The Rage of Dragons (The Burning Books #1) (29 page)

It had been a moon cycle since Scale Jayyed’s win over Scale Osinachi, and, bolstered by their brethren’s accomplishment, Scale Chisomo left the Southern Isikolo to compete for one of the final spots in the Queen’s Melee. The isikolo saw them off and several scales accompanied them to the Crags, thinking to see history made again.

Scale Jayyed, their position secured, remained behind to train. Jayyed and Anan agreed the men could not afford to attend. Tau was glad. Time was too short to let any go to waste, even if the past moon cycle had taken a toll.

Every night Isihogo and its demons tempted Tau, offering him his greatest wish in exchange for agony. Every night he accepted their offer and they brutalized him. The horrors of countless deaths lingered and, during the day, he fought to hold on to his sanity. But when the sun fell beneath the earth, Tau embraced the madness. He needed it to fight the monsters.

The Queen’s Melee was almost upon them and Tau Solarin, a Common of the Omehi, man of average height, strength, and aptitude, and born without any particular gift for combat, had suffered the underworld and its demons in preparation. The path had its costs, but he had traveled it, coming out the other side with an intuition for fighting that was more like instinct. Tau had gone to the demons as a man, but under their ministrations he’d been transfigured.

On difficult nights, when the underworld came close to breaking him, he tried to remember that. And on that night, a moon cycle from the melee, he had to tell it to himself over and over again.

The evening had been grueling. The demons were hunting in packs and his deaths had been harrowing. Tau was shaken up, but the day’s torture was done and he was near the barracks, ready to fall into his cot, hoping for a dreamless sleep. It was his weariness that allowed the thing in the isikolo’s main courtyard to get as close as it did.

Tau saw it late but with enough time to snap his hands around the hilts of his swords, ready to draw. It spoke with a human voice.

“Tau? I’ve been looking for you,” said Aqondise Fanaka. “You’ve been summoned to the umqondisi quarter.”

The words made no sense, and before speaking, Tau shut his eyes, hiding the demonic face he saw in place of Fanaka’s plain features. “Summoned?”

“You’re needed in the dignitary rooms.”

Tau didn’t know they had dignitary rooms, and though he knew where the umqondisi quarter was, he had never been there. It was where the isikolo’s masters had their beds, baths, and meal halls.

Tau forced himself to look at Fanaka’s glowing yellow eyes, snout, and dagger-long teeth. “I don’t know the way,” Tau told him, working hard to keep the distaste from his voice.

“Go into the quarter. The dignitary rooms are the third building on the right.”

“Thank you, Aqondise.”

“Tau?” the man said, stepping closer, and causing Tau to draw a fingerspan of bronze. Fanaka, eyes wide, retreated, raising empty hands. “Are you well?”

Since Scale Jayyed’s last skirmish Tau’s reputation had taken on a life of its own. Yaw’s stories played some part in that, and it seemed even the aqondise were unsettled around Tau. He let his sword fall back into its scabbard. “Apologies, Aqondise. Apologies. It has been a… a trying night.”

“Of course,” Fanaka said. “You train hard. I understand.”

Tau inclined his head. “It’s late. Am I expected tonight?”

“You are,” Fanaka said, eyes flickering to Tau’s scabbarded sword.

“Thank you, Aqondise, for the message and advice.” Tau pressed his palms together and touched his fingers to his forehead, saluting. It wasn’t necessary, but he hoped the extra respect might repair any damage his odd behavior had caused. Fanaka did a slow blink, recognizing the salute, and he left. It was getting harder, Tau thought, to hold himself… together.

The umqondisi quarter was hidden from plain view behind walls and a gate. The gate was open and there were no guards. They weren’t needed. Initiates would not go in uninvited.

The inside of the quarter was well kept, if cramped. The buildings were scrunched together to provide enough living spaces for all the umqondisi and aqondise. Tau counted the buildings as he walked past them. The third on the right was less cramped than the others and it had a bronze door that an artisan had worked over with a map of the peninsula. It showed the peninsula, widest at the door’s base and coming to a point near its top.

The metalwork illustrated how the Northern and Southern Mountains separated the land from the Roar. The door also had raised areas, representing the Central Mountains and the Fist. Its knocker was where Palm City would have been.

The whole thing was meant to be impressive, but it reminded Tau of his conversation with Jayyed, who believed the numbers of hedeni to be far greater than estimated. It reminded Tau that, after almost two hundred cycles, the Omehi still had no idea what lay beyond their peninsula. The door depicted their home. It also outlined the borders of their prison.

Tau knocked. He heard footsteps. Light ones. The door’s bolts were pulled and it opened without a sound. It must be well oiled, was Tau’s last thought before seeing Zuri.

Zuri looked more beautiful than ever and Tau felt his heart soar. “Why are you here?”

She tensed and her hand whipped out, coming fast for his face or neck. There could be a weapon, he thought, slipping inside the blow, rejecting his swords. There was too little space to wield them. He pulled free the dagger he kept on his belt. Zuri’s attack, her open-handed slap, connected with empty air. Tau realized she had no weapon but was already shoving her into the room against the closest wall, his dagger pressed against the soft skin of her neck.

She looked like she might scream. Tau whisked the dagger away, back into his belt.

“Zuri,” he said, horrified, retreating. “I’m sorry! I thought…” She was trembling, her lips pursed, her eyes locked on his face. “Zuri?”

Her hands flew up. Tau could have closed the distance, could have knocked her unconscious. He stood there, letting her blast him with enervating energy that sent his soul spinning into Isihogo. On arrival, his swords were out, dual blades reflecting his spirit’s golden glow.

He could see Zuri, two strides off, shrouded in darkness. He heard a demon roar to his left, adjusted his stance, fight ready; then Zuri vanished, and he went with her, returned to Uhmlaba.

“Zuri, please,” he said, adjusting to the realm switch. She stared at him like he’d returned from the dead. Her reaction confused him. Then he understood. She expected him to be incapacitated by being pushed and pulled into and out of Isihogo.

Her voice was pinched. “Tau, what have you done?”

“What I had to,” he said.

She put a hand over her mouth. “What have you done?”

He’d already answered that. “Why did you attack me?”

“Attack you? Attack you? You put a knife to my neck! Have you gone mad?”

Tau could not understand any part of this. She had attempted the first strike and he’d defended himself. Then she’d used her gift against him. She was the aggressor. He was about to tell her that, but some small part of him warned against it. He held his tongue.

Zuri did not. “You abandoned me! Abandoned me after attacking a Greater Noble in the streets of Citadel City. You do something like that and then slither away like… like an inyoka in the grass!” She looked him up and down, as if she saw the inyoka there, wrapped around him. “I thought Okar would kill you. I thought the Indlovu would hang you. You avoid both those fates and I’m foolish enough to feel relief.” She poked him in the chest. “I prayed to the Goddess that night, thankful for the mercy She showed to the man that I… that…” She clenched her fists, hit his chest, and made a strange sound in her throat. She glared at him. “Then you avoid me!”

“That’s not how—”

“I needed you. I looked for you after the next skirmish, waited in that circle all night, like a fool. Then, not learning my lesson, I was back the next skirmish. I heard you won? They talk about it as if you did. They talk about Tau, who could be Tsiory reborn. Uduak, the Indlovu breaker. Hadith, the military mind to rival a guardian councillor. They talk like you won. I’m not sure, though. I did not see you, to hear it from your lips.”

“I have reasons,” he said. “The first skirmish, after the duel, I was not allowed—”

“I needed you.” Zuri pushed off the wall, bumped him on purpose as she walked past and sat in a chair. It was a nicer chair than Tau had seen anywhere else in the entire isikolo.

She switched topics. “The things I’m learning, the things they have me doing… I worry I can no longer tell right from wrong.” She switched again. “I thought I meant something to you. I thought we’d help each other find a path through this. I held on to that thought, but it turns out I don’t matter and that makes everything so much worse.”

Tau believed it was meant to be his turn to speak. He was unsure what to say. He was sorry he’d hurt her. That had been furthest from his mind. He could say that, but he didn’t think it’d come out right, telling her she’d been far from his mind.

Zuri raised her head, speaking as Tau was opening his mouth. He’d missed his chance. “I can’t believe I keep thinking about you,” she told him. “I want you to know that I’m permitted to journey home twice in my three cycles of Gifted training and that I used one of those trips so I could pass this Goddess-forsaken isikolo. So I could come here, see you, and tell you that I hate you.”

That hurt, and Tau dropped to his knees in front of her. “Zuri—”

“I hate you for making me feel this way,” she said, eyes brimming with tears.

Tau had no clue how to deal with this. He wanted to reach out for her but didn’t want to upset her further. He moved closer, keeping his hands to himself. “Zuri…,” he said again, deeming her name safe enough.

“Damn you, Tau. I’m crying. You could at least hold me, you coldhearted bastard.”

Even more confused, Tau leaned in and held her, wrapping his arms around her.

She nuzzled into him. “By the Goddess, I hate you,” she said, putting her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“You have it wrong—”

“What?” Her voice, though muffled, was sharp.

“Eh… you do matter. Very much. More than…” He’d been about to say “almost anything,” changed his mind, and finished with, “You matter more than anything.”

She nuzzled deeper into his tunic. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

“Yes? Eh… no,” Tau stammered. “I didn’t want things to be this way.” He wasn’t prepared for this. “I wanted a different life… for us.”

Zuri looked at him then. “Us?”

“I could have worked in the Onai’s keep. Our lives could have been different.” Pain flooded him. “You deserve so much more than I am.”

“No. You don’t get to decide that for me. You can’t tell me who is worth my… I feel the way I feel, and that’s that.”

“It’s too late, isn’t it?” he said. “We’re both wed to war.”

“You’re a poet now? Why would anyone wed a war?”

“Because that’s all life is.… Because the most any of us can do is fight to make things a little better, a little more just or safe.”

Zuri returned her head to his shoulder. “Just? Safe? I’m not sure that’s why we fight, and if it were, I’m not sure we deserve it.”

“Why not?” Tau asked, talking more about the two of them.

“Because of the things we do.”

It felt like she knew and was talking about what he’d been doing in Isihogo. “We are what we must be,” he said, “if we want to make this world even a little better.”

“Can a better world be found at the end of a dark path?”

Tau thought his time in Isihogo threatened his sanity, but he’d been with Zuri less than a quarter span and had already lost his moorings.

“I continue to the south in the morning,” she said, the sudden switch in topics making his head spin. “My escort is already billeted in the building next to this one.”

“Oh,” said Tau, sorry to hear her visit would only last the night, but grateful the discussion had settled on firmer ground.

“Why did you grow the scruff?”

“What?”

“The beard. The patches of one anyway.”

“Eh… I’ve been training. There’s not been time.”

“I see. Too busy to shave… or bathe.”

That was unfair. Tau had washed the day before… perhaps two days before.

She laughed. It sounded like music. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“These rooms have a bath. You need one and you need a shave. I’ll help.”

And, like that, the firm ground was gone, swallowed by a sinkhole. “A bath? Shave? I don’t need—”

“Tau, far be it from me to tell others what they do or do not need, but in this case I’ll make an exception. Come.”

“To the bath?” Tau’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “To the bath?”

She took his hand and led him to the next room.

He followed Zuri. It was like he was floating, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she was using some strange gift to make him feel this way.

The next room was opulent. It had plush furniture, a raised bed larger than anything Tau had seen before, and the floor was carpeted. A show of this much wealth would have been gross in Umbusi Onai’s bedroom, and Tau was reminded of Zuri’s new standing.

Zuri seemed to be enjoying his reaction to the space. “An advantage to being Gifted,” she said, gracing him with her smile, the one that could turn night to day.

She led him to the next room. It held a personal bath and Tau found the very thought alien. Who on Uhmlaba needed such a thing?

“A personal bath…,” Tau mumbled, staring at the bronze tub that had been built into the ground.

“We have them in the Gifted Citadel and so do most Royal Nobles in Palm.”

“There’s more than one of these?”

“See here,” Zuri said, turning a knob near the head, or foot, of the tub; he wasn’t sure which was which. The knob turned and water flowed from the attached spout. “It’s drawn from the isikolo’s well.”

Tau walked over in wonder. He put his hand beneath the water and felt it pass over his fingers. It was cool.

“Get in.”

“I’m dressed.”

Zuri pursed her lips. “Yes, that is a problem.”

Tau’s eyebrows shot up. “Lady Gifted!”

“Exactly, Lady Gifted! That’s an order, Initiate. We will not permit the unwashed in our presence. And you do happen to be both particularly unwashed and particularly in our presence.” Zuri waved her arms at his clothes and Tau looked down to make sure she hadn’t gifted them away somehow.

“Off,” she said, stepping closer to help with the process.

Seeing she wouldn’t be deterred, Tau stripped as fast as possible and stepped into tub’s cool waters, sitting down to hide as much as he could. He caught Zuri looking him over.

“That’s good,” she said. “I’ll get soap.”

“Soap?”

Zuri took a rust-colored brick from a shelf near the bath. She knelt beside the tub and dipped it in the water near Tau’s thigh, lingering there, her fingers brushing the flesh of his leg. Tau’s face burned as he felt his body reacting. Zuri must have seen it as well but didn’t comment and began rubbing the damp brick over his body. It wasn’t a brick, though, and, as she stroked it over his skin, it created a lather that smelled of sun-dried grass.

The soap wasn’t as large as Zuri’s hands, so where she cleaned, she touched, her fingers caressing his body. Tau shifted his hands, placing them over his lower stomach and upper thighs, trying to hide his body’s betrayal.

Zuri moved the soap in slow circles over his chest. “So many bruises. So many cuts.” She placed the soap in a bowl beside the bath and walked to another shelf. She came back with a tiny bronze dagger. “Face first,” she told him, going for his neck.

Tau caught her by the wrist, holding her fast.

“Tau…”

He tried to make his fingers relax, but they wouldn’t. He was lost in memories of the demon, the one with hand’s-length claws that had slit his throat. It morphed into the one with the barbed tail that had ripped his chest open with its teeth. Then that one shifted, becoming the four-armed nightmare that had strangled him, snorting foul breath in his face as he died.

“Tau?”

Hands shaking and mind still in the fog of memory, he managed, somehow, to let go. Zuri moved with deliberateness, letting him see every movement as she brought the dagger to his face. He jerked at the blade’s first touch.

“Care! I don’t want to cut you.”

He closed his eyes, breathing too fast and flinching when the blade kissed his flesh again. Zuri was gentle and fast. She used water to wet his skin and scraped away the scruff he’d grown. To keep her balance as she leaned out and over the tub’s edge, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

His eyes were still closed—they had to be for him to ignore a knife so close to his face—but her touch had him reacting again. She finished his face and neck, worked on shaving the stubble from his head, and her hand moved to his chest. As she shaved him, her fingers drew lazy circles and his body’s need shifted from arousal to desire to insistence. He groaned in discomfort, shifting in the tub, hoping to find a position that would offer relief, and didn’t even realize when Zuri was done.

She moved to the side of the tub and reached for him, the fingers of her right hand touching, then holding his manhood. Her caress made him jump, sloshing water out of the tub as his eyes flew open.

“Tau…,” Zuri said, her face determined, the same look she’d worn the first time they’d kissed. Her eyes were large but hooded, lips apart and full. Tau thought to say something, but her hand was gliding up and down, reducing his world to her fingers.

Zuri kicked off her slippers and eased into the waters, her black Gifted robes still on. She came near, sitting over his legs, her clothes floating around them. He could feel the bare skin of her thighs on his, and her left hand was around his neck, her right still stroking. She leaned toward him, closing her eyes, and she kissed him.

Her lips, her body, they brushed against him. And, where once the fingers of her hand, rising and falling, had been enough, they became too little. Tau’s own hands drifted to Zuri’s hips, and she rose onto her knees, using the hold she had to guide him to her.

“We can’t,” Tau said, knowing she would have to be the one to stop, because he couldn’t. “It’s forbidden.”

She kissed his forehead, his cheek, his lips, and, fumbling at first, she drew him inside her.

“Goddess… by the Goddess…,” Tau said, feeling her sheathe him.

“Is this so wrong?” Her voice was breathy. “Why would this… Ah!” She closed her eyes, let her head fall back. “Why would this be…”

They found a rhythm and all the demons in Isihogo could have assaulted the bathing room and Tau would not have stopped. They moved together, kissing, caressed by the cool waters, suspended in ecstasy. Then Tau found there was more.

It was as if he was caught in an avalanche, picking up speed and force. Zuri kept pace. No, she was the one making the pace.

“Yes,” she whispered, her lips near his ear. “Yes, Tau. Yes!”

Her voice, the need in it, did something to him. The avalanche became a flood and, eyes squeezed shut, he felt pressure, pleasure, and pain. His ardor coalesced, crowned. It drew him into her, overcoming him until, like a drowning man piercing the surface to take a breath, the tension burst, granting release.

“Goddess wept,” Tau groaned as he looked into Zuri’s fire-bright eyes. He was drained of… everything, but felt whole. “Zuri…” Her name, it meant something new, something he wanted to understand. He lifted a hand from the waters and touched her face, wishing everything and everyone gone, wishing life could be the two of them and nothing more.

“Tau,” Zuri said. “Tau, you can’t stop.” Zuri was still moving.

“Neh?”

“Tau, I need—” She grabbed him by the chin, making him look at her. “Don’t stop!”

His need was vanishing with astonishing speed.

“Tau? Tau!” Zuri said.

He moved his hand back into the waters, took hold of her hips, and moved, syncing up with her again.

“Yes!” she said. “Like that! Like that! Like… Oh! Oh, Tau!”

Her nails dug into his neck; she arched her back and pressed her knees into his sides. He felt her body around him, almost forcing him from her, and she threw her head back, crying out so loudly he had to stop himself from putting a silencing finger to her lips. Then, with one last spasm, she collapsed on him, shaking. Tau was about to check that she was well, when she kissed his chest.

“Can you go again?” she asked, lips tickling his collarbone.

“I… Give me a few breaths?”

“Yes, a few breaths. This time in the bed.”

“The bed?”

“Yes, I want to try there.”

Tau nodded and Zuri shifted, unsheathing him. She stood in the tub and wriggled out of her robes, letting them fall into the bath. Her dark skin was smooth, her breasts round, firm, and as perfect as the rest of her. Ananthi couldn’t be more beautiful.

“I’m ready… for the bed,” Tau said.

Zuri got out of the tub and walked to the bedroom. “Come, then,” she said, and he did.