The Horned Guardian, page 10
The tree roots grew from Jinua to Aketa, winding around them both. Jinua took the energy the forest poured into her and pushed it into Aketa, adding some of Jadiim’s fire.
The fractures of Aketa’s mind once again began to fill, blend, and mend themselves, this time much more quickly than when Jinua had been on her own.
The leaves of the nearest tree browned and blackened.
Aketa tensed and tried to let go. The roots held them both firm.
Stop it! You’re killing them!
Jinua didn’t know if Aketa spoke it out loud or if it was in her head, but she responded either way, “I know. The forest chose this.”
Let her heal you, horned child, the forest said, a murmur all around them like wind through the leaves.
Aketa’s claws dug into Jinua’s palm. Her mind was halfway together, the fog starting to clear, genuine confusion taking place.
What happened? Why am I…
“You’re a demigod of Eskir. Your mother refused to tell you,” Jinua said. “Something about sin?”
That…makes sense. Did she STAB HYLAS?
“Yes. I’m healing him after I heal you.”
You fucking better.
Jinua grinned.
A few more pieces slid into place. Jinua caught images—memories—glimpses of life before the forest, as they were absorbed back into Aketa’s mind. Helping a younger Hylas steal jam from the stop shelf. Shying away from villagers who thought her too odd, too wild. Cutting Hylas’s hair short and masculine. Snapshots slipping through her mind.
The power that had agitated Jinua seconds ago was gone, quickly absorbed into Aketa like a flowing river. It was only the tree roots keeping Jinua upright. She wished she could reach for her last imtiat potion, but she’d never be able to get it through the roots. She distantly hoped the forest didn’t accidentally kill her.
More tree leaves turned black.
Aketa growled. I swear if you destroy my forest…
“Your forest?” Jinua laughed. “That’s rich.”
Yes, mine! Aketa snarled. Then, definitely out loud, “I am Eskir’s daughter. And you’re in my realm.”
Her mind snapped into place.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
JINUA RETURNED TO consciousness with the taste of mud and coffee sliding down her throat.
She coughed, spitting some of it back up. A hand pushed her to the ground. “Drink.”
Grimacing, Jinua swallowed the rest of her imtiat potion. She wiped her mouth and waited for it to take effect.
Hylas hovered over one side of her, his brow wrinkled with worry. On the other side was Aketa.
Her horns were still there, but her eyes had gone from cat-like to human, with a round pupil and iris surrounded by white. With nothing but moonlight, Jinua couldn’t tell if Aketa’s eyes were actually gold or if that was a trick of the light.
“How are you feeling?” Jinua croaked.
Aketa made a face. “Head hurts. But. Not foggy.”
Her voice was rough and weathered from disuse. Hylas and Jinua both grinned. She glanced at the boy. “You?”
“Eh. I’m all right,” he said.
Aketa gave a cat-like hiss. “Bleeding.”
“I saw that.” Jinua hauled herself to a sitting position, feeling surprisingly solid. Hylas let her poke and prod his bandages before healing the knife wound underneath. Then she checked on Aketa’s mind.
The fractures were still visible, and without being actively bolstered by a rush of divine power her mind wasn’t as stable as Jinua would have liked. She could always continue the healing process once she’d recovered her strength but, for now—to Jinua’s untrained eye—everything seemed to be where it should be.
She frowned. Glad though she was that Aketa was sane enough to understand everything around her and communicate effectively, she wasn’t completely healed. It felt like one good push would shatter her again.
Aketa poked her in the chest. She had human nails again, not claws. “You. Hurt my forest.”
The closest trees to them were shriveled up, at least six of them blackened and dead. Jinua winced at the sight. “I didn’t know that would happen when I asked for the forest’s help. But it must have, and agreed to it anyway.”
Aketa grunted.
Hylas, who’d been vibrating since Jinua healed him, launched himself at his sister and hugged her. “I’m so happy you’re back.”
Aketa gently put her arms around him. “Sorry I left. The beast. It could have hurt you.”
“You didn’t, though.”
Ontiku stood on the other side of the clearing, still using his knives to keep Nysia and Kirphis contained. Aketa shifted so she was between them and Hylas, in a posture of protection.
“Ah…” Hylas chuckled. “Don’t worry, they all know I’m a necromancer. And Ontiku’s one, too! He’s promised to take me somewhere I can learn magic. And when Iphis ordered Jinua to kill me, she refused.”
“Mother hurt you,” Aketa growled, glaring at her mother.
“She’s been disarmed,” Ontiku said, holding up the crude bronze knife Nysia had used, still red with Hylas’s blood.
Jinua pushed herself to her feet. “I did promise the forest that if Nysia tried to hurt Aketa again, I’d execute her.”
“But she didn’t,” Kirphis sputtered. “She didn’t even get the chance to try again.”
“…true.”
“She leaves,” Aketa growled.
Kirphis looked torn between his wife and his children. “She’s your mother.”
“Now.”
Nysia was already walking away, not even sparing them a second glance. She said over her shoulder: “You’re not welcome back at the house.”
“Nysia…” Kirphis pleaded, scurrying to catch up to her.
“No. I’ve suffered enough wrath from the gods and the town. If they won’t die, they’ll leave.” She stormed through the woods, out of sight.
Kirphis sighed, looking back at the siblings. He set his jaw and turned to Ontiku. “This necromancy school. Can you swear they’ll look after Hylas?”
“If he can get there, no harm will come to him,” Ontiku promised.
Kirphis nodded. “Hylas, you should go with him.”
The boy swallowed, tears in his eyes. “All right. Thank you, Father.”
Kirphis followed his wife.
Jinua snapped her fingers so the rest of them would have an actual light. No flames, though. She was too tired and they didn’t need it. Instead a bit of pink sunlight shone from the tip of her finger. Ontiku returned his knives to their sheaths and joined them.
“Aketa, nice to formally make your acquaintance,” he said. “I’m Ontiku.”
She gave a tart nod, relaxing as he came over.
“So…to the school?” Hylas asked hopefully.
“We can’t,” Jinua said. “We still don’t know who R contacted in Paramis. We have to find who got that letter and then go to Varse.”
“Not town,” Aketa insisted. “It reeks.”
“You don’t have to come with us—”
“It reeks,” she repeated. “The forest…it had to leave.”
Jinua paused, sharing a look with Ontiku. “What do you mean?”
Aketa gave a frustrated snarl. “It’s…ugh, words.”
“Take your time,” Hylas encouraged.
“It…town is…rotten flower. On a vine. It causes bad things. In minds. Bad feelings. Forest says…the flower was a sprout when I was little. It’s bloomed now. The vine that feeds it…it goes east. It’s old. Old power.”
“You’re saying that there’s some sort of magical corruption happening in Paramis that started in the east?” Jinua said slowly.
Varse was to the east, where R was. Was this just a coincidence?
“I think…Iphis,” Aketa said. “She reeks of it.”
Jinua hummed. “Are you sure?”
“Before, no reek, no flower. Then Iphis comes, and the flower starts blooming. It’s Iphis.”
Ontiku shrugged. “It’s worth an investigation.”
“You’re just saying that because she’s a priestess,” Jinua argued.
“No, I understand the risks. She’s beloved by the town to a fanatical degree. If they see us as a threat to her in any way, we’re in trouble.”
She tugged on her ebony braid. “Even if you’re right, and it is Iphis—which I seriously doubt, given how much she hates necromancers—we won’t be able to do anything. She never leaves the temple. She’ll have sanctuary.”
Aketa tipped her head like a cat.
“You can’t arrest or hurt anyone who has sanctuary.”
Aketa snorted. “Sure can.”
“You’ll be cursed by the gods,” Jinua warned. “Demigod or not, they don’t take kindly to people who break sanctuary. I’d likely lose my status as a paladin.”
“Not to mention the rumors that would follow us,” Ontiku mused. “If we burst into the temple, ransack it, and physically lay hands on Iphis, that’s going to follow us throughout our journey. People will retaliate against us. We won’t be able to get food, supplies, shelter…”
“That’s not fair,” Hylas protested. “What if she attacks us?”
“Then sanctuary is broken, and we’ll be able to respond in kind,” Jinua said. “But that’s only if she attacks first, not prompted by any threats or fake attacks.”
“Fylan might know something,” Ontiku suggested. “He seems to spend a lot of time with her.”
“He can also read,” Hylas piped in. “I’ve seen him.”
Two possible suspects, both of them devoted to the gods for life. Jinua shook her head. “The only reason for R to have contacted either of them would be to threaten them. R allied with a necromancer—not like you, Hylas, but a truly evil one. Ontiku and I had to kill her to save a town.”
“They could be trying to manipulate Iphis? Goading her?” Ontiku suggested.
“Maybe…” That was something that should be brought to the priestess’s attention, at least. “Except they both said that they didn’t know the messenger, Bovis.”
“They could’ve lied. Or they might not have known his name at all. Most messengers don’t introduce themselves. They just deliver their message and go.”
“True…”
The conversation lulled. Jinua still couldn’t make sense of this puzzle, and it was driving her mad.
“Forest cannot heal me,” Aketa said out of the blue. “Not the rest.”
“Most likely not,” Jinua agreed. “I can’t do it either. Not alone, and I’m sorry. I think we should get you to a paladin of Yatehi or Kewey. They’ll be much better prepared to help you.”
“Could be one in Varse,” Ontiku mentioned.
“I’m not leaving Aketa,” Hylas said.
“We’re not going there for a vacation. It’s a dangerous journey.”
“And going to the necromancer school by myself isn’t?”
Point.
“Together,” Aketa decided, crossing her arms. Jinua didn’t know if she meant all four of them or just her and her brother, but the end result was the same.
“All right,” she said. “We’ll go back to town one more time to figure out what’s going on with Iphis. Then we leave for Varse as soon as possible.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THEY SPENT THE night in the forest, all four of them exhausted from the events of the day. Aketa showed them where she’d been sleeping for the last four years: a moss-covered branch on a tree. Ontiku snorted at it. “What a lovely way to break my neck.”
They slept on the ground, which made Jinua twitchy, remembering the feeling of moving roots and a tree trying to crush her. The nearby trees stayed stationary, though, giving them room to rest.
Aketa vanished briefly and came back with their abandoned bags, including food and water. Jinua meditated and prayed to Jadiim for guidance before going to sleep.
She opened her eyes to the Great Steppe, an endless field of short grassland crushed by blue sky. Home.
The angel Ayize stood next to her, tall and muscled, with dark skin and a simple white wrap. His eyes were of fire, matching the massive flaming wings on his back.
“Angelic One,” she greeted, bowing. Dreams were an important way that gods and angels spoke to their paladins. She’d only had one other divine dream before, back in Capulstos, and it had brought bittersweet news.
“Really?” Ayize drawled. “Another necromancer?”
Jinua blinked. “He’s a boy.”
“He’s a necromancer.”
“He’s done nothing wrong.”
“Not yet,” he warned. “It’s only a matter of time. They refuse to follow the gods.”
“His sister is Eskir’s child.”
“Which is why King Jadiim is not ordering his immediate execution. But you’re outnumbered now. If something goes wrong…”
Jinua tugged on her ebony braid, looking at the Great Steppe where she grew up. He had a point. If Ontiku or Hylas or Aketa turned against her, it was likely they’d all end up teaming against her. She knew she could survive a fight against any one of them—or even two, since Hylas was not much of a fighter—but all three at once?
“Ontiku wants to take Hylas to a necromancy school where he’ll be safe. I don’t know how I feel about that,” she admitted.
“You think they’ll corrupt him.”
“They haven’t corrupted Ontiku. But Enejel…”
Ayize sighed. “One of the hardest things a paladin must do is bloody their hands now to spare more bloodshed later. To commit a small evil now for the greater good later. Many paladins have hesitated just as you are doing, and thousands of innocents suffered for their inaction.”
Jinua’s breath caught. “I can’t kill a child. Even if it wasn’t so dishonorable…I can’t.”
“He’s a necromancer. The laws of honor don’t apply to him. Unlike a Mebew priestess.”
“We’re just going to talk.”
He gave her a stern look through eyes of fire. “I hope for your sake you’re right. Don’t let those necromancers persuade you into doing anything rash.”
“They won’t,” Jinua promised. “We’ll treat Iphis with all the respect her station deserves. But if she attacks us without provocation, then I will be honor-bound to defend them.”
“And if one of the necromancers attacks first?”
Jinua swallowed. There was only one answer to that. “Then I’ll execute them myself.”
THEY LEFT THE forest with the first rays of dawn. Jinua dug up her weapons and shield. Aketa hesitated by the last of the trees, putting her hand on its trunk.
“Are you all right?” Hylas asked quietly.
“They’re my friends,” she said.
“We’ll come back,” he promised. “Once your mind is healthy again, they’ll be so happy to see you!”
Jinua took her time wiping the dirt off of her sword, knife, and shield, giving them the illusion of privacy. Ontiku used the freshly-cleaned bronze knife he’d taken from Nysia to sharpen his bone ones. When the siblings finally joined them, he handed the bronze knife to Hylas. “Here. I don’t need it.”
Though she herself had begun training in Jadiim’s holy army when she was just a teenager, Jinua eyed the exchange warily. Seeing a weapon in such a young hand felt wrong. “Maybe you two should stay in the forest. Look after each other while Aketa and I handle this.”
No one else had more reason to lash out against Iphis than these two necromancers. No need to dangle temptation in front of their noses.
Hylas tucked the knife in his belt. “No. I’m not hiding from them anymore.”
That’s what I’m worried about, she thought.
They walked back to Paramis, reaching the town just after midday.
All eyes turned to them. For once, it wasn’t Jinua drawing everyone’s attention. Aketa’s horns stole the show. She brought her shoulders up to her ears.
The temple acolyte went wide-eyed when Jinua asked to see Iphis. The four of them were shuffled into the main worshiping area. Late-afternoon sunlight lit the whole room in a warm, golden glow, illuminating Mebew’s wooden statue.
Aketa’s nose wrinkled. “Reeks,” she said.
They waited several minutes. When no one came, Ontiku huffed. “I’m going to find somewhere to relieve myself.”
Jinua frowned at him. “Don’t cause any trouble.”
“Of the two of us, I’m not the one to worry about.”
She made a face at his back as he disappeared around the corner.
Iphis kept them waiting long enough for Jinua to start pacing the length of the room. She swept in with her white priestess robe, her graying hair up in elaborate braids. It made Jinua squirm, standing next to her in a filthy dress and dirt-stained skin. After nearly a week in and out of the forest, all of them were a wreck next to the radiant priestess.
What was it her mentor Livius had said? Appearances mean as little as shit on a shoe. Jinua had accomplished quite a bit in the last few days. She’d earned this mud on her skin.
“Holy Sister,” Iphis greeted coldly, glancing at the demigod and her necromancer brother. “I see you were…mostly successful with Aketa.”
The demigod quietly growled. Hylas stepped next to her, not quite able to hide his fear of the priestess but not shrinking away from her.
Jinua cleared her throat. “We’re actually here to discuss something else with you. Earlier, you told me that you hadn’t heard of the messenger Bovis. Would you care to repeat that?” She held out her hand for Iphis to take.
The priestess scoffed. “Are you accusing me of lying?”
“Ma’am, please. This is uncomfortable for all of us.”
Iphis gave a disappointed sigh, but delicately rested her fingers over Jinua’s filthy palm. They were incredibly soft. “No, I did not lie. I don’t know anybody by the name Bovis.”
“Have you received any letters or correspondence from someone using the name R?”
Iphis frowned. “Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”
Jinua gasped. “What did the letter say?”
She pulled her hand free. “That is none of your concern.”
