Tethered Spirits Page 8

  “Be careful,” Valkyra warned. “She may be alone, but that doesn’t mean she’ll be unprotected. She’s bound to have a few defenses set up to ward off intruders.”

  “I know.” She reached over the fence and unhooked the latch holding the gate. It swung open with a low creak. Taking a breath, she sharpened her focus on the altma within and all around her, ready to channel it should the need arise. Then she stepped through the gate and headed for the house.

  All was silent. She tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Probably bolted shut from the inside. Valkyra would want her to use magic to unlock it, but that would take more time and finesse than Aleida had the patience for. Not when she could simply break it down.

  She pressed her hands against the door and sent a burst of altma through her palms. The blast of energy shattered the wood into dozens of splintered pieces, leaving the entrance clear.

  A horrible shrieking noise filled the air. She clamped her hands over her ears. Where was it coming from?

  A diminutive old woman appeared in front of her. Aleida readied an attack, but the distraction of the high-pitched noise had disrupted her connection to her altma. The old woman’s onslaught came faster. Shards of splintered wood rose from the ground and shot toward Aleida. She barely managed to block them with a barrier. Several fragments flew past her and through the open doorway.

  Before she could react, Tamaya threw out a hand, and a gust of air slammed into Aleida’s barrier with such force that she stumbled back. Another blast came a split second later. Aleida pushed against it. Time to go on the offensive.

  She lowered the barrier and channeled altma into her fingertips. Tamaya thrust her hand out again, but this time, there was barely enough air to ruffle Aleida’s hair. She was losing steam already.

  Aleida extended her own hands and released her magic. A blue glow filled the house as jagged tendrils of lightning passed through Tamaya’s semi-translucent form and struck the wall behind her.

  Not the real Tamaya. An illusion.

  Aleida whirled around. A dark, round shape flew at her. She managed to throw up another barrier, and the heavy kettle bounced off it to clang against the floor.

  Where had that come from?

  A pan came flying from around the corner. Aleida blocked that, too, then ran to the corner and darted into the adjacent hall.

  It was difficult to see anything in the dark. Too difficult to be natural. She sent a flash of lightning to illuminate the hall, but even that couldn’t permeate the shadows. Another illusion, maybe. Tamaya could be anywhere.

  “There,” Valkyra whispered against Aleida’s ear. “In the room to your right, where the shadows are blackest.”

  Aleida gave a slight nod but didn’t look. Not yet. Instead, she continued to glance around the hall, shooting off flashes of lightning in every direction. When she did let her gaze drift to the room, it was only briefly, but there in the far corner stood the faintest outline of a person. Tamaya. The illusory shadows were bent so expertly around her that she was all but invisible.

  Aleida looked away and continued her inspection of the hall, pretending she hadn’t seen the other Tarja. She channeled altma into her legs until her muscles tingled with power.

  Valkyra’s claws tightened around the fabric of her shirt. Aleida released the magic in a single surge and dashed into the room. She stopped just short of colliding with Tamaya and pinned the old woman’s neck against the wall with violent force. The shrieking noise immediately ceased.

  Before she could recover, Aleida threw up another barrier. This one went around Tamaya—a temporary shield of magical energy that would prevent her from using her powers, at least for as long as Aleida could maintain it. No trouble at all if she stayed focused and kept her emotions under control.

  Fear flickered in Tamaya’s dark eyes, but only for a moment. Her brow furrowed, and wrinkled skin tightened over a clenched jaw as she glowered at her captor. Her pulse pounded beneath the pressure of Aleida’s forearm, strong and steady.

  Despite all that, she still looked old and frail. Older and weaker even than the sickly neighbor woman Mama had cared for when Aleida was very young.

  We are all children of the Artist, her mother had often reminded her, and it’s our duty to look after each other.

  Her cheeks burned. Artex would not want her doing this.

  But surely Artex also wouldn't want Tyrus to die. Besides, Tamaya wasn’t as frail and helpless as she appeared.

  Aleida brought her face closer to the old woman’s. “Where are the people who were here before?”

  Tamaya’s lips curled in a sneer. “Lots of people have been here before. You’ll have to be more specific.”

  No time for riddles. Aleida gripped the woman’s wrist with her free hand and shot thin tendrils of lightning up her arm. She groaned in pain. A familiar guilt started to rise up inside Aleida, but she shoved it back down. Doing so was unnervingly easy. She was becoming too used this.

  “You know exactly who I’m talking about,” she growled. “Where did they go?”

  A slimy glob of spit landed on her cheek. Tamaya smirked with all the smug satisfaction of a cat who’d just caught a mouse.

  Aleida’s face grew warm, and her grip around Tamaya’s arm tightened. Foolish old woman. She channeled her altma into another shock. Tamaya’s entire body stiffened, and when it was over, she slumped against the wall, sinking to the floor with a faint whimper. Aleida went down with her.

  What was she doing, torturing an old woman like this? What kind of monster had she become?

  “The barrier,” Valkyra said into her ear.

  It was starting to weaken and had slipped away entirely in some places. Aleida took a breath. She could dwell on her moral quandries later. For now, she stowed away those feelings in a dark corner within herself and quickly reformed the barrier, but it wasn’t as strong as before. The sooner she could wrap this up, the better.

  Tamaya remained motionless against the wall, but her chest rose and fell in steady breaths. At last, she coughed and raised her head, her gaze defiant. “Bloodthirsty heathen.”

  Some of Aleida’s guilt died away. “Don’t talk to me about heathens,” she hissed. “It was Kavoran Tarja like you who destroyed my home and slaughtered my family. Do you think I’ll hesitate to kill you if you don’t give me the answers I need?”

  “Is that supposed to scare me?” Tamaya spat. “I’ve stood against entire armies of Tarja more powerful than you. I trained some of the best of them. It was I who taught Nandini Kumar, and I know that name means something to you.”

  On her shoulder, Valkyra’s body tensed. A chill ran through Aleida’s blood, and in that brief moment of broken concentration, her barrier fell. Tamaya seized the opportunity to make an escape. She wrenched free of Aleida’s grasp, and a metal washbasin came flying from the other side of the room. Valkyra knocked it aside before it could make contact.

  Aleida lunged at Tamaya and reformed her barrier, then sent a powerful shock through the old woman’s body. She writhed and screamed, and even as Aleida let the lightning die, she was torn between wishing she hadn’t done it and wanting to hurt Tamaya even more. This woman had mentored Nandini Kumar, a former imperial advisor said to be responsible for the invasion of Vis.

  The same invasion that had resulted in the deaths of thousands of Visans, including Aleida’s parents.

  “I ought to kill you,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “So do it. I’m not far from death anyway.”

  The stubborn defiance in her eyes was too genuine to be a bluff. Aleida took a breath to keep her frustration in check, then leaned in closer. “I can make it the slowest, most painful agony you’ve ever experienced.” She tightened her grip around the old woman’s wrist, letting the faintest shock jump between their skin.

  Tamaya flinched. “There’s no need for cruelty,” she muttered.

  “Then tell me what I want to know. The visitors you had earlier—what were they doing here?”<
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  Tamaya gnawed on her bottom lip for a few seconds, as if mulling over her options, then answered the question. “They were seeking respite after their fight with you, as I understand it. One of them was dead when they arrived on my doorstep, and alive again when they left. I expect you know that already, though, or you wouldn’t be hunting him.”

  “They were headed here before we fought. Why?”

  “They had questions.” Tamaya pursed her lips and didn’t elaborate.

  “What questions?” Aleida prodded.

  “The girl wanted to know how to break her Bond with her Spirit Tarja.”

  “I don’t care about the girl. What about the man? Amar. What did he want?”

  “His memories back, I expect. He was very confused when he returned to life this morning. I’m not sure he even really knew what he wanted.”

  Aleida frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “When he rose this morning, his physical wounds were gone, but he couldn’t remember anything. Not his name, or where he was, how he’d gotten here, or even who his friends were. They were like strangers to him. They said it happens every time he dies.”

  Another oddity about Amar’s immortality. How would that affect Tyrus once they found a way to give that same immortality to him? Perhaps Valkyra would know, but that could wait until she was finished here. “What answers did you give them?” she asked Tamaya.

  “Not many. I suspect the man’s under some kind of curse, and I don’t know anyone in Kavora who could handle a problem like that. I told them they’d be best off going to Atrea to speak to an old student of mine—Jameson Weatherford. That’s where they were headed when they left here.”

  “Where does he live exactly?”

  “Some lakeside town. The Atrean girl called it Malfram. I’d draw you a map if it would get you out of here quicker, but I expect you can find it well enough on your own.”

  Aleida’s eyes narrowed. Atrea was a big country, and a long way off. Hopefully she’d catch up to Amar and the others before then, but if not, she needed to be sure she was headed the right way. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  The muscles in Tamaya’s neck tightened. “You’ve already tortured it out of me, so I’m not sure what other proof I can give you. I have no reason to protect them. Believe me or don’t, it’s your choice.”

  “You put up quite a fight for someone who has no one to protect.”

  “I can’t defend myself and my home?” A fierce anger returned to her eyes. “You’re the one who broke in and attacked me. You’ll forgive me if I didn’t feel too cooperative after that.”

  Aleida released the old woman’s wrist but continued to channel altma into the magical barrier as she stood and backed away. Tamaya braced one hand against the wall and the other on her thigh, then slowly pushed herself up. Aleida started to reach out a helping hand—an instinct the gentle girl she used to be still remembered—but caught herself and hastily drew back. Tamaya probably wouldn’t welcome her help, anyway. Easier for both of them if she kept up her role as the violent intruder.

  “If I find out you’re lying—”

  “Oh, enough already,” Tamaya muttered. “Go on, leave an old woman in peace. You’ve done enough damage and I don’t have anything else for you.”

  Aleida exchanged a quick glance with Valkyra and strode to the open doorway. Behind her, Tamaya muttered under her breath—something about repairs and setting up better defenses. Aleida paused in the threshold and turned around. Her eyes met Tamaya’s for just a moment. The hatred there was all too familiar.

  Bloodthirsty heathen.

  She opened her mouth to apologize, then recalled what Tamaya had said about teaching Nandini Kumar and stopped herself. It was hard to feel true sympathy for anyone so directly connected to person who’d destroyed her homeland.

  She turned on her heel and walked outside, taking no care to avoid the neat little garden between the house and the gate.

  “You could have killed her,” Valkyra said as they headed back to where they’d left the horse. “It would have been understandable.”

  Aleida swallowed hard, but the tightness in her throat remained. “It wouldn’t have done any good.” She wondered, though, whether there would have been some satisfaction in it, a sense of justice being served. “Do you think she was telling the truth?”

  “I do. I’ve heard of Jameson Weatherford. He’s young, said to be a prodigy, and possibly the best Tarja Atrea has ever known.”

  Aleida nodded. “And if Amar’s immortality is a curse, can we still use it to save Tyrus?”

  “I think so. We wouldn’t be able to recreate it, but there are certain methods of transferring magic from one person or object to another. In theory, we could do the same thing with a curse.”

  In theory. Not quite the guarantee Aleida wanted, but probably the best she could hope for, given the circumstances. She channeled her altma into an orb of light around her hand to help her navigate through the trees. “What do you think it means that he can’t remember anything after he comes back to life?”

  “I’m not sure. It could be part of the curse, or maybe some unintended consequence of tampering with magic so powerful.”

  “Will that happen to Tyrus if we transfer the curse? Will he forget?”

  Valkyra brushed a soft wing against Aleida’s cheek. “I’m sorry, my dear, but I honestly don’t know. Would that stop you from saving him? If he has to forget you to keep his life, is that a price you’re willing to pay?”

  “Of course,” she replied without hesitation, but her heart squeezed painfully. Tyrus was all she had. They’d been through so much together, just the two of them against the world. If he forgot all of that—forgot her—would any of this be worth it?

  She hated herself for even thinking such a selfish thing. What did it matter if he forgot her? He would be alive, and he might return to how he’d been before his illness. He could live a long, happy life without having to worry about sickness or crippling pain ever again.

  They had been through so much together—so many horrible, painful things. Perhaps it would be better if he forgot.

  “Look,” Valkyra said, a hint of alarm in her voice. “The horse.”

  Aleida brightened her orb of light and directed it ahead. The horse lay on the ground, head drooping from the reins still tied around a tree branch. Its neck glistened with dark, wet blood. More blood ran in thin streams from wounds along its back and sides—wounds created by jagged shards of wood that had once been a door.

  Tamaya’s attack. Aleida had managed to block some of the projectiles with her barrier, but the rest had shot straight out the open doorway she’d been standing in.

  She tightened her jaw as she set about gathering her belongings from the horse’s saddlebags. Better the animal be the victim of Tamaya’s attack than her, but that didn’t make the new setback any more bearable. With the horse, she’d had a good chance of catching up to Amar and his companions quickly. Now, that was going to be much more difficult.

  She sent out a silent plea to Artex. I could really use some help, if it’s not too much to ask.

  But of course, it was too much to ask. How many times now had she gone directly against Artex’s desire for peace and goodwill by inflicting harm on others? She quickly amended her prayer. If you won’t help for my sake, then at least do it for Tyrus. He’s good and kind and still has so much to offer this world—you know that. Whatever happens to me doesn’t matter, but at least let me help him.

  She used her magic to push out some of the dirt from beneath the horse’s other side so she could reach under for her pack. It was stuck. She yanked the straps harder and fell back with a grunt when it came free.

  “Are you going to bury it?” Valkyra asked.

  Aleida stood and stared down at the dead animal. Poor thing. He’d served her so well over these last few weeks. Maybe she should bury him, but she’d wasted enough time here already. “Tamaya killed him. She can bury him herself.�
� She steeled her heart and turned away from the carcass. “Where to? I assume Amar and his friends will need supplies if they’re travelling all the way to Atrea.”

  “Yes. They’ll likely head for Valmandi first. Perhaps Sharmok after that.”

  “We’ll have to catch them before they reach the desert.” With the Sularan woman in their company, they’d have a trusted guide to take them across the inhospitable terrain rather than being forced to go around the long way. Aleida and Valkyra were not so fortunate.

  But it didn’t matter. She would catch up to them before they reached the desert. She had to. And the next time she faced them, there would be no mistakes.

  11

  Amar

  Amar woke at dawn the morning after they’d left Tamaya’s, startled out of sleep by a dream he could only recall the end of. He’d been running from something, or maybe toward something. Something he couldn’t see. He hadn’t made it far, almost as if he’d been held back by invisible chains. The feeling still lingered, accompanied by a sense of dread and powerlessness.

  He pushed himself up and rubbed at his eyes. Saya sat on a nearby rock with her back to him. The forest wasn’t quite as dense on this stretch of road, and her long hair shone in the peachy glow of sunrise. “You’re awake,” she said without turning around.

  “I can go back to sleep if you’d like,” he replied.

  She stood and stretched her arms. “No. We should wake the others and get going. I still worry about that Visan woman being so close on our trail.”

  She went to shake Mitul, leaving Amar to wake Kesari. The girl had pulled one arm free of her coat to drape it over her body like a blanket. Her brows were creased, and her jaw was tight. Maybe her dreams were troubled, too.

  “Kesari,” he said, touching her shoulder. “Kesari, wake up.”