Dragon Horse War Page 3

  Imbeciles. He flushed with anger. Cyrus bellowed at the group of waiting parents. “How many of your children are lost, likely dead in that rubble?” The shifting crowd stilled at his words. The beam was resettled out of way, and the crane’s deafening engine shifted into a quiet idle. “Your babies are dead, and you are responsible. My son is dead, and I am responsible because I knew the ancient texts and yet paid homage to this fictitious Collective that mankind has dreamed up to justify straying from the hard truths. Heed my words. Continue to ignore the power of the truth, and the children you have left will pay for your refusal. The One is tired of waiting.”

  An older man separated from the group and hopped up next to Cyrus. He wrapped an arm around Cyrus’s shoulders and gently, but firmly guided him off the wall. “Brother, I know you are grieving, but use this time to find your place in The Collective and peace in the knowledge that your son will live again.”

  Cyrus jerked away from the man, his anger roiling as he recognized the tribal-like tattoo that marked him as an Advocate of The Collective. “You speak blasphemy against The One.” He turned to the crowd. “I am camped for the rest of the week in the park at town center. If you want to know more about the truth, if you want to save the lives of your remaining loved ones, come there tonight and I will tell you all that I know.”

  A wail rose from a woman at the edge of the crowd as the recovery team began carrying small bodies from a newly exposed classroom. Cyrus smiled to himself. He would see some of them tonight. This town was the fifth disaster he’d visited, and more joined his cause at each location. He’d hang around for a few more days to give the grieving time to respond.

  His message was spreading exponentially. He had teams of followers who were sharing his views at three other disaster areas on this continent and several others attending an avalanche and a flooded city on two other continents. He would need to find a town soon where the global digital-network towers were working because he d-communicated with each team at least once a week.

  As he approached the park, three women sat in camp chairs waiting while Ruth warmed last night’s stew on the solar stove. She had been his first recruit after she lost her mate and two children in the same mudslide that claimed Thomas, and she had proved her worth many times over in the months that followed. Women were the toughest for him to sway toward his cause, but they listened to Ruth. Now, while he’d been at the school, she’d found three more seeking answers…answers that he could give them.

  “That smells good,” he said as he approached.

  Ruth turned to him. “Cyrus, I didn’t expect you back so soon. I was warming the leftover stew for a few new friends. They lived on the west side of town where everything was destroyed and are hungry.”

  He nodded to the women, their bleak faces streaked with grime and their clothes coated with dust of the destruction surrounding them. One was little more than a girl, maybe thirteen or fourteen years old. “We’re happy to share. We have an extra tent and blankets, too. We are survivors as well, and you are welcome to join up with us.” He smiled at Ruth to let her know he was pleased. They could offer comfort that the women wouldn’t find in long, impersonal lines at the disaster refugee camp. Even better, Cyrus could offer them purpose when they had to feel like they had none.

  Ruth beamed at the women. “I know it won’t replace your loved ones, but you have a new family with us.”

  Chapter Three

  Well, balls. She hadn’t meant to scare the woman that badly. Jael stared down at the crumpled body for a long minute. When it became apparent she wasn’t going to stir right away, she sighed and bent to gather her up.

  At least six inches shorter than she and whip thin, she’d expected the woman would feel light as an arrow in her arms, but she was surprised at the quiver of energy that hummed through her as she carried her visitor inside and laid her on the lounger.

  Not as young as she’d initially thought, the woman had short, spiky deep-red hair and pale skin, unusual among today’s population. Her flawless cheeks streaked by a natural blush only a shade lighter than her full lips mesmerized Jael, but the flutter of thick eyelashes stopped her sudden impulse to test the softness of one creamy cheek. A soft moan and twitch of fingers followed, but the woman did not awaken.

  Still, Jael recognized that reanimation was imminent, so she quickly logged a more professional assessment. She was slender but not frail. The long-fingered hands were soft. She definitely wasn’t in a profession that required manual labor. She frowned. Maybe this wasn’t the pesky musician. There were no calluses on her fingertips. She could be a pianist or flutist though.

  The woman moaned again and rolled her head toward Jael. Why hadn’t she noticed this before? The tattoo that wended its way from the woman’s neck to her left temple was new, the skin around it still slightly irritated, but it was undeniably the mark of a Collective Advocate.

  Jael’s blood sang, her eyes fixed on the intricate design. Could it be? No. Surely they wouldn’t have sent a novice to summon her. She was probably lost. Their newly anointed often wandered for a few years, offering service to random groups in need and learning what they needed to find their place in the world. That was probably the case of this neophyte. But then, she had specifically called out for her as she stood at the door. A gasp tore Jael’s gaze from the tattoo, and she was swallowed by eyes the color of lush grass.

  They both froze, and then the woman suddenly crab-crawled backward and would have fallen off the end of the lounger if Jael hadn’t clamped her hands firmly around the woman’s forearms to hold her in place.

  “Let me go!” The woman struggled, bringing her feet up to kick hard at Jael’s chest.

  Pain shot through her unshielded breasts and numbed her arms, but she gritted her teeth and held tight. “Dragon’s balls. Stop struggling. I won’t hurt you. I’m trying to keep you from falling off the lounger and hurting yourself.”

  The woman stilled, but her eyes were wary. “Who are you?”

  Jael cautiously relaxed her hold and sat back. She’d been leaning over the woman in the same way she had at the door. She hadn’t intended to intimidate. Well, not once she carried her in the house. She rubbed a bruised nipple. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking that question? You are here without an invitation.”

  “Alyssa.” She touched the back of her head and frowned. “You assaulted me.”

  Not the pesky musician. She couldn’t remember that person’s name, but it wasn’t Alyssa. “I did not.”

  “Then how do you explain the lump on the back of my head?”

  “You did it to yourself when you backed into the door.”

  “Because you scared a lifetime out of me.” Alyssa’s green eyes radiated with unfocused intensity, then cleared. “Who are you?”

  Jael wasn’t sure if the whispered question was meant for her or if it was only a thought spoken aloud, but she saw no reason to withhold her identity. “You can stop trying to read me. I’m Jael and this is my mountain you’re trespassing on.”

  “Mr. El?”

  “J-a-e-l. Not a mister.” She stood and rubbed her breast again. “Though I wished I was when you kicked me. It might not have hurt as much.”

  The splotches on Alyssa’s cheeks flared a deeper red. “Sorry.” She smiled slightly. “You’re obviously not a man. I was asking if you’re the author—generally assumed to be male—who writes as J-period-E-l.”

  “That’s me.” Jael went to the food-prep area and pulled a cold pack from the storage. She cracked the activation capsule and returned to the common room to offer it to Alyssa. “For the swelling. It will numb the headache, too.”

  “I’m fine,” Alyssa said, staring at the cold pack but not taking it.

  Jael grabbed her hand and put the cold pack in it. “You’re broadcasting pain so strongly, it’s almost making my head hurt.”

  Alyssa narrowed her eyes but obediently slipped it behind her head, where it rested on the back of the lounger. “You’re an empath, too?
”

  “Telepath. You read emotions, I read thoughts. By the way, I have to congratulate you on your colorful and original curses.”

  Alyssa scowled. “It’s very poor manners to read someone’s thoughts without their consent.”

  “Hard not to hear your thoughts. You just chatter away in that pretty head of yours.” Jael shook her head. “Didn’t they teach you to shield at all?”

  Alyssa stiffened. “I know how to shield. I wasn’t doing it before because I thought I was alone. And now, it makes my headache worse to shield.”

  Alyssa’s thoughts went quiet, but Jael could see that pain still dulled her eyes.

  “Don’t. Wait for the swelling to subside and you can shield without pain. If your mind chatter becomes too noisy, I can block you out.” Alyssa closed her expressive eyes, but the quiet remained. “Really,” Jael said more gently. “It’s okay.” She took a chance and raised a block she thought Alyssa could sense. Alyssa’s face relaxed. “Better?”

  Alyssa sighed and slowly opened her eyes. “Infinitely.”

  Jael felt unreasonably pleased that her guest’s pain had eased a little. She hadn’t completely forgotten how to be civil. “I have some ginger. I usually just chew it, but I can make some tea if you’d like.”

  Alyssa stared up at her host and realized those eyes were the last image she could recall before she hit her head. They were the brilliant blue of a cloudless sky. She’d have thought it a glimpse of the hereafter except for the fierce anger she had felt when that blue filled her vision. Then, when she awoke, the same cerulean view was eerily tranquil. She shivered at the contrast. Could she trust the calm? Or was it the eye of a storm ready to unleash again?

  “It’s just tea. I won’t poison you.”

  “You said you wouldn’t listen in on my thoughts.”

  “I don’t have to listen in. They’re written on your face.” The smile was little more than a crinkling of skin around the eyes and a slight tightening of the cheeks, but Alyssa felt her amusement.

  Alyssa smiled as much as the pounding in her head would allow. “I’m glad you find me entertaining.”

  One eyebrow rose.

  “Your eyes speak as loudly as my face.” The words were barely past her lips when she regretted them. Jael’s eyes instantly shuttered.

  “I’ll get that tea for you,” she said, striding back to the prep.

  Alyssa watched her cross the room. Tall and leanly muscled, Jael moved like a big, sleek cat. Her blond mane draped carelessly across her shoulders. Her T-shirt was a dull olive, and the cargo pants that hung loosely from her hips were the same, only a few shades darker. Her hands and bare feet were dirty, and Alyssa wondered if she had been the invisible stalker she had sensed in the forest.

  While Jael washed a root of ginger to crush and boil with a few other tea leaves, Alyssa took advantage of the silence between them to close her eyes and empty her aching head. Even in the midst of her relaxed meditation, she felt Jael move closer and opened her eyes to accept the mug of steaming tea she held out. Jael sat on the low table next to the lounger to face her.

  “Thank you.” She took a few sips.

  “I need to look at your head to make sure you didn’t break the skin.”

  Alyssa nodded and turned. Jael was surprisingly gentle and quick.

  “The skin is intact, but you have a good-sized swelling. You should be careful not to exert yourself for a couple of days, and let me know immediately if you feel nauseated or dizzy or if your headache gets worse.”

  Alyssa turned to resettle on the lounger, hyperaware that Jael’s legs were mere inches from her own. She’d expected her to move back out of her personal space and sit somewhere else now that the inspection of her wound was done, but Jael didn’t. She looked up, then glanced away from the intense stare. “You’re wondering why I’m here.”

  Jael canted her head, then nodded slowly. “That is the big question, yes. But I’m more immediately curious about your empathic ability.”

  Alyssa stared into her cup. There were very few, even among the temple elders, who were privy to the extent of her power. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “I felt you projecting the minute you climbed over my gate, which we’ll talk about later. A closed gate means keep out, not climb over.”

  “You’re a telepath. It’s not surprising that you could hear me. I’m probably the only other human on your mountain.”

  “But I didn’t just ‘hear,’ I felt you. I’m not empathic, but I’ve lived enough lifetimes to recognize the sensation. When you were in the forest, I felt you deliberately project.”

  “You must be mistaken.” The denial died on her tongue. The eyes that now held hers were old, centuries old. She was but a fledgling in comparison and instinctively lowered her eyes.

  “And, even though I blocked, you could detect me. I’ve known one other empath who could project emotions, but even he couldn’t do that.”

  Alyssa had learned early that she should keep the extent of her talents secret. Once someone knew, they never again trusted their own feelings around her. They avoided touching her for fear she would dig into and manipulate their emotions. She didn’t want to chance how they’d react if they discovered she didn’t need to physically touch them to influence their feelings. “I would never misuse the gifts I’ve been given. I’m sworn to serve The Collective. I was just scared and protecting myself. For all I knew, it was a beast stalking me.”

  I’ve been called a beast before, but the lady meant it as a compliment.

  Startled, Alyssa realized the whisper in her mind wasn’t intended as an intrusion, but a joke to defuse her defensive response.

  She was only seven when she was sent home from school with a note telling her parents that she was a distraction to the other students and should be taken to The Collective temple. Even in this age of enlightenment, only a small percentage of the population actually manifested special abilities. Those who did elicited a wide range of response—fear, skepticism, reverence. She’d cried herself to sleep those first nights in the temple dormitory. But before long, her birth family became nothing but an uneasy memory. She realized she fit much better into this new family where everyone had special talents. And, although they’d just met, Jael was part of the same family.

  She smiled at the jest and shook her head. “I’m sorry. It was such a relief to be out here where there was no one. The freedom to drop my shields without being inundated by others’ emotions was too tempting.” She drained her cup, realizing that her headache had already begun to ease, and raised her eyes to Jael’s again. “That’s why you live on this mountain, isn’t it? You must be swamped with people’s thoughts the way I am with their emotions. You’ve found peace here.”

  Jael nodded. “It’s one reason.”

  They regarded each other.

  “You have a message for me?”

  Alyssa blinked. Did she? “I…I don’t know. Honored Advocate Han sent me.” She reached back and winced when her fingers found the swelling on her tender skull. “But I don’t remember what I’m supposed to tell you.” She shook her head to clear it, and her stomach roiled with the movement. She groaned and held her head. “Bad move. I think I might be sick.”

  Jael watched the color drain from Alyssa’s face. The tattoo along the left side of her face seemed to vibrate against the pale skin. “Sit back for a minute and close your eyes.” She grasped Alyssa’s slender wrist and found the pressure point. “This is an old sailor’s remedy for seasickness. There’s a trigger in your wrist that will relieve nausea. Rather than constantly swabbing the decks of vomit when they transported seasick Roman troops, the sailors would show the soldiers how to place a pebble there and then bind the wrist tightly with a strip of cloth to keep the pressure constant.”

  After several minutes, color flooded back into Alyssa’s cheeks and Jael released her.

  “Thank you. I feel much better,” she said, though her emerald eyes had clouded gray-green with fatigue.
“The message is, um…” She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then looked up at Jael. “Look inside to learn your destiny. That’s the message. I’m guessing you know what it means.”

  “That’s all he said?”

  Alyssa nodded.

  “Tell me what happened when he gave you the message.”

  “I don’t see how—”

  “Humor me.”

  Alyssa rubbed at her temples. “I recall sitting on the garden bench with Advocate Han while he explained how to get here.” She blinked several times, frowning. “He took my hand and said I was to deliver an important message. I thought that was odd because he rarely touches anyone. Then he was telling me to be careful and come directly here.” Her eyes were apologetic. “I’m sure that isn’t much help.”

  Jael drummed her fingers against her thigh. She should have realized. Of course they wouldn’t have revealed The Guard to her. That secret was held so tightly even very few of the priests knew. “You wouldn’t remember, because he didn’t tell you. He embedded the message in your mind when he took hold of your hand.”

  Alyssa stared at her. “Embedded—”

  “—in your subconscious,” Jael said. “It’s an unbreakable encryption because I’m the only one with the ability to retrieve it.”

  “Retrieve it?” Alyssa frowned. “How exactly?”

  “The same way Han stuck it in your head.”

  Alyssa’s brow furrowed with this information, and Jael carefully lowered her shields, allowing Alyssa to feel the sincerity of her intent.

  “We can wait until tomorrow, after you’re rested.” But you won’t even feel as much as this whisper in your head.

  Alyssa smiled at her telepathic reassurance and shook her head, more carefully this time. “It could be urgent.”

  Her fingers were soft in Jael’s callused hands. She reached up to touch her even-softer cheek. “Close your eyes. You can trust me.”

  Alyssa nodded slowly and settled back into the lounger and took a deep breath.