The Annals of Orme: Book One

Chapter 11

Zaidna

The Empire of Chalei

Lanae Palace

The hour was late, and Lanae Palace was dark and quiet. Anoth was quite familiar with the patrol patterns of the guards, especially their propensity for mid-patrol naps. The dalanais had grown unbelievably lazy during centuries of peace, and Anoth had no trouble remaining undetected as he scaled the walls of the vast complex and entered the gardens surrounding the central palace.

He looked around casually before settling down on a raised mound, which was surrounded by an assortment of ferns, allowing him a clear view of the palace through the fronds. He was counting on the heat of the night to draw Sorai out for her usual evening stroll. If he timed it right and was very quick, he could snatch her up and return to Zalas and Davim with the least risk of interference. However, he was prepared for this mission to take several days, and those fools were instructed to wait for him in the jungle for however long it took.

Of course, there was still the matter of the witnesses. His decision to disobey Verahi by coming first to Chalei would certainly result in chastisement at minimum, but whatever punishment he ultimately received would be well worth it. Anoth would have Sorai at his side the very moment Verahi’s body was restored, ensuring that there could be no delay in a lawful marriage oath.

Anoth squinted as he looked up toward the lit window of Sorai’s bedchamber on the palace’s third floor. There was no movement. Damn it all. It would be much quicker to storm the palace to retrieve his bride, killing any who challenged him, but he knew it wouldn’t be wise to risk the kada coming into play.

He also had to consider the oaths of Zaidna. He was already an intruder in his old home, and breaking those oaths would severely increase the chances and magnitude of any retribution by his enemies. “I can be as patient as I need to be,” he determined out loud.

“I’ve been patient for fish, too!”

Anoth’s surprise turned into rage as he looked over his shoulder to see Rao, Sorai’s stupid pet, crouching behind him.

“You came back!” the sazi exclaimed. “You told me you would be back in three days. I waited here for you but you never came. But I kept coming back here every night and here you are!”

Anoth tolerated most creatures native to Zaidna as the dumb beasts they were, but sazis were insufferable. Were it not for the information about Sorai that the little wretch shared with him, he would have crushed that furry skull beneath his heel long ago. He forced his mouth into an unnaturally friendly smile. “Hello, sazi.”

Rao let loose a musical trill, scuttling beneath Anoth’s bare arm to sit on his lap. “I’m so happy you came back after all! I missed you!”

“I missed you, too,” Anoth lied as he stroked Rao’s neck, all the while itching to snap it.

“I gave Mistress Sorai your gift,” Rao declared proudly. “She says it’s her favorite. She wears it every single day!”

“I’m glad,” Anoth replied, relaxing his grip somewhat. Of course she loved it.

“So,” the little beast continued, flicking his tail back and forth. “Do I get my fish now?”

“Perhaps in a few minutes,” Anoth replied. “Tell me, Rao, what is your mistress and master doing this evening?”

“Master Tashau is in his study working late, and Mistress Sorai is in her room.” Rao scratched behind one of his long ears with a hind leg.

“Is she alone?”

Rao blinked. “She was chatting with Mistress Kia, and then I got bored. Mistress Sorai likes to talk about babies all the time. I wish she could just lay clutches of eggs like us sazis—more babies and less work.”

Anoth saw red for a moment. “Did that son of a whore get her pregnant again?” he hissed, grabbing hold of Rao tightly around the middle.

Rao yelped, his fur and feathers standing on end. “I didn’t know Kia was a whore! What is a whore?” He wriggled out of Anoth’s grip, shaking himself to smooth out his coat. “Mistress isn’t pregnant yet. But she whines about it so much to my master; she’ll probably mate soon.”

This was unacceptable. Seeing Sorai’s body deformed with child twice before had been excruciating. She would not spend one more night with her worthless excuse for a husband, and this foolish creature was going to help ensure that she left this place for good.

“My little friend,” Anoth murmured as he reached out to scratch beneath Rao’s wings. As expected, Rao growled appreciatively. “Do you remember how you’ve wanted to introduce me to your owners for years?”

“Oh, yes!” Rao replied.

“Well, I’m ready now.”

Rao gasped and stared up at him with wide, vacuous eyes. “Oh, do you mean it? Is it true?”

“Yes, but only your mistress at first. Tashau is much too big and scary for me to meet,” Anoth insisted, holding up his hands in a dramatic display.

“Oh, but he’s so nice to me! I’m sure he’d scratch behind your ears, too, if you ask nicely!”

Anoth tried not to glower. “No, I’m not ready; I need time to work up the courage. I only want to meet your mistress, and it must be in private. Not even you may be present. I want to tell her personally that I was the one who gave her the gift she loves so much.”

“What? But why can’t I be there?” Rao whined.

“You won’t miss much. I promise. Find a way to bring your mistress to me tonight, all by herself, and I will make you the biggest fish you’ve ever seen. You’ll be too busy feasting to care about what we’re doing.”

Rao calmed and nodded his gluttonous little head, the talk of fish making him visibly drool. “Yes! Yes, I’ll do it! I’ll be right back!” In the next moment Rao was gone, darting down the mound and through the ferns.

What a stupid sazi.

***

“Are you planning to bring Faro with you when you travel to Judath?” Kia asked as she gazed adoringly at her grandson, who sat upon the floor pretending to make his toy sazi fly.

“Well, that’s the hope,” Sorai replied, beckoning to Faro with her fingers. He should have been in bed a long time ago, but Kia, Tashau’s mother, loved to gossip late into the night. “I worry a little about him traveling so far with us, but I’m sure he’ll enjoy it.”

“Oh, I’ll miss him while he’s gone.” Kia clasped her hands and cooed as Faro dropped his toy and toddled over to Sorai.

Sorai gathered him on her lap and squeezed him tight. His soft black hair smelled sweet like honey.

“Promise me you won’t let any of the women there pressure you into arranging a marriage for him. At least not yet! Such arrangements must be done properly and with care. Of course, look at you and Tashau. Your mother and I were a little too capricious with you, but it’s just a lucky thing you two turned out to be the perfect match.”

Sorai stifled a chuckle. She had no intention of arranging a marriage for her son based on the cuteness of his playmates, as dalanais were often inclined to do. She was determined to choose Faro’s potential brides when he was much older, and with a great deal of consideration for his personal tastes. “You needn’t worry about a thing. He won’t be betrothed for a good long while. But fending off propositions from the other mothers will be difficult, I’m sure.”

Kia rolled her eyes. “Women! They’re all so competitive. You know, I’m glad Naltena did away with that nasty plural husband business. Can you imagine how desperate the noblewomen would all be if they were still trying to arrange for their daughters to marry several husbands at a time? Handsome little boys like Faro would be quite in demand.”

“It was a barbaric practice,” Sorai mumbled. She could never put another man above Tashau, let alone manage more than one husband.

“Well, I can see why it was done.” Kia leaned back against the settee where she sat and crossed one long leg over the other. “If our men were always fertile like men from the other races, things might have been different.”

Sorai’s eyes narrowed, thinking of the infertile cycles of dalanai males, which could last for years. “Well, I suppose that makes sense,” she groused. “It’s unfair that men have all the say in when a woman can become pregnant. Tashau sleeps in another room if he spots a single hair growing from the tip of his tail.”

“Am I sensing resentment?” Kia asked. She seemed amused.

Sorai frowned dourly and glanced down at her son’s head. He had drifted off to sleep in her arms. “Oh, no. Of course not. I would never resent Tashau for that.” And yet, the part of her that longed for more children did resent Tashau. He was careful—too careful—whenever he started his fertile cycle. During those times, he wouldn’t even lay a hand on her, keeping himself distant until all the hair had fallen out of his tail in due course. She knew his motivations were pure, but it wasn’t her fault that her body couldn’t withstand the rigors of pregnancy. After seasons of forced bed rest, giving birth to Faro had caused her to hemorrhage badly, and even now she couldn’t bear to think of her first son, who had only lived a few hours after a painful, premature birth.

“I never had any children other than Tash,” Kia added kindly. “You put yourself under too much pressure. It’s his right, but Tashau would never take a mistress even if he wanted another son, so don’t fret.”

Sorai shut her eyes, forcing herself to smile. She would not mope; she would be thankful for what she had and not feel cheated. “It’s not so bad,” she agreed. “We’ve been blessed with Faro. I’ll be happy so long as I have him and Tashau.”

“There’s a good girl.” Kia clucked, nodding. “You have nothing to worry about. Faro is strong and healthy, and born beneath a high enough house. He will grow up to become a fine emperor.”

“That’s all I hope.” Sorai’s eyes drifted over to the kada of Chalei, which was held erect in an ornate stand at the other end of the sitting room. The sapphire at its tip flickered along with the light of the fire, dimmed only a little by the growing layer of dust she knew was coating it.

Tashau was the rightful owner of the kada, and no matter where he was, he was always supposed to keep it at his side, but he had staunchly refused to touch it since the death of his father, only taking it up for the triennial noble summit in Judath. Because the previous emperor’s death was premature and sudden, Tashau never had the chance to complete his training with the kada and showed no interest in continuing now.

Would Faro turn out like his father? He might become emperor, but without training in the kada, he would lack the ability to defend his people if the need arose. Granted, peace had reigned among the high races for centuries now, so there wasn’t much fear of inter-continental conflict, even if the engstaxis weren’t the most trustworthy. There were the coastal raids, but the wardens seemed to have them at least somewhat in hand. If the attacks were made by padus, like many people suspected, Sorai wasn’t sure if a kada would make any difference.

She looked down at her sleeping child. “I should probably put him to bed.”

“Here, I’ll take him,” Kia offered, standing up.

Sorai passed Faro over, and both she and Kia exchanged silent smiles before Kia turned and stepped lightly out of the suite.

As soon as the door closed, Sorai moved into her bedroom, fell back on her bed, and stared up at the silver panels that made up the domed ceiling. She remained in that position until she felt her tail growing numb beneath the weight of her body, then rolled to her side for relief. Oh, to be an eshtan, with beautiful brown skin and no tail. She wrapped her arms around a pillow, intent on dozing.

She had nearly drifted off when a loud bang, followed by the sound of frantic scratching, caused her to sit up with a start. She twisted around and saw Rao hanging halfway through the window, clambering for purchase with his hind legs. “Rao, you silly thing. What are you doing?”

“Mistress!” Rao grunted. “Help me!” His nails left huge gouges in the window frame. Tashau would probably kill him for it.

Sorai scooted across the bed on her knees and reached out, snatching Rao by his forelegs and pulling him up and over the windowsill. “Did you try to jump over from a tree?” she asked, setting him down beside her. His fur bristled as she ran a hand down his spine.

“Yes!” Rao exclaimed as he slinked onto her lap and bumped his forehead against her chin. “I’m quite agile.”

Sorai sighed and stroked his shiny wings. “Did you come to say goodnight to me?”

“Well, I’m bored, and there is nothing for me to do. Would you come outside with me and play?” Rao stood on his hind legs and placed his paws on Sorai’s shoulders, leaning in close and stamping her nose with all the moisture coating his.

“It’s too late to play. Why didn’t you ask me earlier?”

“Well, you and Kia were busy,” he purred.

Sorai rolled her eyes. “You’re going to have to wait until tomorrow,” she said, brushing his paws off her shoulders.

“But won’t you at least walk with me? It’s so much cooler outside than it is inside,” Rao persisted.

She caught him around his middle and set him on the floor. “You’ll have to wait. I was about to go to bed,” she insisted, much firmer this time.

“No! No! I’m so hungry!” Rao shrieked. His legs went limp like wet strings of yarn, causing him to flop to the floor with a thud.

Exasperated and confused, Sorai leaned forward and scooped the thrashing sazi up in her arms. “Listen, Rao, if you’re that hungry, there’s probably some food for you in your dish if you haven’t already eaten it all.” She started to carry him out of the bedroom, intent on shoving him out of her suite altogether.

Rao’s struggles only increased in violence. “No! Don’t throw me out! I want you to come outside with me!” He suddenly turned on Sorai and chomped down on the chain of the necklace Tashau had given her for her Naming Day, yanking it taut.

Sorai gasped as she felt the chain snap and dropped Rao to the floor. He landed on his feet and zipped between her legs and back into the bedroom. She grabbed at her neck with both hands to feel for the necklace, but found only skin. She spun around and hurried after him as he jumped from the bed to the window frame. “You little brat!” she yelled. “You give me back my necklace!”

She caught hold of the end of his tail, but he was shedding so much and moving so fast that she was left with only a fistful of fur. Rao took the opportunity to take a flying leap out the window and onto a tree limb just beyond her reach. She gripped the windowsill in fury as Rao looked over a winged shoulder back at her, allowing her to see the jade pendant dangling from his mouth by its chain. “You get back here!” Sorai hissed, hoping no one else could hear her.

Rao’s mouth curled into a mischievous sneer. He looked almost evil with the moonlight reflecting silver from his pupils. “Come and get me!” he called through clenched teeth.

Sorai gasped again. “You get back here now, or I’ll have Tash swat you!”

“No!” Rao singsonged cheerfully. He trotted across the branch and shimmied down the tree.

Sorai cursed loudly then rushed out of her suite and into the open gallery, her blue skirts caught up in one hand. She was going to thrash the little beast, she thought as she flew down two flights of stairs to reach the palace’s ground level. Ignoring the moist grass beneath her bare feet, she bolted out of the courtyard and toward the tree Rao had descended.

Beneath the tree, Rao was standing in a square of lamplight streaming down from the window above. As soon as he saw her approaching, he darted down a path that led to the gardens.

“Rao! This isn’t funny!” Every time she thought she had lost him, he would poke his head out from the bushes, goading her further, as though he were playing a game of tag.

Finally, Sorai was face to face with the far wall of the palace complex, with no sazi in sight. “Rao, come out!” she cried. She paced around the small clearing between the ferns, hunting for Rao until a faint sparkle in the grass caught her eye. Her necklace! She heaved a sigh and stooped low, only to find that a link in the chain had been snapped when it was wrenched from her neck. “Oh, Rao,” she fumed.

***

Anoth heard a crashing sound in the leaves behind him. He looked back to see Rao sitting on his haunches, breathless and smug.

“I did it, Fishman! I got my mistress outside!” Rao exclaimed.

A thin smile spread across Anoth’s lips. Had he known it would be this easy, he would have done this much sooner. “Where is she?”

“Um, well, I had to take the necklace you gave her, but she followed me! I left it right over by the wall at the end of that path there. She really seemed to want it back, so you’ll find her there.” Rao extended an open paw expectantly. “I did what you asked. Can I have my fish now?”

Anoth shrugged. “A trade is a trade.” He shifted focus and effortlessly weaved the small, vibrating shadows that appeared into a large fish with red and silver scales. The fish floated momentarily in the air before dropping thickly to the ground.

Rao squealed in delight, snatching it up in his paws. “I’ve never seen this kind of fish before!”

“No, you wouldn’t have. But you’ll see more like it shortly.” Anoth gathered more of the primal matter into a dense ball of energy and took careful aim. The brainless sazi was so preoccupied with his fish that he would never see it coming.

“Rao! You broke my necklace!”

Anoth flinched, his energy ball instantly dissipating, as he heard Sorai’s distant scream of rage.

“You come out here right now!” Sorai’s voice neared quickly.

“Eep!” Rao gulped. Before Anoth had the chance to fully react, the sazi had chomped down on his fish and disappeared with it into the night.

Anoth stood and stalked down the mound, following Sorai’s incensed shouts. He finally found her in the middle of a clearing, an ivy-draped stone wall standing behind her. She was bent low, clutching his jade necklace in her fist. Now was the time to make her his, but he would need to be quick.

He parted the leaves, intent on stunning her with a pattern, but she wheeled around before he could prepare it, her triangular ears twitching at the rustling of the leaves. Their eyes met for the first time, and he knew he couldn’t hurt her while she looked upon him. For a moment, they both stood frozen and unmoving.

Finally, Sorai took a step back, and Anoth willed himself forward. He had expected her to melt to her knees in veneration, instantly recognizing his divinity, but instead her eyes showed only fear and distrust. Perhaps she was confused by the bandana he wore around his forehead to hide his ears and tattoos.

Sorai swallowed visibly. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

“Forgive me for startling you, Empress,” Anoth soothed. “Do you . . . not recognize me?”

“Are you here with one of the provincial lords? Have you lost your way?” Sorai straightened herself, presumably to regain her regal air. “This section of the garden is meant only for members of the imperial family. If the guards see you here, you would be in trouble.”

“My apologies!” Anoth gasped, feigning ignorance. So, she still thought him a stranger. He reached his hand up to his bandana to reveal himself, certain she’d know him at once, but thought better of it.

Sorai stepped forward, drawing close enough for him to take in the scent of her perfume. He recognized it from all the items Rao had stolen for him in the past, but to smell it now, floating directly from her skin, left him feeling intoxicated.

“If you go down this path, it will take you back to the palace.” Sorai gestured to her left. “Take a right at the path’s end and you can find your way back to the guest wing.”

“You’re kind to direct me, Empress,” Anoth said. He extended an arm, hoping she might take his hand and lead him down the path, but instead she just smiled.

“Have a good evening,” Sorai said pleasantly, before she brushed lightly past him to leave without another word.

Anoth’s arm fell slack at his side. This was not going according to plan. She should have thrown herself into his arms, begging to be taken away from this place. He would need to be more bold. “Sorai,” he called out.

She whirled around and stared at him in surprise. She was clearly not used to being addressed so informally.

“I’m sorry Rao ruined my gift to you. I will give you another.” Anoth bowed his head humbly.

Sorai gasped in obvious confusion, looking at the necklace she held. Anoth was upon her before she could react any further, one hand wrapped around her throat and the other pressed firmly against her mouth. She dropped the necklace to the grass and let loose a muffled wail, reaching up to dig her nails into his wrist. Her struggles only angered him further. He tightened his grip, causing her to choke, and shoved her hard against a tree.

“There will be no more screaming,” Anoth warned as he eased off her throat. Beneath his other palm, he could feel her lips tremble in horror, while her chest began to heave with silent sobs against his forearm. It was a typical Naltite response. How disappointing. “No harm will come to you as long as you are quiet. Please don’t try to escape; I’d hate to have to hurt you.” Anoth’s free hand slipped to the back of her head, where he gripped a fistful of her hair.

As Sorai’s spasmodic sobs caused her to wheeze, a pang of compassion pricked Anoth’s conscience. They had to move quickly and quietly out of the palace complex, but he did not wish her to suffer unnecessarily. In a momentary bout of kindness, he removed the hand that was over her mouth, allowing her to breathe in deeply. She repaid his compassion by letting loose a high-pitched shriek.

***

Rao leaned forward to rip another chunk of flesh from his fish when a scream shattered the calm around him. He hunched over his meal for a moment. It sounded like his mistress!

“Mistress? Fishman?” he called tentatively as he poked his head through the ferns. Hearing no reassurance, he wiped the fish juice from his mouth and crept out into the open. He sniffed the air, then darted in the direction of Sorai’s scent, hurrying across the path he had led her down, and crashed through a shrub. There, he discovered his mistress on her knees, entirely helpless as Fishman towered above her with his hands wrapped around her throat.

“Oh, no!” Rao gulped behind his paw before scrambling back into the shrub. Fishman was staring at Sorai the same way Rao liked to stare at rodents he was planning to eat. Why was Fishman doing this?

Shaking with fear and worry, Rao turned tail and tore back down the path. Propelled by adrenaline, he reached the palace much quicker than he expected. But the spacious building was almost completely dark. Everyone had slept through Sorai’s screams. Now what would he do? He was much too small to stop Fishman on his own.

Finally, he saw a small square of light across the courtyard, on the palace’s second floor. A lamp was still burning within his master’s study—Tashau must still be awake! But there was no tree to climb and jump from to grant him entrance. If Sorai was to be saved, he would have to fly up to the window to hunt for his master. “Oh, wings, I promise I’ll lose the extra weight I’ve packed on if you please work for me, just this once!” he begged as he looked back at his ragged, molting wings.

He took a step or two back and charged forward, flapping his wings fiercely. He left a trail of feathers and fluff in his wake as he leapt up onto the ledge of a fountain and jumped as high as he could manage. The weight of his body pulled him down, but he beat his wings frantically to keep himself airborne. He couldn’t give up—Sorai might die! “Please, wings, just a little more!” he yowled.

As if in response to his plea, his spread feathers caught hold of a gush of salty air, which lifted him enough that he was just able to catch the windowsill with his claws. He climbed up, intent on bounding into the study, but met a faceful of glass. Through the fur squished in his eyes, he saw Tashau sitting on the floor at his writing desk, where he was scribbling on parchment with a conical ink shell.

“Master!” Rao screeched. He saw Tashau’s ears twitch up and down, but the thick windowpane must have muffled his cries too much. He immediately took to beating and scraping at the glass, startling Tashau enough that he stopped with his writing and stood.

An instant later, Tashau’s manservant appeared at the window and flung open the hinged sashes, causing Rao to lose his footing and nearly fall. Luckily, the servant was quick and snatched Rao up by the scruff of his neck.

“Rao, what are you doing?” Tashau demanded. He made an irritated motion for his servant to place Rao on the floor.

As soon as the servant dropped him, Rao jumped on Tashau’s writing desk, tipping a bottle of ink all over a pile of papers. “Master, you have to do something! Fish—I mean—there’s somebody outside hurting Mistress!”

Tashau tensed. “What?”

“You have to help her! I don’t know where the guards are!” Rao cried. Tears of panic were pouring down his face. “He’s going to kill her!”

Tashau backed away from his desk and beckoned to his servant before pointing to the door. “Go and find the guards immediately! Wake the whole palace if you must! Rao, show me the way!”

***

Anoth finally released Sorai’s throat when she stopped struggling. She fell back amidst barking coughs.

“Please, let me go!” she wheezed, her voice now too hoarse to scream out. “I-I have a husband and a child!”

“No!” Anoth snarled, envy flooding his mind. How could she look right at him and deny him? He was a god! Where was the love—the adoration? Frustrated, he yanked her up onto her bare feet. “You’re going to be my wife! Mine!”

Sorai flew into a weak but hysterical flurry, proceeding to slap and kick him, each strike doing no damage except to his ego.

“I shouldn’t have to break you like some common thrall!” Anoth bellowed as he shook her, so overcome by his desire to dominate her that the blow to his blind side came as a total surprise. He staggered and fell hard to the ground, the taste of grass suddenly stinging his tongue.

“Tashau!” Sorai cried as Anoth pushed himself up to his hands and knees.

Damn it. Anoth looked over his shoulder to see the emperor of Chalei standing behind him. “Your aim is decent,” Anoth said, wiping his jaw with the back of his fist as he slowly rose. The surprise attack would have crippled any mortal. It appeared that Tashau was well trained in physical arts.

“You made a mistake by laying a hand on my wife!” Tashau snarled as he moved between Sorai and Anoth. A simplistic offensive pattern appeared at his fingertips.

A chuckle skittered from Anoth’s throat. “You are brave or foolish to come here without your kada.”

“My kada?” The pattern Tashau held flickered momentarily.

Anoth regarded Tashau with a bent eyebrow and withdrew the curved dagger from his belt. “No matter. Kada or no kada, I’m going to kill you now and take your wife as my own.”

Sorai cried out in alarm, and Rao, who had been clutched tightly in her arms, darted from them and into the ferns.

“Coward! Make the match even—throw down the knife!” Tashau challenged, still charging his pattern with one hand.

“An even match? If it will make you feel secure, use this!” Anoth threw the dagger, the blade slicing through the air and straight at Tashau’s heart.

Sorai screamed and covered her eyes, rushing back to hide behind a tree, while Tashau dove out of the way, the knife slicing a hole through his sleeve. “Bastard!” he yelled before jumping back to his feet. The pattern swirling about his fingers was lost.

“If it’s a fair fight you want, the dagger is yours,” Anoth pointed at it. “But even with a weapon you have no chance. You’re impotent against me in battle, though perhaps not as much as you are with your wife.”

Tashau’s face reddened with rage. “Don’t you mock me!” He lunged at Anoth, fist cocked back.

Anoth easily blocked or dodged every strike, laughing as each blow flew predictably by. “You should have used the dagger.” He casually found an opening and backhanded Tashau, causing him to reel back and stumble to the ground with a sharp yell. Fighting with mortals was too easy—like flicking gnats. “Get up!” Anoth crowed.

Tashau plucked the dagger from the ground, springing back to his feet and rushing forward, slicing and stabbing.

Anoth evaded every lightning-quick move with ease, slapping his frenzied opponent for sport every time he came close. “Pathetic! I’ll have your wife stripped and pinned beneath me the moment you’re dead!”

Though breathing hard and visibly bruised, Tashau snarled like a savage and dashed in close again, swinging the dagger with surprisingly renewed speed. Anoth laughed and backed up a step, preparing a pattern to finish him off, but all at once the sound of rent fabric and flesh met his ears, and pain leapt through his body. The dagger had finally struck its mark, tearing straight through his tunic and lacerating his chest. He’d been careless. Never in all his years had he been scratched in battle with a mortal. Only Naltena had been able to draw his blood before. To think that his carelessness had allowed this insect to even touch him made Anoth’s very bones crackle with rage.

Killing Tashau with ormé alone would not satisfy him now. He wanted to hear Tashau’s blood splatter the ground and revel in the visceral sensation of his death. Of course, the dagger was in Tashau’s possession, but with a body comprised of refined matter, Anoth didn’t need one to pierce through this mortal’s soft flesh.

Anoth’s hand flexed, knuckles popping, and he leapt and swiped at Tashau with splayed fingers, intent on severing the whelp’s jugular and bathing in his blood. But Tashau ducked away from the slicing fingernails just in time, leaving Anoth with only a lock of dalanai hair for his effort. This was a skilled and nimble mortal, but he couldn’t hope to survive much longer.

Tashau quickly formed an array of thin ice blades, which he shot at Anoth like arrows, but his attempts were weak and amateurish. Anoth smashed each bolt with a flick of his wrist, turning them back into spiraling flecks of primal matter. A moment later, Anoth turned his fingers upward, causing the ground beneath Tashau to crack and buckle.

When Tashau fell to his rear, Anoth tackled him hard, catching his wrist and wrenching it, forcing the dagger to fall. He then struck Tashau in the belly, eliciting a most satisfying scream of agony as his fingers dug into the little worm’s gut like a fan of knives.

“No!” Sorai wailed, rushing out from behind her tree. She jumped onto Anoth’s back and pummeled him with her fists in vain. He simply tossed her aside like a cloth doll.

Anoth stabbed his fingers through Tashau’s gut again and would have continued to do so all night long had he not heard the shouting of the guards. They were very close, and while he could easily dispatch them, he wouldn’t risk Sorai’s safety. He plucked the dagger from the ground, listening as that damnable sazi led the guards on. Cursing his luck, he left Tashau to bleed to death as he went to retrieve his bride, yanking her up by her hair.

“S-stop!”

Anoth looked back and scowled. Somehow Tashau had managed to pull himself up to stand, despite the blood pouring from his wounds in thick torrents.

Anoth tightened his grip on the struggling Sorai and lifted his other hand, palm facing Tashau. The air sizzled at the tips of Anoth’s fingers, making an awful crack upon the pattern’s completion. It blew Tashau off his feet and hurled him against a tree, which splintered on impact. Tashau fell in a silent heap.

Sorai howled and tried to tear herself free, but Anoth maintained his hold on her hair. “No! You killed him!”

“I’m sure he’ll be missed,” Anoth muttered. Verahi would be satisfied with this turn of events. Anoth may have deviated from the original plan, but this emperor’s death would be a warning to the other empires. Neither he nor Verahi were to be defied. Anoth looked down at Sorai for a moment, then lightly tapped her temple with a finger. The pattern at his fingertip took immediate effect, and she fell limp. He threw her body over his shoulder and rushed to the southwest wall of the palace complex, scaling up and over it with ease. In the distance behind him, he could hear the sazi’s mournful cries.