Strange Attractors (59 page)

Jarrod nodded, guiding Teg to a tree stump. The horse, delighted to see him, followed like a puppy. He took Teg’s cloth sword belt and cinched it tight over his gaping shoulder wound. The Lupin winced but didn’t cry out. They sat together, back to back, with Drayco, Scylla and Rosette surrounding them, guarding the circle, adding their thoughts to the spell.

The sun warms my face
, Teg began.
I’m glad in my heart to see it shine again.

The earth is firm beneath my bare feet
, Jarrod replied.

I’ve never seen the sky so blue
, Rosette said. She
pulled off her cloak, turning her face towards the clouds.
Or the breeze so soft.

My fur is dry, my paws clean.
Drayco’s rich voice filled his mind. Together, with their thoughts as one, they dissipated the rain storm and brought sunshine and warmth to the battleground.

The reprieve was short-lived, at least in Rosette’s heart. As she looked around the battlefield she wished they’d left it raining. The drab colours had veiled what the sun exposed. She was happy for the warmth, but the visual revelation was another thing. The light stung her eyes and the shimmer of every wet surface magnified the feast of death around her. Bodies glistened in the mud everywhere she looked. Bile rose in her throat and she pulled her eyes away from the twisted limbs and vacant eyes. She focused on the top of Drayco’s head; his large ears were pointing back, listening. ‘What is it, Dray?’

Can you hear now?

She rubbed the side of her head, pushing lengths of wet hair away. ‘It’s coming back, slowly.’ She scratched him under the chin, her fingers bloody. ‘You’re a mess, lovely.’

Have you seen yourself, Maudi? Not any better, I promise.

She smiled. ‘I feel like a blacksmith’s anvil that’s been pounded all day.’

You look pretty much like that as well.

‘Thanks. You too.’ She gazed at Teg then allowed her eyes to drift over Jarrod, her lifelong companion in a stranger’s body. ‘We all do.’

An’ Lawrence’s scouts and a pack of Lupins were readying to escort the surviving Corsanons out of the woods, seeing them back to their borders. It would be a long ride and she was glad she hadn’t been assigned it.
The dead were dragged across the ground, over the pools of blood and gore, and tied to their horses. A grey mare stood to the side, not letting anyone handle her.

‘Rose,’ Jarrod said, and went to her. ‘Easy girl.’ He calmed her, whispering something in her ear, and handed her over to a disarmed Corsanon. Rosette put her head in her hands, covering her eyes.

Maudi?
Drayco’s tail fanned the air.
Are you all right?

‘I’m not. Look at our temple grounds, Dray. Our beautiful forest is defiled, and still Temple Dumarka has vanished. It’s abandoned, ruined. What happened? Where is Kreshkali?’ She sucked in her breath and turned to the crevice in the cliff. ‘Where is Passillo?’

The temple is not abandoned, Maudi.

‘What’s that, Drayco?’ She stood, scanning the woods.

Temple Dumarka is not lost. They come.

‘Who comes?’

Follow me.

He led her past the clearing, skirting bodies yet to be hauled away. They passed ancient columns scattered like kindling around a camp, overgrown with vines, half buried in the loam. At the edge of a towering redwood tree she stopped, her hand on the soft strands of peeling bark. ‘Dray? What are we looking for?’

What is looking?

A pair of temple cats emerged from the trees—a jet-black male and a female, black with flecks of red. Drayco went to them and head pressed the male, giving the other a lingering nose touch. Rosette hung back, her mouth open. ‘Who are they, Dray? They look so much like you,’ she whispered.

Come meet them. This is Drack, my sire, and Maudi, my dam.

Rosette’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Your mother and father? Here in the woods all along?’ She knelt in front of them. ‘I am so grateful to you both. I’ve blessed you every day for allowing Drayco into my life. I’ve loved him as fiercely as any ever could, and he me.’

Are you comforted now?
Drack asked his mate, his question filtering into Rosette’s mind.

The only answer was the warm purr of the temple cat queen.

‘What’s happened? Where are the others?’ Rosette asked.

All here, all well
, the queen said, grooming Drayco’s ruff.

‘But where? I can’t see anyone but you two.’

Yet we are all here just the same.
Drack looked around, focusing on things Rosette could not see.

‘A glamour?’

Not that.

‘What then?’

We are in a different vibration, a different alignment.

The temple cats became transparent, as if they were wisps of smoke. Drack’s translucent form headed back into the depths of the woods. The queen followed.

‘Wait. When will we see you again?’

When you are also in alignment with this temple.

Rosette watched them vanish, her hand resting on Drayco’s shoulder. ‘I don’t understand.’

They are satisfied, Maudi.

‘Satisfied?’

That you and I must be.

‘But we’ve
been
all your life. It’s not like they are just deciding to let us meet—to let me rescue you as a tiny kitten.’

Actually, they are.

‘But…’

‘Rosette?’

She looked over her shoulder; An’ Lawrence was motioning her back.

‘Teg said you’re deaf?’ He mouthed the words with exaggerated expression.

‘It’s just my eardrums. I blew them diving for Passillo.’ Her head lifted to the corridor entrance. ‘I can hear a lot better now.’

‘Who were you talking to?’

She looked at the ruined temple. ‘Just Drayco.’

He gazed at the broken columns, the sun sparkling on the wet stones. He rested his hand on her shoulder. ‘How are you?’

She gave him a brief hug. ‘I’m fine.’ His eyes took in her slender body and she looked away. ‘Not now.’

‘Your child was my blood too, Rosette.’

‘I know. Just, not now.’ They stood beside the weeping willow; Rosette pressed her cheek against the smooth white bark and An’ Lawrence grasped a branch. Both avoided looking at the ruins, the bodies, the mud, the decimation.

The river ran clear. They focused on that. Rosette watched a tangle of twigs race past, bouncing along the rapids. It was caught in an eddy for a moment before ripping free, racing on towards the distant ocean.

‘What about the Lemur raven?’ she asked. ‘Was that really Makee?’

An’ Lawrence clenched his hands. ‘It was.’

‘And?’

‘She died, and Wocca’s vanished.’

‘Her familiar?’ Rosette sighed. ‘And what she’s done? What about that?’

‘It can’t be undone.’ He took Rosette’s hand.

His fingers felt cold and stiff. She flooded them with warmth and watched his face relax.

‘We need to get the wounded out of here,’ he said. ‘Teg’s bad. He must be healed.’

‘I have to find that young witch.’

Shaea
, Drayco said.

‘Shaea. I have to track her and get Passillo back.’ She frowned. ‘At least Jarrod is here now, but his backup is wandering somewhere in the corridors with a rogue apprentice—and Passillo is more than Jarrod…’

An’ Lawrence turned to face her. ‘I thought you had the spell?’

‘Not any more.’ She told him what had happened and his face tightened again.

‘Who is Shaea?’

Rosette shook her head. ‘An apprentice of La Makee’s?’

‘Perhaps.’ An’ Lawrence straightened. ‘Get Jarrod and Teg to the portal. Scylla and I’ll be along.’

‘We’ve got Clay here too, and Shane.’

‘What? Where?’

‘Under the bridge, last time I looked.’

He pulled his head back. ‘How?’

‘No idea, but we can’t leave them behind.’

‘You help Teg up the cliff. I’ll bring the bards.’

‘Where’re we going?’

‘Temple Los Loma. We need to talk to Nell. Kreshkali’s beyond my thoughts.’

‘Mine too. Have you checked with Teg?’

An’ Lawrence frowned. ‘Why should I?’

‘They’ve got quite a strong link.’

He looked away. ‘Hadn’t noticed.’

She patted the back of his hand. ‘To Los Loma then. To Nell.’

R
osette leaned against the corridor wall, picking dried blood from her wrist. The fumes wafting from her soaked robes were not pleasant. She couldn’t wait to get cleaned up.

Agreed.
Her familiar sat very still.

‘Eating and sleeping will be welcome too.’ She reached over Jarrod to pat Teg’s cheek. ‘Hey?’ His head lolled to the side. ‘You okay?’ She slapped his face lightly. ‘Teg?’

He caught her hand before she could hit him again, opening one eye. He shut it immediately and groaned. ‘I was for a moment. Hurts like demons now.’

‘Think about something else, Teg. Get your mind out of the wound.’

The Lupin clicked his tongue. ‘I was, until you woke me.’

‘Sorry.’ She climbed over Jarrod and knelt in front of Teg. Her hands hovered above his shoulder and she hummed a monotone chant, flowing warmth and energy to him. He was asleep in moments.

‘Drayco, what are you doing?’ she asked, as she crawled back to her spot against the wall.

Her familiar sniffed Jarrod’s boots, tasting the air.
He’s Jarrod in his mind, but he’s got younger, and shorter. Strange, isn’t it?

‘Strange indeed.’ She frowned. ‘How did it happen?’ She directed the question to Jarrod. ‘The last time I saw you was on the Corsanon steps in the driving rain.’

‘That’s right. You went under and I tried to fish you out.’

Rosette wrinkled her nose. ‘Makee didn’t push you over the edge?’

‘Is that what you thought?’ He shook his head. ‘I was trapped under the rapids for the whole ride down and had a rather hard landing. My tulpa lost some of its integrity.’

‘Integrity?’

‘Limbs, lower jaw, bit of spinal column—it was uninhabitable.’

‘So you took this boy’s body and carried on his life as a Corsanon stable hand?’ Rosette stared at him.

‘I didn’t steal it! He’d died the day before. Arrow in the neck.’

‘Arrow? That makes sense. But why didn’t you come to me?’ She brushed his hair back from his cheek. ‘We saw each other! We passed each other, more than once. Why the deception?’

‘I was deceived myself! The original occupant of this body, Xane, left behind some powerful memories and the hemlock was still on board. When I woke up, I glimpsed myself for a moment and then went under. I thought Xane’s old data files were me. My memories. I thought I was him. My conscious awareness was buried for quite some time.’

‘And I nearly killed you,’ Rosette said.

‘I know.’

She took his hand. He had beautiful, long tapering fingers. She studied them, turning her wrist back and forth. ‘Where is Xane now?’

‘I don’t know. His consciousness was not around when I took over.’ He scratched at the scab. ‘I think the hemlock poison was partly why I had so much trouble connecting to my own memories and not his. I thought I was going mad.’

She squeezed his hand. ‘Xane…I like that name.’ Rosette’s mind turned back to the night Jarrod was lost. ‘Shaea—the girl who has Passillo—she talked about a brother who had just died.’

‘I know. This was him.’

‘Was it? Are you sure that he was dead? He’s not still in there somewhere?’

‘He is gone, Rosette.’

‘But the memories.’

‘Memories are the books in a library, not the librarian.’

She nodded. ‘I understand. How’d you get the body to life?’

‘The hemlock preserved the organs, and kick-starting his old physicality seemed easier than creating a new tulpa.’

‘Kick-starting?’

‘Earth term. Motorcycles. Means to get it
up and running
.’

Rosette kissed his hand. ‘And Shaea’s his sister?’

‘He thought so…’

‘You still remember his life?’

Jarrod nodded. ‘I have my sense of self, but I can still access his memories. Like a movie.’

‘A what?’

‘Like a biography—a story about someone else’s life. He and Shaea were abandoned, raised by no one, surviving in the streets of Corsanon.’ He frowned. ‘Actually, not by no one—Rall had a pretty strong hand in it. I think she was interested for reasons of her own.’

‘Rall?’

‘A witch. Xane didn’t know much about it. I’ll see if I can access his earlier memories.’

‘It’s bizarre, Jarrod. You’ve appropriated this young man’s life.’

‘Believe me, it’s bizarre for me too.’ He smiled. ‘But even without knowing myself, when I saw you I loved you.’ He whispered the last part.

You were leading a black mare. I was in a coach. You caught my eye, I’ll admit it.

I wanted to follow you forever.

And now?
She opened her palm, his fingers staying laced.

All the more so.

I’m glad we have that worked out, Maudi. It still doesn’t solve the mystery of why Shaea’s blood is the same as yours and Nell’s.
Drayco yawned like a cavern.

It doesn’t.
Rosette scratched her familiar’s head, her eyes drifting over to An’ Lawrence. He stood with the palomino gelding. The horse’s head was down, eyes hooded. The bards were slumped against each other in the saddle, tied securely. She pointed her finger at him. ‘Sword Master, I have a question for you.’

‘What is that, daughter?’

‘In your crusades through Corsanon and surrounding lands, did you happen to have any other kinds of adventures? Any offspring that I would be related to? Can you recall?’

‘No,’ he said, snapping off any further comment. ‘I didn’t and I don’t so take your search elsewhere.’