Path of Honor (56 page)

Reisil’s lungs hurt, and she could hardly catch her breath as she began the ascent to the notch. The ground heaved and then dropped. Just ahead, a portion slipped away. It looked as if a giant had taken a great bite from the stone. Reisil eased out onto the remaining ledge and inched along, clutching the scrub springing from the cracks in the canyon wall for balance. She had to leap over the last two feet and then sprawled on her stomach, her left arm banging the ground like a sack of meal. Black clouds swirled over her vision. Reisil struggled to her feet, seeing the lip of the canyon ahead of her.

At last she pulled herself over, the ground trembling so violently that she could not keep her feet. She rolled onto her back, gasping. But there was no time to rest, not so close to the edge. She struggled up and dragged herself down the path. The mountain continued to tremble, but with less force. Here the trees were thicker, and she went from one to the next, bracing herself upright, coughing and wheezing. Saljane called encouragement, urging Reisil along.

Dawn came, and soon the sun rose above the trees. Reisil stopped at a stream, cupping icy water in her good hand. She drank all she could and fell back against a sugar pine to rest. Her shoulder throbbed with an ache that pulsed through her bones. She panted shallowly, her lungs too raw to allow a proper breath.

What had she done?

Suddenly she heard a booming roar. The tree she leaned against shivered, and the ground jolted, pine needles sprittering into the air as if a great hand had slapped the earth and made them jump. The roar went on for a long minute, and then there was silence. Not even a bird chirped. The wind fell still, and even the stream seemed hushed. Reisil struggled to her feet, turning back the way she’d come.

Reisil hesitated. Finally she nodded and lurched across the stream, soaking her boots.

They found Baku with the horses and Yohuac in a hollow a quarter of a league away. Baku had regained some of his color, and his hide no longer appeared so desiccated. When Reisil came over the rise, he stood, sniffing. Then he hunched back down onto the grass, watching as she stumbled down the path.

Yohuac had untied himself and managed to dismount. He now slept beside Baku, his scalp and brows pale against his dark skin. Reisil built a small camp, unwilling to go farther that night. Her shoulder flamed in agony, and she knew she could do nothing until she shoved her arm back into place. She wandered back into the trees, finding what she was looking for in a moss-covered juniper. There was a branch sticking out on the side, and she grabbed it with her good hand. Taking a breath, she used the branch to heave herself around, smashing her shoulder against the tree trunk.

She screamed.

She woke on the ground, Baku staring at her, his head resting on the ground inches away from her face. As she opened her eyes, he rose and walked away. Fair enough. She’d watched him suffer. She’d made him suffer. He ought to get a bit of his own back.

She staked out the horses and built a small fire, heating a pot of water. She made a broth for Yohuac, mixing into it several restorative medicines, floating bits of bread on top. He woke and drank it and soon fell asleep again.

She watched him sleep with gritty, burning eyes. There was no way she could heal him. In unleashing the power of the armband, she’d overloaded herself. The invisible part of herself that channeled magic was raw and bleeding. She looked down at her hands. She and Yohuac would have to heal naturally.

Despite Reisil’s misgivings about being so close to the wizards’ stronghold, if indeed it still existed, they remained in the hollow for three more days. Yohuac slept for most of that time, waking only to eat. Baku hunted and remained unrelentingly silent. Reisil made little effort to speak to him. She gathered wood and dug roots for their meals. Saljane brought back squirrels and rabbits for roasting. Reisil’s arm improved, and the stiffness in her body wore away, her lungs gradually allowing her to breathe more deeply. But she could still not draw on her power. Those wounds remained throbbing and exposed.

we go to Mysane Kosk,
Reisil said to Saljane on the morning of the third day. She was cleaning the saddles. Across the hollow, Baku lay with his head between his front claws, Yohuac sleeping in the curve of his tail.

~They come to Mysane Kosk.
It was Baku.

Reisil started at his unexpected intrusion, bewildered.
~Who?

A fleeting pastiche of faces flittered through Reisil’s mind: Juhrnus, Metyein, Kebonsat, others—many, many others.

Reisil clenched the rag in her hand. What had happened? Then she smiled. They were alive. She hadn’t been sure. She’d been afraid even to think about it.

~Thank you.
Relief swept Reisil. She felt too exposed here. If the wizards hadn’t been killed, if Tapit hadn’t died in the rockslide, then he’d be coming soon. Unable to draw on her magic, she would be helpless against them.

Baku stood and yawned hugely. He bent into a long, groaning stretch. Reisil smiled. He looked like a cat. A big, scaly, ferocious cat. He looked nearly back to normal. She wished the same could be said of Yohuac. He still had not spoken much. She wasn’t even sure he really recognized her. What if Uldegas had hurt him irreparably? Among all the other wounds, she’d discovered a seam along the back of his head and down his neck. The wizard had not bothered to seal the wound magically. Which meant that he didn’t want to waste energy on someone he figured would die soon—or he meant to open it again. Reisil scowled. She hoped he had died. Painfully.

They departed the next day, traveling slowly so as not to tire Yohuac more than necessary. He hardly woke enough to stay on his horse and slept whenever they stopped. It took four days to reach the cave, which was located high on a ridge above a lush river valley.

Reisil settled Yohuac on a pallet of grass and pine limbs before leading the horses down to the valley to graze. Baku agreed to keep watch on them, well content to sun himself on the rocky bank. Saljane brought back two fat rabbits. As the sun dropped lower and the mouthwatering scent of roasting rabbit drifted through the cave, Reisil knelt beside Yohuac.

His eyes were open.

“How do you feel?”

“Better.” He coughed, and she poured a cup of water, putting her arm around his thin shoulders to help him up. He drank, and she poured him more. “What happened?”

Reisil hesitated.

He smoothed his fingers over the bristles springing from his head. With horror he looked at his hands. “What did they do to me?”

“What do you remember?”

“We were looking for you. We knew where the stronghold must be—Baku could sense the magic. But we couldn’t find any sort of entrance. We ran into a trap.” He shook his head. “So obvious. We should have known. I couldn’t hear Baku at all.” His face contorted, and he sat up.

“Baku!” He closed his eyes and slumped, his face crumpling. “He is here. I can hear his voice.”

Reisil put her arms around him, holding him as he wept.

“It wasn’t supposed to—I can’t.”

“Sh-sh. You’re both all right. You’re both free.”

“No. I can’t do it. I can’t be
ahalad-kaaslane
.”

“Then you cannot,” Reisil answered, but wondered how he’d survive losing Baku when at last Baku gave up on him. She thrust the thought away. It was his choice, and he must bear it. “But now you must eat and regain your strength.”

“Wait. There’s something I have to tell you. What I should have told you before.”

Reisil squatted back down on the ground. “What?”

“I told you about the competition to be
Ilhuicatl
’s son, do you remember?” Reisil nodded. “What I didn’t tell you is that the nahualli blood is failing in Cemanahuatl. Every year fewer and fewer are born. But the nahuallis arrived at a solution. If a nahualli was made the son of
Ilhuicatl,
then his seed would be spread throughout the tribes. Not only that. They believe that a nahualli winning the competition would have greatly enhanced powers. They hope these would be passed along as well.”

Reisil’s brows furrowed. Where was he going with this? Why was it important to tell her this now? “There are more men like you—who have magic?”

“A few others. The nahuallis did not want to put all their wishes in one basket. But I have been thinking.” He struggled up on his elbows. “If I did win the
pahtia,
I might have the power to help you.” He dropped back with a sigh, arms trembling from the strain of holding himself up. “I told you I was untrained. But I am not without skills.”

Reisil stared down at him, her mind spinning. “You
can
use your magic,” she breathed. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

He opened his eyes, his dark gaze earnest. “It is a secret I have kept my whole life. I was never supposed to practice magic.”

“And now?”

“Nothing matters if Cemanahuatl is destroyed. And if I do not help you, I fear it will be.”

Reisil nodded, her head beginning to ache. She looked away, needing to get out into the night, where she could think. “Dinner is almost ready. I’d better get the horses.” She started to get up and was halted by his hand curving around her neck.

Reisil met his dark gaze again, her voice sharper than she meant it to be. “What else?”

Suddenly Yohuac leaned close and kissed her, his lips warm and soft. His tongue slipped inside her mouth. Reisil froze for an instant and then pressed close, opening her mouth against his. The kiss went on, and then finally he pulled away, his breath coming in short gasps.

Reisil swallowed, touching her tongue to her lips, tasting him. “What was that for?”

“Juhrnus . . .”

“Juhrnus? What does he have to do with it?”

“He said I should have kissed you when I had the chance.” He stretched back out on his pallet with a deep sigh.

Reisil smiled bemusedly, pulling the blanket up around his shoulders. She went outside, pausing on the ledge outside the cave. The sky overhead sparkled with stars. Below, the river glimmered like a silver ribbon in the moonlight. Crickets chirped and night birds twittered. The smell of woodsmoke and roasting rabbit mixed with the scents of the evergreen forest blanketing the surrounding hills. She drew a deep breath, pulling her cloak close against the night’s chill. In the west, clouds bundled on the horizon—thick, black thunderheads. Flashes of lightning flickered across the massed cloud bank like bolts of magic.

A fist of foreboding closed around Reisil’s heart. Time was running out. And how she was going to protect Mysane Kosk
and
save Kodu Riik from its destructive magic, she couldn’t begin to guess.

She touched her fingers to her lips, still feeling Yohuac’s kiss. She smiled, somehow her heart lightened. With a sigh, she swung down the path, her step springy.

Reisil and Saljane return in

Read on for an exciting preview of
Diana Pharaoh Francis’s next novel,
coming from Roc in 2006.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T
apit wasn’t dead. Reisil drove her sweat-drenched gelding across the scree. She felt a sickening lurch as the rocky slope began to roll away. Ahead, Yohuac’s horse—formerly Tapit’s—bounded onto the firm slope and disappeared into the trees.

Indigo twisted and stumbled, his haunches sliding as he scrabbled on the tumbling rocks. He neighed: a fearful, braying sound. Reisil leaned forward, catching at the rolling scree with a net of magic. She gasped at the pain, the magic flowing through her like a river of broken glass. It wasn’t as bad as it had been after she’d freed Yohuac and Baku and destroyed the wizards’ stronghold. Then she couldn’t even
think
of her magic, must less use it. Her lips pulled into a triumphant grin as the rocks firmed into a stony carpet. Indigo lunged to safety with a groan. Reisil reined him in and swung around.

Tapit appeared from behind an outcropping. He wore gray robes, as he had when he’d taken Saljane hostage. Reisil tensed and let the magical net unravel. The freed rocks thundered down the escarpment between them. In the same heartbeat, Reisil reached out to Saljane.

The image of a glittering snow-covered peak whirled across Reisil’s mind’s eye, followed by a pastiche of blue sky, trees, and Baku’s reptilian shape.

~With Baku. Mysane Kosk is not far
. Saljane paused.
He comes?

There was an unfamiliar thread of fear stitching through Saljane’s mindvoice. Reisil’s teeth ground together. It was the only thing Saljane feared: Tapit and his
ilgas
and losing her tie to Reisil.

Reisil glared across the churning stones. The wizard wore his hood down around his shoulders. His features were sharp and austere beneath his bristle of dark hair. She felt his dour gaze on her like a coal-hot brand. What did she read there? Hate? Greed? Revenge?

Her hands tightened on her reins. Indigo snorted and took a step back.

Saljane clutched at Reisil’s mind with iron talons.

~Watch well
, she urged, her voice sounding thin as a frayed wire.