Sword of the Gods: Agents of Ki (Sword of the Gods Saga) (86 page)

"I want to stay with him, too!" Pareesa protested.

"I
need
you, child," Chief Kiyan said. "I need you there to give this village hope, because without
him…
"

The Chief turned away, unable to finish what he wished say.

"I will tell him," Pareesa said. "I will tell him it's time to let go."

The warriors silently gathered up the relics Immanu needed to perform a ceremony to send his daughter, and the husband who had failed to save her, off into the dreamtime. Pareesa watched them shuffle out, shoulders hunched and eyes filled with tears. It was time. It was time to tell Mikhail the truth.
Only Siamek remained. He gave Pareesa a nod.

"Let's do this," Siamek said. "Immanu has appointed me to take the death-watch."

The choice had been made because, as Mikhail's official 'lieutenant,' Siamek was the highest-ranking warrior in Mikhail's army. It was an honor, to be attended by the best. They both knew Mikhail would have wanted
her
at his side, but Immanu claimed he needed her at the bonfire. The real reason was he feared she might help Gita escape.

She pushed aside the curtain and stepped inside. The foul stench of rotted flesh nearly overwhelmed her. Gita sat huddled over the bed, Ninsianna's red cape drawn tightly around her shoulders, her lips moving as she sang a prayer to a goddess who had never cared enough about her to help her out with anything.

Gita looked up, her eyebrows drawn together in fear. If Ninsianna was the
Chosen One
, then Gita must be the
Un-Chosen
. The girl who even the goddess could not see. Which of them looked worse right now? Mikhail? Or the girl who had sang away her own life's energy, trying to give him the strength to survive?

"Leave us," Pareesa said.

Impenetrable black eyes met hers, made all the darker by the contrast with her pale, translucent skin. Those preternaturally large omniscient orbs glistened like a terrified nocturnal animal, forever fearful that a predator was about to eat her.

"He…"

"It's just for a moment," Pareesa said. "I just wish to say goodbye."

Gita rose from her uncomfortable stool which was the only concession they had made to the girl's comfort. Ninsianna's red cape hung loosely around her slight frame, a mocking reminder that while
she
had tended him, it had been another woman's name he had cried out for, another woman that he loved. They had used her. They had
all
used her. And now that she was no longer needed, they would cast her aside without remorse.

Pareesa clasped Gita's hands. They were cold and skeletal, as if the pallor of death had come into
her
body as well as his.

"Be strong," Pareesa whispered to her. "Be strong … for him."

Gita's dark eyes filled with tears.

"I gave him everything I had," Gita's lip trembled. "It just wasn't enough. I'm sorry. I'm not gifted like his
real
wife was."

Pareesa gave Gita a hug.

"You
are
gifted," Pareesa said. She lowered her voice. "We both know Ninsianna would have given up on him weeks ago."

Gita took off the red cape and hung it on the wall. It was fitting Mikhail should know it had been Gita, the lowest creature he had ever taken pity upon, and not Ninsianna, the highest, who had stayed with him until the bitter end. Gita stepped out of the room, her head bowed in shame.

Siamek moved to follow her, to make sure she didn't escape.

"Stay with me," Pareesa said. She spoke it not as a request, but with her best facsimile of the old god's voice and authority.

"I'm supposed to…"

Siamek's eyes were haunted.
She
knew what Immanu had ordered him to do the moment Mikhail passed, and she opposed it, she opposed it with every ounce of her being!

"If she'd wanted to abandon him," Pareesa said, "she had every opportunity to do so weeks ago."

"But she…"

"She did no such thing," Pareesa said. "You know that better than anyone!"

Siamek nodded. Since the night they had come for him, Firouz had become deliberately lax, doing his best to allow the girl to escape. Why had Gita stayed when the entire village had united against her?

"You will
not
throw that girl into the hole!" Pareesa said. "She is not guilty, and
he
would speak against it if he was still alive."

"What should I do?"

"Do what your heart tells you is right," Pareesa said. "Do what
he
would tell you to do if he woke up and gave to you his final wishes. Everybody in the village trusts whatever you say."

The suggestion was implicit without saying the words. She asked Siamek to tell a lie, to sully his honor for a girl he clearly did not like.

She had never seen Siamek cry, not in all the years that she had known him, not even after Jamin had been banished and she'd earned his trust as a warrior and a friend. But he did so now, threw his arms around her and wept, he who had lost not just the best friend who had betrayed them, but now the man who'd allowed him to earn forgiveness when, he, off all people, understood he'd deserved none.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Siamek said.

"We lead them," Pareesa said. "We lead them in his stead."

"It is
you
they look to," Siamek said, "not me. I never earned his trust and everyone knows it. Not even towards the end."

Siamek pulled away, too much of a
man
to do something so girlish as weep.

"Go," Siamek said. "Tell him the truth. I will wait for you just outside the door." He moved, shoulders slumped, back outside where the stench of death was not so pungent, leaving her with her hero alone.

Pareesa stood beside the bed, staring down at the emaciated husk which was all they had left of the man who had fallen from the heavens. Pale, yellow light from the tallow lanterns flickered, valiantly trying to push back the darkness and the chill. His chest shuddered as even now he fought to breathe. Out. In. Out. In. Never had a man been so badly injured and fought so long to live.

His black-brown wings lay crushed beneath him, the only thing about him which still remained magnificent. Oh, how could she tell him goodbye? He, who had come to mean everything her? Her sword of truth? Her guiding star? He was … everything she aspired to become.

Tears flowed as she kneeled beside his deathbed and took his hand.

"I've come to seek your blessing,
sensei.
I've come to ask you to pass to me your sword."

She would not take his sword unless he gave her his blessing. She watched his chest rise and fall. Slowly. Far too slow to bring enough air into his lungs. Out. Lengthy pause. Jagged hiccup in. Hint of a moan of pain. A strangled rattle as he breathed it out again. A shudder as his chest collapsed under the weight of the rotted, infected meat. And then, a terrifying silence. She prayed for him.
Breathe! Oh, gods, please breathe!
And then it started all over again. The next painful breath. Fighting. Even now, Mikhail kept fighting to stay alive. It was time to end the lie.

"She is gone,
sensei!
" Tears slid down her cheeks and kissed his arms with her guilt. "She is gone, sensei, and it's time for us to let you go."

Her slender frame shuddered as she pressed her forehead into his hand, begging for absolution, begging for his forgiveness.

"I'm so sorry! I know it was cruel to deceive you when you trusted me to tell you the truth! I should have let you go when we knew Ninsianna had been taken, but we hoped … we didn't want to let you go if there was any hope she might be found alive."

Her slender body shook as she wept the tears six weeks of denial had helped her keep at bay. Why? Why had she taken part in this deception which had only prolonged his separation from his wife? Because she was selfish, that's why!
She
had needed him, so she had lied because she thought she was too weak to stand alone.

That subtle tingle of energy at the crown of her head reminded her that she
wasn't
alone. The Cherubim God of War had made her a promise the day she'd thrown herself into a hopeless situation in a vain attempt to save Mikhail's life. Yes. He had made her a promise. For her, and for Mikhail. She wiped her tears. She understood what the old god needed her to do.

A feeling of peace came over her, that supernatural sense of
knowing
how a body intended to move even before the thought had manifested into the physical world. She saw it. She felt it. The shadow hand of light moved from Mikhail's inert body to touch her cheek and passed along to her his sacred blessing.

"You knew?" Pareesa whispered. "You knew we were deceiving you?"

The shadow-hand moved back down to squeeze hers.

"For how long?"

The vision faded. It was just her; she and her hero who lay dying. His sword glimmered like a beacon of hope from its place beneath his deathbed. It was hers now. He wanted
her
to have it.

She slid the unearthly weapon out from its bower and placed it carefully into his hands. If only they'd had more of these, she would have made certain he was buried with it, but their need was great and Mikhail had always been too pragmatic to waste a necessary item on a ceremony.

"I will take good care of it,
sensei
," Pareesa promised. "You have my word. I will do my best to honor the lessons you taught us."

She kissed his forehead, his eyelids, and then the cold, blue lips which had grown so weak he no longer possessed the strength to burn a fever. Oh, how long had she dreamed of giving him this kiss, and now that she had given it, she wished fervently she never had the opportunity. How does one tell their hero goodbye?

"Goodbye, my Champion. Don't be afraid. I will guide them in your stead."

She slid the sword from his grip, tears falling onto the unearthly metal and making it glisten even brighter.

"Wait for me
.
Whisper secrets when I am perplexed and encourage me to be brave whenever my courage falters. Remind me of how very beautiful you were, and just how brave you were in the face of overwhelming odds. Watch over me until the day comes that I can finally rejoin you to fight at your side in the next realm. We shall conquer evil … together."

She understood now what he needed her to do. She moved past Siamek to pass Gita lurking sorrowfully on the landing. The girl looked paler than Pareesa had ever seen her before, a frail girl who might not survive much longer than Mikhail.

"He knows," Pareesa took her hand. "Comfort him. Make his passage as comfortable and beautiful as you can."

Tears glistened in Gita's preternaturally dark eyes, but she looked relieved that they would not make her leave.

"You know I will," Gita said. "I will not abandon him until his spirit has left his body."

They hugged each other. Sprit-sisters. Favored one. Forgotten one. Their embrace broke off and Gita moved back into the room. It was fitting that
she,
dark girl, who had never left his side, would be the last person he saw before he passed from this world into the next one. As soon as this was over, she would do her best to prove Gita's innocence.

Pareesa paused in the kitchen to tie his sword around her waist. It felt
right,
finally, as if it belonged there, this unearthly weapon which would give her people an edge. He had passed his mantle onto
her,
not just a sword, but a responsibility. It was up to
her
to finish Mikhail's mission.

She made her way through the alley towards the centermost square, rehearsing what she needed to say. The words to a prayer came into her mind, strange words, alien words, but as she walked, she understood their meaning. She turned them over in her mind, over and over again, until at last they made sense in a language the others would understand.

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