The Skull Throne

CHAPTER 13 FOUL MEAT 333 AR AUTUMN

There was a loud sound and Renna’s sight distorted, shattering entirely as her eyes were broken down into billions of tiny particles.

Human senses had little meaning in the between-state. Here, magic, in its endless tides, was the only sense that mattered. She could feel the wards in Leesha’s cottage, gently tugging at her essence. The demon bones in the pockets of her apron. They were not on the Hollow greatward net, but she felt its contours as surely as running her hand along a wall. Its power was a beacon, its Draw a twister that threatened to pull her in and suck her dry.

Instead she reached out, seeking a path to the Core. There were a number of them out in the yard, all harnessed by wardnets like Ferd Miller’s waterwheel back in Tibbet’s Brook.

Like the woman herself, Leesha’s wardnets had a powerful pull, but were simple enough to resist once their strength was known. Renna slipped into one and down, deep beneath the surface.

Immediately, she heard the call of the Core. It was distant on the surface, like Beni banging on a pot to call them from the field for lunch. But the moment she touched the path it gripped her in its beautiful song, filled with the promise of infinite power and immortality.

Beautiful as the song was, though, Renna knew it told only a half-truth. When the demons attacked the Hollow on new moon, she had conducted magic to repel them—and even that small amount had nearly consumed her. The Core was infinitely stronger, the source of all the magic in the world. Her own magic, enough to make her one of the most powerful people in the world, was a candle held up to its sun. She could indeed become a part of the Core, but not while hoping to retain anything of herself. A raindrop falling on the great lake.

She went as far down as she dared, knowing the call would only get stronger, then reached out her senses, feeling for paths back to the surface. They ran in all directions, some great and others small, some touching ground nearby, and others meandering for miles before finally poking out onto the surface.

She had not intentionally left anything of herself on the path she had taken here, but it was marked nevertheless, as familiar as the smell of her own sweat. She followed it and the miles bled by in an instant. She materialized south of the Hollow, and searched again, finding the next path in her return journey the same way.

She skated across hundreds of miles in four quick hops, materializing in moments inside the tower. “Ay, anyone here?”

When there was no answer, she grit her teeth, stomping to the door and kicking it open. Arlen and Jardir were in the yard, checking the wards that held the prisoner.

“Ren?” Arlen asked. He and Jardir both saw her aura and stopped what they were doing, turning their full attention on her.

“Sons of the Core did it again!” Renna shouted.

“What—” Arlen began.

“Krasians took Docktown,” Renna cut him off, snapping an angry hand Jardir’s way. “Marchin’ on the hamlets as we speak. Killin’, burnin’, and drivin’ folk from their homes.”

“Not as we speak,” Jardir said. “My people do not fight Sharak Sun in the night.”

“Like it makes a difference to all the folk you’ve thrown to the demons!” Arlen shouted. “Did you know about this?”

Jardir nodded calmly. “It was planned months ago that we would strike Docktown on first snow, though I did not expect the attack to go forward without me.”

Arlen flew across the distance between them. Jardir reached for his spear, but Arlen batted the weapon across the yard and bulled forward, smashing Jardir into a goldwood tree. The trunk was five feet thick, but Renna heard the wood crack as they struck.

Arlen raised a fist, flaring bright with power as he Drew magic into the impact wards on his knuckles. “Do lives mean nothing to you?!”

Jardir looked at the fist, unafraid. “Do it, Par’chin. Strike. Kill me. Doom your own plan to failure. For if you do not, it is as much as admitting I was right.”

Arlen looked at him incredulously. “How’s that?”

Jardir flexed, breaking the hold and driving an open palm into Arlen’s chest so hard he was thrown back several feet before he caught himself. The glare he threw back was terrifying.

’Bout time Arlen stomped some humble into that son of the Core, Renna thought, smirking.

Jardir seemed unconcerned, brushing himself off and straightening his robes. “You are right, Par’chin. Greenlanders, and no doubt more than a few Sharum, are dying at my command. But you are wrong if you believe their lives mean nothing to me. Every life lost is one less for Sharak Ka, and we are outnumbered already.”

“And yet you senselessly …” Arlen began.

“Not senselessly.” Jardir’s voice was still infuriatingly calm. Even his aura shone with righteousness. “The greenlanders are weak, Par’chin. You know it to be true. Weak and divided like stalks of wheat. Sharak Sun is the coming of the scythe, that a grander crop can follow. The coming generation will be spears, ready to stand fast in Sharak Ka. Those lives lost are the price we pay for unity, for in that unity is the strength to save Ala.”

Arlen spat on him. “You arrogant bastard, you don’t know that.”

“And you don’t know that I will be what tips you to victory in the Core.” Jardir wiped the spittle away without comment, though it was clear his patience was thinning. “Yet you brought me here and healed my wounds despite what I’ve done. What I’m doing. Because a part of you knows there is more at stake than a few lives. It is the future of the human race, and we must hold every advantage.”

“What advantage does raping and killing and burning bring?” Arlen demanded. “Making folk bow to a different Creator? How does that make us stronger? Folk in the Hollow are every bit as strong as your Sharum, and I didn’t have to destroy their homes and families to get ’em there.”

“Because Nie did it for you,” Jardir said. “I know the tale of your coming, arriving just before the alagai took the tribe forever, like I once did for the Sharach.”

“Hollowers were just the beginning,” Arlen said. “Thousands have joined the Cutters since.”

“Refugees of my coming,” Jardir said. “How many of your chin would take up the spear had I not driven them from their illusion of safety? You told me when we first met that many of your men would not raise a hand against the alagai even when their families were threatened.”

He squinted, reading something on Arlen’s aura. Renna looked at him, but could not understand it as they did.

Yet.

“Your own father,” Jardir said, nodding as understanding came to him. “Shamed himself, watching as the alagai came for you and your mother.”

Renna might not understand the subtler aspects of auras, but even she could not miss the humiliation and anger that washed across Arlen’s.

Yet there was something in Jardir’s aura, too. Pride. Respect. Her senses sharp in the night, she saw the apple of his throat tighten with emotion as he continued to Know Arlen. “It was you who saved her. Barely old enough for sharaj, and you took to the field like a trained Sharum.”

“Wan’t enough,” Arlen said. “Still lost her. Just not as quick.”

“Do you regret standing in Nie’s path for her?” Jardir asked.

“Not for an instant,” Arlen said.

“This is what it means to be Shar’Dama Ka,” Jardir said. “To make the harsh decisions others cannot. The weak like your father must be shoved aside, that the strong might emerge.”

“Jeph Bales ent weak,” Renna said, drawing both men’s attention to her. “Took his lesson that same night, even if it was fifteen years before the test. When it was me out in his yard, bloody and with demons on my heel, he grabbed a tool and faced them down. Saved my life. You din’t do that, Krasian. Tibbet’s Brook stands tall now, and din’t need half the folk to die to make it happen.”

“Inevera,” Jardir said. “It matters not how people come to join in Sharak Ka, only that they come.” He looked to Arlen. “It was you, Par’chin, who said we were beyond such things now. The strike on Docktown was Abban’s plan, and Everam will deem whether he and Jayan or Lakton’s dockmasters will prove the stronger.”

“Never should have trusted that slimy camel-thief,” Arlen growled.

Jardir chuckled. “So I have said to myself many times over the years. The only thing anyone should trust Abban to do is be Abban. He follows his conscience only until there is profit in ignoring it.”

“Got half a mind to skate over to Docktown and knock him and your son on their asses,” Arlen said.

Jardir face darkened. “Do that, Par’chin, and our pact is broken. Do that, and I will return to the Skull Throne and leave you to your mad scheme.”

Arlen’s lip curled, and both men tensed, ready in an instant to resume fighting. They held the pose a moment, then Arlen shook his head. “We’ll see. Meantime, Ren and I need to see to the folk you’ve put out in the naked night.”

“That is not—” Jardir began.

“Shut it!” Arlen roared, so vehement even Jardir twitched. “It’s night, and I won’t see our brothers and sisters face it alone.”

Jardir nodded. “Of course there is no honor in that. I will summon Shanvah and Shanjat, and we—”

“Will stay right ripping here and guard the prisoner,” Arlen snapped.

“We are not your servants, Par’chin,” Jardir said, “to be ordered to gaol duty.”

“Ent no common gaol,” Arlen said. “You know what we’re holding.”

Jardir stiffened at that. “Alagai Ka.”

Arlen gave a curt nod. “I come back and find less than three of you here guarding, and our pact will indeed be broken.”

Jardir bowed. “Do not allow yourselves to be seen. Save your people in the night, but the Daylight War is no longer ours.”

Arlen scowled, but he nodded, turning to hold a hand out to Renna. She took it, holding tight to him even as they dissipated, as intimate as any connection of flesh. Linked, they slipped down a path to skate together.

Renna skated back to the tower, clumsily solidifying a few inches off the ground. Night after night of Drawing and skating had left her dizzy and drained of magic, insides weak and burning from conducting so much power.

The sudden drop twisted her ankle and sent her stumbling, but something caught her before she hit the ground. She tensed, ready to fight.

“Peace, sister,” Shanvah said. “It is only me.”

Renna shook her head, getting her feet under her and pushing away from the woman’s support. “Since when am I your sister?”

“Since we shed blood together in the tomb of Kaji,” Shanvah said. “We are spear sisters now.”

Her ankle throbbed painfully. Renna tried to heal it, but found she did not have the strength. She tried to Draw more power, but it made her whole body seem aflame. Easier to let the ankle throb.

Renna looked to the horizon. The sky was lightening, but dawn was still an hour away. She needed to feed before then, or she would be useless in the coming day. “That only till sunrise, when we go back to being enemies?”

Shanvah shrugged. “If the Shar’Dama Ka commands me to fight you, I will, Renna vah Harl, but it will not be as I would wish it. I see honor in you and the Par’chin, and I think Everam must have a plan for us.”

“Wish it was that simple,” Renna said.

“It is, and it isn’t,” Shanvah said. “Nothing on Ala is simple, or it would be as Heaven. Everam does not show his plan, but we know it is there.”

“Ay,” Renna agreed, though she did not agree at all. The woman was wasting time she needed to hunt, especially on a sore ankle. She drew her knife. “Gonna hunt a bit. Get my strength back.”

Shanvah nodded. “I will accompany you.”

“Core you will,” Renna snapped.

“You’re exhausted, sister,” Shanvah said. “There is safety in numbers.”

Renna shook her head. “Don’t need a sitter. You’d only slow me down.”

“But we …”

Shanvah’s aura blossomed with genuine hurt, and it made Renna angry. “We’re what? Spear sisters? You think that means a corespawned thing to me when I just spent a week trying to save lives you desert rats put out in the night?”

She grabbed at her vest, showing the deep crimson stains. “I’m covered in innocent blood because of your Shar’Dama Ka, Shanvah. Here, in the ripping night. So forgive me if I ent interested in having you at my back.”

She turned away sharply, storming off into the night without another word.

It was nearing dawn when Renna at last caught sight of her prey. The five of them had hunted the area around the tower down to nothing, and even as she ranged farther, many had already slipped back down to the Core’s embrace to shelter them from the sun.

She had been tracking this demon for several minutes, and saw she was just in time. The field demon had retreated into the shelter of deep grass for the moment of vulnerability when it began to dematerialize. Lesser drones could not do it as quickly as the elite demons—or she herself—and they might as well be asleep for all they could defend themselves when they were in the dissipation trance.

She saw its muscles relax as the trance began and pounced on its back, hooking an arm and her legs around the demon’s midsection as she rolled onto her back. The demon flailed and kicked helplessly as she drove her knife into its chest and pulled down sharply, laying its insides open.

Light began to peek over the horizon, the coreflesh beginning to smoke and sizzle. Desperate, Renna thrust her hands into the open wound, clawing free whatever meat she could find and cramming it into her mouth before the sun could burn it away.

There were several intense moments of messy mastication, and then a spark, as the ichor running down her chin caught fire. She cried out in surprise.

There was a sudden slash, a shining spearpoint cleaving the grass like a scythe. Shanvah stood there, spear raised to attack. But then she started, seeing the demon corpse.

Immediately she leapt back, bowing deeply. “Apologies for not heeding your request, sister, but I was concerned. When you cried out, I thought …”

She looked up. “But of course not. You are Renna vah Harl, and no demon can stand against …”

Her aura was lost in the rising sun, but Shanvah’s eyes told Renna enough. She knew.

“Shanvah, wait …” she began, but the woman turned and raced away.

Everyone was back in the yard by the time Renna made it back, standing in the shadow of the tower. Shanvah was on her knees, head on the ground. Shanjat was holding his spear.

Arlen and Jardir looked ready to fight again, this time once and for all.

All eyes turned to her as she approached. Shanvah leapt to her feet, spear pointed Renna’s way. “She is a servant of Nie!”

“Impossible,” Jardir said. “She stood with us against Alagai Ka himself.”

“She has been corrupted,” Shanvah said. “Before Everam, on my honor and hope of Heaven, I swear, Deliverer. With my own eyes I saw her feasting on the foul meat of the alagai.”

“Impossible,” Jardir said again, pointing to the rising sun. He and the others were still in semidarkness, but Renna stood fully in the light. “How could any servant of Nie stand in Everam radiance if …”

But then he turned sharply, looking at Arlen. He closed the distance between them in a second, grabbing Arlen’s hands as he probed deeper into his aura.

“It’s true,” Jardir whispered. “Everam preserve us, I trusted you, and all along, you served Nie.”

“Corespawn it, stop acting the ripping fool!” Arlen shouted.

“Why else would you profane your body with … !”

Arlen growled, shoving Jardir away so hard Shanjat had to leap out of the way to avoid being hit. Everyone tensed for battle, but Arlen held his ground, making no effort to continue the fight. “You have the stones to ask why?! Night, you think I wanted this?”

He pointed an angry finger at Jardir. “This is your doing, same as the ripping ink.”

“Now it is you being the fool, Par’chin,” Jardir said. “I did not force demon meat down your throat.”

“No, you and Shanjat and the others left me for dead in the corespawned desert,” Arlen snapped, “after beating me, robbing me, and trying to throw me to the demons for having the audacity to win the first night’s alagai’sharak in three thousand years.”

Shanvah looked to Shanjat, eyes wide. “Father, this cannot be true.”

The tip of Shanjat’s ready spear dipped as he turned to her. “It is true, daughter. We dishonored ourselves with what we had to do that night, but the Par’chin had stolen the Spear of Kaji, and could not be allowed to keep it.”

“You parse words worse than any khaffit in the bazaar,” Arlen spat. “No one had seen the spear in over three thousand years. Its power belongs to all humanity, and I brought it to Jardir honorably, to share with you.”

“The Sharum will be silent!” Jardir snapped, his gaze never leaving Arlen. “You parse words, too, Par’chin. None of this explains why you have eaten of this foul meat.”

“Don’t it?” Arlen said. “Said yourself there was no food in Anoch Sun. It was why your people violated that place worse than the mind demons when you came through. Didn’t have time to be respectful. You just wanted to loot the place.”

“I warn you, Par’chin …” Jardir began.

“Don’t deny it,” Arlen said. “Being Shar’Dama Ka means making the big decisions, ay? Then take responsibility for them.”

“I do,” Jardir said evenly.

“Me, too,” Arlen said. “I wanted the secrets of Anoch Sun as much as you did. When I stumbled back to the Oasis of Dawn and warded my flesh, I had enough food to escape the desert …”

“Or return to Anoch Sun,” Jardir finished.

Arlen nodded. “Spent a long time there, studying. Demons were the only thing to eat. Had to survive, I was to pass on what I learned.”

He raised a finger. “But I left the place just like I found it. Bet your people didn’t even notice I’d been there. So which of us is honoring Everam and battling Nie better?”

Jardir sneered. “Speak not of Everam and Nie, Par’chin. You believe in neither.”

“And still better at your religion than you!” Arlen said, crossing his arms.

“You ate alagai meat,” Jardir said. “Do you honestly think you can keep from being corrupted by it?”

Arlen laughed. “You’re such a ripping hypocrite! Your entire life, your rise to power, your conquest, all of it was dictated by alagai hora, and you talk to me of corruption? How in your twisted logic does the voice of Everam come from demon bones?”

Jardir pursed his lips. “I have often wondered that, myself, but their power cannot be denied.”

“Of course not,” Arlen said. “You can see the ripping magic.” He pointed to the spear. “The Spear of Kaji has a demon bone core. So does the crown.

“Magic ent evil, and corelings ent foot soldiers in some eternal space war,” Arlen continued. “Just animals, like us. Animals that spent millions of years living deep in Ala, bathed in the power of the Core. Evolved to absorb and hold some of that power, and we’ve learned to turn it against them. That’s all.”

He held up a warded fist. “Tattoos give me power, but no more than your scars. Real power comes from eating the meat. That’s why I can dissipate and draw wards in the air. Do things you need your spear and crown for, or can’t do at all. Got my own demon bone core now.”

“If they are just animals as you say,” Jardir said, “you risk becoming one of them yourself, if you continue on this course.”

“Know that,” Arlen said. “Ent eaten demon in years, but the power seems here to stay.”

“But you allow your jiwah to risk it, too,” Jardir said.

Arlen laughed again, but it was not a condescending sound this time. His mirth was genuine. “Allow? Have you met Renna Bales? There’s no allowing her.”

“Corespawned right,” Renna said, taking his hand.

Arlen looked at her, love in his eyes, but kept taking to Jardir. “Asked her not to, but she knows what’s at stake, and has been trying to catch up. Thinks I’ll mist down to the Core and try to take on the alagai without her, she doesn’t.”

“Don’t say it like it’s some crazy notion,” Renna said. “Told me yourself it calls to you. Hear it too, now that I’m skating. But that ent a fight we can win alone.”

She expected Jardir to be aghast at the thought of the Core calling them, but he only nodded. “Nie’s call is strong, but indeed, you must resist. All Ala depends upon us. Put your faith in Everam and He will keep you strong.”

Arlen shook his head. “Never been much good at putting faith anywhere but in me and mine.”

Jardir reached out gently, touching Arlen’s chest. “Everam is inside you, my friend. Whether we created Him, or He created us, is irrelevant. He is the Light inside you when all else is dark. He is the Voice that whispers right from wrong. He is the Strength you drew upon in your desert trials. He is the Hope that you carry in this mad scheme.” He smiled. “He is the Stubborn inside you that refuses to admit the truth I bring.”

Arlen smiled. “Grant you that last, at least.”

“Now that the cat’s out, might be we don’t need the prisoner.” Renna said. “There’s a shortcut to down below for all of us.”

Arlen shook his head. “Don’t trust anyone, even myself, to dissipate too close to the Core. Be like dumping a bucket into a river and expecting it to stay upstream.”

Jardir crossed his arms. “Hypocrisy or not, my warriors I will not profane our bodies with alagai meat.”

There were enthusiastic nods from Shanvah and Shanjat, and Renna could see the relief in their eyes.

“So we do it the hard way,” Arlen agreed. “But for that, we need a way to get that ripping demon to talk.”