Chapter Two

Your powers will come.

Rhenna sat on an outcropping of rock on a barren hill, gazing across the valley at the glittering speck that was Karchedon. Early morning sun beat down on her head. No breeze stirred this scorched place where even the city's fat and glossy livestock did not venture. Yet the fertile croplands nestled between the hills seemed untouched by the scouring storm of dust that had driven the Stone God's servants back behind their walls.

Rhenna could never again draw breath without being aware of the life in the air all around her ... the pneumata and the lesser devas of sky and wind who had come at her desperate call. She had no idea how she had done it or if she could repeat the magic. But it had saved them, and she was changed.

Cian tended Tahvo in a sheltered hollow. The little healer was recovering from the effects of sharing her body with a host of divinities, and would soon be up on her own two feet. The windstorm had won the fugitives time and a goodly distance from Karchedon, but Rhenna didn't believe for a moment that the priests would abandon their hunt.

"We should move on," Nyx said.

Rhenna looked up at the dark-skinned southern woman through narrowed eyes. "When was it decided that you should come with us?"

Nyx leaned on her spear and considered her answer. She had deliberately torn the hem of her chiton so that it ended at midthigh, leaving her legs free to move unhindered. Rhenna had tucked her long tunic high under her belt, but she looked forward to exchanging the flimsy garment for a sturdy shirt and trousers. And then there was the matter of a good pair of boots, weapons, and horses for all of them. How she missed reliable Chaimon and Dory....

"You need a guide," Nyx said, interrupting her thoughts. "My home is south of these lands, and I have traveled this country before."

This country. Nyx didn't refer to the hinterlands of Karchedon, leagues of rugged hills and pastures and intermittent streams to the south and west where the Stone God and the empire held sway, and where the risk of capture remained very real. Something even worse than imperial soldiers lay between the seekers and the magical object they sought–-an ocean of rock and sand, roasting under a merciless sun by day and bitter cold by night.

"You have crossed the Great Desert?" Rhenna asked.

"Yes. It is a wasteland few can survive in ignorance."

"Yet you did not make the journey alone." Cian joined them, brushing at the dust that clung to his sweat-streaked arms and chest. He had fought in Karchedon as a panther and run naked from the city; the windstorm had bought him time to twist a scrap of cloth around his hips. He was lean and lithe and beautiful, bronzed rather than burned by the sun, an ideal representation of all that was fine in a male physique.

Rhenna had held that body in her arms, felt it move with her own in the most ancient and carnal of dances. She tried not to stare, and to remember what she had vowed to herself when she had agreed to this mad venture. She could not be both lover and leader. She must be--

"I had aid," Nyx said, oblivious to Rhenna's turmoil. "There are tribes that live in the desert, and I know where they are wont to dwell."

"But they are not your tribe," Rhenna said. "Are your people allied to theirs?"

"Only in our hatred of evil."

And there was but one true evil that could unite disparate peoples who might otherwise scrap and snarl and fight over booty and borders, just as that evil had unified rebels from a dozen conquered territories.

"Did Geleon command you to help us?"

"I do not even know if Geleon survived the battle. He was my chief in Karchedon, not here." Nyx frowned. "You are of a most suspicious mind, warrior–-"

"As suspicious as you were when Quintus asked for the rebels' help in Karchedon."

"Quintus proved his worth, as you have. I do this of my own will, and because I believe in the prophecies ... as did the others who died for the sake of the Bearers."

Rhenna rubbed her sunburned arms. "Many were willing to give their lives based on the words of one woman–-"

"Your friend, who spoke with the voice of the gods."

"–-and because of these scribblings, which are much talked about but never seen."

"Philokrates believed in them," Cian said.

Rhenna snorted. "Philokrates lied about his past with the empire. How can we be sure of anything he told us?"

"The prophecies are real," Nyx said. "I knew of them long before I came to Karchedon."

"How?"

Nyx's expression flattened. "I do not know how Talos obtained his information, but the Stone priests are not the original owners of the sacred texts. They merely stole, or copied. Others outside Karchedon have knowledge of the prophecies, and they will be our allies."

"Your people," Cian said. At Nyx's nod, he added, "then your country hasn't yet been taken by the empire."

"No." Nyx stretched the hamstrings of her long runner's legs. "The desert lies between Karchedon and my mother's homeland. Even the Stone God's minions are not yet prepared to conquer so great a barrier."

"Then what brought you to the city at such great risk?" Rhenna asked. "Did the prophecies send you, or do you have visions, like Tahvo?"

"I need no visions to see the truth. No one on this earth can escape the Stone God forever."

They looked as one toward Karchedon. Cian cleared his throat.

"What did you mean when you said I was to carry the Hammer?" he asked.

Rhenna started. She had heard nothing of this, but there had been little time for conversation since the escape. "You have information about the Weapons?" she asked Nyx.

"They are clearly mentioned in the prophecies."

"Do you know where this Hammer lies?"

Nyx hesitated. "It is somewhere in the south, as Cian guessed. Beyond that I do not know, but there are those in my village, and among the folk of the deep forest, who may help us discover its location–-now that its true Bearer has been found."

"These prophecies also mention Cian's name?"

Nyx cut the air with her hand. "Any woman with half an eye could see that he is the one."

"Indeed?" Rhenna arched a brow. "One would think you have a personal claim on our Cian. Why is that, woman of the south?"

"I believe in him. He is Ailu. He has power over the Earth, and the Hammer is of the Earth. He–-" She broke off, clearly annoyed. "You have known the Watcher far longer than I. Why do you doubt him? Or can it be that you doubt your place at his side?"

Perhaps we should let Cian choose between us, Rhenna thought, scalded with anger. But she recognized the emotion for what it was and clamped the reply between her teeth. Jealousy had no place among the Free People, or in her own heart.

"‘The Warrior, the Watcher, and the Seer,'" she quoted, remembering Tahvo's words in the rebel safehouse. "Yes, I doubt. But it seems we're meant to travel together, Cian and Tahvo and I."

"Earth, Air, and Water," Nyx said. She rooted the butt of her spear into the gritty soil, chanting in her own language. Tiny buds burst from the polished wood and flared into whorls of green leaves. Living tendrils snaked up and down the length of the spear.

"I am also of the Earth," Nyx said. "The Watcher is more powerful, but I, too, have my gifts. You may find them useful."

Rhenna concealed her astonishment and met Nyx's eyes over the waving leaves. "I put more faith in the other end of your spear, if you're prepared to fight."

"She risked her life for us." Cian said with unaccustomed brusqueness. "I trust you both. Now you'll have to trust each other." He pointed his chin toward the arid scrublands to the south, where only a few miserable goats could hope to find sustenance. "You can find these desert tribes, Nyx?"

"I can."

"And they will be willing to help us?"

"We must be cautious, of course. We will be entering a land where they have fought for survival for thousands of years, but they know the Stone God threatens their very existence."

"And once we're beyond the desert?" Rhenna asked.

"Forests," Tahvo said. She crept up the low hill, feeling her way with outstretched hands. The unbroken silver of that blind gaze was still a shock to Rhenna, filling her with dreadful rage and bitterness. It wasn't fair that Tahvo should pay such a heavy price for her gifts, and continue to pay as a tool for devas and prophecies.

"I see it in my mind," Tahvo said, smiling sadly at Rhenna as if she had heard her thoughts. "A vast sweep of trees like the pelt of a great green beast. Not like the North."

"Nor like the woodlands in the hills west of Karchedon," Nyx agreed. "You will see many changes between here and my mother's country."

"Will there be villages where we can purchase clothing and supplies?" Rhenna asked.

"There is one we may reach by nightfall if there are no further delays." Nyx inclined her head to Cian. "We should continue on our journey before the soldiers find our trail. If you are ready, Watcher ..."

Cian looked to Rhenna, waiting for her signal. A small concession, but it warmed her heart. Dangerously so.

I am leader, she thought. Rhenna-of-the-Scar is no more.

She hitched up her small pack and started down the hill. Nyx caught up and passed her, using her spear as a staff. Cian followed with Tahvo.

They made reasonably good time on foot, using their limited supply of water sparingly. Nyx's pace never flagged. Tahvo asked Cian's help when she needed assistance over the roughest places, but the healer fared remarkably well with touch, hearing and smell in addition to the mystical shaman's senses she possessed.

The land gradually gave up its scant moisture, growing more rocky and bare with every passing league. Dry stream beds carved deep gorges out of overgrazed pasture, stripped of grass and all but the hardiest shrubs. An occasional goat paused in its browsing to stare at the interlopers, and jackals poked their heads from behind jutting rocks, laughing at human foolishness. The air grew so stifling that Nyx called a halt in the shadow of a cliff until the noonday heat had passed.

"The village I spoke of is not far ahead," she said. "The people who reside there are kin to the wandering desert tribes. They will have horses, which can carry us to Imaziren territory."

"Imaziren," Cian echoed, helping Tahvo drink from her waterskin. "This is a name I have heard before."

"Philokrates called my people ‘Amazons,'" Rhenna said. "A strange similarity."

"Imaziren is the word for more than one tribesman," Nyx said. "The singular is Amazi." She glanced at Rhenna. "Among the desert tribes, women fight at the sides of their men. Your women fight alone, do they not?"

"My people have no kin outside the Shield's Shadow, except male offspring who return to their fathers among the steppes tribes," Rhenna said.

"Even your legends don't tell where Asteria was born," Cian said.

Asteria, First Mother, founder of the Free People. It was true that not even the Earthspeakers, Healers or Seekers of Rhenna's race could be sure of Asteria's origins.

"It doesn't matter," she said, watching waves of hot air rise from the baked earth beyond the border of the cliff's shadow. "As long as these Imaziren help us."

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