Wrath of the White Tigress (23 page)

Jaska turned away to catch his breath. "It's difficult to face him."

"Your mind grew used to obeying him. It will take some time for you to overcome the urges and imprints left within you."

Jaska regained his composure and watched Salahn meet with Nurit, the highest officer below Adynarh. Salahn wore pantaloons and his three qavra but nothing else. One qavra was centered in a belt around his waist. Another was lodged in his palymfar choker. Those were the sisters to Jaska's old qavra. The third rested in a headband that Salahn sometimes wore. Jaska recognized now that this was the stone Jeraia had given her son.

Nurit bowed. "Master, the soldiers you requested have arrived."

"They are not inferior?"

"These received elite training and were part of a decorated corps. They are here for a dereliction of duty. It seems they partook in looting against Karphon's orders."

"Bring them in."

Nurit returned moments later. Behind him, a group of twenty armed soldiers trudged into the courtyard. They stood before Salahn and bowed nervously.

"Guard the exits," Salahn said, and his palymfar dispersed to cover all the paths leading out. A devilish smile spread across Salahn's face, crinkling his dark eyes and exposing his sharp, white teeth. "You soldiers will serve a great purpose. You will help me judge my new capabilities that I may better understand them. You will all attack me and fight as best as you can. Any who survive will be given freedom. The alternative is death."

Tentatively, twelve of the soldiers drew scimitars and shields. Three prepared their bows. The last five readied their spears. The group shuffled forward.

Salahn stretched his shoulders and arms. "You must do better than that. Does no leader exist among you cowards?"

A scarred veteran in the front grimaced and spun to face the others. "If we must fight and die, then let us fight and die as brave men. It's a better death than the gallows would give."

Many nodded and firmed their expressions. The leader turned, yelled an ululation, and charged, scimitar held high. The others followed.

First, the Grandmaster had to deal with the archers who fired ahead of the others. Three arrows sped toward their mark. To Salahn they moved no faster than a rock might roll down a hill. He caught the first, deflected the second, and dodged the third. As the leader neared him, he flicked his wrist and sent the caught arrow into the man's neck. The leader fell, but those behind him didn't slow.

Unarmed, Salahn fought them. With his bare hands he crushed skulls, ruptured kidneys, disemboweled armored men, and broke swords. But he couldn't defeat so many. A spear thrust came through his guard and pierced deep into his chest.

 
Salahn grunted and jerked the spear out. A sword slashed across his back. Another stabbed into his leg. After a moment's hesitation, he kept fighting. He shattered the spear and broke the jaw of its wielder. A sword cut him across the arm, yet he kept fighting. Several small wounds later, only the three archers remained.

Jaska noticed that the first wound in Salahn's chest had sealed. Little blood had flowed from any of the wounds. Two arrows struck Salahn. The archers reloaded, yet Salahn laughed. He drew back his hands and darkfire ignited within his palm. With two casts, the black flames flew toward two of the archers and engulfed them. Screams echoed through the courtyard as they turned into piles of ash.

The third archer feathered a shaft into Salahn's eye. The Grandmaster fell to the ground writhing. The palymfar stirred but Nurit calmed them. The archer put two more arrows into Salahn. But Salahn rose from the ground and pointed toward the archer. The soldier's eyes widened as he clutched at his chest, fell to the ground, and writhed in agony as some unseen force killed him.

"Impressive, is it not?" said a deep, clear voice from behind Jaska and the Farseer, a voice Jaska knew and feared. "I have grown quite powerful as of late."

Jaska drew his weapons as he spun. Salahn stood before them in the Shadowland with saber and bagh nakh in hand. Two large demons with red-black skin and leathery wings, razor beaks and talons, flanked him.

"On short notice I could only bring these two middling demons and myself. I didn't expect to have my prize pupil spying on my past." Salahn stalked closer to Jaska. "Have you nothing to say to your master?"

"I will kill you for what you did to me."

"How pitiful. You have seen that I'm invulnerable. I assure you that I am no less so here." He looked Jaska over. "You look as fit as ever, though I see you wear another's qavra."

"Mine was tainted."

"Indeed, but I can control you without it, even here in the shadows of the past."

"I think not."

Salahn raised an eyebrow. "We shall see." He turned to the Farseer. "I didn't know for sure that you existed. I am glad that we could meet. Tell me, what is my future?"

"The future holds many threads. I can only tell you what will most likely happen."

"Nalsyrra who serves Karphon can do more than that."

"Yes, but she knows only that future which her gods will show her."

"You could make a good ally. And as an ally, there would be no need to invade your island and destroy you."

"Destroy me if you must, but for all these millennia, the Arhrhakim have resisted corruption--by humans, Eirsenda, Zindarhi, and races that have not even made it into your legends. I don't fear death, and I certainly don't fear you."

Salahn smiled. "You should."

Jaska turned to the Farseer. "Go! Save yourself."

"I will open the way for you to return."

"How noble," Salahn said, "but I have not given you my permission to leave."

"Will your demons stop me?"

Salahn ordered them to do so, and the Farseer laughed. She clapped her hands together and instantly her form burst into a cloud of bats that swirled about, dispersed, and streamed past the demons who stared at them in confusion.
 

Salahn cursed and ordered them to ignore her. "Ah well, this is her domain for now. But it is not yours, Jaska. Return to me and I will make you a god. Everything will be as it was before. You and Mardha together at my side fighting valiantly against our enemies."

"I will not serve your evil."

"You will believe your cause to be good. You will not know any difference. Isn't that better than death? I will even spare your precious Zyrella."

"How would I know that you'd do that? I'd never have another true thought of my own."

Salahn sighed. "It seems I must make you my slave again by force."

Jaska leapt forward with his saber but Salahn chanted words of power, bindings strengthened by his new abilities. Jaska halted, struggling against the compulsions that assaulted his mind, taking the avenues his old qavra had forged. His new qavra didn't provide adequate protection.

"You will fall to your knees and worship me."

"Never!"

"You will obey me!"

Jaska struggled and cried out. Yet he couldn't stop his knees from bending. He was falling to Salahn's will and couldn't stop it. Hopelessness filled him, but then a bestial roar sounded through the Shadowland and the bonds weakened.

"What!" Salahn yelled. "That's impossible."

Jaska turned and saw the White Tigress charging toward him through the tunnel the Farseer had left in the Shadowland. Salahn staggered backward and clutched at his chest. The tattoo on his skin had faded.

Salahn pointed. "Get her!"
 

The two demons sped toward the Tigress. The first dove at her, and she dodged its talons. When the second swooped down, she leapt up and met it. They fell together and rolled around, until the Tigress locked her jaws on the Zhura-djinn's neck and tore out its throat. The demon faded into a smoky wisp, not slain, for that was impossible, but diminished for many years. She sprinted forward with the other demon chasing her.

While Salahn backed away in confusion, Jaska fled toward the Tigress. Leaping far up into the air using his palymfar abilities, Jaska surprised the pursuing demon and slashed it across the chest. The demon crashed to the ground. Jaska darted over to the Tigress. He wrapped his arms around her neck and climbed onto her back as she urged him to do. Her voice was not as he had remembered, though it was familiar.

As she sprinted, Jaska glanced back. "Dodge!" he yelled. The Tigress did so. A dark bolt of energy flew past them, searing her flank and Jaska's arm.
 

Salahn and the demon pursued them into the tunnel. More darkbolts flew, and they narrowly dodged them. At last the bolts ceased. Salahn and the demon were no longer in sight. The Tigress couldn't maintain her pace. Jaska hopped off her back and knelt beside her as she collapsed.
 

Her form dissolved into that of her priestess.

"Zyrella," Jaska said as he tried to lift her. "What's happening?"

"No time to explain," she whispered. "We must get back to the mountain."

Jaska took her up in his arms, finding his strength had increased as he gained distance from Salahn. He ran with her as fast as he could but soon his strength faded from more than exertion.
 

A darkbolt streaked by overhead and spattered into a shower of hellish sparks ahead as if it had struck an invisible wall. A screech sounded. Jaska glanced back to see the wounded demon nearing them. They couldn't reach the wall before it got to them. He prepared to throw Zyrella down and fight, but the Farseer emerged from the shadows and cast a bolt of light toward the demon. It recoiled and circled away to prepare for another pass. That was just enough time for Jaska to carry Zyrella through the opening in the wall. He ran, following the Farseer who glided with speed as she chanted the words of return.
 

~~~

Jaska came to himself standing in the alcove, drenched in sweat and light-headed from his experiences in the Shadowland. He stumbled away and fell to the floor. The Farseer was gasping for breath as she leaned onto her altar. Zyrella had slumped down in her alcove and seemed half-conscious, her chest heaving, her eyes glazed over. Ohzikar, the twins, and the Arhrhakim staggered out and sat, clearly exhausted, though not as much as those who had journeyed into the Shadowland. Tears streaked their faces, and their eyes were rimmed in red.

After a few moments, Ohzikar crawled over to Zyrella and checked to see if she was all right. The best response she could manage was a brief nod. Arhrhakim servants entered, as if summoned through thought alone, and brought goblets of the strengthening water to everyone.
 

The Farseer rose and turned to the servants. "Help them all to stand in the alcoves. I will again put them into a restorative sleep."

The servants helped Zyrella stand and held her up while the others entered the alcoves. The Farseer chanted with a fatigued voice, and they all drifted into sleep.

~~~

Jaska woke with the others, feeling somewhat rested. He ignored the concerned looks the others gave him. He walked over to where Zyrella stood seemingly half-aware in the alcove. "Are you all right?"

"Well enough," she murmured, looking away.

"How did you transform into the Tigress? Salahn seemed hurt by it."

Her voice was listless, disinterested. "I drew her power from him. Pathways remained open in the Shadowland that are closed in the real world."

"Then we could use this against him," Ohzikar said.

"He won't fall for it again. He will now know to close those pathways."

Jaska touched her arm. "Regardless, you saved my life."

She recoiled.
 

"Zyrella? What have I done?"

She stepped away from him. "I can't be near you now. Please."

"My people will lead you to rooms where you can rest," the Farseer said. "There you can get food and bathe."

After Zyrella walked into the other chamber, Ohzikar said, "We saw everything you saw, Jaska. We felt everything you felt. It was torture enough as it was, but to see Zyrella's mother, our high priestess kidnapped and raped, to see Zyrella's twisted half-sister . . ." Ohzikar shivered and shook his head.

Jaska focused on the Farseer. "I didn't know anyone could see what we did."

"I did not know either. The bonds between you and Zyrella are strong and this opened everything for all to see. I am sorry."

"She deserved to know," Ohzikar said. "Give her time. I'm sure she doesn't blame you."

Bakulus and Caracyn each patted him on the back. "We had no idea what it had been like for you," Bakulus said. "But I am honored to have had a chance to know you before Salahn's corruption."

"Aye," Caracyn added. "This has confirmed everything we hoped for in you. We will follow wherever you go and stand beside you against Salahn."

"I'm with them," Ohzikar said, his eyes cast down with shame. "I regret that I didn't trust you before. You're weak against him, that's true, but you're a good man."

"I am a man who will always be scarred," Jaska said. "I will always be filthy and vile."

Jaska approached the Farseer. Hyrkas and the other two Arhrhakim nodded respectfully. "There is one more favor I wish of you. I need to journey into the past to learn the arts of the true palymfar. Only with the original forms and meditations can I hope to rebuild myself and strengthen my willpower against Salahn."