He Who Breaks the Earth (The Gods-Touched Duology)

It took a while before Lia was calm enough to even think about walking back toward camp. She sat in the afternoon sun with her veil in one fist and nothing in the other, where her sword was supposed to be.

If she even deserved a sword. Lia tried to breathe, but the air wouldn’t come, whistling at the back of her throat as she saw it over and over again: her sword swinging toward Knox’s neck.

What is wrong with me?

She stared toward the road leading into Rentara, the little shops with people milling between them, the gangly shape of the university just over Rentara’s walls, the smell of smoke and people and life on the wind, and all she could feel was rage.

Lia’s parents were dead.

Her sister was in a monster’s clutches.

And the world was sitting down to afternoon tea as if nothing at all had changed.

When Ewan had attacked her, she’d frozen. When her oldest friend had sparred with her to help her feel better, she’d tried to cut him in half. Maybe Tual didn’t need to kill everyone she loved, because she was making a good stab at it herself.

Hand knotted through her hair, Lia tried to block it all out, replacing the thoughts with how she’d survived in Chaol. Ewan had been hunting her. The Warlord had been right behind him Tual had promised to kill her whole family. Calsta’s oaths had hung over her like an ax. Through it all, her father had been there trying to fix things. Aria had been there to pour honey onto Lia’s hairbrush and salt into her tea. Mateo had been there, a useless distraction who had nothing better to do than make her want to slap him across the face. And roll her eyes. And laugh, as if maybe there was still something inside her that could be a person, not a Devoted terrified of her own goddess.

The thought of Mateo only made Lia’s chest clench tighter, as if she’d never breathe again. Her feet kicked back and forth, harder and harder, the veil tearing in her clutch.

An aura detached from the camp, coming toward her. Gilesh. Lia tensed as he came closer, wishing he were a thief, a warrior, a murderer for her to fight. It didn’t matter that her sword was probably still lying in the trampled practice field grass. It was like every other moment in her life—at the seclusions, on the hunt for Basists, after she’d escaped Ewan in Chaol—moving, fighting, doing something because she couldn’t do what she truly wanted. Only now it wasn’t helping.

And now, unlike before, it wasn’t Lia’s life at stake.

Gilesh slowed, stopping a few strides behind her. “Miss Lia?” he asked.

She turned slowly, stretching her arms, her legs, every muscle that would listen, so they wouldn’t snap into something violent and deadly. Gilesh noticed, but continued toward her anyway, a funny mix of concern and lack of self-preservation. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt.”

“I’m not hurt,” she said stiffly, wondering which part of that was true.

“Miss Anwei whisked that boy you were fighting away quick enough, and we didn’t realize…” He broke off, and Lia closed her eyes, the idea of having to explain what was going on inside her actually worse than feeling it, for some reason. “I mean, are you all right? I’d say you beat him fair and square, even if he managed to get you to drop your sword at the end.”

“Very generous of you.”

“You don’t seem the type to cry because you lost a fight. Is there… something you want to say? I won’t even listen if you don’t want. I’ll just stand here.”

“What type am I, then?” Her feet kicked and kicked.

He eased closer, sitting next to her a few feet down the broken fence. “The type with freckles?”

“A telling character trait.”

“Why’d you take off the veil?” She looked at him, and Gilesh put his hands up, shrinking back. “I’m just hoping if I ask enough questions, you’ll slip up and give something away. We both know something bad happened to bring you to our clan. The same bad thing that killed Shale and has Altahn running so far south that I can hardly remember what snow looks like.” When Lia didn’t volunteer anything, he sighed, looking up at Castor’s blocky silhouette rising from the afternoon horizon. “I’ve known Altahn since we were boys. He’s not acting like himself. Now I’ve found you out here alone, minus your sword even though you’ve been glued to the thing since your first day in camp. You took off your scary veil. And now you’re crying. I get the feeling you know more than I do about what’s going on.”

“You came out here to grill a crying girl for information?”

Gilesh let out a guffaw. “That is exactly what is happening, yes.”

“Probably a good plan.” Lia wiped her cheeks. “Knox is okay?”

“He seemed okay for someone who’d spent the last month lying in his bedroll.” Gilesh shrugged, squinting down the road. “You know, it was Miss Anwei’s fault you dropped the sword.”

If she hadn’t, Knox would be dead. Lia shivered, hugging her arms around her ribs. Or maybe Anwei would have knit Knox back together like the last time someone stabbed him. She slid off the fence and started back toward camp, Gilesh hopping off to follow a step behind as if he were guarding her back. Something she didn’t need, but Lia was glad not to be alone. So many years as a Devoted and then a spiriter, she relished the feel of someone worrying about her rather than worrying if she were functional enough to fulfill her next assignment.

“You know I used to be able to see straight into people’s minds?” Lia glanced back at the Trib. She wondered what the Warlord would say to her revealing something so specific to an untouched. Devoted were supposed to be mysterious and frightening—an easier reputation to maintain when people weren’t quite sure what you were capable of.

Gilesh only grunted in response, as if seeing into people’s minds wasn’t quite as impressive as he would be when they finally crossed swords.

“I don’t need it with you. You say everything you think out loud. And I like it.” She pointed at Altahn’s tent, the only one not yet stripped to a skeleton of poles. Altahn’s, Noa’s, and Anwei’s auras were burning merrily inside. Knox was back in his own tent, though, away from the others. “They’re planning whatever our next move is. Want to come in? We’re stealing a sword.”

“I guess I did know about the sword. It was more the rocks caving in and plants springing up from the ground to strangle us while we sleep that I was concerned about.” Gilesh pursed his lips, eyeing the tent. “Altahn’s been so quiet and withdrawn—I don’t want to push him. Maybe we could just eavesdrop. Then, if he tries to kill me, you can do this stuff.” He raised his hands into a fighting stance and threw a fake punch at Lia’s shoulder.

“Give me a minute. You eavesdrop until I can get inside. We’ll compare notes.” Lia nodded as if a deal had been struck.

Bane came hurrying toward them from the flurry of tents being deconstructed. “You got her to talk to you?” It was the most accusatory question Lia had ever heard. “And you didn’t bring me? Again?”

“She’s going to help us eavesdrop on everything going on.”

“Oh. Helpful and good at killing people.” Bane nodded approvingly. “If you’re forming a new little crew here, I’d really like to be part of it.”

Lia pressed her eyes closed. “Right. I’ll be back. You get started?”

Gilesh nodded enthusiastically. “Bane will get snacks.”

Snacks. I wonder if he knows what Devoted eat. Lia watched Bane and Gilesh melt into the bustle of the camp before she walked toward Knox’s aura. Vivi’s head came up from his place outside the tent as she passed, baring all his teeth.

“I didn’t leave you here because I don’t want you, Vivi.” She walked up to him, laughing when he rolled onto his feet, immediately snuffling her hands for a treat. “I don’t have anything.”

Vivi threw back his head with a mournful moan.

“Dramatic as ever. Your new braids look nice, though.” Once she’d given him one last stroke, Lia turned back to the tent, steeling herself against the rage still molten inside her. Anwei was back. A path toward Tual meant there was a direction for that rage to flow. Not against Knox or Anwei or anyone else. Against Tual, because he was the one who deserved it.

It didn’t change the fact Lia had lost control and attacked her dearest friend.

One more calming breath. No, two. Then she pushed through the flap to find Knox sitting on his bedroll, hands in fists.

“I’m really sorry,” she said quietly. “I don’t know what came over me. Are you all right?”

Knox stood up, rolling the shoulder she’d hit. “You’re a lot less rusty than I expected after two years under that veil.”

She blinked. “You’re not mad? I almost gutted you.”

“If you were going for my gut, then I take it back. Your aim is way off.” His hand flitted up to touch his neck where she’d almost struck him. “Maybe it’s fair after what must have happened in the tomb.”

“Doesn’t count when it’s a ghost doing the stabbing.”

“If only that were true.” Knox’s smile was a bit strained. “Anwei says she got what we need to find Tual. Once we’re moving toward Aria and Anwei’s got a plan to get us in, you’ll feel less like stabbing people. This time we can actually fix things—not just push it down like you used to.”

We’re going to fix this. Lia’s breath caught in her throat, the memory of smoke in her lungs. Some of it couldn’t be fixed. Her parents weren’t coming back. But Anwei had promised to fix the rest. A flush of determination put air in Lia’s starved lungs. “What are you doing skulking around in here instead of planning with the others?” She grabbed Knox’s arm and pulled him up. “Calsta above, I’m so glad you’re awake. Noa tried to put beads in my hair.”

He laughed, following her to the tent flap, but tugged free of her before she could lead him outside. “Noa has a short attention span. If she’s bugging you, give her a dirty word to rhyme and she’ll be occupied for hours.”

Lia went through the flap, holding it open for him, but Knox still didn’t follow. “You’re not coming?”

“I can’t. Anwei…” Knox’s cheeks flushed a little.

“Anwei… what?” She gave his shoulder a push. “Come on!”

“I thought…” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, the ends curling at the nape of his neck. “Calsta’s breath! I can’t talk to you about this.”

Lia frowned, clapping his shoulder again with her open hand. “Talk to me about what? Did Anwei miss healing something?” She jabbed a fist toward his ribs, but he moved too quickly, catching Lia’s wrist before her knuckles could connect. “See? You’re fine. Anwei could use a good dose of Devoted tactics to round out whatever she’s planning. Spill whatever the problem is before I get annoyed.”

“She just… we just…” Knox’s mouth hung open a second. “I’ve only been conscious for less than an hour after weeks of… not? Maybe Anwei’s worried about why or how or what changed. And things are weird with her….” He looked around, hands helplessly gesturing to bundles of fabric and poles that had been tents a few minutes earlier. “I don’t even know how we got here or what’s supposed to happen next. She asked me to sit this out.”

“And you just… do what she says?” Lia fell back a step, confusion blooming inside her. She looked toward Altahn’s tent, where Anwei’s aura shone out like a glistening white lie. “What is with you two? I’ve seen the way she looks at you—I saw it way more than anyone should have to over the last few weeks. Your aura is gone, but Calsta’s still in there. It’s like you don’t even have to keep your oaths, and you’re neck-deep in herbs.” She jabbed his arm, and he flinched, rubbing the inside of his elbow where she’d poked him. “All I had to do was touch Ewan back in Chaol, and Calsta took every last drop of energy away from both of us.”

Knox’s cheeks flushed, and Lia could feel hers heating to match, because it was obvious that he had touched Anwei without the same consequences. But Lia didn’t really want to think about it. She knew the rules weren’t exactly what they’d been taught in the seclusions. Mateo had told her about what magical bonds were supposed to be—she’d seen it down in the tomb, all the reliefs with Patenga and the man he loved, both of them obviously still crammed to the gills with energy from the gods. Calsta wanted you to love only her, except for when she didn’t, apparently.

But Knox? With a girl? With anyone? Much less Anwei of all people, who reeked of banned magic. It didn’t square in Lia’s mind with her friend, the Devoted who had been so steady, so dutiful, so… well, devoted.

She looked away, embarrassed, because even the way Knox held himself was different from before. He was her brother, the other half of her team. Lia didn’t mind adding people to the team, but this wasn’t the same. Knox really had changed, and it was Anwei who’d changed him.

Knox’s hand slammed into Lia’s shoulder, taking her by surprise. He pushed her hard enough to make her stumble into the path, rolling his eyes like he was twelve and she’d just given him a good flick between the eyes as the prize for being second up the seclusion training wall after her. “Just go. Fill me in later.”

She went, feeling a tiny bit better.

Gilesh gave her a jaunty Trib salute from where he was loitering outside the tent, and she returned it with great solemnity before entering. Noa and Altahn both looked up from a pile of old papers when she walked in, Anwei standing up from the other side of the table. “There you are. Calsta’s breath, Lia! What were you thinking, sparring with Knox?”

Lia sat down, not liking that Anwei thought she was in charge of Knox. “What did you find?”

“Knox has… been sick.” Anwei didn’t quite look at Altahn, who had gone back to sketching something on a piece of paper. “He needs to rest.”

“He wanted to fight. He was trying to make me feel better. And he’d probably be pretty helpful planning things with us.”

“I want to give him time to recover before—” Anwei suddenly went still, her eyes darting toward the tent where Lia had left Knox. She started running before Lia could extract herself from the low table, but Lia could see it too—Knox’s aura frantically flashing. By the time she got to the doorway, he’d begun to drain.

Lia ran after the healer all the way to the tent. Anwei crashed to her knees next to Knox, who was lying on the ground, his eyes rolled back into his head.

“Calsta’s bastard son.” Anwei pulled open Knox’s tunic, her hands frantic as she jerked the fabric back from his left side to expose the knob of twisted white skin where a gaping stab wound should have been.

“He was awake only a minute ago!” Lia’s voice came out faint, her hands opening and closing because they were still empty. Useless. A single drop of blood welled at the center of the wound.

Anwei tore open her medicine bag and extracted a jar of salve Lia had seen her spread across the wound before. Her hands shook as she tried to undo the clamp. “You were here when he woke up. What happened?” she asked quietly.

“He just… woke up. He was fine.…” Lia licked her lips, the shine of Knox’s aura thinning out, like a Devoted in the last throes of wasting sickness. She lowered her voice. “Anwei, Mateo had episodes kind of like this.”

“He smells like her. The ghost.” Anwei scrubbed a hand across her nose. Jerking back from Knox, she fumbled to unlock her trunk, almost bending the metal joinery to tear it open. Rooting through the contents, Anwei grabbed hold of something at the very bottom and went very, very still.

“What is it?” Lia rose onto her knees to see past Anwei into the trunk. Her fingers were clasped hard around something wrapped in a dirty blanket. “Is that…?”

Anwei drew in a shuddering breath and pulled out a long blade of pockmarked caprenum. The sword that had killed Knox’s sister. The one that had linked him to Willow. The one that had made him attack all of them in the tomb, and the one Tual had stabbed through him. Lia sank down next to Knox, her heart racing. “I thought that thing melted in the tomb! How did you…? Why did you bring that with us?”

“It was melted. It was just a hilt.” Anwei’s voice strung tight around her neck, each word choking. “I could still feel Willow inside him, and—”

“We need to get rid of it!”

“If melting it didn’t get Willow out of him, then we have to figure out what will, Lia! We can’t just leave it behind and hope it isn’t a factor!” Anwei shoved the sword back into the trunk and locked it, wiping her hands down her tunic. “How could it have grown back? When did it grow back? Today? Is that why he woke up?”

Altahn burst through the tent flap, Noa a step behind him. Catching sight of Knox, Altahn slowed, hands full of papers he’d brought from the tent. Lia didn’t miss the way his eyes stilled on the raised skin scarring Knox’s side, the drop of blood now a runnel that pooled under him on the tent floor. “What happened?”

“He overextended himself, is all.” Anwei picked the salve back up, her voice so calm Lia wouldn’t have believed that only a moment ago she’d been panicking. She dipped two fingers into the oily salve and smeared it across the top of the scar, the blood sticky as if it was already solidifying into a scab. Noa’s hand crept up to cover her mouth.

“You never told me how he was wounded.” Altahn didn’t come any closer, hovering just inside the tent flap.

“He’ll be all right.” Anwei wiped her oily fingers on a cloth from her bag, then closed the jar with sure hands.

“He was all right. I’ve never seen a wounded man act this way—is it… something unnatural? Did Tual do something—”

“Last I checked, shapeshifters don’t suck your soul out through your stomach,” Noa whispered. “Though I suppose I could be wrong.”

Lia settled on Knox’s other side, waiting for the healer to meet her eyes. When Anwei finally looked up, her expression was frighteningly easy. Like nothing at all had happened, and Knox was some patient with the sniffles, not a boy with a torn soul and a hole through his gut that shouldn’t have healed.

Come to think of it, Anwei was all smiles most of the time. For a moment Lia caught herself wishing for gloves and her veil. Anwei was so different from her twin, who wore his thoughts and emotions like a fancy broach on his lapel.

“The fastest way down to Forge would be by river.” Anwei stowed the salve in her bag and looked up at Altahn, continuing their conversation from the tent as if nothing was wrong. “If messengers travel by road, we could have a week before Tual gets word that we found the library records. I messed things up enough down in the stacks that it could be days before they realize the folio is gone. A boat would get us there in days.”

“I can’t take Vivi on a boat,” Lia said quietly.

“Or my riders,” Altahn interjected. “The horses, our wagons…”

“Lia, you’d move much more quickly than we could if you rode. You could even go cross-country.”

“We can’t leave my riders.” Altahn’s voice was firm.

“I wouldn’t want Lia to go alone,” Anwei purred. “A girl out in the forest on her own? Maybe she could take an escort of two or three riders?”

Lia’s skin pebbled at her tone, the healer somehow frail and weak as she smiled bravely at Altahn. When he looked away, Anwei’s expression morphed into something fierce. “A little help?” she mouthed at Lia.

“Yes, I would definitely love to let Vivi eat a few of your riders and their horses,” Lia deadpanned.

Anwei’s fists clenched for a second, but then she was inching sideways to make room for Noa, and Lia wondered if she’d imagined it. The dancer reached toward Knox as if she wanted to help, but stopped well short of touching him, her fingers clenching. Lia tried to see what was making her hesitate, but the high khonin only brushed her fingers across Falan’s flower in her hair as if she were praying to the goddess. The same hair stick that had struck Ewan’s neck, distracting him the split second Lia had needed to fight back.

Lia’s breath hitched, and she forced her mind to focus wholly on Knox’s chalky skin, willing the image to fade. Noa had guts—maybe more than any of them, facing down Ewan and Vivi together with nothing but a hair stick. Maybe there was something about Knox she could see the rest of them couldn’t.

“If Tual Montanne doesn’t know we’re after him already—” Altahn was saying.

“He probably thinks he has more time before we find him,” Anwei pointed out. “This is going to be our only chance to get close.”

Forge. That was where Mateo had said he’d found the painting of the nameless god and Calsta together, but he’d neglected to mention that he’d grown up there.

“I… could follow.” Lia’s aurasight brushed over Gilesh, who was hovering just outside. “Horses will slow Vivi, but Anwei’s right. One or two wouldn’t be so bad if you feel like we need the numbers.” She looked at Altahn, then Anwei, the agitation still present in the quickness of the healer’s fingers. Lia let go of the clench in her stomach. Anwei had been keeping Knox alive all this time. Hiding him from the Warlord for a year. Knox trusted Anwei.

Anwei could take care of him, even if he was sick like Mateo. Or sick like something else.

So, she did what she knew Anwei wanted. “Even with extra riders, I’ll probably beat you down there.”

Noa grinned, nudging her with an elbow. “Boat versus auroshe? I’ll take that bet.”

“You’ll have to bet with something I want, because Devoted don’t take coin.” Lia turned to Altahn. “I’m friends with Gilesh and Bane. Can they ride fast?”

Altahn’s fingers were loose around the sheaf of papers he’d brought from the tent, but Lia suddenly noticed the muscles clenching in his shoulders. His eyes were hard, as if counting the people in the tent.

If he went with Anwei on the boat, he’d be outnumbered. Were things really so strained between them? Lia frowned, wondering how she’d missed it. Of course Altahn didn’t want to leave behind his clan… but the entire Trib group being with them wouldn’t be useful if the plan was to sneak in without Tual noticing. They couldn’t go running through Forge with thirty Trib. Not unless they wanted to announce their presence with horns and fanfare.

Altahn bowed his head an inch, caving. “I suppose that makes sense, given the facts. I’ll look into chartering a boat.”

“I know someone with a boat near Rentara—an old friend who’ll do it as a favor. He’ll know to keep it quiet.” Anwei smiled at Altahn’s slow blink. “Benefits of working with a goddess.”

To Altahn’s credit, he only rolled his eyes a little. “So long as you’re sure this is the best way to get to the sword. And to get rid of the monster.” He turned to walk out, giving Knox one last worried look. “My father never meant to leave Trib land. The thought of him under all those rocks and trees…” The congenial expression he always wore flickered, something steely and determined peeking out between the gaps. “We couldn’t even get to his body.”

Anwei stood, touching his arm softly. “That sword can kill Tual. Shapeshifter blades are the only thing that can do it. We’re going to find him and avenge your father.”

Was that a hint of tears shining from her eyes? Lia blinked, wondering if she’d imagined it. But then Altahn seemed to soften, responding to whatever it was Anwei was doing. He covered Anwei’s hand with his own. “Thank you. I hope Knox feels better once we’re on the move.” He gave her hand a cautious pat, then walked out.

Lia waited until he was gone to look up at Anwei. “He doesn’t know it was you?”

Noa perked up. “What did Anwei do?”

Shooting an exasperated look at Lia, Anwei knelt back down to check Knox’s pulse, then put an ear to his mouth to listen for breaths. “Knox doesn’t seem any worse than before. He should be stable enough to move. We’ll need to watch him very closely.”

Lia took hold of Knox from under the shoulders, helping drag his dead weight to his bedroll. She couldn’t stop her mind from circling back to Altahn softening at Anwei’s promise of vengeance. Because it had been Anwei’s magic that had shaken the earth and collapsed the tunnel Altahn’s father had been using to get into the tomb. She’d lost control down there—maybe she’d never had control in the first place—growing a whole forest with the violence of an attack as she tried to fix the hole Tual had made in Knox. As if all Anwei had been able to do in her panic was command Knox’s ruptured humors to grow, and the spillover had torn the world apart.

“You can’t just go quiet. Now it feels like there’s a secret,” Noa prodded when neither of them answered. “I like secrets! What did Anwei do? She gets away with everything.”

“Not everything.” Anwei smoothed the heavy down-filled blanket she’d procured for Knox. “Altahn originally hired me to steal Patenga’s sword to take the blame for things missing from the dig. He and the dig director were going to use me as a scapegoat.” Anwei smiled sweetly, and Lia wondered if Noa noticed that she hadn’t answered her question. “We’re on better terms now, is all.”

“Are you? He keeps calling you ‘Yaru’ like you’re going to start sprouting thief devotees who pray for silver rounds to multiply in their pockets.” Noa giggled, turning to Lia. “But if you mean that Anwei’s firing with a few more arrows than the rest of us, he definitely doesn’t know.”

Lia gave Knox’s hollow cheeks one last worried look before going to pack up. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve got Calsta on your side. So does Knox. Anwei’s got the nameless god.” Noa shrugged when Anwei’s head jerked up. “Wasn’t that hard to figure out after you disappeared during the governor’s ball when no one else could get out. There was a hole in the wall with ivy that wasn’t there the day before growing through it. Then plants start growing out of the tomb, and somehow you’re keeping Knox alive when he’s obviously not supposed to be?” She took a quick breath, visibly steeling herself before gesturing to Knox, keeping her hands well away from him. Again, Lia wondered what it was she was so frightened of.