Alara Unbroken Page 11

“You dare threaten me!” Ajani roared.

  “Ajani! Wait! You’re hearing me wrong. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m upset about your brother, and it’s all coming out wrong. Let’s think this through.” He looked down and saw only air below him. He looked back at Ajani. “The pride will always be a place for you, Ajani. You’ll always be welcome with us. We’ll adopt you just like you were our own. You know we see great things in you, just like Jazal did.”

  “Enough,” said Ajani. “I don’t want to hear any more excuses. I want to hear facts. I want to hear what you know about the murder.”

  “Listen. Put me down and we’ll talk all you want about—”

  “Better tell me what I want to hear, now. My arms are getting tired, and Jazal isn’t here to guide my morals.”

  Tenoch’s tunic tore, dropping him a crucial few inches.

  “I was warned!” Tenoch yelped. “Someone … Someone told me to stay far away from the village that night. But I ignored them. I should have run away …”

  “Who was it?” Ajani roared. He jerked on Tenoch’s clothing, and it tore another few inches.

  “I—”

  “Tell me, Tenoch, or I’ll let you fall, as you deserve to.”

  “My mother!” squeaked Tenoch. “Don’t drop me. Mother knew something was coming, she told me. But she didn’t plan it, I know it! She couldn’t have. It was something else. She didn’t do it, I swear, Ajani! She just told me to get away, and told me it was going to be my time to lead the pride. Please, let me go, I don’t know anything else.”

  Fire burned in Ajani’s arms. The feeling spread throughout his mind. “Oh, I’ll let you go, all right.”

  Tenoch felt so heavy. Ajani’s muscles quivered. His fingers longed to let go, so that Tenoch would slip out of his hands and fall away, out of the pride and out of his life. Tenoch had been a burden on the pride his whole life, and was clearly the benefactor of Jazal’s death. He was in Ajani’s debt. It would be so easy just to drop him. So he did.

  As Ajani dropped Tenoch off the cliff, Tenoch’s claw grabbed onto Ajani’s arm and pulled him down. Tenoch’s weight yanked Ajani off his feet and pulled him over the edge along with the other nacatl. The two tumbled in space for a sickening moment, until Tenoch’s jerkin caught on the cliff’s edge. Ajani caught Tenoch’s leg, and swung around, slamming into the cliffside. Pebbles dropped into the cloud-jungle whiteness below.

  “Tenoch … Do you have a good hold?” Ajani said, speaking carefully and trying not to budge.

  “Let go of my foot,” Tenoch managed. He twitched his leg.

  “Tenoch, stop. I can help us, but you have to hold on tight, and don’t move.” Ajani said.

  “I’m losing my grip. I’m going to fall,” said Tenoch.

  “Just hold on. If I can just concentrate, I can—”

  “Good riddance,” said Tenoch, and kicked hard with the leg that Ajani was holding onto.

  Ajani’s fingers slipped, and he fell.

  BANT

  Elspeth Tirel was a planeswalker with no desire to planeswalk.

  Her own world was a place of nightmarish suffering. Even as a child, she had tried to fight back against the evils there. What she could not fight, she endured. When she could no longer endure, she broke. And when she broke, her planeswalker spark ignited, giving her the gift she desperately needed—the means to leave, never to return.

  An infinity of worlds were at her disposal, yet she chose quickly. She had only visited a few planes when she came upon Bant, but arriving there, still in her youth, she immediately knew she was home. No orphan had ever been so happy.

  Life made sense on Bant. The fields and olive orchards were sun-soaked and serene. The sky held the promise of the watchful eyes of angels. The sea lapped at the shores of the five noble nations. On Bant she could leave her planeswalker nature behind, forget that there ever were any other planes, and revel in the world’s embrace.

  She never spoke of the existence of other worlds to anyone. It was her private gesture of gratitude to her adopted home: to maintain its innocence. Bant was paradise; there was no need to expose its denizens to the strife and torture that abounded beyond its borders. She need only live her life as a young girl, and pursue her new passion: knighthood.

  Elspeth found that she took it naturally. As she unsheathed her Valeron-crafted steel, it felt good in her hands; the leather of the hilt had indented in all the right places to mold around her palms, and the straps had stretched to line up with her fingers. Her palms had changed to fit its contours too. She had never studied swordplay long enough on any plane to develop callouses but she had them on Bant. They were coarse and bumpy, and she was proud of them.

  She turned and brought the steel to bear, facing the older knights all around her—her caste equals, but her rank subordinates.

  “Let’s have another,” she said. “Knight Mardis, your turn.”

  “Yes, Knight-Captain,” said Mardis. “Go get her, Mardis! Avenge us!” the other knights cheered.

  Elspeth circled Mardis, watching his form. He was quite a bit older, fully a man, and had spent more years in the saddle than she had walking upright. He probably thought her just a child. But she saw beads of sweat breaking on his forehead. It wasn’t going to be easy overcoming his greater weight and strength, especially without magic. She would have to look for an opening. Him sweating was a good start.

  “Bring your elbows in, Mardis,” she said. “I can see daylight between your sword arm and your side. That’s a flaw in your defenses.”

  “Yes, Knight-Captain.” He took her seriously.

  “And watch your footwork! Don’t stamp around, and don’t shuffle. Come up onto the balls of your feet.”

  He looked down to check his foot position, and Elspeth cut a sharp maneuver with her sword arm, snapping her blade against his helmet. He recoiled and parried it away, but it was far too late. His helmet rang like a bell. The other knights laughed and hooted.

  “She got you with the footwork! Come on, Mardis!”

  Elspeth saw Knight Mardis’s eyes narrow through his helmet. It was the right time, she thought. He would overcommit, and she’d have her chance to overcome his power with her quickness. She flexed her fingers, letting the hilt of her sword slide into its most comfortable position, balanced in the crooks of her fingers with her thumbs bearing the weight lightly but surely. Her eyes watched Mardis’s every movement as they arced around each other inside the ring of knights. A drop of sweat fell from his helmet.

  He lunged. She let him advance, giving his blade almost enough time to strike her pauldron, but then twisted her chin at the final moment, letting her body roll with it and circle around. His blade went by in a straight line, pulling Mardis with its momentum as she twisted fully around to build her own. For an instant her opponent was out of sight, and then she saw him again, still lunging but trying to recover his balance. It was enough—his center of gravity was thrown so far off that a single impact would fell him. When she swung her sword around, it clapped against his leg plate and swept his legs out from under him. His arms flailed as he collapsed, sending his sword flying straight up into the air. Knight Mardis dumped face first into the grass, not even trying to get up. His humiliation was complete.

  He doesn’t see his sword still tumbling end over end in the air above him, Elspeth realized. It’s going to come right back down on him. Stupid Bant armor, no back protection …

  Without thinking, she shouted a protection spell to save him.

  NAYA

  Ajani’s eyes opened slowly. His mouth was dry. Had it been hanging open? Had he been asleep? What time was it? What day was it?

  He slowly came to. He realized his body was in a heap on a rocky outcropping on the side of the cliff. The sun shone down on him. His right arm was lying at an odd angle across his chest—probably a dislocated shoulder. He lay on top of his left arm, which had most likely taken the brunt of the impact, and was certainly broken, probably in multiple places. His legs? Were t
hey there? He tried to raise his head to look, but a wave of pain washed over him, so he didn’t try any further. He tried to move his legs, but couldn’t feel them. Was his back broken? If he was alive to ponder the question, he decided, then it couldn’t be.

  Still, he felt like a shattered toy. As long as he lay there, he strangely felt nothing, no pain, no shortness of breath. He mostly felt thirsty. How long had he lain there? Was he dehydrated, or had he lost blood? He couldn’t see any blood from the position of his head, but it could have leaked out under him and dried already, or it could be ebbing out of his back as he lay there.

  With his eye position he could see partway up the side of the cliff, but not to its top. He had fallen a sickening distance, from what he could see. Why hadn’t someone from the pride come for him? That bastard Tenoch probably hadn’t told anyone that he fell. He would have just returned to the den and acted like nothing had happened. No one would be coming for him, and that thug would take over. But Ajani couldn’t let Tenoch be kha of the pride—couldn’t let him take Jazal’s place.

  “Well, he’s certainly going to take my place if you lie there like that,” said Jazal’s voice.

  “My body’s broken,” said Ajani. “What else do you suggest I do?”

  “Nothing. Just lie there. Let your life seep into the rocks. Let your skin shrivel away from your bones under the sun, and let the plants grow up through your ribcage.”

  “It is tempting.”

  “Yes, it is. So why don’t you just give in?” “Shut up,” said Ajani.

  “No, really. Why not just let yourself rot here? Fertilize the world with your corpse. That’s better than the progress you’ve made so far.”

  “You’re getting on my nerves, spirit.”

  “So then, what’s your plan?”

  “Give me a minute to think. The pain is coming back.”

  “Why don’t you just mend yourself? You were always my best healer.”

  “I’ve tried. It doesn’t work like that for me. It’s like when the humans hunted me, remember?”

  “I remember. I found you wounded and outmatched—despite you being perfectly capable of handling those foolish creatures on your own.”

  “I couldn’t do it alone. I couldn’t bring out my own—my own self, or mend my own wounds. It’s just never worked like that. I could always see the light inside you, though—I could feel the way the threads ran, and could set them right when they were arranged incorrectly. I could never see that inside myself. I’m opaque to my own eyes.”

  “You have all that power inside you, Ajani. And you’re telling me none of it will help you here, when you’re stranded on a cliff?”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, brother.”

  “No. You never did.”

  Ajani closed his eyes. He had one option.

  BANT

  Mardis’s sword came down end over end and hit him squarely in the back between his shoulder blades, point first. The sound was sickening as it punctured deep enough to stop only when it pierced the ground beneath him.

  The knights yelled and descended on their comrade.

  “Get off of him! Move!” Elspeth shouted.

  Surprised by her sudden authority, they startled and moved back. She stepped forward and grabbed the sword, yanking it straight up out of him. There was a clean slit in his jerkin, but no wound. The other knights gasped.

  Mardis coughed and rolled over. He took off his helmet, puzzled at their faces. “What happened?” he said.

  “Are you all right? You must be hurt! We need a healer!” The others crowded around, looking for a wound, but found none.

  They looked at Elspeth.

  “Lucky man,” she said to them. “Just missed the skin.” She held Mardis’s sword. It had no blood on it, but the point was barely blackened by having been stuck in the earth.

  They were dumbfounded. Mardis rolled over, trying to crane his neck to see his back.

  “That was strange. You … did something,” said Mardis. “What did you do, Knight-Captain? You shouted something. Was that a spell?”

  “You know I’m no wizard,” she said. “It was just a fluke. The sword must have only grazed you. And that’s the end of it.”

  She stomped off.

  Well, there goes a training day, she thought, and possibly her secret with it. The others had no idea she was a planeswalker, or that there even were other planes—and it was her sole intention to keep it that way. It was the only way to protect her adopted home. Her spell would not have been unusual on Bant—but her deception about her abilities would be. She had never displayed the use of even basic magic before, and therefore had risen through Sigiled caste rather than the spell-wielding Sighted. She was afraid her dishonesty would raise enough suspicion to jeopardize her deeper secrets. With her luck, one afternoon’s sparring accident would lead to an avalanche of revelations, none of which that particular plane was prepared for. If she wasn’t careful, all of Bant would know the truth—that Bant was only a tiny bright spot in a terrifying multiverse of benighted worlds. Her paradise, her chosen home, would lose its uncontaminated ignorance. And then she would lose everything else.

  “Knight-Captain!”

  She wouldn’t let that happen. No more planeswalking. None of the dark multiverse’s claws would reach the little bright world of Bant. She would protect its innocence for it. She, who first planeswalked from her birth-world as a mere child; she, who endured years of torture in the clutches of the worst the multiverse had to offer; she would stand between all that pain and Bant, personally.

  “Elspeth!”

  She turned. “What is it?” she demanded.

  The knights were pointing to a small hill. Elspeth could see a large creature—a person, but a person who appeared to be covered in light-colored fur—lying prone on the grass.

  “Someone has just … appeared,” said Knight Mardis.

  No, thought Elspeth. “Get your pikes,” she said.

  Ajani had no destination in mind for his planeswalk. He had no sense of aim or control; he didn’t know if he was even capable of consciously influencing where he traveled, or whether some strange laws within or without him governed the entire experience. Perhaps the power would take him to Zaliki, who could mend his wounds. Or perhaps it would take him to the world of volcanoes, where he could perish in fire. Either way, he knew he would die if he just lay next to the cliff. So he willed his mind, his broken body, and his soul to go.

  The sensation was like being shoved through a plate of glass, except that the splinters tore at the inside of his skin instead of the outside. His heart tried to pound, but it didn’t know which direction to expand into, so it squeezed painfully in on itself instead. Ajani’s lungs burned, and he wasn’t sure if he was breathing in something awful or failing to breathe anything at all. His sense of up and down betrayed him, and he had the sensation of being flung end over end without moving at all.

  The sense of movement was incredible. He knew that because of the sudden jolt when it stopped upon his arrival. He was slammed into something—a gently sloped hill—as if at extreme velocity. He waited, moment after sickening moment, for the residual sensation of motion to finally pass.

  The air smelled strange. It was the lack of moisture in the air, he decided. And different plants. And the grass was softer, sweeter.

  He rolled roughly onto his side, allowing the sky to rotate into view. It was impossibly bright—a blue canopy patched with small, scudding clouds, and lit by the blinding disk of a sun. The air was brisk, but that sun warmed him. Whatever world it was, its beauty was effortless, sweeping, and welcoming.

  Ajani was sick on the grass.

  Elspeth couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Neither could her fellow knights, judging by their panicked reactions.

  “You there, whatever you are, don’t move,” said Knight Mardis, pointing a spear directly at the cat-man. “You so much as twitch a muscle, and we’ll run you through.”

  The cat-man who lay on the g
rass before them was easily two feet taller than Elspeth or the other knights, covered in a coat of fine, golden-white fur, streaked with soot and blood. His face was like a leotau, the noble beasts ridden by knights, but with an expression of pained intelligence, framed by a regal mane. Large pieces of curving bronze armor covered his shoulders, and he wore a simple jerkin of rough green cloth. He had a tail.

  Elspeth hadn’t seen a leonin before, but she had heard of such creatures in her travels. They were bigger than she had expected. And whiter of fur.

  Of course, there were no leonin on Bant.

  “D—Demon!” said one of the knights.

  The other knights pointed their pikes right at the cat-man’s face.

  “Stay those weapons,” ordered Elspeth.

  The cat-man turned his eyes up at her and groaned. He seemed to have trouble looking into the sun, and his limbs looked badly injured. She noticed he had a scar across one of his eyes. She looked deep into the beast’s good eye, deep enough to feel a sense of falling. He was a kindred soul. He was not just an injured stranger—he was a falling star, one who was born, and who had suffered, on another world. He was a planeswalker. “Leave us,” she said.

  “Knight-Captain, I don’t think that’s such a good—”

  “Head back to the castle. Get clerics. Whoever you can find. And a body sling. Make haste.” “Right away.”

  There was a jangle of reins, a squeak of saddle leather, and a crunching of hooves on gravel, and the other knights were off.

  The cat-man blinked up at her, then his muscles seemed to relax. His eyelids settled shut.

  “I’m not sure you can understand this, or even hear this,” said Elspeth. “But I’m going to tell it to you anyway. You’ve arrived. You’ve made it off your tortured world, and I’d like to be the first to congratulate you.”

  “You’re too late for that,” the creature muttered.

  “You’ve made it,” continued Elspeth. “Whatever place you were in before, whatever world did all this to you, your suffering is now over. You’ve come to paradise, a plane called Bant.” She knelt down near Ajani’s head. “They’ll take care of you here. Even if you’re an outsider, they’ll accept you for who you are. You can leave behind your fears and memories of the evils that went before.”