Page 23 of Winds of Destiny
Kai
It says something about me that I’d rather face my dead than spend one more second talking to Turo right now. Probably nothing good. I know he’s in pain, heart and head and body alike. I know his world has shattered and I should find some compassion for him—and yet, to see him being so blithe about his own life makes me furious. For him to use Camrael to rationalize his irritating desire to run straight into danger, as though he has any chance of being anything other than a staggering, bleeding mess… It makes my hands shake with the urge to either tie him up or knock him out.
Turo is all I have right now. I can’t let anything happen to him. If he were to die due to his own stupidity, forget Camrael forgiving me—I would never forgive myself.
I gather the bodies of my men, ignoring the gutted and blood-drenched corpses of the Kamorans. Let them rot in the sun and be found by my wretched father whenever he deigns to descend from his stolen throne.
“You won’t win anything by defying me,” my father had told me the last time I’d brought up my plans for Cam. “A Zephythan for a marriage alliance—ridiculous! Those frivolous sea peacocks care more about making things beautiful than useful. What can we get from them, eh? We have more soldiers, more weapons, a stronger position. Weakening our city for their sakes is foolish.”
“The fact that you’re saying that proves you haven’t listened to a word I or their representative has been saying for the past week,” I’d replied, irritated beyond my ability to keep calm. “If war with Kamor is coming, then I want to know we’re fighting on the righteous side.”
He’d laughed. “There is no righteousness on the battlefield. Those who die lose, and those who live win. I intend to make sure our people win.”
His last words echo in my mind as I finally reach Ferow. I gently close his eyes, then pull his body over my shoulders. They’re dead, my men, all but Jeric—dead due to the traitorous actions of their own king, of the man who had said he intended our people to win. To live. And here they are, loyal subjects, friends, brothers and fathers and lovers…
Don’t think of it. If I think too much, I’ll break. I can’t afford that, not with Turo on the edge of irrationality and my own desire to run after Camrael eating at me with every minute that lengthens the distance between us. Someone has to be the fucking adult right now.
Fuck that it has to be me.
I lay the last member of my guard down with the others, their bodies in a straight line with their heads facing our mountain. I resist the urge to adjust their clothes or wipe away blood. If I’m lucky, very soon it won’t matter what they look like.
I’ve always prided myself on being well loved by Huridell’s god. Carnuatu visited my mother in a vision on the day of my birth, and I’ve seen him roaming the hills around Huridell on every hunt I’ve led, guiding me. He’s shared his sacred power with me and blessed me in so many ways. Now I must ask him for one last favor.
It’s a risky ritual, but I have nothing to lose at this point. I kneel before my truest friends, clasp my hands together, and raise them high above my head. “Glorious Carnuatu, your child pleads for a moment of your time,” I whisper, gathering my power between my palms until they begin to heat up. “I beg your aid for your people. I beg your aid for the pursuit of justice. I beg your aid for the life of one very dear to me.”
The fire builds, spilling out from between my fingers. This is already farther than most people take it—Carnuatu’s sacred fire is most easily handled through the medium of metal, not flesh.
I don’t care. Flesh is all I have left to offer—the strength of my body, the turmoil of my mind, and the frail hope of my heart.
“I beg you to hear my prayer.” The fire extends down my arms. The heat is so intense it should be painful, yet it isn’t. “I beg of you to hear me. I beg…”
The fire erupts, engulfing me in bright red flames. Distantly I hear a noise, but I’m focused on the intense pressure that comes with the holy fire. My body feels like it’s clamped onto an anvil, like every inch of me is being beaten under the heavy regard of my god. I refuse to flinch and stare straight ahead as the great ram himself appears before me. He’s immense, as tall as two of me, and he seems as broad as the mountain itself.
I keep my hands up and in position even though every muscle in my body is shaking from exertion. Carnuatu bends down in front of me, far enough that my body is centered between his long, curving horns. They’re hideously sharp—one wrong move and I could be sliced in two. He tilts his head, and for a moment I’m afraid he’s decided to be done with me.
Carnuatu stares at me, his dark, fathomless gaze seeing everything I am, and I stare right back. Please. My lungs don’t work properly. All I can do is mouth the words. Please. Take them home. Let me save my prince. Let me save Huridell .
A second later, Carnuatu steps back. He touches his nose to each of my men, one by one, and their bodies vanish.
Oh, thank you . He’s sent them back to Huridell, to the mausoleum. They’ll be found there by a priest and interred the way they should be, and their families will know that, although they died, their souls are with our god instead of wandering the Plains.
The pressure is getting worse. My arms tremble so much I can barely keep my hands clasped. I won’t last long.
Carnuatu turns to face me. He paws the earth twice, once with each front hoof, and then—
My grip breaks.
My arms fall, and the flames die. The pressure and heat go away, and all I’m left with is the pain from the fight tempered by the fact that Carnuatu has blessed me. He came when I called, he took care of my people— our people.
And it looks like he didn’t stop there. My eyes are blurry with fatigue, but I can see something coming toward me. I ready myself to get up—
Then stagger with the impact of a body against my back. I almost lash out, but after a moment I realize this has to be Turo. He’s holding me so tightly that I can barely draw a breath. I didn’t even think he could get his arms all the way around my chest.
“You stupid, fucking— what the hell was that?” he demands hoarsely.
Uh… “That was…my god?”
“Yeah, I got that, but why did you look like you were on fire when you called on him?”
Oh, he—shit. He must have thought something bad was happening. I grimace. It was stupid of me to try a summoning without telling Turo what was happening first. “I’m sorry,” I say, and wrap one of my hands over his wrist. “That’s part of the ritual. It takes effort to call Carnuatu. He’s not always by the city like your god is.”
“Ophiucas isn’t my god,” Turo says. Before I can ask who is, his forehead thunks into the back of my shoulder. “If he was, I would pray for him to eat you for scaring the life out of me like that.”
“I really am sorry. But… I needed him.” I gesture toward the bloody ground a foot in front of us. “I couldn’t leave my people here to rot.”
“No, I understand that, I do, but…” Turo shakes his head. “Never mind.” He looks up, turning a little so that his face is almost right next to mine, then says, “Why are there two enormous rams headed this way?”
Oh, two of them? Excellent. “Carnuatu must like you,” I say.
I pat Turo’s arm one more time, then get to my feet. Sure enough, two rams are trotting toward us. A normal ram stands as high as my chest—these ones are half again taller than that and broader than two of me. Their horns have three full twists, and their coats are bright white with spots of dark gray around the shoulders and hindquarters. They’re not saddled, but they come to a graceful stop before us, then kneel down. “These are our mounts until my god decides to call them home.”
Turo’s eyes are bright, almost feverishly so. “We can catch up to Cam in a heartbeat with these,” he says.
“Not yet we can’t.”
“Kai—”
“No.” I’m not budging on this. “We have no idea where they’re going or if they’ve found more reinforcements. Cam is still a prisoner, and we’ll be even more visible on these than we would on foot. Not to mention, you ”—I push his shoulder, and he almost falls, then glares at me—“are in no condition to be riding hard and fast in any direction right now. We should at least check in with the next settlement on the road to Kamor and see if they’ve seen any of Embros’s chariots lately.”
His scowl looks like it might just become permanent at this point, but Turo knows I’m right. It takes him a moment to come to grips with it, and then he sighs and starts limping toward the overturned wagon. “I’ll salvage what I can of the supplies.”
I catch up to him immediately. “We’ll do it together.”
“Aren’t you afraid of our rides running off without us?”
I shake my head. “I’m not foolish enough to think that I’m really in control of them. If Carnuatu wants them to stay, they will. If he wants them to leave, they’ll go.”
Turo shuts his eyes. “I don’t like this.”
“I know.” Apologizing again would be meaningless, but a part of me wants to anyway. Turo’s not one of mine—not my soldier, certainly not my husband. I don’t owe him anything, and he would clearly rather run off into the Plains and die before letting me help him. I wonder how long I’ll be able to make him stay with me.
“I’m glad I’m not doing it alone, though.”
Wait. Does that mean he’ll stay with me? “Are you sure?”
“I am.” He pulls something out of the neck of his shirt, and I suddenly see a very familiar pearl resting against his palm. The silver setting is a bit tarnished, but the pearl is as lustrous as ever. “We’re both connected to Cam, even if my connection is incidental.” He rubs a thumb over the surface of the pearl. “It’s right that we go after him together.”
“It is.” If I didn’t know better, I’d clap him on the back. As it is, I nod my head toward the wagon. “Let’s get what we can and head out. We’ll find a place to sleep tonight on the Plains, and tomorrow we’ll see what we can find out about Embros and his men.” I do reach out to touch his wrist then—the same wrist I gripped when he threw himself against my back. “Cam is smarter than either of us. He’ll be all right.”
Turo shakes his head, his eyes pained. “I hope so.”
So do I.