Sacrifice (Catalyst Moon #5), page 38
Etia answered first. “High Commander Argent has served Aredia well. You all no doubt heard of the recent thrall attack a few leagues from our beloved city. Under High Commander Argent’s leadership, the sentinels destroyed the monsters and protected us all. It pleases me to announce that Argent will continue to serve Aredia in my stead. I am honored that he has agreed to follow in my humble steps.” A pleased murmur rippled through the Fata-magicked crowd.
Argent bowed. “The honor is mine.” His rich voice echoed through the chamber. “I swear by the One and all the gods, I will serve the people of Aredia in accordance with the One god’s plan.”
Whatever that means, Kali thought, although she could not tear her eyes away from the Pillars enough to roll them.
The sentinel High Commander met the Pillar at the pedestal and removed his gloves. They stood on opposite sides: the towering figure in shining silver armor and the tiny, frail form swathed in robes. Etia held her palms over the bowl, where a faint blue glow tinted her skin. Argent placed his hands in hers so that his palms faced the ceiling. The rainbow light filtering through the windows painted them both as Argent lowered his hands—and hers—to the water within the bowl, all while keeping his gaze locked on the Pillar. He cupped the liquid in his palms and, with Etia’s hands still cradling his, brought them back to his lips to drink. Kali watched closely, as did everyone, but saw no trace of a Fata’s glowing eyes in either Argent or Etia.
Etia lowered her hands and closed her eyes, tilting her face up. She swayed a little, but caught herself on the pedestal, and managed, “It’s done.”
Argent inhaled deeply, shakily, his mouth opening and closing. A shudder ran through his bulky form and he, too, leaned against the pedestal, his breathing quick, his hands trembling.
Kali’s breath caught. If he were truly possessed, he’d be disoriented at the sudden onslaught of Fata emotions. Even covered in armor and accompanied by the other sentinels, he would be vulnerable to someone who knew enough about Fata abilities to attack. She glanced at Stonewall to see if he’d strike, but he remained still. His heart was still closed to her, but his distant expression told her his mind was elsewhere.
A good sign? She couldn’t tell; did she know him at all, anymore?
Tal shifted at her other side, caught Kali’s eye and nodded once. You can do this.
Conviction swelled in Kali’s heart. It must be now, she thought, and sought out Baat once more. His gaze slipped from Argent to her, and his interest spiked.
Yes, my dear? he purred in her mind.
The belittling endearment made her clench a fist around her beaded belt, pressing the carved skulls into her palm as she replied, I suppose I’ve kept you on tenterhooks long enough. My answer, she steeled herself, is yes.
Baat smiled and motioned her forward. Soft gasps rippled through the crowd as Kali limped to the dais, leaning heavily on her staff. Even the Elder Fata’s mind-magic could not stop the crowd from murmuring unknown, crippled, and weak, but Kali closed her mind to the chatter as she had done her entire life. She reached Argent’s side; he still seemed disoriented, but when he looked at her, he laughed aloud, and his eyes flashed with silver fire.
* * *
Stonewall stood at an impasse, holding his body rigid in the heart of the great Temple of the One while his mind sought the Shadowlands – and Wild Eyes. He could not enter the Fata’s realm, not without more magic than he possessed, but he could call her name, reach for her familiar spirit, and hope—pray—that she would respond. For what felt like hours, silence met his pleas and he fought to keep the hammer of desperation from striking too hard on his heart.
Dimly, he felt a cool brush of displaced air as Kali left his side; then a crashing wave pummeling his spirit as she limped toward the waiting Pillars, to Baat, to her own destiny. Stonewall’s fear spiked, although he kept it leashed tight lest he break Kali’s concentration, for she would need every morsel.
Stonewall could not stop Kali from accepting Baat’s offer – but he could ensure she didn’t have to face the Elder alone. The old Heartfire tale came back to his mind: how the lovers Tor and Amaranthea, once separated by death, found each other again in the realm of the Laughing God. Tor had faltered—too weak from battle to follow his lover to safety—but Amaranthea had spurred him to find the strength to flee the Shadowlands with her.
We leave together, or not at all.
Maybe the gods weren’t real, but their struggles still resonated in human hearts. And for Stonewall, right now, that resonance was enough to spur his own destiny along. He’d not fought his way back from death to leave his soul-bonded when she needed him most.
Focus, Stonewall scolded himself, and called for Wild Eyes again. When at last he could bear the answering silence no more, he let his own anguish loose, hoping to send the emotion away, into the void. Then, at least, he’d be free of the weight.
Kali came closer to Baat, who smiled at her. Stonewall’s heart flung itself open. You were right, he called to Wild Eyes, although he did not expect an answer. I am afraid. I have let that fear rule my every action. But I can’t change the past, only the future. And I’m begging you for your help to start that future.
And then she stood before him, at least in his mind, her eyes dim but her heart open, too. What do you want, Stonewall Starborn?
Anger resonated in her voice, but so too did a gnawing fear that matched his. Startled by her sudden appearance, he fumbled for the right words. To be a meridian; to be your bridge home. Join me, and we’ll defeat our foes – together. He flung his mind open to hers: a mental beckoning from one world to another.
Her regard sharpened, her eyes glowing brighter for one human heartbeat. You realize what you ask?
I do, he replied. But Kali… He pictured her dark eyes glowing bright and heard Baat’s laugh echoing through her lips. She’ll be lost if I let my fears win. We all will. Please, Wild Eyes. We can help each other.
She did not move. His heart, beating furiously behind his ribs, sank. But then… but then Wild Eyes reached a hand to his—still, smooth black to trembling brown—and they met across space and distance he still could not fathom. Light flared from their touch. Energy poured through him, alighting every vein, every nerve with both pleasure and pain. Wild Eyes cried out, a jolt of surprise, awe, fear, and then relief. Stonewall gasped, stumbled forward, catching himself on a nearby column as his body swam with starlight.
THIRTY-ONE
Kali joined Baat on the dais. Argent stood to the side, still dazed but watching Kali with eyes that intermittently flared with light. A priest led a stumbling Etia back to the antechamber from which she’d emerged. Kali had no idea if the former Pillar would survive the hour, or if the loss of her glimmer soul would destroy the body that had once housed it.
Something else I should learn, she thought. Sweat pricked at her spine.
As Kali stepped up to the bowl on the pedestal, she kept her gaze away from Stonewall or her other friends because she didn’t dare pull her attention too far from Baat.
Baat let out a low chuckle, then lifted his voice to reach across the audience. “I choose this priestess of Nox as–”
“That is no priestess,” Argent interjected, although his voice was hoarse. “That is a mage.”
A ripple of confusion ran through the audience. In the front row, the queen inclined her head and studied Kali, whose heart had leaped up into her throat.
Baat smiled at the new Pillar. “Not the only mage present, I think.” His gaze bore into Argent’s, who ultimately lowered his eyes, perhaps out of habitual deference to authority – or he was still reeling from the transfer of power.
Baat glanced back at Kali. That one is trouble, he said in her mind. I think Etia chose him just to irritate me for the next stretch of eternity.
Irritate us, Kali corrected.
Baat’s voice boomed. “This woman from Starwatch, a humble priestess of Nox, has proven to be an ideal vessel for my power. She will serve Aredia well.” He held out his hands over the bowl.
An ideal vessel. Kali unclenched her jaw, set her staff on the ground, and stretched out her trembling hands, which Baat’s huge palms swallowed whole. His thumbs gripped her wrists as he lowered their hands to the bowl, keeping his eyes locked onto hers. Invisible fingers crept up her spine and into her brain, searching for the best mental grip. Kali tamped down her own resistance and allowed him entry, until she sensed his presence burrowing down in the corners of her mind.
But the flow of energy went both ways, and as she was open to him, so was he open to her. When he submerged her hands in the cool water, she struck.
She twisted her hands in his grip, not enough to break the contact but enough to press her palms against his. In her mind, she did not push back against his mental energy, but instead slipped behind him, into his mind, and began to rifle through the emotions and memories she found there. The place was familiar; he’d allowed her such entry during their first meeting, but now confusion sparked within him, then annoyance. He tried to shut the door to his mind, but Kali was inside, looking around with wonder. Baat’s thoughts, feelings, and memories were little more than a jumble now, but she would untangle them in time.
Kind of a mess in here, isn’t it? She sent the words to Baat with as much sarcasm as she could muster; it was the sort of tone she’d used on Eris when her aim was simply to irritate the piss out of her friend.
Baat’s anger flared as he snarled, Get out of there, girl.
Absolutely. Just give me a moment. Kali tore through his memories, searching for the spectacular view of their world from so far above it.
He tried to pull back, but her grip was stronger than he’d anticipated, and he was disoriented from his initial attempts at transferring his spirit.
Kali gave a mental equivalent of a laugh as she worked her way further into his mind, using the Fata abilities she’d learned the hard way. Poor little lamb. Such anger is bad for your heart, though I suppose it doesn’t matter if you don’t have one.
His fingers tightened over her wrists as he pressed her hands to the base of the bowl. Water sloshed over the edge as Baat held Kali fast, staring into her eyes with his gold-fire gaze. You see me? I see you too, girl. You try to make order from chaos, but your efforts are always useless. Foolish creature. Your heart is weak. You are weak, undeserving of the gift of life.
As his hands gripped her wrists, so too did his mind overtake her own, imposing his will upon her thoughts. Kali struggled to slam the door of her mind to him, but in her arrogance, she’d allowed him too far inside. From her memories, he pulled free the faces of the mages she’d killed in Stonehaven Province: Jensine and Caith Damaris, and many others of Seren’s Children. How well she recalled the flow of power, of magic, from their bodies into her own! Their anguish slammed against her skull like the tax collector’s fist against a pauper’s door.
Baat laughed.
Kali gritted her teeth and tried to push back, but he’d found her unhealed wound and ripped open the scab. He thrust her mother’s face to the forefront of Kali’s mind: battered and bloody, a failure in life and in death.
Just like you, Baat sneered.
Tears ran down Kali’s cheeks, but she could not spare more than a second to wonder what this transfer must look like to their audience. She shoved on her mental door, all her considerable focus straining to close the breach in her mind, but, as everyone had warned, Baat was stronger.
Her father appeared next, gray and wan as the last time she’d seen him, abed in the infirmary of the Starwatch garrison. Hematite had come to claim its due and the once strong and capable sentinel lay dying while she wept at his bedside, helpless to stop the poison he’d taken his entire life. He used hematite to protect you from yourself, from your own foul magic, Baat murmured. How disappointed he would be, to see the monster you’ve become.
“No,” Kali whispered. Her hands were still immersed in the bowl of water, locked in Baat’s unrelenting grasp. “That’s not…”
His grip tightened, sending a sharp pain up her forearm. Stonewall’s face appeared in her mind; his gaze on her was pure venom despite how his body lay broken in the Stonehaven dirt.
You have a gift, indeed, Baat said, his voice ringing through her entire self. The gift of turning love into fear. Such a power! But do not fret, sweet blood. The pain in her wrists sharpened and Kali cried out as Baat added, I will wipe clean that troubled mind. When I am finished, you will know only peace.
Kali.
Kali did not recognize the new speaker in her mind, for her thoughts spun and she could not find a mental foothold.
A feeling settled over her: a warm blanket falling lightly over her entire body, sheltering, sweet. The Stonewall from her memories changed; he struggled to his feet and faced her again, his face unbloodied. His eyes shone with gold fire. Love poured over her, through her, filling the cracks in her mind and granting the calm she’d been struggling for. He placed a hand on her shoulder—real or in her mind, she could not say, for it was all the same in this moment—and spoke again. He’s wrong, Kali. Let me show you.
More images flashed through her mind: Jennet Bywater, weeping with joy over her healed husband, the man Kali had pulled from the brink of death; Atanar, the first thrall Kali had fought to save; Kamala, her mother, watching her with pride, face glowing with love despite the fierce battle that would soon claim her life; Tal, an enemy no more, now softened by Kali’s kindness and humor.
These memories, these emotions, they were more than the silent speech Kali and Stonewall had used before now. For behind the feelings of love was a strength, a power, she’d never dared to imagine. Not just Stonewall had joined his spirit to hers, but Wild Eyes, and all the other young Fata that Wild Eyes loved. The river flowed through Kali’s spirit and its passage echoed, kindred.
This…this was Fata magic.
You love me, despite…me, Stonewall said. And you can handle anything you set your mind to.
A laugh bubbled out of Kali’s throat. I could say the same about you.
I’m here and I’m not leaving again, Stonewall added. We’ll do this, together. His eyes glittered in her mind; she saw within them something new, something wild.
Amusement colored his thoughts, but love overlaid his entire being. Love, sent her way; a feather-touch amidst the relentless pounding of Baat at her mental door. But it was enough.
Dizziness, like she’d been thrown into a rushing river, made Kali’s visions swim, but she relaxed into the flow of energy and love. With all the strength she could manage, she summoned more memories, the ones that Baat had conveniently left untouched: Eris’s eyes crinkled with laughter and affection as they shared a private joke; Sadira’s concentration as they studied Aredian epic poetry; Flint’s irascible wit, egging on Kali’s own silliness; Milo’s relentless optimism, even in the face of a permanent injury; Beacon’s calm, capable hands bandaging her throat; her mother and father, as different as the two moons, but alike in their love for their daughter; the silverwood trees, pulsing with life and magic. Kindred.
You can do this, Kali told herself, and reoriented her gaze to the real world, so that she met Baat’s eyes. Only a heartbeat had passed since she had joined hands with the Pillar. No one in the audience had moved. Perhaps some struggle was normal during a transfer of power, or perhaps this was more Elder Fata magic at work.
Kali forced a wry smile on her face as she spoke to the Pillar. You call me a foul monster, a weak fool. But nothing you can call me is worse than what I’ve called myself. Try harder.
He snarled audibly, causing a few heads to jerk upright. Argent, still leaning on a nearby column, went for his sword, but Sarkiss raised a hand and Argent held still.
Baat’s hands twisted. One grabbed both of Kali’s wrists; the other went for her throat. His fingers wrapped around her neck, squeezing. I will break you, girl.
But she wasn’t afraid any longer. She delved her focus into the particles of water in the bowl—and of the bowl itself—and urged, break.
Water exploded between them, showering the nearby Circle folk and sending the front row of the audience scrambling backward, shouting. The bowl’s stone pieces clattered as they hit the top of the pedestal. Unused to a mage’s effect on particles, Baat released her wrist and disrupted the flow of power between them. The queen’s soldiers formed around their charge, hands on their sword hilts. Argent lunged forward, but Sarkiss called, “Hold!”
Silence reigned as everyone stared at Kali and Baat, but she only dimly noted these things in the back of her mind as she held the ancient Fata’s gaze. He had dropped her wrists, but still held her throat in his other hand. Her hands still hovered over the pedestal and the broken stone pieces as she poured her focus over and into them: heal. The stone shards shivered, then slowly crept together, binding to one another to form a new vessel, cracked and imperfect, but whole.
Yes, I have been broken, Kali said in Baat’s mind, but I have remade myself. And I might be broken again, but it will not be by you.
His mind was still flung open to her. Within, she sensed the overwhelming longing for her magic, a desire that drowned out all other thoughts. Sweet blood, sweet magic. Give it to me. Now.
Teeth bared in a feral grin, Kali summoned her magic and beckoned the glimmer soul that wanted nothing more than to overtake her frail human one. Baat’s strength, magic, memories…they streamed from his being into hers, pouring into her body like so much starlight. His grip at her neck slipped away as his hands fell to his sides, and the tide of magic strengthened. Memories flowed through Kali’s mind; she’d need several lifetimes to sort through them all, but in the tumult, she found what she’d been searching for: the blue and white-swirled orb hanging in the void. Here. Home. A sense of awe filled her, and she laughed aloud.
The flow of magic ebbed, then died. Kali blinked and found herself looking up into human eyes: red-veined, straining, exhausted. She touched Baat’s hand, which already looked frail. Rest now, she told him. Your time is over.
