No,” said Tau, recalling his own experience. “It’s not.”

“So, other than shroud yourself,” Zuri said, “you can do everything in Isihogo that I can.”

Tau tried to see if Zuri was teasing him. “I can enervate?”

Zuri tilted her head from side to side, weighing the question. “You can learn the technique, you can take yourself to Isihogo, you can even take energy from the underworld, but you’d die before you had the chance to use it.”

“The demons,” Tau said.

“In part. Time works differently in the underworld. A single breath on Uhmlaba is more than fifty in Isihogo. Also, souls shine brighter when they take on Isihogo’s energy. Without being able to shroud, the demons would find you and tear you apart before you could use what you had taken. Tau, if you are ever in Isihogo, never take energy into yourself. Never.”

“Show it to me.”

Zuri started. “Show you what?”

“I need to know how to resist the enervation.” Tau could tell Zuri was beginning to regret the discussion, but he pressed on. “I got lucky today. We were isolated from the bigger fight and Namisa hit her Indlovu as well as my sword brothers. I won’t be able to keep winning if an Enervator can just point her hands and drop me.”

“Resist enervation?” Zuri shook her head. “If a Gifted hits you with it, you can’t stop your soul from being shifted to the underworld. Anyway, in the skirmishes, we’re not supposed to hold you there.”

“I know, but that’s not the point,” Tau said. “Even if I’m not held long enough for the demons to attack me, I’m still dazed when I come back.”

“Your soul was taken from one place to another. It’s not the kind of thing you shake off.”

“How do you do it, then?” he asked.

“I… That’s different.”

“Maybe… or, maybe having experienced it so often, you’re able to better manage it.” She looked far from convinced by that, but Tau pressed on. “Zuri, I can’t allow myself to be made useless on the battlefield. I need more experience with enervation. I need to know how it affects me, so I can learn to recover faster.”

“I don’t think it works that way, and I’m not going to enervate you.”

“I have to try.”

“Then go to Isihogo yourself,” Zuri said, flicking a hand at him, dismissing the request.

“How?”

Zuri eyes widened.

“No, you’re right,” Tau said. “You said everyone can do it. Teach me how to go to Isihogo?”

“I wasn’t serious when I said that.”

“But you could teach it?”

Zuri licked her lips and looked around at the still empty circle. “You already know how. It’s why we pray, to anchor our souls to this realm. Some of us still drift to Isihogo when we sleep and our defenses are down.”

Tau considered this. “The ones who die bleeding in their beds. The ones who wake and have lost their minds. That’s why we pray? To prevent that?”

“It’s not the only reason. We pray to show faith. To worship Ananthi. She protects us.”

“Of course she does,” Tau said, trying not to sound brusque. “Help me, Zuri. I almost couldn’t keep fighting after the enervation.”

“If you were attacked by a demon you shouldn’t have been able to fight at all.”

“Help me.”

“You want this? To learn how to travel to the underworld?” Zuri asked. “You’ll have no power there. You’ll be hunted the instant you enter.”

“But they can’t hurt me?”

Zuri laughed without mirth. “What do you mean? You’ve already experienced it. They’ll hurt you. They’ll rip you to pieces and you’ll feel everything. Your physical body won’t be harmed, but who knows what it’ll do to your mind.”

Tau was insistent. “But they can’t kill me.”

Zuri pursed her lips. “Not unless you draw energy from Isihogo.”

“Then I just won’t do that.”

“As you wish,” Zuri said, standing.

Tau jumped to his feet, nervous, and wondering just how much of a damned fool he was being. “Now?”

“Isn’t this what you want?”

“Eh… yes, of course.”

“You’re sure?” She arched an eyebrow and Tau caught up to her game. She had thought to scare him off the path by putting his feet to it.

Tau refused to be scared away. “I am.”

Zuri’s eyebrow dropped and she looked tired, like the day had been a bit too much. “Fine. Fine. Close your eyes.”

“Here?”

“If I can teach you how to enter Isihogo, here is as good a place as any. Fifty breaths there are less than a single one here. You won’t be gone any time at all.”

“As you say.” Tau closed his eyes.

“You need to know how to return. There are two ways.”

Tau saw spots of light behind his closed eyelids.

“Our souls conceive of Isihogo in terms of our experiences in Uhmlaba. You will think of yourself as having one head, two arms, two legs, everything. You will even think and behave as if you are breathing there.”

“Yes,” Tau said.

“The first way to return is to expel all the breath in your body. Breathe it out until you are empty. Let your body, if you want to call it that, remain empty. You will feel as if you are dying, as if you must breathe. Leave your lungs empty, let this false death take you, Isihogo will fade, and you will leave the underworld.”

“That’s it?”

“We are meant for the world of the living, not the world of the demons. Exiting Isihogo should not be hard.”

“And the second way?”

“Let the demons kill you.”

“Ah,” Tau said.

“Ah,” Zuri echoed. “When the demons destroy your soul’s conception of its body, you’ll be forced from Isihogo.” Zuri took a step closer to Tau and put a cool hand on his arm. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I do. I have to get into the Queen’s Melee. I can’t risk letting an Enervator disable me. I can’t risk being taken out of the fight.”

There, he’d said it out loud and it was true. He had to get into the melee. He had to take Scale Jayyed deep enough into its rounds to face Scale Osa… to face Kellan. Men died in the melee every single cycle. Men died there.

“The melee?” Zuri asked. “It’s all on your shoulders, then, your scale’s chances? You know an Ihashe scale hasn’t qualified in over a generation?”

He nodded. “It’s different now.”

Zuri smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. “As you say,” she said, taking her hand from his arm. “Then, with eyes closed, I want you to think about a wave of calm rising up through the earth and into you.”

Tau closed his eyes and attended to her words.

“Relax your feet and let the tension flow out of them. Let the muscles go loose and limp and allow this calming wave to rise into your calves, slowly, into your thighs, slowly. Let them go loose, limp, feel that wave continue higher, as you allow this world to slip away.”

Tau was swaying.

“I want you to take deep breaths in and out, in and out.… Yes, like that.… Every breath in lifts the calming wave higher, every breath out moves our world further and further away.… Let go and it’s there… our other home—”