Healed by Hope (19 page)

50

“IT STILL ITCHES.”

“You’re just whining. I told you I got rid of him. You’ve probably just got some sand beneath your scales.”

“A cactus is more like it. I want to land somewhere and lick it out.”

“You’ll do no such thing! We have a long way to go.”

“Why are we in such a hurry? Who could possibly follow us?”

“I don’t trust the Death-Knower. He’ll figure out some way to cause trouble.”

“Now who’s whining?”

“Be quiet!”

Vedana enjoyed a brief moment of silence, but then the dragon started up again. “I’m hungry.”

“If you’re hungry, then keep flying. Where we’re going, there’ll be plenty of food for you. Big, juicy mammoths.”

“I’m hungry
now
.”

“Quit
complaining
!”

“When we get there, don’t even think about asking me to babysit.”

“That’s the least of your worries. No one touches him but me.”

“Good! I don’t
want
to touch him.”

“You’d better be careful. I know this might sound strange, but I think he already understands some of what’s being said. If not for the amulet, he might have scorched you already.”

“You’re scaring me, Vedana.”

“Good. You should be scared.”

Cold reality

51

FOR LONGER THAN she could remember, Laylah had been trapped in a continuous nightmare. Her dreams were dark and fraught with despair. But when the birth began, Laylah returned to consciousness. The boy in her belly became more intent on escaping its human prison than on controlling her mind. As the overlarge baby tore free of her womb, Laylah expected to experience pain beyond measure. But the sedative powers of Torg’s healing magic made the birth less painful than she would have imagined—and when the child finally spilled from her there was no residual pain at all, only a short-lived exhaustion.

When the dune began to tremble, she became confused. But it didn’t take long for her to figure out what was about to happen. She could smell her grandmother’s foul scent.

“Torg . . . let me down,” she said, her voice weak and raspy despite her best efforts to shout. “Vedana is coming . . . for
him!
”

It wasn’t concern for her son that drove her. Instead, it was fear that Vedana might gain control of such a potentially dangerous being.

“She can’t get to us,” Torg said with uncharacteristic naiveté. Then he came forward and grabbed her ankles. His warm hands felt good . . . again.

As quickly as she could manage, Laylah dropped to the sand on hands and knees and attempted to grab the boy. “Someone help . . . s
omeone
help. She’s coming . . . They’re coming.” But it was too late for anyone to stop it. From Vedana’s horrid realm, a window already had opened—and when the dragon emerged from it, Laylah and the others were blown aside.

Laylah tumbled halfway down the side of the dune. She was not harmed and could have stood, but the realization that her child was indeed the monster she had feared he would become left her dazed.

The
eyes
 . . . so familiar. So like her brother’s.

Invictus had been a god. But was he so strong that he was capable of orchestrating his own rebirth?

The magical dome that had encased the dune dimmed and then winked out. Though the moon remained huge and bright, the desert seemed cast in darkness.

“We have to follow,” she said to Torg as a Tugar handed her a black jacket and breeches to cover her naked body.

“Laylah, you’re in no condition for such a journey. You need rest. Maybe in a few days . . .”

“Torg! We don’t have a few days. Vedana has him. Unless we can find them soon, there’ll be no rest for any of us.”

“He’s Invictus’s son, I know, but he’s also just a baby. Surely there’s time.”

“No!”
she shouted, with enough vehemence to cause even Torg to stagger. “We must find them
now
.”

Torg sighed. “It’s not possible. They were with a great dragon—and they fled into Vedana’s realm. Already they are out of reach. They could be anywhere.”

As if in response to his words, there was a swooshing sound in the air above them and then a loud flapping of wings. Sakuna lighted beside them and immediately transformed to Jord.

Jord’s wide eyes glowed like green lanterns. Rather than speak directly to Torg, she approached Laylah and stood face to face with her. “I can take you to the demon,” Jord said. “The
Vijjaadharaa
have left a trail for me to follow.”

“You say that as if you knew in advance that this would happen,” Laylah said. “Why else would they leave a trail?”

“Much is at stake,” was Jord’s only answer.

Torg interrupted. “Laylah . . . Jord and I will go after them. This journey will be too difficult for you. During the birth, I did much to heal you, but magical healing is hard on the body. If you attempt too much too soon, you could damage yourself further.”

Laylah swung her gaze to Torg. “You have many amazing qualities, but your need to shelter me isn’t one of them. This was no ordinary birth. And you have underestimated your healing powers. Already my strength has returned. It is almost as if the birth never happened.” Then: “You and I must do this together—or not at all.”

A Tugar stepped forward. Laylah recognized him as an Asēkha, though she had never seen him before.

“
Lord Torgon
, the baby is gone, of that we know. But both the desert girl and the enchanter are also missing. What would you have us do?”

Torg clasped forearms with the Asēkha. “Aya, the queen and I must depart. I know not when we will return. Await the arrival of Chieftain-Podhana and the rest of the Tugars, and then raise the Simōōn.”

“May I not accompany you, lord?” Aya said. “Surely you could use my assistance.”

Torg gestured toward Jord. “Despite her magic, she can carry only so many.”

Laylah stepped forward and also clasped forearms with Aya, surprising the Asēkha. “There is nothing you can do for us now. We will return, if we are able.”

Aya nodded and then bowed. “As you command, my queen.”

“Time is short,” Jord said, and then she transformed to Sakuna and bade Torg and Laylah to mount her. Before doing so, Torg handed Laylah his ivory staff.

“You and Obhasa seem destined to be together,” Torg said. “Come . . . a final task awaits us.”

“Ema
 . . .
Ema . . .”
she whispered. And then they mounted the eagle and sprang into the moonlit sky.

52

IT TOOK YAMA-DEVA almost four days to cross the eastern stem of the Y-shaped Mahaggatan range north of Gamana. First, he passed through the foothills of Mount Asubha, and there he stopped and gazed upward at the broken peak of the mountain prison. But the upper portion of Asubha was shrouded in stormy mist, and he could see little more than a few circling specks, probably condors or maybe even a Sampati. Just as well. The mountain harbored evil memories that were better left unexplored.

Though he had spent time on Asubha’s summit when he was Invictus’s slave, Deva had never wandered anywhere else among the northern peaks of Mahaggata. These mountains were as high and mighty as the greatest of Okkanti, but for the most part they were not as sheer or jagged, being older and more seasoned. The lower regions were heavily forested and artfully laced with ponds, streams, and waterfalls. And though he was farther north than his homeland, it did not feel as cold here as it did in Okkanti. In fact, the hills and valleys encased by the taller mountains were uncomfortably warm, at least to a snow giant, and he found himself drinking enormous amounts of water and eating all the wild greens and roots he could forage. Even then, he moved far faster than most beings could have managed, averaging twenty leagues a day despite the difficult terrain.

Deva spent large portions of the journey attempting to discern exactly what it was that drove him toward Nirodha. Try as he might, he could not discover any answers, but this did not stop him from continuing toward his destination, wherever and whatever that might be.

Gradually, it became cold even in the lower elevations. Around noon of a nameless day, he entered a deep valley split by a narrow river and bordered by banks of crumbled stone. Deva waded across the river. The blue water was barely up to his waist, though it was frigid even to him.

A dozen or so white wolves watched him from a distance, curious but wary. They were smaller than black mountain wolves and no match for a snow giant, even if they had been a hundred times their number. Deva sat down cross-legged on top of a boulder coated with green lichen, and he gazed at the wolves with a broad smile on his face, their grace and beauty enamoring him. He waved the stub of his left forearm at them, as if to introduce himself. When they finally passed out of view, he felt sad.

To the northwest rose a tightly packed wall of mountains that was greater than any he had yet encountered. Each was as tall and as menacing as Asubha. The bulwarks of Nissaya were mere trifles in comparison.

Nirodha lay beyond.

Deva began to climb. At first the going was easy, but he eventually encountered cliffs that rivaled those more commonly found in Okkanti. Without the use of two hands, he struggled, and by the time he reached the upper heights and crossed through the mountains on a high pass, it was almost midnight, and the moon was full overhead. A frozen wind blasted his face, causing his eyes to water. Apparently, spring held no sway over this foreign land.

To the northwest the sky was filled with flashing lights that emanated from a blazing corona. Filaments and streamers leapt outward like multicolored bolts of lightning. Deva stood in amazement and gazed at the vastness of Nirodha. It was so beautifully empty it almost made him want to give up his quest and continue to live. Yet a larger part of him knew that he could not. The compulsion was too profound.

The climb down was easier. Deva was able to leap from ledge to ledge, sometimes falling several hundred cubits, yet landing with the grace of a cat. Nirodha lay before him like a magnificent white valley. A series of rolling foothills ended quickly, and afterward, the frozen wasteland became as flat as the Gray Plains.

The ancient snow was hard and crunchy. From what little he knew of Nirodha, it was as dry here as a desert. But the snow did not melt, and a sheet of ice more than a league thick covered most of the vast glacier, which extended from the Y-shaped head of Mahaggata all the way to the western shore of the Ice Ocean.

Millennia ago, humans used to trek into the foothills of Okkanti, and Deva would converse with them. A few spoke of expeditions in Nirodha, where they had hunted blubbery creatures they called elephant-seals. In turn, white bears twice as large as mountain wolves had hunted the men. There also were several species of sea birds, including some that swam like fish in the oceans beyond the glacier but did not fly. The humans left these birds alone because their flesh tasted terrible. In Deva’s mind all flesh tasted terrible—but not in Mala’s.

Yet another reason to desire death.

Once he was away from the wall of mountains, it quickly became very windy. Ordinary humans, if not clad in heavy clothing, would have perished before morning, but this did not affect Deva. No level of cold—at least within the confines of this world—could cause him much discomfort. He trudged forward through the angry darkness without cessation, using the swirling lights in the northern sky as his beacon.

It will not be long now,
he thought.
Soon I will find what I am after.

Whatever creatures he encountered fled before him.

Including the bears.

He was Yama-Deva, greatest of all the snow giants.

But he also was Mala. And what could be more frightening than that?

53

VEDANA’S SUSPICIONS grew. Had Peta played a little trick on her before departing this world? The ghost-child had told her that Invictus’s son would be easy to control, especially if she took him to a place where it was cold. But soon after kidnapping the child, Vedana found that he was anything but docile. Instead, he seemed feisty and dangerous, a sort of miniature Invictus. The physical damage the boy had incurred during his death in Laylah’s womb was supposed to have left him pliable and compliant. Yet he had twice tried to scorch her: once while inside her own realm, the second time when they re-emerged into the Realm of Life. Vedana had been forced to use the amulet far sooner than she had wanted, though perhaps it was for the best. Better to blunt his resistance right from the start than to allow him to build confidence. He was
Akanittha
(the highest power), of that there was no doubt, but was he her pawn?

If not, she would have to kill him. As much as she wanted to be freed from purgatory, Vedana knew it would be preferable to keep things as is rather than have another Sun God with an independent mind on the loose.

The amulet had worked. Even she hadn’t been sure that it would. Used against Invictus when he was fully grown, it would have been a trifle. But against his infant son, it had done the trick. As soon as Vedana had tied it to his neck, the boy had quieted down and behaved.

Still . . . there was something not quite right.

The look in his eyes.

The set of his lips.

The certainty of his gaze.

It reminded her, disconcertingly, of Invictus.

Like father, like son?

But
too much
like father?

Sovaōōa clearly had been uncomfortable in the boy’s presence. When the great dragon finally had landed in the heart of Nirodha and deposited Vedana and the boy on the cold ice, she then had departed quickly.

“They call Nirodha a wasteland, but it is anything but,” Sovaōōa said, attempting to sound unperturbed by the child. “There’s a lot to eat here, and I’m starving. After I’ve fed, I’ll return to see how the two of you are doing.”

“You do that,” Vedana snarled. “Otherwise the two of us will return to see how
you
are doing.”

Sovaōōa hadn’t liked the sound of that—and she had sprung away in a huff, leaving Vedana alone with the newborn Sun God. Vedana, usually the one who terrorized others, hated to admit that the boy made her . . . nervous. She didn’t like the way the newborn looked at her, as if he knew her and it amused him. Plus, he did not appear the least bit cold or uncomfortable, despite being naked. And another thing. The boy had eaten nothing since his violent birth, yet he was . . .
growing
.

It was time to begin training the boy, and the best way to train human children was to make them sit still. Using her magic, Vedana constructed a pair of thrones made of snow and ice, hers purposely taller and broader than the boy’s. She placed him upon the smaller throne and then sat upon her own. It was nearly morning, and the full moon was descending toward the western horizon, as if yet another companion was deserting her. Being a creature of darkness, Vedana did not fear the night. Nonetheless, she found herself craving the approach of dawn. In the sunlight, maybe there would be something for her physical incarnation to see other than the boy’s sinister grin. At this point she wouldn’t even mind looking at one of those weird wingless birds.

When dawn arrived, there was no sign of Sovaōōa. Vedana began to wonder if the golden dragon had deserted her and fled to some faraway place. Vedana knew she could find Sovaōōa no matter where she hid, but it might be time-consuming and annoying. Besides, she already had her hands full with the boy. The last thing she needed was more problems.

And at the moment, Vedana felt uncharacteristically in need of . . . a friend.

All right, there was no use denying it. The boy spooked her. For instance, he sat upright on his throne with his head held high. The muscles of his neck should not have been that strong. Plus he never cried . . . for food or solace. He just sat and stared—and every once in a while, reached gingerly for the amulet that pressed against his throat, cringing less and less when it glowed angrily to punish him for daring to touch it with his fingers. It was as if he was testing the ancient magic, believing that it would not be long before he could defeat it. As far as Vedana was concerned, this was not good news. How could she train the boy if he didn’t fear her?

Already she could feel her millennia-long plans unraveling. Peta had told her he would be compliant! Had the little bitch dared to lie? Or had she simply been wrong? Not even the ghost-child was perfect.

At midmorning, Sovaōōa returned. Vedana had never been so happy to see anyone or anything. The titanic dragon had something in her mouth, and she landed just a stone’s throw from the boy and deposited a large cow bloated with milk.

“I
borrowed
this from some farmers making their way toward the markets of Kamupadana,” Sovaōōa said.

“I thought you were hunting for mammoths,” Vedana said, again distrustful.

“I was only trying to help,” the dragon said. “Even a Sun God needs food. And for your information, I did eat a mammoth. Just look at my stomach.”

Sovaōōa’s stomach did look swollen, even if it already had been as thick as a building. Still, Vedana didn’t want to give the dragon too much credit. “Well, what should I do with the cow? Did you bring—what do they use?—a skin for the baby to suck on?”

“You expect me to do everything? Can’t you blip somewhere, grab one, and blip back?”

Vedana walked forward and gestured for the dragon to lower her enormous snout. Then she whispered, “I don’t dare leave him, even for a moment. There’s something
wrong
.”

Then Vedana yelped. The boy had stridden beside her as confidently as a ten-year-old. And he was damn near as big as one. He smiled at her and then went to the cow, dropped to his knees, and began to suckle a teat. The stunned beast stood motionless and permitted the human to feed.

“You’re right, he was hungry,” Vedana said.

Sovaōōa shrugged her titanic shoulders. “What do you want me to do now?”

“Stay here and help.”

“Help? How?”

“Stay . . . watch . . . talk to me . . .”

“Vedana, if I didn’t know better, I might think you’re frightened.”

Vedana looked at the boy, who suckled so violently that blood was mixing with the milk. The cow groaned.

“I’m just off to a slow start,” Vedana whispered. “I need some . . . suggestions.”

“Suggestions?”

“Yes! You know. Hints? Ideas? You’ve lived for damn near as long as I have. Haven’t you learned anything useful in all that time?”

“Yes. I learned that humans did as they were told or I killed them. I learned to fear Bhayatupa and not much else. That little
thing
over there weighs less than one of my scales . . .”

“Shhhhhhh!”

“Vedana, this is not like you. What’s going on?”

“Don’t say anything to upset him.”

Finally the boy finished his meal and let out a spirited burp. Cherry-colored milk oozed from the corners of his mouth. Then he smiled, stood gracefully, and returned to the throne. Soon after, the cow collapsed and breathed its last.

Sovaōōa sniffed it and then recoiled. “It stinks like carrion!”

The boy laughed, startling both Vedana and the dragon.

Sovaōōa cringed. “I think you made the right decision to get that amulet.”

Vedana also cringed. “You were around Invictus more than a few times,” she whispered. “After all, he forced you to breed with the condors.”

Sovaōōa growled. “And nothing could have been more disgusting.”

“When it came to Invictus’s tastes, what you did for him only scratched the surface of disgusting,” Vedana said. “But look at the boy’s face. Is not the resemblance uncanny?”

The dragon lowered her snout so that it was just a span from Vedana’s physically incarnated ear. “Vedana,” the dragon whispered, “we are talking about Invictus’s son. It would be troublesome if they did
not
look alike.”

The boy continued to watch them with his sparkling brown eyes.

“That’s not what I mean,” Vedana said. “It’s not just a physical resemblance. The way he walks. The way he smiles. The way he
breathes
. As I said before, something is wrong. Is it possible that Peta betrayed me? That she knew all along that I would be unable to control the boy?”

“If so, you and I should go far away . . . fast!”

“There is no place far enough.”

Suddenly Sovaōōa froze. Then she raised her head high in the air—and sniffed. “Vedana, something approaches from the south.”

Harsh laughter erupted from below. The boy pointed at one of the dragon’s scales. For the first time, he spoke intelligible words—his voice shrill. “Yes . . .
yes
 . . .”

A tendril of yellow light erupted from his finger and struck the scale. There was a muffled shout, and then a little girl emerged and fell at least ten cubits, spilling awkwardly onto the ice. By chance, the snow was more fluffy than usual, providing enough of a cushion to spare her life.

The dragon sprang into the air.

But Vedana hardly noticed any of this. All she could think about was the boy.

Invictus’s son had used magic.

And the amulet had lacked the might to stop him.