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Authors: David Alastair Hayden

Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction

Wrath of the White Tigress (38 page)

BOOK: Wrath of the White Tigress
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Salahn screamed as the Zhura-djinn half of his spirit dissipated. Jaska drew the white-steel blade free and staggered back as ghostly images of mountain spirits and other entities that Salahn had bound into himself appeared then vanished.
 

Jaska glanced around. All their enemies had been dealt with, though more palymfar would arrive soon. Ohzikar had crawled over to Zyrella, leaving a smeared trail of blood along the floor. He was lying beside her, with his shield propped up to guard her.
 

"Quickly," Jaska said to those still up. "We must bar the doors."

"I have taken care of that already," said Kyshaiar, "by casting a warding spell to seal their entry. It won't last though."

"How will we stand against them?" Hyrkas asked as he rushed over to Lharro.

Jaska shrugged. "Kyshaiar, is there any way that you could get the word out that Salahn is dead?"

"Yes, but I don't have the strength right now."

"Then all we can do for the moment is rest and see to our wounded."

Bakulus and Caracyn helped one another, and Hyrkas tended Lharro. Jaska cut through the chains binding Zyrella. Though lacking wounds, she looked frail, like lavender stung by frost. Ohzikar's wounds were bad, but if tended soon, Jaska thought he would mend, though it might be months before he fully recovered.
 

Zyrella awoke and frowned at Ohzikar. She took Jaska's hand and asked, "Is he…"

"He will live," Jaska said.

Ohzikar groaned. "It doesn't feel that way."

Zyrella relaxed. "Is it done?"

"Salahn and Mardha are both dead," Jaska replied. "We have won, though we must hold out against any palymfar that come against us here."

"The Tigress will return," Zyrella said, panting heavily. "She will help you against them." Jaska didn't reply, not wanting to tell her that he had almost certainly slain the White Tigress when he killed Salahn.

She coughed and shifted weakly.

"Save your strength," Ohzikar said.

"It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does."

"I am gone already, my love. I lost my life against Salahn."

"That's nonsense, Ella. You're still talking and breathing."

"But it isn't my life anymore. What you see here belongs to the White Tigress. I gave up my life to take her essence from Salahn and to weaken him so that Jaska might have a chance. She will return, but I spent my life for our cause and now I must pass on."

Ohzikar was struck silent. Zyrella put her hand to Jaska's face. "We had such little time. It's odd that I feel so strongly toward you." She kissed him, and he held her close. "It's our blood that drew us together. But I also love you for who you are."

"Is there truly nothing we can do to stop this?"

"I am here only because the Tigress shields me from death. But if I don't go soon, she will be dragged there instead, and I cannot let that happen."

"You are a true priestess," Jaska said.

"There is something more, Jaska. A gift, between us. We have…" She shook her head. "It's nothing. You will discover one day a parting gift from me. Understand then that I remained silent as a favor to someone else."

"I don't understand."

"You will one day. Trust in that." Zyrella turned to Ohzikar. "My companion in life, I have always loved you and with all my heart."

"Please don't go," he pleaded. "You can't leave me."

"Always the same, Ohzi. Arguing against what must be. But you will learn to live without me." A few tears streaked down her cheeks. "Embrace me in these final moments. Many years will pass before we see one another again."

"You will wait for me in death?"

"Of course. I won't be whole without you."

They embraced for several minutes. Then Zyrella spoke once more to Jaska. "For all your days, remember me and join with us in death."

"I don't think such a realm exists where we both can meet, tainted as I am, but if there is, I will find you."

Ohzikar kissed her one last time as her spirit fled her body. He continued to hold her until her body grew hot from gathering energies. He let her slide from his arms, and she began to glow until she was so bright that none could look at her. The heat was so intense that Jaska was forced to back away, pulling Ohzikar along with him.
 

When the brilliance faded, they turned back and saw a hazy apparition of the White Tigress, not solid but like a ghost. And of Zyrella's body, there was no sign.
 

The dress she had worn, however, remained. Ohzikar crawled over and scooped it up into his arms. Clutching it, he sobbed with what little vigor remained within him.

Jaska bowed before the White Tigress.
 

"I owe everything to you, Jaska Bavadi. I am sorry that I could not save Zyrella. You are my wrath no longer. You are free of that burden."

"I have others."

She kissed his brow. "You may see to them with my aid in the coming months. Now follow me."

"What about Ohzikar?"
 

"He will be all right once his wounds are bound, but we must look to Lharro first. His time has come."

Hyrkas was leaning over Lharro who smiled and gestured toward the twins. Bakulus was binding Caracyn's injuries. Caracyn was still dazed but fully aware of the sacrifice Lharro had made for him. He had already thanked him and apologized a dozen times, until Hyrkas had forced him away to be tended. As for Lharro, Hyrkas could do nothing.

 
"There are millions of them, Hyrkas," Lharro whispered with a chuckle. "So few of us, but I gave my life to save one of them. Ironic, eh?"

Hyrkas looked to the withered corpse of Salahn. "No, Lharro. We defeated the evil one. We saved millions of them, and our own people, too. But even if you had saved just one of them, you would be no less a hero."

"We have our pride and honor still," Lharro said. He looked to the White Tigress. "My lady … it is a pleasure … to meet you at last."

"You were a true palymfar," Jaska said, gripping his arm. "And we wouldn't have made it without you."

"The priestess?" Lharro asked, for it was like him to think of others even at a time like this.

"She died that I may exist," the White Tigress said. "Great was her sacrifice, though no less than yours. I shall honor you for all the many days given to me."

He bowed his head to both of them. Once more, he looked to Hyrkas and squeezed his hand. "Tell my wife my last thoughts were spent on her. Farewell, my brother. I will see you in the Underworld."

"At the Shrine of Heroes with sword and shield. We'll fight the dark powers of the next world, too."

Lharro lay back peacefully. Hyrkas watched him breathe sputteringly, eyes still blinking, no doubt thinking of his wife as he'd promised. Of the Arhrhakim, there was no finer specimen. With a long sigh, Lharro passed into death. Hyrkas bent his head back and howled a sob that echoed through the sanctum.

"If I could have saved him," the White Tigress said, "I would have. But his injuries were great and my strength is little."

"I understand," Hyrkas replied. "And I don't think he would've wanted to cheat death. A man cannot exit the world any better than that."

A thump sounded against the inner door. Jaska retrieved the other white-steel saber. "How long, Kyshaiar?

"It doesn't matter," the Tigress answered. "We shall go to them. Hyrkas, stand with us. Bakulus, if you would please open the door."

"Wait," Jaska said. He went to Salahn's corpse and hacked off the head.

Jaska stood at the doorway with the Tigress on one side, Hyrkas on the other. Kyshaiar flapped up to Jaska's shoulder where he clutched harder than normal. He was obviously quite weak, but as Bakulus pulled the bolt free he deactivated the spell of holding he had placed over the doorway and began to glow.

Nearly three-dozen palymfar had crowded into the hallway leading from the great sanctuary into the inner sanctum. They surged forward but stopped. Every eye fell onto Jaska and the withered head he held, and then the White Tigress who stood beside him.
 

"Your master is dead," she growled. "Leave if you value your lives."

"I shall forgive all those who repent of their evils," said Jaska, his eyes blazing. "All others shall taste the steel of the magic blades which slew Salahn."

Murmurs spread among the palymfar as they began to back away. Most wanted to flee, but a few officers near the front saw a chance to claim power for themselves. They knew that after a battle such as that, Jaska and his allies must be fatigued.
 

"They're weak!" shouted one. "If we rush them, they can't defeat all of us."

Jaska tossed Salahn's head into their midst. An instant later, one of his throwing blades knifed through the space between a half-dozen men and embedded in the ambitious officer's eye.
 

"Anyone else? I know you all, your strengths and weaknesses. I will defeat you."

Some still hesitated, so Jaska strolled forward and attacked the first man he reached. The palymfar raised his sword to block, but the white-steel cut through the blocking sword and beheaded the palymfar with one clean strike.
 

The other palymfar near Jaska began to struggle backward as Hyrkas and the White Tigress leapt forward. Kyshaiar flared up like a white-burning phoenix, and this last was too much. The palymfar fled then, spreading word throughout the city that Salahn had perished.

With the gauze-wrapped body of Lharro slung over his shoulder, Hyrkas stood before the Shrine of the White Tigress on Mount Barqeshal. He set Lharro down reverently and placed a hand on his forehead. "I am sorry, old friend, but I cannot take you back to Vaalshimar. The heat is terrible and there is no one here who can do a spell to preserve your body." A tear rolled down onto his muzzle and dripped onto the gauze. "I know how much you disliked the outer world, how much you valued home, but this is the best I can do. It is a mountain at least."

The White Tigress crouched beside him. "Friend Lharro, in honor of the sacrifice you made for us, the tomb meant for Zyrella's mother, the tomb of a high priestess, shall be yours. We will chant hymns in honor of you every time we pass it."

Hyrkas bowed to her. "I will be ever grateful, goddess."

"Nonsense," the Tigress hissed. "I shall forever be indebted to you. Tell your Farseer that not only has her debt been repaid but I owe her now."

The White Tigress padded off. Hyrkas knelt beside his friend, talking of old adventures and better days. A cool breeze blew across the mountain, rustling a few dry shrubs and several patches of limp wildflowers. The Gasrah River below flowed serenely out into the desert. "It is dry here in this land, Lharro, but you will have a cool, damp tomb deep within this mountain, and if you let your spirit flow down the river and into the gulf, it will make its way home."

Jaska stared over the cliff silently, hardly aware of those around him. He thought of the moment his qavra had been severed and his plummet down into the river. He recalled his first glimpse of Zyrella and thought about how she had nursed him back to health and sanity, how she had cooled the passions and torments that ravaged him. Standing here on the precipice, he realized that without her his life was about to change yet again.

With leaden steps, Ohzikar approached the White Tigress. In his arms he cradled Zyrella's clothes and a few personal items that he knew she valued. "What of her effects, my lady?"
 

"Zyrella Anthari was the greatest of all my priestesses. No tomb could honor her enough. Keep the qavra for yourself. Her effects, however, will go into an altar here which holds a few special relics belonging to me. Their placement is a secret ceremony that only you shall witness."

"What about Jaska?"

"It is not for him that I do this. His loss is not the same as yours. Zyrella meant something different to him than she did to either of us." The Tigress focused her gaze on Jaska for a moment and then shook her head. "We will give to Zyrella a full and proper funeral service when time permits. Her memory and sacrifice will be worshiped here for as long as I exist."

~~~

Six months later, Ohzikar and four thousand rebels seized the Grand Temple. Through the White Tigress, they gained the support of the populace. Three months before that, the remnants of Karphon's officer corps and leaders of the palymfar had started falling, killed by an assassin they all feared but could not stop.

Within a few weeks, the rebels took control of the entire city. No longer spending her days blinded by luxury and slumber, the White Tigress chose a new leader for Hareez and helped the citizens elect a legislative council.

In the following years, Ohzikar became the Grand Master of a new order of palymfar, and all the recruits studied ethics at the Grand Temple, taught by the White Tigress herself.
 

~~~

Jaska hunted down every former palymfar he could find, but this didn't satisfy his need to atone for what he had done. He still suffered nightmares about the evils he'd done as Salahn's creature and had yet to recover from losing Zyrella.
 

BOOK: Wrath of the White Tigress
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