The Skull Throne

The others held their collective breath, waiting on her words, and Inevera knew the fate of her people lay upon them. She remembered the words of the dice so many years ago:

—The Deliverer is not born. He is made—

If Ahmann did not return to her, she would make another.

She looked at the myriad dooms that awaited her love, and plucked one from the rest. The only fate that would let her hold power until a suitable heir could be found.

“The Deliverer has passed beyond our reach,” Inevera said at last. “He follows a demon to the abyss itself.”

“So the Par’chin is a demon after all,” Ashan said.

The dice said no such thing, but Inevera nodded. “It would appear so.”

Gared spat on the ground. “Said ‘Deliverer.’ Din’t say ‘Shar’Dama Ka.’ ”

The Damaji turned to him, regarding him the way a man might look at an insect, wondering if it was worth the effort to crush. “They are one and the same.”

This time it was Wonda who spat. “Core they are.”

Jayan stepped in, balling a fist as if to strike her, but Renna Tanner moved to interpose herself. The wards on her skin flared, and even Inevera’s impulsive eldest son thought better of challenging her. It would not do to be beaten down by a woman before the very men he must convince to let him take the throne.

Jayan turned back to his mother. “And the spear?” he demanded.

“Lost,” Inevera said. “It will be found again when Everam wills it, and not before.”

“So we are to simply give up?” Asome asked. “Leave Father to his fate?”

“Of course not.” Inevera turned to Shanjat. “Find the trail again and hunt. Follow every bent blade of grass and loose pebble. Do not return without the Deliverer or reliable news of his fate, even if it take a thousand years.”

“Yes, Damajah.” Shanjat punched his chest.

Inevera turned to Shanvah. “Go with your father. Obey and protect him on his journey. His goal is your goal.”

The young woman bowed silently. Ashia squeezed her shoulder and their eyes met, then father and daughter were off.

Leesha turned to Wonda. “You have a look as well, but be back in an hour.”

Wonda grinned, showing a confidence that filled Inevera with envy. “Wan’t planning to hunt till my hair turns gray. Deliverer comes and goes, but he’ll be back, you’ll see.” A moment later she, too, was gone.

“Goin’ too,” Renna said, but Leesha caught her arm.

The woman glared at her. Leesha quickly let go but did not back down. “Stay a moment, please.”

Even the Northerners are afraid of the Par’chin and his woman, Inevera noted, filing the information away as the two women moved off to speak in private.

“Ashan, walk with me,” she said, looking to the Damaji. The two of them stepped away as the others remained dumbstruck.

“I cannot believe he is gone,” Ashan said, his voice hollow. He and Ahmann had been as brothers for over twenty years. He had been the first dama to support Ahmann’s rise to Shar’Dama Ka, and believed in his divinity without question. “It seems like a dream.”

Inevera did not preamble. “You must take the Skull Throne as Andrah. You are the only one who can do it without inciting a war and hold it against my husband’s return.”

Ashan shook his head. “You are mistaken if you think that, Damajah.”

“It was the Shar’Dama Ka’s wish,” Inevera reminded him. “You swore an oath before him, and me.”

“That was if he were to fall in battle at Waning, with all to see,” Ashan said, “not killed by a greenlander on some forgotten mountainside. The throne should go to Jayan or Asome.”

“He told you his sons were not ready for that burden,” Inevera said. “Do you think that has changed in the last fortnight? My sons are cunning, but they are not yet wise. The dice foretell they will tear Everam’s Bounty asunder vying for the throne, and should one climb to the top of the bloodied steps and sit, he will not rise on his father’s return.”

“If he returns,” Ashan noted.

“He will,” Inevera said. “Likely with all the Core behind him. When he does, he will need all the armies of Ala to answer his call, and have neither time nor desire to kill his son to regain control.”

“I don’t like it,” Ashan said. “I have never coveted power.”

“It is inevera,” she told him. “Your likes are irrelevant, and your humility before Everam is why it must be you.”

“Be quick,” Renna said, as Leesha led her aside. “Wasted enough time already waitin’ on you lot. Arlen’s out there somewhere and I need to find him.”

“Demonshit,” Leesha snapped. “I don’t know you that well, Renna Bales, but well enough to know you wouldn’t have waited ten seconds on me if your husband was still unaccounted for. You and Arlen planned this. Where has he gone? What’s he done with Ahmann?”

“Callin’ me a liar?” Renna growled. Her brows tightened, fingers curling into fists.

For some reason, the bluster only made Leesha all the more sure of her guess. She doubted the woman would really strike her, but she held a pinch of blinding powder and would use it if need be.

“Please,” she said, keeping her voice calm. “If you know something, tell me. I swear to the Creator you can trust me.”

Renna seemed to calm a bit at that, relaxing her hands, but she held them palms up. “Search my pockets, you’ll find no answers.”

“Renna,” Leesha struggled to maintain her composure, “I know we had an ill start. You’ve little reason to like me, but this isn’t a game. You’re putting everyone at risk by keeping secrets.”

Renna barked a laugh. “If that ent the night callin’ it dark.” She poked Leesha in the chest, hard enough to knock her back a step. “You’re the one got the demon of the desert’s baby in your belly. You think that ent puttin’ folk at risk?”

Leesha felt her face go cold, but she bulled forward, lest her silence confirm the guess. She lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. “Who told you that nonsense?”

“You did,” Renna said. “I can hear a butterfly flap its wings across a cornfield. Arlen, too. We both heard what you said to Jardir. You’re carrying his child, and setting the count up to take the blame.”

It was true enough. A ridiculous plot of her mother’s that Leesha had foolishly brought to fruition. It was doubtful the deception would last past the child’s birth, but that was seven months to prepare—or run and hide—before the Krasians came for her child.

“All the more reason I find out what happened to Ahmann,” Leesha said, hating the pleading tone that had slipped into her voice.

“Ent got a notion,” Renna said. “Wastin’ time should be spent lookin’.”

Leesha nodded, knowing when she was beaten. “Please don’t tell Thamos,” she said. “I’ll tell him in time, honest word. But not now, with half the Krasian army just a few miles off.”

Renna snorted. “Ent stupid. How’d a Gatherer like you get pregnant, anyway? Even a dumb Tanner knows to pull out.”