Despite knowing the source of those images and his strength as a third generation Tangata, Adonis’s blood began to pound in his ears. He clenched his fists, letting the rage sweep through him, his own bloodlust surging along with that of his brethren. And yet…he was growing accustomed to his partner’s presence, the pressure upon his mind, and finally he exhaled, relaxing as the anger flowed from him.
A shiver touched him instead as he scanned the faces of those gathered and glimpsed the prisoners in the rear, the human and her Anaheran bearers. How much longer must the human be carried, he wondered. A Tangata would have healed or died from their wounds by now. How such flawed creatures could have resisted his people for so long, he could not understand.
But it was not the human Adonis sought. His eyes settled on the Anaheran woman and he frowned. He had been harsh with her, forced her to confront the loss of her son. Adonis did not regret that, but…there was another guilt in his soul, a remorse for what Maya had done to the Anahera’s son. Young and untrained in the powers of the mind, the young Anahera had never stood a chance against the powers of the Old One.
Silence fell in Adonis’s mind, the Voices of the Tangata abruptly cut off. Only the dim pounding of Maya’s Voice remained. Now it swelled to a crescendo as she walked amongst the low built stone buildings. The Tangata parted like water before a human ship as she strode to where Adonis stood.
Adonis’s heart raced at her approach, at the sight of her swollen stomach. Smiling, she reached out a hand to cup his cheek, then pressed her lips against his. In a rush of heat, Adonis’s concerns were swept away, consumed by the touch of her mind against his own, by the roar of her Voice.
Then the warmth faded, and he found himself standing fixed in place, watching as she turned to face the crowd. She raised her arms to them, her grey eyes, so like their own, aglow with the power of the Old Ones.
“My children!” she spoke aloud, but beneath the human tone, her Voice carried to every mind in the village, caressing them, calling them, inviting them to join her. “Come, hear me. The age of the Tangata is upon us!”
At those words, the crack of wings came from overhead and half a dozen Anahera fell from the sky. Those of the Tangata who had not noticed Maya’s prisoners gasped and leapt back as the creatures landed amongst them. They might not have worshiped the Anahera as humanity did, but even the simplest of his brethren knew of the creatures, that their power was not to be trifled with.
Now the Tangata of the village watched in awe as the Anahera fell to their knees before Maya, sinking into the soft mud at the centre of the Tangatan village. Standing over the kneeling creatures, the Old One raised her hands again to Adonis’s brethren.
“See how even the mighty Anahera bow before us?” she cried. “They have accepted the power of the Tangata, the power of your new Matriarch!” Her eyes seemed to glow as she looked out over the crowd, and Adonis shivered at thrumming in the air, the hiss of her voice upon his mind. He didn’t feel the same elation he once had, watching her display, but he was still touched by her aura, by the glory of her promise. “Soon, all the world will bow to our will,” she went on. “The humans that have plagued our people for so long will be vanquished, enslaved by their betters, as they were always meant to be. My children, join me in their conquest, in the heralding of our new world.”
A roar sounded in Adonis’s mind as the Tangata that had followed Maya from New Nihelm responded. It was only a moment before those of the village joined in, merging their minds with the crowd, with the collective of the Tangata that marched beneath the banner of the Old One.
Hearing the glory in their Voices, the ecstasy, a tremor shook Adonis. Witnessing their rapture, he found himself wondering if these newcomers would meet the same end as their predecessors. Would they too be left behind when she judged them weak, cast aside as though they held no more worth than the human they dragged with them?
Shivering, he looked again at Maya. Her Voice rung above those of the crowd, silencing any doubters, those who might deny her. His blood stirred as he stared at her swollen belly, the life that grew within her, and he felt his own doubt subsiding. The weeks were passing rapidly now, and it would not be long before his children took their first steps into the world. What possibilities then, with a new generation of Tangata, invigorated by the power of the Old Ones.
Adonis found himself dreaming of the days that would follow, when his children would stand alongside him in battle. Together, they would lead their people against the enemy. Whatever remained of humanity would crumble before their power.
Are you well, my mate?
Shaking himself, Adonis looked around, surprised to find Maya had returned to his side. Concern was etched into her brow and he saw now that the crowd had dissipated, gone to prepare themselves for the journey, to gather their children and elderly and leave behind this place they had made their home…
…to be led to their deaths.
Shuddering, he shook his head, frowning at his mate. He felt her mind pressing against his own, the vastness of her strength, but for once he resisted, did not capitulate to the power of her Voice.
I…confess I am concerned, he said softly, taking a step towards her and placing his hand on her engorged stomach. Our path forward, this campaign against the humans, are you sure it would not be best if you returned to New Nihelm? You could wait in safety, while I
