03 - The Eternal Rose (54 page)

“At a canter,” Captain Kargyll called. “Charge!"

The troop leaped ahead, spreading out to fill the street side to side, two ranks deep, facing the demon's forces. The first rank carried their carbines. The second held cavalry sabers, ready to take the lead after the volley was fired, to allow the first rank time to draw their sabers. There would be no time to reload.

Kallista spurred her mount, ready to charge after them, forgetting Torchay still held her reins. Her poor horse tried to obey, circling him, fighting for its head.

“We follow,” Torchay shouted at her. “But slower."

"Form up,"
Joh called.

Kallista fumed at the waste of time as her iliasti moved into positions they'd decided on without her. Obed and Fox took the lead in a wedge formation, with Joh and Leyja behind and outside them, Viyelle and Aisse in a third rank even further out. Kallista rode in the center, directly behind the two leaders, with Padrey and Torchay on either side of her.

“Can we go
now?
” she asked caustically. “Before the demon kills my children?"

“We're already moving,” Torchay growled back. “You're no’ in this alone, woman, and I'll thank you to remember that."

Blast the man and his attitude. Kallista reached for the magic, cursing when it responded sluggishly. “Padrey, what are you doing?"

“Nothing. Riding.” He gave her a bewildered look.

Kallista swore and hauled hard on the magic. She stretched, looking past Obed and Fox as the carbine volley sounded and rioters fell. She regretted the necessity, but she needed to save her magic—her strength—for the demon. She couldn't put them to sleep like she had the others. The magic never ran dry, but her strength was all too finite, and she'd been flinging magic with abandon for hours. The second rank surged ahead and crashed into the mob, breaking it apart, crushing it under flying hooves. The first rank followed, sabers flashing.

The crowd disintegrated, screaming as they fled. The troopers didn't pursue, fighting straight ahead, clearing a path to the wide-open outer gate.

Her magic rushed toward her in a sudden gust and Kallista scrambled to grab it, managing to stay astride only by instinct and years of riding. What was wrong with this stupid magic? She had a demon to fight. She didn't need to fight her magic too.

Chapter Thirty-Two

The wedge of her godmarked hit the remnants of the mob, scattering it further, dealing sharply with those still inclined to fight. Kallista shaped her magic, gifted it with both demon names, and as she plunged through the gate, she let it fly.

The hunter shape of the magic arrowed straight toward the demon where the spiderweb shape she'd made clung, wrapped around it to prevent escape. The dark destroying veil dissolved the demon's substance, eating through it like acid on stone. The demon shrieked, recoiled, sent claws lashing out.

It struck just as Kallista saw the gaping inner gate. Terror for her children blended with the sharp pain of the demon attack, tearing a scream from her throat.
She had to save them.

She threw herself from her horse and dashed ahead, through the inner gate, across the courtyard into the embassy.

“Kallista, wait!"

Torchay's shout was noted and dismissed. She couldn't wait. Her children needed her.

Darting through wide chambers and down narrow corridors, Kallista drew magic, struggling with its erratic response. She swore as she fought it. Where was this attitude coming from? She did not have time to stop and straighten out her iliasti.

The magic bucked and she slapped it down. She shook it, willing it to behave, to do what she wanted it to do, as she ran blindly ahead. Straight into the arms of Daryathi champions.

Kallista laughed as one of them snatched her up, pinning her arms to her sides. She didn't need hands to use her magic. These men had no idea what she could do. She split off part of the magic and shaped it. Just as she pushed it out to drop them in their tracks, it crumbled. Vaporized into nothingness.

No! Not again.

She heard Torchay bellow her name as her captor bore her off, leaving his comrades to fight. She heard the clash of steel as her men attacked the champions behind her. Obed would be at Torchay's side, fighting with his usual silence. Fox—yes, that was his shout. Kallista tested her links, counted them, shielded them. They were all there. So why wasn't the magic?

She couldn't even reach through the links and touch it inside them. It was there. She could sense it. But she couldn't touch it.

Bouncing over the shoulder of the champion in the unpainted kilt as he carried her deeper into her residence, Kallista called her old magic, the lightning that had come to her when she was leaving childhood. With her hands pinned against her hips this way, she would burn herself as badly as the man who carried her, but she didn't care. She wanted free. She needed to save her babies.

But if she broke free now, she would be alone in the midst of the demon's minions with her magic gone missing. And if she didn't free herself, they would carry her to the leader of this attack—and that person's demonic rider.

And her magic had gone missing.

She wanted to reach the demon. But
with
her magic. Without it, she was as helpless as one of the slaves she'd just freed, as one of her children.
Where had it gone?

Once more, she reached back down the links with her godmarked, almost dove bodily through them to grab hold of her magic. It slipped through her grasp like minnows in a pond. The sound of fighting grew louder again. She was out of time.

Frantic, Kallista lashed out with her lightning, stifling her cry as it singed along her leg. Her captor dropped like a felled ox with a deep grunt of sound.

The men to either side shouted and grabbed for her. Kallista, on the floor over the fallen man, caught their wrists and fed the lightning directly into their bodies. They collapsed into two twitching, drooling heaps.

A gunshot rang out behind her and Kallista ducked. The fighting behind was catching up. Her iliasti would reach her soon. All she had to do was wait. But her babies were in danger.

All of them were hers, from baby Lissta to just-found Sky to her beautiful, beautiful twins. She had to get her magic back and save them. And while she worked on that, she could creep ahead—careful not to get captured again—and spy things out.

The thought hadn't fully formed before Kallista moved, slipping from the corridor into the maze of rooms that would take her eventually to the fighting near the nursery. She passed quickly through the empty rooms, listening through doors or draperies before inching them open to look, then scurrying across. But finally, the rooms didn't connect any further. She would have to risk the corridor again.

Kallista lay flat on the floor to peer through the gap under the hallway door. A man lay on the floor outside, staring back, tattoos stark on his blood-smeared face. Alarm pounded through her until she recognized the blank stare of the dead.

Booted feet thumped past her view, running toward the nursery, and Kallista slid on her stomach to change her angle, see further in that direction. More feet, more than she could count quickly, pushing, slipping, bracing ... fighting. The men on those feet were fighting. Which meant Keldrey still held, right?

She felt a tug on one of her links and tugged back, instinctively.

Here. I'm here.

A wave of worry, approaching terror, surged toward her from all her links. She tried to farspeak them but couldn't catch enough magic even for that. She could only send back the sense that she was safe for now, and a warning to be careful.

Their relief was so strong, it wrapped around her like a blanket and made her smile. Then came a rush of anger from Torchay, capped with an imperiousness that could only mean “Stay there.” She had to smother a laugh that dissolved into a sob. What had happened to their ilian, that the magic had dissolved?

The magic was still there. She could feel it. So why couldn't she call it? Why couldn't she...?

Was
she
the problem? Could it be?

Kallista sat up, set her back against the door carefully, so it didn't rattle. If anyone wanted in, she wouldn't be taken by surprise. She had to
think
.

Where was Joh when she needed him?

Again, Kallista's heart froze. The thought had been a joke, an attempt to lighten her heavy-weighted thoughts, but was it really? She'd been captured because she'd left her iliasti behind. Was there more to her abandonment than that? When had the magic first vanished on her?

This morning, when she'd tried to send the magic into the Nabili, the magic had dissipated like fog in a breeze. But earlier, when Khoriseth had punched out of the bubble where she'd trapped it.... She'd felt the magic weaken, just before the demon escaped.
Why?
What had been different about that moment? About all the other moments?

She tried to rebuild that instant of time. Her soldiers had been
there
, the justice champions
there,
Chani with Khoriseth between them. Kallista had caught the demon inside shields and wrapped the destruction magic around that. When it worked, she'd felt so—so
triumphant.
And then the demon had escaped.

Was that it? Feeling too much glee over defeating demons? But when the magic actually vanished, she hadn't been gleeful. She'd been ... Kallista shuddered. She'd been angry. She hadn't sent her magic into the Nabili to search. She'd already searched the woman. She sent it to punish her. For daring to defy Kallista's authority.

Kallista's
authority.

Oh
Goddess
. Kallista hid her face in her hands and hunched over the sudden pain in her gut as shame hit her.

"You're not in this alone,"
Torchay had said.

She had forgotten that. Had got so caught up in what she could do, so wrapped up in being the Reinine, in being the one with all the pretty magic, she had forgotten that none of it was actually
hers
.

All of it—the magic, the title, even her precious family—all had been given to her by the One Ruler of All.
All
, not just Adara or Daryath, but everything. Including life itself. Her very life was a gift from the One, and she had forgotten.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, rocking herself back and forth, weeping in remorse.
Of course
the magic wouldn't come, if she failed to recognize its source. It came
through
her iliasti, the godmarked, but it came
from
the One. And it was not meant to be used for her petty whims or to make her look important. She herself had no power at all.

She'd been able to call the magic to heal Padrey. Maybe because her focus had been on him, not herself. But she hadn't learned from it. Now, again the magic wouldn't answer—perhaps to be sure she did learn—and she didn't know how to fix it.

A whisper of sound brought her head up, her hand swiping across hot, wet eyes when Torchay, Obed and Fox burst quietly into the room. The others followed the instant Fox signaled as he tucked a pistol in his belt. He'd been the one shooting.

Torchay rushed over, sliding the last bit on his knees, sheathing his swords before he reached out to examine her. “Are you hurt? What's happened?"

Obed stood over them, listening at the entrance, peering through the crack between the double doors. The others stayed back a space, behind Fox who stared without seeing at Kallista.

“I'm fine.” She swiped at her cheeks again, pressed her fingers against her burning eyes.

“We'll see them safe.” Torchay apparently agreed with her assessment. He put an arm around her and squeezed. He must think she wept over the threat to the children.

“Are you sure you're all right?” Fox asked. He blinked, and looked through his new-healed eyes
at
Kallista.

She frowned. “Mostly. Why? What do you see?"

“What do you mean, mostly?” Torchay caught her chin and turned her to face him again, searching for injury.

She pushed his hand away and stood, wincing as the burn down her leg rubbed against her trousers.

“Damn it, what have you done to yourself?” He attacked her laces, to pull the trousers down and see for himself. “I don't see any blood."

“There isn't any. It's a burn, all right? I burned myself with my lightning. It's not that bad.” She watched Fox who watched her right back.

“I'll be the judge of what's bad or no'.” Torchay hissed as he exposed the burn. “Bad enough. There's blisters."

Kallista ignored him. “What do you see, Fox?"

He shook his head. “I don't know. It's—I haven't seen anything like it before, exactly. I—I can see it both ways, with my eyes and my knowing."

“Can the rest of you see anything?"

Torchay looked up in the middle of covering her burn with a soft bandage. “I don't see anything different."

The others shook their heads, Joh and Obed after them, taking longer to look.

“How did you get the burn?” Joh asked softly. “Why?"

Kallista couldn't meet his eyes for more than an instant before she had to look away. She licked her dry lips, swallowed hard. But she wouldn't lie to them any longer. “Lightning was the only magic I could call."

Torchay's head jerked up. Aisse clapped her hand over her mouth. They all stared at her in horror.

Tears filled her eyes again as Torchay laid his hand on her stomach, under her tunic. “Are you—?"

She shook her head, flinging away tears. “No, I'm not pregnant. Even if I was, it's too soon for that to stop the magic, and it would stop the lightning too. No, this is my fault. My own stupid pride."

“What do you mean?” Obed touched her cheek, his concerned frown making the tears come faster.

Kallista caught his hand, held it and ignored his question. Other things were more important now. “Fox.” She held his gaze. “What
exactly
is it you see?"

He cleared his throat. “A ... shadow. I don't know how else to describe it. There's a shadow round your throat and down your chest. Over your heart. It's very faint, but..."