The site to which Tygg was currently heading was under the stewardship of the Taubastets, but the Tearians to the east had one also, as did a clan far to the north. At one time the Nahanna, an order of women with great spiritual gifts, had been stewards of another Cloud Walker site not far from this one. But it was destroyed during the War of Shade, along with the women who had vowed to keep it safe. The protectors of the current locations had come to understand the importance of the writings within the caves, not only to the inhabitants of Aredyrah, but to Sister World, that place from which the Imelas hailed. As a result they had a long-standing agreement to study them and to guard them.
A young man stepped suddenly onto the path and stopped to face him.
Tygg was relieved to see it was Haisa, Nauney’s brother.
“Tygg,” Haisa said in friendly greeting. But there was worry in his eyes.
“The Path be with you, Haisa,” Tygg said in acknowledgement, but he did not break his stride and passed him.
Haisa turned and hustled to keep pace. “Please, Tygg,” he implored. “Do not do this.”
“I go to consult with Baunti,” he said as casually as he could. “Nothing more.”
Haisa grabbed Tygg’s arm, stopping him short. “You would lie to me, Tygg?”
“I will consult the Cloud Walker if Baunti feels I must,” Tygg said. “I am duty sworn. You know that.”
“Do not be a pawn in their games, Tygg. Only the gods have sway over our destinies. No person can manipulate what is meant to be. Not even you.”
“What the gods desire of this world is more than clear, Haisa. It is written on the wall. I have seen it. But in order for these events to happen, we must set them into motion. Why else would the gods have given us their messages? Why else would they ask us to set our Qwa t’seis?” Tygg shook his head. “The Cloud Walkers are given their visions so that future generations will heed their words and use them as a guide. I, for one, intend to follow the path the gods set for us.”
“The gods, bah!” Haisa said. He released Tygg’s arm with a shove. “Not all of us share your respect for them. You know as well as I the messages the Cloud Walkers placed upon the walls have more than one meaning. The spirit elders have been studying and debating them for years. No, Tygg. You are not following the Qwa t’sei the gods set for you. You are risking your life for the ambitions of a few old men.”
“The wisest of men,” Tygg reminded him. “It is my life. My choice.”
“And what of Panya? Does she not factor into this?”
“Of course she does! Do not test me, Haisa. We have been over this before. Now step aside.”
Haisa stood fast for a determined moment more. “Very well,” he said. “Let us pray the gods do not ask for your daughter as they did your wife.”
“Enough!” Tygg shoved past him, but he hated the bitterness that had passed between them. He knew the gods expected sacrifices. Nauney had been one of them, but Panya? Surely the gods would not take her from him, not after the loyalty he had shown them.
Tygg marched on, his breath quickening. The incline was steep, and though he had traveled it many times, it never failed to leave his lungs burning. The path took a sudden turn, leading him around a wall of granite dotted with woven drapes and wooden pole ladders. Each ladder led to the living quarters of the spirit elders, those whose duty was to study and share the knowledge found in the cave.
He stopped before a tattered drape and paused to gather his wits. He had passed through this faded portal many times during the past five years, ever since his wife had died and he had come begging for answers. Tygg had been a broken man then, unable to see any future without Nauney, barely able to put one foot in front of the other, even to care for their infant daughter. He had not been a believer then, and for that Nauney had died; he was sure of it. The guilt of her passing had weighed like a stone in his heart, but Baunti had taught him that restitution could be made—if he followed the path the gods set for him.
“Baunti,” Tygg said, waiting respectfully outside the drape. “May I seek council with you?”
“Aye, boy. Enter,” an elderly voice replied from the other side.
Tygg pushed aside the flap and stepped inside. The den was
a small, naturally formed cave, its interior warmed by thick candles and woven rugs, its simple furnishings piled with parchments. But Baunti’s home was bare compared to those who lived in the village below. Here, in the higher perches, there were few luxuries to be found. Those who dwelt here considered themselves closer to the gods than most, and so had turned away from earthly comforts and toward that which the After Place would
one day offer them.
“Sit,” Baunti ordered. He narrowed his one fully functioning eye, scrutinizing Tygg with interest.
Tygg turned his gaze to his own feet, for the first time grateful the old man’s other eye was blind. Two eyes trying to see into his soul would have been more than he could bear. He stepped to a nearby mat and sat as instructed, then turned his attention to Baunti, who settled on a mat across from him.
“So, you have brought a Pedant and an Imela to Adjo,” Baunti said. He poured tea into a mug and handed it to Tygg, pouring a second for himself.
“Aye,” Tygg said.
Baunti took a sip of his drink, then set the mug aside. “Tell me of them.”
“The Imela is Taubastet. I am certain she is the one my Qwa t’sei spoke of.”
“And the Pedant?”
“It is Or’n,” Tygg said. “As you knew it would be.” He turned his face from the old man, praying Baunti had not seen the regret that was surely written there.
“I am pleased that you were able to put your personal feelings aside,” Baunti said. “I must confess, I had my doubts.”
Tygg’s eyes turned to his. “Did you?”
Baunti smiled, his toothless grin deepening the lines of his face. “There is a friendship between you and Orryn, is there not?”
“Aye.” Tygg clenched his mug tightly. He had never confessed that friendship to anyone, not even Baunti.
“And yet you brought him here, knowing his fate would be in your hands.”
“His fate is as the gods wish it,” Tygg said. “I had no choice.”
“Oh, you had a choice,” Baunti said. “You always have a choice. Regardless, it is done. He is here now, as is the Imela.”
“Aye.”
Baunti sighed. “So you have chosen this path over the others.”
“I have chosen the path that will secure the survival of our world! Does that mean nothing?”
“It means everything to
us
. But what of the rest of it?”
“That is why I have come. You have studied the walls, Baunti. This Qwa t’sei, the one I have chosen; is it time to set the final phase?”
Baunti tilted his head. “Do you feel it is?”
Tygg nodded. “I do.”
“Then you must do so.”
Tygg set the mug aside and rose. “Thank you, Baunti. I owe you my salvation.” With a bow of respect, he turned to leave, but the old man stopped him short.
“You owe me nothing,” Baunti said, struggling to rise from his mat.
Tygg helped him to his feet.
The old man stood before him. “There is one more piece of wisdom I wish to bestow on you,” he said, “so listen well.” Baunti placed his palm upon Tygg’s chest. “This is where the gods dwell, boy. Not in a temple. Not in the clouds. Not even in a cave. But
here
.”
Tygg looked down at the old man’s hand. He could feel his own heart thumping against it.
“The Cloud Walker has interpreted the choices that await you,” Baunti continued, “but it is the voice in your heart that will tell you which ones to make. Remember that.”
“Aye, Baunti. I will. But I must also remember my great-grandsire from many generations back. He listened to his heart. And for that he will be forever known as the Great Betrayer.”
“Perhaps that was as it was meant to be. Who are we to know?” Baunti removed his hand from Tygg’s chest. “The Path be with you, Tygg.”
“And with you,” Tygg replied. He turned away and stepped outside, then aimed his feet toward his destiny. How unfortunate that Orryn had to play a part in it.
The entrance to the Cave of Souls was wide and low, huddled beneath a domelike overhang that protected it and the knowledge it contained from vandals and prying eyes. At one time there had been no need to guard the cave; no Taubastet would dare disrespect it, and what enemies they had lived far from the reaches of the cliffs. But the Syddian wars had changed all that. Now the cave was
protected by well-armed sentinels, warriors who would surrender their lives before allowing anyone unauthorized to enter.
Tygg increased his pace, and with it his determination. In his youth he’d had no interest in spirituality or what awaited him in the afterlife. He lived for the here and the now, commanded by the euphoria of the hunt, whether it be man, woman, or beast. He loved the exhilaration of battle, the thrill of coaxing a woman to his bed, and the primitive rush of taking down an animal with a single blade in his hand. He had been a wild, rebellious boy. Until he met Nauney. She had tamed him and guided him and stolen his heart, but he had refused to let her claim his soul. And for that she was taken from him.
After her death Tygg had sought forgiveness by turning to the spiritual teachings of the spirit elders. If he did his duty by the gods, they said, he would one day be reunited with Nauney. Then his soul would be with hers forever. More than anything he longed to make amends, to gain the forgiveness of the gods. But the spirit elders said there was only one way for him to do so. He had to set a Qwa t’sei.
To set one’s Qwa t’sei was to make a vow to both gods and tribe, to choose a future and make it happen for the good of all, regardless of the cost to self. It was a great sacrifice and only those carefully selected were allowed to do it. In the past the ritual had been expected of all the warriors of their tribe, but after the failing of his great-grandsire the ritual had come to require much more training and control. And now, with the Taubastet population dwindling after so many years of warfare with the Syddians, it was agreed the time had come for a savior. Tygg was determined to be that savior. Not only would he save his own soul, but he would one day be reunited with Nauney. How he was to go about this he did not know, that was what he would find out today. But he did know it involved Orryn and the Imela, and he could only pray he wasn’t saving his soul at the sacrifice of theirs.
The history between Orryn’s people and Tygg’s had been a tumultuous one, but it was the Tearians to the east who had performed the first genocide against the Taubastets. It had begun centuries before with the sport-killing of the Taubastets’ holy cats, followed by the taking of their most sacred relic, the Kee. The relic had been given to them by the goddess Bastet and was valued above all else. But the Tearians were a powerful kingdom ruled by a demonic king, and it wasn’t long before the Taubastets were slaughtered and driven out and the Kee lost to them.
Those that survived fled and settled in the southwest where they lived in solitude for many years. The Kiradyns to the north avoided them for the most part, but when one of the Kiradyn clans, the Sandrights, was corrupted by a Tearian trickster, their name became Syddia and a new purge was begun.
At first Syddia’s governing body was subtle in its assimilation of the region, but over time the outlying clans were forced to either adapt or die. Only the Basyls managed to separate from them, though it took some doing and a great deal of bloodshed. But the Taubastets fared far worse. What had started as protests and skirmishes plunged into all-out war when a Taubastet spy learned the Syddians had the Kee in their possession.
The fight to reclaim the relic endured for many centuries, only recently had a treaty been signed, but it was a fragile peace. The Taubastets still did not have their sacred Kee, and the Syddians swore they had no knowledge of its whereabouts.
But Tygg knew differently.
He approached the cave entrance and was immediately stopped. “By whose authority do you come?” a guard demanded, aiming his spear at Tygg’s chest. It was only a formal warning. Tygg had been there before, once to name his Qwa t’sei, the second time to learn more of what it entailed. Today would be his third and final visit, and it would be the most important of all: the phase of his Qwa t’sei that would reveal his ultimate goal and what it meant to not only Orryn and the Imela, but also to the survival of the Taubastet people, both in this world and the next.
He bowed to the warrior. “I am Tygg, come by the authority of Baunti, spirit elder,” he said.
The guard withdrew his spear and straightened his stance. “You may pass,” he said.
Tygg nodded and stepped past him, but then he felt the weight of what he was about to do. It was here, within the Circle Chamber, that he would learn the closing chapter, and once he accepted it, there would be no turning back. In times past, when there were fewer spirit elders to guide them, an individual would make but one vow to a Cloud Walker. It was they who transcribed the gods’ messages onto the walls of the cave and set the Qwa t’seis. But after what had happened with Tygg’s ancestor, the Great Betrayer, extra precautions were taken. Perhaps one vow would tempt betrayal, but with three no one dared risk it.
The Great Betrayer had been little older than Tygg when he disobeyed his Qwa t’sei, thus allowing the demonic god Marcassett to continue her assault on his people. His name could not be spoken, but Tygg knew it and sometimes whispered it to himself: Tyym. It made his grandsire seem real, human, not the caricature of betrayal he had been painted to be. Somehow Tygg did not feel the man’s decision warranted him being cast into oblivion, nameless and despised. Tyym had only followed the voices in his heart, Tygg reasoned, and yet, it did not matter what Tygg thought.
I will bring honor back to our family, grandsire,
Tygg said to himself.
Perhaps one day they will forgive what you did.
But he knew it wasn’t likely. His grandsire had not been of Taubastet blood, only an orphan raised by them, and when he left and did not return, he not only disavowed his oath to the tribe, but abandoned the woman who carried his child.