Illusion (35 page)

When she landed she thought she’d gone blind. It was pitch-black, but the moon glinted off something green below. She knelt like a supplicant on the aerie where she’d been taken, panting and covered in perspiration and glass, her journal gripped tight in her white hand.

“My name is Maya.” She patted her sweat-slicked body down, checked to see if she’d returned with everything intact. Her chest was tight and she rolled a shoulder to ease the pain. Damn. No way would she hyperventilate or have a heart attack. In. Out. In. Out. She’d done it. Stabbed her father with his own image, made him vulnerable to his own portal. Her knees were suspiciously weak, the effects of adrenaline wearing off.

“Back to Mithra, asshole.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Perhaps the children would find solace now they’d been released. It didn’t take back what she’d done, wasn’t even close to making reparation, but still, there was a glimmer of something inside she might have called pride.

There was a hint of ozone in the air and her lids flew open. Her hand was a sickening mess of meat at her side; hurt so bad she couldn’t feel her fingers. The air in front of her split apart with a hiss to form a darker black shadow. She backed away as a rock flew out of the tunnel and thudded to her feet. The portal closed with a snap. The Soulbearer lay like a blow on the ground.

Relief was a hot burn behind her eyeballs.

As a message from Besmelo it was a good one, conjure the Circle of Eight, then return for judgment. She laughed, but there was an edge of hysteria to it. She’d done it. Released all those souls she’d trapped centuries ago, diminishing Molokh’s powers enough for Besmelo to drag the demon back to Mithra. Her throat ached with suppressed emotion. Because after everything, she still hadn’t saved Jane.

Circles and Roundabouts

The moon was a massive orb in the sky, the air moist and redolent with marsh gas, when the portal door flung open, startling Maya.

A white-haired woman stepped out, a familiar mage on her heels.

Magister Oxyhiayal.
Maya felt the blood drain out of her face. She backed away into the mouth of the cave.

“You should have bargained with me back on Earth,” Oxyhiayal said in his low rasp. His full black lips twisted. “We might have stopped this.”

“You wouldn’t have helped her, and you know it.” The old woman stepped closer. Her face was curiously free of lines, but her eyes gave her age away.

“Who are you?” Maya said.

“Indira, Priestess of Tau, of the Sect of Aeaea, lands of Tau.” Her voice was steel and ice, commanding.

Maya felt the familiar shiver in her back, as if she was going to disappear, but this time she resisted the inward pull. Now that she knew how to transform, she wouldn’t show her hand unless she had to. She nodded in acknowledgment.

“Where’s Resh?”

“Healing,” the priestess said, walking toward her.

“What do we have here?” Oxyhiayal picked up the Soulbearer still rocking in the middle of the plateau. It now flickered with green and red lights and buzzed slightly. Maya reached out, but he tossed the crystal to Indira, who threw it high as if it burned her hand. The stone hovered in midair, a foot from Indira’s face, and whirled.

“The Soulbearer carries a life within.” She stared at the glowing crystal. “Something from the Abyss, Pidray?”

Maya identified a white face and black hair inside the quartz, and knew it carried Jane. She stepped forward and plucked the Soulbearer from midair. She fumbled with the warm crystal and placed it carefully inside her backpack, along with the journal.

“Perhaps,” she said with a casual tone. “Are you the head of the coven?”

Indira frowned. “Don’t question witches so bluntly, Pidray,” she warned. “We’d rather you come to your own conclusions. It’s a rare treat to have one such as you visit, even if we might have chosen a better time.” She nodded at a mass of low prickly bush near the ocean, several miles in the distance. “Plenty to be observed back there.” Then: “We invite you to participate in the rites of Sauin. Tonight is your rising.”

“I see,” said Maya, and she did understand. The witch was acknowledging who and what she was.

There was a faint rumble of thunder and a red mushroom exploded to the south. The wind carried the smell of smoke and death. “Balkaith has fallen,” Indira said.

A high-pitched screech echoed across the valley, and like a huge roiling cloud, a wave of black moved across the sky.

“But Molokh is behind Mithra,” Maya said, feeling cold inside.

Thousands of Khereb crossed the sun, a smothering darkness that swept toward Tau.

“They’ll carry his charge to the end. Death spreads. For three nights you have been missing. The tide of war turned against the races of the Empire. Fields of corpses lie across the countryside between Nephthys and Balkaith. The enemy is at the gates of Nephthys. Khereb are the last words of despair and loss while you are our hope,” the priestess said.

“Once they’re finished here, they’ll come to Earth.” Oxyhiayal gripped her elbow and nodded to the portal. “Shall we?”

* * * *

The portal opened in a large clearing surrounded by trees. Moist air drifted through the forest along with the screech of some animal.

“I saw what you could do in the mirror,” Oxyhiayal said. “Who would have thought you’d reincarnate in my generation.” He scanned Maya’s body, his kohl-rimmed eyes hooded and dark. “Our Houses are at war and I hope you’ll return to Earth once we’ve finished this. The warlocks will never accept a child of Molokh.”

In the midst of silence, Maya touched the satchel dangling at her hip.

“Tau doesn’t blindly follow Tribune sanctions or their conventions,” Indira said. “We have our own laws and welcome any daughter of power. The blame for this resides solely on magi and warlock stupidity. Old resentments helped Molokh enter the realms.”

“Earth…” Maya’s hand slid down to touch the
kila
that had followed her back from the Abyss.

“Is divided. Some are with Molokh; others revolt against their House.” Oxyhiayal made an openhanded gesture.

“And what’s in it for you, Magister?”

He laughed, but it held no humor. “Anu must not win. What would Earth be like under Molokh’s governance?”

She had nothing to say to that. After all, the magi had ruined Earth for less.

* * * *

“You sent Molokh back to Mithra?” Resh sounded incredulous. The sky was still black outside, the room lit with candles that softened the harsh lines on his face. He wore a low-slung pair of leather trousers and nothing else. The scratches on his chest were healing rapidly. Even now, they were thick red lines of scar tissue instead of the open wounds she’d first seen when coming through the door.

Her face stiffened in resentment. “With Besmelo’s help. Did you think I’d leave the Empire here to rot?”

“Of course not. It’s just…” He rubbed his hands over his face. “He might have destroyed you.”

“I’m stronger than you think.”

He sighed and finally looked into her eyes. “I can see that.”

She softened, realizing what this was all about. She walked over to where he was sitting on a rococo stool in an open-walled bedroom. Sheer linen curtains waved in an incense-laden breeze.

“I was prepared to take the risk. Does it bother you so much?” Apprehension churned in her stomach and she wanted to groan in frustration. He needed to be honest with her, tell her he knew what she was capable of and accept it. Accept her. The ground beneath her feet felt unstable, too rocky for her to bridge the gap between them. He’d said he didn’t care what she was, but now she’d forced him into a corner. Despite her apprehension and Resh’s discomfort, they needed to have this out.

He took a drink from a wooden cup engraved with the familiar snake emblem celebrated by the Empire.

“You know by now that I love you more than my own life. I would die for you, no question. But it’s hard to accept that you take such risks.” He smacked the cup back onto the table next to his chair. “Once this is over, will you stay or go?” He reached out and put a finger on her lips. “Don’t tell me now. Tomorrow you might change your mind and I couldn’t live with that.”

She wanted to smack him over the head with the book he’d been reading when she’d come into the room.

“I’m not going to—” What was she saying? Had she really thought about the consequences of loving Resh? A human girl would ask questions, pump him for answers so it would all be made better, easier somehow. But she’d always been awkward with relationships, laughing things off rather than digging deep into the murky waters of emotion. What did she know about love—or commitment, for that matter? Her only friend was in a crystal and she couldn’t help her. Another woman might give advice, but she knew few here. An awkward silence opened up between them. Where would they live? In the Empire, or would he return to Earth with her? Would either of them really fit into the other’s home world? The questions piled up, a great moldering stack of them.

“What aren’t you going to do?” His voice was soft and he brushed her cheek with his fingers, trailing them down and cupping her jaw. A shiver rolled over her skin and she rubbed her face against his hand. “If you want me, there will be no keeping us apart. But we have to get rid of the Khereb first. And then there’s Besmelo. Just a few things to overcome.” His lips curved into a crooked version of his usual confident grin.

The wonderful scents of sandalwood incense and male sweat washed through her senses. He smelled like home. Who cared where they lived as long as he stayed with her, loved her like he said he did? The words stuck in her throat, even though they wanted to spill out in a torrent. She rubbed against his hand, enjoying the texture of his skin.

His face gentled. “Come here.”

She fell into his lap, throat taut with emotion. He kissed her neck and held her in his arms, rubbing her back in gentle circles.

Her body relaxed with relief. “In three hours, I’ll be twenty-five. Midnight, Empire time.”

He seemed to consider that. “Have you come across any further changes?”

“I guess. Depends on what you’d call this.” She pulled her hands out from inside the sleeves of her shirt. Her fingertips were elongated with elaborate taloned nails mimicking the claws of a demon. Black tattoos marked her arms along with raised white scars.

She heard a soft exhale near her ear and his hands halted, tracing the intricate marks adorning her arms. “I see what you mean.” There was a second of silence. “Is a forked tail emerging as well?”

She burst into laughter and turned, hitting him on the shoulder. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

His eyes were alight with humor but something dark dwelled inside the pupils. There was something odd about his tone. Was he so afraid for her?

Resh twisted the book with one hand so it faced them both on the table and she welcomed the distraction.

“My journal.” She ran her hands over the leather cover and the book opened, pages flipping silently. The book smelled ancient and stale, redolent with myrrh.

He tightened his grip on her waist. “Yes. Shall we take a look? Lord Seth will join us soon to try to help with war strategy. Clarice is also here.”

Maya brightened. “Can I see her?” Clarice was the closest thing she had to a maternal figure. Which went to show how hard up she was, because she’d only spent a few days in the older woman’s company. Still, the idea of seeing Clarice cheered her like nothing else.

“Of course. I’ll send Pia. In the meantime, let’s see what we can find. I’ve been given command of the
Milites Order
. There are hundreds of Khereb burning towns across the Empire. We have the right number of races to evoke a high ritual—a Circle of Eight—if the witches agree to join us. We’ll also need to identify your genetic pool so you may participate.”

He didn’t have to say it. She could read the meaning behind his words. If they didn’t find a superior force, Resh would try to keep Tau safe and lead his Order into battle. He might live longer than the average human, but unlike her, he was still mortal.

* * * *

Clarice extracted some of Maya’s blood with a steel needle that appeared to have survived a medieval torture chamber, bringing to mind oubliettes and poor hygiene. Strangely enough, the needle didn’t hurt when it pierced her skin. Pia flew off with the sample for the healers to work over. Above their heads thunder rolled and lightning split the air, showcasing the Khereb flying above Tau, tossing fireballs at the shield that shuddered and cracked like an eggshell.

“Find Lord Seth and bring him to the temple of Hecate,” Resh said. Gaai looked at Maya as if seeking her response. She nodded and the bird lifted off through the pillars, becoming one with the darkness. Resh blinked in surprise.

Maya wanted to tell the bird to attach to someone else, but guessed Gaai would take it as an insult. She sighed, wondering when she’d earned the raven’s regard. One of them would have to change and, given the raven’s obstinate nature, she guessed it would be her.

Maya and Resh left the bedroom, followed by Clarice, who carried the cloth-wrapped grimoire. They moved quickly between open-air pavilions. The sound of chatter and haunting music becoming louder as they walked along a narrow dirt path into an open courtyard surrounded by moss-draped trees. Blue and green frankincense curled from hammered incense burners dangling from the tree branches.

“Stay together.” Resh placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close as they maneuvered through the crowded grounds of Tau. Maya could feel his heart beating through his thin shirt. It thudded slowly and she wondered if he controlled the rhythm, did it to keep her calm because he knew she felt strange, a newcomer even among mixed races. The witches smelled of sweat and body odors, clearly separated by their wild hair, unkempt looks, and bare feet from the formally attired, tattooed warlocks. Upright hybrid jackals covered in fur carried silver trays and served beverages in tall, narrow goblets. Several other creatures, feral smelling and wild, better suited to old legends and mythical stories, mingled in small groups, watchful and awkward, as out of place as Maya.