Blinded by Power: 5 (The Death Wizard Chronicles) (43 page)

“So do I,” Tew said, his palms still oozing blood. “And I’m not so sure I like it one bit.”

PODHANA WATCHED Deva spring away. The snow giant moved at such a ridiculous speed, it was useless to attempt to follow. Bhojja herself would have been hard-pressed. Mala was no longer, but Deva presented his own set of problems. The new chieftain of the Asēkhas sighed and then turned to the others.

“Nissaya is secure. But as long as the Sun God lives, the world is not. Torg is no longer with us. Neither is Kusala nor Tāseti. So it falls upon me to decide the fate of what remains of the Tugars.” He took a deep breath and then spoke in a bold voice. “Twenty Tugars shall be sent to Anna. When they arrive, they shall order those who have remained in the Tent City to withdraw into the hidden heart of Tējo.

“The rest of us shall march on Avici and wreak what havoc we can. As for the black knights of Nissaya, I have no commands. But I would suggest, politely, that you remain at the fortress and defend it the best you can.”

“It will be as you say,” a Nissayan captain proclaimed. “But it will be dire to view your departure.”

“These days, all things are dire,” Podhana agreed. Then he shouted in a booming voice: “Come,
Kantaara Yodhas
! We shall run like we have never run before. We are not snow giants, but neither are we snails. To Avici we go, showing no mercy to any who stand in our way.”

Then they did run: through the shattered entrances of the three great bulwarks, over and around the broken crumbles of Iddhi-Pada, mile upon mile, league upon league. No two-legged creatures, other than the snow giants themselves, had ever run so far so fast. What had taken Mala’s army days to traverse, the Tugars journeyed in half a day. By midnight, they approached the border of Java, having traveled more than twenty leagues. But as impressive as that feat was, by then something greater had occurred. Their king had paid Podhana and the Tugars a visit—before departing on the back of the jade mare, taking Obhasa with him.

The Torgon
was alive!

Now filled with hope and joy, Podhana and the Tugars continued onward, skirting Java to the west and finally regaining Iddhi-Pada on the forest’s northeastern border. Their mission felt even more urgent than before. Torg also was on his way to Avici, but the Death-Knower rode Bhojja and would not tarry.

Before reaching Avici, they encountered friends. The Pabbajja had set their sights on the Golden City, as well.

“Fifty score wish to join you,” Bruugash said to Podhana. “The snow giant already passed this way and made it clear that he did not require our assistance. But we are formidable in our own right. What say you?”

“I watched as your people battled Mala at the feet of Nissaya. In the eyes of the Tugars, the Homeless People now rank among the greats. Come, Bruugash! Let us march to the gates of Avici, where we shall fight together at the foot of doom.”

DESPITE HIS SORROW over the terrible loss of Rathburt and his many dear friends, Elu couldn’t help but feel some joy. If nothing else, being large and strong was a relief, as if he’d finally emerged from a cramped cave into an open valley. Ugga’s transformation wasn’t all bad, either. The former crossbreed did not seem the least bit unhappy. Perhaps shedding the responsibilities that came with being human wasn’t an entirely negative thing.

Now Elu and the bear walked along Iddhi-Pada with the ghost-child, whose apparent blindness played no hindrance to her ability to navigate. Not that the road would be difficult for anyone to follow, but Peta seemed to know the location of every pothole and also the best places to eat and rest—to the point of it being downright eerie.

In addition, Peta was unerringly good-natured and talkative. Though Elu now was sterner and more taciturn than he had been before, he still found himself embracing her gregarious nature. The trio had been walking together for two days before the Svakaran warrior was able to pinpoint what it was that was generating Peta’s optimism. The beautiful ghost-child was enjoying the tactile beauties of the world more than a person with sight could imagine.

She could walk fast too, and for extremely long distances without rest. The Svakaran admired her. For many years, he too had been forced to compensate for lack of stature, jogging while others walked and sprinting while others jogged. But being smaller than someone didn’t necessarily mean you were weaker. Certainly Peta was anything but feeble.

One night it rained with extraordinary vehemence. The strange thing was, even before the sky darkened, Peta had known. Though most of the interior of the Gap of Gati was little more than stunted grass, the ghost-child had led Elu and Ugga to a ring of spear-shaped stones rising unexpectedly from the terrain. The out-of-place shelter kept them dry through the worse of the tempest, and the Svakaran slept wonderfully as the rain thump-thumped on the rock. With the innocence of a child, Peta pressed against him.

At midafternoon of the following day, the trio reached Nissaya.

Peta led the way, striding through the broken gates without trepidation. Her foresight told her they were safe, and Elu trusted her. So too did Ugga, who pranced about like a horse and sniffed around like a dog. If the crossbreed was upset that he was no longer human, his behavior did not show it.

Black knights met them. They were cautious at first but quickly transformed to ebullient. It was clear to both sides that they were friends.

“Tell them, Elu,” Peta said.

The Svakaran nodded. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a request of you. Please bring all the
Maōi
that can be found within your walls and place it on the battlements of Balak, Ott, and Hakam.”

“Would you be so kind as to tell us why?” a captain said.

“I cannot
 . . .
for I know naught myself,” Elu said. “Only that it should be so.”

The captain nodded. “Our king is dead, our queen is missing, and the Asēkhas and Tugars have left us to our own devices. It falls to a man, a girl, and a bear to command us. These are indeed strange times.”

“This is no ordinary man or bear,” Peta said boldly. “And I am no ordinary girl.”

The captain nodded again, as if he sensed the truth in her words. Without further debate, the black knights began the tedious process of carrying out the Svakaran’s request.

AS INVICTUS MADE his way to one of the wire cages that rose hundreds of cubits to Laylah’s bed chamber, a Mogol rushed over and flung himself onto the stone floor at the sorcerer’s feet.

“My liege
 . . .
we have a problem.”

“
Tccch
! What now?”

“The tower is under attack.”

Invictus snickered. “Is that all? I thought you meant a
real
problem. Well, you know what to do. Open the palisade and unleash the fiends—but just some of them, not all. They are so difficult to corral once they start wandering.”

“It will be as you say, my liege.” Then the Mogol rushed off to perform his task, knowing too well the price of failure.

“Yes, it will,” Invictus called after him and then snickered again.

A part of him wanted to rush outside and join the festivities. He would very much enjoy watching the fiends have a feast. He loved them, after all. It had been no simple task to arrange for half a million people to drink from
undine
-infested water. Every golden soldier and Mogol who had remained in Avici, plus most of the population of Kilesa, had been needed to complete the task, and even then it had taken several days to herd all of the former citizens of Avici within the palisade that surrounded Uccheda. If not for his considerable powers, it would have been an impossible feat for one hundred times their number.

The fiends he had encountered at Senasana had aggravated him, but now that he had created his own army out of his former worshippers, Invictus found them endearing. Still, he resisted the urge to join the slaughter.

Now it was time for his thrice-daily check on Laylah to make sure she was well-fed and healthy. His sister carried his son in her belly, the heir to
Akanittha
, and it was his duty to ensure that no harm came to her body. As for her mind, Laylah seemed to have adapted far better than he’d expected. She was almost never contrary. Perhaps motherhood would suit her.

The wire cage carried him to near the top of the tower, and he strolled unannounced down the hallway past the guards and into Laylah’s room. His sister was sitting up in bed, with Bhacca standing over her. When Invictus came forward, Laylah’s eyes opened wide, as if he had caught her and the newborn corpse talking behind his back. But he was just being paranoid. Bhacca was no more capable of gossip than one of his Avician fiends.

“Dear sister, how are you this morning?” he said, trying to sound charming. A part of him expected that this would be the moment when Laylah reverted to her former surliness.

Instead, she said, “I feel wonderful. It must be the medicines that Bhacca brings with my food. I’ve been sleeping a lot, but that’s not a bad thing, right?”

“What do my doctors say?”

“They seem quite pleased,” said Laylah, her smile suspiciously sweet.

“If they’re pleased, I’m pleased,” Invictus said, not quite trusting her good nature but unable to uncover anything overtly sinister.

When Invictus left Laylah, he felt discomforted. Ever since his sister had become pregnant, she had accepted her circumstances without complaint. Part of this abrupt change, at least, he could understand. But though she was still a prisoner, she seemed almost pleased.

Perhaps he should keep a closer watch. It had been quite some time since he had used the scrying basin in his upper chambers to spy on someone. Starting tomorrow, he would have to resume his activities.

Just to keep a better eye on her.

THOUGH THE RAIN had no desire to relent, Jord suddenly awakened and stood with renewed enthusiasm. Instantly, she transformed to Bhojja and encouraged Torg to mount her. Then the great mare shot eastward as fast as a ball of pitch flung from a trebuchet. In a short time, they left behind Nissaya and thundered toward Java, the miles passing underfoot in a blur.

A few leagues southwest of the forest they came upon a company of Tugars led by Podhana, who had assumed the rank of chieftain now that Kusala and Tāseti were no longer. Podhana always had been the most dependable of the Asēkhas, treading the middle path between the extremes of emotion. The new chieftain had handed Obhasa to Torg, then bowed so low that his nose touched the gray grass.

Torg bade him to rise. “
Tumhe na koci puujetha
(You bow to no one).”

Torg had missed Obhasa almost as much as his human friends. The staff quivered and thrummed as if it had missed him too. The Death Energy that flowed within the fibrous ivory surged into Torg’s palm and filled him with strength. He hugged it against his chest like a beloved pet. None who watched seemed to find this unusual. The Tugars also loved Obhasa. The staff was a symbol of the greatness of their king.

During Torg’s brief meeting with the chieftain, Bhojja had behaved with uncharacteristic restlessness, snorting and stomping her hooves. Something momentous was about to occur. And the great mare knew it.

The two of them left the Tugars and continued on their journey. Through the rest of the night and on into the day, Bhojja galloped without rest, at one point crossing over a bridge that spanned the Ogha. Then she veered away from the shortest route to Avici, instead heading northeastward into the Gray Plains.

Torg leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “Lady, where do you carry me now?”

Bhojja’s only response was to continue to gallop. In the midafternoon she finally stopped by a small pond and drank her fill. Then she transformed to Jord and demanded that Torg eat from his pack.

“Tonight, you will need your strength like never before,” she scolded. “Our plan must not fail just because you lack the energy to carry out your role.”

“Tell me what my role is, and I’ll eat everything in sight,” Torg responded.

Jord grunted. “When the time comes, you will be informed.”

“Or so you say.”

But he did eat. And drink. And then sleep.