Spin of Fate, page 24
“So let her cry and curse at me from the warmth of her bed. She’ll get over it after a few good meals.” At his surly expression, the chief gave a sharp laugh. “There are a hundred different ways I’ve failed Aina as a mother. But the one thing I have never failed at is keeping her safe.”
“And you think she’s safer with the Balancers?”
“If the Balancers fall, Aina can always ascend to Mayana. She stays in Malin for me. Because she is a disobedient brat who never listens to her mother.” She looked at Meizan and patted his cheek. “You’re not like her, Meizan. You’re a good kid who always heeds my commands.”
Meizan stiffened. “What are you getting at?”
“Kanjallen is no longer safe for you.”
“What?” Meizan cried, outraged. “It’s my clan! My home! Our clanmates are finally free—”
“After great efforts on my part to break them out of Agakor,” Kanna said. “In the weeks since, Kaldrav’s troops have pursued us across the realm. We’ve evaded capture so far due to a combination of the nagamor and our enemies being more disorganized than usual. But once the beast loses its element of surprise, we’ll be at a disadvantage, and those maggots won’t rest till every one of us is back in chains.”
“Why run when we can fight?” Meizan protested. “Every one of our members is worth at least twenty of Kaldrav’s. And even without the element of surprise, that nagamor’s got to be worth more than a quarter of his weak-ass army.”
“We are fighting when it makes strategic sense. But with Kaldrav’s numbers continuing to grow, I doubt that will be enough.”
“But we have you too, Chief! How did you get so powerful? And how are you controlling the beast? Did you bond with it—like the bestial warriors of Kal Ekana? Did you restore our alliance with the nagamor? You could overthrow Kaldrav yourself if the bleeding roach dared to show his face in a fight!”
“I do not think I will remain in Malin that long,” the chief said gravely.
Meizan’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean…”
“You asked how I got so powerful? How I can control that nagamor?” Kanna shook her head. “I did not bond with it, Meizan. I could not. I am not so blessed, to be favored by that beast.”
“Then how?”
“There are some things you’re better off not knowing. My only hope is to wipe out as much of Kaldrav’s army as I can before I fall.”
“No,” Meizan said vehemently. He would not accept it. The chief could not fall to Narakh. She was ruthless at times, but whatever she did was for their protection.
But then he remembered the feeling of her chitrons at Kaufgar. So vile and full of hate.
“I don’t know what you’re doing for your power,” Meizan said. “And with that nagamor. But whatever it is, it’s not worth it.”
“I am the chief,” she said softly. “For the future of Kanjallen, everything is worth it.”
“All the more reason I should stay. Kaldrav’s soldiers took my sword, but I want to be your second-in-command. I’ll take the trial and defeat whomever I have to.”
“There’s no need for a trial. I already think of you as my second-in-command, Meizan. Ever since that day in Martharan when I entrusted you with the future of our clan.”
“But I…” Meizan found himself at a loss for words. He should have felt proud—elated—that his chief thought of him so highly. But all he felt was a creeping sense of shame.
I failed her. She trusted me back then, and I failed her.
“I’m not…” Meizan tried again. Deserving. Worthy. “I want a chance to prove myself.”
“Then prove yourself.” Chief Kanna rose. “By fulfilling my final command.”
She reached for her hip and unbuckled her own sword—a curved blade with a gem-encrusted hilt—along with its leather scabbard.
“Return to the Balancers, Meizan. Return and stay with them. Regardless of what Toranic Law may indicate, you have a good soul. One day, you may even ascend yourself.”
“I don’t want that.” Meizan jumped to his feet. “I want to stay here and fight for Kanjallen. For you.”
“Return to the Balancers, Meizan,” Kanna repeated, her tone firm as she secured her scabbard to Meizan’s belt. It was heavier than his old one and felt wrong at his waist.
Meizan made to protest, and she added, “As your chief, I command it.”
She put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing hard. “You have served me and Kanjallen well, but it’s time you took care of yourself. And…” Her voice wavered. “My daughter. Please, Meizan. Take care of Aina.”
* * *
The chief’s final command echoed through Meizan’s mind as he journeyed back to Incaraz, along with her ominous implications that she might fall to Narakh. Kaldrav hadn’t even fallen to Narakh yet. What the flaming hell had Kanna done?
Meizan stepped through the chitronic shield three days later, surprised when it let him in without trouble. He scaled the crater and peered over its inner edge, relieved to see the candles were lit in Aina’s room. Through the window, he could see her silhouette curled in bed.
Take care of Aina, the chief had said.
Meizan wasn’t sure what that entailed, but Aina being safe in Incaraz seemed good enough for now. Scanning the others’ windows, he noticed Aranel’s was dark.
It’s probably his turn for lookout.
He searched the thicket and found Aranel leaning against a tree with his nose buried in a book. Meizan wasn’t sure how he could read in this gloom. Or how this constituted as lookout in any way.
Unable to resist, Meizan picked up a fallen tree branch and lunged at the upper. With reflexes quick as lightning, Aranel dropped his book and whirled around, palms glowing with green energy. Hazel eyes widened, and Meizan took advantage of his momentary confusion to pin Aranel against the tree, bringing the branch to his neck.
“Still too slow,” Meizan said with a smirk.
“Meizan…” Aranel breathed. “What are you doing here?”
Meizan raised an eyebrow. “Thought you’d be more excited, given how hard you tried to convince me to stay.”
Aranel shoved him away, flushing. “Th-that was just—I was just concerned about your soul, is all.”
“That’s what everything’s about with you, isn’t it?”
“But what of Kanjallen?” Aranel asked, fighting down a smile. “Why are you here?”
Meizan considered that carefully, before replying, “Loyalty.”
“Loyalty?” Aranel’s face lit up.
“Loyalty,” Meizan repeated, flicking his keiza. “Why are you smiling like an idiot?”
“It’s nothing,” Aranel said, but the grin he gave Meizan was the happiest he’d ever seen on anyone. “I’m just—I really—It’s nothing.”
Liar.
It definitely wasn’t nothing. Aranel wasn’t loyal to the Balancers himself, so why did it matter to him that Meizan had returned? But Meizan was in no mood to ask or analyze that eccentric Mayani brain. He tossed the branch aside and began climbing the tree Aranel had been leaning against.
“What are you doing?” Aranel asked, still grinning.
“Lookout,” Meizan said. He swung his legs over the bough, then settled against the trunk. “Since you’re bleeding useless at it. I got through, and you didn’t even realize.”
“That’s because the chitronic shield is supposed to let you pass.” Aranel sat on the grass below Meizan and picked up his book. “You belong here.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Second Principle
You are no daughter of mine.
The words replayed through Aina’s mind in cold, punctuated syllables that raked at her like claws. She burrowed into the bedcovers and stared out her window. A day had passed since their return to Incaraz. Aina hadn’t left her bed since.
You are no daughter of mine.
A shadow appeared over the rim of the crater. Aina vaguely registered it to be Meizan. So he was back. She couldn’t bring herself to care.
You are no daughter of mine.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Aina curled into a ball. She tried to drown out her mother’s icy voice.
You are no daughter of mine.
“Liar!” Aina shrieked, tearing at her hair. “She didn’t mean—She wouldn’t—”
Aina dug her fingers into her scalp and screamed in frustration. Maybe if she dug deep enough, she could uproot the memories and toss them away, pretend none if it ever happened, pretend she hadn’t just been rejected by a mother she had spent over a year trying to find.
“Aina.” The mattress dipped and soft fingers gripped her wrists. Sorrow lined Zenyra’s lovely face. “Aina, I am so sorry, child. I am so incredibly sorry.”
Zenyra blurred before her, and then Aina was sobbing loudly. Tears dripped down her cheeks and soaked Zenyra’s tunic. The older woman wrapped an arm around Aina and held her as she cried.
“It hurts, does it not?” Zenyra whispered against Aina’s hair. “I know, child. I know the pain. The pain of separation. Of being torn from the one you love most.”
“I don’t love her!” Aina pulled away with a snarl. “I never loved her! But she was the only family I had. Even if she treated me like a nuisance, I thought somewhere in her stinking heart she might actually—” She hiccuped, and Zenyra patted her on the back. “I made a mess of things, didn’t I? I broke the rules and endangered everyone. I even forced you to channel in Malin. I’m the one who should be sorry.”
“You need not apologize,” Zenyra said. Her kind eyes held no judgment. “You did a foolish and reckless thing, running away from the village. But we are all permitted some amount of folly and recklessness in our lifetimes. It is only natural.” She gave Aina a small smile. “There was no lasting harm done. My soul remains light, and even Meizan has returned to us. The universe was on our side, I think.”
“More like you were on our side.” Aina sniffled, eyes flickering to Zenyra’s keiza. It had dimmed, but not considerably so. “No one’s been able to fight her like that before. She always protected me from enemies and was the strongest person I knew. She did everything in her power to keep us away from the war. And now…she’s leader of a rebel clan and rides a nagamor.”
Aina gave a harsh laugh. “A part of me suspected she enjoyed violence, but I made excuses for her in my mind. I was stupid to think she needed saving from it all. Stupid to think she wanted to be saved, stupid to walk into Malin for her.”
“For what it is worth, I am glad you entered this realm,” Zenyra said. “You may have lost your purpose, Aina, but you can always find a new one. The Balancers’ purpose remains.”
Aina looked at her in confusion. “You’re letting me stay? You’re not throwing me out?”
“Why would I do something like that?”
“I broke the rules! I snuck out and put Aranel and Meizan in danger.”
“I suspect Meizan would have left regardless of what you did,” Zenyra said. “But he is back now. And Aranel needed to see what the world is truly like. He does not realize it, but this may be the best thing for him, in the long run.”
“So you’re not going to punish me?” Aina asked. A glimmer of hope broke through the dread. “You’ll let me continue training as a Balancer?”
“You are clearly distraught at your own folly, which you summarized nicely yourself.” Zenyra’s eyes twinkled. “I trust you will obey my instructions and never run away like this again.”
“Never,” Aina said fervently. “I swear it. From now on, I’ll listen to every word you say.”
“Good. While I would do it again in a heartbeat, I would prefer you not put me in a situation where I must risk my soul to protect you, Aina.”
“There was only ever one person”—Aina’s lower lip trembled—“who risked their soul to protect me. Though when I think about it, my mother—no, Kanna—wasn’t risking anything at all when she channeled. Her soul was dark to begin with.”
She looked at Zenyra, a burning question consuming her thoughts. “Why would you go so far for me? Is it because it’s part of your mission to help those in need?”
“It is because you are important to me, Aina! Surely you realize that.”
You are important to me.
The words wrapped around Aina like a quilt. Warm and soft, they soothed the wounds Kanna had opened. She gazed at Zenyra, affection stirring in her chest.
Bronze skin unlined, the Paramosi woman appeared far younger than Aina suspected she was. Like a woman in her third or fourth decade—around the same age Kanna had been when she’d given birth.
Aina didn’t know who her father was. According to Kanna, he had been a waste of a human. Sometimes Aina liked to think it was his fault Kanna cursed at her so much. Because Aina reminded her of him. Not because she found her own daughter a burden.
Yet, for whatever reason, maybe to lighten her own soul, Kanna had never abandoned her. She’d dragged Aina with her, and Aina had followed. The woman had been the least diabolical thing in a land teeming with evil and had kept Aina safe from the rest.
In a matter of a few hours, Zenyra had protected Aina in the same way Kanna always had, risking her soul in ways Kanna never could have.
“I wish I’d been born to you instead,” Aina blurted.
Zenyra gave a musical laugh, eyes crinkling. “Just as well. I like to think of Incaraz as my home and the Balancers as my…not quite my children. But an integral part of my life. Without the Balancers, there would be little purpose to my existence, and you, in particular, are very special to me.” She smiled, and Aina wondered if Zenyra might hug her again.
Instead, she moved Aina’s bangs to examine her keiza.
“Amazing,” Zenyra murmured. “Even after a prolonged projection exposed to the chitrons of Malin, your soul has not changed its spin as quickly as I would have expected.”
“That’s great,” Aina said, unable to find it in herself to match Zenyra’s enthusiasm. “You know, we wouldn’t have found ourselves in that situation if I could channel properly. Have you made any progress as to my kei—”
She stopped herself, mortified. Zenyra had risked her soul for her, and here Aina was demanding that the Paramosi woman fix her keiza.
“None yet,” Zenyra said, still deep in thought. “Although I believe I have figured out the connection between the white flash and how it relates to ascension. Correct me if I am wrong, Aina, but you said you remained in a blank space for a few good seconds?”
“I think so.”
“Did you see a torana anywhere in the space?”
“A torana?” Aina cried. “No! But I wasn’t especially looking. Why would there be a torana?”
“How familiar are you with the Second Principle of Chitronic Equilibrium?”
“Not very,” Aina said, bemused. “Aranel might have mentioned it a couple times, but nobody listens when he starts showing off.”
“Listen carefully to me, then,” Zenyra said. “The Second Principle of Chitronic Equilibrium states that souls can only exist in realms with a chitronic rotational speed equal to or less than their own.”
She looked at Aina expectantly. Aina stared back, fidgeting with her bedsheets.
“Take the example of a Mayani soul,” Zenyra said, “with an average positive chitronic spin of say, one hundred forward rotations per second. Now, this soul can exist in any of the lower realms, since the spins of these realms are backward and thus negative. But it cannot exist in Paramos, for which the required minimum chitronic spin is somewhere around one million forward rotations per second.
“Similarly, a Malini soul with a backward spin cannot ascend to Mayana, where the required minimum spin is a positive one rotation per second. But it can descend freely to Narakh, which has no requirements. Am I making sense?”
Aina nodded slowly. “Kind of?”
“The Aria of Ascension puts it nicely,” Zenyra continued. “‘In realms which spin lower, a soul may exist; but realms which spin higher shall that soul resist.’”
“Which means that a soul can only enter a realm if its spin passes a certain lower limit,” Aina said, catching on. “Wait, isn’t that essentially Toranic Law?”
“In a manner of speaking.” Zenyra beamed at her. “The Second Principle is what governs the workings of the torana, enforcing upon the realms the ultimate and unbreakable order of the universe. So while some may consider it all religious, the reality is nothing more than chitronic science.”
“Right,” Aina muttered. Even if the bleeding law was science, it didn’t make her resent it any less. “So it really is absolute. Guess there’s no chance of Kaldrav’s army breaking it down, then.”
“Breaking it down?” Zenyra’s brow creased. “Wherever did you hear that?”
“In Kaufgar. A couple of soldiers were talking about it. They said the king has a plan to break Toranic Law so they can invade the upper realms. I couldn’t tell whether they were being serious. In any case, they didn’t seem to think he’d succeed.”
“Would it please you if he did?”
“You mean he can?” Aina exclaimed. “Is that Kaldrav’s grand plan, to attack the torana? Is there some scientific way his soldiers can break in and enter?”
“The sun will sooner diminish before Toranic Law falls to the likes of mere soldiers,” Zenyra said disdainfully. “No Malini army, however large, could pose a threat.”
“I see.” Aina tried to ignore the shred of disappointment she felt at Zenyra’s statement.
A part of her had hoped that without Toranic Law, Kanna might ascend. That in Mayana she might treat Aina with kindness. But it seemed there was no chance for her after all.
“Coming back to the Second Principle,” Zenyra reminded her. “Descension from Mayana to Malin occurs when a soul changes spin—from positive to negative, forward to backward, whichever term you prefer. When this happens, that soul is dragged through a nearby torana by force. Or, if there is no torana in the vicinity, a temporary one materializes.
