The Daylight War
Page 66

‘If you live,’ Qeva corrected, moving forward into a sharusahk stance. As she came out of the shadowed alcove, sunlight struck the hora she had used to blast open the doors, and the bone exploded in her hand. Qeva shrieked, and her concentration was lost as the concussion knocked her from her feet.
Inevera moved swiftly to finish her while she was distracted. A quick kill, and then only Melan could make a claim against her.
But Enkido stepped between them, delivering a camel kick that sent Inevera sprawling across the room.
‘Kill her!’ Qeva commanded as Inevera struggled to her feet.
‘You would have a eunuch settle who leads the women of our tribe?’ Inevera asked loudly. As she’d hoped, all eyes snapped to Qeva for her response. In that moment she slipped her hand into her hora pouch, clutching a bit of warded bone tightly in her fist, careful that no light should strike it.
‘You are not worthy to lead if you cannot defeat Enkido,’ Qeva growled. ‘My mother made him to be her spear beyond the grave.’
Inevera had no time for a retort as Enkido came in fast and hard, his sharusahk like nothing she had ever seen. The size and ferocity of a Sharum, the grace of a dama, and the precision of a dama’ting. She had never once sensed anger in the man, but it radiated from him now.
All Sharum must avenge the death of their dama master, even if it mean their death, the Evejah taught, and Kenevah had been no less his master for being a woman. She had mutilated him, crippled him, but Enkido loved sharusahk above all, and she had given him that to his heart’s content. Enkido came at Inevera with everything he had, and – she had to admit – without the aid of magic he would have been the end of her.
But the warded bit of demon bone in her hand pumped raw magic up her arm, flooding her limbs with strength and speed beyond anything mere flesh and bone could duplicate. She could sense Enkido’s confusion as his first strike missed and she jabbed stiffened fingers at his kidney.
It should have been a telling blow, but it was her turn to be surprised. Enkido was armoured. Her fingers struck one of the hard ceramic plates Sharum wore sewn into their robes in the Maze. She felt it shatter on impact, but the force of her blow went with it, leaving her fingers aching.
She managed to evade his return strike, barely, but he reversed again, catching her with a backhand blow to the face that cracked her head back like a whip. His following kick broke ribs and sent her crashing into Kenevah’s burning desk, which collapsed under her weight. There was a collective gasp from the crowd gathering in the office, encircling them.
Inevera had to strain to keep her fist tight and not lose the hora stone as she absorbed the impact, tucking into a ball and using some of the energy to roll to her feet past the wreckage. Enkido came on, but she had firm footing, and did not underestimate him again.
Back and forth they paced, Enkido striking and missing, Inevera landing quick blows in return that were largely shrugged off or turned by his armour. Both were wary now, and gave no real openings, no free energy. Inevera glanced at Qeva, waiting patiently just inside the ring of women around their battle, fresh and ready to take up where Enkido left off, should he be defeated.
And she would have hora of her own.
Enkido came at her with wilting flower, and Inevera could have slipped away, but on impulse she let the blow strike home. Her leg collapsed and Enkido pounced to take advantage, but Inevera drew on the power of the demon bone, restoring strength to her wilted limb. She came up at him hard, jabbing fingers into a space between his armour plates and causing him to clench his abdomen reflexively. While he was bent she landed several precise strikes to the lines of power in his neck and shoulder, then broke his knee with a hard stomp.
The eunuch did not cry out as he fell to the ground, even as much as a tongueless man might. He struggled to rise again, but though the strain showed in his brow, his remaining limbs would not obey. He calmed then, breathing deeply and looking up at her with quiet dignity, unafraid as he waited for her to finish him.
But Inevera had no interest in killing the eunuch. ‘You have honoured your mistress, Sharum, but Everam still has a plan for you.’ She felt the hora in her hands crumble into dust, drained, and wondered if she would regret the mercy. She was already labouring for breath, coughing in the smoky air.
Qeva took a sharusahk stance, but Inevera did not respond in kind.
‘Are we blind dama, following the most skilled fighter?’ Inevera asked the assembled women. ‘The Evejah’ting gave us the alagai hora that we might never descend into such savagery.’
She looked at Qeva. ‘It was you who first cast the bones for me. You who pulled me in when you could easily have turned me away. Why? What did you see?’
‘Your future was hidden,’ Qeva said. ‘It was that, my mother told me to seek.’
Inevera nodded. She had known as much. ‘It is hidden no longer. Cast the bones again. Now, in the Chamber of Shadows for all to see.’
Qeva’s eyes widened at that, then narrowed, sensing a trap. A frantic whispering broke out among the surrounding women, and it closed on her.
Command what only a fool would refuse.
The two contenders for the black hood led the way down into the underpalace, followed by every woman and girl in the palace. When they had barred themselves into the chamber, out of sight of men, Qeva produced her dice and moved up to Inevera, hatred in her eyes. ‘Just a few drops of your blood now, but don’t fear, I shall take the rest before the day is out.’
Inevera lifted her veil, spitting blood from her split lip onto Qeva’s dice. She didn’t think it was possible to double the woman’s rage, but she could see in her eyes that she had managed it. I am sorry, Qeva, but you must be broken like a Jiwah Sen for all to see.
The assembly held their breath as Qeva shook the dice and chanted her prayers. The hora glowed fiercely, casting a sinister light over the crowd, but Inevera did not fear it, or them. She stood tall over Qeva as she knelt. A single well-placed kick could kill the woman while she was intent on the casting, but Inevera had no wish to kill Qeva, even less than she had Enkido. Honour demanded Qeva kill her, but Inevera’s dice had told her more of the woman’s heart.
– You are more daughter to Qeva than her own get. She may kill you, but she will never betray you.—
Qeva threw, and as the dice settled, the other women lost composure, Bride and Betrothed alike moving forward in a rush to see the pattern.
Some, like Qeva and Melan, saw the heart of it immediately and gasped, much as Belina and the others had. Most stared at the dice for several moments before their meaning became clear.
Qeva looked up at her, and Inevera held out the black hood. It was a paltry thing, and she had no interest in it. In truth, she never had. It was a rung in a ladder she had only to grasp long enough to leave behind her.
‘You will wear the black hood, sister Qeva,’ she said, and turned to Melan. ‘And you, sister Melan, the black veil. I have my husband to see to, and little interest in Kaji tea politics. I have my own palace, and higher goals.’
Qeva nodded, reaching for the hood. Inevera moved it slightly out of reach, and there was an intake of breath around the room.
‘You will speak for the Kaji at court,’ Inevera said, ‘but though it be your voice, the words will be mine.’
Qeva bowed. ‘Yes, Damajah.’ She reached again, and this time Inevera allowed her to take the hood.