"He went."
Riuza's mouth pinched at the corners, her discomfort becoming more evident. The rest of her round face stayed serene, though she flinched when a distant Guardsman's shout pierced through the wooden walls of the longhouse. Nevertheless, she continued.
"At first Kozua promised not to do anything, but after hearing what the spirits had seen, he believed he could eradicate the Coretian threat and save the village from an invasion, or occupation, or whatever they might have planned.
"He knew Grandmother Ashi would be furious if she found out what he was now planning. He didn't tell me, either, knowing I would try anything to stop him. That night when I told him about what I saw, he convinced me he wouldn't do anything. I was young, just a child, and he was my older cousin. I trusted him not to lie to me.
"Grandmother Ashi was a powerful leader, and she taught Kozua everything he knew. His connection to the Passage, his Strength, was beginning to surpass even hers. He was a young man with great discipline and a lot to sacrifice. The spirits were drawn to him like bees to clover.
"He went at night just a few days later, not wanting the Coretians to make any moves before he got to them. Not one Hatawan witnessed the event, but the Coretians fear us to this day because of it." Riuza looked at Rinnet. "He tells me even you were afraid of him."
"Not of him," Rinnet said through her teeth. His powers, maybe—but she wouldn't admit that aloud.
"Maybe not," Riuza said, though her sideways glance suggested she thought otherwise. "But you spoke with one of the Guardsmen, and she led you to me. She must have told you some of what happened."
Hakolly's brother. Rinnet struggled to link the two. If whatever Kozua did made a Coretian whose whole life was the Guard resign, he had to have hidden power from her. Scrawny, pathetic Kozua. The possibility ate at her. "The Guardsman didn't tell me anything useful," Rinnet replied. "It seems nobody knows what happened, if anything did."
"Something happened," Riuza asserted. "The camp was in ruins. The tents blew away or ended up torn to pieces. What few structures the Coretians built burned to the ground—in fact, everything in the camp went up in flames. But not before Kozua went through himself.
"Coretians who tried to stop him found themselves inexplicably pinned to trees or thrown into the undergrowth. They couldn't even get close—he had a wall of spirits around him. All the previous week he had fasted, held vigil, even drawn blood. By then, he looked more dead than the spirits. But few Hatawans, if anyone, suspected much. He was always walking along the edge of the Passage.
"But the spirits certainly took notice. Even as Kozua himself was barely able to stand, they fed off his Strength and rampaged through the camp at his silent command. He only meant to chase the Coretians away, hopefully for good. But he found something after clearing a tent of high-ranking Guardsmen.
"Plans, written in deep black ink and shut with a wax seal he hardly had the strength to break. Not to invade from the camp right away, but to settle in Hatawa and attack from the inside. The full invasion wasn't due for another year or two.
"Sick with hunger, dazed by lack of sleep, and now, wracked with the fear that peaceful Hatawans might one day be at the mercy of the brutal Coretians—Kozua lost control. He was..." Riuza searched for a word, tilting her head. "Spirit-blinded," she said, not her own phrase. "Kozua wanted the Guardsmen gone for good, and he wanted them gone that night. And with my own vision and the spirits around him, he knew he could do it.
"He rampaged without ever moving from the entrance of the tent. The fire at the center of the camp grew monstrous and leapt over its bounds. It surged to the wooden buildings and devoured them until nothing but ash remained, regardless of the people trapped within. Great winds swirled and flung tents, weapons, and Guardsmen across the campsite, hurling everything into the trees. The high-ranking Guardsmen Kozua had removed from the tent felt invisible hands clenching around their necks, squeezing tighter and tighter until each of them dropped to their knees, then collapsed, the darkness of death curling over their vision. The last they could have seen was the hot embers of their camp hissing in the damp earth, and the Coretian boots fleeing over them.
"That, too, was the last Kozua saw that night. As the last living Coretians fled, he fell from exhaustion, and the spirits dissipated. He woke the next afternoon in the healer's longhouse, having just been carried back. Barely alive, he was starved, dehydrated, and ill even beyond physical terms. He still clutched the Coretians' plan of invasion in one hand.
"Grandmother Ashi demanded to see him right away. She allowed no one but herself and the village healer to go anywhere near him. I begged her to let me see him. Kozua was as close as a brother to me. And even though Grandmother denied my pleas, I knew soon enough what had happened as the village started to talk.
"As the story pieced together, the dread I had been sensing sank into my stomach. I couldn't keep food or water down. Kozua had attacked the camp. The Hatawans who had seen the aftermath found bodies. He had killed. And I was the one who gave him the idea.
"Meanwhile, Grandmother Ashi was furious, and horrified. He tried to argue with her that he had saved more lives, the lives of the village, by removing the Coretian threat. He showed her the invasion plans to soothe her anger—'This is what would have happened,' he told her.
"He watched the color drain from her face. 'You have brought them down upon us,' she said, and left the longhouse.
"She was right. The Coretians came. They brought hundreds this time, enough to easily overpower our small village. There was no negotiating. There was no explaining what happened. There was shouting, and fire, and Hatawans dragged out of their longhouses until they had collected all of us out in the open.
"They forced us to reveal our leader, threatening to kill every last one of us if we didn't. I saw Kozua, too weak to stand, slumped against the side of the healer's longhouse. Heavy rain obscured his face. I couldn't tell if he was even conscious, and if he was, if he would say something.
"Silence, but for the pounding of the rain in the dirt. I started to speak when Grandmother stepped forward. 'I am,' she said quietly. 'These are my people.'
"They beheaded her. The nearest Guardsman drew his sword that instant. In front of her family, her grandchildren, everyone she loved. She fell to the ground. Someone screamed, a toddler.
"Then everything was chaos. The Guardsmen struck Hatawans down without provocation, slaughtering those who froze in shock and pursuing those who fled. In the midst of it all, I lost my parents. The terrified faces streaming past blurred into a shapeless smear, and I couldn't recognize anyone. Panicked, I could only think of one person I still knew. I ran to Kozua, keeping low to the ground, choked with fear. He still slouched unnoticed by the longhouse in the deepening mud.
"I screamed at him. I shook him. He was lost in a trance, his eyes unfocused and his arms limp at his side. He was still weak from his attack on the camp just days before, but now something in him broke.
"I turned once to see if anyone was coming for us. Something sick in me tried to find Grandmother Ashi's head. But it was lost in the increasing number of bodies on the ground."
Riuza's voice thinned until she stopped, running out of air entirely. Now at least interested, Rinnet scrunched her toes inside her boots and gnawed the inside of her cheek, waiting for the Hatawan to keep going. Of course, she knew how it ended.
"Finally, Kozua grabbed one of my arms and pulled me down next to him. He said nothing, but I was paralyzed with fear and didn't know where else to go. We huddled there by the building, half-hidden by ferns and junipers and rain, as Hatawans tried to run and Coretians hunted them down. The violence moved away with them, the noise thinning into the occasional shriek or sob in the distance. Every now and then a Guardsman would prowl close to us, but then there'd be a crash in the trees across the village and they'd take off after it. Throughout the day, I realized it was Kozua, telling some spirit to rustle the branches in the brush.
"But eventually they found us. The Guardsmen reconvened late in the day, and there were far too many to distract at once.
"Two of them cornered us. The rest went about setting up camp, dragging Hatawan bodies to the edge of the woods and leaving them there. One of them hauled Kozua up with one hand and held him off the ground, but when the other tried to do the same with me, he couldn't get anywhere close. Something kept blocking him.
"The Guardsman's eyes widened, then narrowed. 'It's this one,' he said, pointing at me. 'Has to be the one from the camp. Looks about right, too.'
"'It wasn't her,' Kozua rasped, his first words all that day. 'Every Hatawan can do the things you saw at the camp, given the right discipline and training.'
"The Guardsman in front of me eyed us both. I could sense his unease, though he hid it well. 'Most of them went down without a fight,' he said, an ugly sneer on his face. He almost looked to be grinning."
"'Hatawans are sworn to peace,' Kozua said. 'We are all but forbidden to use our skills against outsiders. And while every Hatawan has the potential for the kinds of things you saw, most don't have the control for that kind of Strength.'"
"I couldn't believe it. He was betraying our knowledge of the Passage, the knowledge Hatwans held sacred and preserved across generations. Knowledge that, though neither of us knew at the time, the Coretians and Tevarians had lost in ancient times. He all but handed Hatawa and its secrets to the Coretians. But I couldn't stop him. I couldn't so much as blink.
"The Guardsman holding up Kozua—" Pause. "—his name was Grimond."
Rinnet bit down hard.
"He seemed to think this over," Riuza said, "holding us both there for several minutes. 'We should keep at least one alive,' he said to his partner at last. 'The queen will want to know more about this.'
"'She said no survivors,' the other responded. 'No chance for the attacker to survive. And you know how she likes to set an example.'
"'I think this is an exception.' Grimond then turned to me. His hand went toward the hilt of his sword. 'But I think you're too dangerous—'
"'I'm the one holding back your companion,' Kozua said. 'Riuza doesn't do those kinds of things. She can hear the spirits and speak to them directly.'
"He looked right at me while saying that, and it sounded like a plea. The Guardsmen were preoccupied for a moment, trying to understand what Kozua meant about spirits and deliberating which of us to keep alive. He kept staring at me. The Guardsmen's voices faded, and all I could hear was my own pounding heartbeat in my ears. I felt lightheaded.
"Then he mouthed something, and I understood it as clear as if he had spoken: Tell them. He didn't mean the Guardsmen. The haze cleared from my mind.
"Silently, I screamed for spirits. I dug my nails deep into my palms, trying anything to draw their hungry attention. They appeared slowly at first, then many of them all at once. They felt my pain. But more so, I believe they felt the lost opportunity of an entire village of dead Hatawans. All those lives drained, but for what? The spirits can't feed on death. But the last survivors of an entire village?" Riuza's hands curled into fists. "Kozua committed one of the biggest sacrifices without even knowing it. But he was all I had left. I needed him."
"The spirits closed around me. I dedicated myself to one line of thought: Don't kill him. Don't kill anyone. Make the Guardsmen believe the Hatawans are better left alive. Don't kill him. Don't kill him.
"I could never convince the spirits to do anything. I had never had that gift. But they listened, and with so many of them there, they began to repeat my words. At first it was cacophony, all of them babbling like the words were nonsense. But soon, their voices synchronized, and it became one roar of solidarity: Don't kill him. Don't kill him.
"To me, it was deafening. I looked over at Kozua and saw a look of bewilderment cross his expression. 'I can hear them,' he said.
"'That got Grimond's attention. 'Who can you hear?' he said, his hand flying back to his sword.
"Then he froze. He and his companion both stood very still. It was only for a moment. Then he shook his head once, very slowly, and released the sword's hilt. 'Let them live,' he said gruffly, then pointed at me. 'We'll keep this one here. The other...'"
"Don't kill him! Don't kill him! The spirits kept up their senseless shouting, and Grimond's face took on a sense of bewilderment.
"'...we'll send the other deep into Coretian territory, far from his kind.' The other Guardsman started to ask a question, but Grimond cut him off. 'The boy is knowledgeable, and—' He eyed Kozua warily. '—potentially powerful. He's useful alive, but we don't need him inciting something here. But far away, surrounded by uncultured Coretian peasants on some distant estate, under threat of retaliation by the Guard...?" Grimond shrugged his free arm, Kozua still hanging by the back of his shirt in the Guardsman's other hand. "He probably won't last long anyway.'
"The other Guardsman shifted, uncertain. 'What if something happens like it did at the camp, and he attacks the peasants?'
"Grimond snorted. 'They're only peasants.'"
***
Riuza had to take a break. It took several minutes for her to stop shaking, and her palms were each lined with a row of little red crescents. Part of it was reliving the fear from her past. But Rinnet realized now it had something to do with communicating with the spirits, especially after Riuza wiped the sweat from her forehead and glanced over Rinnet's shoulder. "It's hard to talk to you," she muttered, only half teasing. "Most spirits don't want to chatter so much."
"So what was the problem?" Rinnet pressed. "He was obviously powerful, and you could talk to the spirits. They persuaded Grimond to let both of you live." Not quite so shocking, she thought, knowing that Grimond was a spineless fool, but still. "Why didn't Kozua just drive out the Guardsmen a second time?"
"There were far more soldiers," Riuza said. She sounded tired. "It would have been more difficult and resulted in the destruction of what little we had left. And besides, Kozua and I had watched the deaths of everyone we knew, all because Kozua destroyed one camp and killed a few of its soldiers. Who could say what would happen if he did it again?"
"You could have known," Rinnet said, but Riuza shook her head.
"It doesn't work that way," she said. "I told you before. Even the spirits' knowledge of the future is fickle, and they often don't explain all of what they see. It's always shifting and changing.
"And, just as Kozua refused to fight back beyond protecting me, I refused to ask the spirits what they saw. Kozua didn't ask, and I didn't want to know. I didn't want to see a future where we both ended up dead, nor did I want to see a future where we suffered long lives, knowing we helped cause the deaths of everyone we knew.
"Kozua was distraught. He spent day and night pacing the longhouse we were kept in. Guardsmen surrounded the building, though they were too afraid to stay inside with us. Instead, they stripped the longhouse of everything inside and kept a watch posted at all hours. Kozua's pacing eventually made them nervous, and they told him to stop.
"He did, but still remained awake at all times, muttering to himself and tracing shapes in the dirt floor with his fingernails. The Guardsmen rarely brought us food or water, just enough to keep us alive. Even so, Kozua often refused it.
"After days of murmuring to himself, he finally spoke to me. The Guardsmen had just brought us food, one stale roll on a cracked ceramic plate. He stared at it for a long time, then turned to me. 'I need you to find Grandmother Ashi,' he said. 'Bring her near.'
"I burst into tears. The Guardsmen outside the front doorway banged on the wall, yelled at me to stop. I choked back the sobs, trying to stay quiet, but I was terrified. Not just of them—of Kozua, too. He was thin, and pale, so sickly that his eyes sank in and became ringed with gray. He looked more like a corpse than the bodies in the forest.
"But he begged me to do it, and even though I was afraid, I believed Grandmother would have the answers if I could speak to her. Between Kozua and myself, half-dead and filled with fear, the longhouse swarmed with spirits.
"It didn't take long to find her. I searched the Passage, and though I expected to see many familiar faces, the only spirit I recognized was Grandmother. I asked her right away where the others had gone. She said none felt compelled to stay, for none felt the guilt she did at her own failure to protect them.
"I didn't get to speak with her alone very long. Kozua noticed when I began to shake, as I do now." Riuza briefly stretched her quivering arms out, then lowered them. "He begged me to ask Grandmother Ashi one question. I'd never heard him sound so desperate."
"What was it?"
"He said, 'Ask her if she wishes she could come back. Ask if she would take my place to save Hatawa and make things right with the Coretians.'"
"I didn't have to repeat the question. Grandmother laughed, a bitter, wispy sound like an autumn wind tearing dead leaves from the trees. 'If I could.'"
"I repeated her words in a whisper. Suddenly I heard a crash. My eyes flew open to see Kozua plunge a broken piece of plate into his stomach. He spasmed once, then fell. I screamed."
Another long, shaky breath. Riuza switched into her storytelling voice. "He had learned the story of Sunayin from Grandmother, as it had been passed on to her from the previous leader. After he collapsed, Kozua opened his own eyes and saw Grandmother Ashi standing right in front of him. Whole. Alive. He reached for her, and without moving, she somehow got further away. 'Grandmother,' he said. 'You can fix everything. I know you can. Trade with me. Take my form, and speak to the Coretians. You speak well, and they'll listen to you.' He reached for her again, and again found her to be just beyond his fingertips. "I can't do this.'
"Grandmother Ashi laughed her terrible laugh, and this time he could hear it, though I heard nothing after Kozua fell. 'It wouldn't be the same.'
"'You can change people even without your Strength,' Kozua insisted. 'Please. I don't deserve to live after what I did.'
"'The truth comes forth.' Grandmother suddenly swept close, her voice in Kozua's ear. He felt her hand like the burn of ice on his shoulder. 'You are a coward. You were afraid to grant the Coretians peace, and now that you've brought them down upon yourself, you're afraid to face them. You must live with that.'
"'I don't know how to change what happened!'
"'You don't get to change it. Not through me, or anyone else.' She appeared in front of him again. 'Bringing me back would only bring the world unbalance, and myself, the dishonor of living as you. The best you can do now is keep the Hatawan lifestyle of peace and preservation. Accept your fate as it is given to you.'
"Kozua lowered his eyes. 'I will never contact the Passage again.'
"'Don't be ridiculous,' Grandmother snapped. 'You'll squander everything useful I ever taught you. You may be a disgrace, but you're still my grandson, and a descendant of some of the most disciplined Hatawans to ever live. Look now, and you'll see that you've proven it.'
"He followed her gesture, and as if through a veil he could see his body on the ground. It lay separate from where he stood. He spun back to Grandmother. 'Take it now!' he pleaded. 'You still have time to protect Hatawa!'
"'If I have time, so do you,' she said. Then, drawing from her own mysterious Strength, she took Kozua's arm and dragged him through the veil.
"To his dismay, Kozua started to awaken in his physical body, and Grandmother Ashi faded away. She left him with these words: 'Don't disgrace all of Hatawa as you have done to me.'
"Kozua revived in the longhouse. Sharp pain tore through his stomach, and the Coretian faces around him came into focus. He heard me crying again as I held a shred of my own clothes to his wound.
"As you know, he survived, and soon he was sent to live in the southern depths of Coreti. Later invasions resulted in more Hatawans being exiled and far more killed. As for myself, the Guardsmen kept me in this village as they took it over, then the rest of Hatawa. They occupied the best longhouses and forced the northern Hatawans to march south. The ones who live here now were not born here as I was.
"The Guardsmen questioned me often, but I told them little other than what Kozua had already revealed. They found my skills quite useless and haven't come to question me in years. They keep me confined to this longhouse, though I wouldn't leave if I could. I saw what misuse of my Strength could do, and until our meeting I refused all communication—spirits or otherwise."
"But you decided to talk to Kozua when you realized he was here," Rinnet said.
Riuza opened her eyes for the last time, and her shaking stilled. "He was insistent," she said. "I suppose he just wanted to share the entire story so I can write it down."
"Why?" Rinnet asked, annoyed. "And couldn't have just told you and saved me the trouble? I won't be bringing back dead Hatawans if I can help it. Does he want his shame to be known?"
Riuza smiled sadly. A beam from the nearest window cast a line of silver light over the narrow scar on her neck. "He and I were the last survivors of our village, our people. With his death, I am the final living member of the family, and I become its last leader. I will write down our history and our findings through interaction with the Passage. Hopefully somebody, somewhere, can learn from them." Riuza, who had been meeting Rinnet's intent gaze, looked away. "And then I will die here with the rest of my family."