Chapter Thirteen

Taurok

 

Hellsinc on the planet Perdition: Now

 

 

Taurok watched Red Moon weave her magic into the chain-rings, muttering things that seemed half incantation-half madness. He left the little Ancellian queen to her task and went back into the kitchen to clean up. It would be rude to leave a mess for the next scavenger to find. Finding a couple of tablecloths, he tied them into satchels and began to fill them with staples from the kitchen. The remaining cheese joined bags of flour and potatoes. Fruit from the orchard. Vegetables from gardens. Dried beans. Salt pork. All was divided between the two bags, Red Moon's bag being a quarter of the weight of his own, of course, He did not want to over-burden his companion.

Dragging them out to the back stoop, he squatted down on the lip of the step to watch her. It did not seem fair that the Oneverse should put such a heavy burden on those tiny shoulders. Fierce she was but all that rage inside her was not good. It was just a cover for the wounds in her heart, wounds too numerous to count.

If he were without conscience, if he truly intended to use her as weapon against the Rebels, he would cultivate that rage. But it tore at his guts to watch her pain.

Taurok chewed on a ragged fingernail. If he could get her to trust him, maybe she could let go of some of those burdens. That was the tricky part. Three hundred years of hanging out with the worst people the Oneverse had created had done nothing good for her trust issues. Having no experience with men of honor, she treated all newcomers as predators come to eat her. She was like a wild colt not yet trained to bridle or saddle. Everything was a threat meant to be battled against to the death. She exhausted herself trying to keep herself safe, not having the life experience to pick and choose her battles.

Did she really believe the things she had said about General Far Ranger? Had the Onverse really plucked her off a planet at the edge of the Deep Dark and sent her on a collision course with the Royalist army? Had her ten thousand grandmothers predicted the birth of Far Ranger centuries ago and put her feet on the path that brought her here? According to his granddad, the Ancellian magic had its basis sunk deep in the fabric of the world. They ate, drank, and breathed magic. The Oneverse twisted itself into knots trying to please them, it was said.

Taurok shuddered at the thought. What kind of magic was being sent out by this one broken-hearted child? More importantly, how dire would be the consequences if she did not get what she needed?

What did she need? She was Ancellian and female and circumstances had stripped everything from her. She was the last of her species. Her wants, her needs were surely like a black hole in the fabric of the magical world.

Taurok studied her profile. She was deep in thought or deep in prayer or deep in the magic of conjuring. Was she conjuring the boy Harbinger? Was this what the old wise men talked about? Was she twisting the world around her fingers so that the next step and the next and the one after that would lead her closer to Harbinger? Would the world have no choice but to cede to her demands?

Had the Fates really set her on a collision path with all who jockeyed for power in this world? Was Far Ranger dead because he stood between her and what she wanted? Taurok watched her hands as they smoothed the wire into place. The motion was mesmerizing. He shook his head to clear it. Somehow he could not imagine her purposefully harming the innocent people in this tragic tale. Did she not realize that none of them were innocent anymore? She was the only one graced by innocence, and in that purity of thought, she could not imagine anyone being less than herself.

Waking in the basement seemed so long ago. It had all seemed simple when he thought he had found someone to die for. Now, death might not have been the worst part of this bargain. She might just make him want to keep living.

“By all the gods in the heavens, let's hope Harbinger is not dead, Eliar,” Taurok whispered. “I do not know what I would do if she opened a door into the Underworld.”

Taurok listened to see if Eliar answered him, but there was nothing except the cries of the carrion buzzards high overhead and the muttering of his mad Ancellian witch.