Strange Attractors - Kim Falconer [191]
He couldn’t pull his eyes away from her assault—a frenzy of shape-shifting, a savage and invincible woman. As he lifted his blade the lightning flashed again and she stood before him. His breath caught. Her totems rushed back into her body like water into a whirlpool. Her blade lifted, ready to sever his head. She had him. It was the end. Surrender! the chorus in his mind shouted.
He blanched, falling to his knees. ‘Tio…’ The creatures grappling to escape the prison of his mind gained the rim of his unconscious and in one sudden thrust they burst to light. He convulsed, the memories falling away. The echo of Xane’s past that had kept him entombed was gone. In an instant he knew who he was. He was Jarrod, quantum sentient who’d lost his tulpa body over the cliffs of Corsanon. In front of him was a warrior woman about to split him in two—Rosette, the love of his life. He raised his eyes to hers. ‘Tío. Rosette. Tío. It’s me. I’m…Jarrod.’
Her face transformed, the contorted lines of fury softening to wonder, rapture. Each of her totem animals appeared for an instant, peeking around her as if she were a tree in the wilderness, their eyes wide, blinking. They saw him, recognised him—and so did she.
He wept, warm tears chasing the cold raindrops from his face. He wanted to fall into her arms, to hold her. The battle around him disappeared—the flashes of light, the sounds of clashing steel, screams and snarls—all was subsumed by his awareness of her and his recognition of Self. He opened his mouth to speak then his eyes drifted to her flat belly. ‘The baby,’ he whispered.
She shook her head, her own tears flowing freely.
Maudi, a little help over here?
They turned together at Drayco’s call.
Drayco! They ran. We’re coming!
Jarrod? The temple cat’s voice was quizzical. You’ve shrunk.
He heard Rosette’s laughter as he grabbed his sword. Ah but, Drayco, this body’s real and I’m not through growing yet.
That would explain it then, Drayco said, snarling at the enemy.
Explain what?
Why I couldn’t recognise you.
You told me that young glamour witch was Nell, Dray, Rosette said as she cut down two Corsanons who were swinging their heavy blades her way. I think maybe you need your nose checked.
She was, Maudi.
Kreshkali didn’t agree.
She has the same blood as you and Nell, and Kali. Drayco dodged a blow.
How?
Ask Nell. He spun around. Here they come! About time.
‘Who?’ Rosette asked aloud.
Scylla! And the Sword Master.
An’ Lawrence charged down the ancient steps from the portal riding a brilliant palomino, leading his sword riders straight into the heart of the battle.
‘Fortuna!’ Jarrod cried out.
Definitely fortunate! Rosette whooped delight in his mind.
I meant the horse! He’s riding Fortuna.
Rosette looked confused, but he had no time to explain. The witches were cornered now and he fought to clear a path to Teg. He cut through the surprised warriors, wielding the heavy double blade. When he reached Teg, he dropped to the Lupin’s side, sheathing his sword.
‘Teg? Can you walk?’
The Lupin struggled to raise his head, fangs snapping. Teg, it’s me. Jarrod. Don’t take my hand off. I’m rescuing you.
Teg hesitated. Jarrod? You smell like a Corsanon stableboy.
That’s just my body. Come on. An’ Lawrence is here. You don’t want him to see you floundering in the mud.
Teg morphed bipedal and leaned on Jarrod as he pulled him up. ‘My sword.’ He reached to the empty scabbard.
‘Her High Priestess has it,’ Jarrod said, nodding towards Rosette. ‘Seems she mislaid her own.’
‘High Priestess?’
‘When you see the new trick she’s learned, you’ll elevate her too.’
‘I already have.’ Teg’s voice was a whisper but Jarrod heard it. He walked Teg to the edge of the cliff, the rain washing blood from the Lupin’s face. The battle had moved down to the river, the Corsanons gathering their temple witches, trying to escape. It was over.
‘Speaking of worship, where is Kreshkali in all this? You’ll need her to heal that shoulder.