Wrath of the White Tigress (8 page)

With an expression of distaste, Jaska eyed the small jet stone embedded in the leather choker. "I can't."

"But you must. Without your powers, you won't be strong enough to combat Salahn."

"I will manage."

"That's a lie, and you know it."

"What if all palymfar qavra can betray me?"

"Impossible. With this one I have erased the previous owner's aura. No spells exist within it, nor does one exist on you."

"But even a lesser qavra such as that one might awaken things within me. Things that I have buried in the past. The old methods may entice me into committing the old acts again."

"If so, you will have to conquer those things. To succeed, we need all your abilities. You know I'm right."

Without looking at her, he nodded. "It must wait, though. I'm not strong enough to bond with the qavra now."

"I can help you."

Zyrella held the qavra out toward him. He stared at it. Minutes went by before Jaska reached forward. His fingertips came within inches, but then a look of horror crossed his face and he withdrew. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He licked his lips and furrowed his brow.
 

"Conquer your fear, conquer the scars Salahn left upon your psyche."

He leaned forward again and reached, but he still couldn't do it. Just as his fingers pulled away, Ohzikar returned.
 

"I spotted four palymfar at the canyon's entrance. They ventured a little way in and left."

"We should leave as soon as possible," Jaska said. "If they didn't search the canyon, it means they've figured out that we're here. And there will be more of them. Most of the palymfar groups I have sent into the field number twelve, but they will split up into three teams of four when searching. Those four are likely rejoining the others."

"Are you well enough to move on?" Zyrella asked.

"I crossed the wilderness for days in worse condition than this."

"But that almost killed you. Our position is defensible."

"It's not secure enough to survive a full attack," Jaska said. "Your templar is a good warrior." The two exchanged dark appraisals. "But even with my help he won't survive against twelve veteran palymfar."

Zyrella began to stand, but Jaska stopped her. "I should take that qavra now. It won't be linked to the others, so they won't be able to track it. I can use it to detect their positions and aid our retreat. I know spells that will loosen my limbs and boost my strength. And there is one powerful spell I can use against them if it comes to fighting."

Jaska steeled his nerves and took the qavra. Despite his fears, nothing terrible happened. He raised the leather choker to his neck. He connected the locking studs, drew it to the proper tightness, and fastened the buckles. The specially treated leather fit snug against his neck, covering the pale flesh where a qavra had sat fixed in place for the last eighteen years.
 

Jaska felt naked no longer. He felt complete and whole. Empowered and confident.

Evil and sadistic, murdering and foul.
 

Not from sorcery but from memories--nightmares that flooded into his waking mind. Things he had done with the powers such a stone granted. He panicked and shadows flooded his brain. He tore at the qavra until a section of scar tissue opened and bled. He screamed and fell into convulsions.
 

Ohzikar held him down, and Zyrella soothed him with a chant of sleep that reduced him to tossing and muttering. Fever spread through his body. His limbs flexed into exhaustion, and he descended into a tortured stupor.

~~~

Ohzikar ripped the canvas sheet from its moorings as he rushed into the cave. "All twelve palymfar are entering the canyon. We have time to slip away, up the back trail, but only if we leave now."

Zyrella's breath caught in her throat. The sun was descending, casting shadows in the canyon behind Ohzi. Darkness was falling onto their hopes. She continued to daub Jaska's tensed face with a cold, wet cloth. Half open, the assassin's eyes were glazed over.
 

Somewhat aware of the waking world around him, Jaska muttered an indecipherable reply.
 

"Ella, we have to go now."

"He can't move, Ohzi."

"Then we must leave him."

With a cold voice, more lifeless than any he'd ever heard from her, she said, "We will not abandon him."

Ohzikar knelt and rubbed his hand across her back. "We have no choice. I can't protect you here. I would carry him, but the trail is too treacherous. Ella, we have nothing if you are lost."

"No, Ohzi. We have nothing if Jaska is lost. I know you don't want to face this but you must. Jaska is more important than me. The White Tigress didn't spend her final free moments giving me instructions. She spent them saving this man. I may be more valuable to you, but Jaska is more important to our cause. If we die defending him, then we die. I cannot help that."

Ohzikar cursed and stalked to the back of the cave where he tried to marshal his thoughts and emotions. But he couldn't cool his anger, or his jealousy over how much time and attention she gave to the assassin who had killed their brothers.

Zyrella leaned close to Jaska, whispered and pleaded. "We need you. You must break free. Otherwise, all is lost." For a moment, she thought his eyes focused on her, but she couldn't be sure.
 

"Tear that damn choker off him," Ohzikar said. "If you won't leave him behind, at least give him a chance to wake."

They had discussed this a half-dozen times after she had confirmed that the stone contained no active energies and that this must be caused by a reaction within his mind.
 

She spun and nearly shouted. "We don't know that he'll wake without it! He may become further lost to us. The qavra will remain in place."

"But, we must--"

"I know that is the right thing to do. I will not be persuaded or threatened otherwise. I am the High Priestess of the White Tigress, and you will obey me in this. Now, I suggest, captain, that you see to our defense as best as you can."

"As you wish, high priestess."
 

Tears streamed from Zyrella's eyes as Ohzikar harshly packed the last of their gear. She hated fighting with him and rarely did so. She promised herself she would make up with him before they faced the enemy. She couldn't bear to think of anger hanging between them when death came.

A horde of faceless children shuffled toward Jaska. He tried to back away, but Grandmaster Salahn loomed behind him and whispered into his ear: "Kill many, Jaska, so that we may bathe in style tonight." Jaska tried to resist, but his arms moved of their own accord and drew his weapons. Then, even with his eyes closed, he conducted his grisly task.

Hours later, he was in a shallow, marble-tiled pool filled with blood. As he slid between Mardha and Salahn, gasping in orgasm, Zyrella suddenly appeared, chained to a column rising from the middle of the pool.
 

Mardha left Jaska's embrace and took a scourge from the poolside. She began to whip Zyrella, who with each strike looked increasingly like Mardha, as if mirroring her. Jaska struggled against his master's compulsion but could not move to help her. Bloodied and sagging, Zyrella begged for her life.
 

Laughing, they showed her no mercy.
 

Zyrella looked into Jaska's eyes and whispered, "In the name of the White Tigress, help me. I need you."

Pure energy surged from deep within Jaska and shredded Salahn's power over him. Jaska leapt to his feet, grabbed Mardha by the hair, and slung her into Salahn.

Arms stretched out, he shielded Zyrella from them. "I will never again serve you, and I will not let you harm her!"

~~~

Jaska screamed something indecipherable, and his convulsions ceased. His countenance became peaceful, his breathing slowed, and his limbs rested without the slightest twitch. Yet tangible waves of power emanated from him and slid across Ohzikar and Zyrella like a delicate breeze. Then Jaska's qavra blazed to life and eyes like molten gold opened.
 

Zyrella stumbled back and Ohzikar drew his tulwar.

Jaska glared at them. "Why are you still here?"

"Because," Zyrella answered, "you're our only hope against Salahn."

Jaska donned his uniform. "You should have fled."

Ignoring him, Zyrella said, "A moment ago I detected energies stirring within the qavra you're wearing."

"Yes. I bonded with it, only I did so through intention alone."

"I didn't know that was possible."

"Neither did I. I simply envisioned myself performing the rites, and the ritual worked, even though I didn't physically do anything."

Jaska walked to the mouth of the cave and peered out. "They are near and will find us soon. Ohzikar, take Zyrella and move up the escape route you have planned. Choose the best vantage and use your bow against them."
 

"I won't be able to see any of them, even if Zyrella gives me darksight. They'll be too far away."

"Trust me, you'll see them."

"You're not strong enough to fight," Zyrella said.

"We have no choice."

"What are you going to do while we escape?" Ohzikar asked.

"What I must. On my signal, circle to the front of the canyon and capture their horses. At most they'll leave one guard with them. I'll rejoin you as soon as I can."

Ohzikar led Zyrella along the ledge and up a narrow, winding path leading out of the canyon. The last stretch required climbing but handholds were plentiful.
 

~~~

With his darksight activated, Jaska watched his former brethren sneaking toward the cave. He folded his hands together as if in prayer and chanted the spell he needed, one he had never thought he'd use.
 

At first he was nervous, his voice faltering in pitch, but he quelled his fears by thinking of how his mentor had betrayed him.

~~~

Eleven palymfar crept forward, pursuing the witch the Grandmaster had ordered destroyed. Though brave and deadly, the palymfar feared her. After all, she had apparently defeated Master Bavadi.
 

Firelight poured from the cave they had scryed from the Shadowland earlier, though only from without since wards had barred them from peering inside. Why the enemy sheltered here, the palymfar didn't know. They guessed they were waiting on something or perhaps nursing a fallen comrade. Rakas, the palymfar leader, feared another possibility, that the two held Jaska within and planned to use him as a bargaining piece.

The firelight ceased and Rakas's qavra released all its active magics, including his darksight. Only the dim light of charcoal Zhura high above illuminated the canyon now. He uttered a spell to restore his qavra's functions. Nothing happened. Glancing around, he quickly realized it was the same for the others.
 

"Retreat," Rakas whispered.

Power again stirred within his qavra. He paused, hoping his abilities would return. But something unthinkable occurred. Every qavra blazed to life, emanating violet light and humming loudly.

An arrow skewered the palymfar beside Rakas. The twang of another bowstring panicked his comrades and they fled. Rakas ripped the glowing qavra from his neck and tossed it over the ledge, sacrilege though it might be.

~~~

As he sprinted along the path down into the canyon, Jaska whistled to signal Ohzikar. Then he turned and dropped over the side. He fell twenty feet, caught a ledge with his foot, propelled himself along the wall to a lower ledge, and bounded downward again. Three more times he did this, alighting for a brief moment with only a single foot. Finally, he launched himself away from the canyon wall and struck the sandy bottom shoulder-first, rolling forward onto his feet.

He ran ahead and caught up to one of the fleeing palymfar who had abandoned his qavra. The assassin heard Jaska's approach only at the last moment. As soon as he spun around, cold steel bit deep into his neck.

~~~

The lone palymfar guarding the horses saw the eerie violet lights deep within the canyon and heard the faint hum of arrows. The horses stirred and snorted. He tensed and held to the reins, patted necks and spoke soothing words. Then came the sound of men screaming. The horses nearly bolted, but he calmed them with a spell. This worked for only a few seconds, until his qavra stopped responding. His darksight dimmed. Then his qavra glowed with violet light. He drew his saber and waited as he heard men fight and die in the canyon beyond. He thought to flee but feared the repercussions.

Something whispered across the ground toward him.
 

A dark shape appeared, blood-splattered and fearsome.
 

"M-Master Bavadi?"

A throwing spike pierced deep into his eye socket, and he died before Jaska's saber sliced into his heart for good measure.

When Zyrella and Ohzikar arrived a few minutes later, Jaska was crouched beside the body, staring through the Shadowland into the canyon, making sure he hadn't missed any of the palymfar. Both cringed when they looked at him.