With serenity came clarity. Each voice grew more distinct. She could attach each to a face. Disembodied belonged to the woman on the far right, her nose slightly crooked. Musical tones tinkled from a man with smoother features than the others, his skin a shade darker, a wry smile on his face. Owned by a woman a hand taller than the other two females, dripping water pattered faster and faster before cutting off as Irmina stared directly at her. The hissing voice was a woman who made a habit of interlocking her fingers as she spoke and whose expression showed no emotion. The last man, thunder, had eyes that reminded her of storm clouds. Their voices dwindled to a faint buzz as Irmina looked from one to the other.
Irmina frowned, her brows knitting as she realized something else. Their voices were inside her head, similar to what she herself did when she connected with beasts to tame them. Touching upon her Gift to control almost any creature, she pushed back against the voices, the minds, and expelled them.
Gasps escaped the Exalted’s lips, and more than one wore wide-eyed expressions of shock. Within moments though, their features became serene.
Emboldened by their faltering, Irmina folded her arms. “This would go easier if I knew your names.” Several sets of hairless eyebrows arched at her statement. “And please stay out of my-”
A hand raised by the man with the stormy eyes cut her off. But the effect wasn’t just from his hand. Something constricted against her throat, preventing her from speaking. She snatched at her Matersense and choked back a yell at what she saw.
Mater boiled around the Exalted in thick bands, undulating, overlapping and in so many strands and colors she was unable to separate each or discern the difference in the essences much less the elements. Elongated strands of Mater stretched from the man’s hand to her throat. As his fingers tightened so did the tendrils around her neck. A stern look from the disembodied woman, and the pressure eased. The woman cocked her head and stared at her counterpart. He sighed, and the elements retreated.
Heart thumping, blood roaring in her ears, Irmina sucked in a breath. Her fear threatened to skitter within the boundaries of the Eye. By sheer force of will, she inhaled deeply several more times before her hand stopped its shaking, and her heartbeat eased.
“Raijin Irmina,” the woman with the disembodied voice said. “I am Exalted Malinda. It is uncommon. No. I will be frank. What you did has not been done in five hundred years. So please pardon Exalted Buneri.” She tilted her head toward the man whose stormy eyes now flashed, his lips curling as he sneered. “This,” Malinda continued, pointing to the younger male in their group, “is Exalted Leukisa.” She motioned to the taller of the other two women. “Exalted Ordelia and this is-”
“I’m Verturi,” hissed the remaining woman, eyes cold and dead.
“Thank you.” Irmina bowed. “I meant no disrespect, but when you’re in my head, I find it hard to think.”
“We understand,” Leukisa said.
“But you must still explain,” began Ordelia.
“Why the Council is alive,” added Malinda.
“As well as Ryne and the one he’s linked to,” finished Buneri.
Face a blank mask, Verturi merely tilted her head to one side.
“The shadeling army attacked as I was about to strike at Ryne. He went to fight them.” Irmina kept her gaze steady and unflinching as she spoke. “Galiana Materialized with Ancel before I could do anything. The remaining Shin did the same for the people who were left.”
“Those traitors are not Shin,” Buneri said. “Never have been. Never will be.”
“Where did she take them?” Malinda asked.
Irmina bowed, making her voice carry the appropriate amount of regret. “I–I don’t know, Exalted.”
Buneri snorted.
“And the others?” Malinda asked.
Irmina glanced up to meet their eyes. “From what I overheard before they departed, they headed to Cahar and the port there.”
“Hmm. How is it then that you managed to take the council?” Ordelia’s lips curved into a slight smile.
Irmina sensed she needed to be extra careful around her. She shrugged. “You saw how many of their Matii are dead near the gates. I managed to defeat the ones responsible for the council before they Forged.”
“Well, at least she gave us that much,” rumbled Buneri with a smirk and slight shake of his head. “But let me guess, Malinda, you will say to allow her to live.”
“She managed to get us the boy’s father,” Malinda said. “Come now, Buneri, you did not expect her to challenge the Eztezian did you?”
“Expectation and orders are two different things.” Buneri folded his arms, placing his hands into the sleeves of his robe. “The question is did she try?”
“What you wanted would have been suicide,” Irmina said, “but I would have tried.”
“Sometimes death is preferable to not making an attempt.” Verturi’s expression remained blank, but a certain glint in her eyes told she expected nothing less.
“And if I died,” Irmina allowed her annoyance to drip from her words, “who would tell you that the man who brought those shadelings was himself a netherling? The very same creature, in fact, that once posed as Ryne’s bodyguard?”
Not only did their expressions change, but their thoughts, their voices rose in a thousand whispers like the rustlings of a reedy field on an especially windy day. Concern, disbelief, but above all, fear skittered across those thoughts. Squeezing her eyes tight, Irmina tried to shove them from her mind. They receded to a buzz but did not completely disappear.
Irmina opened her eyes and studied the Exalted. Brows wrinkled, lips pursed, Buneri waved his hand occasionally as he strived to make some point or another. Of them all, his expression said he was the least concerned. For the most part, Malinda simply nodded. Ordelia and Leukisa seemed to agree on whatever they argued. Verturi made periodic objections. Finally, they appeared to reach a common decision, and all gazes turned to her.
“There’s a way for you to redeem yourself, Raijin Irmina. We know where they fled. We shall send you with a contingent of Pathfinders and High Shin to capture them.”
Chapter 29
Eyes burning, shoulders so sore she could barely lift an arm, Galiana monitored her two patients from where she sat on a slab of rock. The campfire crackled and danced like a spirit of flame, throwing shadows across Ancel’s and Ryne’s features. Periodically, she fed the two men a kinai potion enhanced with sweet fleshberries to help with the mending process. Both their faces appeared serene as if in some pleasant dream state. Their chests rose and fell evenly. At one point, Ryne had taken several sharp, indrawn breaths. Beyond that, both were healing fine.
Pinpricks of dawn inched through the cave’s yawning mouth. The interior smelled of horse, smoke, and unwashed bodies coupled with a daggerpaw’s musky stench. Over in a corner near a small spring, their mounts stood with their heads down. Charra sat next to Ancel, golden eyes aglow even more so with the fire. Poking a branch into the flames, Mirza studied his friend. Whenever he glanced her way, he scowled. She shook her head.
“I would not do anything to harm them,” she said. “I understand your dislike for us, for any Ashishin, but I raised you, young man. You have known me long enough to realize I am nothing like those who took your mother. Keep this up and I will set you on my leg and paddle your ass like the child you’re acting.”
Mirza’s expression became defiant. His eyes were beads.
“If you hate us so much, why choose to become a Dagodin?” She needed to find some way through his stubbornness. He was as mule-headed as his father, Devan.
“What choice did I have with what we face?”
She nodded. “True, but I sense there’s more to your decision.” Despite her proximity to the campfire, the thoughts of what she witnessed the night before sent chills through her body. Shadelings, daemons, vasumbrals, and netherlings. Knowing there would be worse to come did not help. All the while the world was mired in petty squabbles. She hoped Jerem was faring better than her with their other plans. Huddling into her cloak, she resisted the urge to shiver.