"You haven't seen the things I have, Nyori. I am afraid. Not for myself, but for all of creation. This is so much bigger than the Reaver. Bigger than the akhkharu. I have been a fool, enveloped by my hatred while strangers in the night light fires to burn our world. It is coming, Nyori. It is so close now, so close…" He shivered.
Nyori laid a hand on his arm, searching his eyes. "What is it, Marcellus?"
He shut his eyes, but images of fire blazed across his vision regardless.
"The end. I have to control what lies inside of me, Nyori. I have to use the Reaver. Use it to destroy Alaric and save our world from his clutches. It will be a start, at least. The beginning of a war against someone much more powerful than he and his akhkharu combined. I have seen him, Nyori. I have stared into his mirrored eyes and seen our destruction."
"I don't understand. Who is it that you saw?"
Marcellus winced and touched his head. He could almost feel the waves of force that had so easily violated his mind. His voice shuddered in a hoarse whisper.
"Someone terrible. Someone that needs to be stopped."
Chapter 41: Rhanu
"Gahiji…!"
The voice was soft, familiar, calling him by his birth name. Not the name given him by the fearful. It was before the temple, before the rage. Rhanu thought he was beyond pain. Beyond death.
He saw Tameri's face again; her eyes wild with terror when the priests of Lektor came for her. Rhanu struggled against the arms holding him back, his teeth clenched in impotent rage.
"Tameri! I won't let them take you. I won't—"
The pain was a slow fire, coursing through his body atop rivers of agony. It pulled him away. Away from his sister and the fate he was unable to prevent.
He saw her again after he arrived too late. Her skin had turned the color of ash, and webbed by purple veins. The life had been drained from her without a single scratch.
"What have you done to my sister, you butchers? I will kill you, all of you!" Something exploded inside his chest. The fire spread across his limbs as they shifted in a distorted fashion, elongating and sprouting thick black fur. He hardly noticed it over the howl that ripped from his throat, a bestial roar that shook the rafters.
The soldiers dropped their weapons and fled from him, screaming. He snarled and pursued, vision red with rage…
The pain was too great. It was flickering lightning, a blade of fire in his heart. It took him, pulled him away…
RHANU OPENED HIS EYES.
She was with him. The woman with wolf eyes. The Shama. What was her name?
Ayna.
She had her hands on his shoulders, as though trying to hold him down.
"Calm yourself. You have been delirious. You have a high fever and newly healed wounds. I have brought you away from the hand of death."
"Why?"
She blinked.
Rhanu stared at the canvassed roof. "Do you not understand? I wish to die. My family awaits me in Janadaus. All whom I love are already there. You should have let me go to them." His strength sagged as his head dropped and his eyes dimmed. "You should have let me go…"
"I am sorry," he thought he heard her whisper. "But your fight has only begun."
Flickers. He drifted between the realms of sleep and awakening. Sometimes he dreamed. Other times he heard voices.
"He will be fine," Ayna said. "With much rest, he will be himself again. He was as close to death as any man could ever be, but he is strong. He will heal." She sounded exhausted. "I will leave him with you for now. When he wakes, I will send food to him, for he is still very weak and will need to regain his strength."
A gust of cold air swept in as she quickly opened the door and stepped outside.
He opened his eyes. Han and Meshella stood beside him. He gave them a weak attempt at a smile. "It seems Janadaus is denied me again."
"It was not your time." Han casually sat in one of the chairs. "And I would be very bored without you, Rhanu. No one is better at finding the kuang-shi. These others would wander in circles."
Rhanu tried to laugh but found the effort too great. "Has Marcellus returned?"
Meshella nodded. "Yes. He has plans to turn these battles into a real war. He…he wants to leave as soon as possible."
Rhanu nodded. "All this time he was in our company, and we had no clue. How could a man come by such power?"
There was no answer from Han. Meshella smiled as she glanced at him. He was sound asleep.
"He kept a vigil outside the door all night. Let him sleep."
"What I would not have given to have such powers when they took my sister. I could have saved her then." His hands clenched tightly. "I could have saved her."
Meshella placed her hand on his. "Remember what you told me when I joined with you?' Don't let such thoughts poison your mind or blacken your heart, because that way lies madness.' I won't let you leap into that abyss either, Rhanu. You've come too far to sink into despair now."
"As you say, Meshella." Rhanu squeezed her hand. "How…how many died?"
She sighed. "Almost all our number. They have achieved their honor. More will join the cause."
Dust flecks sparkled in the streams of gold from the window. Rhanu watched them dance in the air as he gathered his thoughts. "I once thought our cause to be just, Meshella. That the path I led these men on was a way of finding peace. But it is only a way of finding death. Can I justify my actions when they died while I live?"
"We all made a choice, Ra. You are not responsible for how we choose to meet our end." She patted his chest and smiled. "I will let them know you are fine. You get some rest."
"I've rested enough." To his embarrassment, she gently pushed him back as easily as a child. She tempered the action with a smile.
"Rest."
WHEN HE AWOKE, HE IMMEDIATELY noticed something had changed. It was quiet, as if he'd been cut off from the world. The noise and hubbub of the Rhoma camp were gone. The only sounds were the wind caressing the snow-capped treetops and the chirping of birds. He threw back the thick hide blankets. His clothes were neatly stacked on a stool beside him.
When he strode outside and looked around, he realized the reason for the silence. The caravan and all with it had left, their trail evident in the soft snow.
He sensed a presence.
A white wolf stood as if keeping guard. She turned her head — for some reason he was sure it was female — then trotted off into the nearby woods.
He winced as he limped over to where his gear was bundled in a wagon beside the tent. How long have I been lying there? I must have been out a long time if Meshella and Han decided to leave me behind. He picked up his wakiza.
"You are not yet ready for that, Rhanu."
He turned to where Ayna stood, as beautiful as the nature around them.
"Where did everyone go?"
"Marcellus is determined to gather arms against Alaric, the akhkharu king." She held up her velvet skirts as she walked through the snow. "The remainder of your band went with him. They have seen what he is, and they believe he can win."
"Then I will join them." He tried to pick up his gear, but gritted his teeth at the sudden pain in his side.
"You are still unfit for such travel." Her voice was gentle yet firm. "Your wounds were grievous. Even with my skills, you will need time. You will stay behind and mend; then I will take you where you need to go. Your friends did not want to leave you behind, but I convinced them it was for the best."