The Shadow’s Curse (36 page)

Still, Raim didn’t want to hang around to see if one of them might stir. He crept over to the cage. He didn’t want to wake Tarik the normal way, so instead he used a tip that Mesan had taught him. He poured a drop of water from his water bottle onto a strip of cloth, and placed it on Tarik’s wrists. His brother’s skin was almost searing to touch, and Raim worried that he might be suffering even beyond being kept in the cage. If he had been in a similar condition to Raim when he’d been washed up on the shore, he would have needed serious treatment. He doubted the king would have given it to him.

Tarik’s eyes fluttered open. He stared wide-eyed at Raim’s face and momentarily recoiled, but relaxed when he recognized his brother. Raim put a finger against his own lips, then slipped a piece of jarumba root out of his pocket. He passed it through the bars, and Tarik bit down on it eagerly. His eyes rolled back in his head, as if he was experiencing some kind of ecstasy.

‘Tarik, where are the keys to the cage?’ Raim whispered. He held up the thick lock that held the bars together. He could maybe hack through it with brute force, but that would attract far more attention than he wanted.

‘The guards,’ Tarik said. ‘The one on the left has the keys to the cage, the one on the right has the keys to my chains.’

Raim bit his lower lip. Of course the guards had them. He mouthed, ‘just a moment,’ then crept along the perimeter of the tent until he was close enough to reach out and touch the first guard. He signalled to Draikh to go around to the other the guard.

He took a deep breath.

One of them opened his eye a fraction, then opened his mouth to cry out. Raim quickly snapped the edge of his hand against the man’s throat, and the guard slumped to the floor.

Draikh was far subtler, pressing down on a pressure point on the man’s neck until he too slid from sleep into unconsciousness. Raim took the keys from around the man’s belt, and rushed over to Tarik. In a few seconds they had the lock undone, and Draikh passed over the second set to undo his wrists.

‘You can’t stay here,’ said Tarik, his voice full of urgency.

‘No, I realize that – but once I get you to the Alashan camp, the king won’t be able to punish me. He still needs me, and I him, but I’m not going to let him bully me.’

‘No, it’s not that,’ said Tarik. ‘It’s the king and the Lady Chabi. The king offered to make her his wife and Queen of the North. They’re going to use you to destroy Khareh’s spirit army but then they will destroy you. Your mother has no love for you, no matter what she has said.’

Raim reeled from Tarik’s words. ‘How – how can that be true? The destiny – the blood of Hao? The council?’

‘What is a destiny but words, and what is blood but liquid? Your mother was never truly loyal to the Council; she only wanted power for herself. Why do you think she is your mother? She found the blood of Hao, only to want to make herself a part of it. And then when she was on the brink of losing everything, she made the reckless decision to force the promise on you as a baby. Why would she do that? She did it to save herself. But then she needed you to wake her from her sleep.’

A movement from outside the tent, like a loud thump, made them both jump. ‘I will explain it all later. For now, we need to get out of here . . .’

Tarik was too weak to move very far, so Raim supported his weight across his back.
Draikh, can you carry both of us?

‘For a short period.’

Do it, please. The Alashan are waiting on the outskirts of the camp.

They barely took two steps outside the tent, when Oyu screeched a warning cry. Raim stopped in his tracks. From behind him, a deep voice resounded. ‘What are you doing?’

It was the king, the Lady Chabi, and several alert soldiers – slaves – dropping their fans and taking up swords instead. Raim had to hand it to the king. He looked wide-awake and, if he was suffering from the heat, he wasn’t going to show it.

‘Stand up to him,’ said Draikh, in his mind.

‘I’m freeing my brother,’ said Raim, pulling himself up to his full height. ‘You have no right to keep him locked up in a cage like an animal.’

‘I have every right. The Lady Chabi and I have been discussing this matter. You are not the saviour I was promised. You are no khan-in-waiting; you are an arrogant boy with a few paltry tricks up his sleeve and a weak shadow. I needed someone to destroy the young khan in the North and his shadow army – and now I hear you cannot even do that. Your mother told me the truth. She told me that scar on your chest is a promise to Khareh-khan. That means you are nothing to me.’

Raim couldn’t help but look at Lady Chabi in that instant. Her face was pale, but determined. So Tarik had been right after all. ‘I’m sorry, my son,’ she said. ‘If you hadn’t made that Absolute Vow, maybe things would have been different. My spirit obviously knew the truth. I needed you to come here to wake me. But now I will be Queen of the North.’

The king smirked. ‘Together we will rule your blasted land, and I will take your wretched people and make them my slaves. Just what they deserve.’

Draikh?

‘I’m on it.’ Draikh swooped at the nearest guard, disarming him and throwing the sword in Raim’s direction. But this time, the king just laughed. ‘You might have been told about my obsession with birds. Well, I happen to know a thing or two about garfalcons, even though I thought they were just a legend. It’s something I suspected when I first saw that scar on your chest. Now, how about we prove my theory?’

In one swift motion, the king drew a bow from behind his back, and several of his guards did the same. They pointed their arrows at Raim.

Draikh? What do I do?

‘I’ll protect you!’ Draikh swooped back toward him.

But then the shooters changed direction, aiming their arrows at Oyu, who was circling the air above them. They let fly all at once.

‘No!’ Raim and Draikh cried at the same time.

Draikh changed direction and flew up to Oyu, solidifying in the air, trying to knock Oyu out of the path of the arrows. He deflected several of them, taking the points into his own form, knocking him down. But one of them hit true, burying itself deep in Oyu’s body. The garfalcon tumbled out of the sky, black feathers flying in every direction, until he hit the desert with a sickening thud.

Raim tore at the skin on his face, his throat forming an inhumane sound of grief. That’s when an arrow hit his own chest, and he was knocked to his knees.

As he fell, he caught sight of Lady Chabi, the bow in her hand pointing at him. He looked down in shock. But even as the blood blossomed out of the wound, all he could see was that the tattoo of permanence, the scar of his Absolute Vow, was gone.

‘I’m sorry, my son,’ Lady Chabi repeated, her words just reaching him through the veil of pain that descended over all his senses. Behind him, he could hear his brother’s voice saying ‘no, no, no’ over and over again.

He fell forward, just managing to turn sideways with a last show of strength, to stop the arrow burrowing any deeper.

Darkness descended. He welcomed it.

Come back to me
. He could picture Wadi’s hands making the symbol for protection. He tried to reach out to touch those hands, but his limbs wouldn’t respond no matter how hard he willed them.

Come back to me
, she said again.

I’m trying.

‘I can’t heal you any more. It won’t be enough.’ A voice broke through the fog of his mind. Khareh’s voice. ‘You have to do it, Raim. Can you hear me? Raim, you can do this.’

No, not Khareh’s voice. Draikh’s voice.

I don’t know how.
His thoughts were weak, ill-formed things.

Draikh seemed to pounce on them like a wildcat. ‘You’re there! Do it. I know you can. Do it for Wadi. Do it for vengeance. We can still stop the king! It’s not too late.’

It is too late
, he thought. But a tingling sensation ran through his body, concentrating in his chest. He drew away from it, the pain suddenly becoming too much.
It hurts, Draikh
.

‘I know it does, Raim. But just a little more. It’s working, I promise you. The Alashan are all here. They will help you. You just need to heal.’

‘What’s happening to him?’ Now Raim heard Tarik’s voice. ‘Look at his wound! It’s smaller, I’m sure of it.’

A damp cloth was pressed to Raim’s forehead, and the coolness of it helped to clear his mind. If he could hear Tarik now, it meant he was getting stronger. He focused on the tingling sensation again.
Separate
, he willed his spirit.
Heal me. Make me strong.

Searing pain made his body convulse, but it was a different kind of pain to the initial wound. He panted with breath, but he wouldn’t let it stop.
Water, I need water.
Instantly, water poured over his head and dripped into his mouth. Tarik cried out.

‘You’re doing it!’ said Draikh. ‘Keep going!’

He pushed and pushed.

‘There! The wound is healed. You can open your eyes now. You can stop.’

Come back to me
, Raim said, and this time he was talking to his own spirit. He felt himself become whole again, and the tingling ended.

‘Gods, Raim, you’ve really done it.’

He had healed himself. He felt power surge through him, felt his spirit lingering just beneath the surface. He would be able to draw it out as easily as breathing. The tingling returned, but now he welcomed it. He knew what it represented. He felt unbeatable. Invincible.

He opened his eyes. He saw Draikh, weak and near-transparent. Through him, he saw the shocked look on Tarik’s face. ‘You moved the water from the bowl,’ Tarik said, his mouth gaping like a fish after ever sentence. ‘Your wound just healed. Was that your shadow?’

‘In a way,’ said Raim, not sure how to explain what had happened. He rubbed where the arrow wound had been with his hand. It itched like the ghost of a wound, but there was barely even a scab there.

‘You did a better job than I could ever have done,’ said Draikh. ‘I’m proud of you.’

‘The king,’ Raim said, aloud. ‘Where is he?’

Tarik’s face darkened. ‘After the arrow, we all thought you were dead. The Alashan took you away, and they gathered Oyu’s body too. The Alashan left the camp then, moving too quickly for the king to keep up. But I don’t think the king cares. We are so close to Lazar now, he can see the line of the mountains.’

‘How long have I been out? Are we too late?’

‘That depends on how strong you are,’ said Tarik.

‘I’m strong enough for this,’ replied Raim.

‘Then you must leave at once. If you move now, you can catch them.’

‘We must do more than catch them,’ said Raim. ‘We have to overtake them.’ Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mesan standing in the corner. He caught his gaze, and the man nodded once.

Raim turned back to Tarik. ‘Thank you, for all that you’ve done.’

‘Thank you, brother, for saving me.’ He pulled Raim forward, touching their foreheads together. ‘You can do this. And when you are done, I will write a full account of your journey, so that all may know the truth.’

Raim stood, and was glad to see his legs held beneath him. ‘The king will pay for what he did to Oyu, and for all that he is planning to do.’ He followed Mesan outside.

There was only one mystery left.
Draikh, I thought once Oyu was gone that you would disappear too?

‘You can’t get rid of me that easily,’ Draikh chuckled. Then his tone turned more serious. ‘You are not an oath-breaker to Khareh, Raim. I didn’t appear to you because you broke an oath. I appeared because
I
did. And I still choose to stay with you. Now, let’s destroy the Southern King and make you a khan.’

Once they got outside, Raim was shocked to see that Mesan had abandoned his cloak completely. He only wore his lightweight tunic – which still covered the majority of his torso, but the cloak was the Alashan’s pride and joy. It was their moving shelter. Still, Mesan motioned wordlessly for Raim to abandon his, which he did so with great reluctance.

‘We will move faster this way,’ Mesan said with his hands.

Raim dropped his cloak without any more hesitation. He looked up at the sky, where Naran was still high overhead. ‘We still have many daylight hours left while the army won’t be able to move. I want to go as quickly as we can.’

His stomach chose that moment to growl loudly. He was about to ask for jarumba root, but Mesan held up his hand to stop him. ‘No, don’t eat anything. You must be as light as possible. Let’s go.’

Mesan was one of the best at moving during the daylight hours. Raim tried his best to copy his sleek, undulating movements, but it was almost impossible to be as efficient as he was. Mesan took him on a meandering path that followed as closely as possible to the shadows that the dunes cast in the desert. Even then, those shadows were but narrow lines of relief – the sun seemed to remain overhead for much longer than it ought. They were so close to the centre of the desert the sun made the air feel as thick as water, and each beam felt like a current to draw him backwards. Raim struggled for every breath, and every step felt like torture. Every so often, Mesan would slow down and repeat for Raim the mantra of moving in the desert: to keep his limbs as loose and liquid as possible, to keep his mind empty of anything except his destination, to try to force his mind over the matter of fact that his skin felt like it was roasting alive inside his lightweight tunic.

What kept him going was that horizon. The mountains were drawing closer, and that meant that Lazar was closer too. Just a taste of jarumba root . . .

‘Don’t think about food,’ said Draikh.

How about water?

‘Don’t think about that either!’

How about you just stop talking about it, then maybe I will?

It would soon be worth it, though. If he could reach the city before King Song did, he could prepare them.
How are you feeling? Are you strong?

‘I’ll be ready,’ Draikh said.

If he wanted the rightful Golden Khan to be in power, then he would have to go out there and fight for it himself, no more waiting for others to clear the path for him.