Jotaha rose to his feet, dragging the remaining two jotahs up until their legs dangled as they hung onto his neck and back. The one on his back grunted as Jotaha crashed into a stone column, slamming his attacker into it again and again. At the same time, he punched the other jotah in his face.
Both sets of arms loosened around his neck, as both jotahs recognized the futility of trying to choke him. The chanu zayul had strengthened the scales around his throat, making crushing attempts extremely difficult for those with unenhanced strength.
This power was what every jotah hoped for. All so they could one day face down the nixirs in the urvaka.
Many even dreamed of crossing the boundary into nixir land and confronting them on their own turf. Jotaha knew this would be a suicide mission. The nixirs’ machines actually worked in their own world, even though the urvaka rendered the metal constructs inoperable. The most highly trained and blessed Jotaha would struggle in a fight against a nixir machine that felt no pain, exhaustion, or hunger. There were also tales of nixir weapons so destructive that they had the power to destroy Gaia herself.
Then there was the twisted nixirs. Jotaha had no idea how many of those roamed the nixir lands. They were stronger, faster, and more agile than the other nixirs, and could climb walls and ceilings as easily as they walked along the ground. They were also not confounded by the absolute darkness of the urvaka, as the other nixirs were.
Jotaha freed himself from the final pair of jotahs with relative ease, casting them aside without a single labored breath.
“So Jotaha needs to practice on nestlings?” Kevos’ mocking voice came from behind Jotaha, and he turned to see the other yan-kanat walking towards him, a spear in each hand. “Is that so you have the strength to defeat your new nixir mate when she eventually turns on you and buries a dagger in your back?”
Jotaha caught the spear Kevos tossed to him with ease, feeling his eagerness for battle rise along with his glow. This fight was long overdue.
“I see the elders let you out of confinement,” he snarled at the sentil with contempt. “You should have taken the opportunity to remove your sorry hide from Draku Rin. Return to your barrens, Kevos. There’s no place on this hallowed ground for those without honor.”
Kevos hissed mockingly as they circled each other. “I have honor, Jotaha. I also still have respect for you, which is why I tried to free you from your burden. You know this as well as I do. As well as the elders do. They set me free because they know I am right. The nixir female will bring ruin to you.” He spread his arms, raising the spear high as he gestured to the audience forming in the arena. “She will bring ruin to all of us!”
A handful of voices in the crowd rose in agreement, falling quickly silent when Jotaha turned his head to seek out their sources.
With the watchers properly cowed, he returned his attention to Kevos. “Sarah is not like the others. She brings no ill will with her to this land.”
“You cannot even understand her, Jotaha!” Kevos growled, swinging his spear down until the tip pointed towards Jotaha. “How would you even know her intent?”
“I understand her now. The chanu zayul have given her knowledge of our language and she can now speak it.”
Kevos’ spear tip dropped to the dirt as he straightened from his fighting stance. His mouth gaped open in shock. “The chanu zayul? What do they have to do with this?”
Jotaha realized that Kevos had not heard about the chanu zayul choosing Sarah as a host. No doubt the elders wanted to keep this information concealed until Sarah was officially introduced to the residents of the skilev.
Kevos had a sharp mind, which made him a dangerous hunter. It took only a few grainfalls for him to understand. “She has been honored by the chanu zayul? A nixir!” He bared his teeth and took up his fighting stance again. “I don’t believe that. This is some trick you and the elder priest of Seta Zul are playing to convince us to accept your unwanted drahi.”
With head spines high, the sentil charged Jotaha. The crash of spear shafts meeting filled the suddenly still air as the audience watched the confrontation in silence.
Kevos was a good fighter—the best when it came to spears. If Jotaha had not been blessed by the chanu zayul so that he was stronger and faster, Kevos might have defeated him with skill alone. Instead, Jotaha was able to break Kevos’ spear after they sparred for nearly a full sandfall, sending the steel tip flying as he closed the distance and grabbed Kevos by the throat.
He lifted the other male up by his neck, reminding him and the watching audience that Jotaha was the strongest among them, as his glow increased with his anger. Kevos still glared down at him, though he struggled to breathe as Jotaha’s fingers tightened around his throat.
Then Kevos used the last of his flagging strength to slash at Jotaha’s face with his bared claws. Jotaha released the other male, his own teeth showing in anticipation. He stepped back, giving Kevos enough room to rise to his feet, one hand at his throat as he coughed.
Jotaha tossed his spear aside, turning to face Kevos again, squaring up as the other male did. They were both hissing now, tongues flicking out to detect the aggression filling the air.
“Now it gets primal,” Kevos snarled, lifting a hand to lick Jotaha’s blood off the tip of one claw.
“That’s just how I like it,” Jotaha said in a low growl.
The audience cheered as the two fighters came together in a brutal clash.
27
The servants came to her door not long after she heard the anteroom door close. She assumed Jotaha had left, without making any effort to convince her that he actually wanted her as his mate.
It turned out her assumption was correct. He’d just left, and sent some terrified servants in his place. She didn’t think they were afraid of him. They were clearly afraid of Sarah. The skittish female yan-kanat wouldn’t meet her eyes, even as they showed her to the room hidden behind a screen in her bedroom that held a large tub made of hammered metal.
They brought her folded-up fabric which she assumed was clothing, probably like the simple dresses they wore that enhanced their slender forms, making them look feminine and graceful, despite their lack of breasts and their very subtle curves at waist and hip. They also brought her a scented cube of wax, which she couldn’t divine a purpose for, a pot of some light, perfumed oil, an actual sea sponge, a small, narrow brush that appeared to be carved from stone and tipped with coarse tan hairs, and a grainy, herby paste in a clay jar that reminded her of an exfoliating scrub.
One of the females slid aside a small stone tile in the wall above the tub, then cranked a handle that had been cleverly concealed in the greenery that seemed to fill the entire room. Plants were everywhere—in pots and planters sitting on the floors or on shelves, or hanging from the ceiling. They were every shade of green, brown, red, and even orange, with leaves of many different sizes—some as large as her hand. The majority of the ceiling center consisted of a pyramidal skylight that looked like it was made of quartz crystal rather than glass, allowing sunlight to spill into the chamber in a prismatic rainbow.
After a handful of cranks on the handle, water poured out of the wall in a rapid gush. The servant kept cranking the handle until water filled the tub.
The other servant knelt to push at some stones that were set beneath the metal tub. Sarah realized they were the same kind of warming river stones that Jotaha had used for campfires as they lit up beneath the tub to heat the water.