Mistress Of The Ages (In Her Name, Book 9) (2 page)

“I do not know. They said only that you would know it when it came for you, and it would be the last thing you would see before an agonizing death snatched you from this life.”

“And how do you know this, if they died before they could speak of their fate?”

He laughed. “Remember, child, I am among the dead now. Those unfortunates dwell here, as well, and these things they told me.”

Keel-Tath felt a fresh surge of warmth under her eyes at the reminder that Ayan-Dar was dead. It was so easy, standing here, even as strange as the world around her appeared, to believe that he was still alive. She reached out to touch him again, knowing he must not be real, but unable to deny what her senses told her. “Then why would you have me go there? I can die here just as easily.” She could not keep the bitterness from her voice.

“I do not taunt you, child,” he told her gently. “One of the architects of the Great Moon should be familiar to you: Anuir-Ruhal’te. She was responsible for creating its defenses. It would be easy to believe that her efforts were a failure until you realized that, when the defenses finally collapsed and the settlement there was destroyed, the resources of three entire worlds from when our civilization was truly at the height of its power were focused on its destruction.”

“Even should all that be true, these ancient defenses would kill me as well. It brings us no closer to sanctuary.”

His eye narrowed as he gazed upon her. “She was probably the most brilliant mind to ever grace our species, and managed to create something so perfect as you from a distance in time of a hundred thousand cycles. I must believe that whatever remains on the moon, forged by her hand, has been waiting all these millennia for you, just as we have.”

“Can you…can you ask her?”

“Ask whom, and what?”

“Anuir-Ruhal’te. Can you ask her what this weapon is, and how I might defeat it?”

Ayan-Dar’s expression fell. “Sadly, I cannot. There is a veil in the realm of the dead that separates us from the ancient ones, from the old gods such as she. I have tried.”

Keel-Tath was silent for a moment. “Can I speak to others of the dead, or only you?”

“For now, it appears only me. We shared blood before you touched the Crystal of Souls of the Desh-Ka. I believe that partly opened a bridge between our realms that only I can cross. But I suspect as your powers grow, this will change.” He nodded, finally realizing the thrust of her question. “You are thinking of Ria-Ka’luhr.”

“Yes,” she replied. “Is he…is he with you?”

“No, child. He is not dead. Not yet.”

“Then where is he? I must find him! We need his help.”

Shaking his head, Ayan-Dar told her, “His destiny lies along a different path. That is all I may tell you for now.”

“Will I ever see him again?”

“I do not know.” Looking down, Ayan-Dar made a deep growl in the back of his throat at the legions that carpeted the plains below the temple, and his hand moved to the handle of his sword. “Time grows short, daughter. You must go to the moon. Alone.”

“I am afraid,” she whispered.
 

Putting his hand to her cheek, he said, “There is no shame in fear. Just do not let it control you. Remember, you are the light that stands against the darkness. Never forget that.” Leaning close, he kissed her on the forehead and held her one last time as he did when she was but a child.

CHAPTER TWO

Tara-Khan knelt beside Keel-Tath. He had never left her side, never let his gaze wander from her face, since she had fallen into a deep sleep the evening before as the sun set on the darkest day in the long history of the Desh-Ka, the day the priests and priestesses had fought one another over Keel-Tath, over the future. Keel-Tath had prevailed after assimilating the powers of the Desh-Ka Crystal of Souls, but the Desh-Ka were vulnerable now, a lonely candle against the darkness.

Dara-Kol had wanted to rouse her with the rising of the sun, but he had sent her away, for he knew that Keel-Tath was not simply tired, not simply resting. Her body was exhausted from its ordeal with the crystal, yes, but something was happening within her mind, within her soul. He could not tell what it was, but somehow knew that it was important. He could feel it just as he could feel the rain upon his skin, even if Dara-Kol and the others could not.

Once during the night, he was overcome with boldness and took Keel-Tath’s hand in his, holding it ever so gently. In the flickering candle light that was the only illumination in the crude shelter in which they had placed her, there being no habitable buildings left in the temple, he thought he saw her lips turn up in a smile and her fingers gave his a slight squeeze. She had rolled over toward him and put her other hand over his, her head resting against his knee. With his other hand, he brushed back a wisp of her snow white hair that had come undone from one of her braids and fallen over her eyes. She murmured his name, and his heart melted.

As the sun continued to rise, the others, those who had survived the destruction of the temple, gathered outside, and he could not help but hear their voices. With great care, he extracted his hand from Keel-Tath’s and slowly, quietly, rose to his feet and left the shelter.

“While she sleeps, our enemies prepare to strike.” Alena-Khan, who now held the honor of high priestess of the Desh-Ka after the death of T’ier-Kunai and the other elders, said. “The child may be the chosen one, but she knows nothing of war. We dare wait no longer. We must act.”

“She sleeps to regain her strength,” Tara-Khan said as he emerged from the entrance of the hastily erected shelter that had protected Keel-Tath from the heavy rain that had deluged the plateau. An unnaturally fierce storm had swept through not long after the battle at the temple had ended. “Tell me, did your hands touch the Crystal of Souls when you became a priestess? Or were you merely singed by its fire?”

The priestess’s eyes widened and her hand dropped to her sword.
 

“Tara-Khan! Enough!” Dara-Kol waded through the ankle deep water toward them, Ka’i-Lohr and the hulking Drakh-Nur in tow.
 

“I will let your arrogance pass, child,” Alena-Khan hissed. “This time.”

Stepping closer, his own hand gripping his sheathed sword, Tara-Khan said, “I do not fear the sword in the hand of another, even a priestess of the Desh-Ka.”

Dara-Kol grabbed the top of his breast plate and pulled him so close that their noses, dripping water from the rain that still poured from the sky, touched. “Have not enough of us died already? Think! You cannot serve Keel-Tath if you are dead.”

He wrenched free of her grip and stepped back. He held her stare for a moment before finally dropping his gaze. “My apologies, priestess,” he mumbled in Alena-Khan’s direction, barely audible above the rain.

“Accepted,” Alena-Khan grated. To Dara-Kol she said, “What did you discover?”

Dara-Kol, Ka’i-Lohr, and Drakh-Nur had been tasked with a reconnaissance of the approaches to the plateau. It would have been an easy task for any of the priesthood, but Keel-Tath had ordered them to find any survivors in the wreckage of the buildings and aid the builders in preparing what defenses they could against the attack that must soon come. With so many lost during the fierce fighting at the temple, every Desh-Ka had become that much more precious.
 

“At least eight legions have gathered near the trailhead leading from the valley,” Dara-Kol answered. “More were visible on the plains before the rain shielded them from view, but they were too distant to see clearly.”

“At least as many have taken up positions to the north, on the far side of the river,” Ka’i-Lohr added. He and Drakh-Nur had made a harrowing ride on magtheps to the opposite side of the plateau, which was bounded by a swift flowing river in a deep gorge. “The river has already risen so far from this infernal storm that the bridge was swept away. Syr-Nagath’s forces are trapped on the far side.”

“As we are here,” Alena-Khan concluded, frustration plain in her voice.
 

“They would be as helpless meat before your swords, let alone your greater powers,” Tara-Khan said. He looked up, letting the rain splatter in his face. “I do not understand why you fear them. They would never even realize we were upon them in this weather. Not until it was too late.”

Alena-Khan grabbed his arm and whirled him toward the Kal’ai-Il, where a mass of robed ones huddled in silent misery. They were guarded by four warriors of the creche, and the cries of younglings rose above the pelting of the rain. They had returned after the battle had finally ended. “In case it escaped your notice, not all of us here are warriors. Would you have the younglings snapped up by the Dark Queen? Let her slaughter our robed ones as she has done elsewhere when it suited her? No, I say. We are beholden to them. Our honor and duty extend beyond personal glorification. This is something a true warrior understands.” She let him go with an angry shove. Turning back to Dara-Kol, Alena-Khan said, “We can hold off Syr-Nagath’s legions for a time. The trail to the plateau is narrow, and they…”

“They need not use the trail,” Ka’i-Lohr reminded her with a glance at Tara-Khan, who nodded, his expression even more grim. “Her forces attacked Ku’ar-Amir from the sea and the air.”

“Even as weakened as we are, such fragile things as those airships would be a trifle for us to deal with,” Alena-Khan assured him.

“And the ships she plans to use to cross the stars and attack the Settlements?” Ka’i-Lohr persisted. “What if she uses those?”

Alena-Khan opened her mouth, then slowly nodded. None who stood here now had been born when the last war across the stars had been fought, but all had been told the tales from the generation that had come before them. The Desh-Ka had, at the end, turned the tide and defeated the invading fleet. But the builders had been given months to prepare the temple’s defenses, creating great machines that the keepers of the Books of Time had brought forth from the temple’s storehouse of ancient knowledge. But those machines, as the Way dictated, had been done away with, their essence converted by the builders to other uses, once the war was over and the great cycle of civilization began again. But now, with Syr-Nagath’s legions at the temple’s very gates and the other priesthoods likely gathering to contain the Desh-Ka’s heresy, the builders would not have months. They likely would not have hours beyond what it had taken to help recover those who had been trapped in the buildings that had collapsed during the battle.
 

Alena-Khan swept her eyes around the plateau. Little was visible through the rain beyond the distance of a stone’s throw, but she did not need her eyes to see that doom was upon them. “We will fight and die with honor,” she said, “but in the end it will all be for naught.”

“Do not despair, high priestess of the Desh-Ka.”

Startled, they all turned to find Keel-Tath standing outside the entrance to the shelter. She wore a new set of armor to replace that which had been scorched and melted when she had touched the crystal. The cyan rune of the Desh-Ka glowed in the center of her breastplate, and some trick of the dreary light made a halo that framed her snow white hair. The sword of her father, Kunan-Lohr, murdered by Syr-Nagath, was strapped to her back. A smaller sword, better suited to her still growing frame, was at her waist. The rain seemed not to touch her.

“Mistress,” Alena-Khan said, bringing her left fist to her chest and bowing her head in the tla’a-kane, the ritual salute. The others, not just in the circle, but all who could see Keel-Tath, fell to one knee and saluted.

As Keel-Tath stepped forward, she gently put a hand on Tara-Khan’s shoulder. He looked up, their gazes meeting for a brief moment before he averted his eyes.

“Arise,” Keel-Tath told them, a bloom of warmth expanding in her chest at the honor they rendered to her. “Alena-Khan is right,” she said. “With all the Homeworld now bound to Syr-Nagath and the other orders aligned against us, the Settlements would not likely shelter us, so we are indeed trapped. There is nowhere we can go where the Dark Queen or the priesthoods will not eventually find and overwhelm us.” She flashed her fangs in a fierce smile. “Or so we would have them believe.”

“What do you mean?” Alena-Khan asked.

Keel-Tath’s smile faded as she stepped close to the priestess. “There is one place where we may find sanctuary, but the door is locked and only I have the key. You must take me there.”

“Mistress…” Tara-Khan stepped toward her. “Wherever you would go, I would go with you!”

“No,” she told him, sensing his fear, his concern. His love. While she could hear the spiritual song of all those in her bloodline, the Bloodsong, his had become stronger than any other after she had saved his life, and its melody was pleasing to her soul. “This I must do alone, dear one.” Taking Alena-Khan’s hands, Keel-Tath said, “I know I now have the power to whisk myself from one place to another, but I do not yet know how to use it and we have not the time for you to teach me. I can guide you, but until I learn, you must take me upon your wings.”

“Are you sure, mistress? Such a thing has been done before, but is terribly dangerous.”

“Yes, I am sure,” Keel-Tath said in what she hoped was a brave voice. Inside, she was shaking. To the others, she added, “Make ready to leave as soon as we return.”

“But where are you going?” Dara-Kol cried. “Wait!”

There was no answer. Alena-Khan and Keel-Tath had already vanished.

CHAPTER THREE

Syr-Nagath, born of Ka’i-Nur and now undisputed ruler of the Homeworld, strode into the great hall of the palace of Ku’ar-Amir. Porters of water were still at work, cleaning the blood stains from the healer Syr-Nagath had killed before the inquisition of Keel-Tath, and builders were repairing the damage inflicted on the hall during the brief but fierce battle when Ayan-Dar had come to rescue the girl and her companions.
 

At first convinced that the Desh-Ka would upset her plans, Syr-Nagath had howled with glee when she saw, through the eyes of Ka’i-Lohr, that the Desh-Ka were gutting themselves over the white-haired abomination. The ancient priesthood still posed a threat, but one that could now be dealt with far more easily than before. Unwittingly, they had done her a great service, and she made note to personally thank Keel-Tath when they next met, which would be soon. Using those she controlled through ancient magic drawn from the Books of Time held deep in the fortress of Ka’i-Nur, she ordered her legions to surround the Desh-Ka temple and prepare to destroy the priesthood. For the attacking warriors, there could be no greater honor than to die at the hands of a Desh-Ka, and they marched with haste born of anticipation of combat as much as fear of Syr-Nagath’s wrath if they failed in their task.