《The Arcana: Shadow Wars, Codex I》 Prologue: A Secret Meeting In which a conclave receives uninvited guests On the first night of the moon¡¯s descent from the heavens, five seers met in a reading room of the fabled Library of Kyanopolis. Fire crackled in strategically placed fire pots. Ever conscientious, the librarians had earlier enchanted the braziers with shield domes to contain stray embers. One brazier stood closest to the gathering area, where four of the seers sat on three couches arranged in a semicircle. Last autumn Nensela summoned the others from across the empire of Rasena Valentis. Now, six months later, they watched as she deliberately placed an amber figurine of a lynx in the midst of the brazier¡¯s coals. Instantly the flames brightened, filling the room with a sweet, pine-like scent. All of the prophets inhaled deeply, for burning amber enhanced the memory-keeping of all seers. For this meeting, nothing must be forgotten. Nothing was left to chance, not even the choice of meeting place. Stacks of cabinets and shelves gave the room a cross shape, and filled the east and west wings. Traversing the marble floor from east to west was a luxuriant, gryphon-skin rug. At the east end of the rug, a tall window of amber glass would amplify sunlight. For the window at the opposite end, cobalt panes enhanced moonlight. Or they would, if this were not a moonless night. The only such night when the Everbright withdrew Her aid from scryers¡­such was the time for secret meetings. Even so, the couches were conveniently arranged in the southern part of the cross, out of the line of sight of the windows. Senet tracked Nensela¡¯s movements with his eyes only, his sole tell in his attempt to feign relaxation. True to her habit when restless, his old companion paced along the rug, passing in and out of the gathering area, where the other seers sat waiting. Occasionally she paused by a long table, which was housed in an alcove that formed the northern wing of the cross. The table was long enough to unfurl a scroll in its entirety, or for six scholars to sit abreast. However, at the moment Nensela used it to stow her cloak and satchel. Nensela had changed: In the century-minus-twenty years since their last farewell, she had taken to wearing her midnight tresses in coils down her back, instead of bound in an elaborate updo. On the other hand, she maintained a lissomness that sparked memories of their youth, when he chased her through the acacia groves where they often played. ¡°Ahem.¡± Urbanus. Senet glanced to his left, where Urbanus sat on the couch in the curve of the semicircle. Urbanus ran his fingers through his hair. Again. After so many run-throughs, his hair was tousled like a madman¡¯s. Normally his hair was an asset, for it had silvered early in life, allowing him to play the role of distinguished lord decades before his current age of fifty-two. The silver gave him gravitas when speaking his prophecies, allowing him to exert great influence. Next to Urbanus on the couch, Justinia stretched out the kinks in her back. Of the five of them, she had come from the farthest away, only arriving in port an hour ago. Partly on account of exhaustion, she appeared to be older than Senet and Nensela, though Senet guessed she was only thirty-four. A mere child. Urbanus¡¯s throat-clearing apparently acted as a signal because Remei, sitting across from Senet, stirred on her couch. The youngest of the group, Remei was a gifted prophet at only twenty. Less than a year ago she attained the status of Seeker¡¯s Own, and thus she went from carpenter¡¯s daughter to ¡®Lady Seeress Remei¡¯ literally overnight. Fitting her age, Remei openly fidgeted, tapping the silver buttons on the sleeve of her chiton. Shaped like lotus flowers, the buttons fastened her gown at intervals from her shoulders down to her elbows. From the moment she arrived, Remei glanced from Nensela to Justinia, quietly studying them. The other two women were high born, and wore their status comfortably compared to their newest peer. With the boldness of youth that made Senet inwardly smile, Remei broke their silence at last. ¡°You called us, Lady Nensela?¡± Remei swung one foot impatiently. A dyed, silver-studded sandal dangled from her toes, threatening to drop off. Senet stared, curious to see if the sandal would indeed fall. Nensela, caught in mid-stride, gracefully pivoted to face them. ¡°I have never seen anything like this before,¡± she began. ¡°The sunless dawn? That, I have seen. A burning chromatic sky? In the Far North, the firmament hosts eldritch lights in the night. Lady Justinia could tell you. But nothing as extreme as the sky in our vision. The giants? Those I have never seen. Nor has Senet. Do you understand?¡± Did they understand? By the looks on their faces Senet doubted it. When he and Nensela were young, they navigated by an entirely different Guide Star than the one gracing the heavens now. Ages upon ages ago¡ªby mortal reckoning. Urbanus whistled. ¡°We¡¯re doomed.¡± Remei visibly swallowed. ¡°That is not a given at all. Why assume the giants are even in Rasena Valentis? Why not in Anshan, or Lyrcania? They might even be in Xia. Did any of you recognize the place where the giants assembled? Could it be in Ta-Seti?¡± ¡°The giant legions, you mean?¡± Urbanus corrected. ¡°No. I concentrated on the legions part. And the creatures-never-before-seen-in-Rasena-Valentis part.¡± ¡°There you have it,¡± Remei replied. ¡°The Seeker is not showing us events in the empire.¡± Charitably, Senet reminded himself Remei likely lacked military experience or education. Ta-Seti, where Senet and Nensela hailed from, lay south of Rasena Valentis. Between the kingdom and the empire stretched a murderous desert which famously killed all land-based invaders before they ever set eyes upon the Emerald Belt, the chain of oases along Ta-Seti¡¯s northern border. Enemy human invaders¡ªbut were the giants human? Might they be Salamandra under their armor? Or have dragons at their disposal? At any rate, Ta-Seti¡¯s seaports would make an excellent staging ground to invade Rasena Valentis. As well, the Anshani empire directly bordered Rasena Valentis to the east. Like traders¡ªand armies¡ªthe giants could simply walk across the Chrysanthemum Highway. But Xia, though well beyond Anshan, still possessed a Gate. And a Gate made geography irrelevant. The Gates could take travelers far across the seas ¡ª and, some said, to other worlds. Only the formidable Gold Sea island nation of Lyrcania could be safely ¡°ignored.¡± ¡°Ahem,¡± Justinia coughed. She pulled on her travel cloak. Adorned with a sheepskin mantle, the garment was an all-season necessity at the Aerie in the Far North, where she was stationed. But she had traveled over forty days to her south, and then across the sea to Kyanopolis, where such a cloak would make her faint from the heat if she wore it during the day. The Kyanopolis sun demanded a different defense: the kohl lining her grey eyes, and the olive oil that lightly sheened her face. All eyes turned to her. ¡°The Aerie was attacked,¡± she said. Senet jolted. Remei drew her knees to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. Gripping the edge of his couch, Urbanus appeared poised for flight. Only Nensela retained her calm, standing statue-like in her stillness. ¡°The Gate?¡± Nensela demanded. The Aerie, the imperial fortress, surrounded one of only two Gates remaining in Rasena Valentis. ¡°Untouched, thank the gods,¡± Justinia assured them. ¡°And that¡¯s not how they arrived, either. There¡¯s a town nearby¡ªlet me start at the beginning. I couldn¡¯t sleep after the vision, so I headed for the stillroom to make hot valerian water. But before I got there, I heard shouting in the courtyard.¡± She had their complete attention. ¡°In the courtyard, two townspeople were supporting a centurion. He was¡­burned. His breastplate melted. I don¡¯t¡­in our vision, the giants shot lightning at everyone. The man and the woman dragging the centurion witnessed lightning coming from multiple directions. Without rain. No rain at all. And the thunder preceded the lightning. Has that ever happened before?¡± Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. She looked to Senet and Nensela, who both shook their heads. ¡°Did they see giants?¡± Nensela asked. Though she sounded calm, Senet had known her too long to miss the undercurrent in her voice. ¡°Yes. And the echomancers walked through the village later that day. They confirmed the giants did it.¡± Silence. So other seers can See the giants, Senet considered. Prophets saw the future, scryers the present, and echomancers the past; but until this moment, only the prophets in this room had reported Seeing the giants. But he noted the others took no comfort from this point. Remei¡¯s lower lip trembled. Centuries after absorption into the empire of Rasena Valentis, her nation of Tartessia enjoyed generations of peace. No war in living memory had touched Tartessia¡¯s soil, and certainly Remei never experienced such. Staring at her, Senet felt a pang of guilt for what he was about to say. ¡°I have not heard from the Seeker since that night. I have inquired of contacts at home, the breadth of Rasena Valentis, and Anshan, too: no prophet has Seen any vision since ours. The Seeker gives revelation only to the echomancers. And before you ask, every scryer I talked to said the Everbright withholds nothing from them. Except on nights like tonight, when the moon is dead, as usual.¡± Sorcha the Everbright governed the scryers, but the Seeker reserved the seers who saw the past or the future for Her own. Nensela nodded at Senet. ¡°The Seeker was silent once in our lifetime. Just before the Scouring.¡± A good five centuries ago. Remei¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°But we¡ªthe gods can¡¯t be¡ª¡± ¡°Be at ease,¡± Nensela soothed. ¡°The Scouring did not come without warning, and we suffer now none of the tribulations we suffered preceding the Scouring. Let us be clear: giants exist. They wield a power only the dryads or their servants the khrestai should have. And their army will gather on a sunless dawn of eldritch lights, in a place we none of us know. They will shake the ground. But I think they, too, have an enemy.¡± Senet tensed. At last. This was what animated Nensela, what made her eyes spark, what had her coiled tight as a spring. ¡°Oh her,¡± Urbanus said, rubbing his hands together. ¡°The woman. She was causing a Cataclysm! Like a sylph, except I¡¯m sure she¡¯s a person. Human-sized at any rate. So¡­not a sylph? But I didn¡¯t know sorcerers could make Cataclysms.¡± Because Senet focused intently on her, he alone observed Nensela flinch. ¡°She¡¯s not a sorceress,¡± Nensela snapped. Remei¡¯s eyebrows flew up, but before she could argue Justinia cut in, ¡°But where are the giants from? What do they want?¡± ¡°To kill us, obviously,¡± Urbanus said. ¡°Is it? Is it obvious?¡± Remei demanded. ¡°Thousands of them will come, but why? And why did they attack the village? What if what we¡¯re seeing are beings summoned by sorcerers, to be used against other sorcerers? Someone could have a grudge against one person or one city or one nation.¡± ¡°So many giants for one of anything is a bit much, don¡¯t you think?¡± Urbanus argued. He again ran his fingers through his hair. Remei persisted, ¡°Look, in our vision the woman stood against the giants. My idea is not so foolish. Maybe the giants are her enemies. If not a sorceress, maybe she¡¯s a priestess.¡± Nensela froze. She locked her fingers behind her neck, forcing her elbows out in front of her chin. So familiar a gesture from her, and one which made Senet hesitate. To attempt to comfort Nensela now would break her. Because the mysterious woman in their vision was Nensela¡¯s daughter. Though almost completely certain on this point, experience and foresight bade Senet to hold his tongue. A time may come for him to share his suspicions about the woman. But in front of the others he would keep his silence. For now. ¡°Fine, sure, if the giants are arsh¡¯at?m.¡± Urbanus said, rolling his hand in a get-on-with-it gesture. The arsh¡¯at?m, of course, being the corporeal monsters who managed to escape Erebossa through the shadow gates. By the laws of Rasena Valentis only priests were authorized to deal with the denizens of Erebossa, the gloomy abode of the dead, evil spirits, and terrifying creatures. Laws which may not apply to Nensela¡¯s daughter¡ª ¡°Erebossa may not have anything to do with this,¡± Justinia cut in. ¡°The echomancers who confirmed the report of the giants have vanished. The letters I wrote to my associates about my vision were intercepted and censored. Before you ask, the emperor sent out a team of special investigators. They found nothing. Nothing about the giants, nothing about the missing echomancers. Two scant reports they sent, before seemingly vanishing into the aether. Now, some say the investigators were only sent to the Aerie for show ¡­ but I found it prudent to leave the Aerie by covert means.¡± ¡°So we do have an enemy¡ª¡± Urbanus began. The library¡¯s massive oak doors creaked open. Jumping in obvious surprise, Justinia and Urbanus glanced back. The seers broke off their talk. A slave entered, bearing a tray of refreshments. The young man smiled uncertainly at them but said nothing, making the long walk from the door to the circle in silence. He stepped gingerly behind Justinia and Urbanus, passed behind Senet, and made another turn for the scroll table. Nensela slid aside for him. It was the man¡¯s glance, the glint in his eye that warned Senet half a heartbeat before it happened. Having kept himself in shape, and retaining the reflexes of his mercenary days, he was off his couch before the man could finish lifting the dome on the platter. Revealing the long knife. Senet palmed the man¡¯s head and smashed his face against the table. With his free hand he grabbed the man¡¯s arm and twisted, yanking it from its socket. The man dropped the knife. Only when it clattered to the floor did the others see. Remei screamed, then swirled around to launch herself off her couch. She fled through the codex stacks, stumbling as she lost her sandal. Meanwhile, Justinia and Urbanus scattered, Justinia running after Remei, Urbanus dashing to the right. Good, the mortals were safe¡ªand Nensela? Nensela shouted for the guards. She kicked the knife to the far side of the room, out of the man¡¯s reach. The man spat out several teeth, then followed up with a barrage of curses. Senet spun the man around so they stood face to face. The man blinked madly and wheezed as blood gushed from his nose. Slow reaction time. One punch, and down he went. His head knocked against the table on his way to the floor. Relieved, Senet exhaled. Was that it? Pounding footsteps heralded the dead man¡¯s companions before they rushed through the door. Nensela swiped a vase from the table and hurled it at one intruder, who ducked and somersaulted over the bench Justinia and Urbanus had vacated¡ªputting himself in Senet¡¯s grasp. Urbanus dove for the floor and snatched up the fallen man¡¯s knife. Just in time, too, for the third attacker leapt over the cushions and met him in the corner. He slashed at Urbanus, who recoiled, barely out of reach. Blood surged in Senet¡¯s veins. At all costs he needed to save the mortal: the Seeker always had a purpose for the prophets She gave particular visions to. If Urbanus went down¡ª Urbanus cried out. ¡°Fight, man!¡± Senet commanded. ¡°You¡¯re up against a wretch even the gods despise: do you see his face? Put him out of his misery!¡± Perhaps Senet seemed distracted. Perhaps the second intruder was overconfident. Either way, the intruder lunged at him, and was thus introduced to Senet¡¯s out-swung, foot. Opposing momentum drove his foot inches into the man¡¯s soft belly, stealing his breath away. The intruder clutched at his abdomen as he collapsed to his knees. From the corner of his eye, Senet saw Urbanus exchanging feints with his opponent. He whistled his approval when Urbanus slashed open his attacker¡¯s chest. With another swing of his foot, Senet slapped his own opponent¡¯s jaw, hard. Ensuring he was too stunned to intercept the next move. Snatching at the man¡¯s hair, Senet yanked him to his feet. Finish this, quickly, and he might help Urbanus in time. His fingers tightened around his opponent¡¯s neck. Snap, it just snap¡ªwhoosh! Something flew past him. In half a heartbeat a scream followed. Sweet, cool calm washed over Senet. Only one thing could have happened; this he knew without looking. But he looked anyway, and smiled. Coppery feathers fletched the arrow embedded in the arm of Urbanus¡¯s attacker: Nensela favored the wing feathers of the peacock for her arrows. ¡°Leave it,¡± Nensela warned her victim. ¡°Lest you rip out your flesh. And bone.¡± From ancient days beyond mortal reckoning, the legendary archers of Ta-Seti used barbed, poison-tipped arrows. Combined with the more modern recurve bow Senet gave her a few centuries back, Nensela never failed to slay her prey. Urbanus¡¯s attacker stared stupidly at her for a moment. Then his features changed, as Nensela¡¯s poison took hold. How many times had Senet seen that look on a soldier¡¯s face on the battlefield? Death fast approached, and the man knew it. Moaning, he sank to the floor. ¡°Who are you? How did you know we would be here?¡± Justinia demanded. She and Remei stood clasped together, on Nensela¡¯s right. The pair glared at the second intruder as he struggled in Senet¡¯s grip; likely they already counted Urbanus¡¯s attacker as dead. No matter how much he clawed at Senet¡¯s hands, the captive could not pry them from his neck. The best he could manage was to angle his face toward Nensela. After a moment he began to violently wheeze. Shudder and writhe though he would, Nensela kept her arrow trained on him. Always she maintained it at eye level¡ªthe man¡¯s eye, a reminder that Ta-Setian archers were called ¡®the pupil smiters.¡¯ ¡°K-k-killlll me,¡± the man rasped. ¡°You¡­lose¡­anyway. Your time ¡­is done.¡± Nensela fired. The man fell without a sound. The guards arrived then. After them came the Watch, whose questions were quick, yet thorough. ¡°Damned odd of these bandits, whoever they were, to choose the Seeker¡¯s Own for their prey. This their idea of suicide?¡± The watchman chuckled at his own speculation. Senet met Nensela¡¯s gaze. In any other time it should have been suicide to attack prophets, for the Seeker guarded Her own. How did the cutthroats know it would be different this time? The Seeker¡¯s silence on the future wasn¡¯t yet common knowledge, even amongst other prophets. ¡°Let¡¯s talk tomorrow evening,¡± Remei said. She sagged in obvious exhaustion. Senet¡¯s heart slowed, and he, too, sagged. The others collected themselves, and Urbanus assisted a guard in carrying out Justinia¡¯s trunk. The watchmen escorted them out. Senet lingered for Nensela. ¡°Are you all right?¡± Nensela had been glancing back and forth from her bow case to her satchel, as if trying to come to a decision. She had used the satchel to smuggle the case into the library. ¡°I wasn¡¯t hurt,¡± she said simply. She paused and looked him over. Seeing that he, too, was uninjured, she turned away. She slung her bow case, with its attached quiver, over her shoulder. The satchel dangled in her fist. ¡°Sela, that is not what I meant.¡± He stepped closer to her. She exhaled sharply, a familiar warning, but he would not let her drive him off. For too long she had been isolated in her grief. ¡°The Seeker has answered you. After all this time, She has answered you.¡± Nensela closed her eyes. Senet stepped closer and encircled her in his arms. The fight went out of her then. With a small sigh she rested her head in the crook of his neck. He breathed in her scent, and memories flooded him. ¡°The Seeker has answered your prayers.¡± Chapter I: A Scatter of BlackBirds Part I Lightning & Ashes Chapter I A Scatter of Blackbirds In which old friends reunite, and a tragic tale is told Bessa was caught. The frantic fluttering of many wings told her so, and she knew without looking that someone had disturbed the field of blackbirds serving as her moat. Still, silent, she waited patiently behind the boulder she used to conceal herself from casual view. At first light she had chosen her hiding place with care, when only the morning star, Sorcha, glimmered in the sky. The sun still had yet to come. So, the unwelcome guest on the other side of the reed sweet-grass would not see her unless she stood up. A task list as long as her legs awaited her once the sparrows joined in with their birdsong and awakened everyone else in the household; she had until then to squeeze in some writing time. The glowlight she relied upon to write before sunrise still shone brightly; however, prompting Bessa to snatch it from its power scepter, the little platform that activated it. Light slowly faded from the small orb, while the platform remained a dull gold. Beside her on the blanket her manuscript lay open, along with ink pots she had so optimistically prepared. ¡°Bessa! Bessa!¡± Pippa¡¯s voice, sweet and cheery as always. From her vantage point, Bessa saw Pippa running and skipping at once down the bluff, the blackbirds twining around her as they took flight. In but a moment she sank from view. Only the top of her head was visible as she reached the tall grasses separating the riverbank from the ridge where the last block of grapevines grew. With a sigh, Bessa considered her options. If Pippa sought her out for her own purposes, Bessa would simply send her away. The girl was not a pest, after all. But if their elders sent her ... well there was little point in trying to hide: Her cousin was a born huntress. None could flee that she could not track, and the village children thought her a terror at seek-and-catch. The grasses rustled as Pippa pushed them apart, and her footfalls ceased. Silence. Probably Pippa had stopped to look around on the riverbank. The crunch of Pippa¡¯s tall boots on the sand warned of her approach. When Pippa finally appeared beside her, Bessa sighed. ¡°Well?¡± Bessa set down her glowlight and reed pen, then rose to face her. Standing, she towered over Pippa, whose head came up to her chin. An observation which jolted her. Seemingly a moment ago, Pippa¡¯s embrace reached no higher than Bessa¡¯s waist when she hugged her. Now the twelve-year-old threatened to take her eighteen-year-old cousin inch for inch. Pippa looked up at her with amber eyes that matched Bessa¡¯s own. But unlike Bessa¡¯s, hers glittered with excitement. She started to say something, but cut herself off when she caught sight of the manuscript on the blanket. ¡°What happened next, Bessa?¡± Maneuvering around her, Pippa dove for the blanket, just barely disturbing the open ink pot. She snatched up the topmost page, her eyes hungrily roving over the freshly written words. Quick, that girl. She grabbed the pages from her cousin¡¯s hands. ¡°Not now. Perhaps if I had a little more time.¡± Pippa¡¯s pout came and went in an instant. ¡°I would¡¯ve left you alone, honest, but you need to see this,¡± she said, pulling a folded square of parchment from her belt. Sealed with wax, the envelope bore Bessa¡¯s name in an elegant, spidery script. After careful scrutiny, she concluded she recognized neither the seal nor the handwriting. The blue wax seal featured a strange¡ªbird?¡ªstamped within. The bird sported an upright, fanned out tail. Did this come from Anshan? The nations of that far-off empire boasted of exotic animals and fabulous goods. Or so the legends and travelogues claimed. When she brought the paper to her nose Bessa detected a whiff of a woodsy citrus scent, foreign to the meadows and fens she knew. Vetiver, she would learn in time, and the bird a peacock, but the knowledge lay ahead of her as yet. ¡°Well? Are you going to stand there, or open it?¡± Pippa came to her and peered down at the letter. To Elisabet Bessa Philomelos, at the vineyard by the ford of ash trees in Falcon¡¯s Hollow. No one from Anshan had cause to know of Falcon¡¯s Hollow or of her family¡¯s vineyard. Yet the fantastical bird used in the stamp had never graced the wilds of Falcon¡¯s Hollow; who here would know of it? Bessa attempted to insert a finger into a loose flap, then hesitated. Without blinking an eye, Pippa whipped out her knife from her boot and handed it to Bessa. ¡°You¡¯ll fit right in with the other huntsmen and huntresses,¡± Bessa noted, as the fine, keen blade made short work of the seal. ¡°Of all the sorcerers, I bet they have the most fun.¡± The reminder that she must leave Falcon¡¯s Hollow, and her horses and hawking, brought a scowl to Pippa¡¯s face. Although the Huntress was her favorite in the pantheon, Pippa loudly protested the idea of being cooped up in the Rhabdomachaeum. But she was blessed, and exhibited an affinity for the Huntress, obliging her to attend the imperial school of sorcery ¡­ and likely join the legions when she graduated. The parchment fell open, and they eagerly read aloud.
Dearest Bessa, Greetings, my old friend. I trust this letter finds you well. It seems ages ago that we played together, chasing each other through your vineyard and adventuring in the fens. I am sorry for what you must have thought of my silence, all of these years. But so much has happened, more than I can say in this letter. If your gates are open when I pass by this evening, then I will know we are still friends. With love, Edana
Bessa¡¯s hands shook in her excitement. Laughter bubbled out, and it took her a few moments to speak coherently. ¡°Edana!¡± Startled, Pippa staggered back, and watched as Bessa twirled and danced with wild abandon. The twirling made Bessa¡¯s head spin, prompting her to stop and wait until the world righted itself before attempting to read the letter again. Excitement overwhelmed her so much she couldn¡¯t concentrate. She thrust the letter at Pippa. ¡°Read it to me again.¡± Bessa sat back on her blanket and clasped her knees. Pippa tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, but indulged her. When she finished reading she asked, ¡°Edana?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you remember her? Oh, she left when we were twelve. When she and I were twelve, I mean; you were only little. She was my best friend, my foster sister. Uncle Min¡¯da, that¡¯s her father, is a silversmith, and Aunt Sorcha is a goldsmith. All the fashionable people in town made a point of having Uncle Min¡¯da¡¯s tableware, or Aunt Sorcha¡¯s jewels. Their pieces are exquisite.¡± The foster sisters had spent every day of their lives together. The only exceptions being the Great Winter Plague in their early childhood, and any bouts of mundane illnesses. However, Edana¡¯s father wasn¡¯t from Silura. For the empire of Rasena Valentis, Silura marked the westernmost territory. But Min¡¯da hailed from the empire¡¯s far eastern reaches. So when he decided to return home, it was the end of Bessa and Edana¡¯s lives together. ¡°We cried and begged for Edana to stay here,¡± Bessa said. ¡°But it was all in vain. They left with a huge caravan, and that was the last I saw of her. Six years ago¡­¡± She trailed off, wistful as she remembered that last day. Keeping pace with the caravan, Bessa had walked every step alongside Edana, until they came to the town¡¯s southern gate. There she was forced to stop, not knowing the land beyond. The gate marked the limits of their world in those days. Edana stood still at that moment, not moving until her mother gently prodded her. Edana turned away from Bessa then, a moment too late to hide her tears. But her shoulders shook, betraying her as she buried her face in her mother¡¯s bosom. When the group moved forward Bessa stood alone, nearly too blinded by her own tears to see Edana turn back at the last moment and blow her a kiss. Bessa returned the kiss, heartbroken. ¡°So she¡¯s come back. She came back to you, Bessa,¡± Pippa said, snapping her from her reverie. She knelt beside Bessa. ¡°They couldn¡¯t take her away forever.¡± From the tone in her voice, Bessa suspected Pippa was thinking of herself, and her impending journey. Bessa reached out and smoothed Pippa¡¯s hair. A bright persimmon like her own, but kept in a messy braid. As she herself had done when Pippa¡¯s age, Pippa had woven cornflowers and blue gentians in a garland about her brow. ¡°You will benefit from exploring the world beyond Falcon¡¯s Hollow,¡± Bessa soothed. ¡°Do you know how much I envy you? Once your time is done in the Rhabdo, you can come back here. Or you might have adventures in the legion if they take you. Think of the places you¡¯ll go, the experiences you¡¯ll have.¡± Pippa looked down, blinking furiously as Bessa did whenever she, too, tried to hold her tears at bay. Though she tried, Bessa couldn¡¯t muster sympathy. For a girl her age, Pippa had the third and most exciting of options: usually, the age of twelve brought along either an apprenticeship or betrothal. But for the blessed, there was the Rhabdomachaeum. More¡ªfrom Bessa¡¯s point of view¡ªthe school was in the nation of Sir?nasse, farther than they¡¯d ever been. If only she could escort Pippa to the academy. But as the only child of the eldest son, Bessa was their grandmother¡¯s second in command. Overseeing the vineyard and the tenant vinedressers was Bessa¡¯s duty, and Pippa was to leave during their busiest time of year. A small sigh, and the notion died within her. Without mercy, Pippa wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ¡°What are you going to do about Edana?¡± No tremor in her voice. Bessa smiled proudly. Pippa was a Philomelos; it was not in her to dwell overlong on self-pity.
Bessa surveyed the dining room with a satisfied smile. Her staff had spent the whole of the day preparing the feast: quail roasted with lavender and honey, baked egg and cheese dishes¡ªone savory with sea bream, the other sweet with gooseberry and elderflower¡ªalmond cakes, and everything else Edana loved when they were children. Would she still have enjoyed the pleasure of such treats once she went east, beyond the heart of the empire? What sort of food did they have over there? Now she hurried to the great hall, stopping once in the courtyard to check her portable sundial again. Edana would arrive soon. In the hall Bessa paced, her footsteps echoing every time her slippers left the rug and struck the stone mosaic of vines on her floor. At one end she stopped at a large porphyry vase filled with pale sunny oxlip and indigo bluebells. At the other end she came to her family¡¯s altar to the Reaper, set into a marble niche in the wall. Twirling a finger around a curl of hair, Bessa fussed over her gown with her free hand. In honor of the occasion, Bessa wore her finest, a chiton in cornflower blue silk. Its hem flounced at her feet. Tiny white flowers embroidering the hem matched the embroidered belt tied below her bustline. The hem in turn matched the blossoms she spaced at intervals in the braid she had plaited as a headband. Aquamarine beads hung from her ears. Bessa clutched her most precious possession, a two-sided medallion which hung from a fine gold chain around her neck. The first side displayed a gold-glass portrait. Etched in gold leaf against a deep blue field, the portrait vividly memorialized Edana and Bessa as they were at age twelve. And at that age, they frequently bent their heads together, the better to exchange their secrets. Their names floated in ribbons above their heads. On the reverse side, a lovingly crafted gold filigree featured a pearl stud in the center. The necklace was a quintessential example of Sorcha Nuriel¡¯s artistry; she¡¯d made an identical pendant for Edana. These were her gifts to her daughter and to Bessa on the day they parted. At last the double doors opened, and the gatekeeper stepped inside. ¡°Optima Nuriel,¡± he greeted, and with a sweep of his arm he presented her visitor just as she stepped through. In adulthood, Edana had grown as tall as her father and statuesque as her mother. But her eyes were what arrested Bessa¡¯s attention, because over the years she had forgotten how remarkable they were. Sea green eyes distinguished Edana most from Silurans; furthermore they tilted at the outer corners, giving them an almond shape. In girlhood Edana¡¯s lips always curved with mischief, but now she betrayed no hint of roguishness. Instead, prominent cheekbones gave her face a sensuous cast, set off by the sweep of her dark auburn hair into an intricate knot. At the crown of her head, a crisscrossing network of pearls and emeralds formed a circlet from which hung a teardrop pearl. True to their history, where Bessa chose blue Edana went with green, and thus her dress was a vivid emerald. Braided in gold, Edana¡¯s belt emphasized the smallness of her waist. Flashes of her rose-gold skin showed through her sleeves, fastened at intervals with golden buttons. One item adorned Edana¡¯s neckline¡ªa portrait necklace, the twin to Bessa¡¯s. Bessa¡¯s heart leapt at that glint of light. The years fell away, of no account now. But Edana held back in the doorway, her body still and poised as she searched Bessa¡¯s face. ¡°Edana,¡± Bessa breathed, finding her voice. She held out her hand. That did it. Like a doll come to life, Edana moved, rushing forward to clasp Bessa and kiss her cheeks, embracing her in a fierce hug. ¡°I¡¯ve missed you so,¡± Edana whispered. Soon she released Bessa, and the two women stood face to face. Bessa studied her, trying to understand the sadness she detected in Edana¡¯s eyes. ¡°Six years,¡± Bessa choked, overcome. Edana closed her eyes and shuddered. ¡°Have the years been kind to you?¡± Bessa whispered Edana¡¯s knuckles whitened as she clutched her necklace. ¡°I prayed, Bessa, for this day, this moment. Hope sustained me ¡­¡± Overcome, she stopped herself and looked away. Just like the old times when she didn¡¯t want anyone to see her cry. ¡°We have all night,¡± Bessa said, with a gentle clasp on Edana¡¯s shoulders. A gasp from behind made Bessa whirl back, to find Pippa gaping at them. ¡°By the Huntress,¡± Pippa swore, forgetting herself. At a look from Bessa she straightened up and addressed Edana. ¡°Er¡ªwelcome, optima.¡± Bessa glanced at Edana, who had seized the interruption to compose herself. ¡°Do you remember our tagalong?¡± Slowly Edana smiled, a spark in her eye. ¡°Little Pippa,¡± she said, and bowed her head to Pippa. In turn Pippa glowed, as if honored to be remembered by Edana, even for as dubious a distinction as ¡®the tagalong.¡¯ ¡°Not so little anymore,¡± Bessa corrected, remembering a conversation Pippa had with her a few months prior. ¡°Please meet anew my cousin, Philippa Bessa Philomelos.¡± Pippa smiled at Bessa in obvious gratitude for acknowledging she was not a little girl still. ¡°Grandmother says to tell you all is prepared.¡± As a mark of her growing maturity she quickly left, having the grace not to intrude any further than she must. Bessa twined her arm lightly in Edana¡¯s. ¡°Come.¡± The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
Aurelia Caerena Cunovendi awaited them in the dining hall. She reclined languorously on a throne of cushions in an alcove straddled with two columns of pink marble. The widowed matriarch of the Philomelos family, Aurelia reflected her mourning with a gown of crimson silk and a golden shawl trimmed with jet beads. Swan-white hair crowned her head, styled in a top knot¡ªa simple knot, for once¡ªwith a single, thin band of gold forming a circlet upon her brow, joined at the center by an onyx butterfly. Though age dulled their luster, Aurelia¡¯s grey eyes were still sharp enough that Bessa knew she spotted her and Edana when they entered from the far side of the hall. Grandmother regarded them with calm benevolence, showing none of the levity she had used against Bessa during the day, when Bessa set everyone on a mad course to prepare for Edana¡¯s arrival. She held out her hand to Edana, who in turn kissed it. ¡°Matrona,¡± Edana solemnly replied. Grandmother¡¯s prominent cheekbones always gave her a saucy air when she smiled as she was smiling now. In vain Bessa tried to catch her eye. Let the woman behave herself, please! ¡°Dear girl,¡± Grandmother began, with a twinkle in her eye. ¡°You have grown beautiful in your absence, and are quite the fine lady. Dare I imagine you have a husband? Your parents must have had an easy time finding a match for you.¡± Edana lowered her eyes and softly replied, ¡°Kind of you to say so, my lady. However ¡­ my parents are no longer on this side of eternity.¡± Bessa¡¯s stomach plunged, and she clapped a hand around it as if she had been punched. The Nuriels dead? Uncle Min¡¯da and Aunt Sorcha, gone? Poor Edana, she thought, and squeezed her hand. ¡°My dear, dear, girl,¡± Grandmother crooned. ¡°We grieve with you, and share your sorrow.¡± Edana bowed her head, accepting the sentiment. The vast Philomelos vineyard included the family compound, where all three of Bessa¡¯s uncles lived with their families. Hedrek, Linos, and Morivassus, the younger brothers of Bessa¡¯s father, came to the feast in honor of the blood bond Edana¡¯s father once forged with their deceased brother. The younger Philomelos children lined up behind their parents, and respectfully inclined their heads to Edana as she was introduced¡ªor reintroduced¡ªto them. Pippa, the third child behind Linos, winked impishly at Edana. Before they sat for dinner, a servant who had accompanied Edana presented her with an ornate box of chased gold. From the box Edana brought forth an alabaster bottle, and presented it to Aurelia, whose eyes brightened when she caught the scent. ¡°Spikenard,¡± Grandmother breathed, eliciting coos from Bessa¡¯s aunts. The box held more: two bolts of fine, intricate trim embroidery from Sir?nasse, one snow white and one jet black. Along with those Edana included several matching sets of hair needles of ivory and jet, each with a head carved into nightingales. The final gift was solely for Bessa, which Edana personally presented to her. This came in its own box, silver and repouss¨¦d with a depiction of Kyria, the primordial queen of the dryads. With fluid, graceful lines, the artist portrayed Kyria bowing to the Huntress, the mother of dryads. The story of the encounter was Bessa¡¯s favorite as a child, and she smiled to see that Edana still remembered. ¡°Open it,¡± Edana said, before Bessa found her voice. Eager, Bessa obeyed. White linen lined the box¡¯s interior, to protect a codex bound in leather. Buttery soft leather, dyed a deep cerulean blue and tooled with a filigree pattern. Bessa stared in shock before she lifted it out of the box. With a deep inhale she took in the scent of cedar oil used to treat the parchment pages. A flutter went through her when she saw the first page was dyed purple. The box also contained two enameled, double-chambered inkpots. One set Bessa knew would contain red or black ink. Red, for chapter titles and emphasis, and black for plain text. The flutter in her belly intensified when she discovered the other pair contained chambers of gold ink in one, and silver in the other, to gild certain passages. Or perhaps to write her byline; either way the inks were a fashionable extravagance Bessa never dared to indulge before. The final item made her heart skip a beat: a quill pen. She had heard that in other parts of the empire scribes wrote with pens made from the feathers of swans or crows, but she did not know how the feathers were prepared for the purpose. A quill pen was perfect for writing on parchment, and lasted longer than any reed pen would. Or so the claims went. Was it true? She lightly ran her finger along the shaft. ¡°You always liked to tell stories,¡± Edana said softly. ¡°You once told me how you wanted to enter the Phoenix Festival.¡± An ambition Bessa had never lost. Often she dreamed of having her own plays staged in the legendary festival at Valentis, the capital of the Rasena Valentian empire. The winner would receive many honors, but the one Bessa coveted most was the phoenix-feather quill. Unlike even the swan-feather quill Edana had given her, pens made from the feathers of the phoenix stayed forever sharp. A tear came to Bessa¡¯s eye. Edana¡¯s feelings were firmly established: she loved them still. Bessa embraced Edana again, clasping her tightly and kissing her cheeks. ¡°I love you, too,¡± Bessa said, smiling as she brushed away her tears. Edana smiled back. ¡°Are we to understand your parents are Beyond?¡± Uncle Linos asked when the wine was poured. A choice Valentian wine, Aurelia had selected it to honor the blood bond between Min¡¯da and her firstborn, Nikandros. The men had served together in their legionary days. Bessa; however, wanted the wine for Edana¡¯s sake: out of respect for Edana¡¯s beliefs, she would not serve her any wine offered to the Reaper. Which meant Bessa did not serve her the new wine from her own vineyard. With expectant eyes upon her, Edana began to explain. The Nuriels had traveled far, and had far to travel, when they left Silura and came to the Sea of Five Dragons. There they crossed the sea on the natural land bridge that joined Silura to Hesperia, where most of the nations of the Rasena Valentian Empire were located. Pippa¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Is it true there are stone dragons overlooking the isthmus? Do they look like they might have been real?¡± ¡°The statues do look life-like, but I¡¯ve never seen a real dragon,¡± Edana said with an indulgent smile. ¡°The plaque near one of them says a legendary sorceress summoned them to protect Silura from invaders. Somehow she froze them, but they will reawaken if Silura is ever again in danger. They¡¯re huge, and terrifying.¡± Her eyes darkened. There was more.
In her journey Edana even traveled southwest into Tartessia, the land of Nerissa, wife to Uncle Morivassus. What she remembered most of Tartessia were the oceans of wild horses running through valleys and fields. Some horses were gold, and some were silver; all were marvelous in her sight. The Nuriels then sailed to Kyanopolis, a major port in Vassinassa, one of the the nations in the empire¡¯s southern coastlands. They joined a great caravan of merchants heading east. Min¡¯da had wanted Sorcha and Edana to see the route he had taken as a youth, when he left the Terebinth Valley as a conscripted soldier, and ended in Silura as an artisan. They never made it to the Terebinth. A week out of Kyanopolis, outlaws began stalking their caravan as they traveled through the scrublands of Vassinassa. In the hour that suited their purposes, they set upon the caravan. Because the caravan¡¯s sorcerers protected the group with shields that repulsed spells and arrows, Edana had dared to believe the caravan was safe. But the outlaws did not come at or from above the caravan. Instead, the bandits¡¯ sorcerers took advantage of the rocky soil to conjure sharp stone lances that shot up from the ground and impaled anyone in their path. The shield failed, as the sorcerers in the caravan needed to rally secondary defenses. Everywhere was chaos. Everyone was screaming. The Nuriels ran, Edana¡¯s mother holding her arm so tightly she bruised. At first she and her mother stayed close behind Papa, weaving through the crowd. So intently did Edana focus on Papa that she didn¡¯t see the bandit until he suddenly loomed in front of her. She screamed, unleashing all her terror. Papa unsheathed his sword, a single swipe at the man¡¯s armor drawing his attention from Edana. Never again would she see him alive. Hands clasped tightly together, Edana and her mother fled at Papa¡¯s command. They dodged and pushed and squeezed their way through the crowd. Screeeeeech! Gryphons! The magnificent beasts flew overhead, their shadows blotting out the sun. The beating of their wings kicked up dirt, knocking grit into the eyes of those on the ground. Ten gryphons, Edana counted. Yet even one was astonishing enough in this part of the world. Whatever these bandits were, they clearly were not simple outlaws. Ice filled her belly as she wondered what plans the outlaws held in store for their victims. The gryphons bore down on the fleeing traders, tearing apart anyone caught in their paws. The sorcerers riding the gryphons unleashed missile after missile, making short work of the caravan¡¯s defenses. All that morning the caravan had traveled atop a low ridge. Now Mama took Edana by the hand, pulling her down the slope. A scrub forest lay ahead on the opposite ridge to their north, which hugged the coasts. Gryphons could not maneuver so easily in a forest. Almost there, almost there¡ªanother lance shot up, throwing Mama several feet into the air. The blow sent her tumbling partway down the bluff, where she landed in a heap. Surprise and momentum propelled Edana forward. Only an ill-placed rock stopped her when she tripped and stumbled over it, landing hard on her knees and hands. Ignoring the sting of tiny pebbles embedded in her palm, Edana crawled over to her mother. Mama clutched her stomach. Desperately she gasped for breath. And spit up blood instead. Terrified, Edana threw her arms around her mother and tried to lift her. Only Mama¡¯s shriek of pain stopped her. Don¡¯tpanicdon¡¯tpanicdon¡¯tpanic¡ª Tears shimmered in Mama¡¯s eyes. Blindly she clutched at Edana, ceasing only when Edana grabbed her hands and squeezed. ¡°Mama, stay with me!¡± But Mama snatched one hand away, only to grip Edana¡¯s shoulder and shove her. Abruptly Edana stared at the sky, then the ground, then the sky again, as she tumbled backward and rolled to the foot of the bluff. A huge shadow passed over her, and at last she understood what had truly frightened Mama. A gryphon. ¡°Run!¡± Mama rasped. Her voice was weak. The gryphon was circling low overhead, and Mama threw a stone at it. Distracting it from seeing Edana. By instinct Edana scrambled away, making for a stand of trees shading the slopes of the northern ridge. The trees served as her cover until she reached the ridge crest, where she promptly climbed a tamarisk tree. She prayed the pink flowers arrayed on the tree would conceal her. From that vantage point she witnessed the bandits swarm all over the fallen. The gryphons all bore riders, except for the one circling over Mama. The riders were letting the gryphons feast on the dead. Edana, forcing herself not to retch, turned away. Mama¡¯s trick with the stone hadn¡¯t brought the riderless gryphon any closer. Maybe it wasn¡¯t hungry. Maybe it would fly away. Maybe Mama would survive, maybe it was poss¡ª The gryphon swooped, landing at a run. The beast paced and pawed in front of Mama. It spread its wings, blocking Edana¡¯s view, its plumes shimmering with shades of blue, purple, and silver in the late afternoon sun. Its otherworldly scream shook Edana, and her pulse quickened as the beast bobbed its head down, as if¡ª Edana clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached; with all her might she forced herself not to scream in harmony with Mama. Screaming would give away her position. And undo Mama¡¯s sacrifice. Shaking in rage and grief, Edana resolved not to look over there again. Instead she fixed her gaze on the arriving beast master who jauntily approached his evil beast. From her vantage point all that distinguished him were his robes, which matched his gryphon. But soon enough Edana averted her gaze, and gradually allowed herself to see what was going on elsewhere. Most of the gryphons she had seen flying overhead were fawn-feathered with white speckles. Now she spotted a lone golden one prancing amongst the bodies. Leaving the other one, the evil one, as the most distinctive. The equally distinctive owner of that gryphon must have high status compared to his brethren, Edana suspected. A status which may give him enough notoriety for Papa to hunt him down and make him pay. The swordsmen bandits were more plainly dressed in knee-length, dun colored robes they closed with braided sashes. Up close they had terrified her, on account of the teeth, scalps, finger bones, and gold hanging from their sashes. In contrast the bandit sorcerers wore blue ankle-length robes, and their sashes were purely of human hair, in all the colors thereof, and braided into four thick strands. After watching them a while, Edana realized the hair came from those the bandits vanquished. Hope dawned in Edana¡¯s heart when she realized the beast masters had allowed the gryphons to enter a feeding frenzy. Perhaps the beast masters might lose control, and the bandits would get eaten in turn. How fitting it would be¡­ One sorcerer dashed her hopes. First he strutted about on his gryphon, but slid down when he spotted the silk-clad corpse of a merchant on the slopes of the southern ridge. He approached the merchant¡­ ¡­who was not dead after all. The merchant sprang up and gave the sorcerer an uppercut, knocking him off balance. Edana tensed, willing him to win. The merchant was relentless, not allowing the sorcerer to land one punch without giving the bandit three of his own. He tore loose a pendant from around the neck of one sorcerer, slapping him with it. He staggered back when the sorcerer made a feeble attempt of throwing a bolt at him. The sorcerer succeeded only in making a light spark in the dirt, his arm deadened by the merchant¡¯s fierce kick. The sorcerer rose, the merchant tensed, but only the gryphon moved, lunging for the sorcerer, who turned just in time to prevent the gryphon from taking more than a piece of his robe. Quickly, he used his good hand to raise his dead arm, crossing his arms in front of his face. A shimmer of silver light appeared between himself and the beast. But the sorcerer must have forgotten that he now presented his back to the merchant, who wasted no time in stabbing him in it. The gryphon set to work, and was joined by one of its own, which rushed past the merchant to get to the fallen sorcerer. The gryphons ignored the merchant, but the other bandits didn¡¯t. They overwhelmed him, killing him before reclaiming the necklace. Edana deflated, sorry the brave man could not kill more bandits; sorry that he could not himself survive. But now she saw how she might survive: not all of the sorcerers were beast masters; the other brigands must have used amulets imbued with their power. The field of dead seemed never-ending. The few survivors she observed were immediately subdued and chained. Were they to become slaves? Except, slaves were less expensive than gryphons, so surely the outlaws intended more than mere slavery for their captives? The sun was sinking. At most they would have two hours before sunset. The bandits took to their chariots and their gryphons and rode off, the gryphon-riders scouting ahead, the chariot-riders kicking up grass and dust and rocks. Slowly they disappeared into the horizon. For the first time she winced, feeling at last the sharp scrapes and cuts on her palms. Cuts compound in pain by the salt coating the leaves and branches of the tamarisk trees she¡¯d been hiding amongst. She hadn¡¯t noticed how tightly she¡¯d clutched those branches before now. She ignored the pain. Dismounting from the tree, she stumbled, off balance. Her legs seemed boneless, and she couldn¡¯t walk straight. Mama. Mama was beyond any attempt to send her properly into the Everlasting. Whatever might be left of her, Edana couldn¡¯t bear to see it. Loving memories flooded her and overwhelmed her, such that she tore at her own clothes. A heaviness fell upon her, and her jaw trembled and ached as she struggled not to cry. Crying took time, and she must find Papa, whom she hadn¡¯t spotted amongst the captives she had been able to see from her perch. The stench of blood and viscera assaulted her with full force when she reached the ridge. She doubled over, retching violently. When her stomach emptied, her body resorted to dry heaves instead. She sagged, weakened and exhausted and barely able to lift her head. After several attempts, Edana managed to get back to her feet. The stench forced her to shield her nose. Papa would be searching for her and Mama. Scanning the expanse of scrubland before her, Edana tried to filter out every color except green, the color of Papa¡¯s travel cloak. Her mind swirled with thoughts of how he¡¯d react to the news, of what their lives would be like without Mama. Fear quickened her steps; she couldn¡¯t let him miss her. Now, now, now, find him now. Papa lay face down, near a bandit whose neck bore a wide, red smile. Edana sank to her knees, motionless for an eternity. The world spun; the surrounding corpses blended into one mass before her eyes. Finally, she fell down beside Papa. He was still. She forced herself to acknowledge that detail: still, unfeeling, and beyond comforting her. Trembling, she gathered the fabric of his cloak in her fist and gripped it fiercely as she embraced him. The coming chill would surely take her. Since landing in Kyanopolis, they always had to make fires at night, for the oppressive heat vanished with the sun. Unless she now made a fire, she would freeze. In eerie silence she waited for twilight. How long would it would take for true night to follow? No. Papa¡¯s voice in her mind. He was not like anyone in Falcon¡¯s Hollow. When she was old enough to realize this, she asked him why. Why didn¡¯t they go to the temples, or make offerings like everyone else? Papa had held her face in his hands and looked her right in the eyes. ¡°Their gods are not mine,¡± he said. ¡°Their ways are not mine.¡± Theirs and his, not we and ours. He taught her his ways, as he had taught her mother, who was from the isle of Yriel, but it marked them as outsiders, and Papa said as much to Mama. This was why he wanted to go back, and join his brother. I died so you could live. I killed to keep you safe. Papa¡¯s voice again. Did his spirit remain? Perhaps it was wishful thinking. His way did not include seeking guidance from the dead. Edana buried her face in his back, shivering, and soaking Papa¡¯s cloak with her tears. What was she to do in this abominable scrubland? She, a child of the river and the fens of Falcon¡¯s Hollow? She who never wanted to come here in the first place? But Papa never wanted to be a soldier, either. That life was forced on him, by the will of the empire. This route, this cursed route he had taken to Silura and from the Terebinth Valley, had shown him what good he could do as a soldier. He could wallow in bitterness, or he could protect the borders. He could stew in resentment, or he could bring order so the law could prevail. He could waste time wishing for a different life, or he could make life safe for those who could not fight and win against those who meant them harm. To protect girls like you, he told Edana and Bessa, when they cornered him one day and pestered him with questions about the empire beyond Silura. He told them stories. Edana blinked back her tears. Papa would not approve of her giving up. His people were survivors, he once insisted. What did they survive? Everything, he told her. Including Rasena Valentis. That was when she began thinking of the empire as something other than home, and its way the way things were supposed to be; that she was in the empire, but not of it. Shame flooded her as she eased up to lean against Papa¡¯s right arm. Her parents, especially Mama, had paid a horrific price for Edana¡¯s survival. She must live. Death-through-despair was dishonorable. Edana listened to the wind rustling the clothes of the corpses, and let the tears dry on her face. If she would honor her parents she must not be foolish. She needed to weight the balance in her favor. Seed money. All that her parents taught her would serve her well, but not without money. In the waning light she searched Papa, seeking any coin, any jewel that he still possessed. Because he¡¯d fallen on his side, trapping his hand and short sword beneath himself, the weapon escaped the notice of any looters. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, Edana sheathed his sword and bound its belt around her waist. Swiftly, Edana examined the enemies Papa had felled, seeing who wore the cleanest robe. Finding one, she ruthlessly stripped him of it. If these outlaws ruled the Scrubs then she would do well to be taken for them. At least at a distance. It took her several heartbeats to steel herself for her next task: loot the bodies of those she once traveled beside. But time was against her and she hardened her heart. She pawed through victims and murderers alike, until she came to the bottom of the fourth pile, where a corpse in dun robes yielded up the treasure she sought: a beast master¡¯s amulet. There was one thing she must do. With care, she removed Papa¡¯s cloak and brought it to her nose. A deep inhale, and the scent of pitch and beeswax flooded her. The scent of her parents¡¯ workshop. Remember. At last, she forced herself to wrap the fabric over his body, and tried not to cry because she couldn¡¯t put him and Mama beside each other. Darkness came, but by then Edana had sought the forest and its shelter. Chapter 2: A Knife Unsheathed Chapter II: A Knife Unsheathed In which giants crash the gate Much happened beyond that, Edana said, winding down her tale. Bessa didn¡¯t have the heart to ask her to elaborate right then. For several moments she sat motionless on her pillows, in shock at what befell the Nuriels. Rousing herself, Bessa threw her arms around Edana and held her tight. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry.¡± Edana buried her face in Bessa¡¯s shoulder, keeping silent. After dinner everyone stole into the courtyard to enjoy the late spring breeze. Bessa and Edana opted for the vineyard instead. Glowlights hung from the columns lining the main avenue, their best light on this moonless night. The avenue wound down from the compound to the sloping, terraced hillside where the grape vines grew. However, the women did not intend to stay on the path; they both carried a palm-sized glowlight. The avenue divided the eastern and western blocks of vines. It would take a team of five hundred oxen to plow the breadth of the estate in one day, or two hundred oxen from the compound to the river. A long enough walk for them to talk alone. No one would overhear them, save the nightingales trilling throughout the vineyard. Six blocks of vines, from north to south, separated Bessa¡¯s home from the river. Edana closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. She inhaled several times before sighing at last. ¡°I want to remember this scent,¡± she said, and opened her eyes again. ¡°The breeze coming off the river¡­I want to be here when the hyssop is in bloom. I must fill my nose with the scent of the soil and the grapes and sweet rushes. I¡¯ve missed it.¡± A kernel of dread formed in Bessa¡¯s stomach. ¡°Why must you commit it to memory? Aren¡¯t you here to stay?¡± Shadows fell over Edana¡¯s face, partially concealing her expression. ¡°I had supposed you to be married. That your grandmother arranged a match for you, and you were joined already.¡± Bessa blinked, surprised by this response. ¡°Is that how things work in other parts of the empire? Grandmother wanted me to complete my education. A little while after you left she made arrangements. I am betrothed, to a man named Lysander Xenakis. He¡¯s from Pelasgos, like my grandfather.¡± Her lips curved. ¡°I think my selling point is my dowry, this vineyard. His family can now say they have property the whole breadth of the empire.¡± ¡°When will you marry?¡± ¡°In two years. He joined the legions before the betrothal, and he¡¯s still there. I still haven¡¯t met him. At least he¡¯s not old. What I know is he¡¯s twenty-five, and they say he¡¯s distinguished himself in battle. And Uncle Hedrek says he must be a little unusual, because he¡¯s gryphon class and their men don¡¯t usually serve in the army until they¡¯re in their thirties. He must be brave because¡ª¡± Just in time, Bessa stopped herself from pointing out that gryphon-class men must catch and tame gryphons in their youth, to serve as their adulthood rites. All in the service of providing gryphons for the emperor¡¯s army. But Edana¡¯s thoughts seemed elsewhere. ¡°So he thinks independently and he didn¡¯t use his connections to only do make-work? Men of his class normally don¡¯t achieve rank, they¡¯re simply granted it. Perhaps he can actually fight,¡± Edana murmured. ¡°Do you have a pledge from him? A guarantee he or his people will defend your lands, if needed?¡± There was an edge to her voice that bewildered Bessa. ¡°Is everything well with you?¡± she asked, venturing a step toward her. Edana in turn stepped back, further into the shadows, and started for the river. ¡°I wish it were day,¡± she said. ¡°A golden veil lies over my memories of this vineyard. This is where I last knew happiness.¡± Cold dread washed over Bessa, as she considered how Edana must have lived after the massacre, of the grief she¡¯d endured. ¡°Bessa¡­¡± That tone. A tone Bessa had heard once before from Edana, when she came to tell Bessa she was leaving Falcon¡¯s Hollow. But Edana¡¯s expression attested to news a thousand times worse. Bessa hurried over to Edana¡¯s side, shifting her glowlight to look Edana in the eyes without blinding either of them. ¡°Please tell me. No matter what.¡± But one false start, and Edana lapsed into silence. Gathering her thoughts? Finally she sighed and said, ¡°If I tell you half of what I wish, I would bring a great evil on you. Tomorrow morning let¡¯s discuss defenses and fortifications and other plans. And I beg of you, if you have a pledge from Lysander¡¯s family, ask them to fulfill it. Starting now. Keep vigilant, especially at night. When you hear news of strange attacks, believe it. And flee.¡± Though her words were astonishing, they mattered less than how Edana said them. As children the foster sisters lived peaceful lives, and their sorrows were few. But when sorrows did come Edana retreated inside herself, as though her spirit kept a secret refuge that let her endure what she otherwise couldn¡¯t. ¡°Tell me. Tell me. What do you mean by¡ª¡± A scream pierced the night. Beyond Edana, at least a mile away, flames glimmered high in the sky.
Another scream, and Bessa hiked up her chiton, knotting it at her knees. All the better to run. Glancing over, she noticed Edana had just finished doing the same, their childhood habit coming back to them. They raced forward. The huge glowlights stationed on posts at intervals in the vineyard, plus the one she carried, supplemented Bessa¡¯s memory of any hazards on the path. She shouted warnings to Edana, who kept close behind her. The flames grew brighter as the women drew nearer, and Bessa stopped short when she came to the edge of the terrace and the perimeter of the vineyard. Beyond lay the compound reserved for the vinedressers, the workers who tended the grapes. Her heart leapt into her mouth at what she saw: shadowy figures fleeing to and fro amongst the flames, and being cut down before they took even three steps. Light glinted off metal in the fire light. Swords? From the darkness, screams rang out nonstop. Three figures broke away from the shadows, rushing towards Bessa. The smallest was holding on to something, revealed in a flash of light as a toy soldier. Oran. The boy carried his little centurion everywhere he went. A roar of thunder clapped. The figures stumbled, overtaken by a gigantic ball of lightning and fire. Bessa screamed, but was cut short by the strong hand that clamped over her mouth, and the other that held her still from behind. Surprised, Bessa dropped her light, and its glow vanished in a puff. At first she tracked the crunch of its roll down the rocky path, but she was forced to forget the orb as panic welled inside her. She began to twist and claw at the hand silencing her when Edana¡¯s whisper penetrated her brain. ¡°Bessa. Bessa, they¡¯re gone. I need you to listen, or you will be lost, too.¡± So toneless was Edana¡¯s voice that she could only be deep in her trance. Only the strength of her grasp betrayed her. Bessa stilled. Her body jerked as Edana moved backward, taking Bessa with her into the block of vines and into complete darkness. ¡°Don¡¯t scream, and I¡¯ll let you go.¡± Alright. Breathe. Relax. Now Edana released her. Though Bessa whirled to face her, the darkness defeated her; the starlight was too feeble. Smoke choked her, and she vainly fought to suppress her cough. The pain of the effort overtook her, and Bessa sank to her knees. ¡°You need to run,¡± Edana said when Bessa went more than a heartbeat without wheezing. ¡°Edana,¡± Bessa gasped. All she saw when she looked up was Edana¡¯s faint outline looming over her. ¡°Fetch your guards and all the men of the house and arm them. You need to evacuate, flee to the Watch. Go now, while your family can still be saved.¡± So cold. So dispassionate. Perhaps Bessa was the one a dreamlike trance? ¡°Edana,¡± she tried again, struggling to her feet. But Edana¡¯s shadow was moving away from her, and the darkness swallowed her, leaving nothing for Bessa to latch onto. Where was the glowlight she dropped? No, nevermind; the orb wouldn¡¯t reactivate without its power scepter. And its light would make it easier to track her movements¡­ Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡°Edana!¡± Where was she? ¡°Run,¡± came the fierce voice from somewhere to her left. ¡°I will see to your people. You see to your family!¡± Shudders rippled through Bessa¡¯s body. No. No. Raiders were attacking her vineyard. Why wasn¡¯t Edana running from them? But the scrape of Edana¡¯s slippers on the ground told her where Edana was running. Toward the flames. Time slowed down. Fear rooted Bessa in place, binding her. I¡¯ve made my peace, Edana had said. All night long she seemed more subdued than Bessa ever remembered of her. Why did she run now, toward the danger? To make an end to a life she hated? Did she expect Bessa to allow her to die? But Edana¡¯s people did not believe suicide was honorable, Uncle Min¡¯da taught them that much. Edana would not have deliberately chosen to throw her life away. But she might risk her life recklessly trying to save someone else¡¯s. Feeling her way back to the lane, Bessa tried to plan. Somehow, some way, she would drag Edana back to the house. If they traveled along the river, they would gain time. Edana didn¡¯t want to die badly enough to endanger Bessa, too, did she? Another step, and the world as she knew it ended: limned against the firelight, on this side of the gate, stood a giant. A true giant, at least nine feet tall. A giant. A giant. Giants¡­did not exist. This had to be a monster, a shadow-conjuring from a sorcerer. Yet she could make out the outline of armor. Was it a person? Or an animachina¡ªa living machine¡ªmade by a wicked tekmage? A soldier? The contours of its armor revealed it was not an imperial soldier. Her heart thudded, and her insides went cold. Could she get away? Did it see her? She took a step back. The giant took a step forward. Bessa¡¯s nerves twitched. If she ran, would it chase her? If she stayed still, would she become invisible in the darkness? Could she hope that the firelight blinded it as it passed the gate? Was she too late to escape? The giant held something in its hand. A grappling hook? Or a flanged mace. Easily sufficient to fight someone in armor, overkill for someone clad only in silk. He raised the weapon. The hooks spread further apart, making room for a fist-sized ball of lightning. Every muscle in her body locked. Her eyes darted to the block of grapevines to her left. Run. Run. Now. Bessa dove for the block of vines, right as the air crackled and became thick and pungent as if a storm were imminent. She twisted, her sleeve was caught on one of the trellises. Ruthlessly, she tore at the fabric, ripping herself free. A strangled cry escaped her as she struggled. Don¡¯t dare look back. Don¡¯t you dare. The giant was sure to be right behind her. Rushing forward, she willed herself to reach the next lane before the giant caught her. Greedily she gulped for air, at the same time suppressing a visceral urge to scream. A few steps more ¡­ a few steps more to the end of the block¡­suddenly she came to the lane she sought. The slope of the hill forced Bessa to slow down; she cursed every step as she padded up into the next terrace, and its lane. But now she had options to hide or to escape¡­assuming the giant did not have night-sight. The monster was not using a glowlight, or any other kind of light on this moonless night. A nocturnal predator. An arsha¡¯t?m conjured from the realm of Erebossa most likely, but by whom? The Philomelos family had no feuds with any sorcerers. But in their youths her grandparents defended this land and the town from the Furi, bloodthirsty sea raiders of ordinary size. Perhaps the Furi now returned, and brought along some special friends, mercenaries from a country rich with giants? Maybe they wanted revenge for all the heads the Silurans had claimed in their victory. Blood quickened in her veins. Just one look back¡­ No giant. The screams now grew dim enough that she would have heard the clank of his armor at the very least. What of Edana? Could she escape, too? I will see to your people. Surely¡­surely she had not sacrificed herself solely to buy Bessa time to escape? Perhaps in the six years since the massacre, Edana had become a priestess? The idea gave Bessa hope, and accounted for Edana¡¯s confidence she could face the creatures. All the same Bessa prayed, ¡°Amyntas, Benevolent One, I beg of you: protect Edana. Please.¡± No more would she say, unwilling to confront the fear that she was too late in asking the Protector of Innocents to intervene. At last she came to the intersection where she could turn and ascend to the next terrace. The path leading up the hillside to her home was bathed in the light of the hanging glowlights. Her body sagged as her relief died within her: for the rest of her flight she would be in plain view of the giant and any allies of his. It could cut her down before she reached her doors. Another glance back. Nothing, but with no light she would not see the giant before it was too late. So. The long way it must be, then. Forcing herself to ease into a block of vines again, Bessa berated herself for having to double back and give up ground she had gained. Tears rolled down her cheeks. The tears flowed faster when it dawned on her that she had led the giant to the easy path in the first place. It could cut her down before she warned everyone. And Edana would have given her life for nothing. Another desperate hope came to her. Pippa. Bessa crept through the lane, the pain in her heart finally penetrating her consciousness. Gritting her teeth against the pain, Bessa considered Pippa. Could the girl¡¯s gifts help them? Might she save herself, at least? The young huntress possessed the skill to start small fires and command a flock of birds, summoning her own falcon when she pleased. It would not be enough. Bessa clutched her stomach, sick at the thought of Pippa having to do battle¡­and of what would happen to her and their family if she couldn¡¯t rise to the occasion. Could Pippa survive? Some of her dinner reversed itself, and Bessa forced it back. It hit her that Pippa was the same age as Edana had been when she¡¯d been orphaned. It finally occurred to Bessa to pray for herself, that she would live long enough to warn her family. Bessa crept through the trellises, trying not to trip herself up in her fear and worry. At last she reached another terrace. Three more to go. She paused again when she detected the sound she¡¯d been dreading: the clank ping clank ping of the armored giant. The sound was faint at first, but it grew louder and louder, until she felt the pounding of footsteps against the ground. Holding her breath, she looked back. Firelight brightened the sky. How long before the fires reached her house? Even at this distance, she had precisely enough glowlight to see two great shapes come into view. Giants. Her heart sank: whatever Edana had planned, she had failed, and she was lost now to Bessa. Even more, it would only be a few heartbeats before the giants came to the main path. They would move openly, uncaring if they gave forewarning of their approach. No one in her household posed a threat to them. Her insides turned to ice. Frozen in place, Bessa inhaled sharply, choking on grief. Closer, and closer the giants came; soon enough they would see her if one of them should glance to their right. The clanging grew louder. Once again the air crackled and once again Bessa caught the scent of a thunderstorm: the lightning weapon had been fired. A roar filled her ears, forcing her to cover them. The ground rumbled and she dropped to her knees. Trembling, she looked up, supposing she would at least face her killers. But then¡ªcrash! The giants lurched, seeming to tumble into each other. Another crackle, another roar, and boom! The giants fell, with such force that Bessa flinched when they hit the ground. Once more her feet acted like tree roots, for all that she could move. What happened? There was only silence now. A glimmer of hope flickered in her heart. Either the invaders were fighting amongst themselves, or¡­ A shape was moving up ahead, beyond where the giants had fallen. Its size and contours told her only that the newcomer was not another of the giants. It took a moment for that detail to sink in before Bessa¡¯s heart leapt with relief. Edana? One step forward. Halt ¡ª if the giants were mercenaries hired by the Furi¡ªif¡ªthen Bessa had better take heed the disparaging remarks her uncles had made about mercenaries and the Furi both. The former were likely to fight over the spoils once the killing was done. The latter were not famed for their honor. The shape passed, and Bessa¡¯s thoughts raced. If she waited long enough, she might claim one of the lightning weapons for her own, and finally deal with the invaders on equal terms. Slowly she counted to twenty, then dashed into the lane. Again she halted. Heat radiated from the giants¡¯ corpses. With a stray branch Bessa quickly poked through the tangle of the giants¡¯ bodies until she made out a head. From there she found a shoulder, then a length of arm. She ventured to touch the prongs of the lightning weapon. Hot, but not unbearably so. Bessa seized the shaft and gasped. How lightweight! So much so that she held it up high, to catch the distant glowlight. The light gave her all the proof she needed; she truly did hold the giant¡¯s lightning weapon. A novel device, unlike anything she¡¯d ever known of. Supposedly, far beyond even Anshan, in Lyrcania, there lived tekmagi who could create fantastic items to perform feats that required pure sorcery in Rasena Valentis. Maybe the giants were Lyrcanians? Not important. The other stranger had too much of a head start already. If the stranger was not Edana, Bessa needed to hurry. At full speed Bessa sprinted for the main path. This time, this time she might be able to save someone. She was just in time to see the giant-slayer rounding the corner at a fast clip, and onto the thoroughfare, a good thirty feet ahead of her. The light revealed the giant-slayer¡¯s silhouette. The killer was tall, slim and curvy. Bessa froze. Edana? Or a sorceress? She reached down, snatching at the dirt, until she grasped a nice round stone, the kind one of her house guards might use if he needed bullets for his sling. Bessa took aim. If the woman were Edana, she¡¯d forgive Bessa. If she were a sorceress¡­ Putting everything she had into her throw, Bessa struck for the giant-slayer¡¯s hamstring. She was rewarded with a yelp from the woman, before she ducked back into a lane to crouch behind the vines. After a moment, Bessa peered out from her hiding place, reminding herself the darkness would cover her. But the woman had turned back, and now her face was bathed in the light. Bessa¡¯s heart somersaulted. ¡°Edana!¡± Edana paused, lowering the giant¡¯s weapon, the twin to Bessa¡¯s. They raced toward each other, and met in a fierce embrace. ¡°Why are you behind me?¡± Edana demanded, releasing her. ¡°And how did you take one of their weapons?¡± ¡°How did you take one?¡ªNevermind, we need to get to my family!¡± Edana clasped her free hand, and together they ran the rest of the way up the terraces to Bessa¡¯s home. Chapter 3: The Star Dragons Warning III The Star Dragon¡¯s Warning In which the seers share a vision and Edana shares a plan Smoke. Tendrils of it curled up into the sky, vanishing into the night. That was all Bessa saw at first as she raced for the courtyard in the center of her family¡¯s compound. When she caught the glow of a fire she nearly screamed in grief and terror, until her mind caught up with what she was seeing: light of a bonfire, not a conflagration. On warm nights her family would gather in the courtyard and light a bonfire to repel mosquitoes. When Bessa burst in on them, her uncles were making sport over a board game, and her aunts were taking bets on the probable winner. A part of Bessa was dismayed, for the giants would have caught her family completely unawares. The other part of her rejoiced, for she had arrived in time to warn them. She spared only a moment to call the household staff to their circle. ¡°How much time do we have?¡± Grandmother demanded. ¡°None,¡± Edana replied. ¡°The guards patrolling the vinedressers¡¯ compound are already dead; the ones you have left are not equal to this fight. If we could all ride we might make for the garrison¡ªif it¡¯s not under attack already. Are your caves still accessible?¡± The Philomelos family aged their wine in amphorae and barrels they kept in the caves on the estate. ¡°Yes,¡± Bessa¡¯s eldest uncle, Hedrek, answered. ¡°But we could easily be trapped if¡ª¡± ¡°Someone needs to alert the watchmen. Why do you think the garrison may have been taken, Edana?¡± Grandmother cut in. ¡°This is not the first attack of these raiders. I had hoped to have beaten them to Silura. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Bessa stared at her. She had hoped to beat them? And she knew about the raiders? How? ¡°I delivered a dispatch to the commander of the Watch when I arrived,¡± Edana went on. ¡°She seemed not to believe me, but promised she would keep a look out. Silura is supposed to be safe.¡± Over two hundred years had passed since Silura had been conquered and absorbed into the empire. The tribes had all either been pacified or assimilated. No one in living memory had known anything other than life under Emperor Tarkhana. Was someone attempting to change that? ¡°I¡¯ll ride,¡± Pippa volunteered. ¡°I¡¯ll alert the Watch.¡± Her father, Linos, grabbed her arm and held tight. ¡°No you won¡¯t,¡± he insisted. ¡°You heard Edana, if the Watch is overrun you¡¯ll be riding into a trap.¡± To underscore his order, her mother, Vesper, immobilized Pippa with an embrace from behind. ¡°But the giants don¡¯t know this land like we do,¡± Pippa countered, squirming in her mother¡¯s arms. ¡°We can spot them before they spot us, and stick to routes they wouldn¡¯t think of. If they¡¯re only burning and looting¡ª¡± ¡°They¡¯re killing,¡± Edana cut in. Pointing to Bessa¡¯s lightning shooter she asked, ¡°Do you know how to use that?¡± ¡°No. But you used it, didn¡¯t you? To kill the other two giants?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± she confirmed, and held up the strange weapon. ¡°These shoot lightning, as far as the eye can see, and even the giants can be felled with them. Their armor does not yield to swords, arrows, or slings¡ªunlike the kind our soldiers wear. Enough talk. Someone must alert the neighbors and the watchmen, and the rest of you must hide or flee.¡± Uncle Morivassus turned and clasped Aunt Nerissa¡¯s hands in his own. ¡°Our horses are the fastest, love¡ª¡± Though her eyes grew large, Aunt Nerissa made no protest. Part of her dowry included the race horses she¡¯d brought to Silura, and they were indeed the fastest. Thus they decided Uncle Morivassus would take two of Aurelia¡¯s house guards and ride for help and raise the alarm. Uncle Linos proposed having them hide in the hypocaust beneath the floors until help arrived, an idea Edana tersely shot down on the grounds they could be trapped. Better to go to the caves, she insisted, which led to the riverside and the barge docked there. Via the barge they could escape to the shore fort along the coast. Suddenly, the household¡¯s master smith rushed in from his forge. Huffing and puffing behind him were his wife and sons, loaded with weapons and shields. Now he armed the Philomelos men and several of the slaves; the guards kept their own weapons at the ready. After a quick debate, Edana decreed Morivassus could more effectively show what they were up against if he took a lightning mace. When she put it in his hands he yelped in surprise. ¡°Are you sure this is a weapon? It feels like a toy! So light,¡± he observed, turning it over and over. ¡°Yet it¡¯s so deadly,¡± Edana replied. Quickly, she instructed him in its use. They rushed for the trap door which led to the cellar, and the caves. Two of the remaining guards went first, and the others followed. Before Uncle Morivassus shut the door, he assured them he¡¯d conceal the entrance from inside the house. ¡°What about the rest of our people?¡± Grandmother asked, as they moved down the passageway to the caves. ¡°I sent survivors to the coast, my lady. But as it stands, the giants were thorough,¡± Edana said flatly. Bessa reeled. There was nothing they could do to fight the giants. In the dark, with no means to effectively counter the lightning, running was their best option. If only she had sorcerers amongst her guards ¡­ or the animachina her father had created in his days in the legion. However, Grandmother disapproved of soulless, animated machines. At least the garrison had sorcerers. That would even the odds¡­maybe? She sneaked a glance at Edana. Surely if the garrison was completely useless Edana wouldn¡¯t have bothered suggesting it. That Edana seemed hopeful made Bessa feel hopeful. And confused. What did Edana know, and why did she know it? Pippa slipped in beside Bessa. ¡°How did you get one of the weapons? How did Edana get one?¡± The mixture of awe and respect on her face struck Bessa as strangely amusing. Her shoulders shook in silent laughter when she considered what Pippa must be imagining. Pippa looked up at her in the glow of the rushlights. No enchanted lights lit the way here, only elemental ones. Bessa¡¯s amusement died down as she stared long and hard at the younger girl, whom she loved as a sister. As the eldest of Aurelia¡¯s grandchildren, the only child of her firstborn son, Bessa took precedence even over her uncles where the estate was concerned. Grandmother carefully groomed her to be her successor, an education Bessa had found exacting at times. For their part, Bessa¡¯s uncles taught her cousins to respect her. Any word she gave must be heeded, and her every order obeyed, for she was the eldest. This conditioning placed a wall between Bessa and her younger cousins. A wall, Bessa often thought wistfully, that would not have been there had her father lived to carry the weight placed on her shoulders in his stead. To her surprise, and great joy, Pippa always treated Bessa like a beloved big sister. Bessa took the other girl into her arms and held her close, resting her cheek against the girl¡¯s head. So close, she thought, her shoulders shaking for a different reason this time. She had come so close to losing her family. But still they all of them lived, and Bessa could not help kissing Pippa¡¯s forehead in gratitude. Gradually, she became aware of Edana, who was sitting on a stool against one of the barrels Grandmother had imported from Sir?nasse. Strands of Edana¡¯s hair were plastered against her face. Her head was bent low, and her face expressionless as she concentrated on untying the knot she¡¯d made when she¡¯d bound up her dress in order to run. Bessa¡¯s knot had already come undone sometime during her sprint through the vines. Bessa moved in front of Edana, whose shapely legs had attracted several furtive glances from the adolescent male faction of the Philomelos family. At least the eldest, Pippa¡¯s brother Gavin, had the decency to cuff their brother Deverell¡¯s ear when the boy outright gaped at Edana. Uncle Hedrek¡¯s daughter, Dacia and her mother, Aunt Kalyna, pointedly stationed themselves next to Bessa. Like a phalanx, the women shielded Edana from the boys¡¯ sight. Chastened, Gavin herded his brother and the slave boys to Grandmother. They redeemed themselves by offering their services to Grandmother, who promptly ordered them to assist in barricading the passage they had just come from. Bessa sighed inwardly, for the little episode underscored to her that Edana was technically a stranger now. Her younger cousins didn¡¯t remember her as Bessa¡¯s foster sister, or as someone whose father shared a blood bond with one of their own. At least her uncles did not shame her, for they carefully kept their gazes away from Edana. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. At last Edana finished. Once the folds of silk cascaded to her sandals, Edana stood, and faced Bessa. ¡°You have questions,¡± she said matter-of-factly. This was all the prompting Bessa needed. She let loose her volley: how had Edana known about the raiders? What were they? Where did they come from? How did she have any intelligence on them to even give a ¡®dispatch¡¯ for the commander of the Watch? And how did she overcome the giants? The last question in particular troubled her. Only now did Bessa consider that Edana must have killed a giant to take its weapon. Killed it. And she had been prepared to do so. What did that mean? Edana glanced over at Grandmother and Bessa¡¯s aunts and uncles, who obviously overheard Bessa¡¯s questions. Their expressions brooked no opposition as they came forward. To their surprise, Edana¡¯s explanation had an unexpected beginning: After the massacre of her caravan. Days, weeks after the massacre, Edana made it to an outpost, where she met a seer who was traveling to Kyanopolis. A Seeker¡¯s Own, Nensela of Ta-Seti. For her own reasons she took in Edana. ¡°Almost two years ago, on the night of the harvest equinox, an unusual thing happened: she and others of her order happened to have the same vision. Not only on one night, but two more nights after, the exact same vision. Normally when seers share a vision they each only see parts of a whole, a particular tree out of a forest, related to whatever task the seer is meant to undertake. But not in this case.¡± ¡°Did all of them see the giants?¡± Bessa asked. Indeed, thus the seers traveled across the empire last spring for a conclave. ¡°One of the seers was stationed in the Aerie; the imperial fortress in the Cloudwalk Mountains. She reported an attack on some farms near the fortress. If you guess the giants were similar to the ones who have attacked this vineyard, you would be correct.¡± ¡°The Cloudwalk? But that¡¯s on the other side of Rasena Valentis from here!¡± Bessa protested. Silura marked the western edge of the empire, much as the Terebinth was nearly the eastern edge, and Kyanopolis its southern fringe. The Cloudwalk Mountains marked the boundary to the northeast, beyond which were said to be a strange, barbarian people living in a vast no man¡¯s land. Bessa never took that last part seriously. After all, Silurans had once been thought to be such people, by others from within the empire, until they were ¡®discovered.¡¯ ¡°There was something else unusual,¡± Edana continued. ¡°The seers did not know what the vision meant. And they are all the Seeker¡¯s Own.¡± A disquieting revelation. Some seers primarily saw visions, and other seers primarily interpreted them. And some seers were so abundantly blessed they could reliably do both. Their pinnacle was known as the Seeker¡¯s Own. ¡°Nothing about this situation was typical,¡± Edana said. ¡°The seeress from the Aerie said the imperial echomancers confirmed the attack. Then they disappeared three days later. And the emperor sent investigators, who also disappeared. For this reason Lady Nensela and the other prophets hired mercenary arcana from the Star Dragon company to gather information.¡± Uncle Hedrek whistled, and the others glanced at him. As the only one who held a political post in town, he kept them abreast of intrigues. ¡°I¡¯ve only heard legends about the Star Dragons. The emperor himself is said to turn to them on occasion. I never expected to meet anyone who had met them.¡± He glanced at Edana, a question in his eyes, and she nodded her confirmation. ¡°What did they find out?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°The Star Dragons sent five arcani to investigate at first, and all five of those men were killed. Only one managed to send back a preliminary dispatch before we got word he was slain.¡± Silence. Uncle Hedrek¡¯s jaw dropped, and his reaction made Bessa unsure if she wanted Edana to continue. If the Star Dragons were as formidable as Uncle Hedrek implied, then anyone good enough to have killed their arcani had to be perilous. Perilous, and working against the citizens of the empire. Bessa shuddered. With every word Edana said, a singular dread began to grow in the pit of Bessa¡¯s stomach. Though she clutched Pippa¡¯s shoulders a little tighter, the girl made no protest or movement. Likely she didn¡¯t want to be noticed by her parents or the other adults, and thus banished from their conference. The fifth Star Dragon¡¯s dispatch revealed the raiders weren¡¯t appearing at random. The raiders had a plan¡ªunknown to the arcanus¡ªand it was clear that all corners of the empire were to have a taste of the raiders, and their lightning attacks. ¡°Where are our cohorts? The legions? Why aren¡¯t the raiders meeting any opposition?¡± Uncle Linos demanded. Like Bessa¡¯s father, he had also served in the legions. ¡°Survivors are rare,¡± Edana said flatly. ¡°The giants strike with lightning and like it: they are gone as quickly as they appear. From what we can tell, they only attack farmers and villages in isolated areas. All anyone hears about them are outlandish rumors. Officially, their kills are always attributed to rogue sorcerers and bandits. Giants have never existed in Rasena Valentis, so they couldn¡¯t possibly exist here now.¡± Uncle Linos pursued, ¡°So who took down the Star Dragon spies?¡± ¡°That answer revealed a weak link, believe it or not,¡± Edana said. ¡°From what we can tell, all five arcani were killed by a mysterious company of mercenaries. Their signature is¡­not subtle.¡± Just in time, Bessa stopped herself from asking the obvious follow up. Tonight¡¯s events were sufficient fuel for nightmares, why add more? Grandmother wondered, ¡°Why did the Watch not believe you? You had the visions of five of the Seeker¡¯s Own, and the Cloudwalk fortress attack, and the mercenaries. What else did they need to believe you?¡± The pit in Bessa¡¯s stomach grew deeper when Edana hesitated. ¡°Five. Mark that: only five official seers. No other prophets have foreseen the giants in any capacity. None of the imperial seers are claiming to foresee any danger at all.¡± ¡°You make that sound unusual,¡± Bessa said, trying to swallow her dread. ¡°To me it¡¯s not, but I am Terabinthian and our god does not care what political office you hold. But the political seers¡ªand those who put faith in them¡ªassume these five must be wrong. However¡ªno other prophet has reported a vision since the final night that the five saw their vision.¡± Hmm. The chosen seers were absolutely right about the giants: they were indeed in Rasena Valentis. So why were only a handful aware of them? ¡°There¡¯s a question you haven¡¯t asked,¡± Edana pointed out, her tone careful. ¡°Who hired the mercenaries who went after our arcani? I volunteered to come here not only to see you. We suspect the enemy¡¯s paymaster is here, in Silura. I should not say yet who it might be.¡± Turning to Grandmother she added, ¡°I will say that if your son finds the garrison prepared to help us, all is not lost.¡± Grandmother inhaled. ¡°And if the Watch is not prepared?¡± ¡°If he catches them flat footed and in disarray, with key people unexpectedly absent, and precisely the wrong people in their stead, then that doesn¡¯t bode well for the rest of Silura. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Bessa put a hand over her heart, counting its beats as it hammered beneath her breast. The counting calmed her enough to allow her to ask her next question. ¡°We have a traitor in our midst, don¡¯t we? Why else would it be significant who is and isn¡¯t at the Watch tonight? It only matters if someone can arrange the schedules and assignments, and would do so to our detriment. They would have to know that we would be attacked tonight.¡± Before Edana could reply, Uncle Linos asked, ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that make it obvious who is to blame?¡± ¡°You are supposed to be dead,¡± Edana pointed out. ¡°And had you been murdered tonight there are many believable lies such a person could utter. No¡±¡ªshe held up a hand, quelling his next question¡ª¡°Do not ask for a name. If Uncle Morivassus reaches the Watch then there is no point in killing you, for you¡¯re merely innocent victims, and the Watch will back your story. ¡°I have risked your lives and my mission by telling you even as much as I have. I can go no further. Love and honor compel me to keep silent on the very matter of the name and its bearer. But if you are questioned by anyone: I never said there is a traitor. On your honor, Uncle Linos, I never told you there is a traitor, and none of you suspect anyone.¡± Uncle Linos did a double take, but met her unwavering gaze with a forthright stare of his own. Grandmother found her voice before he did. ¡°Your father was bloodbonded to my firstborn. Now I call upon the spirits of my firstborn and your father as witness: I swear we none of us will betray your counsel. May Aletheia the Oathkeeper claim my blood if it happens otherwise.¡± Another shudder rippled through Bessa as she glanced back. The boys and the servants were too preoccupied with the barricades to overhear them, and thus they did not need to be taken into the oath. ¡°So say I,¡± Uncle Linos quickly concurred, and the others followed suit. Pippa quietly echoed her father in unison with the others, and again Bessa suspected she was trying to avoid attention. Bessa squeezed her shoulders in gratitude. ¡°Let my father¡¯s spirit witness, and stand against me before the Speaker if I dishonor his bond with Nikandros Bessus Philomelos, firstborn to you, Matrona Aurelia,¡± Edana said solemnly. ¡°Believe that I have taken you into my counsel as far as I am able. Because you must not let down your guard if we survive, I will tell you this: you were not chosen at random.¡± The giants showed a clear pattern of attacks, Edana explained. Initially they targeted outlying farmers and minor villages, in the east and the south. As they moved west and north they grew more ambitious. ¡°Analyzing the Star Dragon¡¯s papers led us to believe that first, Silura would be targeted. Second, the raiders would choose prominent people for their latest victims and openly reveal themselves at that point.¡± ¡°Prominent people?¡± Bessa asked. The Philomelos family stood out among Silurans, for their land gave them wealth to allow Hedrek to participate in local government¡ªand by Grandmother¡¯s will their philanthropic spirit matched their wealth. ¡°Your family put up the bath house in town. That makes you a visible target¡ªand a visible victim. The Star Dragons concluded you were next.¡± A muscle spasmed in Grandmother¡¯s left cheek, a familiar sign she was overcome with emotion. The town¡¯s bath house came courtesy of Papouli¡ªBessa¡¯s grandfather¡ªthe late Nikolaos Bessus Philomelos. He wanted to show his appreciation for the place where he had prospered after finally winning his freedom from slavery. As a Restorite sorcerer he had also established a healer¡¯s school in Falcon¡¯s Hollow, and his alumni served all over Silura and the empire. Most Siluran towns lacked such amenities, even when the elite classes had the means to offer them. Aurelia had eagerly matched her husband¡¯s efforts. She saw it as part of a larger duty to advance the prestige of Silurans, and to put her nation on equal footing with those who viewed them as barbarians. As she intended, her efforts paid off both for the Philomelos family and Falcon¡¯s Hollow. After three generations she had opened the way for prime opportunities for her grandchildren that would have been impossible to consider for herself in her youth. And now per Edana, her works had made them a target, ironically not as Silurans, but as Rasena Valentians. Compassion tinged Edana¡¯s voice as she said, ¡°You must be prepared to defend yourselves. You are people of influence, which can save Silura. The guards may not all be trusted, so don¡¯t rely on them. Gather your neighbors and form a pact of mutual defense. That¡¯s all you can do if you survive this night.¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we deal with the traitor?¡± Linos reminded her. Edana¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°The traitor is my job.¡± Chapter 4: "... And the Servants Will Fall" IV ¡°... And the servants will fall.¡± In which a giant¡¯s answers birth more questions Edana spoke so quietly, and with such deadly assurance that Bessa¡¯s insides froze again. Bessa had more questions, but Edana¡¯s advice reminded her they weren¡¯t out of danger yet. ¡°Inspect the barricades,¡± Grandmother ordered her sons. ¡°If you are satisfied, let¡¯s be on our way.¡± The men did as she bade them. Bessa moved closer to Edana, and pitched her voice low so the others couldn¡¯t hear. ¡°Is this why you asked about Lysander?¡± Edana met her gaze, and her green eyes clouded. ¡°I wish I could be sure of where you will be safe. If I thought it would make a difference I would have you leave Silura this very night for one of his family¡¯s estates. But we cannot be sure yet where the raiders will place the brunt of their destruction. At least if the Xenakis family will agree to defend your lands, that should help. I would pray so, anyway.¡± Bessa started to ask another question, but Edana grasped her arm, and shook her head. ¡°Let us survive first, and I will tell you what I can after. I swear.¡± Bessa subsided. When the men pronounced the barricades satisfactory, everyone arranged themselves in a defensive caravan. Two of the three remaining guards flanked Edana, who walked point. They carried shields almost as tall as themselves, concealing all but their eyes and feet. The last guard, with Uncle Hedrek and Uncle Linos, walked behind. The three of them carried their shields above their heads so they overlapped the shields of the first set of guards, testudo style. The metal would absorb the lightning bolts, or so they hoped. The blacksmith and his sons passed out shields to their row and to the carpenters, joiners, and masons behind them. The tradesmen hadn¡¯t been in the vineyard or the winegrowers¡¯ compound when the attack began. No one spoke as they walked. Aunt Kalyna and Aunt Vesper arranged themselves behind the last group of laborers. They fingered their long knives, weapons Bessa knew would be futile against the heavily armored giants. Aunt Nerissa tightly clutched her baby, Lucius, uttering prayers in his ear. Bessa assigned her own handmaiden to assist her cousins. Pippa guided Aurelius, Lucius¡¯s four-year-old brother. Dacia, sixteen, and like Bessa looking forward to her own wedding, led her eight-year-old brother, Nikolaos. The boys, side by side, staged an air fight with their toy soldiers, bringing a smile to Bessa¡¯s face. ¡°Benevolent One, I beseech you: protect my family,¡± she whispered. Bringing up the rear, Bessa walked arm-in-arm with Grandmother, whose iron grip made Bessa relax slightly. Soon the breeze of the river filled her nose. The stars twinkled in the heavens, and for just a moment she felt safe. Then she spotted one of her guardsmen hurrying over to them. Without preamble he said, ¡°We have one, my lady. Rodrigo hit it with his sling¡ª¡± ¡°The bullet got through that armor?¡± Bessa asked, startled. ¡°Not even close, my lady. But the hit distracted the bastard, which let us use this.¡± He pressed a silver, hinged medallion into her hand. Bessa¡¯s heart skipped a beat as she recognized the engraving of an eyelid dominating the center. Her father¡¯s aegis. One rainy afternoon, Edana¡¯s father told them how he came to craft aegis. It was one of many stories he¡¯d told them about his adventures with Bessa¡¯s father, who had died when she was four. When opened, Uncle Min¡¯da had told them, the medallion would reveal an eye of the catoblepas he and Bessa¡¯s father slew during their army days. Powerfully built as an aurochs bull, the creature¡¯s head was so heavy it rarely lifted its gaze from the ground¡ªthe only salvation for anyone unfortunate enough to cross its path. Death otherwise came to all beheld by the catoblepas. The creatures lived in Ta-Seti. On their first mission together, Min¡¯da and Nikandros investigated an insidious plot involving the smuggling of a catoblepas into Karnassus, a premier city in southern Rasena Valentis. Uncle Morivassus must have retrieved the aegis from the tomb of Nikandros, stacking the balance in their favor against the giants. Bessa glanced at Edana, who had come beside her and was staring intently at the aegis. Their eyes met, and Bessa read the same thought in Edana¡¯s: from beyond their graves their fathers were still protecting them. Bessa¡¯s pleasure at their vengeance was short lived. ¡°The giant lives, my lady. Hopefully not for much longer.¡± Bessa gaped at him. ¡°It survived? But the gaze of the catoblepas is supposed to kill!¡± The scout¡¯s jaw bunched. ¡°Not this time. The eye only slowed him enough for us to bring it down.¡± ¡°Did it speak?¡± Edana demanded. He started to reply, but Grandmother cut in, ¡°What of my workers? What of the vineyard?¡± ¡°All of the farmhouses are destroyed, along with the nearest vines. At the coast we spotted a bunch of tracks heading west, to the marshes. We found three people heading opposite, to the shore fort. They wait over yonder,¡± he said, pointing to the willow tree several feet to their right. ¡°They¡¯re in shock; don¡¯t expect anything sensible out of them right now.¡± This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°You have my thanks,¡± Grandmother replied. ¡°You have done well.¡± Grandmother looked back and forth between the guards and the survivors, then squared her shoulders. ¡°The giant is yours,¡± she said to Edana. ¡°The workers are mine.¡± She turned on her heel and headed for her survivors. Edana was already striding towards the fallen giant. Watching her, Bessa felt torn. Though she was eager to know what intelligence Edana would glean from the raider, at the same time her conscience insisted she go and see to her survivors. The smallness of their number made her heart heavy as she trudged over to the willow tree. What could she do besides offer sympathy? ¡°If that¡¯s all I can do,¡± she whispered, ¡°then I will do it.¡±
Edana approached the giant warily, stopping well short of its reach. The glowlights the guards had suspended from the tree still didn¡¯t give her enough light to see the giant¡¯s face. Its helmet was more like a mask, with eyeholes she could not see into in this light. Assuming the giant had a face to see. She tossed a stone bullet at its helmet. The giant¡¯s exhale was deep and unnerving. Edana kept her composure. Steeling herself she waited, but the giant made no other sound. ¡°From the Cloudwalk to Silura,¡± she began. ¡°You¡¯ve seen a lot of Rasena Valentis, haven¡¯t you? And you¡¯ve managed to keep hidden¡ªexcept when you wish to slaughter unarmed farmers, of course.¡± Contempt rang in her voice. While she waited for the giant¡¯s response, she studied his armor. Never had she seen its like; imperial soldiers wore leather and light breastplates. The giants¡¯ armor was entirely metal, far thicker, of a deep matte blue that would render them invisible at night. Did the subtle pattern on the breastplate form a spell of protection? Or perhaps a spell of animation, if the giant was indeed a machine. Edana continued, ¡°You seem to be hired scum. Not even mercenaries, for you won¡¯t match yourselves against our soldiers. Who paid you, and how much? Where did your paymasters find you?¡± A growl from the giant this time. Edana¡¯s eyes narrowed. Was the giant a person? Lady Nensela and the other seers had three hypotheses. The first: the giants were arsh¡¯at?m, monsters unleashed from the Abyssal Serpent in the nether realms of Erebossa. Second: the giants were animachina, living machines created by the tekmagi. Or like the dragon-teeth men, but not subject to ordinary weapons. However, Edana had always championed the third hypothesis: the giants were mortal, killable foreigners from an unknown country. Via stealth attacks, she felled enough tonight to prove mortality at least. Her eyes strayed to the armored fingers dangling from the giant¡¯s hand, torn by a scout¡¯s grappling hook. The injury did not lessen her astonishment. Nine feet long, the giant easily dethroned the Salamandra as the tallest beings she knew of. Salamandra were reputedly never much more than seven feet. The giant¡¯s mask wouldn¡¯t allow for a Salamandran¡¯s spikes, either. What did it look like? The giants must have come from across the Borealis Ocean. None of the Gold Sea nations were known to have giants. Except¡­the giants¡¯ attacks originated from the opposite direction of the Borealis. That left arrival via an unknown Gate, as Nensela suspected. Still a more important question loomed, that of the giants¡¯ purpose. With such lopsided battle supremacy, they must intend to do more than simple raiding. If they were trying to probe defenses and test the waters for a later invasion, why concentrate on farmers and not garrisons? ¡°Answer me,¡± she demanded, her patience ended. Suddenly, the giant made a gurgling sound. Was it choking on its own blood? ¡°We are the children. You are the motes. The servants will fall.¡± It¡ªhis¡ªvoice was racked with pain. Shock jolted Edana, making her nerves sing. It spoke. It spoke Rasenan, revealing volumes by that fact alone. The giants had studied the empire of Rasena Valentis in greater detail than she was comfortable with. Worse, they had studied in secret, unchecked, as their movements had been throughout the empire. Appearing from nothing, vanishing into nothing. Or so it seemed. After a moment, Edana calmed herself enough to ask, ¡°Whose children are you? What servants?¡± The Star Dragon¡¯s dossier had not hinted of the giants having a specific cause, but of course he had died before he could complete his report. She could not fault him for her ignorance now. She was on her own. At least now she had confirmed the giants were sapient. The giant did not reply, lapsing into silence, with only the twitching of his ruined hand to let her know he still lived. ¡°Speak, or I shall end you,¡± Edana informed him. ¡°But if you answer my questions I will send for a Restorite to heal you.¡± The giant was not finished astonishing her. A blue glow flared from his body, the same color as his armor, enveloping the giant entirely. What was left of his hand withered, dissolving to ash. Exactly like the body of any other evil creature slain by a sorcerer or a priest. Especially a priest. Edana stepped back, her insides freezing. Primal instinct screamed at her to run. But the giant was dissolving, she reminded herself. It was dying. It was defeated. She exhaled. The giant was no threat, not anymore. With hard-won calm she watched as the giant continued to glow ¡­ but the space where its hand had been glowed brighter. Atop the ash now she saw bones. Sinew. Muscle. Muscle! In her shock, Edana didn¡¯t understand the significance at first. Then it hit her, just as the guards began swearing. ¡°It¡¯s regenerating!¡± Edana cried. The scout came to her side instantly, followed by the rest of the guards who had hitherto kept their distance. Edana reached into the folds of her gown, but the scout moved faster. His sword glinted in the glowlights as he swung it. Striking metal first, a hasty wiggle pried open the space where the helmet and armor met. His frenzied hacking underscored their urgency. Edana¡¯s heart skipped a beat as she unsheathed her own weapon to hand to him. However, his brute strength coupled with his panic had gotten the job done. Moments later he held up the still-helmeted head for her like a trophy. Already ash rained down from inside, forming a pile before their feet. Exhaling, Edana sheathed her blade, then watched dispassionately as ash seeped through the openings in the giant¡¯s armor. The guards swore, but Edana kept her silence, contemplating what was left of the giant. Finally, she took the scout¡¯s sword and prodded the giant¡¯s now-empty armor. With her mind enveloped in a dream-like haze, Edana heard herself ask the guards to gather up the pieces and bring them for the Watch to examine. Having completed her task, Edana drifted away and tried to ride out the slowing of her blood. The surreal time she had operated under since she first saw the fires began ebbing now, and she felt herself coming back to herself. She grit her teeth when she felt the first pangs of aching muscles, and looked forward to soaking in her bath at the inn¡ª Bessa. Shocked into full alertness, Edana realized she had completely forgotten where she was and why. She whirled to look back, at the fire blazing bright in the night sky, and shuddered at the ruin it would bring for her friend. V: The Huntress and the Phoenix V The Huntress and the Phoenix In which the soldiers are roused to battle, and Edana uses a star map More than an hour passed before they reached the shore fort. Along the way they looked back and saw a green streak flash across the sky¡ªsorcerers at work, putting out the fires. Edana brooded. She hadn¡¯t beheaded any giants, which meant the ones she dealt with may have regenerated. The green streak gave her hope that Morivassus had reached the Watch, and found them competent to help. In the meantime, the group took to the barges and sailed the three miles down the coast to the fort. The officers recognized the Philomelos family, for Bessa¡¯s family supplied a goodly amount of the wine the fort enjoyed. The centurion in command of the fort rapidly mustered his men after hearing the report of giants. The Philomelos house guards presented the pieces they had gathered of the giant¡¯s plate armor. The armor fascinated the soldiers, but Edana¡¯s demonstration of the lightning weapon sent feral smiles rippling through the ranks of the battle sorcerers. Centurion Ajax Makris examined the weapon and marveled. Created from no metal they knew, the device looked silvery. Yet it was lighter than silver and iron both, and stronger still than antimony. Edana took Makris and the legion¡¯s first-ranked sorcerer aside, and briefed them on what she had witnessed of the giant¡¯s physiology. ¡°Regeneration? Like a water dragon?¡± Pegasus Prime Xylon, the first-ranked sorcerer asked. Light glinted from the brooch that fastened his cloak. Edana reflexively checked. Fashioned to resemble a right hand over the heart, the coppery sunstone signaled an Oathtaker. A trustworthy sorcerer. So it was said. Xylon glanced at the centurion. ¡°We have enough Salamandran acid to deal with the regeneration abilities.¡± ¡°Assuming the giants are affected the same way water dragons are, sure. But if they¡¯re not?¡± ¡°You can always take the head. That does work,¡± Edana replied, winning a lopsided smile from Makris. Upon her request, Makris had a soldier lead her to the oraculum. When he left her, Edana shut the door firmly and locked it. She surveyed the room. Housed in a rotunda like all oracula, this one was built on a smaller scale than Edana was used to. The dome above it was not more than thirty feet in diameter. However, like other oracula, the inner walls of the room under the dome formed an inscribed hexagon¡ªa hexagon inside a circle. This fortress was not wealthy, so only plaster covered the brick walls, rather than marble. Serviceable enough, as was the shallow pool in the center of the room. Some artist had taken care with the frieze ringing the top outer circle, where the wall met the dome. The frieze, of course, depicted the signs of the zodiac, marked off in thirty degree intervals. A full-length mirror stood in every corner of the hexagon. Crystal balls rested on pedestals standing before the exact center of each wall. One such pedestal stood in front of the doors Edana had come through. The domed glass ceiling sported a retractable shutter. A large crystal phial, set like a gem in a ring, hung in suspension in the dome¡¯s center. The phial captured the light of the brightest celestial object in the sky¡ªsun, moon, or a star. Whenever someone activated the oraculum, the phial¡¯s ring swung upside down, inserting the phial into a barrel that housed lenses and mirrors of different shapes. Usually only one lens was open at a time, to focus the light against the star maps on the upper walls. At noon, the sun would shine directly on the pool. Edana walked over to the first of three machines next to the pool. Its panel of gears and levers controlled the lens. She cranked the gears until starlight shone on the Restorer¡¯s phoenix constellation in the zodiac, where the sun would not enter in the true sky until midsummer. The phoenix occupied the section of the frieze above the double doors in the center of the northern wall. In front of the doors stood a crystal ball which began to glow, emitting a soft, silvery light. She studied the second panel. Two concentric rings of polished bronze dominated the front panel. Markings on the outer ring tracked the days of the year, and markings on the inner ring tracked the zodiac. In the center of the panel sat two smaller disks of electrum, the top one exactly half the diameter of the bottom. The smallest, topmost disk had a gold hand, speared with a golden sphere that represented the sun. The larger disk featured six hands, one with a lapis sphere encircled with silver, to represent the moon. Shadows falling upon the sphere would indicate the moon¡¯s phase. The other hands represented the Seeker¡¯s Alliance, the wandering stars: Aletheia, the Truth Sayer and Her twin sister Sorcha, the Everbright; Amyntas, the Protector of Innocents; Khratu, the Strategist; and Yadon, the Destroyer. In the heavens at night constellations circled the Seeker¡¯s Eye, the fixed guide star of night travelers. When Edana turned the crank, the sun moved along the zodiac until she stopped it at the sign of the Huntress, which the sun had passed through two months ago when Edana left Kyanopolis. The Huntress presided over the spring equinox, and so Her sign aligned with the mirror in the corner directly west of the pool. At the last panel she threw down the lever. At this a silvery light began to form in the west corner¡¯s mirror. Moments later a silvery filament emerged from the mirror and immediately sought, and joined with the starlight shining on the phoenix sign¡¯s crystal ball. As expected, a third filament emerged from the joining of the beams. By rules she didn¡¯t fully understand, the third beam always aimed itself at a point between the first two beams. In this case, the third beam struck the northwest mirror, below the sign for the lamassu¡ªcelestial guardians of Qir?, where all life began. Edana shook her head, bemused by the process. If she were a seer she could have directly used the pool, the balls, or the mirrors according to her own preference. Unfortunately, everyone who was not a seer had to settle for the convoluted methods she had used just now. She approached the mirror and softly called out, ¡°Lady Nensela Sideris, Edana Nuriel summons you. Will you answer?¡± The mirror shimmered and then, with perfect clarity, the seer stood before her as if she were truly in the room. Standing regal as always, in a violet linen chiton embroidered in silver. So much purple on the seer always unnerved Edana, for the color normally meant one of two things: a priest of the Speaker, or a member of the imperial family. For anyone else it was treason. However, Lady Nensela hailed from Ta-Seti, a former empire to the south of Rasena Valentis, excusing her from the charge of treason by default. ¡°You live,¡± Lady Nensela said without preamble. Edana had contacted her only once, in Sir?nasse, to assure the seer her ship had not sank. Oracula offered the securest means of communicating long distances, without concern for spies, but unfortunately they were not commonly available. Three weeks without news must have grated on the seer¡¯s nerves, Edana supposed. Certainly the enforced silence grated on hers. Edana¡¯s lips quirked at this rebuke of her prolonged silence. ¡°Indeed. I trust you are pleased?¡± Lady Nensela¡¯s eyes, almond shaped as Edana¡¯s were, but dark as a moonless night, narrowed nearly to slits. However, the faint spasm near her lips betrayed her good humor. Her guard was down, assuring Edana it was safe to talk. ¡°I am pleased,¡± she replied, in the soft cadences of her accent. ¡°Good. What I say next will not please you.¡± Quickly she recounted the events of the evening starting with the attack, ending with her confrontation with the giant and its strange demise. Through it all Lady Nensela had remained unperturbed, but her eyes flashed when Edana quoted the giant. ¡°¡®We are the children. You are the motes. And the servants will fall,¡¯¡± Lady Nensela echoed thoughtfully. ¡°Is that something you recognize?¡± Lady Nensela shook her head and began to pace, stepping out of view for a moment and revealing her library. A sanctuary where Edana had spent countless hours herself over the years, studying and receiving lessons from tutors. Edana checked her portable astrolabe, which was marked with the latitudes of different cities so she could determine her time relative to theirs. In Falcon¡¯s Hollow it was an hour past midnight. Kyanopolis was an hour ahead of Falcon¡¯s Hollow. Had Lady Nensela slept at all? She sometimes spent all night in her library. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The seer stepped back into view. ¡°I will make inquiries. This is progress we needed. I should pray so, anyway.¡± She stared long at Edana. ¡°Philomelos¡ªI trust your foster sister lives?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Edana said quickly, before she could be overtaken by the memory of how close a call it had been for Bessa. Lady Nensela bowed her head, and her expression settled into her old serenity. ¡°That also pleases me. For your sake as well as hers. Your instincts served you well.¡± Regret shot through Edana, and she shuddered. ¡°Not well enough. Many of her people are dead.¡± ¡°Had there been a way to prevent it, I would have¡­and so would you. Our enemies are many. Who are their allies, and what is their strength? Take comfort, at least one in their council will soon be in your hand. Do you still have the package?¡± ¡°I have yet to deliver it,¡± Edana said. In her baggage was her ¡®alibi,¡¯ the collection of papers and currency implicating the traitor in crimes. Crimes that guaranteed a death sentence in imperial courts. This would hopefully prevent authorities from looking too closely into the traitor¡¯s death, and keep them from discovering Edana¡¯s involvement. I need a fulcrum, Lady Nensela had told Edana before she set out for Silura. Lady Nensela needed leverage to convince the emperor to muster the legions. Right now, most of the political class in Rasena Valentis were focused on what they believed to be higher priorities such as droughts, pirates, and trade disputes. Ephemeral problems. The giants may signal a bigger crisis, the imperial envoy conceded when Lady Nensela and her fellow prophets brought their vision before him. However, the envoy pointed out the army could not fight shadows. They needed to know who they would fight, and where. Lady Nensela closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ¡°Go with care.¡±
As it was past midnight when they arrived, the chamberlain arranged accommodations for the refugees. He turned over the senior officers¡¯ quarters to the Philomelos women and children. The fort only had half the maximum complement of soldiers, which left enough unused barracks space for the laborers. Aurelia¡¯s house guards were to share the occupied barracks, sleeping in shifts. The centurion ordered a skeletal crew of guards to station themselves amongst the refugees, allowing the Philomelos guards to sleep first. The senior officers¡¯ quarters included a suite intended for honored guests, which the centurion¡¯s wife gave to Aurelia. ¡°We will not be more of a disruption than necessary,¡± Aurelia said by way of apology, for Makris¡¯s wife was heavily pregnant, yet she insisted on getting out of bed to attend to them. Aurelia asked for a healer to help the survivors. Bessa helped organize the children¡¯s sleeping arrangements and tried to keep them calm. Adopting an upbeat demeanor, she spun a tale of valiant soldiers vanquishing ¡®wicked giants.¡¯ The children cheered, and Bessa sighed in relief at her success in keeping their fears, and tears, at bay. In the meantime she kept an eye out for Edana¡¯s return. She had noticed Edana privately conferring with the centurion and the pegasus prime just before they left. Whatever she said seemed to shock them. The night would not pass, Bessa decided, without her learning what Edana knew. Soon enough Lenora returned and announced the baths were ready for the women. Bessa promptly put the children in her care, then slipped away to search for Edana. The soldiers made way for her, nodding absently as she passed. They talked excitedly about the giants and she paused to listen. Their accents marked them as Tartessians, who like others in the empire regarded Silura as a boring, barbaric backwater. A place with little opportunity for an up and coming soldier to distinguish himself in battle. Fighting giants would change their fortunes considerably¡­if they lived to tell of it. She asked after Edana, and one soldier led her to the oraculum. Her resolve wavered when she was confronted by the locked door. With a sigh, she leaned against the door. To her disappointment, she could hear nothing on the other side of it. Fortunately, it swung open moments later. Bessa scrambled to remain upright, and Edana peered curiously at her through sleepy eyes. ¡°Bessa?¡± ¡°The baths are ready,¡± Bessa explained. ¡°Are you staying with us?¡± For the first time since her arrival, Edana smiled with a touch of the roguishness she possessed in their childhood. ¡°Would you like me to fill you in along the way?¡± she asked. ¡°Please do.¡±
¡°The days to complete my task are numbered,¡± Edana said. ¡°It grieves me that I cannot stay in Silura. But tonight there were only a handful of giants. In the seers¡¯ vision, there was an army, as far as the eye could see. And after tonight, I am less confident our people can defeat them. The giants are not any race known to us.¡± Edana¡¯s steps slowed, and she looked sidelong at Bessa, unmistakable appraisal in her eyes. Bessa stopped, and planted herself in Edana¡¯s path so they could stand eye-to-eye. ¡°Tell me,¡± she insisted. ¡°You know I¡¯m not one for hysterics.¡± ¡°Of course not,¡± Edana agreed. ¡°But I fear I can¡¯t offer you any hope after this. There is too much unknown, too much we have to learn. And now I must reassess everything.¡± She paused and added, ¡°I was certain if I kept you in the dark the mercenaries I spoke of would have no reason to collect your head. I hoped too much, and in doing so I wronged you. But I owe you the truth, so that you may prepare.¡± Bessa waited, bracing herself when Edana took a deep breath. ¡°In the vision, the giants arrive during a ¡®sunless dawn.¡¯ A solar eclipse, most likely. The imperial astronomers predicted when it would occur. From the time of their vision until the eclipse, a thousand days shall pass.¡± Bessa squared her shoulders. Privately she was pleased she had made good on her word to stay calm. As calm as Edana had been in the midst of the night¡¯s crisis. ¡°And you¡¯re concerned because you¡¯re not certain we¡¯ll be able to defeat them when that day comes? Which is when?¡± ¡°We have less than two years at this point,¡± Edana said. ¡°When the latest Star Dragon died I tried to come straight here. I planned to sail to Sirnasse and take a carriage here. Or if necessary, risk sailing the Kraken¡¯s Ladies. But it was too early in the spring, when even the imperial ships will not risk it. They stayed docked until two weeks before the Day of the Sea Lord.¡± The Kraken¡¯s Ladies marked the narrow strait separating the Viridian Sea from the Borealis Ocean ever since the Third Cataclysm, over three thousand years ago. At the strait, ships would meet a powerful whirlpool. If conditions were right¡ªor wrong, as it were¡ªwind and tide from the Viridian would clash with wind and tide from the Borealis. Ships met their fate in the resulting cyclone, smashing against the cliffs of the nations of Tartessia or Ziradra. The bodies of sailors, swept under the sea, would feed the krakens residing in the depths. Worse still, it was not safe to sail at all until the Day of the Sea Lord, which marked the start of the sailing season. Bessa shivered, considering the risk Edana had taken. They resumed their walk. ¡°We know too little, and every answer we get gives us three more questions,¡± Edana continued. ¡°Including the traitor?¡± ¡°Yes. We know who it is. What we don¡¯t know is why or how, nor where the giants are coming from. A Gate makes the most sense, but it¡¯s obviously not the Cloud Gate or the Karnassus Gate, and those are the only Gates in Rasena Valentis. That we know of. Lady Nensela, the seer who took me in, believes there may have been a third Gate in Rasena Valentis, before the Third Cataclysm. She¡¯s convinced if we find it, we can close it and stop the giants from coming through.¡± Bessa stopped in her tracks. ¡°That¡¯s a huge side track, isn¡¯t it? The Third Dark Age came after the Cataclysm. There¡¯s too much mystery from that time, and outlandish legends. Supposedly, a sorceress could control sea dragons and petrify them. Try that now. Allegedly before then the Cataclysm there was a floating city in the clouds, whatever it was called¡ª¡± ¡°Zanbil,¡± Edana supplied. ¡°Right.¡± Bessa waved it off. ¡°My point is, what good will it do to focus on myth and legend? It¡¯s a primrose path.¡± ¡°You forget she¡¯s immortal. She¡¯s dedicated to making sure the Fourth Dark Age is the final dark age,¡± Edana said. ¡°And she is not a fluff-brained scholar, with her head floating in the clouds. Lady Nensela leaves nothing to chance; she hired the Star Dragons. As well as echomancers and lorekeepers to investigate the past, in case what will happen has happened before.¡± Now they came to the corridor outside of Makris¡¯s office. The wall opposite was dominated by a mural depicting an itinerarium, a road map listing towns and stops along the official roads of Rasena Valentis. The lines marking the roads between cities were annotated with the distances between each city. Edana gestured at the map. ¡°No one knows if the giants were native to one of these nations. If so they may have been pushed out. Or perhaps they are foreign, but have tried before to invade. If so, how were they defeated? Can we use the methods of the previous victors?¡± ¡°Very wise of her,¡± Bessa conceded. What of this seer? Respect tinged Edana¡¯s voice when she spoke of her, and Bessa never knew Edana to be credulous or foolish. Edana touched her arm, indicating she did not take offense. They reached the stairs, and the guards snapped their spears straight to let them pass. Bessa unconsciously began to twirl a strand of her hair, a thought nagging at her. She stared at Edana out of the corner of her eyes and tried to find the words. Finally she exhaled. ¡°You killed the giants,¡± she said slowly. ¡°And you believed first that you could do it. As if you had done so before. And you were sent here to find the traitor, and I suppose, to question him and kill him. Or her. Sent by Nensela? Or the Star Dragons?¡± Now Edana planted herself in Bessa¡¯s path, facing her eye-to-eye. ¡°Let me clarify that I never saw a giant before tonight. But I did not come empty handed; you will see shortly. As for how I came to be here¡ªI was a watcher at first¡± After the massacre, Edana found an imperial garrison in the Scrubs. There she met Lady Nensela, who had stopped at the fortress to resupply on her way to Kyanopolis. ¡°She was grieving, too. A mighty storm in the Gold Sea destroyed her husband¡¯s ship. Lady Nensela survived, but not her husband and daughter. Her daughter was our age, and I think it made her protective of me. She insisted I join her caravan, because it¡¯s not safe for a girl to travel alone in the Scrubs. Unfortunately when we arrived in Kyanopolis, the sailing season had closed. I had to stay there for the winter.¡± During the winter, Lady Nensela gently persuaded Edana that her ¡®plan¡¯ to sail to Sir?nasse and live off the land as she walked back to Silura was not the wisest idea. ¡°Don¡¯t take this the wrong way, but I¡¯m glad you didn¡¯t try that,¡± Bessa said. Edana smiled slightly. ¡°I was foolish. I am grateful Lady Nensela insisted I stay with her. She gave me the grace of time to grieve. And time to figure out how to rebuild my life.¡± ¡°What did you come up with?¡± ¡°Kyanopolis has silver mines,¡± Edana said, fingering the silver catoblepas aegis Bessa wore around her neck. An aegis beautifully crafted, as all her father¡¯s work had been. ¡°And it is those mines that have tipped the balance of fortunes.¡± Chapter 6: The Mines of Kyanopolis VI The Mines of Kyanopolis Five years ago ¡­ In which Edana rebuilds her life and upsets the balance The day had gotten off to a bad start. From Lady Nensela¡¯s home in the suburbs Edana traveled into Kyanopolis proper, arriving in the city at dawn. She brought with her small pouches of food and money, and a heart full of determination: until the sun went down she would canvas the silver sellers. She wouldn¡¯t leave, she decided, until she found a promising prospect for herself. Though Lady Nensela had been generous to her, Edana was still determined to return to Silura. Of all possible routes to that goal, she decided the best path was to apprentice herself to a silver or goldsmith. Over the years her parents taught her enough to make her a worthy pupil for a master artisan. Finding a worthy master was another matter altogether, she discovered. None of the silver merchants on Trident Avenue, where she began her quest, approached the quality of her father¡¯s craftsmanship. Some of their pieces were dull in execution and style, others were too gaudy. After several inspections, Edana began to suspect many of the silversmiths of using the same supplier of wax molds; their pieces were too close in form or style. Other pieces were passable, but she judged them overpriced for their quality, and their creators hadn¡¯t even worked enchantments into them. Rude merchants who insulted their customers weren¡¯t worth her time. But many others were outright frauds, and Edana grew increasingly frustrated as the morning wore on. The heat in Kyanopolis did nothing to brighten her mood, and under her breath she bitterly wished to return to Silura, with its temperate weather. At least her clothing helped, somewhat. Lady Nensela had introduced her to a wondrous fabric she said was muslin. She brought yards of it with her from her journey across the Gold Sea, and had her slaves make them into pretty chitons and matching shawls for Edana to wear. Edana had gratefully accepted the gowns, which she suspected the seer had originally intended for her own daughter. ¡°Just one more stall,¡± she told herself. She sidestepped half a dozen strapping slaves who bore a litter, the curtains for which concealed their owner from view. At first glance the next stall seemed promising. In the blazing sun the silver vessels on display gleamed brightly, almost blindingly so. Several customers lingered over the bowls lining the front of the stall as Edana approached. The owner bustled over, but she waved him off before he could begin his pitch. ¡°I¡¯ll let you know if I need you,¡± she said politely, selecting one bowl in particular. She ran her hands along its engraving of grapes and their leaves. At this time of year the grapes would not yet have sprouted on Bessa¡¯s vines, she remembered. If she could find one good smith who would take her on¡­ A commotion interrupted her reverie. She glanced back. The litter she¡¯d passed was now stopped behind her. The slaves set it down, and a well-dressed man parted the curtains and stepped out. He brushed lint from the stark white toga draped over his crimson tunic as he glanced about. In keeping with the latest trend, the gold embroidery trimming his clothes formed a dragonesque pattern at the edges. Dyed sandals matched his tunic. The merchant hurried back to Edana¡¯s side of the stall, immediately engaging the man, who answered his patter in what Edana had learned was a Valentian accent. ¡°You look like a man who appreciates fine things,¡± the merchant said. ¡°Surely you¡¯ll agree your meals will taste all the better on these fine silver dishes I have here¡­¡± Edana only half listened as she examined the bowl. The merchant was clever, but not clever enough. The weight and tint of the bowl told on him, as did the small crescents she made in the bowl¡¯s bottom underside with her thumbnail. She surreptitiously scratched the dent with her ring. As she had learned to expect by now, the finish chipped and flaked. Her shoulders slumped. Another dead end. ¡°¡­buying a gift for my mother, actually,¡± the Valentian was saying. He turned to Edana and nodded pleasantly. ¡°Mother is fond of grape patterns, like the ones on the bowl this young lady is holding.¡± The merchant grinned widely. ¡°Such a loving son. And a mere six hundred aurum is all it would take to show your mother how loving you are.¡± ¡°Well, I rather think she takes my love for granted,¡± the Valentian demurred. ¡°I don¡¯t need to spoil her quite so much.¡± ¡°Take a closer look and tell me five hundred and eighty aurum isn¡¯t the perfect price to honor her,¡± the merchant laughed, absently reaching for the bowl Edana had just set down. Edana tightened her grip. He looked up, eyes wide, and the Valentian raised his eyebrows. ¡°Oh, so you are interested in this piece,¡± the merchant said, his smile suggesting he thought a bidding war was imminent. ¡°Shopping for your own mother, young lady?¡± the Valentian asked, winking at her. ¡°Or for your dowry?¡± Edana glared at the merchant. ¡°If I were I wouldn¡¯t waste even a brass coin on this fake. If this were real silver I couldn¡¯t make this dent with my fingernail.¡± She slapped the bowl into the Valentian¡¯s hands, upside down to show him the blemish she¡¯d made. ¡°Look,¡± she insisted. He squinted at the bowl. ¡°It¡¯s bluish when you scratch it¡­?¡± The merchant¡¯s mouth fell open at her sheer brazenness. His face took on the patina of cooked crab. ¡°Exactly,¡± Edana agreed, taking the bowl back from him. ¡°Blue from the lead. Real silver is stronger than this as well, because real silver is alloyed with copper, not tin.¡± In her coin purse Edana carried a silver spoon, borrowed from Lady Nensela. The time had come for it to serve her purpose she judged, striking the bowl with it. Tock! ¡°Did you hear that?¡± someone cried. ¡°That didn¡¯t sound like silver!¡± another exclaimed. Until then Edana hadn¡¯t noticed the other customers, who were now rapt with attention. The second shopper was a fresh-faced young woman who looked all of fifteen. ¡°I clean the silver for my mistress,¡± the girl continued, swelling with pride. A slave, marked so by her undyed, beige linen chiton. ¡°She¡¯s right! Look!¡± The slave took two silver coins from her own purse. When she tapped them together, a sharp ping resonated for several heartbeats, a contrast to the bowl¡¯s dull tones. ¡°You¡¯re selling pewter,¡± Edana accused, turning back to the sputtering merchant. Nostrils flaring, the merchant finally managed to articulate a response. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you think you know, brat, but this bowl and all my other goods are fine examples of the finest silversmithing money can buy!¡± ¡°So you¡¯re not taking the blame for making these frauds? Well, I will credit the industriousness you put into your efforts to cheat everyone. Six hundred aurum for tin and lead, and you didn¡¯t even blush. The bowl would have fetched a decent enough price if you were honest about what it is. But you¡¯re on the wrong street; you should be in Abalone Square with the other pewtermongers. Then again, this isn¡¯t even good pewter.¡± He began to swear, his face going from crab red to liver purple. He shouted at the top of his lungs for his slaves. Edana froze. Why hadn¡¯t it occurred to her he had slaves with him? Of course he did, how else would he keep thieves from robbing him? And Edana herself had not thought to bring any of Nensela¡¯s slaves with her. In Falcon¡¯s Hollow she never needed a guard ¡­ but Kyanopolis was not Falcon¡¯s Hollow. The little knife she looted from a dead bandit in the Scrubs now seemed wholly inadequate. If the merchant succeeded in avenging himself via corporal punishment, a truth-seer or echomancer might decide in Edana¡¯s favor in court, but tomorrow, not right now. As fast as she could Edana ran, dodging through the crowd and leaping over obstructions, the fraudulent merchant¡¯s threats and nasty curses spurring her on. Determined footsteps behind her made her look back. To her surprise, the Valentian was close on her heels, apparently leaving his own slaves at the stall. ¡°Why did you do that?¡± the Valentian asked. He didn¡¯t sound the slightest bit winded. Edana didn¡¯t stop threading her way through the crowd. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I?¡± The man was fit, easily keeping pace with her. Shaking him off was out of the question, as he was also tall enough to spot her in the crowd. ¡°You could have let him cheat me. Why didn¡¯t you?¡± Edana arched an eyebrow. ¡°If you have to ask I don¡¯t think you¡¯d understand my answer.¡± She quickened her step. She had not intended to speak so boldly; the surge of anger she¡¯d felt at the merchant faded now. Though her floor-length chitons marked her as an adult since her first bleed, the notion of speaking to an adult adult without her usual deference was still daunting a year later. If Mama had heard her¡ª No. Now was not the time to cry. The man laughed, rich and deep. ¡°Well let¡¯s see¡ªI would understand if he were a rival you wished to best. I find it¡¯s not always enough to be better than the other fellow. One has to make sure everyone else knows, especially the rival. But you¡¯ve made no attempt to sell me anything. You¡¯ve only saved me money and my pride. I like people who save me money. And my pride, for that matter.¡± She did a double take. Was this flirting? Oh, by the Speaker, he was old. Thirty years old at least! It dawned on her that the dresses Lady Nensela had generously given her could mislead someone into thinking she possessed a large dowry. If her parents were still alive it would have been true... ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± she said dryly. Turning her back on him, she continued on, to a little alley connected to the main street. The silversmiths near the city library seemed nicer; she would try them next. The man persisted. ¡°Hold, there, young lady. I have an offer for you¡ªoh, don¡¯t look so wary, I mean well. You are honest, and I need honest. You seem to have nothing to gain, other than my goodwill, which is worth much. Or can be, if you hear me out.¡± Oh? ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡± The man gestured at the crowded street. ¡°Right here, then? As you wish. My name is Silas Atreus Helenus. Of the Valentian Atreidai? Hmm, I can tell you¡¯re not impressed, so I¡¯ll get to the point: if you¡¯ve been to Valentis you might have noticed the price of silver will cost you your firstborn, and at least a leg off the second child, too. The priests and the sorcerers have driven up the prices considerably. But the mines here in Kyanopolis are still rich, and they¡¯ve recently tapped another vein. I want in, but it must be worth it, understand?¡± ¡°Naturally. You want to see if you¡¯d make back your money if you bought control of the mine.¡± Typically, the higher social classes bought the right to control certain infrastructures vital to the empire, including minting the money or collecting taxes. Given his hyperbole about the cost of silver in Valentis, Edana suspected Lord Atreus would lose his family¡¯s fortune if he tried buying the mines over there. The silver market in Valentis would likely collapse before he made back what it cost to buy the mines. Should she help him or not? If she became his agent it would be different from the apprenticeship she¡¯d spent the day seeking, in one vital way: she would not spend a few years in indentured servitude to him. She could go home sooner. But her morning¡¯s quest taught her that not all businessmen were worth partnering with. She couldn¡¯t let her yearning to go home blind her. ¡°What are your terms, Lord Atreus Helenus?¡± ¡°¡®Lord Atreus¡¯ will do. Five silver gryphons for every report, and I¡¯ll throw in a bonus for the pride-saving you did for me today. Plus fifteen silver gryphons for the leg work you do in getting me the report.¡± Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Edana started right away, keeping track of the price of silver, both in ingots fresh from the mine, and works wrought by silversmiths. Every night she used Lady Nensela¡¯s oraculum to read the numbers off to his secretary in Valentis. In turn, Atreus would compare the prices in Kyanopolis to the ones in Valentis. ¡°We¡¯re up to two legs over here,¡± he said once after another report. While Edana earned a decent living, it still was not enough to get her home. After several months she concluded she had been thinking too small: she had originally sought a job. She needed to own a business, as her parents had owned theirs. Atreus proved he would deal fairly with her as an employer. Likely he would deal fairly as a partner, too. After dinner one night she put the notion to Lady Nensela. ¡°There is charity, and then there¡¯s self-interest,¡± Lady Nensela pointed out. ¡°You would stand a better chance in the long term if you show him you¡¯re bringing something worth his while to the arrangement. What will that be?¡± Edana turned the question over in her mind as she poured over the records she¡¯d faithfully kept for Atreus. Any secretary could do her job. Once Atreus made up his mind about investing he¡¯d have no real use for her, and she would be back where she started. What could she do to prove her value? The answer struck her, sharp as a silver bell. She jumped from her chair, causing it to tumble back in her excitement. At last she saw a way to gain the funds she needed to return to Silura, where she would have Bessa and Matrona Aurelia. That ambition had sustained her through the worst of her pain, and was the only reason she got out of bed every morning. In her grief Edana had forgotten about the guilds her parents belonged to, but investigating the artisans reminded her of their existence. The guilds raised money to assist in each other¡¯s burial, and to support each other in times of need. After careful scrutiny, she chose one to pitch her plan to. If anyone could help her get back home, they could. When Lord Atreus sent a message of his impending return to Kyanopolis, Edana rose before dawn the next day. Lady Nensela offered Edana her carriage into town, enabling Edana to arrive safely at her chosen guild by dawn. The silversmith guild was just off a busy square, in a small building sporting a marble fa?ade, suggestive of their level of success. As she was told they would, the guild members gathered early. When she asked for an audience they smiled indulgently, apparently taking her for a prospective client. They kept their smiles as she told them she was from Silura, and was the daughter of a silversmith and a goldsmith. Their smiles faltered when she reached the part of her story where the caravan left Kyanopolis, traveling through the Scrubs. When she recounted the massacre their smiles vanished altogether. ¡°Oh, another one,¡± the elder seethed, his lips curling. ¡°You do know you¡¯re not the first doe-eyed waif coming here with that particular sob story? On and on they wail about their dead folks, who meantime are living quite well for people who are supposed to have been eaten by hydra. Which don¡¯t do well in the desert, by the way, but at least you didn¡¯t try that line. At least you knew to say gryphons were involved. You did your research. Good for you. Now get out of here before we bring in the truth-seers.¡± It took Edana several heartbeats to comprehend his accusation. There were people falsely claiming to have survived the horror she¡¯d endured? ¡°I don¡¯t¡ª¡± The elder cut her off. ¡°You did do the research, didn¡¯t you? Why else are you here, talking to us? Because you know how many of us lost family and friends in the Scrub Massacre?¡± Edana stepped back, stunned. Never had she imagined the guild was connected to her tragedy. It wouldn¡¯t have occurred to her to exploit that connection even if she had known. She had to make them understand, and fast. What would Mama do? Edana drew herself up to her full height and met the elder¡¯s eyes in her most mature manner. ¡°You have me wrong, good man. Bring your truth-seer, by all means.¡± She pointed out the silver on display in the hall. ¡°I know how you made these. I can answer any question you put to me. Test me, and know I am the child of one of your own.¡± Without waiting for a reply, Edana launched into a critique of their craftsmanship, and an analysis of the techniques they had to have used. Did not Papa and Mama cultivate a discerning eye for quality? She leaned hard on their teachings now. Deliberately, she wove into her analysis the carefully guarded secrets only silversmiths would know. And in studying the artisans of Kyanopolis, she realized her father had his own innovations. She took care to hint of them. ¡°How do you know this?¡± The elder, Zebediah, leapt from his chair and descended the dais to stride over to her. He loomed over her, his fists on his hips. Edana kept her nerve, smiling serenely at him. ¡°Do you now believe I am who I say I am?¡± Zebediah¡¯s beard was long enough to tuck into his belt. It streamed in front of him as he whipped his head around to check the reaction of the other guild members. Their expressions of anger and contempt had changed to wary interest. ¡°And if we do?¡± Zebediah asked, watching her face. ¡°If you will acknowledge me as one of your number, I have an offer for you. Regardless, I will keep your trade secrets, in honor of the vow my parents made when they joined the guilds. I will keep this vow, even though your rejection of my claim will free me from that bond. Is that not according to the Sayings of Truth?¡± Now came Edana¡¯s turn to study the elder. Had she convinced him of her own honor? Zebediah would have no right to bind her to the oaths her parents had taken unless he first honored her claim. But right was right. Whether Zebediah acknowledged her as his own or not, Edana still knew better, and she would not betray her parents¡¯ oaths. It now struck Edana that Zebediah¡¯s eyes were the same color as her own¡­and her father¡¯s. In fact, several of the men spoke with accents that made her heart ache. From the first time since she came to Kyanopolis, she began crossing paths with more of Papa¡¯s people. She was curious about them. Was it too much to hope the guild might show her compassion on the grounds of kinship, if professional courtesy was not forthcoming? The men were taken aback, and one of them studied her in frank appraisal. He rose up and joined Zebediah on the floor in front of her. ¡°In exchange for money, you will keep our secrets? This is your proposal?¡± ¡°Not at all. Let me make this clear: I did not come here to harm you. I came here in good faith, for an arrangement we would all benefit from. Of all the guilds I chose this one, because of the exceptional quality and beauty of your work. Think of me as an axis, one that will join you and another together so you both shall prosper, as will I. If you will hear me out, I think you will agree I am no viper.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Zebediah raised an eyebrow. ¡°I have seen for myself how frustrating it is to compete with a fraud. What if you didn¡¯t have to? Partner with us and I think I can put an end to your troubles,¡± she said. ¡°More than this, my partner is highly connected. Your pieces could be sold in other parts of the empire, particularly Valentis.¡± Zebediah and the second man stepped away, to confer with the others. After a while, one of them said, ¡°I have seen you in the marketplace and the shops. I saw you thwart Nicander, a cheap, incompetent, and deceitful lout who passes off his work as though it were ours. That alone has my gratitude; there is one less to drive down our prices and compete unfairly against us. Very well, young woman. We will hear you out.¡± Her heart somersaulted in her triumph.
¡°You want me to pay you in shares? Of the mine?¡± Atreus asked. Lord Silas Atreus met with Edana for dinner at Lady Nensela¡¯s house. Lady Nensela aided Edana¡¯s plan by instructing her slaves to spare no effort in the preparation of a sumptuous meal. She astonished Edana by including a legendary wine from Pelasgos. The wine came in an amphora stamped 125 PC-IV, indicating the vintage was harvested during the Fourth Dark Age, one hundred and twenty-five years after the Fourth Cataclysm. Long ago Nensela stored the amphora under the sea, near her home in Valentis, where it then aged undisturbed for three hundred and twenty years. The results were marvelous. Atreus had arrived in a cheerful mood, which hadn¡¯t dimmed even when Edana made her suggestion. All the same, butterflies danced in her stomach. He could simply sever her employment if he thought it was demeaning to do business with the penniless daughter of artisans. Edana had learned he was gryphon class, though, and unlike the dragon class, the members of the gryphon class weren¡¯t above openly doing business. At least, the right kind of business. ¡°My oraculum is comfortably furnished if you wish to stargaze, Lord Atreus,¡± Lady Nensela said. ¡°You may enjoy it; I find it relaxes me.¡± She looked pointedly at Edana, and Edana wondered how much of her nervousness showed on her face. In the oraculum, Edana claimed one of the two chairs set by the pool. A pitcher of wine and two cups sat on the small table between them, plus saucers of little cakes. Stacks of Edana¡¯s ledgers took up the rest of the space. A slave manipulated the gears to retract the shutters over the dome, then retreated to the far corner of the room. Her chaperone. Atreus had brought the ledgers his secretary made from Edana¡¯s reports. He set his down and opened hers, running his index fingers down one column or another. Every so often he¡¯d make noises of approval. Edana¡¯s hands clenched and unclenched on the fabric of her dress as she focused intently on the stars reflected in the great pool at her feet. She¡¯d already done the math. Atreus could easily buy control of the mine and profit handsomely enough to make back his investment and more. Enough to afford to be generous about taking on a partner and splitting some of the profits. But altruism seemed an amusing concept to him. I find it¡¯s not always enough to be better than the other fellow. One has to make sure everyone else knows, he had said. Well. Time to begin her pitch. ¡°You wanted to have the ingots shipped to Valentis. But if you did that you would save money on the one hand, but waste it on the other. Notice the column where I show you the transport tax and shipping fees? That¡¯s the price for sending ingots to Valentis. Compare it to the price for finished items.¡± ¡°Yes, I noticed,¡± he said, sounding wistful. ¡°What if instead you spent that money on brilliant artisans right here who will make pieces to sell? Some pieces may be set aside as part of a tithe, which they can send to you¡ªat less cost in a box or a trunk, which won¡¯t be as much cause for tears if lost at sea. Unlike a barge of ingots.¡± Atreus¡¯s lips curved. ¡°You were paying attention when I said I like people who save me money. I have decided you are my new favorite person, Young Edana.¡± She smiled uncertainly; she was never sure how to take his jests. The butterflies sat still for a moment as she calmly answered, ¡°I haven¡¯t come yet to the best part: naturally your name would be stamped on the finished pieces, so that people here know your name, and people in Valentis will know how wide-ranging your investments. Naturally. But there¡¯s something else that will enhance your good name.¡± ¡°You have my full attention.¡± Edana recounted for him her attempts to find honest silversmiths, and reminded him of how they met. ¡°That is the real reason silver costs so much in Valentis, I think. Too many cheaters selling debased metal, flooding the market with their wares. The smiths who are assayed as selling true silver can command a higher price, especially from the priests and sorcerers, who in turn monopolize the customers¡¯ side of the market. They overpay to keep everyone else from getting the real silver.¡± ¡°True enough. Do you have some spell up your sleeve to make the others more honest?¡± ¡°My sleeves cannot hide an alethomantis,¡± she said dryly. ¡°A truth-seer. They¡¯re the key. If a smith testified he made genuine silver pieces, the truth-seer can certify the truth of his words. If true, the seer can stamp his own seal on the pieces.¡± ¡°Now there¡¯s a new idea. Brilliant, actually,¡± he judged. He began sipping wine from one of Lady Nensela¡¯s cameo-glass goblets. The white cameo portion depicted the Seeker against a field of cobalt. With a contented sigh Atreus gazed at the stars. ¡°I¡¯m glad you think so. We can also have the pieces enchanted or blessed at a lower price here than you¡¯d obtain in Valentis. No one would have to give up their firstborn plus their second baby¡¯s legs for our silver.¡± ¡°No,¡± he laughed. ¡°But¡­why should you have a share in this?¡± The butterflies began fluttering again at top speed. She pictured a caterpillar taskmaster whipping them. ¡°Because I know quality, and can procure the talented smiths for you to choose for your shop. As I am honest, you can trust me to oversee things. I am prepared to buy my way in.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t realize I was paying you that well.¡± This earned him a lopsided smile. ¡°You aren¡¯t. But I am resourceful, and I have already vouched for my intentions with the authorities.¡± Now for her cornerstone, Edana decided, and brought out a small leather box fastened shut with a leaf-shaped sealbox. The sealbox of an imperial truth-seer. Atreus sat up straighter and set down his cup. ¡°This is Lord Pera¡¯s sealbox. In Valentis we call him Lord-Gives-No-Quarter, since he never votes for mercy once he outs someone¡¯s conspiracy in court.¡± Oh? When Edana chose Lord Pera, all she knew of him was that he operated in both Valentis and Kyanopolis, and he enjoyed a reputation for strict his scruples as a truth-seer. The silversmiths¡¯ guild had recommended him, after finally disbursing the orphan aid fund to her. In doing so they enabled her to avoid financial debt, and to ensure that her part in their arrangement was free and clear of legal entanglements. And, as she expected, some of the members, her father¡¯s countrymen, recognized her as their own. They introduced her to elders of the temple of the Sower, Zebediah explaining, ¡°When any girlchild of our people is orphaned, we don¡¯t leave her without means for her future. We¡¯d have set up a dowry for you, but we suspect you¡¯ll provide yourself one, if your venture works. We will do our part, and you will do yours.¡± Now Atreus lifted the sealbox lid, confirming it contained the wax seal of Lord Pera. Whipping out an onyx-hilted dagger, he cut the strings that bound the sealbox to the leather chest. What he saw inside the box made him whistle. ¡°Beautiful,¡± he marveled, lifting out a silver pendant of a sea dragon. It was finely detailed, right down to the horns and scales. On the back was a smaller version of Lord Pera¡¯s mark of authentication. ¡°One of the silversmiths I spoke of made this for you. Wear it on your voyages. The Marinite priests blessed it; you will have the Sea Lord¡¯s protection on your travels,¡± Edana said. For a long moment, Atreus sat gazing at the pendant. There was no question of its beauty, at least. He reached back into the box and brought out a letter from Lord Pera. The truthseer¡¯s letter certified Edana¡¯s intentions. Atreus read aloud in his most sonorous voice, switching to a falsetto when he came to Lady Nensela¡¯s seal next to Lord Pera¡¯s at the bottom. ¡°She¡¯s taking this guardianship business quite seriously,¡± he observed. ¡°Fortunately for you. Few fools are so foolish as to cross a Ta-Setian. Those immortals are terrifyingly patient in their vengeance. Pull a girl¡¯s braid when you¡¯re ten, and she curses you so you¡¯ll be bald when you¡¯re forty.¡± Running a hand through his dark, still luxuriant hair, he hastily added, ¡°Not that they¡¯re petty, don¡¯t get me wrong. Please assure Lady Nensela that I¡¯m well aware she can call the Destroyer down on me. I will continue to deal honorably with you, young Optima Nuriel.¡± ¡°You have my gratitude,¡± she said dryly. Atreus downed the rest of his wine, then stood. He stretched out his hand to her. Edana rose, too. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, she took his hand. What was he up to? ¡°You¡¯re something else, young optima,¡± he said with a laugh. ¡°In your quiver you have not one but two heavy hitters, and the means to add prestige to mine. Alright, I¡¯m game. I will partner with you, if for no other reason than to see what you come up with next.¡±
Bessa exclaimed, ¡°So you¡¯re the reason artisans have started putting a truth-seer¡¯s marks on their gold and silver and whatnot. I wondered who started that trend! It makes shopping so much easier. Now anyone who doesn¡¯t have the marks is run out of town if they try to pass off their fakes as pure or genuine. I¡¯m impressed by how many good deeds you committed at a single stroke.¡± Edana smiled slightly. ¡°Well¡­Lord Atreus and I were successful with the shop and the mines, but I kept an eye on the cost of voyages to Silura. I thought I¡¯d concluded the ¡®Kyanopolis chapter¡¯ of my life when I was able to donate to the orphan fund twice the amount I had received from it.¡± ¡°Twice the amount? Oh, I am so proud of you! The odds were against you, yet you still stayed true to what your parents taught us.¡± Edana flushed. Quickly she said, ¡°My success meant more than I thought it did. That very night, after I made the donation, a guest came to visit Lady Nensela. Or rather, to see me. Before he came, I thought my gaining the seer¡¯s seal of approval was an unalloyed good, if you¡¯ll forgive the expression. But you notice what I said about the situation in Valentis? At the time I thought it was just chance that so many crooked artisans were flooding the market there. Some people are honest, some people are cheaters. Cities have more of both types, and that¡¯s that.¡± Bessa stiffened. ¡°This was part of a plan?¡± ¡°Yes, but I didn¡¯t know until our visitor explained it to me. At first he claimed to want to hire a silver broker. I earned a reputation by then, so it was not so strange he should hear of me. But Lady Nensela¡¯s tutors taught me well, and I recognized his aegis when the necklace slipped out. I still think he intended me to see it.¡± ¡°Enter the Star Dragon,¡± Bessa guessed. Edana¡¯s quiet laugh said it all. ¡°An arcanus, yes. And he needed my help.¡± Chapter 7: The Pegasus Prime’s Report VII The Pegasus Prime¡¯s Report In which Edana rallies the soldiers and Aurelia makes a startling decision Edana left her tale unfinished, unwilling to risk anyone else overhearing it. Now in the bath complex, Bessa and Edana hurried to join the other Philomelos women in the warm room. Lenora, who had waited for Bessa in the women¡¯s dressing room, now came forward to assist. She carried a jar of oil infused with vervain, a flower sacred to the Restorer; a reminder to Bessa that Lenora had a touch of healing powers. Originally, Bessa had intended to send Lenora to the healer¡¯s school established by Bessa¡¯s grandfather. Now she decided Lenora might be safer amongst others trained in combat sorcery. Therefore, Lenora would go to the Rhabdo in Pippa¡¯s company. Long ago, Bessa secretly vowed that when Lenora went for her training she would do so as a freedwoman. She would be well-set up, prepared to face her future. To this end, Bessa matched Lenora¡¯s savings, unbeknownst to Lenora. Like all slaves, Lenora kept her savings to buy her freedom. An undertaking made easier thanks to Bessa¡¯s business ventures. The extra funds would serve as a springboard for Lenora¡¯s future. Years ago, her grandmother showed Bessa the key to their family¡¯s success was in treating their slaves and employees well. They attracted a better quality of worker, and fostered profound loyalty from their slaves even after the slaves bought their freedom. Besides Min¡¯da Nuriel taught her better: no one should stay in bondage against their will forever. Somehow, she would make good on her vow. As she handed Lenora her clothes, Bessa glanced back at Edana. She did a double take, startled. Edana wore fine woolen undergarments, as did she. But Edana sported extra accessories: a knife, strapped to each thigh. Knives similar in shape to a kopis or falcata sword, but made of an intriguing substance. The top part of the knives had a forward drop, and the cutting edge recurved inward. Forged from an opalescent material, the blades were etched with a spell, the nature of which Bessa could not guess. Immediately, Bessa realized the significance of the material: This was how Edana could kill giants. Moonbow blades. In Siluran legends¡ªand perhaps other parts of the empire¡ªthe Huntress carried knives identical to Edana¡¯s. But unlike Edana, the goddess forged Her blades from the light of a lunar rainbow She pulled from the heavens, in the dawn age of the world. Unmoored, the remnants of the rainbow shattered, sowing precious stones deep into the bowels of Thuraia. Firestones, as Silurans called them, on account of their fiery, iridescent colors. Surgeons and soldiers alike coveted them, for edged firestones cut through bone and metal with ease. Anything made from them was priceless. Centuries ago an emperor had decreed that any mines containing them were automatically an imperial possession. No emperor since had rescinded the decree, nor were they ever likely to. It was a moot issue, for as far as Bessa knew, only dryads and the Salamandra could obtain the stones at will. Among humans, firestone weapons were legally restricted to high-ranking venatori, the priests or sorcerers aligned with the Huntress¡­but Edana worshipped the Sower. Exclusively worshipped Him, for she did not acknowledge the other gods as gods at all. Edana, seeing her curiosity, put a finger to her lips and pointed at Lenora, who was busy folding Bessa¡¯s gown and didn¡¯t see her. Bessa dutifully distracted Lenora while Edana carefully concealed her knives. In the warm bath Bessa¡¯s aunts talked nonstop about the giants, and their worries about what they would find come morning. Would the giants return? Did they need to flee Silura? But to where? Unfortunately, Edana could offer them no comfort on that score. She reminded them there was no point in running. ¡°Many people are working on getting answers. The emperor himself wants them. But you must be vigilant, and remember your town needs you, and you are best positioned to help. That is worth a great deal,¡± Edana said. Grandmother, resting against the gently sloping walls of the pool, closed her eyes and said, ¡°There is no point in speculating. Tomorrow we will know. We will bury our dead and we will rebuild, and by the Seeker¡¯s Alliance the fiends who did this shall be found and destroyed.¡± Something in Grandmother¡¯s voice caught Bessa¡¯s attention, prompting her to move closer. Grandmother opened her eyes and peered at her. For the first time it hit Bessa that Grandmother would not go on forever. Of course she knew Grandmother was mortal, but knowing and accepting were two different things. Grandmother was eternally a rock, the elder Bessa looked to for guidance, and Bessa assumed she would always have her wisdom and protection. She had lasted the longest, so she would last forever. The thought of Grandmother¡¯s permanent absence made Bessa¡¯s stomach plunge, and for a moment tears sprang to her eyes. Quickly, she looked away and grit her teeth, furious with herself. Some Philomelos she turned out to be! A Philomelos was supposed to be a source of unwavering strength, a beacon to others in distress. In times of crisis, a Philomelos radiated with cool authority. To cry in self-pity, or break down to no purpose, would never do. It did not become a granddaughter of Aurelia to be a ninny at a time like¡ª Beneath the water, Grandmother¡¯s hand found hers, and held tight. Bessa inhaled, startled. Slowly, she counted silently until she was sure she could keep her composure. She squeezed Grandmother¡¯s hand in turn and exhaled. Grandmother¡¯s gaze was serene, but her cheek spasmed, betraying her own attempt to maintain composure. Tonight was not the first time she¡¯d suffered losses. Bessa¡¯s own father was a common source of grief to them, but where he was a distant memory to Bessa, to Grandmother he had been a son she raised and let herself hope would outlive her. Grandmother persevered and stayed strong. Yet Bessa was certain she had to be worried that all she had built would be taken from them. Worried her life¡¯s work had gone to ash and ruin, sundering the legacy she meant to leave her descendants. ¡°You must leave.¡± What? Grandmother continued, her tone low but the iron in her voice unmistakable. ¡°There is peril here, and we are a target. Our vineyard cannot move, but you can. You will do so anyway, when you marry. So do it now. You are the only child Nikandros ever had, and I will not see you lost forever.¡± What? ¡°Grandmother. You need me. I must be here to help rebuild, you can¡¯t ask me to leave. I¡ª¡± ¡°Edana,¡± Grandmother called to her, in that same quiet voice that unnerved Bessa now. Edana, who had kept a discreet distance away from the others, treaded over to them. Her eyes were shadowed, pensive as she met Grandmother¡¯s gaze. Grandmother put her free hand on Edana¡¯s shoulder, and brought the other woman still closer. ¡°Your father made a blood bond with my firstborn. Your mother nursed Bessa alongside you when Bessa¡¯s mother died. For those reasons I would have raised you as my own had you come. You are obviously the reason I still have the child of Nikandros. For that reason your children¡¯s children shall have a place here, as I count you as my heir from this time forward. So then, I ask you to guard my Bessa. I am sending her to the man to whom she is pledged. Until she is safe with him, I place her under your protection, that you guard her with your life. Will you do this?¡± Time stood still. Everything seemed unreal; Bessa felt herself far away as Edana¡¯s solemn answer came. ¡°My heart always longed to be here. I will always regret what could have been. In my heart, your family is my family, too. Yet, I fear I would betray the spirit of my friendship by taking Bessa with me, for however short a time. She will not be as safe with me as you think.¡± Grandmother would not be deterred. ¡°As Nikandros guarded Min¡¯da¡¯s back, as Min¡¯da guarded Nikandros¡¯s back, so shall you and Bessa guard each other¡¯s. Who else would you trust to care for your life as though it were her own?¡± Edana closed her eyes. She kept them closed seemingly forever, and only the rise and fall of her chest told Bessa that Edana was at war with herself. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Bessa, too, was at war with herself. Once upon a time she and Edana had dreamt of traveling together, of seeing the places that were only names on maps or settings in stories. That dream had not died. But more importantly, Edana was also her foster sister, her heart-sister, and Grandmother had it exactly right: who else should Edana trust to guard her back? But what could Bessa do to help her? Like Edana, Bessa would choose death over betraying the spirit of their friendship. What was right? If she did not go, and something happened to Edana, could she forgive herself? Could she truly say she had done right by her? Bessa put her hand on Edana¡¯s other shoulder. ¡°You aren¡¯t alone anymore. You faced that desert alone, but this time, whatever you face, we will face together.¡± Edana opened her eyes. Sea green met amber as the two locked gazes. ¡°Together,¡± she echoed.
Not until breakfast did Uncle Morivassus rejoin them. During the night he sent a message via Xylon¡¯s sylph. She breezed through a window and unerringly aimed herself at Aunt Nerissa. The sylph, barely larger than a butterfly, sweetly informed Nerissa that her husband still lived, and would return in the morning. Then she flew away again, leaving in her wake the faint fragrance of cherry trees. And their awe. Sylphs normally stayed close to dryad groves, none of which were near Falcon¡¯s Hollow. But they bonded sometimes with venatori, including Pegasus Prime Xylon. Bessa spotted her uncle before the others did. He looked haggard as he shuffled into the banquet hall. When he glanced around he did not appear to see anything. Soot clung to his face and clothes, and the dirt caked his boots. So tightly did he grip his sword, that his right hand appeared to be welded to his pommel. The sharp scent of smoke coming from him made her eyes water. Bessa glanced back, to make sure no one else saw him yet. She took his free hand, leading him to the fountain in one corner of the room. A semicircle of white marble rimmed the fountain, with soft towels at one end, and a silver pitcher on the other. Bessa filled the pitcher, and in turn poured out the crystalline water into a silver bowl. The bowl, she noticed, was embossed with a vervain motif. Without a word, her uncle took a towel and cleaned his face and hands while she waited. As she expected, he looked more alert when he finished. The waters of the fountain came from a spring blessed by the naiads, water nymphs believed to be the daughters of the Restorer. As she knew it would, the water rejuvenated him. How long the effects would last? Perhaps not as long as it would have if he drank the water. Still, Bessa needed to question him, but it would be cruel to do so if he was too exhausted to even remember his own name. The others gave a start when she led Uncle Morivassus to the table, and immediately started to pepper him with questions. At Bessa¡¯s command they backed down. ¡°Leave him alone! Let him eat first. And greet his family,¡± she added, stepping aside when her aunt and her cousins rushed Uncle Morivassus all at once. Aurelius and Lucius clung to their father¡¯s legs, impeding his progress as he made his way to the table. Her other uncles leaned forward, but a stern look from Bessa quelled any attempts to question him. Aunt Nerissa fawned over him, of course, and Uncle Linos lightly teased him about fighting alongside the army, considering that Uncle Morivassus was a navy veteran. Uncle Morivassus returned fire, and his quip assured Bessa of his mental alertness. His voice was hoarse; however, and Bessa insisted he not tax himself speaking unnecessarily. At last he pushed his plate away, and Grandmother promptly gestured for Lenora to take the children out of the mess hall. ¡°What about the other survivors?¡± Bessa asked. She sat across from him, in the seat Aurelius had just vacated. As it turned out, the survivors fled through the fens, taking refuge with a neighbor on the other side. But the bulk of the vinedressers were dead. The lightning fires destroyed a little more than a third of the vines, and the winegrowers¡¯ compound was uninhabitable. Out of the corner of her eye Bessa saw Centurion Makris and Pegasus Prime Xylon approaching¡ªdeep in conversation with Edana. However, there were four in their group, with the last being a woman Bessa recognized as Pegasus Prime of the Watch, Devona Senovara. Both Senovara¡¯s name and accent underscored that she was the only native Siluran officer. By her title, she was both the first-ranked sorceress of her legion, and the commander of the Watch in Falcon¡¯s Hollow. Bessa; however, knew her from the public bathhouse gymnasium, where they ostensibly took their exercise. In reality, they went for the same reasons: keeping abreast of news, gossip, and opportunities. Uncle Morivassus continued, reporting that the giants made it to the Philomelos house and blasted the doors. That was where he and the Watch soldiers intercepted them. That was when things got interesting. The giants spoke, again. This time they did not chant about servants and motes. The scouts observed the giants were searching, but not actually destroying. One giant, who appeared to be the leader, held aloft a staff topped with a scrying globe. The leader consulted the crystal in a strange language, and screamed at the response the ball revealed to it. ¡°Wonder what it wanted to know,¡± Bessa mused. She jumped in surprise when Pegasus Prime Senovara spoke, her voice roughened by smoke. ¡°The whereabouts of your family.¡± The Watch commander stood only a foot behind her. She, too, looked as if the evening had taxed her. Soot covered her from head to foot, dimming even her Oathtaker clasp. So grim was her frown, Bessa nearly forgot ever seeing her smile. Senovara spoke through clenched teeth, as though she could barely restrain her fury. Her left hand was bandaged, as was Xylon¡¯s. Bessa¡¯s eyes narrowed as she considered the likely cause of their wounds. Senovara said, ¡°Someone sent these giants. An enemy I do not know, but will find.¡± Bessa caught Edana¡¯s eye. Edana subtly shook her head, and they kept their silence as Senovara continued. Joining forces, the battle sorcerers from both the Watch and the shore fort managed to paralyze the giants. The soldiers decapitated all except the leader. As Edana warned, the bodies disintegrated upon death. ¡°How did you get it to tell you what it was up to?¡± Bessa asked. Senovara lifted her bandaged hand. ¡°A blood spell,¡± she said, confirming Bessa¡¯s suspicions. Senovara, Xylon, and their sub primes each made a donation, allowing them to compel the giant to speak to them. ¡°Destroying your vineyard was their secondary purpose,¡± Senovara said. ¡°But their prime directive was to find and destroy your family.¡± Silence. Bessa watched her family take in the report; the wheels turning in their minds. Edana stepped forward, reading the thoughts on their faces. ¡°The only reassurance I can offer is three things,¡± she said, and held up her index finger. ¡°The giants have not struck any place twice¡±¡ªtwo fingers¡ª¡°and they can be killed¡±¡ªshe met their eyes before she raised her ring finger. ¡°And their plan to make an example of you is now flipped around.¡± The officers stirred, but Edana¡¯s gaze arrested them. ¡°No Siluran, no Rasena Valentian, should quiver when hearing of these giants, not after last night. People were supposed to think that no matter how well-guarded, they could not face the giants and live. But the giants and their masters miscalculated: they came here. The giants have gone unchecked in the Cloudwalk, in the Cauldron, in Tartessia, but they fell in Silura. That counts for much.¡± A ripple of delight went through the ranks of the soldiers at her words. Bessa suppressed a smile. The other parts of the empire may think of Silura as overrun with barbaric yokels, and the legions posted to her lands could consider their lot as un-prestigious and unpromising all they wanted. But no one could take away the truth in what Edana said: giants could destroy other parts of the empire, but in Silura they would meet their match.
Bessa accompanied her grandmother and uncles back to the estate, to see the damage with her own eyes. They traveled in a topless carriage, so they saw the smoke in the distance long before setting foot on the grounds. Her heart grew heavier the closer they came to her home. Now. Now she must face her dead, and see their agony and terror permanently stamped on their faces. Bessa hugged herself, attempting to regain her resolve. There was a chill in the air, which would likely disappear before the sun reached its zenith for the day. Sorcha, one of the five wandering stars in the Seeker¡¯s Alliance, still glimmered, but She was fast sinking behind the sun. Bessa¡¯s mind swirled with endless to-do lists, things she must take care of before Edana was due to leave. She focused on the low-slung fences lining the main road they traveled. At regular intervals the fences had stone posts topped with large glowlights. At night the lights would blaze a path for anyone on the road. Another legacy of her family. Night travel was hazardous in other parts of Rasena Valentis, and even in the capital of Silura. In Falcon¡¯s Hollow, Nikolaos Philomelos observed that his patients did not get sick during daylight hours only. If someone wished to call on him, how might they see their way to him if they could not afford a glowlight? Or an oraculum of their own to summon him from their own homes? And the darkness was friend to thieves and murderers. No matter how desperate a patient, or how dedicated a healer, traveling at night was foolish. So, he approached the town fathers with a plan: on every road there should be lights activated by the motion of passersby. The huge orbs would glow in different colors according to what streets they illuminated. Green lights along a path led to farms on the outskirts of town. Golden lights signaled the road to the market square. Blue lights led to healers, and the healers¡¯ school Nikolaos had established. Silver lights led to the Watch or the shore fort. For everything else, bronze. Proximity activated the glowlights, which meant all travelers would know if someone approached them, even before seeing them. Scoundrels trying to tamper with the lights would find their efforts in vain. Destruction of one light in a sequence would cause all other lights along the line to swirl with a multitude of colors, thus warning the intended victim that someone with nefarious intent was nearby. The lighting system was why Uncle Morivassus and the house guards who had accompanied him needed to travel alternate routes to the Watch, to ensure complete evasion of any giants abroad. Bessa; however, thought about how the street lights affected the economy and lives of the people of Falcon¡¯s Hollow. Where before only the well-off, or large groups could risk night time activities outside their homes, in her lifetime plays and festivals routinely continued into the night. Townspeople would gather at the bathhouse her grandfather had donated to the town. The loss of her family would mean the end of such contributions to the townspeople and their lives. For two generations her family had been alone in their philanthropy. But their efforts over time attracted others in, around, and far from Falcon¡¯s Hollow. The amenities they made available attracted soldiers-turned-yeomen, craftsmen, tradesmen, and opened opportunities that took Falcon¡¯s Hollow from its beginnings as a glorified outpost to a full-fledged, thriving town. Aunt Nerissa brought her shipping company to Falcon¡¯s Hollow long before she married Uncle Morivassus; and between her old crew and Uncle Morivassus¡¯s fellow navy veterans, they built up the port from virtually nothing. More than likely Edana was right, the traitor wasn¡¯t against the Philomelos family personally. The point was that killing her family would affect Falcon¡¯s Hollow as a whole. The town would survive, but Bessa doubted the loss of visionary leaders like her grandmother and aunts and uncles would be a blessing for the future. Anger stirred within her, and for the first time her thoughts turned to retribution. She fixated on Edana¡¯s speech at breakfast. The enemy who had come after the Philomelos family may have gotten away with such treacheries before. But Edana was right, her family was not without influence. Smiling for the first time, Bessa relaxed in her seat. New plans simmered in her mind. She knew now how she would help Edana, and in doing so, help her country. Chapter 8: Farewells & Stratagems VIII Farewells and Stratagems In which Bessa plans to destroy an enemy, and gives an extraordinary gift to a faithful servant To Bessa¡¯s left, tendrils of smoke rose from the remains of what had been a row of detached houses. To her right, the soot-blackened stones of the apartment building. All had stood there since before she was born, as part of Grandmother¡¯s plan to entice the better laborers to their estate. In much of the empire, apartment buildings were deathtraps, built of cheap wood and prone to fires. So, Grandmother insisted her apartment building, three stories tall, be built of brick and stone. On the lower level she provided a water closet, and a kitchen with running water. As a youth, Bessa¡¯s father used the apartment to prototype a water screw which provided water to the upper levels. Grandmother used it as another selling point. A bath house stood between the flats and the houses, across the courtyard from where Bessa now stood as she clutched a small leather chest. Grandmother¡¯s tactic had worked: entire families came from all over Silura, Sir?nasse and Tartessia to work on their estate. The workers responded with their own lively touches, putting gardens on their rooftops and mosaics on their floors and walls. Laughter and songs often rang out from their quarters. Until the giants. In the plaza Bessa found what she sought: her dead laid out, covered in shrouds, silenced forever. Pain lanced her heart when she spotted the smaller shrouds. She remembered when those children were born. Bessa had delayed her coming only for as long as it took for Lenora to fetch her the bronze strongbox she now clutched in her hands. The box was usually stored in the family library, but Bessa had never seen anyone use it. Grandmother forbade its contents to be employed for petty slights. Slowly, Bessa forced herself to approach the first shroud. She knelt down beside it. After several heartbeats her nerves steadied enough for her to lift the fabric, revealing the face of the first victim. The woman appeared to be sleeping. Her brow was still furrowed in concentration, as if she¡¯d died in the midst of one of her many tasks. In life the woman kept her brown hair in tight bun, excepting the grey lock curling on her forehead. Now her hair resembled a bird¡¯s nest, which would have outraged her if she saw it. Bessa smoothed her hair, trying to put it back in place. Alive, the woman had been a bundle of energy. Now she was too peaceful: Ria, mother of Oran. Bessa opened the box and took out the knife, sharp obsidian; and the bowl, red and etched in white with patterns of blackthorn blossoms. She pierced her thumb, letting her blood fall into the bowl. Lifting Ria¡¯s hand, she repeated the procedure. All down the line of dead, Bessa collected blood. As ordered, Lenora had also provided a pot of fresh myrrh ink. The ink of priests and sorcerers, which Bessa mingled now with the blood. The box held blank lead tablets, consecrated long ago. Beaten flat and smooth, the tablets were soft enough for her to write upon them with her iron stylus. She dipped the stylus into the bowl, then swiftly inscribed the names of her dead. Finished, Bessa stood now and cried out, ¡°Hear my plea, O Mighty Ones! I, Elisabet Bessa Philomelos, petition you in the blood of my dead, as witness against those who slew them. Let it be: by Aletheia their deceptions shall be uncovered, and by Sorcha, their secret plans shall be brought into the light. Let it be: by Khratu, wise counsel shall be withheld from them, that they are yielded up to spirits of Confusion and Dissension. Decree it so: by the Huntress, they shall be pursued on all sides, and their strongholds besieged. Their very lives shall be delivered into my hand, that I may in turn deliver them to the Destroyer. Let it be: by the Destroyer, they shall be cast into the Abyss.¡±
The carpenters were already working on new back doors to her house when Bessa arrived. Quickly, Bessa got out of the way, then took to the stairs two at a time as she hurried to her apartments. She had asked Edana to meet her there. The first room was her office, or ¡°the command center,¡± as Uncle Hedrek called it. Here she had channeled her imagination into running the vineyard. Nerves jangled all over her body as she glanced around. In times past she used the mural of the naiad queen Kyane frolicking with her asrai handmaidens, to calm herself when she needed to relax and regroup. A border of gold waterlilies, centered in panels at regular intervals, bisected the wall horizontally. The floor was a mosaic ¡®rug¡¯ of sky blue tiles, with a blue waterlily inside a square with a geometrical border. All quite relaxing. Bessa fingered Papa¡¯s catoblepas aegis, still around her neck. The walls opposite the mural had shelves built into them, where she kept codices. On a center shelf she displayed a plate-sized, gold-glass family portrait, made when Papouli and Papa were still alive. If she failed, mementos could be all that was left of her family. Her eyes landed on Edana¡¯s gift, where Lenora had placed it on her desk. She paused to again admire the book, and the pen. Would she live to write a play worthy of this gift? She stepped into her bedroom. Her sanctum, as she called it. Far simpler in design than her office, with carmine walls and gold panel moulding featuring black filigree patterns in the center. Success in business afforded Bessa an occasion or two to indulge in extravagance. For her this meant the curtains surrounding her bed were white shimmersilk¡ªa delicate, sheer fabric¡ªand embroidered with tiny red roses. Because she hadn¡¯t slept in bed last night the curtains were drawn back, revealing the soft summer-weight bedclothes which were still turned down, awaiting her. ¡°Farewell, soft sweetness,¡± Bessa muttered, as she made a beeline for the cabinet where she kept her clothes. Wisps of perfume wafted out when she opened the door, thanks to sachets of dried spikenard and sweet woodruff. The sweet-smelling herbs kept away moths and insects. Gently, she lifted a particular stack of clothing, reaching far back into the cabinet until her fingers touched metal. With a firm grasp she pulled, bringing forth a small box. Openwork bronze formed a pattern of myrtle flowers, backed by mother-of-pearl and abalone. Bessa ran her fingers over the flowers. On her wedding day she would be crowned with myrtle. Such was the custom. Inside the box, nestled in silk, gleamed Bessa¡¯s pledge ring. Two stones set in a golden figure-eight, one gem a persimmon-colored topaz, the other gem a lapis lazuli. The stones represented the sun and the moon, an arrangement her future father-in-law said was a family tradition. As his wife, Bessa was to be the third point of light in Lysander¡¯s life. She had not been invited to the negotiations for her betrothal. Grandmother made the arrangements, after carefully vetting the potential matches. One day she left Falcon¡¯s Hollow, and returned two months later with Lord Pherekydes Xenakis, father to the one Bessa would marry. At first Bessa only felt relief, that it was not the old man himself she would marry. She was twelve, and still reeling from the fact that she had crossed into a phase of life she never thought would apply to her. Never, until Grandmother explained why she had begun to bleed. Staring at the ring, Bessa brooded. In all these years, her future husband never wrote to her. All along she supposed Lysander would write, or better still, visit as their wedding drew nearer. Such was customary with arranged betrothals. So absorbed was she in her apprenticeship in running the vineyard that Bessa never gave Lysander¡¯s silence much thought. Besides, she also never met anyone compelling enough to make her regret her betrothal. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Still, now, Grandmother expected Lysander to look after her, as thoroughly as Papouli had looked after Grandmother during the Furi Incursions. Grandmother and Papouli had fallen in love while defending Falcon¡¯s Hollow against sea raiders who had attacked villages all along Silura¡¯s coastlands. The townspeople had looked to Grandmother to lead them, and Papouli did the same when the centurion he was enslaved to was gravely wounded. In one telling Grandmother smiled impishly at Bessa, and confessed that she improvised a lot of her tactics on the stories her own father told her about his days in the legion. ¡°I¡¯ll have to improvise a lot,¡± Bessa muttered. ¡°Bessa?¡± Edana stood in the doorway. Bessa jumped, reflexively snapping the box shut. ¡°Come in.¡± Accepting her invitation Edana looked around, taking in the changes to the room since she last saw it six years ago. Her eyes lit when she saw the miniature kitchenware set on a shelf near the armoire. The set was a favorite part of the games she and Bessa played when they were little. In those days, Bessa kept it on a table in the middle of her bedroom, with her doll occupying one of four chairs. The other three chairs were reserved for herself, Edana, and Edana¡¯s doll. Later, Bessa put the set away, to make space for projects and maps for their ¡®adventures.¡¯ Those went away when she woke up as a woman, and learned what was in store for her. At that point she and Edana spent their afternoons comparing notes, speculating on what their lives would be like now that they exchanged their childish tunics for pretty chitons. And then, suddenly, Edana had to leave Silura, taking with her all of their plans. ¡°We need to talk,¡± Edana said. Something in her tone caught Bessa¡¯s attention. ¡°I better explain to you what I¡¯m up against. I will keep my word to Matrona Aurelia and get you to this Lysander. But I meant it when I said I am in danger, and you need to understand what I¡¯m facing.¡± As if the years never passed, Bessa and Edana sat on the bench at the foot of the bed, their accustomed place for heart-to-hearts. Bessa asked, ¡°Are you going to tell me where you got the moonbow blades? And why you know how to kill giants?¡± ¡°Ahh, but I don¡¯t know how to kill giants, as it turns out. Did you overhear what the soldiers were saying at breakfast?¡± ¡°That killing giants is the most exciting thing they¡¯ve ever done?¡± ¡°The giants regenerate,¡± Edana said quietly, outlining what had happened during her attempted interrogation of the giant. Before Bessa could dwell on this terrifying implication, Edana brought forth one of her moonbow daggers. The knife took on a red glow in the play of colors, reflecting Bessa¡¯s walls. ¡°I have killed before. In the Scrubs, after I joined Lady Nensela¡¯s caravan, I spotted the raiders who attacked my caravan. Lady Nensela set a trap for them.¡± She flashed a mirthless smile. ¡°Immortals are excellent at retribution. By her counsel, I had the satisfaction of killing the gryphon that killed my mother. One of her guards helped me make a cloak from its feathers. I¡¯ll show it to you when we reach Lady Nensela.¡± ¡°Wait, wait¡ªdoesn¡¯t she live in¡ª?¡± ¡°Yes, we¡¯re going there, when I¡¯m finished in Silura.¡± Her fingers traced the spells etched in the knife. ¡°This weapon is not mine. Both knives belonged to Amalu, the Star Dragon who wanted my help. Our enemies are vicious, wicked people¡­and I have no room for error. I don¡¯t want you to pay the price if I¡¯m caught.¡± She rammed the knife into its sheath. ¡°If I¡¯m caught, you can¡¯t stand with me. Understand? Promise to disavow all knowledge of what I¡¯m doing. To all inquisitors you¡¯re an innocent victim seeking the protection of your betrothed. Naturally, your foster sister accompanies you. The story sells itself¡ª¡± The expression on Bessa¡¯s face stopped her cold. ¡°Abandon you? At the first sign of trouble? As if I have no honor!¡± ¡°What of my honor? I vowed not to get you killed! Or ruin your name. I couldn¡¯t live with myself if that happened. Bessa¡ªyou don¡¯t know what this is costing me. I can¡¯t turn back. And I can¡¯t do what I¡¯m supposed to do if it means risking you. I should not have come.¡± She whispered this last. Bessa set her jaw. ¡°I know why you came. You came because you¡¯re alone and you need someone you can trust. You came because of what you lost in that desert. You came because I¡¯m the only family you¡¯ve got¡ªand you wouldn¡¯t dare trust anyone else to protect me. So let¡¯s not fight about this. We¡¯re in this together. Both of our lives are at stake,¡± she insisted. While counting to ten, Bessa chose her words with care. ¡°Stop thinking like a lone wolf. We¡¯re a pack, and we will watch out for each other. I can help you, Edana. I¡¯ve been thinking about how, and I have an idea.¡± She stood then, and began pacing. Silent, Edana watched her, and Bessa inwardly somersaulted. Victory was near; Edana always grew quiet when Bessa succeeded in making a point. So now to push the point home. ¡°Remember you keep pointing out my family has influence,¡± Bessa began. ¡°Exactly so; Grandmother cultivated considerable influence for our family. So successfully cultivated that our workers come from as far as Sir?nasse and Tartessia. If I tell people what happened here, it will carry far. And if I tell them who I suspect did it that, too, will carry far. Let the traitor¡¯s name be sullied, not ours. When the traitor is dead, how hard will it be to make a case that you or I killed him in self-defense? The traitor must operate in secret, in the dark. We can operate in the open, in the light. Let the traitor be on the defensive.¡± Edana cocked her head. Bessa smiled coldly and said, ¡°Not only will we kill the traitor, but also his good name, and the trust others put in him. Centurion Makris and Pegasus Prime Senovara¡¯s reports will add weight to what I say. The attack on my family is an opportunity. For us.¡± ¡°Mm-hmm¡­but if you remember, you worked out the traitor was someone powerful. Someone who could interfere with the Watch.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Bessa agreed. ¡°The point is, whoever sits high enough to do that is a visible target, just like my family is a visible target. And visible means enemies. If the traitor falls, who gains? We have more allies than you think. If you must kill the traitor, then let it be me who prepares the ground.¡±
Bessa was not the only one leaving home. Instead of waiting until after the harvest, when the other children of the village would go, Pippa was to leave straightaway for the Rhabdomachaeum. Bessa promptly decided Lenora would travel with her. Pippa vowed, ¡°If we¡¯re ever attacked again, I will be able to stop it. I will. I will learn all I can, and then the giants will learn to me fear me. As soon as I finish my studies, I will teach those giants not to cross our paths. Just wait.¡± They stood in the front room, surrounded by servants carrying their trunks out to the carriages. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect for Uncle Linos and Aunt Vesper to let you go so soon,¡± Bessa replied. ¡°I insisted. I didn¡¯t like being so helpless last night. Our people were slaughtered, and Uncle Morivassus only had two guards to look after him, and I couldn¡¯t do anything! Gavin said he¡¯ll join the legion the very day he¡¯s seventeen. And when I¡¯m trained, I could protect us.¡± And her parents, of course, wanted her out of danger, Bessa knew. Pippa swore she would take Senovara¡¯s place in the Watch. ¡°The giants better give this town a wide berth.¡± A high, girlish squeal cut through the din, followed by the sound of footsteps hurrying towards them. Lenora. She was carrying a green chiton Bessa had set out for her. White and yellow flowers embroidered at the hem, and matched the belt looped around the middle. Lovely enough, but Bessa suspected Lenora was excited because the dress was dyed linen. That, and the pretty sandals she held in her left hand. ¡°My lady! This is a fine gift,¡± Lenora said when she reached her. She bent slightly at the waist, in obeisance to Bessa. Bessa went to her and embraced her shoulders. She kissed Lenora¡¯s forehead. Lenora gasped, for there was only reason a slave would be kissed so. ¡°You have served me well and faithfully, Lenora. From this point forward your life is your own, to live was you will. I put the documents in your trunk that prove it so. Our teachers always thought well of your aptitude, so you don¡¯t need me to wish you luck in your training. Instead, I give you my blessings. May you live a good life.¡± Tears slid down Lenora¡¯s cheeks, and Bessa smiled at her joy. When she was younger, Lenora¡¯s parents sold her into slavery to pay off their debts. Her mother; however, was not too desperate to fail to calculate that Lenora would live well on the Philomelos estate. More to the point, she thought Lenora would be safer in Bessa¡¯s power than in the power of their family¡¯s creditors. To that end, she pleaded with Bessa to take on Lenora as a handmaiden. Compassion won out, but Lenora¡¯s mother surprised Bessa¡ªand earned her respect¡ªby adding the stipulation to not put Lenora to any ¡®perverse purposes.¡¯ Serving Bessa paid off for Lenora: a full belly, clean warm clothes, and an education worthy of a free woman. She and Bessa enjoyed many profitable ventures, some of which Lenora came up with on her own. Bessa released Lenora. As she turned to leave, a thought stopped her. Yes, the girls would have an escort to the school. But...Papa¡¯s aegis weighed against her heart. His protection, wrought by his closest friend. Carefully, she removed it, making sure the cover was closed. ¡°Girls, attend me: this aegis is the eye of the catoblepus. Aim it at an enemy, uncovered, and the enemy will fall dead. Edana¡¯s father made this, to protect my father in battle,¡± Bessa explained, settling the chain around Pippa¡¯s neck. ¡°Now it will serve to protect you two. Take care of each other, understand?¡± Pippa¡¯s lips quirked. She stood on her toes and kissed Bessa¡¯s cheek. ¡°May the gods be with you, Bessa.¡± Chapter 9: The Campaign Begins IX The Campaign Begins In which Edana names the target and Bessa deals in intrigues Early the next morning, two carriage trains left the Philomelos estate, with Bessa and Edana in one, and Pippa and Lenora in the other. The girls traveled with a large escort, the women with a small one. Furthermore, Edana startled Bessa by appearing in a carriage bearing an imperial seal. When Bessa climbed aboard, Edana explained why. ¡°As far as anyone knows, I¡¯m merely a silver broker and I work for important clients.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that literally true?¡± Bessa asked, settling in amongst the cushions. Edana smiled. ¡°That makes it easy to remember. If I am brought before a truth-seer or an echomancer, they will certify what I say to that effect.¡± ¡°So you have taken them into account.¡± Echomancers could See the past, but truth-seers were her chief concern. An alethomantis, or prophet of truth, belonged to Aletheia, goddess of truth, and could unerringly uncover any deception. A truth-seer such as Lord Pera often worked for the Watches or the courts, and people accused of crimes often had to face them, particularly when physical evidence was shaky. Bessa had wondered how arcanum evaded Aletheia¡¯s servants. Now she knew. ¡°So when you told me to say I¡¯m an innocent victim of an attack by giants¡ª¡± ¡°Right. It¡¯s true. And your plan is sound, in that if you did go before a truth-seer, to explain why we killed the traitor, no part of what you say will raise suspicions. Your actions don¡¯t have to be explained any further, so no echomancer need get involved. Whereas, I am in no position to explain why I know certain things. I cannot get caught or openly make accusations. You are in a position that serves us both well, especially considering your plan.¡± Bessa smiled, pleased that she was immediately useful to Edana. When they entered the town, Edana asked the driver to stop when she caught sight of her old house. Bessa watched as her old friend looked over her former home with a critical eye, noting the changes. Green glass windows still graced the house. Beautiful ironwork filigree covered the windows, lending protection as well as adornment. When Edana lived there the filigree mimicked floral vines. Someone had exchanged them for geometric patterns. A small path led from the main road to the front door, and continued on around the back. The front of the house once led to the Nuriels¡¯ workshop. Most visitors never went beyond that point, but Bessa remembered the grand courtyard paved with gleaming blue and green tile. An artesian well served as the courtyard¡¯s centerpiece; the well¡¯s little geyser fascinated Bessa as a child. The family quarters were on the other side of the courtyard; the girls had played there when they would suffer to be indoors. Until she was two, Bessa lived there as well, before Aunt Sorcha weaned her and returned Bessa to her father. In the years since, Bessa sometimes ate dinner with the Nuriels. Even now she remembered the unusual spices the Nuriels used. ¡°Mama always kept snapdragons in the window boxes,¡± Edana mused. ¡°And we always knew we were almost here when we saw Papa¡¯s canopy on the balcony. They always relaxed there when they finished working for the day. They would wave when they saw us coming.¡± ¡°I remember,¡± Bessa replied, thinking back on those times. She sighed, suddenly overcome with memories. But memories of Aunt Sorcha in her workshop helped her fight off images of Aunt Sorcha torn to pieces by the gryphon. All the same, a tear rolled down her cheek. Pain washed over her, and she reached out to squeeze Edana¡¯s hand. Edana squeezed back. Quietly she said, ¡°I pray every night that the life I live is worth the cost my parents paid to save it.¡± Bessa gasped. ¡°Edana,¡± she ventured. ¡°I don¡¯t know all of Uncle Min¡¯da¡¯s ways. You said his people don¡¯t consult the dead. So I¡¯m not sure he would want you to be weighed down like this. Your parents were good people, and you live up to how they raised you. You do honor them. Cherish what you had with them¡­but live for yourself.¡± Edana wasn¡¯t looking at her. All of her attention was on the house, and Bessa suspected she was hiding her tears. In silence she continued to hold Edana¡¯s hand. Even if she wanted to let go, she couldn¡¯t: Edana¡¯s grip was too fierce. Bessa nodded to herself. Some things didn¡¯t change.
Not until they were well beyond Falcon¡¯s Hollow did Edana reveal their destination. And who they were going to kill. ¡°We¡¯re going further north,¡± Bessa observed. ¡°This is the route I take after every harvest, to visit my mother¡¯s family. They still live in the same place their tribe lived before the Invasion.¡± The Invasion, for Silurans, could only refer to the coming of the imperial legions from Rasena Valentis. Some still spoke of historical events in terms of whether something had happened before or after the empire. ¡°Your grandfather frightened me,¡± Edana said. ¡°I was never sure he liked you, either.¡± Bessa laughed, thinking of how cold and forbidding her maternal grandparents seemed¡ªto outsiders. The Pendry family was part of the old guard, she explained. As such, they were suspicious of Rasena Valentians. For this reason, Aurelia had made sure Bessa could speak Siluran and knew the traditional customs. ¡°My mother¡¯s family would be outraged whenever I spoke in Rasenan, or Pelasgian. With them you are either Siluran or Rasena Valentian. The Terebinthians? Tartessians? Pelasgians? They¡¯re not Siluran; therefore, they¡¯re Rasena Valentians and that¡¯s that. But trust they will be hospitable if we see them.¡± ¡°If you like, we might stop and see them later, depending on what we learn after we reach the duke.¡± Bessa jolted upright. ¡°Duke Gagnon? Him?¡± The rank of duke was given to the prime commander of the legions in an imperial province. In certain instances, the duke was also the governor. There could only be one duke in a nation, and in Silura that meant one Gaius Antonius Gagnon. Edana¡¯s confirmation made ice water form in the pit of Bessa¡¯s stomach. Of course the traitor must be someone high up, a fact Bessa readily accepted. But the duke? In her plans, he was the authority she could appeal to. One thing Bessa made sure to do before leaving was to talk to Pegasus Prime Senovara about security¡ªand why she failed to take Edana¡¯s dispatch more seriously. ¡°An official notice warned us all reports of giants were propaganda, and actions attributed to them were truly the work of rogue mercenary sorcerers. And to spread the word to everyone in our network. ... The notice also ordered us to investigate anyone claiming to know about the giants, and assume they were enemy arcana. Obviously, I was misled." At the time Bessa used the information as leverage to requisition a squad from Senovara¡¯s force, for the security of her vineyard. Quickly, Bessa relayed the conversation to Edana. ¡°Now I have an arrow for my quiver. When I tell what happened to my home, and my workers, people will ask, where was the legion? What¡¯s the army going to do? I will use what Senovara said to stir up everyone against the duke. Are you sure it¡¯s him?¡± ¡°Yes. The enemy mercenaries I spoke of are the Red Daggers. They take the heads and feet of their prey, as trophies. Gagnon pays them in Siluran coin.¡± ¡°How does that matter? Surely our money is used outside of Silura? There¡¯s no law saying we have to change coins at the borders.¡± ¡°Did you forget about the echomancers? One of the Star Dragons employed one as an informant,¡± Edana said. ¡°He asked her to observe three men he thought were Red Daggers. The echomancer owns a warehouse in Solaris, a major port in the Cauldron. When the suspects paid her for storage, she touched their money. That¡¯s when she saw a vision of Duke Gagnon giving the coins to them.¡± The Star Dragon learned the duke went to Sir?nasse last winter, on the pretext of visiting the governor. The Red Daggers the echomancer encountered spoke with Sir?nassan accents. Unfortunately, the Star Dragon was killed shortly after the echomancer¡¯s report. ¡°The Duke Gagnon connection is the best lead we¡¯ve had so far. Tracking his movements is how we¡¯ve managed to find out more about the mercenaries. He¡¯s going to be inspecting the new fortress in the north, at Red Pointe. That¡¯s where we¡¯re going. That¡¯s where we¡¯ll find him.¡± Bessa calculated the amount of time it would take to reach the fortress. She would have to act fast. ¡°You keep saying we,¡± she pointed out. ¡°I asked you once if you were a Star Dragon? Are you?¡± ¡°Think of me as an auxiliary,¡± Edana suggested. ¡°Remember the silver markets of Valentis were intentionally debased, corrupted? Without even knowing it I upset plans cunningly wrought, and Amalu came to investigate. This is why he sought me at Lady Nensela¡¯s house. Not long after I began helping him, Lady Nensela had her vision.¡± And Star Dragons started dying. ¡°Amalu was the first to die. As a venator, a huntsman, he belonged to the Sparrowhawk faction. So, he dealt in secrets and intrigues, and fought by stealth and ambushes. Only we were the ones ambushed. When the fight was over the attackers lay dead, and I was unharmed ... because Amalu took the blows meant for me. He used his last breath to name our attackers: the Red Daggers. I owe them.¡± Bessa shivered at her tone. ¡°But why rely on you for this?¡± ¡°The Red Daggers have done a new thing in this world: they can track Star Dragons. But I am an outsider, and I was convinced your family could be the duke¡¯s next target. So I insisted I be the one to trap the duke. After all, I can travel as myself, a known silver broker. The imperial seal on this carriage gives me protection; it opens doors, grants me official assistance, and loosens tongues. All in plain sight, without arousing suspicion.¡± ¡°Excellent cover,¡± Bessa conceded. Glancing about, she spotted Edana¡¯s scroll case on the seat next to her. Instead of leather hers was burnished silver, and engraved with twining vines of roses. Bessa¡¯s lips curved. Edana had spared no effort highlighting her identity as a purveyor of elegant silver goods. No one should suspect she was anything more than what she claimed to be. The case protected a road map, which Bessa studied. The map listed every tavern, hostel, and inn along their route, and Bessa pointed them out to Edana. ¡°We¡¯re stopping at all of them,¡± she said. ¡°What? Why?¡± Bessa smiled. ¡°Our campaign against the duke starts with a round of beer.¡±
At each stop, Bessa told her story. The topic of giants did not require embellishment, she discovered. Her routine began with establishing the presence of traveling merchants in her audience, by introducing Edana as one. Edana in turn would ask her fellow merchants if they¡¯d heard the reports of the giants, as she had on her way to Silura. This question never failed to pique the interest of everyone in the room. Edana always emphasized that the giants were attacking unarmed farmers, according to what she ¡®heard.¡¯ Then Bessa would take over, and dramatically recount the night of the giants¡¯ raid on her vineyard. The capstone always involved Edana demonstrating the lightning weapon, which never failed to astonish and unnerve the crowd. As Bessa predicted, everyone immediately thought of the legions posted throughout Silura, particularly the battle sorcerers. Seizing on this, she hinted someone was deceiving the army, and repeated the excuse Pegasus Prime Senovara made to her. Next she passed along Edana¡¯s advice about forming a mutual defense pact with neighbors. If the authorities couldn¡¯t find their backsides with a map and a glowlight, then at least the common people could depend on each other. Bessa also shamelessly pronounced Duke Gagnon¡¯s name with an exaggerated Sir?nassan accent: Gognonnn. This never failed to ignite a round of grievances over the fact that outsiders ruled Silura. Indeed, the others groused, how could they possibly expect the duke to care about Silura¡¯s safety and security? The damned foreigner was surely just passing another marker on his climb to the top, and didn¡¯t care about Silurans at all. That was probably the real reason for the army¡¯s confusion. This last comment spurred Bessa to take her story to the villas she encountered as well. Anyone who owned a villa ¡®knew people,¡¯ possibly afforded an oraculum in the house, and held entertainments. Hour by hour Bessa and Edana carefully seeded, then nurtured suspicion of the duke. But always, at every turn, Bessa went out of her way to visit any establishment where her family¡¯s wine would be sold. Every drink menu included her family¡¯s name, which she was certain would bolster the credibility of anyone who repeated her story. ¡°This is likely to reach the duke¡¯s ears before we do,¡± Edana remarked, in their room at an imperial inn where they finally stopped for the night. Since leaving Falcon¡¯s Hollow they had traveled well over forty miles, and still must travel two more days before arriving at Red Pointe. Three if they took into account their stops to sow suspicion against the duke. ¡°Can he do anything about it? Gagnon will probably dismiss what he hears at first. He shouldn¡¯t realize what we¡¯re doing to him until it¡¯s too late.¡± Edana yawned, then began to stretch the kinks out of her back. She looked at Bessa through half-closed eyes as she reclined on her bed. They had a room to themselves, on the second floor of the inn, and upwind from the donkeys, oxen, and horses in the courtyard. Fragrant night-blooming flowers adorned the trellises outside the window, which sufficed to keep out any unpleasant scents. Because their lodging was an imperial inn the women enjoyed several perks, including glowlights for their room instead of oil lamps. Instead of cots they would sleep on beds. In fact, the room came with four beds, two of which flanked the lone window. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Bessa initially thought they should have chosen a smaller room. That is, until Edana dragged one of the spare beds across the door, a bar against intruders. Underscoring for Bessa the danger they faced, and disquieted her for a while. Fortunately ¡ª and Bessa thanked the gods for this ¡ª Lady Nensela sent her battle-trained slaves to accompany Edana. In a heartbeat they could drop their soup ladles and scrub brushes and take up their weapons. As it was nighttime, those not on duty slept in the adjoining rooms, while four on duty guarded the corridor. Trusting the door was secure, Bessa occasionally checked the window via the mirror on the vanity where she sat. She opened an enameled jar of cream, sniffing it first to ensure it was still good before rubbing it vigorously on her face. The cream, one part beeswax to three or four parts olive oil, with generous dollops of rose water, produced a nice cooling sensation on her skin. ¡°Let¡¯s not assume he¡¯s stupid,¡± Edana warned. ¡°As a rule I assume everyone I deal with is my superior in wit and experience, until they prove otherwise. We will be dead very quickly if our plans depend on Gagnon being incompetent.¡± Bessa laughed. ¡°Fair enough. So, if he does work out what we¡¯re up to?¡± ¡°Hm. We don¡¯t know why he wants to betray the empire, so let¡¯s start with the idea he has something to gain from the success of the giants. In his place, what would you do about the setback in your plans? And make no mistake, your survival is a setback.¡± ¡°In what way?¡± Edana began to count off on her fingers. ¡°One, you and your family are supposed to be dead, and Gagnon was supposed to control the story. The bulletin sent to Senovara, claiming rogue sorcerers were at work? All dispatches come from Duke Gagnon. Two, observe that once Senovara knew foreign enemies were in Falcon¡¯s Hollow, she put the whole country on alert. Exactly what Gagnon didn¡¯t want. The Star Dragons don¡¯t know the duke¡¯s schedule, but we all suspect he didn¡¯t intend for everyone to know about the giants until the hour that suited him best.¡± ¡°And now?¡± Through the mirror, Bessa caught Edana¡¯s roguish smile. ¡°Hopefully he dances to our tune. Senovara said she¡¯d never seen anything like the lightning shooter. If you were killed, she would have suspected a khrestai or a sylph on account of the lightning. When the soldiers brag about their battle, you think they won¡¯t emphasize they faced strange weapons that bore the power of a Primordial?¡± Bessa grinned. The giants¡¯ weapons made it impossible to keep blaming rogue sorcerers. They were undeniable proof of a foreign enemy none had ever faced before. ¡°The duke is in a corner now,¡± Edana predicted. ¡°The Star Dragons think he meant to misdirect everyone to look to a familiar enemy, such as the Furi.¡± In silence Bessa pondered this as she cleaned off her face with a warm wet towel. ¡°So the¡­what should we call the weapons? Thunder maces. So they are unusual. And no one doubts our story after we demonstrate them.¡± But she was less sure about the duke¡¯s reaction. Fleeing was not an option; certainly a duke would be too nervy to not stand his ground. Riding out the gossip could be easy enough, he could merely refuse to ¡°dignify such talk with a response.¡± ¡°In his place, I would make a great show of increasing patrols, or asking for more legions,¡± Bessa said. ¡°What more would he need to do? The important thing for his purposes is to be seen to have ¡®done something.¡¯ A show of force may be all he needs to silence questions. Or so he will think.¡± Edana¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°I congratulate you on your tactic today, of drawing attention to the fact that Duke Gagnon is from Sir?nasse. That angle didn¡¯t occur to me. But I saw its effect on the people we spoke to.¡± Bessa cheerfully pointed out a key reason she targeted the wealthier Silurans. ¡°They¡¯re connected and ambitious. Senovara was the only Siluran senior officer at Falcon¡¯s Hollow, did you notice? If you were ambitious and resentful of ¡®foreign rule,¡¯ wouldn¡¯t you seize the opportunity to stir up everyone about the lack of Silurans in higher posts? I said the duke was even more of a visible target than my family: he can be replaced. There has to be a Siluran here who would recognize the opportunity we¡¯re creating.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t think small,¡± Edana said. ¡°Can we truly hope to overthrow him?¡± ¡°No need; the emperor will do it for us. The duke¡¯s performance, and Silurans demanding self-rule, would give the emperor an excellent excuse to remove the duke, without giving away that we¡¯re on to his faction.¡± After a moment¡¯s hesitation she added, ¡°I can see Senovara getting a promotion out of this. Not to the rank of duke, perhaps, but if she¡¯s clever she can launch herself higher than she is. Everyone¡¯s eyes will be on her as well, and the emperor must also be seen to be doing something.¡± Now for bed. Bessa chose the one across from Edana, and examined it for signs of bed bugs. Satisfied, she settled in. Long after they extinguished the glowlights, Edana lay in bed and considered the possible moves the emperor and the duke could make. She sank into the pillows she¡¯d brought and arranged herself comfortably on her side. Yes, Bessa was probably right, she decided. The more she thought about it, the more she quietly thanked the Great Speaker that she¡¯d brought Bessa with her. Edana could not have hoped for a better fulcrum.
When they reached Two Rivers, Bessa directed the driver to turn at the Great Elm, an ancient tree she always used as a landmark. ¡°Grandfather Pendry is a direct descendant of King Cunobarrus, and in Two Rivers that still means something. Everyone here is part of the tribe he ruled,¡± Bessa said. ¡°He has influence we need.¡± Edana understood. ¡°So this is why you wanted to switch carriages?¡± At the imperial inn, Bessa insisted they trade in their carriage with the imperial seal for one without markings. In this part of Silura, an imperial seal would close doors and cut them off from assistance, she explained. ¡°We¡¯re in old Silura, Edana. Here, you better speak Siluran, so I hope you remember how. For some people here I¡¯m too ¡®foreign,¡¯ especially as ¡®Elisabet Bessa Philomelos¡¯ is not a Siluran name. You have a Siluran first name, but not a Siluran face. This will confuse people.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll leave the details to you, then,¡± Edana replied. ¡°I will follow your lead.¡± Two Rivers was not an ironic name; the tribe, and the capital town, was situated between the Red River and the Dark River. The capital, Belrath, sat atop a hill surrounded by stone walls. The Pendry family lived in the largest house in the capital, on a smaller hill within the walls. It seemed to Bessa that an ocean of sheep separated her from the timber house. She gripped the window ledge and hoped the carriage driver could negotiate through the mass of woolly beasts and the winding path. Soon she spotted one of the little shepherds who worked for her family. The boy watched their progress, and as soon as he recognized Bessa he ran off. When at last the driver came to the small shelter where the Pendry family kept their carts and carriages, Bessa breathed a sigh of relief. As she approached the house, she saw the shepherd had beaten her to the home. Standing tall and strong in the doorway, her grandfather shaded his eyes from the glare of the sun as he spoke to the boy. With his other hand he held his walking stick. So, she had caught him before he left for the day. To her pleasure, the tanned leather boots he tucked his woolen trousers into were the same ones she¡¯d given him on her last visit. ¡°What news?¡± came a feminine voice from inside the timber house. ¡°Morwenna¡¯s girl is here,¡± said her grandfather, who stepped forward now and dismissed the shepherd. Bessa met him half way, bowing her head as he eyed her in curiosity. ¡°What?¡± A woman appeared in the doorway. Like her husband she wore a heather grey tunic, though hers was ankle-length, and embroidered. ¡°Good morning, Granny,¡± Bessa replied. ¡°I am on my way north, and I thought I would stop here to visit you.¡± Grandfather Pendry loomed over her and pulled her into a bear hug. The hairs of his long grey beard brushed against her forehead. As ever, his tunic carried the scent of lanolin. ¡°It is good to see you,¡± he said. Bessa was jolted by her grandmother¡¯s hug from behind. Finding herself wedged between her grandparents, she simply laughed in delight. ¡°I¡¯ve missed you, dearie,¡± said Grandmother Pendry, who spun her around and kissed her cheeks. She embraced Bessa in a proper hug. Eventually, Bessa¡¯s grandparents released her and looked her over, their gazes soft and welcoming. Edana watched as they fawned over their granddaughter. To her surprise, the Pendrys no longer frightened her. Perhaps it was because she was now tall enough to stand eye to eye with them, which her time in Kyanopolis told her was a true feat where Silurans were concerned. Not only that, but she glimpsed in Grandmother Pendry what Bessa would look like as an old woman. The women shared the same facial structure, and their resemblance seemed more pronounced when they smiled. Perhaps also it was because she could more readily see their affection for Bessa, even as the grandmother tugged at and tsked over Bessa¡¯s chiton, carmine red for mourning, with a golden shawl draped over it. Gold represented faith that the Ever Bright guided one¡¯s dead to paradise. ¡°Red and gold? So it¡¯s true, the stories we¡¯ve been hearing?¡± Grandmother Pendry asked. ¡°Let her come inside first, Gwen,¡± said Grandfather Pendry. He did a double take when Edana exited the carriage. ¡°This is my old friend, Edana,¡± Bessa said quickly. ¡°Do you remember her? Let¡¯s go inside. I have so much to tell you.¡± Inside, Bessa¡¯s grandmother fussed over them as she ordered her servants to set out bread, aged cheese from their sheep, and mugs of mead. Looking around, Edana noticed the Pendrys favored cherry wood for their furniture; including the table and chairs where they sat now. All bore carvings in the intricate patterns Silurans were known for, and ironwork filigree embellished their chair backs. The degree of metalwork on display gave Edana a sudden insight into why her father had remained so long in a land so far from his own: no silversmith could feel a stranger in this country. The Pendrys covered their walls in tapestries, with designs of interlacing vines that she understood to be tribal markings. Foxes dominated the motifs, summoning a memory of Bessa returning from a visit one year wearing a cloak lined with snow fox fur. The Pendrys glanced curiously at Edana from time to time, and Grandfather Pendry ventured to ask where she was from. ¡°I was born in Falcon¡¯s Hollow, and grew up there with Bessa,¡± she replied, and managed not to show her amusement. She knew he wanted to ask, but where are you really from? She got that a lot. In Silura her accent marked her as a native, but she looked an obvious foreigner. In Kyanopolis amongst her father¡¯s people, the exact opposite obtained. He didn¡¯t have a chance to pursue the matter because Grandmother Pendry asked his assistance in setting up. Once Grandmother Pendry settled in across from them, and next to her husband, Bessa began to recount her tale of giants. Pointedly, she added that Edana saved her from them. Now they eyed Edana with interest, and Edana smiled enigmatically in response. Bellicose queens were part of the old ways, Edana knew, and she suspected Bessa wanted them to think of that as well. At any rate, the Pendrys quickly warmed to her now that they knew she was responsible for Bessa¡¯s continued existence. ¡°The giants are rampaging across the empire. Gather your neighbors, and everyone in this village. The giants aren¡¯t finished; from what Edana told me this is exactly the type of place they like to attack.¡± Grandfather Pendry reached across the table, and his strong hand engulfed her own as he held it. ¡°You needn¡¯t worry about us, dear. We know how to defend ourselves here. Even the Furi everyone likes to go on about never got past our line.¡± He jerked his head to a shelf behind himself, and Edana noticed for the first time the gold-plated skulls lining it. She remembered then the gold skull Aurelia Philomelos had kept in her library, from the Furi chieftan she and Nikolaos Philomelos once battled. Grandfather Pendry owned six more, and she wondered how often he drank from them. Or if he enslaved any of the souls of the former owners via the infamous and forbidden arts of Siluran death priests. ¡°The Furi didn¡¯t have lightning weapons,¡± Bessa pointed out. ¡°I¡¯m serious, Granddad. You need weapons that penetrate thick metal armor¡ªat a distance. Have your sorcerers work on a defense against lightning, and practice immobilization spells. The only way to kill a giant is to behead it. And that means getting close enough for it to kill you. Please, promise me you¡¯ll take this seriously.¡± Her voice rose a little, underscoring her concern. Grandmother Pendry took Bessa¡¯s free hand. ¡°You can count on that, my dear. Two Rivers will be prepared to face these creatures.¡± ¡°Good. And, if I may ask, do you trust your Watch?¡± A delicate question, Edana realized. It occurred to her that the people of old Silura would not lightly tolerate the presence of the imperial army. She had heard that they policed their own whenever possible, and suffered the interference of the empire only when they absolutely had to. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Grandfather Pendry asked, releasing her hand. A pause. Lowering her voice, Bessa explained what Senovara had told her. ¡°I think she was deliberately misinformed.¡± Grandfather Pendry snorted, and crossed his arms across his broad chest. ¡°What did she expect? That they would deal fairly with one of us? Why was she even foolish enough to enter their army?¡± At this point, Edana spoke up. ¡°My father¡¯s people would likely agree with you. My father was conscripted into the legion. None of his people ever volunteered to join, and their people were conquered into the empire long before Silura. They still want out.¡± The Pendrys stared at her. ¡°Nevertheless,¡± Edana continued, ¡°people must be protected from those who would harm them. And I think you get better protection when the guards are one of your own. Like it or not, Rasena Valentis has outposts all over Silura. It is wise to seed Silurans in those outposts, to ensure that our interests are protected.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Bessa agreed. She leaned forward, nailing them to the spot with her gaze. ¡°And you can¡¯t have it both ways. If we don¡¯t trust the Rasena Valentians to safeguard our interests, then we can¡¯t sit it out in their army and government. We need to make sure we have a say in running Silura, not just our own villages. The problem isn¡¯t that Senovara is in the Watch. The problem is that there aren¡¯t more of her. We need more Silurans in the Watches, and that¡¯s just to start.¡± The Pendrys exchanged bemused glances with each other. ¡°What makes you think she was misinformed on purpose?¡± Grandmother Pendry asked. Carefully, Bessa outlined their suspicions of a shadow group sowing confusion to aid the giants in their attacks on the farmers. ¡°I want to make it clear to your Watch, and all around here, that they need to start believing that giants are in Silura. Thoroughly question any report that claims otherwise. All of you need to be on your guard.¡± And now that set them to thinking, Edana saw. Their general outlook had them seeing every situation as Silura versus Rasena Valentis. Now Bessa had introduced to them the radical idea that to other people, they were Rasena Valentians, and just as much a target on those grounds as anyone actually from the nations of Rasena and Valentis. Would it occur to them that they needed to stand shoulder to shoulder not only with their own tribe, their own village, their own country, but with every other nation in the empire as well?
Bessa knew she¡¯d achieved success when Grandfather Pendry stood up and put his boots on. ¡°Come, girls. You, too, Gwen.¡± ¡°Where are you going, Feargus?¡± Grandmother Pendry asked, rising from her seat. ¡°To alert the council. Everyone needs to be prepared.¡± Grandfather Pendry blew the great horn in the village square. When everyone assembled he had Bessa repeat her story about the attack. The villagers were riveted, and gasped when Edana demonstrated the thunder mace. Grandfather Pendry took over. Quickly, he organized a watch, and decreed that all patrols must include sorcerers. He repeated Bessa¡¯s suggestions for new armor and weaponry. ¡°And if at all possible, I want a way to take the head from a distance,¡± he added. ¡°The giants are intelligent,¡± Edana warned. ¡°They can speak Rasenan. They might speak Siluran, too. So be careful of commands you give in their presence.¡± ¡°None of you better shout ¡®step over here so the giant can fall into the trap,¡¯¡± Grandfather Pendry said dryly, eliciting laughter from the villagers. The joke eased the tension in the air, and Edana wondered if Bessa acquired her talent for working a crowd from him. ¡°Why must you go north?¡± Grandmother Pendry asked Bessa later, when they were preparing to set off again. Grandmother Pendry was packing a wicker basket for them. Nestled in a soft napkin were a cheese wheel and bread. Next she added minced mutton pies, with their double crusts. Small wicker caskets held little cakes, with one casket containing cheesecakes glazed with honey. Cakes made with elderflower cordial filled the other casket. She placed the caskets in the greater basket. Last, she added a stoppered jug of mead. ¡°I can¡¯t explain everything, Granny. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Grandmother Pendry looked up sharply at her. ¡°This is related to the attack, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°When I can I¡¯ll tell you more, but right now I can¡¯t. I just needed to be sure that you would be safe.¡± Deliberately, Bessa had omitted from her stories that the giants specifically sought to destroy her father¡¯s family. It would raise questions she couldn¡¯t answer. Grandmother Pendry¡¯s nostrils flared, but she only said, ¡°I want you to be safe, too. You and that girl don¡¯t have enough guards. Even if she has that magnificent weapon.¡± The sudden entrance of Grandfather Pendry¡¯s cut off Bessa¡¯s reply. He carried a plain box of orichalcum, and presented it to her. ¡°Granddad?¡± ¡°This is a bit of old Siluran magic,¡± he said, opening the box. Light glinted from a simple amber cabochon set in a small gold starburst. ¡°Sorcha¡¯s Tear!¡± Grandmother Pendry gasped. With a start, Bessa clasped her heart. How many stories had she heard of King Cunobarrus using the scrying stone for search and destroy missions of his own? But she just assumed it had been buried with him, or lost. ¡°In High Siluran you name your enemy. The stone will guide you to him, without fail.¡± Bessa started to speak, and again Grandfather Pendry interrupted. ¡°I am not a fool,¡± he said sternly. ¡°If these giants mean to invade, then they will need to eliminate everyone who could fight back, and anyone who would lead them. And while I have my differences with Aurelia, I know she is a leader. She¡¯s a target. And that means you¡¯re a target. And likely I am, too. But as you are my flesh and blood, I know that you are not about to let this attack go unanswered. Good hunting to you, my granddaughter.¡± Chapter 10: Race to Red Pointe X Race to Red Pointe In which they find an unexpected ally Bessa and Edana knew their plan was working when people began to ask about the attack on the vineyard as soon as they heard Bessa¡¯s name. Soon enough the pair were recognized before they spoke at all. Some of those who stopped them cited Grandmother Pendry as their source for news. Bessa shook her head, amused at herself. After all, her plan had been to exploit her grandparents¡¯ status as tribal chieftains to spread the truth about the giants. However, they had operated more as her grandparents. Didn¡¯t Grandmother Pendry say she was worried Bessa hadn¡¯t brought enough guards? She had spread the word that Bessa and Edana were to be looked after. Every so often, a farmer would hail them and offer food and refreshment, or a game hunter would pace them on the open road, especially as night neared. And then the carriage stopped. Edana bolted upright. She had been dozing at the scenery, but the neigh alerted her. Oxen pulled their carriage, not horses. Bessa whispered, ¡°What do we do?¡± Belted at her waist, Edana¡¯s peplos gown bloused over her thighs, giving her a convenient way to conceal her knives. In silence she positioned one hand beneath the overhang, and over her knife. The driver called out, ¡°Optima Nuriel? Optima Philomelos?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Edana answered, her voice clipped. A lordly voice responded, ¡°We must talk.¡± The women exchanged a glance. Bessa started to rise, but Edana stopped her with a gesture. Instead, Edana gripped the handle of the carriage door and called out, ¡°Who is asking?¡± ¡°Draco Aether Decimus Saavedra. I¡¯ve been waiting for you. Come.¡±
The aether sat across from them in the carriage. General of the legion controlling nearby Casterbridge and the surrounding region, Saavedra was a man of great presence. The carriage seemed quite a bit smaller for him being in it. ¡°I¡¯ve read Senovara¡¯s reports,¡± Saavedra said. ¡°She is greatly renowned in Tartessia, where I am from. She is a formidable sorceress; a Siluran in her position would have to be. Her report, and that of Centurion Makris, has stirred up a hornet¡¯s nest. And I see you poking it with a nice, sharp stick.¡± No reaction from Edana, who outwardly displayed a statue-like stillness Bessa coveted. Her own lashes fluttered as she weighed her words. Saavedra smiled and dipped his head. ¡°Obviously you¡¯re on your way to see the duke. I consider it my duty to act as your escort, seeing as yours is so carelessly light.¡± Bessa blurted, ¡°That¡¯s not necessary. This territory belongs to my mother¡¯s tribe. No one would dare to strike us here. Besides, the closer we get to Red Pointe, the more soldiers we expect to see. Attacking us simply wouldn¡¯t be practical.¡± ¡°Consider me your honor guard, then.¡± In a careful, neutral tone Edana asked, ¡°Is it wise to leave your post when there are giants about?¡± Saavedra waved it away. ¡°Let me assure you I have excellent centurions. Be at ease, Optima Nuriel. I am most eager to obtain a straight answer about these giants. There are defenses to prepare, and offenses if possible, and the first thing is making sure we¡¯re all aware of what needs doing.¡± ¡°I see,¡± Edana said. Saavedra drove a fast pace, taking only a squad with him, forming an honor guard as he said. Just once, Bessa glimpsed a Siluran watching them from a bluff as they passed. From the checked pattern of her clothes, Bessa recognized her as part of her mother¡¯s tribe. This was a scout, one of the many her grandparents appointed to look out for her. That scout was the only one she saw, but if the scouts kept to the old ways it was the only one she would see. Nightfall came, and two hours later they arrived at Red Pointe. The fortress stood on a promontory looming over the shores of the Red River. The fast-moving river served as a moat, with the fortress walls just beyond. Two watch towers flanked the gate beyond the wall, which had more towers placed at strategic intervals. A narrow bridge led into the fortress, but a horn sounded before they set foot on it. A watch commander met them at the gate; he appeared to have expected them. He and Saavedra spoke in low, urgent tones, defying all attempts to eavesdrop. At last he let them inside the walls of the fortress, and no one impeded them further. The group dismounted on the main road inside the fortress, which led straight to the headquarters. On either side of them stood the long rows of barracks housing the soldiers, who swarmed about as they shifted from first to second watch. The gates shut behind them with a resounding clang, locking them inside the fortress. Edana tensed. A group of soldiers brought them to the praetorium, a tall building in the center of the camp. Typical for the headquarters of a fortress, the praetorium stood at the end of a courtyard surrounded by a colonnade housing the various offices and store rooms of the fortress. Bessa judged the layout similar enough to the Watch back home, but on a far grander scale. However, unlike the Watch in Falcon¡¯s Hollow, all of the buildings at Red Pointe were stone. In the glowlights they shone with the same red as the walls of the fortress. Edana tapped Bessa¡¯s arm, and inclined her head to their left. At first glance Bessa saw only a small fleet of fire drakes, juvenile dragons, tethered to posts at the far left of the courtyard. And so what? The fortress was commanded by a draco aether, so there ought to be fire dragons. All men of the dragon class were entitled to them, and none less than that were permitted the rank of draco aether. Then Bessa saw her. Surrounded by an honor guard of six soldiers sporting gleaming metal, plumed helmets and dragon masks, a woman strode across the courtyard. Straight for them. Head and shoulders above most of her guards, the woman was taller than even Edana. Unusual, but not very, and Bessa started to relax when the woman turned their way. Salamandra! In the flesh, not in the drawings by a naturalist Bessa once studied. The Salamandra preferred desert climates, said the naturalist, and couldn¡¯t bear cooler weather. What then, was this one doing in Silura at all, let alone northern Silura? Bessa slowed her steps, the better to take her in. Carefully, she noted the similarities between the Salamandran woman and any human woman. With her long, graceful strides, the silk folds of the Salamandran¡¯s flame-yellow chiton revealed a lithe, well-proportioned figure. Hair flowed from her head, coal dark and swirled in a knot, bound with a band of pearls. A circlet of gold filigree adorned her brow, sitting just above a column of spikes down the center of her forehead. At first Bessa focused only on the spikes, and only after a few heartbeats did she notice the creamy white jade in the center of the circlet. Her heart began to pound. A truth-seer.
Because she was determined to keep Bessa from danger, Edana did not include Bessa in her talk with Senovara. At the Falcon¡¯s Hollow shore fort, Edana intercepted Senovara before she reached the banquet hall where Bessa and the others awaited news of the battle. Before Bessa had proposed her own plan to bring down Duke Gagnon, Edana had been obliged to work her original one. Which meant asking Senovara certain pointed questions. ¡°Is it normal for the duke to warn against mere brigands?¡± The question brought Senovara up short, and she frowned. No one would overhear them, for Edana ensured their privacy by holding her interrogation in the room Centurion Ajax Makris reserved for briefing sessions with his officers. ¡°No,¡± she said after a while. ¡°Nor the consul.¡± ¡°The consul?¡± If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Senovara¡¯s frown deepened. Her amber eyes flashed, and Edana waited, watching the wheels turn. Finally Senovara said, ¡°The notice bore the seals of the Consul of War and the Duke of Silura. And no, they would not tell us about ordinary criminal activity. Especially not the Consul of War. But the duke¡¯s seal is merely a formality, because we don¡¯t receive anything that hasn¡¯t come through him or from him.¡± Oh? Silently Edana considered: Undoubtedly, Duke Gagnon would claim his seal was stolen to send Senovara a fraudulent report. Surely he had well prepared the ground for that lie, with an unimpeachable source to validate his claim. If called to account, he could introduce the idea of an arcanum hidden in the ranks of the imperial army, and lay his own actions at the feet of the officers most likely to fight the giants. He would engineer a crippling outcome for Silura, if not Rasena Valentis. Unless Edana stopped him. ¡°I trust there¡¯s a reason it seemed plausible the duke and consul would inform you of these supposed criminals?¡± To keep Senovara talking Edana would need to give her an out, and she hoped her question would serve as one. But more importantly, Edana wanted Senovara to provide her with bullets for her sling. Which she did. ¡°Criminals who cross borders and grow more and more violent with each attack would spark our interest in and of itself. Add in that their work is attributed to beings that don¡¯t exist in any nation of Rasena Valentis and we¡¯d get downright attentive. However, the tactics I used against the giants were what I originally planned for dealing with the sorcerers I thought you were really warning about.¡± Edana¡¯s lips quirked at that last. Duke Gagnon had outsmarted himself; his plan depended on Senovara being completely unprepared. However, Edana needed for Senovara to consider the possibility of a traitor, and conduct her own hunt. ¡°But why not believe there really are giants? I told you the Seeker¡¯s Own were among those reporting the giants¡¯ attacks. Why was that not enough?¡± Senovara shook her head. ¡°Prophets can only tell us what they See, not necessarily what is true. In the missive, the claim was that sorcerers used either an illusion to appear as giants, or a spell to induce that hallucination. Certainly the seers ought to have said they saw giants. They were meant to.¡± Ah. Never had she heard prophets could be tricked in such a fashion; such could not be done to an alethomantis because they saw through illusions. And now she understood why Senovara had doubted her: she had been primed with a lie more plausible than the truth. ¡°And if you never learned of the giants¡ªif Morivassus Philomelos had never reached you¡ªwhat would you have done?¡± For a long while the sorceress stared at Edana, but Edana met her gaze calmly, without heat. Backing down was not an option. So long as her cover sufficed, she would not reveal she was working with the Star Dragons, either. In Senovara¡¯s eyes Edana should seem nothing more than a highly connected businesswoman. Or so Edana gambled, and along those lines she hoped Senovara would assume she was speaking for the benefit of any social or political luminary Edana would chance to talk to about the situation. Certainly she would expect Edana to repeat the conversation for Bessa and Matrona Aurelia; her connection to them accounted for her interest in the matter. Edana¡¯s questioning her should pass scrutiny. ¡°Investigated,¡± Senovra said at last. ¡°The giants¡¯ kills could pass as a sorcerer¡¯s kill. To the untrained eye. However, even I would have been misdirected by the lightning.¡± Edana kept her tone as conversational as possible. ¡°Misdirected? How?¡± ¡°Young lady, there is no such thing as a sorcerer who can wield the powers of a sylph or a khrestai. Lightning is their specialty. Once I determined that lightning killed the Philomelos family, I would have prayed that somehow they angered the khrestai, and were punished. Because the alternative would have been too frightening.¡± ¡°The alternative?¡± Why would the khrestai be a comforting option? Only once had she set eyes on one of that race, when she and Bessa were playing in the fens. Open-hearted, the girls thought nothing of greeting what they thought was a traveler who was passing them by. Slight of build, he passed for human at a distance. Then they came close enough to feel the power radiating off of him. Intuition told them he was one of the preternatural servants of the dryads, the wardens of the wilds. They could only stare when he returned their greeting. Awed, they watched him vanish when he overtook them by ten steps. To her surprise, Senovara vigorously rubbed her upper arms, as if chilled. ¡°That a second Scouring had begun. That the khrestai have decided once again that we needed culling, as punishment for our sins. You threaten such to ensure the faithful take part in the festivals of Repentance and Atonement. Be good, be sorry, keep the khrestai away, that sort of thing. But there were multiple warnings before the first Scouring, and we all pray the khrestai wouldn¡¯t start a second one without warning. Especially since sorcerers were the primary targets last time. But those were Oathbreakers.¡± Ah. While her father¡¯s people also celebrated a festival of atonement, the khrestai were not a factor there. Only the laws of the Sower mattered, and sorcerers operated outside of that law. All the same, Edana never before paid close attention to the role the khrestai played in the Scouring. But now she saw how someone could manipulate the knowledge of that history. Senovara¡¯s lips quivered in the ghost of a smile. Sobering she added, ¡°But as for how the vinedressers were killed, I believe anyone other than a sorcerer would have assumed a sorcerer had done it. For myself, in order to believe that, I would first have to know how any sorcerer acquired such power. Without breaking the Oath.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you take power from the Huntress or Restorer and so on? And the Oathbreakers take them from fellshades?¡± ¡°Of course. And spirits. But the khrestai are known to become very¡­attentive¡­when you wield power they believe should belong only to them. Trust me when I say they can find anyone they wish to find. The lorekeepers insist no spirit, not even a fellshade, will protect you from their wrath. The gods withhold from us the powers of the sylphs, khrestai, dryads, naiads or sea dragons; those beings are their children. Allowing us to access Salamandran powers¡ªon a limited scale, mind you¡ªseems to be the only exception, but none know why.¡± Hmm. The duke was not a sorcerer; his plans suggested he didn¡¯t know the sorcerer versus khrestai angle. For Edana his ignorance suggested who wasn¡¯t part of the conspiracy. ¡°Interesting. But now you know lightning can be harnessed, and wielded at will. Or I should say, the giants know this.¡± ¡°Yes. That does bear looking into.¡± Senovara tapped her lips with her finger and frowned again. Once again, Edana watched the wheels turn. ¡°And the missive? About the sorcerers?¡± ¡°That, too. Especially that.¡± Now, Edana stood with Bessa in Red Pointe¡¯s antechamber, awaiting the duke. All during their journey she had prayed her talk with Senovara would bear fruit, and the discussion with Saavedra on their way to Red Pointe gave her hope. The seer¡¯s presence made her downright cheerful, although she maintained a neutral expression. The antechamber was lit up as daylight, thanks to the large glowlights suspended from the ceiling. Wall sculptures in low relief depicted the emperor in historic battles, culminating in the double doors at the other end of the room. Huge and bronze, the doors bore a life-sized engraving of the emperor in his saddle, hurling a spear from the back of Lysimachus, his sea dragon. Looming fierce and rampant, the dragon inspired awe; the emperor himself looked no less fearsome. Between the light bouncing off the doors and the red sandstone floors, the room was bathed in a reddish cast. Edana eyed the seer¡¯s group ahead of them. No ordinary guardsmen for her; their golden, full-face dragon masks and purple cloaks said they could only be the Drakon Guard, elite soldiers charged with guarding the emperor. Before the Fourth Cataclysm the men would have been true dragons, sea dragons shifted to human form. But now, Lysimachus was the rare sea dragon willing to live amongst people. The days when a sea dragon could be compelled to serve others were done now. These guards must be men. Saavedra ushered in Bessa and Edana behind them, and his own soldiers spread out behind him and the women. Before they could go another step, two of the Drakon Guard suddenly turned and crossed spears in front of them, barring the way. Bessa blinked, and seemed poised to speak. Then her face cleared, and Edana suspected she wasremembering the rule about imperial seers: none save the Drakon Guard could go armed in their presence, because imperial seers were the Sight and Voice of the emperor. However, this seer was a living weapon, by virtue of being a Salamandran. By definition she was the most dangerous person in the room. Why did she insist on a formality that had no meaning in her case? As it was, Saavedra and his men could not go further so long as they were armed. The seer outranked him in authority. Suddenly, the doors to the antechamber swung open. A flash of gold hurtled towards them, and a voice boomed out. ¡°Lady Aelia, Aether Saavedra, thank you both for coming. It is an honor to have you here. My lady, I am Draco Aether Ritter Roswald, at your service.¡± Like Saavedra, Roswald wore red leather and golden armor, the livery of an aether. At this volume, he spoke with a pronounced accent that revealed he was from Helisius, a country not far from the Cloudwalk Mountains in the northeastern part of the empire. He nodded at Saavedra, but bowed his head to Lady Aelia. Unlike Saavedra, Edana noted, he was conveniently unarmed. Clearly, he expected the seer. And Saavedra himself remained calm, showing no surprise at Lady Aelia¡¯s presence. Bessa glanced at Edana, a question in her eyes. Wait, Edana mouthed, maintaining her serene expression. Bessa frowned in obvious irritation, but folded her arms and adapted an expectant stance. Lady Aelia turned from Roswald to face them. She raised her chin to Saavedra and he slipped his scabbard from his belt, handing it to one of his men. This time when he stepped forward, the honor guards snapped their spears straight, allowing him to pass between them to stand before Lady Aelia. Bessa and Edana followed. It did not escape their attention that now the Drakon Guard encircled them as well. Lady Aelia focused on the women. Her eyes were the same topaz as the stone in Bessa¡¯s pledge ring. They were also large, and the way light glinted from them made Edana think of Lady Nensela¡¯s watch-cats, whose sight remained keen even in the dark of night. Like a cat, Lady Aelia rarely blinked. A small shudder rippled through Bessa¡¯s body, and Edana couldn¡¯t blame her. The effect of Lady Aelia¡¯s gaze was unnerving. ¡°Draco Aether Saavedra,¡± Lady Aelia began, with an accent both intriguing and strange. ¡°My compliments on bringing Optima Philomelos and Optima Nuriel to Red Pointe unharmed.¡± Saavedra bowed his head to her. ¡°My lady.¡± Now it was Edana¡¯s turn to feel a tremor, though hers was tinged with anticipation. Was the work she and Bessa put in about to bear fruit? The alethomantis stepped forward, close enough for Edana to see the blue vein rising from her clavicle to disappear into her jawline. Her skin was a darker rose gold than Edana¡¯s, and her smooth, unlined face did not help in guessing her age. What little she knew of the Salamandra was that they were long-lived, perhaps immortal like the Ta-Setians. Lady Aelia looked them over, and from one to the other. Was it possible to outrun the reach of her fire, or would one simply die tired if she decided to throw a fireball? Did Salamandra throw fireballs? Lady Aelia looked so elegant Edana pictured her raising an eyebrow and immolating someone with a mere glance. ¡°Optima Philomelos,¡± Lady Aelia began. She waited. ¡°Lady Aelia,¡± Bessa coolly replied. And cleared her throat, betraying her nervousness to Edana, though she was outwardly calm to the eyes and ears of these strangers they stood amongst. Lady Aelia nodded, and turned to Edana. ¡°Optima Nuriel. From the looks on your faces, this night¡¯s events are rather mysterious, I take it?¡± ¡°If you would oblige us?¡± Edana asked. Lady Aelia¡¯s smile came and went like lightning. She leaned forward and lowered her voice, as if exchanging a secret with a close friend. ¡°You have stirred up Silura quite thoroughly. Everyone is asking questions about Duke Gagnon. Everyone is asking about the giants. You clearly know how to make an effective use of your influence. Come. Let us go and visit the duke.¡± Chapter 11: Short, Sharp Daggers XI Short, Sharp Daggers In which Edana investigates Roswald brought them to his strategy room, where his own officers¡ªand Duke Gagnon¡ªwaited. An imperial messenger preceded them into the room, announcing the presence of Lady Aelia. The announcement must have surprised the duke, for his eyes were still wide when Bessa and Edana entered the room behind Lady Aelia¡¯s guards. The guards spread out, to stand in strategic points along the walls. Roswald¡¯s officers were unarmed, just as he was, and Bessa suspected he had arranged it that way on the pretext of honoring the duke. The duke hastily rose, and bowed his head to Lady Aelia. ¡°Lady Aelia. I am Duke Antony Gagnon,¡± he said, his gaze shifting for just a moment to Roswald. ¡°At your service,¡± he belatedly added. One of her guards presented himself next to the duke. His mask made him seem especially forbidding. ¡°Your sword.¡± The duke did a double take, then his eyes narrowed as he took in the fact that he alone violated the protocol. No longer did he sit high enough in the emperor¡¯s council to have forewarning of Lady Aelia¡¯s arrival. And Roswald wished him to know it. Gagnon¡¯s lips thinned. Without a word he unclipped his sword from his belt and handed it to the guard, who strode over to the door and stationed himself there. As the door was the furthest point from the duke, the guard allowed Gagnon no easy way to reclaim his sword. Lady Aelia stepped forward, directly opposite the duke at the far end of the table. She allowed a moment for the other soldiers to take in her presence and regain their composure. Then she adopted a pleasant expression. Salamandra were legendary for the coolness of their temper. However, Bessa suspected every human wondered if the particular Salamandran they were dealing with was ¡®an exception¡¯ who would incinerate them at the slightest provocation. ¡°Good evening,¡± Lady Aelia began. ¡°As Aether Roswald said, I am Lady Aelia. You can plainly see I am a truth-seer and, like the rest of you, a servant of the empire. Let us begin.¡± Briskly, she introduced them all, giving special emphasis to Bessa as ¡°the reason we¡¯re all here.¡± The duke¡¯s eyes flashed and he stared sharply at Bessa, but otherwise he showed no reaction. The soldiers arrayed at the red granite table stared with open curiosity that changed to awe when Lady Aelia had Bessa explain about the giants¡¯ raid on her vineyard. As Bessa expected, Gagnon made haste to make sympathetic noises and offer assurances he would do everything possible to protect Silura. In silky tones he promised ¡°her workers did not die in vain.¡± When Bessa brought up the official notice that misled Senovara he casually dismissed it, offering instead easy promises her family would be well-compensated for their losses. As though she could be bought off. Fortunately, the suspicions she and Edana had sowed now bore fruit: Saavedra brought forth messages from other commanders all over Silura, who had questions of their own regarding what had happened at the Philomelos vineyard. Even better, Saavedra let drop the consensus that Senovara¡¯s battle report was far more troubling than the duke was admitting. Draco Aether Roswald apparently raised the issue before, because he pointedly chimed in that now that they had a third direct, firsthand confirmation of giants, the duke needed to put Silura on high alert. All eyes were on the duke. Because she was watching for it, Bessa saw the flicker of Gagnon¡¯s eyelids, and the briefest tightening of his lips before Lady Aelia stepped in again. With a cool stare Lady Aelia said, ¡°As you see, Lord Gagnon, the matter before you now is of grave importance, not only to the people of Silura, but to the emperor himself. There are so many questions. Questions which must be answered.¡± Bessa suppressed a shudder. Lady Aelia¡¯s tone was familiar to her, for Grandmother used it in negotiations when she knew the other party was trying to cheat her: she had set a trap, and was simply waiting for the screaming to start. ¡°I agree,¡± Duke Gagnon said, bristling slightly, perhaps knocked off balance by Lady Aelia using his civilian title. Taken with her pointed mention of the emperor, Gagnon had to be rapidly reassessing his future in the imperial army. Duke Gagnon cleared his throat. And proceeded to hold them at bay. ¡°The hour grows late,¡± he said, for by now it was nearing midnight. ¡°I believe Aether Roswald¡¯s quarters should accommodate us all. In the morning we can discuss everything. In the meantime, I will look over the documents you have brought to me, Aether Saavedra.¡± Keeping her gaze firmly on Gagnon, Lady Aelia held out a hand to Saavedra. Without missing a beat, Saavedra deposited the parchments in her outstretched hand. She narrowed her glittering eyes at the duke when he, caught off guard, opened his mouth to object. His jaw tightened as she ran her hands over the papers, a reminder that an alethomantis could perceive the truth in what she touched. If the truth-seer certified the documents, then the duke could not gainsay it. Every lie he told would have to be reconciled with what was in those documents. Furthermore, as Lady Aelia appeared intent on keeping them, the duke could not prepare an excuse that would take those documents into account when they held their promised morning talk. As Lady Aelia had affirmed the emperor¡¯s interest, he could not avoid having that talk either. Roswald¡¯s quarters, in a square behind Red Pointe¡¯s headquarters, were the size of a small villa. Inside, two grand courtyards were surrounded by several rooms. A roof covered the first, smaller courtyard, a concession to the home being in Silura. The fountain in the center reminded Bessa of the Nuriel home. However, Roswald¡¯s fountain featured a statue of Ginessa, the legendary sorceress who had summoned the dragons that gave the Sea of Five Dragons its name. Ginessa was also the basis of the caryatids, sculptures of women used as columns, in the colonnade forming the courtyard. The swimming pool in the second courtyard must have made invitations to Roswald¡¯s home particularly coveted. Roswald gave Bessa and Edana separate rooms, side by side, in the second courtyard. Bessa, fearing what the duke might do, would have objected but for the urgent gleam in Edana¡¯s eye when she started to say something. Instead, Bessa thanked the aether, and busied herself overseeing the porters unloading their luggage. The porters suspended three large glowlights from the ceiling in Bessa¡¯s room. Glancing about, she saw enough familiar elements to make her relax slightly. As soon as the porters left Edana entered, shutting the door firmly behind her. ¡°Everyone is still by the pool,¡± Edana said. ¡°Lady Aelia insisted Gagnon walk with her, and her room is across the pool from ours. Help her keep the duke there. Keep talking until you see me come out of my room.¡± ¡°Why? What are you going to do?¡± Edana¡¯s hand slashed the air in an impatient chopping motion. ¡°What I came here to do.¡± ¡°The alethomantis is here,¡± she reminded Edana. ¡°I think you can stand down, the duke is clearly in trouble¡ª¡± ¡°May it be the first of many sorrows for him,¡± Edana cut in. ¡°My mission is not ended; I came here to learn what he knows of the giants: Where they came from, and why they¡¯re here. Who else is helping them? Recall that I did not tell you of the giants because I feared the Red Daggers would come for you. As they came for everyone else who speaks of the giants. ¡®Red Daggers,¡¯ are names without faces for now, but they are the names we do know. Who else is allied with Gagnon? They will not have the advantage of secrecy a second time.¡± Bessa¡¯s eyes flashed. ¡°I wish you good hunting in unveiling that secret. But if Lady Aelia¡ª¡± ¡°Lady Aelia is no threat to us; she¡¯s focused on the duke. To her, we are simply innocents, caught up in intrigues. Look, I will be fine. You are not helping me into my grave, I promise you.¡± Bessa relented, and they exited her room together. Edana went back to her own room as Bessa approached the duke, who was still by the pool, surrounded by the aethers and the truth-seer. Aether Roswald in particular appeared intent on pressing a point. Duke Gagnon spotted Bessa and immediately waved her over. Forcing down her rage, Bessa obeyed him. ¡°Elisabet Bessa Philomelos. Did you not mention coming face to face with a giant? That gives you far more experience with them than I have, I¡¯m afraid. Please tell us what happened.¡± Bessa obliged him. As the resurrecting moon was only half full, she had to rely on glowlights to see, and in their light the silver of the duke¡¯s armor took on a halo. Where the aethers wore red leather with gold-plated armor, the duke wore black leather with silver-plated armor and fittings. The aethers wore red because they rode fire dragons in battle, whereas dukes had the prestige to command a sea drake¡ªat least they did before the Fourth Cataclysm. He bowed his head respectfully, as if she were a woman of great rank. Bessa clasped her hands behind her back, to keep from slapping him. His half-hearted charm offensive could not take away her memory of the screams of terror from her people. Nor of her own race to save her family, or the line of bodies whose former names she had carefully recorded. Calmly she managed to reply, ¡°I¡¯m having a hard time accepting that we¡¯re the only ones aware the giants are here. Edana said she heard about them as she was coming to Silura. Surely the emperor should know this, too?¡± ¡°Certainly he should,¡± Gagnon agreed easily. ¡°So it worries me that none of our legions, none of our arcana have spotted the giants or even seem to be aware of them. Why do only travelers speak of them?¡± ¡°That¡¯s what troubles me as well,¡± Saavedra said. ¡°Not to mention those who insist there are no giants, in spite of witness reports,¡± Lady Aelia noted. A pointed reminder that a faction within the empire was deliberately running interference, to keep Rasena Valentians terrified, confused, and vulnerable. The truth-seer stared straight at the duke. Roswald observed, ¡°These creatures can move about without being seen or heard, and they speak our language. They can disappear into thin air¡ªor at least, their corpses do. They well have the advantage of us.¡± Quickly Bessa said, ¡°Aether, they can be killed. The soldiers in Falcon¡¯s Hollow managed. Was there nothing in the reports to reassure you on this point?¡± Roswald and Saavedra exchanged a look. Right, of course. As far as they knew, she was merely as Edana had said, ¡°an innocent caught up.¡± Likely they expected to protect her from any hint her country was in mortal peril. They would only have sought to reassure her, whereas her speaking to them on equal terms seemed to have thrown them off balance. ¡°Many I spoke to believed my household guards made me invulnerable to attack,¡± she added. ¡°They do not have guards. You see the problem? But this is Silura, and cowering is not how we do things here. I don¡¯t imagine any soldier has trouble relating to that. You must have faced something as dangerous as the giants before. How should we prepare? Duke Gagnon?¡± Her question pinned him to the spot. Out of the corner of her eye she had noticed him edging away the moment the aethers focused on her. The duke cleared his throat. Nervous? Was her question a trap for him? Could Edana could use his words against him? Bessa thought of the empty box she¡¯d brought in her luggage: she had come for the duke¡¯s head. Under her breath she prayed, By the gods, Edana, make it so.
As soon as she returned to her room Edana put on a show for a fortress slave, who had slipped in when Edana had left to go speak to Bessa. Once Edana bustled her out, she locked the door and kicked off her sandals, snow white with gold trim. From her luggage she retrieved plain, raw leather sandals. Off went her finery, tossed carelessly onto the bed. Clad now in her underclothes and moonbow-steel blades, Edana sought a particular item in her luggage. Triumphantly, she pulled from a trunk a long tunic and leather apron, suitable for a maidservant. Yet again her inspection failed to detect the enchantment she knew was woven through it. She put on the clothes, and the plain sandals, and looked at herself in the bronze mirror. Gone were her curves, even her face had taken on sharp angles. The woman staring back at her looked underfed, but nondescript. Edana tugged at a strand of her hair and brought it up to her eyes. A dull orange. But her hand¡ª! She jumped, shocked by the pallidness of her skin. Not the luminous alabaster of her mother¡¯s complexion, but something more sickly. She turned away from the stranger staring at her in the mirror. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. For a moment she lingered over the other items in her trunk. Though amply provisioned to frame the duke, events now unfolded in a way she hadn¡¯t expected. Thanks to Bessa she no longer needed to weight the balance scales against Gagnon. Still, she had better rid herself of the ¡®evidence,¡¯ in case she was obliged to endure a search of her own possessions. Now she stuffed her hair into a cap, then went to the window and listened. No footsteps echoed on the stones outside. The aether¡¯s square was well inside the fortress¡¯ main perimeter, patrolled by the guards, but that didn¡¯t mean there wasn¡¯t a soldier or two patrolling the inner perimeter. Reason enough for wearing as dark a blue as she could get, blending in with the night. From what Edana observed, Red Pointe used the same layout as other fortresses she had visited in the empire. So, the aether¡¯s house was in the center of the senior officers¡¯ quarters. While on the one hand she was in an exposed position, on the other hand her chosen disguise rendered her invisible. She opened the window and hoisted herself out, taking the precaution of using another slipper to hold the window ajar. Treading lightly on the gravel road, she made little sound as she walked, purposeful but not hurried. If a truth-seer saw her, she was done for. She must avoid being noticed. Fortunately, she was alone on the street. Finally she came to the front door again. The sentry only nodded, and Edana strolled through. Her dossier said Roswald had only one child, a baby. Given that he was dragon class, he likely had a nurse who shared a room with the girl. Open doors signaled common rooms, such as the dining room. Edana smiled, relieved when she heard a faint cry coming from the room directly to the left of Ginessa¡¯s fountain in the center of the courtyard. If she were Roswald, she wouldn¡¯t put the duke in a room next to the baby. So, try the closed door directly across, to the right of Ginessa¡¯s fountain. Good guess. Glowlights illuminated the duke¡¯s room, and his bed was turned down in preparation for his return. Be thorough and quick, she reminded herself. First thing, check the window, her only other escape. Yes, it opened readily. Now to get down to business. Bessa had Sorcha¡¯s Tear, but Edana had Lady Nensela. When you catch up to him, look for the asrai. Lady Nensela had not meant she would capture the duke near water. Instead, Edana was to seek the elegant box she now spotted at the foot of the bed. Carved cedar, the box sported a gilt relief of asrai frolicking with the naiads they served. The lid was split at the top, joined in the center with a jade carving of an asrai¡¯s face. Edana pulled a bronze vial from her apron. Small enough to conceal in the palm of her hand, she¡¯d filled it with the tears of an asrai. Memories of her encounter with the creature still made her shudder. To make the asrai cry, she shared her grief over her loss of her parents. The asrai, sympathetic, allowed Edana to collect her tears, but Edana had to take extreme care not to let the creature touch her. Legend had it that any part of her touched by an asrai would remain cold forevermore. Uncertain whether the rule applied to asrai tears as well, Edana carried a pair of elbow-length leather gloves in her second pocket. She pulled them on before she unstopped the vial. Carefully, she poured the tears into the eyes of the carving. Almost instantly the carving, and the circular depression it rested in, began to glow an eerie silver. Immediately she stoppered the vial again, checking twice to make sure the liquid would not escape, and put it back in her apron. The chest opened easily, and Edana looked inside. She paused. She frowned. Inside the chest sat a small, highly polished chrysoprase gemstone, and two scrolls, tightly rolled. Edana focused on the stone, green as the wild apples she and Bessa sometimes found when playing in the woods. The palm-sized stone had an indentation in the center that would fit her thumb. A keystone. Unquestionably a keystone, on every occasion when she saw one they were made of some sort of agate. Her frown deepened when she considered the more pertinent implication of the stone: a sorcerer was involved. Sorcerers did not secure their homes with simple locks. Magic warded their doors, and keystones served the same function as iron keys for everyone else. While dryads and naiads warded their groves or springs when moved to do so, they never created any type of key. Furthermore, it was unlikely those beings had anything to do with the duke or the giants. Now what of the scrolls? Unrolling the first one revealed a star map, which included the phases of the agate moon in the top right corner, and the sun in the top left corner. Edana studied the map. The duke had placed marks and initials, not his own, near certain stars or constellations. For the first time she smiled. Addresses! Sheets of blank parchment and a reed pen lay on the big round table dominating the room. Quickly, Edana took a sheet and furiously wrote her notes. The Reaper¡ªJK The Relentless Seeker¡ªRL Phoenix¡ª* Fifth year of lunar cycle¡ª* Fourth year of eclipse cycle¡ª* And so on. When she was finished, Edana compared her notes to the map, and did the math. For each set of initials there needed to be two further points on the map, because each starburst glyph should represent a part of the address. If this was an address list, not a code. To reach Lady Nensela she¡¯d had to calibrate the oraculus machine to the Huntress, the phoenix, and the crescent cycle of the moon. Five sets of initials, and ten starbursts. So an address list, as she thought. When she unrolled the second scroll, one line caught her eye: Nikandros Bessus Philomelos. Her heart skipped a beat. Why was the duke writing about Uncle Nikandros, and to whom? Hungrily, her eyes roved over the scroll. After a moment she calmed herself and realized she was reading a speech. No, a denunciation. Gagnon began with praise for Bessa¡¯s father, and extolled how brilliantly he¡¯d served the emperor as chief engineer and artificer. How the emperor, Tarkhana, must credit Uncle Nikandros with many tactical victories given his genius for accomplishing marvels that turned the tide of battle. Of the monuments Uncle Nikandros built that honored the emperor. Gagnon even threw in the contributions of Nikolaos Bessus Philomelos as a healer. All very moving, and Edana doubted even Bessa might improve upon it. The Star Dragons were right, Gagnon intended to exploit the destruction of the Philomelos family for his own ends. ¡­And what monument to such a faithful guardian of our empire? His house burned to ash and his family murdered in the night by monsters! From there Gagnon outlined the repeated attacks the giants had made upon Rasena Valentians ¡ª and Tarkhana¡¯s failure to stop them. Of his promotion of incompetent officers, including Centurion Makris and Pegasus Prime Senovara. Confirming Edana¡¯s suspicion that he meant to shift blame to any officer best positioned to defend Silura and the other nations. Next Tarkhana personally came in for cold, measured vitriol, and charges of dereliction of duty in tracking down the giants. Accusations he was distracted with dalliances with women from the decadent east. All charges that would demand an answer from Tarkhana if made in the Dragon¡¯s Den. So Gagnon was aiming to replace Tarkhana. But why? To better carry out his mission, or simply because he thirsted for unearned power? Time to leave. Everything Edana touched went back exactly as she found it, save for the notes she hid in her apron pocket. Once again she checked for footsteps before exiting the window. Back in her own room, she slipped off her disguise and repacked it in the bottom of her trunk. In only a few heartbeats her natural appearance reasserted itself, and she smiled her relief. Now she put on a tunic she reserved for sleeping, and the sea silk shawl fringed with peacock green strands. This she used for modesty. A memory bubbled up of her parents, halting her in her tracks. Her uncle, a man she had never met, once sent a similar shawl to her father, as a present for her mother. Seeing it brought tears to her father¡¯s eyes, and Edana now fleetingly wished the brothers could have reunited. Her mother had adored the gift, marveling at how fine and weightless the sea silk felt compared to any other fabric. Now Edana remembered how the rich gold trimmed in crimson had complimented her mother¡¯s looks. Later she must commission a sea silk shawl for Bessa, as a wedding gift. Now; however, she must concentrate on waging battle. She opened her door ajar, to peek outside. The set of Bessa¡¯s posture revealed how tightly she was wound. Bessa had shown such a determination to destroy the duke that Edana feared she would get too emotional, but by all appearances she hadn¡¯t blown it. The aethers still looked on Bessa with respect and sympathy, and looked engrossed in whatever she was saying. The seer maintained a cool expression. Only the duke seemed out of place to her, with his mouth set in a thin line, and his arms folded almost petulantly. Edana stepped out. The truth-seer spotted her. ¡°Optima Nuriel,¡± she called out. ¡°Your name has come to me several times, both from civilians and from officers such as Pegasus Prime Senovara. Come, tell us what more you know about the giants in Silura.¡± ¡°Rasena Valentis,¡± Edana corrected, as she took her place beside Bessa. Lady Aelia accepted the correction with good grace, giving a lopsided smile she hid behind her hand. That was when Edana noticed her ring, amber in an electrum starburst setting. Ah, so she was also Sorcha¡¯s servant: a scryer, the seers who saw events in the present, no matter how near or distant. Those who served Aletheia often enjoyed moderate talents as scryers; those who served Her twin sister Sorcha could be similarly gifted at truthsay. ¡°Yes, Rasena Valentis. Elisabet Philomelos says you have heard of them in the Cloudwalk, and the Cauldron, among other places. Quite remarkable. We have all heard rumors of giants, of course.¡± ¡°Whereas, I have heard facts,¡± Edana replied. ¡°A seer from the Aerie was there when the giants attacked in the Cloudwalk.She spoke of it to a friend of mine. Giants. Honestly, I must know: how is it that the testimony of a Seeker¡¯s Own is not sufficient to mobilize the legions? I am astonished that the voice of one you say is a goddess is so lightly dismissed.¡± ¡°Indeed, you ought to have been astonished,¡± Lady Aelia agreed. ¡°Yet every testimony is met with adamant insistence that the seers who saw them were mistaken, and there are no giants. Not in Rasena Valentis. Of course, there is no convincing explanation for why the Seeker has given no other prophecy in the days since.¡± With a nod Edana acknowledged the implication. So. At last she was sure of who Lady Aelia sided with. A servant of the empire, indeed. The wheels seemed to be turning in the minds of the aethers as well, she noted. The duke¡¯s jaw bunched. Now to press the point. ¡°May I ask, is the testimony of my friend, and the officers of Falcon¡¯s Hollow enough to rouse the legion? Will Rasena Valentis now be defended? Or is the status quo to continue of one village after another being taken unawares by the giants?¡± Lady Aelia arched an eyebrow, and her lips twitched. ¡°For my part, I will advise the emperor to go forward with his plans,¡± she said. A pointed stare at the duke. ¡°And you, Lord Gagnon?¡± All eyes turned to the duke. Duke Gagnon stood stiffly at attention. ¡°I shall carry out all orders given to me¡­for my part, Silura shall be prepared to face this enemy.¡± He met the eyes of his aethers, who in turn adopted neutral expressions. In their place, Edana would also hide a lack of faith in him. They seemed committed to protecting Silura. ¡°Let us continue this in the morning,¡± the duke went on. ¡°Sleep well. We must leave no stone unturned tomorrow.¡± Lady Aelia turned on a heel and swept away to her room, the sash of her chiton billowing over her shoulder and down her back in the night breeze. The men bid goodnight to the ladies, with Roswald reminding them they could ring for the servants if they needed anything. Alone now, Edana and Bessa hastened to Edana¡¯s room. ¡°Well?¡± Bessa asked when Edana locked the door behind them. ¡°Evil does not sleep, nor shall the duke,¡± Edana said. ¡°Expect him to run to the oraculum.¡± She made a beeline for her trunk. ¡°What can we do about it?¡± ¡°Unfortunately, nothing. To spy on him is impossible with the means I have available. Blast it all, what I would give to know the giants¡¯ addresses!¡± She sighed, and rubbed her forehead. ¡°Thank the Speaker this fortress has its full complement. The giants have worked so hard to avoid military engagements, I have to wonder if they¡¯re strong enough to face our legions.¡± Bessa paused. ¡°You think there will be an attack?¡± Edana rooted around a bit in the trunk, then pulled out the parchment copy of the duke¡¯s star addresses. ¡°Bessa, the scroll case on the table has a star map. Let me show you something.¡± Obliging her, Bessa opened the case and unfurled the star map, which featured the zodiac, eclipse cycles, and the moon with its phases. Edana joined her at the table, and unfolded her parchment with the addresses. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Names. And oraculum contact points, I think. The duke hid this inside a fancy box. I believe these are the call signs for his allies. The giants¡¯ allies.¡± Understanding dawned in Bessa¡¯s eyes. ¡°How will knowing the addresses thwart an attack?¡± ¡°It won¡¯t,¡± Edana replied. ¡°But Lady Nensela needs to know this. She and the Star Dragons can figure out who the initials belong to, they just need to know where to start looking. I want to get this to her in case¡ªin case we don¡¯t survive.¡± A stillness settled over the room. After a moment, Bessa nodded her acceptance. ¡°This can¡¯t be too difficult,¡± she said. ¡°Let¡¯s think about the way the oracula work. Don¡¯t you just pick two points, like an arrowhead, and get the arrow shaft in the middle?¡± ¡°As far as I know. Once we map out the possibilities we¡¯ll see what we have here.¡± Part of the decor in Edana¡¯s room included a miniature armillary sphere made of gold and cobalt. Four legs, styled as spiral columns, supported a flat bronze hoop, which lay horizontally. The hoop, representing the horizon, was incised with all of the directions of the wind. Another, thinner bronze ring vertically intersected the hoop. This represented the meridian. In the center of the hoop and below the meridian sat a cobalt globe, which represented Thuraia, and was engraved with a map of the world as Rasena Valentians knew it. The globe, tilted on a golden arrow which formed the axis, was caged within four golden rings: a small arctic ring near the very top, and a matching antarctic ring near the bottom of the globe. Between, starting below the arctic ring, were the summer solstice, equator, and winter solstice rings. A fifth ring of silver, the zodiac, crossed diagonally from the summer solstice, through the equator, and onto the winter solstice. A lapis phoenix, the emblem of the Restorer, marked the intersection of the summer solstice with the zodiac. Two more emblems marked the zodiac¡¯s crossing of the equator: the green chrysoprase eagle of the Huntress at the spring equinox, and the reddish-brown jasper ox of the Reaper at the autumn equinox. At the final intersection, opposite the Restorer¡¯s, was the winter solstice emblem, a ruby gate and a black onyx snake. The Destroyer held the keys to those gates, which led to the Abyssal Serpent who devoured the souls of the wicked. Edana tapped the arrowhead three times. Suddenly, a midnight blue sphere surrounded them. The sky arced overhead, spangled with silver stars, a blue onyx moon, and a golden sun. After consulting Edana¡¯s notes they used the armillary to manipulate the sun¡¯s position against the zodiac, and the orbits of the moon. Soon they came up with plausible addresses for each name on the list. When they finished Bessa tapped the arrowhead three times, and the sphere vanished. She blinked as her eyes readjusted to the glowlights. ¡°What now? What about all of the families around the fortress?¡± Bessa wondered. ¡°Now we enlist Lady Aelia. Ask her what she Sees. We¡¯ll plan from there.¡± ¡°Wait¡ªwhy should the duke mount an attack? How could he imagine he¡¯d get away with it, with Lady Aelia here?¡± Edana recounted her conversation with Senovara. ¡°She didn¡¯t believe my warning because the duke got to her first. And from what I can tell, the other garrisons don¡¯t talk directly to each other. Everything is reported to, and filtered through, the duke or the consul.¡± ¡°But wouldn¡¯t that make the duke an obvious suspect once the others did find out? So what was supposed to have happened then?¡± ¡°If you¡¯re the duke, you have three options: you can say there¡¯s an enemy arcanum or traitor running interference. You could blame the Consul of War¡­or you can blame the emperor. In his fancy strongbox Gagnon has a speech prepared, about having launched his own ¡®investigation¡¯ of the attack on your vineyard, because he remembered your father¡¯s service. How your family became a fatal example of the emperor¡¯s laxity in tracking down and defeating the giants. And because he put incompetents in place, namely Centurion Makris and Pegasus Prime Senovara, among others. Overall, the duke¡¯s actions, and those of his faction, were supposed to be laid at the feet of the emperor: he, too, can be replaced.¡± Bessa gasped. ¡°Do you think he¡¯ll try again to kill my family? And for what? To be emperor? The emperor is old; he was on the throne when my grandparents were children! A duke worth his salt can arrange an accident. That can¡¯t be the sum total of the duke¡¯s ambitions. This is far too much trouble to overthrow someone who could die at any moment anyway.¡± Despite herself, Edana laughed. ¡°Waiting for the emperor¡¯s death is an excellent plan¡ªif he did nothave Ta-Setian blood. He¡¯s reigned sixty-three years, but Lady Nensela says he only looks about fifty or so. Many of his enemies were born and died in his lifetime. But besides, you¡¯re right, again. Neither I, nor Lady Nensela, nor the Star Dragons believe the giants are here to make the duke emperor. That¡¯s merely the duke¡¯s price for assisting them.¡± ¡°And what? The giants would let him live here and rule while doing no harm to us? Is he stupid? I thought we were going to assume he¡¯s smarter than us.¡± Edana picked up the thunder mace and wrapped it in her shawl, the folds and drape of the silk concealing it from casual observation. ¡°Remember the star addresses, Bessa. There are other people involved. Now let us see the scryer. If my hunch is correct, Duke Gagnon won¡¯t care if she divines his intentions, because she¡¯s not going to survive this night.¡± Chapter 12: Red Rock, Blue Fire XII Red Rock, Blue Fire In which the battle begins Lady Aelia stood in the doorway to her room, speaking in hushed tones to three of her guardsmen. Though Edana quietly opened her door, Lady Aelia looked up sharply at them, confirming Bessa¡¯s suspicion that she had superhuman hearing. In the gloom of night her eyes glowed brightly as she stared at them. Bessa and Edana hurried over to her, and her guards parted to allow them access. ¡°We¡¯re in danger, aren¡¯t we?¡± Edana demanded. Bathed in moonlight, Lady Aelia looked decidedly inhuman as she narrowed her eyes at them. Bessa forced herself to remember not to interpret inhuman as evil; that humans were not the only people. She reminded herself Lady Aelia was on their side. Lady Aelia stepped out of her room, joining them in the courtyard. At a nod from her, one of her guards immediately set off, presumably to carry out whatever orders she had given him. ¡°Walk with me,¡± she said. Pivoting on her heel, she headed for the double doors of the back entrance of Roswald¡¯s home. They stepped outside, onto the gravel street of the senior officers¡¯ quarters. ¡°You are correct,¡± she said, when they rounded the corner on the path now to the headquarters. Bessa swallowed. ¡°The giants?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± An entire town lay on Red Pointe¡¯s doorstep. Rapidly, Bessa calculated how quickly they could be roused. Would it matter if Duke Gagnon knew of it? Would he attempt to thwart any effort to save them? Or were the civilians simply game pieces to him? ¡°What of the townspeople?¡± Bessa asked, moving forward again. ¡°Can we get them inside the fortress in time?¡± ¡°My men have already gone to alert the civilians to come into the fortress. Do not fear for them.¡± The eerie calm in her voice reminded Bessa of how Edana behaved the night when the giants attacked the vineyard. Maybe she ought to interpret the calm as supreme confidence, but Bessa couldn¡¯t bring herself to do so. Images of her workers flashed before her. Had she just engineered a similar fate on the civilians of Red Pointe? Bessa clenched her jaw, hit at once with the realization that she hadn¡¯t given sufficient thought to what the duke would do if cornered. She had planned around Roswald¡¯s potential assistance; she had not expected a Saavedra or a Lady Aelia. Nor did she consider that any of the three must maneuver on uncertain ground: Edana was right, who were the duke¡¯s allies? Ignorance of the answer may have checked their response. Always get the lay of the land, Uncle Min¡¯da had once advised. Now she saw what he meant. Lady Aelia held up a hand, silently quelling the question Bessa started to ask. ¡°You are not dressed for battle, Optima Nuriel,¡± Lady Aelia observed, although she stared straight ahead and did not look at Edana. ¡°I can change if it will make a difference, my lady. We are at your service.¡± Edana glanced up at her, but Lady Aelia betrayed no emotion. ¡°There¡¯s no time,¡± Lady Aelia said softly. Again she exuded a preternatural calm. Could Lady Aelia foresee her own death? Officially, scryers didn¡¯t see the future, only the present. Still, Bessa suspected the scryer would know if her own end had arrived, and if Edana were right, then that time may have come. And possibly not only for her. ¡°Is there anything we can do?¡± Bessa demanded. ¡°He¡¯s not getting away with this. He¡¯s not going to get all those people killed and go his merry way. If you know something we can do to stop him, tell us.¡± Belatedly she cut herself off, remembering suddenly that Lady Aelia was not obliged to take orders from her. ¡°He?¡± Bessa stopped in her tracks, forcing Lady Aelia to stop and turn back as well. With her hands on her hips, she met the seer¡¯s gaze without heat. Or fear. ¡°Let¡¯s not pretend,¡± Bessa said. ¡°You may be a servant of the empire, but the duke is not.¡± Lady Aelia nodded slowly, and stared at Bessa as if seeing her for the first time. ¡°Well played, Elisabet Bessa Philomelos. I took you for a mere victim. So you did not stir up Silura out of simple grievance? This is part of a plan?¡± ¡°Your questions are not reassuring. I am Siluran, and in the old days I could have fielded an army, summoned allies, and put the duke¡¯s head on a stake where it belongs. But now only Rasena Valentian soldiers have that authority, so all I can do is make sure that he has no easy time making prey of my people. I have stirred them up: their eyes are on you.¡± She let that last part hang there, and watched the wheels turn in Lady Aelia¡¯s eyes. Tamping down the bite in her voice she added, ¡°I believe that you are here to trap or thwart Gagnon. If so, our interests are aligned, so long as the result is that Silura will be properly defended. If I have you right, then let us get on with it. If not, then let us part.¡± Lady Aelia drew herself up to the full six feet of her height. ¡°Fair enough, Optima. Roswald has also sent a squad to call in the villagers. I wager we have far less than an hour before the giants arrive. The armory is in the courtyard of the headquarters. I suggest you get what you need, then join me in the tower.¡± Getting into the armory wasn¡¯t a problem, quickly selecting the appropriate armor was. Fortunately, some of the battle sorcerers and priests were women. Edana selected mail shirts for her and Bessa to wear over a subarmalis. Next came leather trousers. Off went their slippers, and on went sturdy boots. Edana tied her shawl about her waist like a sash, partially concealing the Huntress blades she¡¯d strapped to her thighs. The weapons were the next problem. Edana¡¯s knives were for a last resort; neither she nor Bessa wished to get close enough to use them on the giants. A quick investigation revealed a cache of arrows and javelins tipped with moonbow steel, and they claimed those for themselves. Armed with a bow and javelins, Bessa armored her wrists with leather bracers. In her childhood, Uncle Linos took her and Edana and their friends on deer hunts. Hunting was his idea of fulfilling the athletic part of their education. Between his training and the legion¡¯s moonbow steel, Bessa hoped her hits would count. Felling even one giant would honor her uncle ¡­ but Grandfather Pendry would disapprove of her joining forces with Rasena Valentian soldiers. Aurelia¡¯s influence, he¡¯d scoff. Then again, at least Bessa was using their ancestral weapons. ¡°All set, Edana. You have the thunder mace?¡± ¡°Yes. Let¡¯s go.¡± ¡°The duke fled into the tunnels,¡± Lady Aelia reported when they rejoined her. A young woman stood at her side. Though clad similarly to Bessa and Edana, her sunstone Oathtaker brooch distinguished her as a sorceress. She briskly introduced herself as Verena Roswald, the former pegasus prime, and Roswald¡¯s wife. ¡°The tunnels lead into the hills. On the other side is the coast. If he means to escape that way we can meet him there,¡± Verena said. Lady Aelia smiled. ¡°My mounts.¡± Bessa¡¯s heart pounded. She had imagined them occupying the high points of the fortress, raining missiles upon the duke. Dealing with him from an undefended position, even if it was from a dragon¡¯s vantage point, never crossed her mind. While Uncle Linos did teach them to shoot from horseback, Bessa hadn¡¯t practiced mounted shooting since she was ten or so. If she lived, she must tell Pippa to include wing fighting in her studies at the Rhabdo. In the courtyard they met Saavedra¡¯s troops, who were headed for the tunnel entrance. Verena quickly briefed them. ¡°I will trap him from the other side,¡± Lady Aelia said. ¡°Don¡¯t kill him when you catch up to him, hold him only. I will not allow him to escape.¡± Roswald¡¯s forces had already mustered. How much time did they have left? This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Lady Aelia¡¯s drakes would not tolerate any but their masters to ride them. Verena claimed a silver-winged horse, her former battle mount, and assigned gryphons to Bessa and Edana, who were assisted by two of Lady Aelia¡¯s beast masters. Remembering Aunt Sorcha, Bessa approached the beast with trepidation. She glanced at Edana, who eyed the creature coldly, but didn¡¯t hesitate in mounting it. Well, if she could do it¡­ It¡¯s like a horse. With claws, she told herself as she contemplated the creature, with its white hair on its lion half and silver feathers on its eagle side. The gryphon tracked her movements, at first motionlessly, until it was forced to turn its head when she reached its back. The beast master assigned to her uttered strange words in a soothing tone. For a moment the gryphon glared at her, then turned away to face the front. Lifting her gently, the beastmaster set Bessa on the gryphon¡¯s back. As one Lady Aelia, Verena, and the beast masters shouted a command, and with a running leap their mounts took off. At breakneck speed they hurtled away from the ground, ascending higher than the tower until the figures rushing to and fro on the ground looked like dolls. So exhilarated was she that Bessa forgot to be afraid. Lady Aelia led them over the rocky hills that separated the fort from the northern shoreline. When they cleared the hills, Bessa¡¯s heart leapt into her mouth. Below them, as far as the eye could see, giants marched on the beach, heading straight for the cave. Scanning the landscape, a chill went through Bessa when she noted the absence of ships. Nor did she see a camp for that matter; the giants clearly hadn¡¯t been stationed there. Before she could ask about reinforcements, Lady Aelia¡¯s voice rang out. ¡°Look away,¡± Lady Aelia shouted, an eyeblink before she flung out her arm. Light glimmered along the seer¡¯s bare right arm, which was all Bessa saw before she shut her eyes. The air warmed for a brief moment, and a roar filled her ears. When Lady Aelia shouted for them to move, Bessa¡¯s gryphon had already changed position. The humans opened their eyes to see a wall of blue fire cutting off the giants from the mouth of the cave. The duke was not among them, which meant he was trapped on the other side, as Lady Aelia intended. Verena¡¯s hands also moved, a dim filament of light emerging from them. Down below, the sand began to glow. Again Lady Aelia rained fire, turning the sand into a small lake of fire. The giants roared, and the winged beasts screamed in rage. Bessa¡¯s stomach dropped as her gryphon undulated, diving deep enough that she saw the pattern of the giants¡¯ armor before the gryphon swooped up out of range¡ªshe hoped¡ªof the lightning weapons. On her ascent she passed Edana¡¯s swooping gryphon, but Edana proved to be prepared: once low enough, she discharged the thunder mace. The sands turned to glass when the lightning struck it. Verena slashed the air with her left hand, and suddenly, the tide rolled from the beach¡ª ¡ªAnd came back almost as quickly, but much further inland than it had been before. Rolling over the giants and molten sands, the water sent up steam that became gusts of wind as Verena circled overhead on her winged steed, her arms spread. At her shout the wind became a small cyclone, sending glittering fragments of glass swirling up and pelting the giants. If they had eyes, they would be blinded. The giants, already writhing and screaming thanks to the fiery sands, now let out one long, deafening roar before their armor collapsed in charred ruins. In her mind, Bessa heard Uncle Linos¡¯s instructions as she readied her javelin. Wisely she held back; the giants dismayed her in their failure to fall right away. A human would have fallen as soon as Lady Aelia¡¯s flames had turned the sands molten; the giants had lasted too long. Soon every giant fell, their armor littering the beach. Yet the women and the beast masters didn¡¯t cheer. The beach quieted, but they didn¡¯t sense that peace had come. Mist began to rise from the giants¡¯ remains. In the sky above, Edana swore. The group drew near to each other, until Edana could speak without shouting herself hoarse. ¡°They¡¯re regenerating. The soldiers at Falcon¡¯s Hollow said you definitely need Salamandran acid to stop them,¡± Edana said, glancing at Lady Aelia. ¡°Otherwise, you have to take their heads.¡± Lady Aelia inhaled sharply. ¡°Atta¡¯u. I knew it.¡± Her gaze fastened on the javelin in Bessa¡¯s hand. ¡°Let me see that,¡± she said, and Bessa handed it to her. They watched as Lady Aelia gripped the point and the first few feet of the javelin, vigorously running her hands nearly a quarter of its length, leaving a glistening trail in the wake of her movements. In the light of the half-moon the weapon shone with the acid she had coated it with. With a shout she hurled it at one of the shapes forming on the beach, dissolving it before it coalesced. They paused long enough to confirm the kill before Lady Aelia seized the rest of the javelins Bessa carried. She coated them as fast as she could before handing them back to Bessa, who gingerly grasped them by their dry ends. Without waiting, Bessa ordered her beast master to have their gryphon circle over the giants. Never did she allow herself longer than a heartbeat to aim before she fired upon her targets, shapes that formed far faster than she would let herself acknowledge in her terror. Soon Edana¡¯s arrows joined Bessa¡¯s javelins, and together their missiles secured their victory over the strange beings. Bessa took the opportunity to pluck a thunder mace for herself from atop the pile of armor. Verena followed suit, and the women made a point of retrieving as many of the javelins and arrows as possible. Lady Aelia; however, already moved on, aiming her gryphon for the cave. Sapphire flames still gated the mouth. Eying the flames, Bessa wondered if the color signaled the intensity of the heat. Even from a good eighty feet away the fire warmed her, and her gryphon balked at moving closer. As soon as her fire drake flew low enough, Lady Aelia leapt from its back, allowing it to ascend again and circle overhead. She; however, strode to the mouth of the cave. Without hesitation she passed through her own fire, placing herself out of their reach. ¡°We¡¯re not to follow?¡± Edana asked, glancing at Verena, who had reined her own mount beside her. ¡°We¡¯re not to follow,¡± Verena said. ¡°Our job is done here, ladies. Let¡¯s move out.¡±
Verena forced them to halt as they drew near the fortress. The beast masters reined in Bessa and Edana¡¯s gryphons closer to her. She faced them with a grim expression. ¡°The giants we fought on the beach were only a handful. Lady Aelia told me the mass she saw approaching would likely swamp the fortress, and breach the gates.¡± ¡°And we don¡¯t have her fire or her acid,¡± Edana pointed out. ¡°There¡¯s that. By now all of the civilians should be in the tower. Normally I¡¯d send you both there, but you have gryphons, good aim, and the will to fight.¡± With a nod, the women accepted her implied request. Still, one question nagged at Bessa. ¡°Did Lady Aelia say where the giants were coming from? The ones on the beach were just there. Also, what of their sorcerers? There weren¡¯t any on the beach, but Pegasus Prime Senovara definitely says she faced one in my home.¡± ¡°A point of origin? Worth looking into, but¡ª¡± Boom! Enraged, the battle mounts screamed. The women joined them when their battle mounts began to plummet. Only a frantic barrage of syllables from the beast masters brought their steeds under control. ¡°What was that?¡± Edana asked, when her own gryphon subsided. In the moonlight Verena looked deathly pale. She cast an ominous eye in the direction of the fortress. ¡°To the tower,¡± she said at last. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± As they drew near, Bessa squinted. Where were the walls? Oh. Giants swarmed the courtyard, bursting through the barracks block. No resistance met them as they sped for the headquarters. How had they breached the walls? At last she spotted the crumpled watch towers, ripped from the jagged remains of the red sandstone walls they were once attached to. Stone. The giants destroyed stone walls. Verena cried out, ¡°The tower!¡± Chunks of stones were missing from the headquarters, as the top deck had either caved in, or fallen onto the bodies below the tower. Likely the dead were once the archers or sorcerers who had occupied the high positions. ¡°What now?¡± Edana asked, the color draining from her face. ¡°Pegasus Prime Roswald,¡± someone shouted, and they turned as one to see a small pack of gryphons bearing down on them, led by a bearded man on a red-winged gryphon. He saluted Verena. ¡°Red Gryphon Ekkehard. How many are left of the wingmen?¡± Verena demanded. ¡°Not even a quarter,¡± he answered. ¡°The ones with me are it. The others fell from the sky after that ungodly noise the giants made. They had some sort of weapon that shook the ground, and destroyed the walls. Pegasus, everyone is in the tower. Last I saw of the aether, he went for his dragon. I¡ª¡± ¡°Look!¡± Edana pointed to the door of the tower. Giants massed there, applying their thunder maces to the huge metal doors that barred their way. The doors shimmered silver, indicating a protection spell. The doors continued to hold, but for how long? They turned to Verena Roswald. ¡°The giants outnumber us,¡± Ekkehard said. ¡°So did the ones on the beach,¡± Edana pointed out, directing herself to Verena. ¡°They¡¯re all here in one place. Don¡¯t you have a way to kill them all at once?¡± Verena¡¯s eyes roved the landscape. She glared at the remains of the wall, and the guard towers. Then she smiled wolfishly, and called out to the two remaining sorcerers in the wing division. When they came forward she said, ¡°The giants knocked down our walls. Let them know now what it will cost them. Give me wind.¡± Ekkehard ordered the others to ascend, so they would be clear of Verena and the other two sorcerers. Side by side, Bessa and Edana watched in fascination as green filaments grew from their hands, then arced between them as the sorcerers spread their arms. The three of them took positions, Verena over what was left of the gates, the other two at opposite ends of the courtyard where the giants massed. From her vantage height, the giants looked like toy soldiers, and Bessa leaned forward on her gryphon to watch as Verena began to exact her vengeance. Wind turned to gales, carrying the chunks and rubble of the walls to the giants, pelting them, gashing them, crushing them. The sorcerers were relentless, not stopping until every giant had fallen. Only then did they regroup with Ekkehard, to await the regeneration. Before anyone could speak, a piercing scream shook them all. A dragon bore down on them. Bessa¡¯s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She would have fallen from her gryphon but for the beast master, who held her tight. Dimly through her terror, she noticed the lack of reaction of the beasts, and wondered why. Only Verena¡¯s shout of triumph calmed her, and allowed her to remember the draco part of Draco Aether Roswald¡¯s title. The red dragon blocked out what little there was of the moon, putting them all in utter darkness. All of them had to spread out, to give room to the dragon and its outstretched wings. Drawing level with them was a matter of perspective; the dragon¡¯s head was large enough to swallow whole any wingman, gryphon and rider both. Its golden eyes were about the size of a human head, and its teeth invited shudders. The dragon turned slightly, revealing the aether astride her on a harness of gold mail. ¡°Well done,¡± Roswald commended. ¡°I had thought only Roswitha could destroy them so thoroughly.¡± He smiled at Bessa and Edana. ¡°Ladies, we are eager to test out your advice to behead the giants. Stay here; you have done your part. The rest of us will deal with this.¡± With that, the others moved out, the aether in the lead. They hadn¡¯t gone far when a column of thick smoke whirled up from the center of the courtyard. The smoke behaved oddly, swirling about as if around an axis, yet forming almost a starburst pattern as six arms radiated out at regular intervals, then disappeared into the core. The smoke rose higher than the tower of the headquarters, and only then did they realize that it wasn¡¯t smoke at all. A shape began to coalesce. In swatches they could see bone and sinew appearing as the smoke formed itself into one massive giant. ¡°By the Reaper,¡± Bessa breathed. Before they knew it, the smoke cleared. Standing alongside the tower was a strange being with the head of a lion, the body of a man, the wings of a bat, and six serrated arms terminating in dragon claws. Chapter 13: The Beast With Thirty Talons XIII The Beast With Thirty Talons In which they fight the giant They didn¡¯t hesitate. Roswitha roared a challenge, breathing fire directly in the giant¡¯s face. Embers flared on its lion mane, and it let out a bone-shaking growl in response. The wing corps, and Verena, flanked the creature¡¯s left side. Roswitha reared back, exposing her long neck, then suddenly ascended. The gigalion advanced, its crashing steps ringing in their ears. ¡°Let it work,¡± Edana urged, clenching her fists on the reigns of her gryphon. Bessa started to ask what she meant, until she remembered Edana¡¯s warning that the giants could speak Rasenan. Instead she followed Edana¡¯s gaze. Ice formed in her belly. The gigalion stood at arm¡¯s length from the tower. Roswitha swooped, diving into the gigalion¡¯s reach. The gigalion swiped, barely missing her. He rushed foreword; but she flew up, beyond its grasp. Roswitha growled lustily, an unmistakable taunt. Focused only on the dragon, the gigalion moved away from the tower. So far, Roswald¡¯s plan was working. Bessa joined Edana in fervent prayer. In one long exhale, Roswitha singed the giant¡¯s mane. This time the gigalion charged, ramming through what was left of the armory and crashing onto the rocky hillside. It stomped, shaking and cracking the ground. Three massive stone blocks fell from the tower, shattering onto what was left of the giants¡¯ armor. Several rocks from the peaks above them rained, barely missing Bessa and Edana. The beast masters promptly sought higher ground, maneuvering their gryphons to a peak where they could safely watch the battle. The gigalion advanced. All six of its arms swiped at the dragon, but the agile serpent evaded it with ease. Roswald immediately banked Roswitha closer again for another exhaust of fire. Always he kept just out of reach, mocking the giant. The gigalion rushed forward. Roswitha barely escaped. The lion roared, but Roswald held fast and Roswitha did not flinch. Again the giant charged, again barely missing. White knuckled, Bessa watched. Wondered. How long before even the dragon grew too tired to keep up the skirmishing tactics? How would Roswald end it? A light flashed, heralding the wingmen swooping behind the giant. Verena discharged the thunder mace. Fire bloomed on the gigalion¡¯s mane. The creature thrashed after her. Ekkehard was ready. Flying straight into the giant¡¯s topmost right arm, his gryphon¡¯s momentum augmented his own strength as his sword bit through the giant¡¯s claw. The claw¡¯s satisfying thud echoed for several heartbeats. But even before it landed, Edana¡¯s arrow went singing past Bessa, embedding itself in the giant¡¯s stump. Startled, Bessa cursed herself for not being prepared to do her part, too. Meanwhile, Edana loosed another arrow, this time in the remains of the giant¡¯s claw. As expected it already began to mist, no doubt to regenerate into something worse. The gigalion screamed in rage as Lady Aelia¡¯s acid did its job. It was now first light. The wingmen, and Roswald, kept their distance as the giant thrashed. It struggled to rip away fistfuls of burning hair, but its missing claw hindered success. In the meantime the wingmen busied themselves, loosing a volley of arrows into the giant¡¯s hide. Meanwhile Bessa readied an arrow, yet kept it in reserve, unwilling to waste the acid. Until an idea came to her. Following the wingmen¡¯s flight of arrows told Bessa where the wind was blowing. Thus, her first arrow hit true, square in the right eye of the lion. Edana¡¯s laughter of approval rang out, and she did the honor of putting out the giant¡¯s left eye. The aftermath came swiftly. The earth shook again with the giant¡¯s screams, and with the resulting distress of the gryphons Roswald apparently ordered the wingmen to ground, for they joined Bessa and Edana on their perch. The giant¡¯s knees hit the ground first, and Bessa clenched her teeth, absorbing the shock. ¡°How are we going to take the head?¡± Ekkehard asked. A brooding silence fell over them. Hacking off the giant¡¯s head would take an arduous amount of time, and that was assuming the giant¡¯s cooperation. If it died before they finished, it would simply regenerate. Together, Bessa and Edana did not have enough acid-tipped arrows and javelins to prevent the re-emergence of more giants. After a short while, Bessa ventured, ¡°Do you have chains?¡± Roswald hesitated. ¡°What do you have in mind?¡± ¡°All of you throw a loop around the giant¡¯s neck. With a grappling hook, perhaps. Then fly in different directions. Would that allow you to take off the lion head, especially if Roswitha lends her strength?¡± ¡°Yesss,¡± Ekkehard said, drawing out the word in his surprise. Even Roswald smiled. ¡°Trust a Siluran to find a way to take an enemy¡¯s head. As for the idea, we will need to eliminate the topmost claw. Otherwise, it could easily snap our chains before we get started.¡± So, Verena and the other sorcerers teamed up to cause rock lances to shoot up from the ground, piercing the giant¡¯s ankles and knees, forcing it to fall forward. Ekkehard and the others got the first set of chains around the giant¡¯s neck just as Verena staked the giant¡¯s topmost left claw. With the giant effectively disabled, they set about the grisly task of beheading it. Bessa joined Edana and the beast masters in cheering the destruction of the creature, even as the head thundered down the hillside before the rapid disintegration of itself and its body. By now the sun fully showed itself. They all rejoiced in the death of the giant, then Roswald turned to face what was left of the fortress. Only the tower still stood, and Roswitha echoed their thoughts with a loud keening.
Bodies covered the fortress from one end to the next. There was no place for the gryphons or the dragon to land, not without perching on the dead. All they could do was fly low enough for their riders to dismount, then ascended again. The beast masters took control, leading the mounts to a safe distance in the hills, but closer than Roswitha¡¯s aerie. Stench from the dead overwhelmed them. Covering her nose, Bessa felt a surge of pity for what Edana endured six years ago. At least this time the dead would not include their family. The tower door held fast. They swung open as soon as the lookouts in the upper windows spied them. The giants never did breach it, but from the grim faces of the soldiers greeting them all had not gone well inside, either. Roswald¡¯s original strength had been almost five thousand soldiers, including his wingmen and sorcerers. The giants knocked out most of the archers, and as Ekkehard had warned, ninety percent of the wing corps was lost when the giants caused the gryphons to plummet from the sky. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. The collapse of the tower¡¯s upper deck strongly suggested that the civilians inside weren¡¯t as protected as everyone had assumed they would be. For a moment Bessa stood motionless, staring at the remains of the once-imposing walls. Many smaller forts throughout Silura were built of wood, or wood and stone, but Red Pointe had been carved from sandstone. Seeing how readily the giants crushed it made her want to cry. What were they supposed to do? The giants need not fear the infantry. Roswald¡¯s emergency strategy was to have the wingmen, sorcerers, and archers ¡®soften up¡¯ the giants, before having the infantry move in for the final kill. Now they knew giants need not fear wingmen, either. And what was the threshold for the giants massing into that horrible thing they¡¯d faced? More than the fifty killed on the beach? Or had she and Edana killed them fast enough to prevent them from coming together? The two soldiers in the doorway saluted their aether, who acknowledged them in turn. ¡°The giants are dead, in every form we have faced them tonight,¡± Roswald said to them. ¡°What of the civilians? What is left of our strength?¡± ¡°We can¡¯t get to the top floor. It¡¯s completely caved in, and the scryers don¡¯t see any survivors,¡± one of the soldiers replied. ¡°Except for the archers who manned the windows, and their reliefs, we have no more.¡± Roswald acknowledged the report. The guards stood aside to allow them to pass. The soldiers had turned the grand entrance into a sort of barricade, with the soldiers massed to hold off the giants in what would have been a last stand. What was once the command center of the fortress would now serve as a temporary shelter. Assuming it was safe. Regarding that question Roswald gave orders for the veterinarians to leave for the hills, to attend Roswitha and the gryphons. ¡°Ready the mounts as soon as possible, so the engineers can properly survey the top deck. If this tower isn¡¯t safe, we need to know now,¡± he explained. Glancing at Bessa and Edana he added, ¡°You should probably take shelter for now with¡ª¡± ¡°Where are the tunnels? Where is the duke?¡± Bessa demanded. Roswald turned sharply to the soldiers before him, one of whom replied that they had barricaded the entrance to the tunnels after Saavedra¡¯s cohort had gone through. ¡°In case the giants should get past him, sir. We need all the warning we can get.¡± ¡°And has his scryer contacted you?¡± ¡°No, commander.¡± Wasting no time, Roswald mustered a squad to accompany him into the subterranean part of the tower, where they kept prisoners as well as storage. Bessa and Edana followed discreetly, at a distance, careful not to draw attention to themselves. For the first time that night Bessa smiled, thinking of Pippa¡¯s judicious silence on the night they took Edana¡¯s counsel while hiding in their cellar. The soldiers guarding the tunnel barricades quickly unsealed the entrance, allowing a scout to go through. ¡°We could use a scryer,¡± Roswald said idly, earning nervous laughter from the group. Bessa¡¯s hand flew to her chest. Beneath her mail and subarmalis she wore Sorcha¡¯s Tear. Human enemies, like the duke, could not evade its power. Might it find giants or a Salamandran as well? Before she could offer assistance, a shout came from the darkness. The scout¡¯s rapid footsteps followed. Moments later he appeared. At a look from Roswald he declined to stand on formality. ¡°It¡¯s Saavedra. And he¡¯s got casualties.¡± At Verena¡¯s command Restorite sorcerers came to the entrance. The messenger hadn¡¯t been gone long when at last Saavedra¡¯s men emerged. They looked as haggard and drained as everyone else, but with an edge of triumph. ¡°Saavedra?¡± Roswald asked. In answer Saavedra¡¯s soldiers glanced back, into the darkness of the tunnel. Five heartbeats later Saavedra¡¯s voice came back to them. ¡°I am here, old friend.¡± He sounded exhausted, and when he finally stepped into the light they saw why. Cradled in his arms was Lady Aelia, her eyes shut tight and her mouth a thin line. Roswald started. ¡°Is she¡ª?¡± Saavedra¡¯s gentle head shake assured them all that Lady Aelia still lived. But when Saavedra set her on the stretcher, they saw why she was immobile. Her left arm was missing just below the shoulder. Roswald swore, and the others stepped back. In her shock, Bessa forgot discretion, and moved forward to see the seer better. She couldn¡¯t find her voice, leaving it to Edana to ask how? Saavedra¡¯s jaw bunched. ¡°The duke. He dared to strike her. He¡¯s still being carried here.¡± ¡°Explain,¡± Roswald demanded. The duke had managed to stay one step ahead of Saavedra¡¯s men, but he could not hope to hide from the scryer. She caught up to him before Saavedra did. The duke had feigned surrender, and lay his sword down before Lady Aelia. Stalling for time, Gagnon swore he would make a full confession. However, he used Saavedra¡¯s arrival as a distraction, leaping up and attacking before anyone could stop him. Though he aimed for her heart, she threw up her arm in a defensive move as she dodged. Which proved his undoing. Lady Aelia¡¯s blood sprayed on him, and combined with the acid she had secreted earlier, the duke quickly discovered just how deadly a Salamandran could be even without her fire. ¡°Lady Aelia says he¡¯ll be dead by noon,¡± Saavedra warned. ¡°And what of Lady Aelia?¡± Verena asked. Slowly, Lady Aelia opened her eyes. A small smile played on her lips. Then, she began to giggle, slowly building to laughter. ¡°Irony, irony, irony,¡± Lady Aelia said. ¡°It intrigues me that I can keep a giant from regenerating. And a water dragon. Why? Why can I do that? What sense does it make? So funny!¡± Peals of her hysterical laughter echoed in the halls. The Roswalds exchanged a glance. Cautiously, Verena asked, ¡°Lady Aelia?¡± Lady Aelia managed to suppress her mad mirth long enough to answer. ¡°I am fine, Lady Roswald. No need to worry. Like your giants and your water dragons, I, too, regenerate. Strange that I can keep them from doing it. I wonder if they can do the same to me?¡± She fastened her gaze on Bessa and Edana, nailing them to the spot with her glowing topaz eyes. ¡°Speak to the Fire Lords and Ladies. They can help you. And you will need their help.¡±
Edana made certain she was part of the escort for the duke when they brought him to an unused office that Roswald had converted to a sick room. The private room was not for Gagnon¡¯s benefit, but rather to keep Gagnon from being a distraction to the others, who were ready and eager to see him die a traitor¡¯s death¡­and to ensure that nothing he said would be overheard by just anyone. This was Lady Aelia¡¯s advice when she came out of her pain-induced euphoria. Edana quietly stationed herself by the door, careful not to attract attention to herself. As it was, her clothing allowed her to half-way pass as a soldier, letting her escape casual scrutiny. When one of Roswald¡¯s healers arrived she contrived to offer assistance, which he promptly accepted. This gave her the opportunity to relieve Gagnon of the keystone she knew he would have taken from his asrai chest before fleeing. She allowed the parchment with the star addresses to remain in his possession, calculating that it could be useful in Lady Aelia¡¯s hands. Furthermore, if an echomancer were to detect that Edana had handled the document, she wouldn¡¯t think anything of it, considering Edana¡¯s present activity. In the meantime, the medic quickly prepared the medicines that would restore Gagnon to enough sanity to talk coherently. As soon as the doctor pronounced Gagnon fit for interviewing, Roswald swiftly entered. Bessa followed in his wake, escorting a grim-looking Lady Aelia. On their heels were Saavedra and two draco hydras and two pegasus primes, one of each belonging to him or Roswald. Lady Aelia wore a woollen shawl draped around her torso, concealing her injury. And perhaps also the healing process? Edana wondered how long it would take for her to regenerate her arm. Verena Roswald entered last. The pegasus prime who had been her replacement was killed during the battle, along with his subprime. Verena would resume her old duties for the interim. A nervous-looking youth preceded Verena. The codex and pen he carried signaled his function as a scribe. Edana glanced back at Bessa, now spotting the blackthorn box Bessa carried in her other arm. Bessa¡¯s eyes gleamed in undisguised satisfaction as she stared down at the duke. Roswald¡¯s voice rang out sonorously, filling the room as he spoke. ¡°Lady Aelia, Imperial Scryer in the sixty-third year of the reign of Emperor Drusus Caecilianus Tarkhana. You are humbly asked to conduct and attest to these proceedings. Do you accept?¡± Lady Aelia stepped forward. ¡°I, Aelia, the Sight and Voice of His Excellency the emperor, accept, Draco Aether Ritter Roswald.¡± ¡°Do you stand in judgment over Aulus Antonius Gagnon, Duke of Silura?¡± ¡°I do.¡± The formality out of the way, Lady Aelia finally looked at the duke, who regarded them impassively. Bandages covered his face, mainly for their benefit. Though he wasn''t expected to recover, the raw burns on Gagnon¡¯s face from Lady Aelia¡¯s blood were dreadful to behold. Roswald maintained a cool expression as he continued. ¡°Duke Antony Gagnon, for the record, the charge against you is treason. Do you have anything to say in your defense, before we proceed?¡± Silence. Lady Aelia asked the questions. Who were the giants, and when did Gagnon enter their service? What did they promise to secure his cooperation? What were their goals? Who were their allies, and where were they to be found? Gagnon set his jaw, his teeth clenched in obvious pain. Nevertheless, they all understood him as his answer came. ¡°We are the children. You are the motes. And the servants will fall.¡± Chapter 14: Revelation of the Sorceress Part II The Circumference of Darkness Chapter XIV The Revelation of the Sorceress In which a sorceress identifies a terrifying enemy ¡°You¡¯re one of them fancy ones from down south. Dyed shoes give it away, girl. And you¡ªI don¡¯t know where you¡¯re from, but you have a southern accent. With something extra thrown in. What¡¯s the story, dearie?¡± The woman eyed them over her gold-plated cup as she drank. She stood in the doorway to her roundhouse, with her back against one post and her bare feet firmly planted against the other post. Twig-brown hair crowned her head, and ended in a thick braid resting on her ample belly. Youthful rosiness still bloomed on her cheeks, but the network of lines radiating from her grey eyes told them she was no longer young. However, the berry coloring on her lips told them she still kept her spark: Cingetissa, Red Pointe¡¯s corran, as Silurans referred to their chief reapers. She was also, plain and simple, the most powerful sorceress outside the fortress. Edana and Bessa exchanged a look. Three days past the Battle of Red Pointe they were not expecting anyone to concentrate on their clothes and accents when there were giants to ask about. ¡°That¡¯s how we talk in Falcon¡¯s Hollow,¡± Edana said dryly. ¡°Good morning, Corran. Do you have any experience with these?¡± Gagnon¡¯s keystone sparkled in her palm. For a long while Cingetissa only stared at it, motionless. ¡°So now comes the day.¡± Again Edana and Bessa exchanged a look. ¡°You¡¯re a seer, too?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°I don¡¯t have to be for this. Step inside.¡± The open door provided the only natural light in her home. Thus, she passed her hand over a glowlight, illuminating the room in soft blue light after they shut the door. Iron scrollworks enameled in red adorned her stone walls, especially around the hearth. A coal-fed fire blazed beneath an iron cauldron in her hearth. Water bubbled and frothed in the pot. By the pungent, grassy scent that wrinkled their noses, they knew Cingetissa was making a tisane of dandelion roots. ¡°Well?¡± She gestured for them to sit at her table of seasoned hazel wood, where she had left a basket of elderflowers. They sat. While they got comfortable, Cingetissa busied herself in the corner of her hut, where she kept a small silver cauldron suspended from chains. She returned with two cups, one for Bessa and one for Edana. Settling in across from them she smiled, and gestured at the cup in front of Bessa. ¡°I hear you¡¯re one of them fancy wine people, young miss. News of your journey here did not escape my ears. But this here is a good brew, and I reckon you¡¯ll like it fine. Test it for yourself, you¡¯ll see.¡± Gamely Bessa took a sip, and was pleasantly surprised. The ale was nicely spiced, with, hmm meadowsweet? Yes, meadowsweet and wild strawberries, along with honey. ¡°Indeed I do like it fine,¡± she judged. ¡°If I could trouble you to send some to the Pendrys of Two Rivers, and to my estate in Falcon¡¯s Hollow, I would be most grateful.¡± Cingetissa¡¯s eyes brightened. ¡°That good, eh? Consider it done, sweetling.¡± This time, Edana placed the keystone on the table, and this time, Cingetissa examined it. After a moment she uttered one word. Suddenly, silver flames bloomed above the table, forming a strange glyph. Edana and Bessa recoiled, but Cingetissa regarded it calmly. ¡°Hmm,¡± she said. ¡°This dodges a paralysis spell. And what more? Ah, the one who placed the spell¡­¡± Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she spoke in rapid-fire High Siluran, the dialect spoken by Silurans in the mountainous north. They could barely keep up with her, even before she slipped into another language they had never heard before. Bessa and Edana glanced at each other, and shook their heads. Finally, Cingetissa came back to herself. Deeply she exhaled, shallowly she inhaled. She gestured vaguely towards the hearth. Bessa went over to the bubbling pot. Steam washed over her face, and with a grimace she endured the assault on her nose. The dandelion water reeked like her cousin Lucius¡¯s nappies after he wet himself. Well, she wasn¡¯t going to drink it. Neither was Cingetissa; when Bessa brought a cup to her she vigorously shook her head and pointed to the beer cauldron. Silently accepting the rebuke, Bessa hurried over to the cauldron. Small and elegant, the cauldron was fashioned of silver with a chased pattern of bees and flowers circling its middle. The corran already held her hand out when Bessa returned. Cingetissa drained the cup so rapidly Bessa wondered if she would choke. She did not. Once finished she shook herself, then took a deep breath before she looked at them. Thank you, dearie. I needed that. Ahem.¡± Her eyes looked sharper, focused. ¡°What happened to you?¡± Edana ventured. Cingetissa laughed. ¡°Talking to the spirits, of course. There are some things I cannot know on my own. As for you, be careful, dearies. The spirits, they don¡¯t like the one who made this key. Beware of Murena¡ªthe Eel. He¡¯s dangerous. I have a house, he has a lair. You understand me? Bessa shivered. Beside her, Edana went very still. She eyed Cingetissa with disfavor. In turn Bessa raised an eyebrow, mystified. Then it hit her. Ohhh. All sorcerers were forbidden to access the shadow realm of Erebossa, and the spirits therein. Only the Anointed¡ªthe priests¡ªwere so trusted. It was Law: the law of men ¡­ and the law of the gods. Edana asked, ¡°Isn¡¯t talking to the spirits something an Oathbreaker would do?¡± Oathbreaker, the epithet bestowed upon those sorcerers who dared to touch Erebossa, however lightly. Uncle Min¡¯da did not even approve of talking to guardian spirits who resided in the places of the world, however benign the sorcerers claimed them to be. Sorcerers¡ªthe good ones¡ªwere only permitted to deal with the material realm. Oathbreakers disregarded that rule, and some were brazen about it. Cingetissa¡¯s insouciant smile set Bessa on edge, but Edana remained visibly calm. ¡°No, dearie. That would imply I ever took that oath. I wear no master¡¯s yoke. I swear no fealty to men. You put your faith in oaths them invaders make their gifted ones swear to? Anyone can wear those flashy pins they have. Anyone can break oath to a man. I make no oaths, save to them that¡¯s Above. And I¡¯ve never broken faith with them. Never! Now hear me well!¡± Edana started to speak, but Cingetissa raised a hand, quelling her. ¡°Listen to me, sweet things. Listen. The spirits I speak to ain¡¯t fellshades of Erebossa. They¡¯re right here, the guardians of the land. You do believe in those, don¡¯t you? Not once have I ever had to fight my way to ¡¯em. Until today. Until now. Always they¡¯ve been ¡®there,¡¯ until now. Always ¡­ I was alone. Now? Something else was with me. A presence.¡± Abruptly she bolted up from her chair. Cup in hand, she strode over to her ale cauldron. Only after another long draught did she speak again. ¡°Listen,¡± she said at last. Vigorously, she rubbed her arms as if to warm herself. ¡°Something is watching me. Has been, for over a year now. Every day it grows stronger. But just now it seemed it would reach out and touch me.¡± Bessa inhaled, and another shiver rippled down her spine. ¡°Are you in danger? Are the other sorcerers in danger?¡± Silence met her as Cingetissa twisted her braid around and around, coiling it about her wrist like a torq. Then, ¡°In my bones I would say yes. When I first felt that presence, I feared a Scouring might be coming. I thought the Presence meant to cut me off from the guardian spirits. The lorekeepers say that happened during the Scouring. We were cut off. This was before the Fourth Cataclysm, but the memories, they linger. Your coming here, the attack by those giants, tells me something else is going on. Something we haven¡¯t seen before.¡± Edana took a deep breath, and repeated the ominous motto uttered by the giant and the duke. ¡°¡®The servants will fall¡¯?¡± Cingetissa repeated to herself. ¡°Who? The priests? The gods? Are there other Children besides the dryads and the naiads and so on? Or are they the servants?¡± ¡°Wait, wait,¡± Bessa interrupted. ¡°You think the giants are speaking on that level? That they¡¯re not talking about people, they¡¯re talking about dryads, or the Huntress?¡± Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. In answer Cingetissa went over to a shelf, where she began rooting through several boxes she kept there. With her back to them she replied, ¡°Of course. Ain¡¯t that where your mind goes? Look. There¡¯s a lotta races in this world. I hear tell a Salamandran is here. Why not giants, too? But the giants saying what you heard yours say, and the Presence? And the spirits¡¯ restlessness? Come, girl, you need to look beyond that which belongs to this world. Count on it, sweet thing. Especially because of that key.¡± She opened a box, and let out a whoop of satisfaction. ¡°What about the key?¡± Edana asked. Turning back to them, Cingetissa triumphantly held up something shimmery. She tossed it onto the table, where it landed in front of Edana. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, Edana picked it up and unfurled it. A drawstring bag, shut with golden tassels. At first she thought the bag itself was woven of cloth-of-silver, but its sheen and iridescence suggested something more ethereal. ¡°Starsilk. Spun from Sorcha¡¯s light, when She shines brightest in the heavens. You fancy folk call this kind of purse a ¡®kibisis.¡¯ Keep the key inside it, my sweet, and its master can¡¯t set his gaze on you. The light of the morning star blinds him, you see.¡± Immediately Edana shoved the keystone into the bag, earning a nod of approval from Cingetissa. ¡°Now, my dears, I¡¯ve done all I can do for you. It may be you¡¯re devout enough, but I reckon you can¡¯t deal with the master on your own. I have no amulet, or a blessing, because I ain¡¯t one of them Anointed ones. Just gifted¡±¡ªBessa read a rebuke in her sharp smile¡ª¡°Hear me, my sweet young things: This key? The door it opens is not of this world.¡±
Two days later they left Red Pointe in somber spirits. Cingetissa¡¯s warning, and the implications of the duke¡¯s otherworldly key, weighed heavily upon them. ¡°That¡¯s one down,¡± Lady Nensela observed, when Edana had filled her in, via the oraculum at Red Pointe. ¡°And he takes with him many secrets.¡± ¡°Not all of them,¡± Edana corrected her, revealing what she found in Gagnon¡¯s treasure box. When she explained Cingetissa¡¯s revelation about the keystone, Lady Nensela gasped. ¡°So I was right,¡± the seer murmured. ¡°This is not good. Oh, by the Seeker.¡± ¡°What happens now?¡± Lady Nensela shook her head. ¡°You have done well. Very well. Our friends will take it from here. You have done all we can ask of you. Hurry back now, while there is still chaos. By the time the Battle of Red Pointe is widely known, you will need to be far from there. Return to me as soon as you can.¡± For this reason, Edana readily agreed to Saavedra¡¯s offer to escort her and Bessa to his fortress in Casterbridge. To everyone¡¯s surprise, the Pendrys met them there. Arriving with their own entourage they reached the gates the same time Saavedra¡¯s caravan did. To Bessa¡¯s surprise, her grandparents appeared to have expected her, though they didn¡¯t allow formalities to get in the way of hugging her. The surprises kept coming. When Bessa started introductions, Saavedra proved to already know who the Pendrys were. Even more, he greeted her grandparents in keeping with their standing as tribal chieftans. Inwardly, she was pleased he troubled himself to learn Siluran politics. Undoubtedly he would be wise enough to ally with the Pendrys and other Silurans in defense of Silura. It was an hour past noon, and Bessa mentally calculated whether they could reach the Pendry home before nightfall. So far, giants declined to attack during the day. Ever since the attack on Red Pointe she considered the night something to get through, and survive. ¡°We heard about what happened,¡± Grandmother Pendry said. ¡°We have something that may interest you.¡± She directed this at Saavedra. Saavedra took them to his council chambers. Unlike Red Pointe¡¯s, his walls were timber with slate posts. Like Red Pointe, his walls were covered in cloth itineraria of his territory and that of Greater Silura. Bessa noticed her grandparents tactfully did not acknowledge that Saavedra¡¯s jurisdiction included Two Rivers. They hadn¡¯t come to pick a fight; this wasn¡¯t their style. Grandfather Pendry set his battle scythe upon the table. Again Saavedra showed his wisdom, in refraining from demanding the Pendrys disarm themselves. Grandmother Pendry gingerly carried a sack in her gloved hands. Bessa intently eyed the sack. Grandmother Pendry carefully set the sack on the table, pulling out what appeared to be a small clay beehive. Violet lightning sparked and flashed. A hush fell over the room, and Bessa could not help the thrill rippling through her body. Different colors signaled different powers, and violet denoted the rarest power of all: life-sowing magic. And in the Pendry family, such power could only mean one thing. Bessa stared at Saavedra. How would he react? ¡°I¡¯m guessing this doesn¡¯t have bees in it,¡± he said wryly. His expression suggested he also hadn¡¯t missed the implications of the violet lightning. ¡°Correct,¡± said Grandmother Pendry. ¡°We¡¯re still working on a way to penetrate the giants¡¯ armor with our weapons, but for now, here¡¯s your reserve. Mine your fields with them, or have your wingmen drop them. The hives have two components: hydra venom to paralyze and poison the giants¡­and the dragon¡¯s teeth.¡± With narrowed eyes she stared at Saavedra. A challenge. Bessa held her breath. Dragon teeth warriors always bore swords and armor of dragonsteel, which were akin to moonbow steel in their ability to cut through metal and bone. However, Rasena Valentis had laws dating back to the Fourth Cataclysm against sowing dragon¡¯s teeth. Only the most formidable of sorcerers could properly execute such a spell, but even they must contend with the fact that the warriors could not be readily controlled. Usually¡­ Whatever Saavedra¡¯s thoughts, they remained hidden behind a pleasant mask of neutrality. ¡°What prevents them from killing us?¡± The Pendrys exchanged a glance. On cozy autumn nights they had taught Bessa family lore. Thus, she knew the Two Rivers tribe had mastered sowing the teeth in ways the Rasena Valentians never did. And their methods were a closely guarded secret. Grandfather Pendry answered, ¡°Twice the life of my granddaughter has been endangered by these giants that ought not to be here. And twice your people have done everything possible to defend her, and those of our people in your care. Not at all what I would expect ofan imperial inter¡ªsoldier. Honor shall be met with honor: to aid your defense of our land, I will share with you our way of controlling the sown men.¡± Glancing at Edana he added, ¡°And the other lands in your power.¡± Bessa smiled, unable to conceal her pride. Honor shall be met with honor indeed! More than that, Grandfather¡¯s willingness to think beyond their tribe made her heart do somersaults. From his own hands Grandfather Pendry handed Saavedra a scroll. The vellum page contained a spell placing a geas on the warriors to defend their lands and obey his orders. However¡ªthe warriors would never attack a Siluran. Further, the geas was conditional on the warriors being given their freedom when the threat from the giants were over. Bessa supposed it was downright polite of him to add to the geas the provision that the warriors could not attack Rasena Valentians either. As she suspected, Grandfather Pendry did not bring along his battle scythe for nothing. Its pattern-welded blade was angled differently than the farming variety, and coated with hydra venom. By whatever means they killed a giant, the scythe would allow them to behead it. Without hesitation Saavedra accepted the dragon hives. Briskly, he and the Pendrys negotiated a plan for Two Rivers to supply the garrisons in his jurisdiction. Not an hour had gone by before the Pendrys were on their way, having added Bessa and Edana to their caravan.
The Pendrys escorted Bessa and Edana back to the Philomelos estate. Ostensibly, the Pendrys wanted to deliver dragon-teeth hives to the Philomelos family and the Falcon¡¯s Hollow Watch. However, from the way they watched her, Bessa suspected her grandparents were worried about her safety. As soon as she arrived home she asked one of the housemaids to summon the remaining workers to join her in the courtyard. In the meantime, Bessa found Grandmother in the library. Grandmother flung her arms around Bessa and Edana as soon as she set eyes on them. Though overjoyed, she exhaled in relief when Edana assured her they would leave Silura at dawn. ¡°I have not been able to track down where Lysander is stationed,¡± Grandmother said. ¡°But his family has an estate in Asil¡¯est, in Sir?nasse. That¡¯s where I met his father in the first place. They should be able to tell you more when you reach them.¡± Grandfather Pendry¡¯s eyes narrowed, and Bessa recalled he, also, had not been part of the negotiations for her betrothal. And while the sheer fact of her existence had forced him to become more accepting of ¡®outsiders,¡¯ it had still taken him several years to even be willing to speak of Bessa¡¯s engagement. Now, relief fluttered across his face. The look he exchanged with Grandmother Pendry suggested that like Aurelia, he also believed Bessa would be safer away from Silura. Bessa¡¯s lips quirked. Was this what it took to unite both sets of grandparents? An existential threat to her wellbeing? So rarely did they see eye to eye. Then again, to the Pendrys, was she not also the only child of a child they lost? Yet for Grandfather, a special torment might salt his sorrow: the memory of rejecting Papouli¡¯s input into Morwenna¡¯s care during her pregnancy with Bessa. Bessa knew the story. While Papa was away from Silura on business, Mama decided to visit her parents. Only then did she discover she was with child, and sent news to her in-laws. In his answering letter, Papouli insisted she return at once. Though energetic in spirit, Morwenna had been delicate in body since birth. Knowing this, Papouli judged her heart too weak to survive a pregnancy without strong magic. If she returned to the Philomelos estate he could look after her. Compounding the danger was the fact that Bessa was due in little more than a fortnight after the winter solstice, when his powers were at their weakest. The Restorer presided over the summer solstice. A supremely blessed healer might even overcome death when the sun graced the constellation of the Restorer¡¯s sacred phoenix. In his youth, Papouli once proved himself such a healer. All the same, Grandfather Pendry preferred to place his trust in healers he knew of from his youth. When the time came, it turned out their reputations exceeded their experience. In the end, only Bessa could be saved. After the death of Bessa''s father, Nikandros, Aurelia was ruthless in ensuring Bessa remained with her and Papouli. So ruthless she even invoked the Rasenan law, which gave the father¡¯s family precedence over the mother¡¯s when a child was orphaned. Now, at long last, her father¡¯s mother and her mother¡¯s parents were on the same side. Shaking her head, Bessa caught sight of a slave arriving in the doorway. The woman nodded at her, and Bessa rose. ¡°Join me in the courtyard, everyone. I only want to explain this once,¡± she said. In the courtyard Bessa had a standing-room only audience as she launched into the story of Red Pointe. Enraptured, they listened intently as she explained the efforts she and Edana made to turn people against Duke Gagnon, and the consequences thereof. When she came to the part of her tale where Gagnon unwittingly doomed himself, a thunderous cheer went up. ¡°So he¡¯s dead?¡± This from one of the few survivors of the giants¡¯ attack on the winegrower¡¯s compound. Her eyes were wide with hope. Bessa opened her blackthorn box, revealing Gagnon¡¯s head. The survivors hugged each other, and her uncles came forward to clasp her hands and kiss her cheeks. Little Aurelius, Bessa¡¯s cousin, piped up to ask after Lady Aelia¡¯s arm. The quiver of his chin suggested the little boy was alarmed by her mutilation. The question surprised everyone, and they looked expectantly at Bessa. ¡°Her arm was regenerating when we left her. It¡¯s an¡­odd thing to see.¡± When Aurelius excitedly demanded details, the others laughed and his nursemaid shushed him. Before the day was out, Bessa made a point of visiting the tombs set aside for the vineyard crews. The recent dead were already interred, and Bessa examined the workmanship of the sculptors, who were busy creating a high-relief frieze in the likenesses of the slain. By their sketches the sculptors revealed their intention to depict the victims as they lived, at work in the vineyard. Working, but with sly hints of festival season: the jugs and pitchers at their feet, the children hiding cups behind their backs, and Ria bringing out a basket of cheesecakes. Bessa smiled, pleased they would be commemorated in such a cheerful fashion. To the spirits of the departed she whispered, ¡°One down. However many more to go, I will find them. I swear it.¡± Chapter 15: The Gates of Farewell and Welcome XV The Gates of Farewell & Welcome In which Bessa and Edana take the first steps of a thousand mile journey Aunt Nerissa approached Bessa and Edana after breakfast the next day, as they were preparing to set out. She invited them to join her in the Pelasgian side of the family library. In other parts of the empire, libraries were typically divided into two, with one side devoted to works in the Pelasgian language, and the other side devoted to works in Rasenan. The Philomelos library was no exception, thanks to Papouli. The beauty of the room made Bessa sigh deeply. Designed as one grand hall, with semicircular turrets at either end, the library exuded tranquility. A glass dome over the entryway allowed light into the room. Directly beneath the dome, a grand medallion inlaid in the marble floor featured the Philomelos motif of a nightingale clutching a grape cluster in its talons. Niches inside the walls housed cabinets lined with volumes. Marble pilasters, shaped as half moons, separated each cabinet. In a nod to Silura, carved starflowers served as the pilasters¡¯ capitals. Most of the cabinets contained codices, though some contained wooden scroll cases. Before Bessa was born, scrolls dominated the library. But Grandmother completed the process Papouli had started, of having the scribes copy his old scrolls to codex form. Bessa smiled, remembering how Uncle Hedrek had grumbled about undergoing the format shift for his own collection. Using the codices meant they no longer needed to have long tables for unfurling the scrolls in the library, and Grandmother claimed the longest table for the dining room. A mural between one set of shelves depicted Papouli in his youth. His expression of quiet contemplation looked like an invitation to unburden herself, and she imagined his patients had felt the same way. Aunt Nerissa got down to it. She placed her company at Bessa¡¯s disposal, and advised her to visit her office in Delmore, the nearest port to Asil¡¯est. By the time they arrived, she said, the Kyane¡¯s Rest should be waiting for them at port. ¡°Don¡¯t take too long to arrive; it is a merchant ship. I personally know her captain, and will vouch for him. I will reserve a room for you. There are very few for any passengers, and most people have to sleep in the open.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Bessa breathed, moved by her aunt¡¯s generosity. Aunt Nerissa held up a hand. ¡°There¡¯s more. I have asked my captains to keep their eyes and ears open.¡± Shifting her gaze to Edana she added, ¡°If necessary, you may call upon them, and these others here.¡± She pushed forward a piece of parchment she had rolled into a small scroll. Edana unfurled it, and silently read the names of other captains and shipping companies. Aunt Nerissa said, ¡°The way I see it, the giants may not live on air. Certainly their human supporters don¡¯t. With any other battle and invasion logistics matter. Supplies matter, and the navy has outsourced supplies and logistics to my ships, and others, in the past¡ªit is how I met Morivassus. Why could not our enemies do the same? So far the giants have appeared near water, in Silura. Perhaps they have a ship? Maybe one with a portal? At any rate, I hope this helps you. If you need anything else, let me know.¡± Taking her leave, Aunt Nerissa paused long enough to kiss and hug Bessa farewell. In voice husky with unshed tears, she uttered well-wishes in Bessa¡¯s ear, and speculated Bessa would look lovely on her wedding day. Shortly after, Bessa and Edana set off, this time with a large escort. By nightfall they came to the capital, White Cliff, where they stopped at an inn. They remained there the next morning, for Bessa needed to pay the tax she owed for freeing Lenora. The clerks confirmed their receipt of the manumission documents she¡¯d sent days ago. As it turned out, a clerk recognized Bessa¡¯s name, and she and Edana were ushered in to meet the governor. Roswald¡¯s report had also arrived, and the governor received with it Saavedra¡¯s missive regarding the weapons the Pendrys had provided. For the governor¡¯s benefit, Bessa and Edana were obliged to give their official testimonies, and answer every question he put to them. Before they left, the governor decided they deserved a reward for their part in exposing the duke, and for facing down the giants. He offered to cover the losses to Bessa¡¯s vineyard, and gave her and Edana small medallions commemorating their valor at Red Pointe. Bessa smiled at the medallion¡¯s engraving of the gigalion¡¯s head. This would be a thing to explain to grandchildren one day¡­ Because the women intended to go to Sir?nasse, the governor arranged for them to speak to his counterpart there, via his oraculum. The governor of Sir?nasse asked the women to allow his own duke and aethers to view the giants¡¯ thunder maces for themselves. Edana had retrieved a good amount of the maces precisely for the engineers and tekmagi to study them, and she promised to turn over a few to the fortress in Asil¡¯est. They would be held for the senior officers. Having done this, they were finally on their way. ¡°Let¡¯s walk here,¡± Edana said, when they were nearly an hour away from White Cliff. ¡°You¡¯ll want to see the full view of the dragons when we reach them. Before then you¡¯ll want to at least see the view of the Sea of Five Dragons.¡± Edana was right. Bessa stopped in her tracks when they came to the bluff that marked the descent to the isthmus. Never in her life had she come so far, and she paused, turning this way and that. Silura ended with the field of blue starflowers swaying gently in the breeze before her, and a trellised arch at the field¡¯s edge leading to the road running down the bluff and to the land bridge. A different vista awaited Bessa when she turned back: a vast green field, and a broad highway leading back to White Cliff, Falcon¡¯s Hollow, and her life as she had known it. She clasped her arms about herself, trying to fight the urge to go running back to her estate. Remember, Bessa told herself. Even if the giants weren¡¯t an issue, there was still the matter of Lysander. Turning back wasn¡¯t an option. Somehow, without her realizing it, certain choices were no longer hers to make. No longer were her days her own, to pass as she would. And¡ªshe did want to leave. All her life she¡¯d read about places she wanted to explore, new people she wanted to meet. Now was her chance. Bessa glanced at Edana, who regarded her sympathetically. Edana was framed by a view of the arch, which was spangled with honeysuckle vines. ¡°I cried,¡± Edana said. ¡°When we reached this arch, my parents almost had to strap me to the wagon to make me move. I wanted to stay here like nothing I¡¯d ever wanted before.¡± She had taken that walk, Bessa considered. ¡°At least we¡¯re together. This was our plan, wasn¡¯t it? We were supposed to leave Silura with a pack filled with goodies, our families¡¯ warm hugs and kisses, and our walking sticks in hand. We were supposed to go exploring all over Rasena Valentis, and see the places our fathers had been. This is not quite how we pictured it, and not as sweetly as we wanted it, but we¡¯re doing this now.¡± Edana pondered this for a moment. She smiled. Together she and Bessa entered the arbor, and its floral canopy. They descended the bluff, entering the isthmus proper. When they walked another five miles the mist appeared, from seemingly nowhere. The group brought out their glowlights and continued on their way, albeit a little slower than before. Bessa nervously looked around. Anyone or anything could be in the mist with them. The guards escorting them kept their voices low. Occasionally, a fox screamed in the distance. The screams always sounded like a child or woman in distress, setting everyone¡¯s nerves on edge. Before they got much further into the mist, Edana hung her glowlight in a net that dangled from the carriage. Leaving her hands free for her knives, which she openly carried. She looked unceasingly about them, the set of her jaw betraying great tension. Edana must have felt Bessa¡¯s eyes on her. ¡°Amalu and I were ambushed on the street when it was foggy like this,¡± she said, answering Bessa¡¯s unspoken question. A fox screamed again, making Bessa grit her teeth. ¡°The fog wasn¡¯t natural, though, was it?¡± ¡°It was too perfectly timed against us. I¡¯d say no. Amalu did his best to keep me from knowing exactly what was happening in Valentis. All I knew was that he believed someone very important was setting up Valentis for a fall. Likely the emperor was the target. Think about what would happen if you needed amulets and other wards of protection, but couldn¡¯t access the most powerful material for that purpose.¡± ¡°Surely the emperor has stockpiles of silver? Or can jump to the head of the queue if need-be?¡± ¡°Which is how we knew he was not the sole target,¡± Edana agreed. ¡°But I said, ¡®if you needed amulets.¡¯ You, and everyday folk of lesser means than you. Think about it. Now that we are reunited, if you believed you needed silver, who would you turn to?¡± ¡°I¡¯d ask you. Surely you¡¯d yield a bit of your own stockpile for your good old foster sister? I wouldn¡¯t even have to ask; you¡¯d just send it to me, no?¡± Impishly, Bessa faced Edana, giving her the full brunt of the doe-eyed stare she used when they were children. Old Tamm, the master vigneron on the Philomelos estate, never failed to yield up his honeycombs, or sips of his honey wine when Bessa used that stare on him. For a moment Edana¡¯s lips quivered in her silent laughter. A release of tension, Bessa saw, and thereafter Edana looked a little more relaxed, though she remained alert and kept her knives out. ¡°True enough,¡± Edana replied when she composed herself again. ¡°And that is true also for the high and mighty in Valentis, naturally. In times of great trouble they¡¯d exploit their own connections. And everyone else would know who they need to turn to: their temples. So many people in convenient locations¡­¡± Bessa¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Just as the giants on the beach.¡± ¡°Just so. And if you did not go to the temples, if you went to the nearest sorcerer, how likely would you be to question the amulets he offers to you?¡± Involuntarily, Bessa glanced back. Trees peeked through the mists. Each time the mist outlined a man¡¯s shape he would step forward, revealing himself as either one of her guards, or Edana¡¯s. The carriage wheels creaked on the stone road. Occasionally a bird trilled, or a yet another fox barked. They were alone. However, Bessa decided the conversation would be better to have when they were safely ensconced in one of the imperial inns. Yet, she could not let the matter drop until she asked, ¡°Because of you this scheme never came to pass, did it?¡± ¡°No, it didn¡¯t. For which the Star Dragons were grateful. To hear them tell it, my actions staved off a great battle. For now, anyway. Look, there.¡± Following Edana¡¯s gaze, Bessa looked upward. And gasped. Looming over them, from two hundred feet or so, was the massive head of a dragon. The stone creature glared forbiddingly at them. Like Lady Aelia, and unlike Roswitha, a column of spikes ran down his forehead. The spikes seemed as tall as her body, and added to them was a crest adorning the dragon¡¯s head like a crown. More spikes ran along the back of his long neck. ¡°Incredible,¡± she breathed. Edana led her to the plaque set up in honor of Ginessa and the dragons. Here is testament of Ginessa, daughter of Silura, who raised these noble dragons to defend her people. Look upon them, and know that these dragons will be roused once more if ever again an enemy threatens this land. The mist cleared a bit, allowing them to see the other dragons against the backdrop of the azure sea. ¡°The plaque doesn¡¯t name the dragons,¡± Bessa observed. ¡°Did Ginessa ever name them? How did she compel them, I wonder? None seem able to control sea dragons now. Is it true that even the emperor and the dukes have to use special amulets to make their dragons obey them?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard that the dukes ride sea drakes because drakes are more willing to deal with humans, even ones who don¡¯t have magic. The sea dragons are sapient, so I don¡¯t know if I believe the story about compelling them: how wise would it be to make a slave of an intelligent dragon? Lady Nensela said that Lysimachus is not under the emperor¡¯s control. They¡¯re friends.¡± In silence they continued on. As soon as the mist cleared enough, the chief of their guards suggested the women board their carriage, to make up for lost time. ¡°We will want to enter Sir?nasse before nightfall,¡± they were warned. The guards drove a fast pace, and before sunset they reached the arch heralding the entrance to Sir?nasse. Red and blue poppies surrounded a majestic stone arch. The vista beyond was every bit as magnificent as the one they had left behind in Silura. A short way beyond the arch, they came to an imperial inn, appropriately named the First and Last Stop. Only after they secured rooms did a question occur to Bessa. ¡°The governor gave me an imperial inn pass, to go with yours. How did you get yours? I thought only government officials were supposed to have them?¡± The ¡®inn passes¡¯ were certificates issued to and by government officials. Inn passes permitted the bearer to stay at an imperial inn, and have priority in room choices. As well, the bearers could freely rent carriages, horses, and any other services they might require. Ordinary people, even if rich, weren¡¯t supposed to have access to them. Until now, Bessa assumed Edana¡¯s pass had come from the Star Dragons. Edana snickered. ¡°Connections can get you a lot. My pass came courtesy of a different official. If I¡¯m asked, he¡¯s a client whose wife likes the silver I sell. Honestly, I wasn¡¯t jesting about using a cover that¡¯s actually true. No one should be suspicious of anything, or ask questions that lead to answers I didn¡¯t want them to have. And now you have a pass, too. We¡¯re both above suspicion. Let¡¯s not waste that.¡±
The next morning they resumed their journey, and spent the next two days moving as fast as possible to the southeast, and the shores of the Viridian. Along the way Edana pointed the places where she had bought some of the fine gifts she¡¯d given the Philomelos family. In turn, Bessa bought a few things she sent back to Silura, particularly to Grandmother and Grandfather Pendry. On the third day they came to the Rhabdomachaeum. The school stood tall and imposing, with a marble fa?ade, and a glass dome rising from the center of its central wing. Inside, the floor of the main hall was tiled with a massive mosaic depicting the school¡¯s founder, Dagomarus the Bold standing with his arms folded, wand in hand, and one boot on the neck of a massive black stallion with flames coming out of its mouth. The sight of the mosaic stopped Edana in her tracks. ¡°One would think you¡¯d seen a dragon you look so surprised,¡± Bessa said. But Edana caught the eye of a passing student, and thus she asked, ¡°What is that horse? With fire coming out of its mouth?¡± The student, a suave-looking young man in a smart green tunic, sidled up to her. ¡°Oh, that? A morvarc¡¯h. The way the legend goes, the monster used to terrorize the coast of northern Sir?nasse. Until good ol¡¯ Dagomarus put a sword to it, that is.¡± You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡°What¡¯s so special about it it to you, Edana?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°I¡¯m certain I¡¯ve seen this before¡­¡± However, at that moment the headmaster¡¯s secretary fetched them and ushered them into his office. The headmaster allowed them to see Pippa and Lenora. The girls hugged Bessa so fiercely they nearly knocked her over. ¡°They say there was a battle with giants. Were you there, too?¡± Pippa demanded. She cocked her head and stared intently at Bessa. Bessa confirmed her guess, and rewarded her cousin¡¯s curiosity with an edited version of the battle¡­and insisted the girls learn mounted shooting. ¡°Don¡¯t assume you¡¯ll never need to shoot or throw something from the back of a moving gryphon. Or a horse,¡± she said, adding the latter animal after a moment¡¯s thought. The girls solemnly assured her they had every intention of learning battle tactics. While Bessa talked to the girls, Edana spoke to the headmaster and a few of the senior staff. Thankfully, they had heard about the Battle of Red Pointe, which made them very attentive when Edana explained about the giants¡¯ tactics and vulnerabilities. She exhorted them to speak to Pegasus Primes Senovara and Roswald. When she finished talking, she presented them with a few of the thunder maces, explaining her hope that they could find a way to counter their power¡ªor make a few of their own. As she hoped, the sorcerers were invigorated by the challenge she¡¯d presented them. ¡°Let us incorporate all of this into our lesson plans with the advanced students,¡± one senior magistra said to the chief magister. The other teachers nodded vigorously in agreement. Edana smiled. Instinct told her it would be wise to get as large a pool of sorcerers as possible to collaborate and research fighting the giants. Perhaps their archives contained the information Lady Nensela was seeking. The teachers would know how to search for it, and were likely to do so now that Edana had given them the impetus. She had been so focused on the duke¡ªand reuniting with Bessa, she now admitted to herself¡ªthat she had missed such an obvious strategy on her first trip through. Bessa¡¯s idea of talking to everyone who would listen and involving them in defensive plans inspired her. Bessa was right, the faction supporting the giants had to work in the shadows. Spreading the truth would spread the light, which Edana now believed would strengthen their faction. Once assured all was well at the school, and that the sorcerers were added to their arsenal, they continued on. Lady Nensela¡¯s warning remained at the forefront of Edana¡¯s mind. On a hunch she checked in with Senovara. Strange men had come to Falcon¡¯s Hollow, the pegasus prime reported. The men insisted on asking after ¡®Donna,¡¯ and her whereabouts. Immediately upon hearing that heart-stopping news, Edana asked about the Philomelos family. Thank the Speaker, Senovara assured her Bessa¡¯s family suffered no further attacks. As for the men, their strange behavior obliged them to leave town before sundown. Edana brooded all the way to Asil¡¯est. Already she¡¯d endangered Bessa¡¯s family. What could she do about it? At least Bessa had fortified her estate¡¯s security. Now sorcerers joined the ranks of her guards. But should she keep Bessa involved in her mission, given the known dangers? Doubt nagged at her, tugging at her conscience, and no defense came readily to her mind. Obviously, the best possible outcome for Bessa would be if this Lysander was home, or nearby. Failing that, Edana would settle for a solid lead on where to find him. Then Bessa would have to leave the mission behind, and she would be safe. ¡°Let it be so,¡± Edana pleaded to the Speaker. So much did her fears preoccupy her that she failed to notice Bessa growing more and more quiet as they approached Asil¡¯est. However, when they were within two days of the city, Bessa hired a messenger to give notice to the Xenakis estate that she would call upon it. Her hands shook as she tried to write, and her thoughts were disordered; Edana was obliged to write the note on her behalf. Later, Bessa awakened Edana in the middle of the night with her pacing. Finally, when Bessa rejected her breakfast, pushing her bowl of chestnut porridge away from herself, Edana asked her a question. ¡°I don¡¯t know. No wait, that¡¯s not true,¡± Bessa said. ¡°I am worried.¡± ¡°About what? Lysander? Perhaps he won¡¯t be there,¡± Edana said. Did she sound sincere? There was always the next-best case, where they simply learned his whereabouts. It was this that allowed her to feign nonchalance when she ventured, ¡°You have more time to prepare to meet him, if you need to.¡± ¡°Yes¡­¡± Edana arched an eyebrow and waited expectantly. As she watched, Bessa toyed with her spoon, and then with her hair. Finally, she took a deep breath. ¡°Did your parents talk about marrying you off to anyone?¡± ¡°Mama gushed about finding me a husband the day she gave me my first long chiton, but Papa insisted there was no rush. Other than that, no.¡± ¡°So you will choose for yourself then,¡± Bessa said, almost inaudibly. Oh. So this was why Bessa was out of sorts. ¡°Is that what you¡¯re worried about? That your grandmother didn¡¯t choose well? To be honest, I¡¯m surprised that you question her judgment on this. She loves you and she¡¯s wise, and I don¡¯t think she would choose anyone you couldn¡¯t bear to be married to.¡± That was sincere. Edana did have faith in Matrona Aurelia¡¯s love for Bessa, and in her judgment. ¡°I know,¡± Bessa said slowly. ¡°But he¡¯s still a stranger. What should I expect? Now we¡¯re going to see his family. Possibly. Maybe only the servants will be there. But I can¡¯t help it, I am worried. Suppose he¡¯s there? I don¡¯t know if I want to meet him yet. Does that sound strange?¡± Edana took a moment to answer. If she were any true friend, she should convince Bessa that meeting Lysander and marrying him on the spot was the absolute best thing to do. But Bessa was speaking to her heart to heart. And trusted her to answer accordingly. ¡°Well¡­if you did meet him now, what do you think would happen?¡± The question seemed to un-stopper whatever feelings Bessa kept bottled up, because the words came out in a rush. ¡°Should I even marry him? Right now, at a time like this? Without my family? When giants can kill us all at any moment? The only reason I¡¯m going to Lysander now is because my grandparents are driven by fear for me. Fair enough, because I¡¯m driven by fear for them. Fear is driving everything here, and I can¡¯t trust decisions made out of fear.¡± Fear is driving me, too. Suddenly, Edana felt as if she¡¯d been jolted awake after a long slumber. ¡°Leaving my family might have been the worst mistake of my life,¡± Bessa continued, an unmistakable tremor in her voice. ¡°If the giants kill them, I will have lost this time with them. Yet if I were home, what could I do to stop it from happening? Going with you, to this Lady Nensela, is the only useful thing I can do about my fear. I couldn¡¯t do anything for my vinedressers. All I could do was run from the giants. I even left you behind!¡± Bessa¡¯s anguish pierced Edana¡¯s conscience. Fear had been her master long enough. Now she must toss it aside, and speak from her own heart. ¡°For over a year after the massacre I would see my mother as I left her,¡± Edana began. ¡°As I abandoned her. I left her to the gryphon; I didn¡¯t even try to drag her away with me. Every day since I¡¯ve hated myself for it. Over and over again I told myself if I hadn¡¯t panicked I would have found a way to save her. What kind of daughter was I?¡± An expression of eloquent horror came over Bessa¡¯s face, but Edana shook her head when she started to speak. ¡°You helped me,¡± Edana said quietly. ¡°That night in your vineyard, I told you to run. When you ran, I didn¡¯t think you abandoned me. Never. I was at peace because I knew you were escaping to safety. That was all I cared about. And now I see the massacre from my parents¡¯ side.¡± Bessa leapt up from her chair and rushed over to Edana. In silence they sat, clasped together in a fierce embrace. After a while, Edana spoke, shifting the conversation back to Lysander. Gently she suggested that as a red gryphon in the legion, it was unlikely Lysander was unambitious, or uninterested in the glory of defending the empire from formidable enemies. ¡°We could use his help, if he¡¯s able to give it. Every ally we can gather will be valuable, and having a red gryphon in our corner would only be a good thing. Helping us will be his duty, as well as his honor. You understand that, surely? So, I think that is not the heart of what troubles you.¡± Edana watched as Bessa squared her shoulders, the sign of her old friend mentally girding herself. ¡°All of the most important choices I might make are out of my hands. It¡¯s as if I¡¯m a bystander, or a character in one of my own stories. And I¡¯m¡ªscared¡ªthat I¡¯m walking on the edge of a cliff. One wrong step, and down I fall. Does that make sense?¡± ¡°Yes. But, Bessa, sometimes you are acted upon. Sometimes the choices will be made for you. And sometimes your only option is just to survive. You can¡¯t adapt, you can¡¯t make choices, unless you survive. You need to trust that you will survive. Let me point out something to you,¡± Edana said. She shared with Bessa what she¡¯d realized at the Rhabdomachaeum about enlisting allies. ¡°I think you have good instincts. Trust them. They¡¯ve led us right so far. That many people died at Red Pointe doesn¡¯t change that. The duke¡¯s treachery, and the consequences, it¡¯s just one of the things we can¡¯t control. What we can do is keep to the mission, and let everything flow from there.¡±
With Edana¡¯s advice lodged in her heart, Bessa serenely crossed the gates of the Xenakis estate. To her relief, none of her future in-laws were home ¡­ nor was her future husband. However, from what she saw of the estate and the servants, she formed an impression of them. For one, she noted Lord Xenakis allowed his household staff to wear comfortable grades of wool and linen. Always she judged people by how they clothed their household slaves, as she regarded it as the height of pettiness to keep them in coarse, itchy fabrics. The slaves did not simper or cower, which meant Lord Xenakis did not terrorize them. Did he pass his kindness on to his son? The marble busts of illustrious ancestors Lord Xenakis kept on display emphasized that her dowry was the prime motivation for him to wed her to his son. Her family did not match his in stature; her prosperous estate merely made her respectable. Unfortunately, the stewards did not know Lysander¡¯s exact whereabouts, only that he was leading a detachment in the East. Bessa asked them to contact either Aurelia or Lady Nensela if they should learn anything more definite. Before she left, Bessa made a point of giving the estate¡¯s guards a few of the weapons and spells her grandparents had made. This shocked the chief guardsman. As well, the estate¡¯s stewardess dropped to her knees and kissed Bessa¡¯s ring. To show their gratitude they gave her an itinerarium, which listed the locations of the stopover houses Lord Xenakis kept between the estate and his house in Delmore. Moreover, they refused to allow her to leave before loading her up with provisions for her trip, especially little delicacies that were the specialties of the cook. ¡°You are their future mistress; I suppose they wanted to make a good impression on you,¡± Edana laughed, after she looked through the baskets and inventoried the impressive bounty. The first basket was loaded with wine, cheese, bread, jellies, cakes, and meat pies. The slaves even included jars of starflower honey and violet-infused honey, both of which Bessa would later pour for the cheese and fruit they snacked on to hold hunger at bay. In a separate basket the servants also included toiletries, which they produced on the estate. Dandelion unguent made with beeswax and olive oil for chapped lips or sore muscles. The spicy scent from an alabaster bottle announced the presence of soapwort. Edana unstoppered the bottle, and inhaled the additional perfume of wildflowers. ¡°Hopefully I made a good impression on them, too,¡± Bessa said. ¡°You gave them the means to defend themselves. That should secure a great deal of loyalty, I¡¯d think,¡± Edana said dryly. She replaced the stopper in the soap bottle, then resettled the bottle in the basket. ¡°And I¡¯m sure your father-in-law would think well of you for looking after his people.¡± Finally they came to the fortress of Asil¡¯est, where they met the aether who was expecting them. He gladly welcomed the thunder maces and scythes they brought. Early in the evening they finally reached the port, and this time Bessa fluttered with excitement. In spite of Uncle Morivassus and Aunt Nerissa, she had never traveled anywhere via ship before. She paused to take in the view of the sea. Viridian was a worthy name. The water was a remarkable green, and the white foam of the waves looked inviting enough that the little girl within her spirit fervently wished to frolic in them. Bessa heroically resisted, concentrating instead on the ships crowding the harbor. So many possibilities swirled in her mind. What would Kyanopolis look like? And of course it was on another continent, Amanareia, which itself held wonders. She smiled brightly in anticipation of the fabled land. However, at a market stall Bessa was mystified when Edana bought a large stalk of root, brown and gnarled. Ginger, she called it. Not native to Silura, and thus Bessa asked what it was for. ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡± A hostel near the quay served as their base. From there they found the offices of Nerissa¡¯s shipping company, and learned they were still in time to catch the Kyane¡¯s Rest. ¡°Tomorrow we leave, if all goes well with wind and tide,¡± the shipmaster assured them. This condition accorded with what Bessa¡¯s aunt and uncle had told her about sailing and shipping. Still, even if the weather cooperated, the Sea Lord must be appeased. Therefore, Bessa burnt an incense offering to Him of costly styrax resin, myrrh, and roses. With everything else going on, she hardly cared to risk incurring the wrath of His children, the sea dragons.
As they listened out for the herald¡¯s cry the next day Edana gave Bessa a small pouch to tie valuables around her neck. If they should die in the voyage, and if their bodies should make it to shore, the pouch¡¯s contents would aid whoever found them in paying for their burial. It was the custom of sea travel, and Bessa wryly agreed it was sensible. Kyane¡¯s Rest, at nearly two hundred feet, carried aboard six hundred passengers besides the crew. As Aunt Nerissa warned Bessa, most passengers slept on the decks, in tentlike shelters. The shelters were divided into sections, the men and youths traveling alone in one part, and women and children in another. The cabin Aunt Nerissa reserved for them allowed just enough space for their luggage and their bunk. The guards were obliged to sleep in shifts in the single men¡¯s quarters when they went off duty. As they got underway, Bessa quickly understood why Edana dispatched a slave to make them a tisane of hot ginger water almost as soon as they came aboard. Bessa could not bear to leave her bunk until she¡¯d consumed two entire cups. Having already acquired her sea legs, Edana played nursemaid. However, attempts to get Bessa to open her eyes and try walking were all in vain, until the captain sent an invitation to join him on the deck. Edana insisted Bessa come with her, on the basis that she would recover faster if she were looking at the horizon. Even so, Bessa still needed convincing. ¡°What if you need to put a sea captain in your stories? This is research, Bessa,¡± Edana teased. That did it. Captain Tal Asher offered refreshments when they joined him, but only Edana partook. Keeping to her hot ginger water, Bessa abstained. The Captain recognized Edana as one of his countrywomen, and gregariously loosed a volley of questions when they joined him on the deck. He was full of sympathy when he learned Edana had never seen the land of her forefathers. ¡°Your accent sounds as if you are from the Last Lands, and you have one of their names, not ours,¡± Captain Asher observed. Edana stiffened, as if on her guard. Bessa, who had been reclining on a long settee, sat up straighter and fixed a wary eye on the captain. ¡°Yes, my father settled there, since his legion was in Sir?nasse when he was finally released from the army. His friend, Bessa¡¯s father, invited him to stay with his family in Silura. It was only supposed to be temporary, but then he discovered my mother was living there¡ªshe once helped them on a mission in Tartessia. Mama was from Yriel.¡± Captain Asher¡¯s eyes brightened. ¡°Was your father one of the Taken?¡± Edana gave a start. ¡°The Taken¡­?¡± Captain Asher leaned closer to her, as if sharing a secret. ¡°That¡¯s what my parents and their generation call them,¡± he explained. ¡°About thirty years ago the Beast, an officer with the rank of draco hydra, swept through the Blue Crescent and conscripted several young men. No one saw them again, not for years. Some, like your father, never came home at all. That must have been hard for him.¡± Silent, Edana sat motionless, staring at the horizon. ¡°Snatched. Taken from his home. Why didn¡¯t I¡ª¡± with a start she cut herself off, as if remembering where she was. ¡°Ahem. As you say, he did not make it home. Bandits killed him on our way to Eitan. Along with Mama, and everyone else in our caravan.¡± What she heard in Edana¡¯s voice obliged Bessa to rescue her. Therefore she asked, ¡°Wait, wait, wait. What is this ¡®Eitan¡¯ you speak of? Didn¡¯t your father just make up that name for stories? You know: far, far away, and long, long ago?¡± The captain and Edana exchanged a glance. Sounding apologetic Edana explained, ¡°Papa did like to embellish the stories, but Eitan is the true name of his country. Terabinth is the name the Pelasgians gave it, because those trees are all over the place. The Rasena Valentians adopted that name from the Pelasgians. You notice that Captain Asher called Silura the ¡®Last Lands?¡¯ Most of the Rasena Valentians from all over the empire call Silura that, and you have to remind them of the actual name.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± Captain Asher said, turning his attention to Bessa. ¡°And my apologies to you, miss, I meant no disrespect. Of all people I should know better! By now I¡¯ve accepted that most people call us Terebinthians, so I¡¯ve learned to use my country¡¯s name as code: if you know it, you¡¯re one of us. If you don¡¯t, you¡¯re one of them. A lot of people back home will make a point of being greatly offended if you use the wrong name. Good thing your friend knows our true name, because many of those same people will reject her as one of us simply because of her name. It¡¯s too, ah, foreign.¡± The captain turned his full attention on Edana, and his gaze softened a bit. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you have a second name?¡± Edana looked down at her wine cup and Bessa stared at her, fascinated. Never before did Edana blush. Not where her second name was concerned, anyway. ¡°It¡¯s Shifra,¡± Edana said, peeking up at the captain from beneath her lashes. He smiled, and patted her hand reassuringly. How forward, Bessa thought, but Edana did not appear offended. ¡°Your father was not wrong to call you beautiful,¡± Asher said. ¡°It¡¯s something a father would say,¡± Edana deflected. ¡°Well, not only a father, little sister,¡± the captain insisted. Little sister, Bessa noted, as she took in the meaning of Shifra and the reason it embarrassed Edana. Inwardly she was amused; clearly the captain wanted to emphasize that he was not old enough to be Edana¡¯s father. Allowing herself a small smile, Bessa pictured how exciting it would be for Edana to marry a sea captain, and explore all over the world with him. Then she remembered Lady Nensela¡¯s family, and she sobered. Perhaps Asher could retire and they travel overland instead? Ah, but Edana¡¯s family was massacred on an overland trip. The obvious lesson pained her: no choice offered a guarantee of protection. Her vinedressers¡ªwinegrowers¡ªwere cut down in their own homes. Obviously, safety could not be the paramount consideration for how to live one¡¯s life. So, what would make Edana happy while she lived? Returning from her reverie, Bessa caught Edana¡¯s deepening blush. ¡°Our nations have much in common,¡± Bessa observed. ¡°My grandparents disapprove of my name, as do others in their part of Silura. I thought distrusting outsiders was unique to my country. But if the Nuriels had made it back to yours, what would it have meant for Edana? Would they consider her an outsider?¡± The captain stroked his beard and looked thoughtful as he answered. ¡°Not necessarily. The Blue Crescent, where I¡¯m guessing her father was from since he was one of the Taken, is a huge trading port. They¡¯re used to outsiders, and can live and let live. Even her mother could have been comfortable there. It¡¯s the inland folks who might give her a hard time. They would make an exception if she knows the Sayings of Truth, but otherwise, forget it.¡± ¡°But in the coastlands she could be herself?¡± The captain smiled again. ¡°She should be herself regardless. Maybe it¡¯s the sailor in me, but I refuse to turn myself inside out just to please some stranger. Do this or that custom just so, or you can¡¯t be one of us. No, no, to the Darkness with all of that.¡± He drained his wine cup. The women waited, and he continued after a moment. ¡°Of course, that¡¯s just me. My ship is a country unto itself, and I make the customs here. Edana¡ªOptima Nuriel¡ªshould make her own decision. And it¡¯s easy for me to take my home for granted, because it¡¯s in my blood and I did grow up there. I know how it¡¯s shaped me. But it¡¯s a different matter for young Optima Nuriel.¡± He again focused on Edana, and again his gaze softened. ¡°You owe it to yourself to take a trip home. You will not regret it. It¡¯s worth it, warts and all.¡± Edana accepted this with good grace, and assured him she had every intention of going there. For some time they sat in relaxed silence. Then, Edana asked a question that she and Bessa had wondered about, ever since Aunt Nerissa mentioned the possibility. ¡°A portal? On a ship? Hmm. Well, you could have one. But it would have to be a small portal.¡± Captain Asher furrowed his brow as he considered it. ¡°Small rules out an army using it, though, not if the goal is to transport everyone stealthy and quick. A scouting party, sure. But the real question is, where¡¯s the second portal? The ship has one, where¡¯s the other one? I¡¯m not sure a portal could take you anywhere except a second portal. In ancient days, maybe, during the Seven Gates Era. But now?¡± Edana and Bessa exchanged a look. So a portal on a ship was indeed possible. It might explain how the giants managed to arrive at Red Pointe in secret. "Let''s discuss this later, with Lady Nensela," Edana suggested later, when they returned to their cabin. "Looking forward to it," Bessa agreed. Chapter 16: Nensela XVI Nensela In which they join Nensela They arrived in Kyanopolis five days later. The city gleamed gold in the sunlight as the Kyane¡¯s Rest approached it in the early afternoon. For miles and miles the city¡¯s shoreline stretched on, and Bessa smiled as she thought of the days she could spend in endless exploration. Even White Cliff had not seemed so grand, and it was the grandest city in Silura. Before they disembarked Edana brought forth a parasol from her luggage. Bessa followed her example, but not until after they disembarked did she feel the heat. She gasped for breath, astonished by the sultriness of the air. Several times she closed her eyes, shocked by the brightness of the sun. Thereafter, she steadfastly remained beneath her parasol. A scryer in Lady Nensela¡¯s service had arranged for a covered carriage to meet them at the docks. Though shaded now, Bessa still felt the heat. Sweat soaked her linen handkerchief in mere minutes. In desperation she took a waterskin one of the slaves had filled on the ship, and splashed her face with water. So this was why Siluran travelers compared the lands of Amanareia to a furnace. ¡°Look,¡± Edana said, inclining her head to the city. Bessa glanced out of the curtains, then stilled, transfixed. Her hand, burdened with the handkerchief, fell to her lap as she momentarily forgot her discomfort. Bessa immediately ranked Kyanopolis as the finest city she had been to thus far. Traffic flowed through three great arteries throughout the city. The city itself was carved out of the luscious green Mount Adamant, and the greenness was echoed in the roof tiles of the buildings scattered throughout. No¡ªnot scattered, Bessa amended to herself. Rasena Valentians were fond of order, and the evidence was before her, in their attempt to lay out Kyanopolis in a grid pattern, the terrain notwithstanding. In the central square stood an ancient statue of Kyane, the naiad in whose name Kyanopolis was dedicated. She was seated in a ¡®palm throne,¡¯ a throne sculpted to resemble the canopies of the trees that gave much-needed shade throughout Kyanopolis. Flamingos, rendered in pink marble, sat at her bare feet and stroked their graceful necks against her legs. In one hand the naiad held a lotus, symbolizing the springs that made life bloom on the mountain. Legend had it that Kyane¡¯s pegasus created those springs when its hooves touched the ground. Bessa¡¯s heart did somersaults when they passed a theater. Frescoes illustrating a famous Pelasgian comedy decorated one wall of the graceful building. Seeing her excitement Edana smiled, and told her that the theater was just one of four they could attend in Kyanopolis. ¡°How remarkable this city seems!¡± Bessa said. ¡°You must love it here. Do you think we¡¯ll have any free time?¡± From the way Edana clasped the folds of her gown, Bessa knew she was tense. Her excitement subsided a bit as she wondered why. ¡°Is there something you haven¡¯t told me?¡± ¡°Only that Lady Nensela said we needed to be far from Silura as fast as possible, before all the details emerged about the duke¡¯s downfall. Whether or not you should try to find Lysander, for your own sake, is what I am anxious about now. I haven¡¯t forgotten Matrona¡¯s wishes.¡± Bessa¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Do not forget my vow, either. I am not leaving you. This is no time for weddings. And do not assume I need to be protected. We¡¯re together in this, so I share the burden, too.¡± Though Edana nodded, Bessa was unsure of her commitment. If Lady Nensela insisted Bessa had to go, would Edana agree? But the oppressive heat won out over worry, and drowsiness overtook her. A soft breeze awakened her. The scent of pine filled her nose. Pine? She sat up in surprise, and saw at last the forest of pine trees they were traveling through. Where was the city? She wasn¡¯t about to complain; the coolness of the shade provided some relief from the merciless sun. ¡°Lady Nensela lives in a suburb,¡± Edana said, answering her unspoken question. ¡°I think she originally wanted the isolation. She was grieving when I first met her¡ªwell, I think she still is¡ªbut she¡¯s also a Seeker¡¯s Own, so she¡¯s sought after for that reason alone. The way she sees it, forcing people to make an effort to see her cuts down on the frivolous visitors with petty problems.¡± The carriage stopped when they reached a high stucco wall with an ornate iron gate with a theme of roses and sylphs. The guard standing at attention recognized Edana, and opened the gate for them. Bessa paused when she saw the house inside the gate. It was most curious: three stories high, with the same hexagon shape and domed top she associated with oracula. No windows pierced the lower levels of the fa?ade of pale yellow marble. Vassinassan marble, much-coveted by the moneyed set. The doors were tall, fashioned of bronze and rubbed with oil. Ebony statues of life-sized sphinxes flanked the door. Sphinxes, a reminder of Ta-Seti, where the creatures could be found when they did not otherwise dwell in the fabled land of Athyr-ai. Gold plated their faces, and their eyes flashed citrine. Curiosity drove Bessa to move closer to examine them. Their eyes moved. Bessa gasped. Animachina! Questions exploded in her mind, of who constructed the living machines, and what powers their maker bestowed upon them. When asked, Edana could only speak to the incredible speed at which the sentries flew on their night patrols. The doors swung open, seemingly of their own accord. Four bearded men with braided hair came out, followed by a fifth whose graceful bearing suggested he wielded authority. He alone spoke to the women. ¡°Welcome back, Edana Nuriel. You will find Lady Nensela in the library.¡± He turned to Bessa, and opened his arm. ¡°Greetings, Optima Philomelos. I extend to you welcome on behalf of my lady Nensela. Let this home be your home.¡± Clasping her hands together Bessa replied, ¡°Thank you. I feel welcome already.¡± Edana introduced the elder man as Keymaster Hanno, the steward Lady Nensela placed over her household, and ¡°kept the house running smoothly.¡± Per Edana¡¯s request, the slaves removed a particular trunk from the carriage first. The trunk with the thunder maces, of course, which she never allowed to stay far from her hand while they traveled. The steward ushered them inside. Honey-colored Vassinassan marble tiled the walls and floors of the large, round entryway. The entryway itself was constructed like a cage cup, but with staircases curving out of sight between the inner and outer layers. One staircase ascended to their right, and the other descended to their left. In the center of the room stood an ebony statue of the Seeker, Mother of Seers. A yellow sunburst medallion tessellated into the tile floor surrounded the statue, highlighting it. Nearby, a red sandstone altar depicted the Seeker and Her alliance in carved reliefs. Wisps of perfume drew Bessa to an embossed silver box on the altar. Inside the box, she found only scraps of the sacred flowers and herbs used for burnt offerings. Glowlights suspended from the high ceiling provided the only light inside; there weren¡¯t even clerestory windows. Emphasizing Lady Nensela¡¯s apparent desire to isolate herself from the outside world. To Bessa¡¯s surprise, Edana turned to the left. Bessa arched an eyebrow. Hadn¡¯t Hanno said Lady Nensela was in the library? Why go to her cellar? After hearing so much about her, Bessa was impatient to meet the seer. Nevertheless, when Edana jerked her head to the stairs, indicating she should follow, she followed. And was promptly astonished. The house was underground! The stairs took them to a subterranean atrium. At first the features seemed familiar, especially the tiled impluvium in the center. The impluvium, a shallow rectangular basin, was typical for a Rasena Valentian-style house, albeit this one was lined with mosaic tiles and not marble. In Bessa¡¯s home and in other parts of the empire, the pool sat below an opening in the roof, which would be slanted to allow rain water to pour into the pool, before draining into a cistern below. The opening in the roof allowed sunlight into the atrium, and the water in the impluvium would help cool the house in the summer. But in Lady Nensela¡¯s house, bright red columns with lotus capitals arose from the perimeter of the basin. The columns supported short walls high above. Constructed of brick, each of the walls featured two strange, hexagon-shaped holes which redistributed light and fresh air to the rooms adjacent to the atrium. In spite of being open to the elements the underground atrium felt remarkably cooler. So much so that Bessa cheered at the realization she would not sweat out every drop of water in her body. ¡°Incredible,¡± Bessa exclaimed. ¡°How did Lady Nensela come up with this idea of putting the house underground? It¡¯s a brilliant idea.¡± She ran her hands along one of the columns and studied the hexagon holes in the walls above them. So this was a lightwell, a structure her father detailed in his engineering manuals. Overhead, from one end of the lightwell to the other, a canopy of linen and cotton filtered sunlight. Thus what could have been a harsh, blinding glare was now softened and tolerable. Edana smiled. ¡°Actually, underground rooms are typical in this part of Rasena Valentis. Other homes in Kyanopolis are built this way, too. You¡¯ll see.¡± ¡°This is something to write home about,¡± Bessa judged. A scent tickled their noses. Roasted quail. Appetites whetted, they followed the scent down a corridor, where they came to the library. The courtyard¡¯s sunlight spilled into the room, casting long shadows onto the mosaic floor in the entryway. Once again Bessa paused, this time to study the mosaic¡¯s depiction of an adventure featuring Kyane and her asrai attendants. Tridents in hand, the nymphs swam toward a lamia lurking on the shore of the marshlands. Meanwhile, on the shore a young priestess prepared for battle. The arrow notched in her bow was unusual: its arrowhead was obscured by a blazing white light. Holy magic, aimed straight for the serpent woman. By her coloring and the use of a bow, Bessa guessed the priestess was Ta-Setian. The immortals were renowned for their skill in archery. Beyond this floor mosaic, the library proper awaited them. Bessa halted in her tracks. Before her the entry opened onto a spacious, circular room. The room itself consisted of two levels, topped by a dome with a painted ceiling. Sunlight fell through the dome¡¯s oculus onto the rosy marble floor directly below. Surrounding this generous open space were eight alcoves of codex cabinets on the lower level. The entrance to each alcove was marked by a sigil inlaid in the marble floor. Inside the alcoves the cabinets glowed a faint green, indicating they were enchanted against nature. Neither fire nor vermin could threaten Lady Nensela¡¯s collection. On the second level, eight arches formed an arcade marked by marble caryatids that reached the first floor. Stark white granite made up the stone balconies that overlooked the central part of the library. However, what enchanted Bessa, what made her gasp in awe, was the kithara resting on its own pedestal between two alcoves. Like a lyre, two horn-like arms rose up on either side of a sound box, joined together by a tuning bar where the instrument¡¯s strings were fastened to bronze tuning pegs. Nine strings, Bessa noted¡ªLady Nensela must be good, having gone beyond the more typical seven. Unlike a lyre, though, each of the kithara¡¯s arms were surmounted by a post attached via springs, with a cradle at the bottom of the post allowing the tuning bar to rest upon it. Manipulating the posts allowed players to produce wondrous sounds. Ordinary enough, for a kithara. What made Bessa¡¯s heart somersault was the instrument¡¯s material: carved of a silky, shimmery wood, the kithara¡¯s sound box was inlaid with blue abalone. Abalone fashioned into an arresting image of a pair of sylphs flanking the strings. Legend spoke of such an instrument. Hurrying over to it, Bessa confirmed her hopes. As the legend promised, up close the kithara¡¯s lacquer carried a pearlescent sheen which tinged the wood a subtle cornflower blue. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Dream-spinner! This is a dreamwood kithara isn¡¯t it, Edana?¡± ¡°Indeed. Lady Nensela said the color comes from crushed blue pearls mixed into the lacquer.¡± By Papouli¡¯s knee Bessa had learned of the dreamwood trees, so-called because the oneiroi¡ªdream sylphs¡ªfavored them as resting places. Thus, an item fashioned of dreamwood yielded prophetic dreams to those who used them. But the dreamwood trees were lost before the Seven Gates Era, during a disaster forever after known as ¡°the Sea Lord¡¯s Wrath.¡± An earthquake destroyed the island civilization of Amathus where the trees flourished, and a titanic ocean wave wiped out what was left. Well over two thousand years ago... ¡°Before you ask, I don¡¯t know the tale behind this kithara,¡± Edana said. ¡°Some things Lady Nensela does not say of herself. All I know is how sad her eyes looked when I asked about it.¡± With one wistful glance at the priceless treasure, Bessa resumed the quest to find the source of the delicious aroma. At the far end of the library, an open doorway led to a smaller room, where they found a cluster of reclining sofas arranged around a smaller table. Someone had set up silver pitchers, cups, and platters of food. Here their quest ended. Only when they reached the gathering area did Bessa see the stairs running along the right side of the room, leading to parts unknown. And also, the woman. She stood at the top of the stairs, a wax tablet in hand. Standing so still that Bessa thought her catlike, surveying them without a sound or a hint of her presence. Was it ever possible for Lady Nensela to be taken by surprise, as a Seeker¡¯s Own? Certainly the seer surprised her, even as she met Bessa¡¯s expectations. The stark white pleats of Lady Nensela¡¯s linen dress contrasted with the smooth, oil-rubbed bronze of her skin. Her face was a sculptor¡¯s dream, with well-defined features. She kept her midnight hair in a series of slim plaits that fascinated Bessa, and gathered the plaits into one large braid down to her shoulder blades. Like many prophets she wore an azure stone, hers set in a white-gold circlet of delicate chains. White-gold coils, terminating in stylized lynx heads, gleamed around her upper arms. Lady Nensela regarded Bessa steadily. Her large eyes reminded Bessa of her grandfather¡¯s obsidian surgical knives: sharp, keen, and well-able to probe her depths. Bessa returned her forthright stare, but inside her nervousness returned. What did the seer See? What would she decree? The intensity of Lady Nensela¡¯s gaze unnerved her, and she fleetingly wondered if the prophet foresaw an evil consequence for her. Yet Edana looked unperturbed, suggesting she saw nothing ominous in Lady Nensela¡¯s demeanor. Lady Nensela held out a hand, a silent invitation for Bessa to come closer. Unconsciously, Bessa obeyed her. When the prophet spoke, it took Bessa a few moments to take in the words. The seer¡¯s accent reminded her in some ways of Aunt Nerissa, so liquid and hypnotic. ¡°Be at ease, and be welcome. In this day I am called Nensela Sideris. I am pleased to see you well, Bessa Philomelos.¡± It took five heartbeats for Bessa to find her own voice. ¡°Um. Did you¡­See something?¡± Lady Nensela smiled, flashing white teeth. ¡°With regards to you? Trouble yourself not, child; I foresee no evils for you as yet. Let me welcome back Edana, and we shall speak.¡± Embracing like old friends, Edana and Lady Nensela revealed a camaraderie that put Bessa at ease. No longer did she doubt Edana had lived well with Lady Nensela. That she gave Edana succor through the worst pain of her life endeared the seer to Bessa. One of Lady Nensela¡¯s slaves was already pouring drinks for them when they came to the refreshment table. At a gesture from her mistress the slave girl offered a wine cup to Bessa. ¡°People from the Far North do not easily take to the heat of Kyanopolis. Adapting takes time,¡± Lady Nensela said. ¡°Try this, and be refreshed.¡± Taking the cup, Bessa tasted for the first time palm date wine from Ta-Seti. It was refreshing, and she gave her compliments to Lady Nensela. The roasted quail, marinated in a wine and cherry sauce, was every bit as delicious as the aroma had promised. When they were finished Lady Nensela led them back into her library, and a round table that dominated the eastern side of it. ¡°Were you able to find out anything?¡± Edana asked. ¡°About the giants? Or Murena? Nothing to the first, and as for the second, that is a matter of concern. This keystone you have, let me hold it.¡± True to Cingetissa¡¯s command, Edana kept the keystone in the kibisis, itself hidden inside her dress. She brought it out and handed it to Lady Nensela, along with her drawing of the glyph that appeared during Cingetissa¡¯s ¡°spirit talk.¡± Lady Nensela turned the stone over and over in her hands. The prophet maintained such a neutral, calm expression that Bessa could not be sure if she was sensing anything at all, let alone what she felt about it. A knot began to form in her stomach. What Cingetissa had told them left her uneasy. A man hated by the spirits was not a man she wished to meet. Especially not a man who was tied to a mysterious presence, and held a key to a world not their own. What did that mean? Were there really other worlds? Or ¡­ The moon. The agate moon, blue with swirls of white clouds. More importantly, the abode of the gods. Could the key open a door to Their world? But how could anyone have such a key, let alone a person the spirits hated? Once, long ago, Min¡¯da Nuriel warned her and Edana about sorcerers. They deal with abyssals¡ªfellshades. Including the sorcerers who claim they¡¯ve taken the Oath. Maybe a fellshade taught Murena how to make a key to the Moon Palace? But that made no sense. Would a fellshade have such knowledge? And would it allow a mere sorcerer to share in it? And, possessing such knowledge, why would Murena entrust the fruit of it to the duke? Was Murena a person? Bessa¡¯s stomach flipped. For the first time it occurred to her she¡¯d only assumed Murena was a being native to her own world. But celestial spirits would hate shadow fiends, and it would answer the question of how Murena could possibly have a key to another world. If Murena was indeed infernal¡ªhadn¡¯t Cingetissa said the Anointed were needed to deal with him?¡ªthe key likely led to a place she did not ever wish to go. Bessa looked up to see Lady Nensela regarding her with open concern. Quickly she straightened, and tried to regain her composure. She must not allow Lady Nensela to doubt her fitness for helping her and Edana. On no account would she permit herself to be sent away for her own protection; she wanted to help. Quietly Lady Nensela asked, ¡°This stone disturbs you? Good. You are wise to be afraid.¡± ¡°Is Murena a fellshade? An Erebossan?¡± Edana made a small yelp of surprise and stared sharply at her starsilk purse, as if seeing it for the first time. ¡°A rational hypothesis, after what Cingetissa told you: the key helps dodge a paralysis spell, did she not say? That means that beyond the door this key opens, there are intelligent and hostile beings. Then there is the kibisis you carry, which can blind the abyssals to its contents,¡± Lady Nensela said, pointing to the purse. ¡°Since your last message, I have sought lore of abyssals making keys to their realms. And one such tale have I found.¡± Edana sputtered, ¡°Wait¡ªwhat? Fellshades? Are you sure? Do they have bodies, like the arsh¡¯at?m? How can they give you things? The key is real, we can touch it, and the duke had it. Isn¡¯t it more likely Murena is a sorcerer, and maybe a fellshade he summoned told him how to make a key?¡± Lady Nensela placed the keystone on the table, carefully and precisely as if she were handling a vial of asrai¡¯s tears. ¡°That would change nothing, if so. If you believe the corran, and I do, this opens a door not within the Palace of Land and Sea. Therefore, either the creator of this key is not of this world, or the creator is in the service of one who is not of this world.¡± Silence. In response, Lady Nensela herself refilled Edana¡¯s wine cup, then Bessa¡¯s. Edana promptly drank from hers. ¡°The holder of the key must necessarily have a body,¡± Lady Nensela continued. ¡°Gagnon possessed this key, and the ease of his death suggests he was only a manservant of an abyssal. Not even an eidolon, for you¡¯ve not reported the dread consequences that follow when the living host of an abyssal is killed. As for Murena, we are back where we started: if the key leads to his home, he may be an abyssal. A ¡®fellshade,¡¯ as you say. If he is a man, then he might be a mortal agent of an abyssal. Potentially he is an eidolon, and ¡®Murena¡¯ is the true name of the abyssal inside the man. Either way, an abyssal is likely involved.¡± Again Lady Nensela let Edana digest her words in silence before continuing. ¡°Be assured, we shall not use this key. Not yet, not before we know exactly where it goes and how we may defend ourselves against whatever is there. And how to return here. What this key tells us is that the giants are not ordinary enemies. They may be native to our world, but their allies include entities that are not.¡± The shadows on the floor had lengthened; evening approached. Glowlights stationed in small niches throughout the room now winked on, giving pale gold light. A reminder they were underground¡­the abode of the eneroi: grim spirits, or imprisoned foes of the gods. ¡°And Gagnon¡¯s factions?¡± Edana demanded. ¡°Those initials I gave you? Do they belong to people?¡± She once again placed the key in her starsilk purse. Lady Nensela passed a sheet of papyrus to her. ¡°Justin Kellis, Rozvan Lior, Faenus Archelaos, Honoria Vartanian, and Ursinus Escamilla. All but one of these could be Murena, as Murena is a masculine by-name. I have searched the oracula registries with the star addresses you gave me. The results are illuminating.¡± All of the registrants went back eighteen months¡ªno further. They belonged to a variety of seemingly ordinary people: a clerk in the library of Karnassus, a sea captain, the governor of an eastern province, a woman who owned a brick-making concern, and a legate of the Watch in Valentis. ¡°Brick maker? So, these are cover stories then?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°Let us think this through: the success of Edana¡¯s cover lay in its veracity. Truly, she is a broker of silver. Our enemies may think the same way. So, in what way would a brick maker be useful?¡± Bessa considered her own estate, and how it worked. During the slower times, when they weren¡¯t cultivating vines, she put her staff to work making baskets and jars. Some of what they made became equipment, but the rest they sold to nearby farms, Falcon¡¯s Hollow residents, or travelers. However, the more talented of her potters worked with a master potter. In the last few years the Rasenan craftsman settled in Falcon¡¯s Hollow, and Bessa leased him a spot on her land to set up the kilns. His studio produced terra sigillata, glossy terra cotta pottery with fancy designs stamped into the clay. Procuring the potter and managing the production of the clay vessels was the first enterprise Bessa had ever been assigned to oversee. A responsibility Grandmother lay upon her the morning after her first bleed. The seriousness of her task made her feel quite mature. Also, Grandmother allowed Bessa the privilege of having her own name on the seals stamped into the vessels. At first Bessa was excited, but Grandmother then said, ¡°It will have your name, Bessa. People far and wide will associate your name with the quality of these vessels, whether the quality is good or bad. Keep that in mind.¡± ¡°She¡¯s the cover,¡± Bessa realized. ¡°Honoria might rent out her land to a contractor, who hires people to make, sell, and transport the bricks. The contractor is carrying out the real plans, and Honoria can plausibly plead innocent if he gets caught. He can be replaced¡ªand she can continue the conspiracy.¡± In the meantime, Bessa pointed out, the contractor could send people from all over Honoria¡¯s province and beyond. More, their jobs gave them a legitimate reason for being wherever they are found. ¡°But I suspect there¡¯s a particular place they need to be. What¡¯s under construction that Gagnon¡¯s people would want to get to?¡± Lady Nensela rewarded her with an approving nod. ¡°Indeed. Is Honoria Vartanian a knowing member of this conspiracy? Or merely a well-placed fool? Answers the Star Dragons seek even as we speak. Among other things.¡± ¡°And the other names?¡± Edana asked. ¡°The legate of the Watch in Valentis? After what Amelu told us, I have to wonder if the legate was the one engineering the silver market crisis in Valentis.¡± ¡°A most promising possibility,¡± Lady Nensela agreed. ¡°As legate of the Watch he lives in plain sight, above suspicion. The bearer of such a rank is always well connected, and his words would carry weight.¡± Edana¡¯s eyes darkened. ¡°If Draco Aether Escamilla is an agent of Erebossa it suggests what he was up to there: people need silver against Erebossi. And he was making sure the Valentians either didn¡¯t have it, or would have to go to certain sources to obtain any.¡± ¡°The Seeker be praised, for the Star Dragons tell me the fruits of your actions here averted a ritual meant to take place there on the winter solstice¡­a ritual that may have allowed an army of arsh¡¯at?m to enter this world. The people of Valentis would have been the first casualties of those monsters,¡± Lady Nensela said. ¡°By the Reaper,¡± Bessa whispered. ¡°And to think they were only saved because Edana wanted to come home so badly!¡± ¡°Do not discount the hands of the gods,¡± Lady Nensela exhorted. ¡°Was it only by chance an enterprising Valentian crossed Edana¡¯s path? As he lives in Valentis and carries a truth-seer¡¯s backing, he broke the silver monopoly held by the sorcerers allied with the abyssal fiend in Valentis. Atreus is very well connected. And hungry for prestige, and is not above showing an open hand.¡± She said this last with a little laugh. ¡°He passed out amulets like bread, didn¡¯t he?¡± Bessa said dryly. ¡°You have him,¡± Edana said, her lips curving. ¡°He told everyone it was because he has a duty to uphold the protection of the people of his city. The people love him for it. And suddenly, it became very important for certain of the dragon class to make friends with him.¡± Bessa recalled then, what Edana had asked when they were walking the isthmus: who would she turn to if she needed silver? For Valentians, Atreus had become their savior, rather than the sorcerers the Erebossi faction had likely intended. ¡°Is Atreus safe? From retaliation?¡± she asked. ¡°He realized on his own that something was amiss, so he always has his guards with him. And the Star Dragons are keeping an eye on him as well.¡± Edana pointed to another name on Lady Nensela¡¯s list. ¡°What about the cleric? A librarian could easily hide the history and lore scrolls you¡¯ve been looking for. Of course, he would also remove the works mentioning the manuscript you want. Maybe even put false leads in place¡ªand keep on the lookout for anyone making inquiries he doesn¡¯t want made.¡± Lady Nensela confessed, ¡°I crave retribution against Justin Kellis. His role in this offends me to my very core and I will rejoice in his defeat.¡± She paused, and took a breath. ¡°But higher priorities must obtain. Attend now, to the matters at hand.¡± Bessa decided it was time then to show her secret weapon. Now she drew out her necklace with Sorcha¡¯s Tear, allowing the prophet to see it. Lady Nensela¡¯s eyes brightened. ¡°So you carry with you the power of a scryer. Have you used it yet?¡± ¡°No, my lady,¡± Bessa said. ¡°Only one name at a time can be sought, so I will use this for nothing less than our prime enemy. Is Murena the one? Or one of the five? Or the giants? Or another person or group we don¡¯t know about?¡± At that moment Lady Nensela abruptly turned to Edana, and bestowed a benevolent gaze upon her. ¡°You have my thanks, for giving me an able fulcrum. That is, if she agrees.¡± She stared long at Bessa. ¡°You have tasted the danger we¡¯re in first hand. Are you committed?¡± Without a moment¡¯s hesitation Bessa answered, ¡°Yes. Put that question out of your mind. I am part of this, as much as you or Edana. What do you need? Ask.¡± Chapter 17: Council XVII Council In which they determine the nature of the enemy Lady Nensela calmly replied, ¡°Cool your blood, young one. To be swept along by passions is the way of youth; I do not count it against you. Edana loves you as a sister, and not easily will she part from you. Nor you from her, I believe. Love of family, and desire to avenge your people were enough to carry you both to Gagnon¡¯s door¡ªbut no further. What comes next will test your soul. No shame falls upon you if you prefer to find your man instead.¡± Bessa¡¯s hands clenched around her scrying stone. Warm from lying next to her heart for days. Heavy. Not in weight, but in its burden, what it represented. In death she might meet the original bearer, her ancestor. Sorcha¡¯s Tear served him well for a much lesser purpose than the one she intended now. What she did next would determine the nature of her meeting with him. ¡°On the contrary, my lady, there is nothing but shame. Unlike you, I will stand in judgment before the gods one day, and my dead will be right there to condemn me. In my own blood and theirs I cried out to the gods for retribution¡±¡ªshe clenched her teeth, annoyed at her penchant for crying in anger¡ª¡°so facing the gods as an oathbreaker is the only fear that moves me now. Facing my dead if I break my oath will shame me beyond all redemption. Turn away? I am a Philomelos, and I carry no milk in my veins. No choice in life guarantees safety, as you well know, my lady. So why should I value my safety over my vows, my honor, and my duty?¡± Cool her blood? Not possible, not while she was in the right. Wiping her eyes, Bessa girded herself for Lady Nensela¡¯s counterargument. To her shock, Lady Nensela visibly flinched. Papyrus crinkled in her clenched hands. ¡°Ah. Seeing the gods. Reunion with your lost ones. Yes, you will know such joy in time.¡± She let out a shaky breath. When she spoke, the weight of her years echoed and resonated in her voice. ¡°Accept my apologies, I beseech you.¡± Reunion with your lost ones. The seer¡¯s words pierced Bessa¡¯s heart, down to the core of her soul. Now a coldness washed over her. Shame. Shame for hurting someone who only meant kindness. Even Edana was staring at her as if she¡¯d never seen her before. ¡°Only if you will accept mine,¡± Bessa said softly. ¡°Yes. Yes, I do.¡± Falling silent, Nensela of Ta-Seti went over to the kithara. Long did she stare at its splendor before at last she took the instrument in her hands, and carried it to a chair on the western side of her library. Dangling from the kithara¡¯s right arm was a leather strap embroidered with a floral meander pattern. Inserting her left hand in the strap allowed Lady Nensela to comfortably position it behind the instrument. Anticipation made Edana straighten and Bessa hold her breath; both fastened their gazes upon Lady Nensela as she began to play. A melody filled the room, gauzy and pensive. Bessa tensed, overtaken. Visceral, unbidden, a memory came to her. Sunset. Grandmother and Papouli in repose on the terrace one summer day. Below the slope of the terrace lay a profusion of violet and emerald, hyssop in full bloom. The minty scent of the flowers lent a spice to the soft breeze. Papouli¡¯s eyes were closed to this serene vista. But Grandmother lay with her head on his chest, and her eyes were open, glistening. One tear rolled down her cheek. Edana let out a small sound. Too late, she clapped a hand around her mouth and turned away. Still Lady Nensela played. But now she began to speak, and her tale unfolded. ¡°The Watchers in the Heavens had not yet changed their posts on the day when I attained the age you are now. On that day, I left my home and sailed the Viridian. Wind and tide brought me to a kingdom. There, I met a young prince who was blessed with two gifts from the gods: music, and prophecy.¡± Changed posts? Oh right, Bessa recalled, the sages said the ¡°fixed¡± stars moved. Albeit slowly, over a thousand lifetimes of mortals. The Ta-Setians famously reckoned eras based on which star had moved into the Guide Star position. Fast yet subtle, Lady Nensela¡¯s fingers appeared to caress the strings of the kithara. The notes deepened. So also did the sensation of being possessed by memory. Arrested on the spot by her own conscience, Bessa could not look away from the scene in her mind¡¯s eye. Once again, panic and sorrow beckoned to her, just as they did that day when she sensed Papouli would not open his eyes again. His face is turned to the sun, but he can¡¯t feel it, can he? Though the summer sun warmed her skin, Bessa only felt cold inside. Her sun had fallen from the heavens into a place where it would never arise again. Leaving her with anguish at the thought of life without Papouli¡¯s love and protection. ¡°So gifted was this prince,¡± Lady Nensela was saying. ¡°Were he alive now, you would call him a ¡®Seeker¡¯s Own,¡¯ for all he prophesied came to pass. When he played music, he made himself master of all: tears would flow from his listeners, no matter how stony their hearts might be. Our common gift of prophecy bonded he and I together. How many days and nights did we walk together in the grove of the Dreaming Trees? How many hours did he spend teaching me to coax music from wood and strings?¡± Closing her eyes, she sighed. With her left hand, Lady Nensela shook the rightmost pillar on top of the tuning bar. At the same time with her right, she plucked the strings. A mournful vibrato sounded. In that moment, with her mind¡¯s eye fixed on her own day of sorrow, Bessa was acutely seized by another emotion entirely. One so foreign, so ill at-ease in her skin that she shuddered. Envy. No other name fit; she admitted as much to herself. Papouli¡¯s death was beautiful. And hard won, given all he had survived and endured in life. But by virtue of the fact that she was in this room, she closed the door not only on dying as Papouli had died, but on living the better parts of the life he lived. No, not for her a death in the arms of her life-long love. Not for her the grandchildren to wail in grief and sorrow, or bear precious memories of her. Nor for her the triumph of looking back on past glories ¡­ the plays she might have written¡­ Seemingly from far away, Lady Nensela¡¯s words came to her. ¡°If you would learn no other lesson from an elder, learn this: when your days are sweet, savor them. Be thankful, even for small things. Dwell not on that which is bitter. Only learn, and move on.¡± ¡°And what have you learned?¡± Edana¡¯s voice sounded strained. What was she seeing in her mind¡¯s eye? Lady Nensela opened her eyes, turning fathomless pools of obsidian upon them. ¡°The importance of influence. Of credibility. Of having friends in high places and low, and everywhere in between. By the will of the Seeker the prince warned his people of their coming doom, and how they might avert it.¡± ¡°Are you speaking of Amathus?¡± Edana asked. ¡°Indeed.¡± In days of old, Amathus ruled the seas. A mighty trading power even the formidable kingdom of Athyr-aigave respect to. But their power made them arrogant, so much so they neglected to pay fealty to the Sea Lord. Thus, the punishment He inflicted upon them. With her left hand Lady Nensela blocked and strummed the strings from behind. A tense, staccato beat sounded. With her right, she plucked her plectrum across the front of the strings to counter with a sweeter, softer sound. The harmonics were mesmerizing. Any other time, Bessa would have been thrilled to devour the morsels Lady Nensela fed them. Glorious Amathus always fascinated her. Shame kept her silent. Fiercely she¡¯d boasted of her commitment to fight the giants. And while honor was enough to drive her¡ªof this she had no doubt¡ªshe could not help the grief she felt now. For herself, for her dreams, and particularly for her grandparents, who sought only to preserve her life. All of that she must lay aside, because there was no other course except to fight this battle. Maybe, perhaps, she might live to see victory ... but victory might mean saving the world for everyone else. Two gates appeared in her mind¡¯s eye, each opened wide upon a road. One of them clanged shut. Bessa swallowed hard. Warily, she gazed anew at the dream spinner. Not for a minute did she doubt the instrument¡¯s magic was responsible for her reliving so potent a memory ¡­ and the revelation it delivered. Try my soul? Indeed. Well played, my lady Nensela. ¡°So young were we, the prince and I. All we had to do, or so we believed, was pass along what the Seeker said unto us. So young were we. The king and his men counted us as babes, though the prince¡¯s beard was lush¡±¡ªnow Lady Nensela swept her plectrum across the strings all at once¡ª¡°thus they did not heed our counsel.¡± ¡°And so they died?¡± Edana asked. ¡°And so they died. Learn: sound reason is not sufficient to move others to do what needs doing. Especially when doing what is right requires people to do a new thing they have no wish to do, or toss aside an old thing they wish to keep.¡± Another sweep of her plectrum, and Lady Nensela¡¯s melody ended on a high note. Bessa flinched, jolted by the breaking of the spell. Thoughts swirled in her head, but she focused for a moment on what Lady Nensela had told them of Amathus. ¡°What didn¡¯t the people of Amathus wish to do? Why didn¡¯t they want to listen to you? The legend did not say.¡± ¡°Ah? So that part of the story is lost, then? Well. The Seeker assured us that those who left Amathus would be saved. The island was to become a desolation, a warning, a byword. To live, the Amathusians must leave. The solution seemed simple to me. A mere girl who had never built a life, or raised a family. This, I think is why the prince and I were dismissed: our lack of appreciation for what we were asking.¡± Bessa tried to see it from the Amathusians¡¯ point of view. All her life she lived on land her family passed down from one generation to the next; land she hoped to pass on to her children. To be uprooted and dispossessed of one¡¯s birthright, and everything one¡¯s family or oneself had built, and scattered to the four winds? No wonder Lady Nensela had trouble convincing the Amathusians to leave their country.. Now Lady Nensela stood, and stretched. Somehow she looked ... formal. Rested. As if she had cried out every drop of her tears, and now resolved to continue on. Bessa bit her lip. Yes, she must also carry on. So. ¡°What did the Dragon¡¯s Den not want to do?¡± she asked, referring to the assembly of lawmakers, which included the emperor. ¡°What exactly happens in your vision?¡± Lady Nensela paused. ¡°Ah, that. Understand, from the time I was a small girl I could see what was yet to be. In my dreams, in my waking moments. In the still quiet moments, in the middle of the market square. In all places and all times the voice of the Seeker would come to me. Yet in all my days, I have never seen the likes of what I saw when I dreamed my dream of giants.¡± Restlessly Lady Nensela paced, the hem of her dress swirling about her ankles. Her fingers rhythmically tapped the coils around her arms. ¡°They will all come on a sunless dawn. In their arsenal is a green fire to light the heavens, and a noise to shake the ground we stand upon. Beyond that moment are evils I do not wish to see or endure. You understand?¡± Inside, Bessa¡¯s soul shivered. At Red Pointe she had wondered if Lady Aelia could foresee her own death, but Lady Aelia was a scryer. Lady Nensela was a prophet. If she were truly immortal she would not see her own death, but she would see the deaths of many others. How did she live with that? ¡°Please tell me we are not here for nothing,¡± Bessa demanded. ¡°Can this vision be averted?¡± ¡°There is always a thread. There is always a path that leads to that which I see. Sometimes the end can be averted¡ªif my actions are the key. Usually, it is a matter of my influence with the prime actors. It is my prayer that this is a time when I can act.¡± Edana turned to the trunk she had asked the slaves to bring down. Now she opened it, and drew forth the weapon. She placed it on the table. ¡°What of this, my lady? Townspeople and soldiers understood what this thunder mace meant, surely the Dragon¡¯s Den would react similarly? The emperor would open Khratu¡¯s Gates, at least?¡± When Rasena Valentis was at war, the ceremonial doors of Khratu¡¯s Temple were thrown open. The imperial provinces were placed on a war footing, and the ordinary people were put on alert that they may be called upon to serve their empire. Raising an elegant eyebrow, Lady Nensela returned to her side. At first she didn¡¯t touch the exotic weapon, only visually scrutinized it. Then she picked it up, and ran her fingers along the breadth of it. She paused, and canted her head as if waiting for something. ¡°Do you sense anything?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°I am no echomancer, so my abilities are limited. However. I do sense a foreign intelligence. Foreign in every way. The giant speaks no language I have heard, and this is disturbing in itself; trust me. He? Or it¡ªhas a fixed purpose, one it will not deviate from. The creature that held this weapon intended to destroy, but it is not a mindless being. It has a¡­governing purpose, but one that I cannot sense.¡± Eagerly, Bessa leaned forward. ¡°Can you tell where it came from?¡± ¡°Odd. Extraordinary, rather.¡± Lady Nensela frowned as she turned the thunder mace in her hands. ¡°It¡¯s as if it has no past. While I can only See the road ahead, I can always See that there was a road behind. The giant¡¯s intended future was destruction of Red Pointe, which is obvious, but where it came from before then? It¡¯s as if there was no before.¡± ¡°¡®They come from nothing, and return to nothing,¡¯¡± Bessa quoted. ¡°Edana said you thought they had a portal. Do you think that¡¯s why you can¡¯t tell?¡± With a sigh Lady Nensela set the thunder mace on the round table. Gates did not evade her senses, she replied. Arrivals and departures through the Karnassus Gate or the Cloud Gate were not hidden from her. However, she did not believe the giants arrived through those Gates, but rather a Gate, unknown to them. ¡°That is what I believe I am seeing happen. Without more information I cannot say for sure, let alone how they¡¯re arriving now. As thieves do, they come amongst us in the night, but we have no basis to say their arrival is not by conventional means.¡± Briefly, Lady Nensela allowed them to digest her observation. Then she added, ¡°With regard to the Dragon¡¯s Den, take heed: we must not present a body of politicians a problem without a solution. Leave no room for panic, political score settling, or well-meaning ineffectualness. Better for us all to give them a focus: where will the giants appear on the day of destruction? Concrete questions must be resolved before we involve any king or counselor.¡± Now Lady Nensela took her seat at the round table; Bessa and Edana followed suit. The shape of their mission emerged. According to the imperial astronomers, only a solar eclipse could account for the ¡®sunless dawn¡¯ in the vision. Thus, they knew when the giants would appear. Duke Gagnon¡¯s list suggested who¡ªor what¡ªthe giants¡¯ allies were. As discussed, they must also determine where and how the giants would arrive. Lady Nensela added, ¡°We need to find out to what demesne this keystone goes, and what Murena has to do with it. May we access it as we please, or are there limits on when the ¡®door¡¯ can be opened? Once there, how do you return? While there, how do you keep an abyssal and its servants from killing you?¡± The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Bessa shivered. Edana looked away. Changing the subject Lady Nensela asked, ¡°How would Lady Aelia¡¯s Fire Lords help us? Most Salamandra do not live in Rasena Valentis, certainly none bearing such a title. Salamandra keep to the desert, and the vast majority dwell between Anshan and Xia, an extraordinary detour for our purposes.¡± Indeed, a perilous journey of many months in the best of times, according to Bessa¡¯s travel guides. Fortunately, she and Edana did ask the obvious follow-up question: When Lady Aelia came out of her delirium she elaborated that the Fire Lords were elders of her people. A combination of lorekeepers, priests and statesmen. More to the point, Lady Aelia had referred to the giants by a specific name: Atta¡¯u. Creatures from out of an ancient aeon, and she suspected the Fire Lords could shed light on them. ¡°I will set Master Arcanus Ziri to that task at once,¡± Lady Nensela said. ¡°Surely he must keep Star Dragons in Salamandra lands.¡± Edana exhaled. ¡°In the meantime, how can we deal with Murena? The corran insisted using the keystone was not a simple question of having the right amulet or spell. A priest is obviously necessary.¡± Lady Nensela tapped her lips, deep in thought. ¡°A priest I know may offer insight; little of the lore I gathered over the years concerns abyssals. Only one account speaks of an Erebossi giving a sorcerer a key to its ¡­ lair. Naturally, the sorcerer never returned; this tale was meant to caution any sorcerer who is unusually stupid. However, the story confirms the concept of keys to shadow realms is not implausible.¡± ¡°Which means that the first task, of finding out how to deal with Murena, is the prime task,¡± Bessa noted. Lady Nensela picked up her wine cup, a cameo cup depicting Khratu, the Supreme Strategos. Immediately, her slave poured her more wine. After a sip Lady Nensela continued, ¡°Let us discuss the role you, Bessa, will play in this matter.¡± Only Bessa¡¯s exhale betrayed her; she managed to suppress a smile of triumph. Passed your test, did I? ¡°Bessa¡¯s role?¡± Edana gripped Bessa¡¯s arm, eliciting a double take from her. ¡°I told you, she is no arcana, and has no training for missions.¡± ¡°I told you we¡¯re in this together,¡± Bessa said, nostrils flaring. Arching an eyebrow Lady Nensela replied, ¡°Count it foolish to throw away a sword tested and true before a battle. Whisper networks are also tested and true, in bringing down even the innocent. Those who intrigue in the courts of kings would approve of how Bessa brought down the duke. As do I.¡± As the Red Daggers were looking for Edana, they might also be searching for Edana¡¯s Siluran companion. Finding the Siluran might mean finding the Terebinthian, Lady Nensela pointed out. ¡°Thus, Bessa Philomelos is not in Kyanopolis. Not yet, anyway, not until the time that suits us best.¡± Edana relaxed her grip somewhat on Bessa¡¯s arm. ¡°Who shall I be?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°Lovingly, as a sister does, Edana has often praised your storytelling prowess to me. You speak Pelasgian, fitting for one with a Pelasgian name. Therefore, to the people of Kyanopolis you are a Pelasgian tavern-dweller who tells wondrous accounts of giants in Silura. Certain taverns here are frequented by the owners of theater companies. Attract their attention, and pass to them your story in the form of a play.¡± A thrill went through Bessa at this last part. All her life she dreamed of writing a play, one that might win her wide acclaim. Very few women in history ever accomplished such, and none born in her generation. No Silurans, man or woman, ever accomplished such a feat at all. When would she ever have a better opportunity than the one before her now? ¡°And in the mean time, people will talk,¡± Lady Nensela continued. ¡°Others will be uncomfortable. It is my hope that we may flush out the arcana who are working against us. They will likely protest the play, and try to silence the story. Keep watch on those who are ostentatious in their disdain of the play.¡± Lady Nensela let that sink in. She looked at Edana, who at last withdrew her hand from Bessa¡¯s arm. Edana nodded in apology, and Bessa nodded in acceptance. However, there was one other matter. ¡°Do you have a target in mind in Kyanopolis?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°When we did our ¡®tavern tour¡¯ in Silura, the point was for it to be politically expedient for Gagnon to die, and for the authorities to focus on his activities, not Edana¡¯s. None of Gagnon¡¯s Five live here; dare I even dream my play would spread beyond Kyanopolis? Is there anyone here we need to flush out with my play? If not killed, then rather exposed, discredited and above all, removed?¡± ¡°An apt question,¡± Lady Nensela replied. ¡°Let us revisit this plan when we have identified our prey.¡± Images flashed before Bessa¡¯s eyes of the piles of dead soldiers she had to walk through. Last time she flushed out an enemy, an entire fortress was destroyed. A theater company wouldn¡¯t stand a chance. Yet again the prophet reassured her: Killing all the play-goers after the fact would be impossible. So would killing everyone they spoke to about the play. For that reason, killing the actors would be just as pointless. ¡°On such grounds they gain nothing by killing you. By the time we put on this play, Edana will have dealt with the Red Daggers. We may be on our way away from Kyanopolis at that point, and on to our next target.¡±
Keymaster Hanno entered¡ªBessa would have said materialized, so silently did he seem to arrive, if she hadn¡¯t still been a little on edge about Murena¡ªand declared Bessa¡¯s room was ready. ¡°May you find it to your liking,¡± Lady Nensela said. ¡°In the coming days, it should serve as a pleasant place of respite for you.¡± The meeting adjourned, Bessa followed the steward up the staircase where she had first spied Lady Nensela. As it turned out, the staircase led to a second tower. Inside the tower, bedrooms were divided into ¡®day levels¡¯ and ¡®night levels,¡¯ with the day levels being subterranean, as the library was, and the night level being above ground. ¡°By day we swelter, by night we shiver,¡± Lady Nensela warned. She regarded Bessa with an appraising stare. ¡°Might you find it otherwise? Edana revels in the coolth of night, and says it reminds her of Silura.¡± ¡°What weather do you have in Ta-Seti? Is it like this?¡± ¡°Very much like Kyanopolis. Well, somewhat cooler in the capital, for the city is built on islands in the Gryphon¡¯s Way. For Edana it took two years to adapt. We do not have so long for you. Let us hope it shall not be an issue.¡± In contrast to the first tower, the second tower had windows. Its position on the estate was secure, by virtue of the formidably rocky foothill behind. Bessa thought of Red Pointe, and amended her assessment: it was secure so long as no giants threatened it. As with the fortress at Red Pointe, the tower was carved from the hill itself. However, Lady Nensela beautified hers with hanging gardens, and friezes above the windows. The friezes depicted the Seeker and the five members of Her Alliance, the wandering stars: Aletheia, who bore a flaming staff, and Her twin sister Sorcha, who wore a sunburst crown; the Destroyer, who carried the Keys to the Abyss; Amyntas, armed with sword and shield; and Khratu, who carried a phoenix-feather quill. The Seeker, who could see across time, appeared in the night sky as the Guide Star. Around Her neck a torque joined itself at both ends with a starburst between the horns of a sickle moon, for Her star never set, never abandoned the night sky as others did. Bessa surveyed the night level of her apartment. Just like Papouli back home, Lady Nensela supplied reading materials even to her guests. Bound volumes lined the marble cabinets set into the walls. Bessa¡¯s eyes lit up when Lady Nensela pointed out a tablet hanging near one shelf. If Bessa liked a manuscript, she said, then Bessa had only to write the title on the tablet. The servants would have Lady Nensela¡¯s personal scribes produce a copy for her. Late afternoon sunlight poured through the gauzy golden curtains, casting a dreamy haze on the parlor. Marble recesses in the walls alternated small statues of ebony or alabaster, with the central recess containing a cobalt glass bowl of fragrant bluebells, yellow irises and white myrtle. Sumptuous goods furnished the bedroom. The bed was carved of a fragrant wood, spicy and sweet, and Bessa inhaled it deeply. ¡°Sandalwood,¡± Nensela said from the doorway. ¡°A tree not to be found in any part of Rasena Valentis. But prevalent in the lands east of the Gold Sea.¡± ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± Bessa observed. ¡°Thank you for letting me use it.¡± ¡°You are quite welcome. Now I must take my leave of you, and attend to other matters.¡± Pivoting on her heel, Lady Nensela left the doorway, her white dress swirling about her. For a moment Bessa stared at the now-empty door, then turned back to the bed. Reverently she traced the intricate flourishes along the headboard. Did Lady Nensela give the bed to guests because she could not bear to use it herself, after her family was lost in the Gold Sea voyage? Bessa darted back into the sitting room, to examine the codices on the shelves. To her delight, one of the volumes was a familiar collection of Pelasgian folktales. Tentatively, she examined a particular passage that many translators stumbled over. Bessa smiled broadly. Ahh. The passage was translated accurately and poetically from Pelasgian to Rasenan. Lady Nensela¡¯s scribes knew what they were doing; Bessa could now trust them for the unfamiliar works as well. The codex stalls in Asil¡¯est annoyed her, for less than a third of their wares could meet her bare minimum standard. ¡°Ahem.¡± Bessa turned. A slave girl stood in the midst of the room. Upon her person she displayed the wealth and generosity of her mistress via her linen chiton, dyed a pale pink and lined with beads along the hemline. A curtain of dark curls fell over her face when she bowed her head. She straightened quickly, and impatiently raked her hair back. ¡°O honorable one? My name is Mera, and I am at your service. Is there anything you require of me?¡± Bessa looked her over. By her looks the girl was younger than Lenora, perhaps she was twelve? Nevertheless, the girl stood tall and exuded self-assurance. When Bessa asked, she offered to show her to Edana¡¯s room. ¡°Shall I unpack for you as well?¡± Bessa agreed, and Mera led her to Edana¡¯s room. Edana¡¯s door was open ajar, enough for them to see her standing in the middle of her room with a stack of documents in her hand. ¡°Come in,¡± Edana trilled. Bessa stepped in. Immediately a feeling of cool serenity overcame her. Frescoes on Edana¡¯s walls bathed the room in vibrant shades of green, with splashes of gold and red; scenes from a lush garden. Gradually, Bessa realized this was no ordinary garden. When she spotted the lamassu she was sure of it. There was one place famously associated with the celestial guardians, who possessed the wings of eagles, and the bodies of lions or bulls: Qir?. The cradle of life, where humanity first awakened. In that everlasting land, nothing died, and all was joy. So the songs said, and who could gainsay them? Bessa walked along the walls, and tapped the image of a life-sized rose. ¡°So lifelike. I feel I could just step into this.¡± She glanced back at Edana, who was fetching a letter opener from her desk. ¡°Sometimes I wish I could step into the painting,¡± Edana murmured, twirling her letter knife. Another elegant example of her silversmiths¡¯ handiwork, the handle terminated in the same sort of bird Edana used in her seals. A peacock, did she say? Yes. Aloud Bessa joked, ¡°Well, that would be the safest way to get there. Your father was right about how impossible it is.¡± Caught by surprise, Edana froze in the act of opening a letter. ¡°How do you know?¡± Tantalizingly enough, everyone knew Qir? to be in the midst of the Ethereal Sea. All of the holy scrolls said so. But getting there¡­ ¡°Grandmother said when she was our age, some stupid youths left town, bragging they¡¯d be the first humans to set foot there since the Expulsion. Supposedly they created a device that would let them see through the mists that cover the sea. She asked them if they had a plan to deal with the lamassu, but they refused to tell her. ¡®It¡¯s a secret,¡¯ they said.¡± ¡°Right¡­do the lamassu speak to people?¡± Edana cocked her head, and she looked amused as she pondered the idea. No one had ever made such a claim of the creatures. ¡°It never occurred to me they might talk. But then, they have human heads, so they should be able to. So what happened to the expedition?¡± ¡°Failed, like all the others. But their boat wound up on the far side of the Gold Sea, past Xia. And Xia is what, nine months east of the Ethereal Sea, right? And Xia¡¯s eastern shore would be even further out. Only one of the voyagers made it back to Silura, and that was four years ago. Grandmother was amazed, and she told me about him after she ran into him in town.¡± ¡°The Gold Sea, hmm? So Papa was right.¡± As her father told them, anyone who tried the mist-shrouded waters of the Ethereal Sea always wound up scattered to the corners of the world, as though the sea were a wayward portal. For a moment Edana looked pensive, far off. Then with a slight smile, she came to herself again. She sat down on a luxurious red bench and placed certain letters next to herself. Bessa took note of how they were addressed: to the Hon. Edana Nuriel, at the House of the Sphinxes in the pine boughs. As the daughters of veterans, she and Edana both shared the title of honorable, or optima. But now Bessa knew how to direct any potential correspondences she herself might receive while in Kyanopolis. ¡°Who are those from?¡± Bessa asked, curious about Edana¡¯s life in the city. Vigorously shaking her head at one letter, Edana frowned and held it out for Bessa to take. When she finished reading it, Bessa whistled. ¡°Who is this fellow? Competition for Captain Asher? Or I should ask, does he hope to be competition?¡± Edana¡¯s mouth fell open. ¡°Tell me you¡¯re joking!¡± Bessa laughed, and collapsed on the couch across from Edana. Eyes twinkling, she quoted the parts that amused her most, while Edana made a show of looking for something to throw at her. She settled for a pillow, but Bessa¡¯s reflexes ensured she escaped contact. After a little while they composed themselves. A now-wistful Edana listened closely as Bessa spoke to her about the dream spinner, and what it revealed to her. ¡°Going forward with this mission is the only path I can travel. Please don¡¯t think I can let you cut me out, just to ¡®protect¡¯ me,¡± Bessa said. ¡°You yourself pointed out Lysander will want to help. Or he better, if he¡¯s the man for me. Finding him, not finding him¡ªeither way I¡¯m in this to the very end, do you understand?¡± Edana hung her head. ¡°The dream spinner showed me a possibility for my future ... no knife could ever cut me as deep.¡± The tremor in her voice made Bessa put an arm around her. ¡°Was it so horrible?¡± ¡°Quite the opposite. A glorious future! But I¡¯m still sorting out how I feel about it.¡± She cleared her throat. ¡°From now on I must be honest with myself. About my life, and how I have lived it until now.¡± ¡°You make it sound as if you ought to be ashamed. Surely you¡¯re too hard on yourself?¡± ¡°Perhaps,¡± Edana replied. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t matter. Like you, I can only walk one path right now. What comes after ... well, I pray there is an after. For all of us. In the time we have left, let us savor the sweet, as Lady Nensela would say.¡± Though her eyes were fixed upon fabled Qir?, Edana appeared not to see the fresco at all. ¡°And dwell not on the bitter,¡± Bessa reminded her. Something told her Edana brooded more than she savored. For a moment they sat in silence. Then, Edana smiled and tapped her suitor¡¯s letter, which Bessa still held in her hands. ¡°Forget him, Bessa. I, too, prefer a valorous man. One who would drop everything to fight by my side, as you have done. This man wouldn¡¯t, so why would I settle for him? Even putting aside that he¡¯s Rasenan, and does not know the Sayings. Unlike our people and my father¡¯s, Rasenans will discard a spouse if a better arrangement comes along. He¡¯s only interested in my dowry; I could be a lamia for all he cares.¡± ¡°Certainly the Rasenans are odd for divorcing for no particular reason,¡± Bessa ventured. ¡°But is that how he is? Is he nothing more than a fortune hunter?¡± Edana reclaimed the letter, and placed it on the floor at her feet, apparently the beginning of her discard pile. She picked up another letter and used her knife to break the seal. This message was brief, only one page. ¡°Fortune hunter, no,¡± she said with a little laugh. ¡°To hear him tell it, his grandfather¡¯s grandfather acquired such wealth that his own grandchildren won¡¯t be able to spend it all. And his family is so distinguished, quite respectable, don¡¯t you know? But¡ªhe already has an ex-wife, and he¡¯s only twenty-three. I will not be his next ex-wife. Enough about him. I must felicitate and replace my secretary.¡± A secretary? Personal or business?¡± Bessa joined her on the bench, moving the pile of letters to her lap so she could read over Edana¡¯s shoulder. Business, Edana answered. Entering her arrangement with the silversmith¡¯s guild led to discovering a temple of the Sower, which she eagerly began visiting. A matron there earned her trust and vouched for a pair of orphaned siblings, who became Edana¡¯s secretaries. hire people, or find ways to create opportunities. Or I simply pass along opportunities I know about. Keziah and Isaac live above my shop, and in exchange they help manage the place.¡± The arrangement lasted three years, long enough for Isaac to save up for the apprenticeship fees to become a portal keeper at the Karnassus Gate in Athyr-ai. However, the siblings didn¡¯t know anyone they trusted in Karnassus, so Keziah remained with Edana. ¡°But now, she is getting married, and will go with her betrothed to live back in Eitan. She says she¡¯s lined up choice candidates for me to choose from. Hmm. I better make sure the oraculum is free, this may take a while.¡± Bessa smiled. Edana always had a strong sense of duty, and Bessa admired her habit of seeking the maximum good from a given situation. The two of them sat side by side, going through the letters. They discarded a few, reserved a few for Edana¡¯s personal attention, and set aside the ones Edana¡¯s secretary could deal with. Her sorting task finished, Edana sighed in contentment. Bessa asked, ¡°What will you miss the most?¡± ¡°Ah. What indeed? Swoons and squeals, from my clients when they see the finished pieces my smiths made for them, is one. Outings to comedy plays, or concerts is another one. Also, a marvelous harpist lives next to my shop. Sometimes, when I relax on the rooftop, I can hear him practice.¡± ¡°Marvelous, did you say?¡± ¡°Divine. But somehow, he sounds best when I am drinking hot water infused with myrtle leaves. Keziah makes it; it smells citrus-like, and tastes refreshing.¡± For the first time since their reunion, Edana looked relaxed, with a lopsided smile on her face as she recounted her joys. ¡°In those moments on my roof, I think of what I¡¯ve already accomplished, and what I look forward to accomplishing, and I thank the Speaker I am alive to enjoy all of it.¡± Gratitude. Swiftly the thought came to Bessa that she, too, had cause for gratitude. Though she was still unsettled by the dream spinner¡¯s magic, she reflected on the life she did get to live, the triumphs she did earn, and the loved ones who would mourn her if the giants obliged her to die a heroic death. Not all could say this for themselves, even if they lived to Papouli¡¯s age. ¡°I already put my affairs in order,¡± Bessa began. ¡°What of yours? What will you do for those you care for? Keziah? Atreus? You have my help if you need it.¡± Edana¡¯s tone became soft, dreamy. ¡°A few things come to mind...¡± Chapter 18: In the Garden of the Seeker XVIII In the Garden of the Seeker In which the enemy emerges ¡°Lady Nensela, my lady, I welcome you,¡± said the priest, who held out a hand to Nensela as she approached him in the garden of the Seeker¡¯s temple. Nensela reached him in three strides. She tented her fingertips together and touched them to her lips, then pointed her hands to the priest, extending a kiss. The priest returned her homage, for as a Seeker¡¯s Own she was regarded as holy, a living Voice of the Seeker. The priest received her warmly, clasping an arm around her shoulders, inviting her to walk with him. In the early light of the morning they leisurely paced the garden, stopping every so often for the priest to point out the newest blooms. They stopped when they came to a sacred spring. Its waters did not heal, as a naiad spring would, but at certain times it would reveal visions of the past or future. One did not have to be a seer to see the visions; a priest could do so, or anyone the Seeker saw fit to give a revelation to. For now the waters bubbled and frothed, a sign that a vision was not immediately forthcoming. The commencement of a vision was always heralded by the absolute stillness of the waters. The spring, ringed by a careful arrangement of stones, dominated its particular section of the garden. The stones were encircled by vines, which had yet to come into their flowering season. Nensela idly wondered aloud if she would be in Kyanopolis to see the flowers bloom. At so out-of-character a remark the priest turned to her, with a small smile. ¡°Your concerns are mine, daughter of the Seeker.¡± ¡°New knowledge plays escort to new doubts concerning our potential success in the war to come. If I said to you a progeny of the Abyssal Serpent is involved in this matter, what would you say?¡± The priest stood still and listened as she repeated to him the words of the giant. She spoke to him of Lady Aelia¡¯s advice, Cingetissa¡¯s discovery, and brought forth the starsilk purse with the keystone. ¡°The Seeker be with us,¡± the priest breathed when she finished. He sat down hard on a bench surrounding a pomegranate tree. Neither the fruit nor the flowers of the tree were in bloom yet. In silence Nensela stood beside him, not eager to rush him. Had she not chosen him because he was deliberate and methodical? As well, he possessed a breadth and depth of knowledge she wasn¡¯t used to seeing in lesser-lived people. Before becoming a priest he had traveled the world, even leaving the empire. Nensela trusted his words would be useful. After a while he rose again and they resumed their walk. ¡°Make the Fire Lords your priority, my lady. Do you know the Salamandra do not acknowledge the Dark Ages as such?¡± Nensela arched an eyebrow. Oh? She did not think of the ¡®Dark Ages¡¯ as such, either; no Ta-Setian did. To her people, the time after Cataclysms were simply chaos periods. Of course, it was only natural for mortals to have cultural memory gaps. With a shudder, she thought of the post-Fourth Cataclysm chaos era. The era was the first of its kind Nensela ever lived through, and she thoroughly loathed the experience. True, the Seeker warned her of its coming. Dutifully¡ªand frantically¡ªNensela gathered all the scrolls she or her copyists could find, from poets to inventors. More, she endowed what would later become a museum with all of the artworks and artifacts she could acquire. Yet, still, the Fourth Cataclysm hit hard. And chaos reigned after, for nearly three centuries. Bitterly, Nensela lamented her people¡¯s failure to expand beyond their borders before the Third Cataclysm. They would not conquer the Karnassus Gate until afterward. Damn King Nasakhma and his insularity! At least she helped end his policies, when she came of age. No such policies held back the Salamandra, who were extant long before the Third Cataclysm. ¡°And they remember all that concerned them in those times,¡± the priest pointed out. ¡°Including the Scouring, although they call it something else. Their sorcerers survived unscathed. Why this is so is a mystery. Nevertheless, the point is, when an echomancer or lorekeeper needs to fill in gaps in knowledge, your people are not the only ones we seek: the Salamandra also serve. Lady Aelia¡¯s advice is sound, do not take it lightly.¡± Nensela nodded her agreement, for the priest justified her faith in his insight. The Fire Lords were now on her task list. Now they came to a wild cherry tree, whose profusion of fragrant white blossoms provided a spot of color. Nensela plucked a sprig and brought it to her nose. Savoring its perfume, she allowed herself a moment to think of other, more pleasant memories the scent brought to mind. ¡°And the abyssal?¡± she prompted, tucking the sprig behind her ear. ¡°Will they know about it as well? How does one protect oneself against an infernal Erebossan when in its realm?¡± The priest frowned. ¡°Understand this is purely speculation, but I¡¯d wager the only protection, such as it is, is the intention of the infernal. If our enemies are in their service, they may well be allowed to come and go so long as they faithfully serve their master. And so long as they are useful.¡± He pointed out that during his stay with the Salamandra, they spoke of creatures he had never heard of, and knew of multiple defenses against exotic monsters. ¡°Perhaps the Salamandra see our abyssal as merely a kind of monster,¡± the priest mused. ¡°Salamandra are not like any people I have met.¡± ¡°Does the Seeker not have a way? Have neither the Seeker nor Her Allies pursued anyone as far as an abyssal¡¯s stronghold? Or at least to Erebossa?¡± The priest smiled. ¡°To put someone in it, sure, not take them out. Besides, what can threaten a god? For a mortal¡ªor an immortal born of man and woman¡ªa god¡¯s aid is likely necessary to enter an infernal stronghold and return again.¡± Nensela smiled in spite of herself. ¡°Entering Erebossa in general has a similar requirement, so your hypothesis has merit. Let us hypothesize further: What is the significance of an abyssal¡¯s involvement? Especially given what the giants and their lackeys say when cornered. Whose children are they? And who are the servants? Whose motes do they take us to be?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s go by the children we do know about: the dryads are daughters of the Huntress. The naiads are daughters of the Restorer. Sea dragons are sons of the Sea Lord. Who is left? The Reaper, who has no children whom we know of.¡± A jolt went through Nensela, and suddenly all of her senses heightened: never, not once in all her life had she ever noticed the Reaper¡¯s lack of progeny. However, while the idea wasn¡¯t impossible, the giants were wildly incongruent in that context. All of the Children were appointed defined tasks: the dryads governed wild lands, and the sea dragons governed the sea. The naiads kept springs which healed any sickness or injury. The roles of the Children were congruent with the domains of their celestial parents. The giants; however, did not appear agriculturally inclined. Yet. Their current actions did not preclude past designs. The Reaper may have meant for the giants to cultivate the land, but perhaps a transgression obliged Him to banish them from the Palace of Land and Sea. In that case, jealousy might underlie their attack on the farmers; jealousy over their Father favoring humans over them. A base motive, one she hadn¡¯t considered. If the priest had guessed correctly, the farmers would always be in danger¡ªa disquieting thought. Until now, Nensela had assumed the farmers were targeted for strategic purposes: to sow and cultivate fear. The giants would naturally move on to military targets and have straightforward battles once they finished terrorizing civilians. But if the farmers were the prime targets, then that would change everything. ¡°Let¡¯s work with your idea,¡± she said after a while. ¡°If the giants belong to the Reaper, we have then answered the question of whose children are they. People, apparently, are the motes¡ª¡± Nensela cut herself off. Motes. No small thing, for people to be reduced to the status of insignificant specks. For the giants to designate people in those terms¡ªif that is what they meant¡ªit suggested they were indifferent to the human lives they smashed and destroyed. Smashed, and destroyed, on the way to battle a force they did consider important: the servants, who were to fall somehow. On Thuraia, the most logical hypothesis for the identity of the servants were the other Children. But how could this be? A sea dragon never threatened a naiad, not even when it pleased the Sea Lord¡¯s sons to come on land. A naiad never threatened a dryad. Dryads never made war against either sea dragons or naiads. Did the Children have to play nicely? Would their divine parents intervene if they fought? Nensela started to shake her head in amusement at the thought, then she stopped. If the Children went to war with each other, their Parents may be provoked into appearing once again in the Palace of Land and Sea. Blood quickened in her veins. Now she saw why an Erebossi would be involved in this matter. The priest studied her face. ¡°You¡¯ve come to a conclusion?¡± ¡°Only a glimmer,¡± she cautioned. When she finished telling him, he stroked his chin as he thought it over. ¡°However, one matter gives me grounds for doubt,¡± she added. ¡°The War of Fire, Rain, and Thunder. The Huntress never intervened in the dryad war against the Salamandra, even though the sylphs created the Second Cataclysm to end it. That was four thousand years ago.¡± ¡°An event followed by the Second Dark Age. For us mortals. But the Salamandra do not claim to have ever experienced a dark age¡­¡± He allowed his voice to trail off suggestively. ¡°More to the point, have you considered the Salamandra do not claim to be the children of any god?¡± Ah. Definitely she must find the Salamandra. For now, she sent the priest a kiss in a farewell homage. ¡°May the Seeker be good to you,¡± she said as she took her leave. A send-off she gave to all mortals she feared she would never see again.
The day started well enough. The three of them entered Kyanopolis proper together, but while Lady Nensela needed to visit the priest, Edana needed to settle her affairs at her shop, and Bessa intended to make good on her offer to help. Before they left that morning, Edana alerted her secretary to have the candidates meet them at the shop, so that she might meet and test them. Their carriage was escorted by Edana¡¯s guards, six strapping men sporting the most forbidding glares money could buy. Four of Lady Nensela¡¯s guards completed their entourage. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. This time, Bessa paid attention as they entered the city gates. The city was carved out of the sides of Mount Adamant, with different tiers that went up, up, up along paved roads kept as level as possible. They went past a necropolis, in which the nearest tombs displayed the most prominent dead, who in their living years had made their mark on the city in some fashion or another. Once in the city proper, the roads and doors began to sport patterns stamped into them. A custom from the Dracan era of the city, Lady Nensla explained when Bessa asked about them. The houses fascinated her. What was with the arrangement of stairs zigzagging over stucco fa?ades, leading either to walkways or directly to doors? She counted multiple stories, with several structures having six or seven. Stairs led up to flat roofs, which in turn featured walkways connecting one building to the next. Curiously, only women walked along these rooftop paths. Some paused to chat with each other, others held baskets on their arms, suggesting they were on errands. The men; however, strolled about only on the grounds, apparently reserving the heights for the women. ¡°These are townhouses,¡± Edana explained. ¡°I never saw anything like that before I came here. This is the Adamantean Quarter.¡± The Adamanteans were the original inhabitants of the region. They lived there before even the conquest of the Draca, the empire that ruled Kyanopolis before the coming of the Pelasgians, and later the Rasena Valentians. ¡°Are the Adamanteans still around?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°Or were they wiped out the Dracans?¡± To which Lady Nensela replied, ¡°Most of my staff are Adamantean; the others are Dracan. My Adamanteans chose to remain settled, unlike their nomadic brethren. When their tribes come to the cities in the summer, I hire them to work in my orchards.¡± When they passed beyond the Adamantean Quarter they came to the Dracan Quarter. Lady Nensela served as a wry tour guide. ¡°Many call this quarter the Old City, for it is the last remnant of the Dracan settlement. What I¡¯d like to know is their name for this city. Pelasgians named it for Kyane, because of her springs nearby. Did the Dracans do similar? Unfortunately for me the Dracans were a strange people, and they wrote nothing of interest concerning themselves. Just shopping receipts, can you imagine?¡± In the Old Quarter, homes bore carvings of symbols or people in the walls. Homages to Dracan god-kings, mortal kings who fancied themselves descendants of the gods, and ruled by such rights. Finally, they began their ascent of the mountain, and started into more Rasena Valentian settings. Bessa began counting tiers. The carriage didn¡¯t stop until they reached a promontory on the fourth tier. The promontory overlooked the bay, and the goings on in the harbor and the city below. A shop stood here. Two stories tall, the cool sea green of its stucco fa?ade echoed the Viridian. Above the door post, a large sign swayed in the gentle breeze. A silhouette of a hammer and anvil occupied the lower right-hand corner of the sign, and the lower left-hand bore a symbol of two naiads standing back to back. In the center, in gilded text, bold words proclaimed, ¡°ATREUS & NURIEL: FINE GOODS.¡± Bessa gasped, ¡°Your shop!¡± Edana blushed, beaming with pride. ¡°Fanuco¡¯s at noon¡ªand keep your guards about you,¡± Nensela decreed, before speeding away. The door flew open, revealing a young woman, about sixteen or so. Like Edana, her hair was a rich auburn, though she held hers back with a verdigris-colored fillet. The ribbon was fringed with enameled green beads that clinked as she bounced with nervous excitement. Keziah, Edana¡¯s secretary. Edana introduced them, and Keziah¡¯s green eyes rounded as she squealed in delight. ¡°So this is Bessa! The one in the necklace.¡± Bessa smiled at her. ¡°I am indeed.¡± This admission won her a half-hug from Keziah, who confessed she always hoped Edana would somehow reunite with Bessa. She clapped her hands in triumph that this hope had come to pass. ¡°May I say, she¡¯s missed you so much. I always thought of you as her long-lost twin. It didn¡¯t seem right that you were apart.¡± Bessa and Edana nodded vigorously in their agreement. Edana fingered Keziah¡¯s fillet and smiled. ¡°Looking married already?¡± Keziah blushed. ¡°There¡¯s no harm in it, is there? My mother made this for me, in preparation for this time. This will do until the wedding, right?¡± Clear in her mind¡¯s eye, Bessa saw Aunt Sorcha. Often Edana¡¯s mother wore a diadem of embroidered almond blossoms, edged with pearls she had caught in her youth. The center of the diadem featured a sun-and-moon clasp, enameled in gold and blue. Now it dawned on Bessa that this was not a personal style of Aunt Sorcha¡¯s. ¡°It¡¯s pretty on you. Congratulations.¡± Edana kissed Keziah¡¯s cheek and hugged her. Bessa sighed wistfully, for like her and Edana, Keziah must also do without her parents on such an important milestone. Keziah composed herself, and quickly gave Edana a summary of the candidates and why she thought they were suitable. As she spoke, it became clear that Keziah had put some thought into the matter. More, it was obvious that Edana¡¯s good opinion mattered to Keziah, and that Keziah was determined to do right by her. As Bessa listened she looked around the shop, admiring Edana¡¯s ingenious arrangements in displaying her wares. Marble tables punctuated an inviting arrangement of sofas and chairs. Vases or boxes accessorized the end tables, each made with either gold or silver, electrum or orichalcum. Seasonal flowers filled the vases. The low table in front of the couch provided the setting for the fancy tableware, including the silver platter of plump domes of scrumptious-looking cheesecakes. Cakes just large enough that one must slice them. A cunning excuse to show off the flatware, which won a smile of approval from Bessa. Recessed shelves in the walls displayed dish sets, jewelry boxes, and so on. Periodically, said Edana, she rotated out the items to showcase the newest or most expensive ones. One item she always kept on display: a silver, jewel-studded stephane crown. Clients never felt they were spending too much so long as they spent less than the cost of the high-arched headpiece, with the accompanying shimmersilk veil, she said. A tried and true tactic. ¡°I use that one, too,¡± Bessa noted. The shop¡¯s setup revealed to Bessa how Edana managed to avoid the stigma of being a merchant or a peddler. Rasena Valentians looked down on anyone who worked, anyone who did not have land of their own to generate income. Slaves often managed businesses, which assured the low status of managers. Peddlers were also suspect, for they visited homes in the day, when the man of the house was out. On countless bathhouse visits in Falcon¡¯s Hollow, Bessa would listen as other women read aloud steamy stories featuring seductive male peddlers. Therefore, Bessa assumed Edana traded on her femaleness, as men wouldn¡¯t feel threatened by her visiting their wives. Cleverly enough, Edana sidestepped the matter entirely be never going out and about like a peddler, nor drumming up business via a market stall. Instead she made use of a shrewd location for her shop, a central walkway heavy with foot traffic. In her window a placard announced, ¡°appointments available upon request,¡± giving her silver boutique an air of exclusivity. Undoubtedly, a huge factor in her ability to execute that maneuver lay with the brilliance of her smiths and Edana¡¯s own good tastes, Bessa supposed. She offered beautiful, elegant, yet practical goods. Keziah led them to Edana¡¯s office. Two desks, one on the far right and one on the far left, were at slanted angles to a balcony that overlooked the bay. The arrangement allowed Edana, her partner, and any guests a good view. The open door allowed the soft sea breeze to waft in from the bay. Marble topped both desks, but Bessa immediately identified Edana¡¯s by the motif of gold lotuses and peacocks in her desk set. Back-to-back naiads made up Atreus¡¯s set. An elegant glowlight power scepter on Edana¡¯s desk fascinated Bessa. The scepter was cleverly disguised as a caryatid, in this case a naiad supporting a platform, on top of which rested an extinguished glowlight. To light the orb, one must remove the platform, putting the glowlight in direct contact with the naiad¡¯s hands. A smaller pedestal held a glass globe of water, which served to magnify words or objects. No doubt Edana used it to examine engravings. ¡°Hello, thank you for coming. My name is Edana Nuriel.¡± Startled, Bessa looked up from the desk to see Edana standing in a corner before three men and two women, who sat quietly arrayed on benches in a corner of the room. Edana gave them a little overview of her business and her customers. Divide and conquer, as Bessa advised, and thus Edana sent four candidates into the waiting room so she could interview one at a time. Bessa remained for moral support, observing the interviews in silence. Occasionally she asked a penetrating question of her own. When the last one joined the others in the waiting room, Bessa and Edana conferred for a moment about their impressions. They found they agreed on which of the candidates seemed the strongest. Still, there was one other matter. For this next part, Bessa took command. Keziah brought in the candidates, and Bessa passed an envelope to her. When the candidates seated themselves comfortably, Bessa gave them a scenario she designed to encapsulate a number of dilemmas at once: an appraisal for a client. In the scenario, the appraisal determined an expensive possession was far less valuable than the client believed, based on parameters Edana supplied. The finding was guaranteed to offend the hypothetical client, a high-ranking big-to-do in Kyanopolis who would be outraged to know someone had made a fool of him. Gamely, the candidates asked judicious, pertinent questions, which Edana answered. Bessa gestured for Keziah to pass out parchments to the candidates, then she and Edana promptly left the room. All of the parchments bore strips of wax, each one in different colors: ochre, blue, malachite, yellow, and last, vermilion. Only Keziah would know which name went with which color; a detail she would place in a sealed note. As Bessa explained the night before, her test was designed to evaluate integrity, diplomacy, clarity of expression, helpfulness, and discretion. The candidates needed to show they could explain a complex matter in a way the uninitiated could understand, but without being condescending. Further, they needed to demonstrate they understood a client¡¯s feelings and needs¡ªand awareness that they were also protecting Edana¡¯s reputation, and that of her smiths. Thus, she would eliminate anyone who danced around the facts or attempted to obfuscate them. Edana took Bessa to the courtyard she utilized as a workshop, and introduced Bessa to the smiths working there. They proudly showed Bessa the pieces they were working on, and Bessa oohed and aahed as she openly coveted several items. She lingered over a fine tableware set, featuring pomegranates patterned in low-relief around the edges and center of the dishes. As they left the courtyard Bessa said, ¡°Grandmother would love this for the dining room. Pomegranates are part of the patterns on the walls.¡± Edana looked askance at her. ¡°At this point, shouldn¡¯t you be looking to outfit your own dining room? I didn¡¯t notice if you included dishes in your bridal gear.¡± The question brought her up short. Most of the goods Bessa packed for her upcoming nuptials were linens and utensils. Unusual for her, she took little interest in shopping for her future household. Instead, she accepted whatever her aunts or her grandmother brought to her. The trouble was, she knew what she liked, but she had no idea what he liked, and she felt a home should reflect both her and Lysander¡¯s preferences. Aunt Kalyna had heartily scoffed at this notion, pointing out that Bessa would be mistress of the domain. Aside from his office, her husband would properly leave outfitting the home to her. Having ¡®set her straight,¡¯ Aunt Kalyna thereafter made a point of including Bessa in the shopping trips with her cousin Dacia, to commission items for their new households. Bessa smiled fondly at the memory, especially the conversation she¡¯d overheard where her aunts conferred with each other about her ¡®strange attitude.¡¯ Being raised by a widow made Bessa bereft of an example of proper wifely behavior, they concluded. Obviously, her aunts must take matters in hand. At the time Bessa was amused, and a tad annoyed. Now she decided to look upon her aunts¡¯ actions as a sign of their love for her. A love she must savor more than ever, especially now that she was to live amongst the strangers in Lysander¡¯s household. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Bessa said slowly. ¡°Consider me your next client.¡± ¡°Perhaps my apartment will give you ideas for your house,¡± Edana said shyly. Bessa almost tripped over a display, and caught herself just in time. ¡°You keep an apartment?¡± she whispered, as if speaking of a scandal. Edana was already headed for the back stairs. She winked, and Bessa followed Edana, not sure she had heard her properly. Maybe Edana meant the apartment where Keziah lived? Where Keziah had lived with her brother, and was soon to vacate herself? Surely she couldn¡¯t mean she was living there? People their age, living independently? It was Just Not Done. Everyone stayed home until married, unless, maybe, they were men embarking on a political career. Marriage was generally around the corner for them. But of course, Edana was an orphan. It dawned on Bessa then that Edana had been unusually fortunate for an orphan with no family. Bessa frowned. The emperor had some sort of program for orphaned girls, but until now she had never given it any thought. She wanted to kick herself now. At least Edana had made a point of helping other orphans. So preoccupied was she with digesting this shocking aspect of Edana¡¯s life, that her climb up the stairs was more like sleepwalking. Later, Bessa concluded this was why Edana¡¯s desperate gambit worked: only Edana¡¯s sure, purposeful stride would have registered to anyone listening for it. When Edana reached her door she flipped open a key folded into a ring she wore on her left hand. She opened the door. Edana stopped short. Her back stiffened. Bessa¡¯s head jerked up when she heard a voice rasp, ¡°Don¡¯t scream, or he dies.¡± Chapter 19: The Incident at the Workshop XIX The Incident at the Workshop In which the enemy makes its move Edana reacted swiftly, launching herself into the room with one foot, twirling around on that same foot so that she shut the door the moment she cleared the entry. Bessa¡¯s heart leapt to her throat¡ªkeeping her screams from escaping, as she would later joke. In the moment; however, her pulse accelerated as she tried to think of her next move. How long did Edana have? Who was the man who threatened her? Who was the hostage? And what could she do to save them? Only when she saw Keziah stepping back inside the front room did Bessa realize she¡¯d run downstairs. Vaguely, she remembered last seeing Keziah giving farewells to the candidates. Good, they weren¡¯t a factor to take into account. The words that came from her mouth seemed to belong to someone else, but they were so perfect that Bessa didn¡¯t question them. ¡°Go to the Watch,¡± she said quietly. ¡°And please send in the guards.¡± Keziah cocked her head at Bessa. Her lips began to form a question, which Bessa intercepted. ¡°Edana is in danger. Please hurry.¡± She didn¡¯t wait to see if Keziah would obey, she simply turned and rushed to the workshop. The silversmiths were still carving their wax figures, breaking open molds, or polishing their creations. Quickly, Bessa looked over their tools, trying to guess which hammer, stake, or knife would make a suitable weapon. The scent of pitch and beeswax filled her nose, and for a moment she was transported to her childhood in the Nuriels¡¯ workshop. Then the faces of her vinedressers came back to her, and suddenly the world became very real to her. Clarity returned. The tongs by the oven caught her eye. Without a word Bessa strode over to the oven, swiping a towel from a work table as she went. Ever so casually, she folded the towel as she surveyed the men. If the men weren¡¯t here, they would be safe. Or, she could enlist them to fight the intruder. Or¡­ ¡°We are under attack. Someone is holding a hostage in Edana¡¯s apartment, and she¡¯s there, too. Are you all accounted for?¡± How calm she sounded! The smiths froze. As one, they alternated dropping their tools or mouths. Understanding dawned in their eyes when she reached back to tightly grip the tongs with the towel, and brought her would-be weapon to her side. ¡°I¡¯ve sent Keziah to the Watch, and my guards¡ª¡± At that moment, two of the hired guards rushed in and looked around. One frowned, clearly confused. ¡°Come with me,¡± Bessa said briskly. ¡°What¡¯s going¡ª¡± ¡°Now.¡± ¡°Wait¡ª¡± ¡°I think it¡¯s the Red Daggers,¡± Bessa said impatiently. ¡°We don¡¯t have time. Those of you willing to help, go to Edana¡¯s door. The guards and I are going in from the roof. The Red Daggers are vicious, and I won¡¯t think less of you if you would rather not face them. But please, someone should go and make sure Keziah reached the Watch safely.¡± She fled the room without waiting to see who would follow. Outside, shadowy figures moved about on the rooftop. Pointing up at them with her tongs, Bessa directed the guards. ¡°There. Edana is trapped inside. My guess is the hostage is one of your own.¡± The guards sprang into action, dashing up the back stairs two at a time. Bessa followed, holding the tongs out behind herself as she ran. On the roof she narrowly avoiding tripping over the remains of two strangers, clear losers in the battle against Edana¡¯s hired guards. Ignoring them, Bessa headed straight to her left, where she thought Edana¡¯s apartment would be. At the ledge she dropped to her knees and bent over to confirm her guess. Yes. A balcony below, with two doors¡ªand one obviously broken. From inside came Edana¡¯s voice, and Bessa¡¯s shoulders sagged with relief. Talking meant Edana was alive. However, the guards weren¡¯t by her side. They were looking over the dead strangers. Bessa jerked her tongs at one of the corpses. ¡°His head. Quickly. Give me his head.¡± The guards recoiled, and in the back of her mind Bessa was grimly amused. Obviously, the men were not Silurans, obliging Bessa to put iron in her voice when she repeated her order. ¡°Is¡ª¡± ¡°The head, please, and be quick about it. We¡¯re going in from the balcony over there. This will take the intruders by surprise, and allow us to overwhelm them. They will die. Edana and the hostage will live. Questions?¡± Bessa re-wrapped the towel around the tongs, this time to cover more than the handle. Back on the ledge she swung her legs over the side. With one hand on the ledge she allowed herself to dangle onto the balcony, in front of the intact door. This time, the guards were with her, as a backward glance proved. So silently did they move that she was glad they were on her side. One of them handed her the head she had requested. Bessa grimaced as she struggled to hold it tightly by its hair, which was gunked with pomade. When she succeeded in getting a grip she had to suppress her macabre mirth at the sight of its open, sightless eyes. Justice. Beheading him was justice. After all, he beheaded his victims. Perhaps they were watching, and enjoying this moment from wherever they ended up. ¡°Destroyer, be with me now,¡± Bessa whispered. Through the broken door she peered into the room. Inside, Edana stood near the center of the room. No injury marked her, and she sounded well enough as she spoke to someone whose back was to Bessa. Between Edana and the intruder lay Bana, leader of the guards they¡¯d hired. He was bleeding from a shoulder wound. Was it a fatal injury? This is for you, Grandfather, Bessa said to herself. Summoning every shred of courage, Bessa let out a bloodcurdling battle cry as she hurled the head inside the room. The intruder whirled about. She had just enough time to take pride in the expression on his face as his partner¡¯s head landed at his feet. Then the guards overtook her, rushing into the room in its wake. The entry door flew open. The brawniest of the silversmiths cascaded through, apparently using Bessa¡¯s scream as a signal from their side. In no time at all the intruder was vanquished, screaming as he clutched what was left of his hand. Bessa stepped forward, coldly pressing the hot tongs into the wound to cauterize it. The reversal of her purpose made her shake her head. Ostensibly her act gave the man medical aid, but she knew she had done him no kindness. Papouli had kept lenses in his office to use the sun¡¯s rays to cauterize wounds, which he had told her provided superior healing. By his standard her method was barbaric, and she felt a twinge of shame. ¡°Papouli, if you¡¯re watching, please forgive me,¡± she whispered. Aloud she said, ¡°Edana,¡± but she kept her eyes on the intruder, focusing on him as she listened for Edana¡¯s reply. The intruder stared at Bessa in shock and horror. Calmly, Bessa met his eyes. Did she look sufficiently fearsome? In her place, either of her grandmothers would have made the man wet himself. Beneath him, the floor remained distressingly dry, so she used her foot to roll his companion¡¯s head closer. ¡°Here.¡± Edana¡¯s voice came from somewhere to her left, light and calm. ¡°Are you hurt?¡± The intruder averted his gaze from Bessa, while she in turn scrutinized him. In his plain, unassuming tunic he passed for an ordinary workman. His tool belt hid his dagger in plain sight; the hilt could be taken for a tool. ¡°I don¡¯t have a scratch.¡± ¡°Do you have him?¡± Bessa asked the guards. The stranger eyed her warily. ¡°We have him,¡± came the cool reply. Armed with long knives and staves, five of the guards fanned out, neatly surrounding her and the intruder. Good. Taking the tongs with her, Bessa stepped away and took in the scene. Silversmiths surrounded her and Edana. In awe and disquiet they stared, their gazes traveling from her, to the head on the floor, and back again. A few openly appraised her. ¡°Are you a sorceress?¡± one ventured to ask. Bessa frowned, and stared at the tongs in her hand. Would a sorceress resort to a common tool? Wouldn¡¯t she use her powers against the cutthroats? In her stead Edana replied, ¡°Bessa is Siluran.¡± ¡°Ahh,¡± the man said, as if that explained everything. ¡°See if Keziah has returned,¡± Bessa said, directing herself to the smiths. ¡°If she made it to the Watch unharmed, we may let this man live. I count his hand as payment for Commander Bana¡¯s shoulder. Do you agree, commander?¡± As far as she knew the chief guard, Bana, was not officially ranked as a commander¡ªhe was no military officer¡ªbut it was the title bestowed on the chief guardsman in the Philomelos household. And it was not her way to skint on courtesies with people who had gone out of their way for her. Bana grunted, and stood up. ¡°It will do,¡± he growled. He clutched his shoulder, but maintained a stoic expression. Bessa smiled. She turned to the intruder and stopped smiling. ¡°Well, stranger, if the girl is unharmed, then your life goes on. If not, it ends here.¡± Behind her, one of the smiths reported that two of their number had already gone to check on Keziah. At that moment a shout came from below. ¡°Kyanopolis Watch! Stay where you are!¡± Footsteps pounded against the stairs to Edana¡¯s apartment, and in only a moment they were joined by four soldiers from the Watch. Edana smoothly took command at that moment. With a sweep of her hand she introduced her ¡°brave smiths,¡± her ¡°stalwart guards,¡± and her foster sister, Bessa. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°And this one here, with one hand less, is the one who wounded Bana, and threatened me¡ªafter breaking in, you see.¡± With that, she asked the remaining smiths to wait for her in the workshop. Reluctantly¡ªBessa could clearly see they didn¡¯t want to miss anything¡ªthe smiths went back downstairs, but not without extracting a promise from Edana to explain everything later. ¡°I tried, but I could not persuade my uninvited guest to share his name with me,¡± Edana sweetly continued once the smiths left. One of the watchmen rubbed his neck as he stared at the head still at the intruder¡¯s feet. ¡°Who was that?¡± Edana glanced at Bessa, who supplied the answer. ¡°A friend¡­? Brother¡­? Associate¡­? Connected somehow to Lord One Hand here. Maybe he will tell us. Or you. The rest of the O Bodyless One is on the roof, along with the body¡ªwith head attached¡ªof another friend-brother-associate.¡± ¡°Sooo¡­you took his head?¡± the watchman pursued, staring at Bessa as if she had two heads. ¡°I¡¯m Siluran,¡± she said innocently, and valiantly managed to maintain her innocent expression as Edana¡¯s shoulders shook with her silent laughter. Bessa eyed the watchman, whose light brown hair and dark eyes suggested an ethnic Rasenan heritage. Were Silurans alone in the belief that the soul resided in one¡¯s head? ¡°Oh. Right. Well then.¡± He cleared his throat and ordered the healer among his group to attend to Bana, then directed his attention to Lord One Hand. ¡°You are under arrest. You will submit yourself to our authority. Is that understood?¡± The man¡¯s eyes shifted from Bessa to the watchmen in undisguised calculation. Bessa glanced at Edana. As usual, Edana gave nothing away. Did she need to question him? Was she as unsuccessful in questioning him as she claimed to have been? Or did she have a plan? Bessa kept silent, following Edana¡¯s lead.
Edana folded her arms, watching silently as the guards jerked the would-be killer to his feet. One of the guards turned out to be a sorcerer, for he uttered something that made the intruder go rigid. His face slackened, a sure sign that his will was no longer his own. Startled, Edana flinched. Didn¡¯t sorcerers need to use blood spells to compel others? How did the sorcerer manage the compulsion spell? The sorcerer held no knife; the only object in his hand was something clasped around his neck. He let go of it, revealing a small glass ampoule with certain glyphs etched in low relief upon it. A blood vial. Such objects were typically used to carry the blood of dragons or other such creatures, but the sorcerer¡¯s bore a cartouche at the top, which would only have enclosed his own name. Edana couldn¡¯t help the small shudder that rippled through her. Until now, she naively assumed sorcerers intended honest dealings whenever they didn¡¯t carry knives. How else could they cut themselves? But now she knew they had a loophole. Two of the watchmen went up to the roof, and Edana and Bessa followed. A creaking noise made Edana glance at the far side of the roof. Her heart jumped in her throat. In keeping with the customs of her father¡¯s people, she kept a small dwelling on the roof for guests. For the past four years Keziah and her brother had lived there, since the dwelling included every amenity they needed. Someone had smashed open the front door. Just barely it hung on its hinges, creaking and squeaking in the breeze. Below her breath Edana thanked the Great Speaker that Isaac was now in Karnassus, and Keziah hadn¡¯t needed to run back to her room for anything. Keziah may well have been taken for her; they did have the same general description. Never in her life had Edana regretted so profoundly that she didn¡¯t resemble her mother. If she possessed Sorcha¡¯s inky black waves it would have protected Keziah from mistaken identity. Edana gritted her teeth, trying to clamp down firmly on her anger. Until she knew definitively otherwise, she would assume Keziah had not been waylaid. For now, she needed to concentrate on what was in front of her. She observed the watchmen as they examined the bodies, paying special attention to the one kneeling beside the body. A glint of light from that body caught her eye. She strode over and dropped to her haunches beside the watchman. ¡°Are you a sorcerer, too?¡± she asked. The watchman glanced at her, surprised. ¡°Is this just another day to you? Someone breaks in, tries to kill you, and your friend takes his head¡ªand you¡¯re not surprised? Impressed? Afraid?¡± Edana arched an eyebrow. ¡°I have survived worse. Neither of us are strangers to violence. Sir. Now, I ask you, are you a sorcerer?¡± ¡°Do you have enemies?¡± A reasonable question, but Edana decided it was best to throw him off the scent of the true situation. Every instinct told her this was a Star Dragon affair, not one for the Watch to deal with. If Murena truly was an infernal being, then Edana would do everything in her power to avoid involving bystanders. Even ones who were sorcerers. ¡°None, to my knowledge, and I have no acrimonious business rivals, either. Perhaps the bandits were after a ransom.¡± ¡°Any other reason?¡± ¡°Such as?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t appear to be married. You¡¯re not wearing the chiton or colors of a married woman.¡± Married Rasena Valentian women were permitted to wear the richest shades of blue and vermilion. Some matrons made a point of wearing at least accessories in those colors, but as far as Edana knew they weren¡¯t legally obligated to wear those colors. As for the style of chiton¡­well, Edana was showing a bit of ankle, so the man had her there. Roguishly, Edana again arched an eyebrow. He must be new to Kyanopolis, she said, if he didn¡¯t know that Terebinthian women didn¡¯t use colors to distinguish marital status. ¡°And for the record, I am skeptical that marriage-by-kidnapping is on the menu here. Let¡¯s stick with I-have-lots-of-money-to-pay-a-ransom. For all I know, the killers were here about my partner, who lives in Valentis.¡± The watchman stared steadily at her, and Edana was forthright in returning his stare. She broke the stalemate by speaking first. ¡°If you are not a sorcerer, I would like for you to get the one you brought with you, please. Look at the necklace this one is wearing.¡± Nothing unusual about the necklace, as least for her: a good luck charm from Yriel. Mama¡¯s homeland. Pearl divers by trade, the Yriellans also set great store by the charms they sold in market stalls throughout Silura. Of course, Mama never made those charms; she abandoned Yriellan beliefs once she decided to worship the Speaker. While on the one hand Edana was pleased her mother¡¯s people had penetrated as far as Kyanopolis¡­on the other hand she hoped their baubles were not yet widely known. With a wry smile she mentally acknowledged her plan depended on the watchman being ignorant. The watchman seized the necklace. His brow furrowed, and he turned the pendant over in his hands. ¡°Is this some kind of spell?¡± As he examined the necklace, Edana casually placed her hand over the dead man¡¯s. ¡°Surely your sorcerer could apprise you?¡± The watchman got to his feet, and turned to shout at his partner to ¡°go get Lucius.¡± Seizing the opportunity, Edana slipped off the ring she¡¯d spotted on the dead man¡¯s right hand. Surreptitiously she hid it in the sash she wore around her waist. Excitement made her nerves tingle. The ring was sardonyx, but it bore a concave glyph, which suggested it was not a seal ring. A keystone, surely. Did it, too, lead to Murena? She shook herself. More likely it led to whatever den or sewer or lair the Red Daggers dwelt in. The second watchman hurried off, and returned a few moments later with Lucius. When Lucius came up, the second watchman went back downstairs. Observing this, Edana suspected a time limit on how long a sorcerer¡¯s compulsion endured. Therefore, the watchmen couldn¡¯t risk a formerly-compelled prisoner getting a jump on them, hence two guards at a time. As soon as Lucius jogged over, Edana stood up and went over to Bessa. Bessa stared at Edana¡¯s sash, but said nothing. Sheer force of will kept Edana from grabbing Bessa and rushing downstairs. Since she had so insistently called attention to the necklace, it would seem odd not to stay and hear Lucius assay it. After a moment Lucius determined it was a benign charm, and of no consequence. He did not recognize its provenance, and Edana exhaled in relief. From their chatter, it was clear the watchmen weren¡¯t making any findings she needed to know about. As soon as she was sure they were engaged in only routine duties, Edana announced she was returning to the workshop. The watchmen nodded perfunctorily. To her surprise they followed her a short while later. More of their number awaited inside; apparently the watchmen were loath to leave with the prisoner until they were sure the place was secure. Lord One Hand¡ªEdana shook her head at Bessa¡¯s droll humor¡ªwas still docile as they led him away. How fast could the Star Dragons would break him out of the prison once she alerted them?Or, would they question him on the spot? She wanted to hurry now to Lady Nensela, who possessed a seer¡¯s ability to use any reflecting surface to contact anyone she pleased. In the workshop her smiths were chatting excitedly with Keziah, who stood in their midst, alongside someone Edana recognized from their temple. Seth, Keziah¡¯s betrothed. Until Keziah¡¯s letter announcing her betrothal, Edana had thought Seth was simply Isaac¡¯s friend. But the protective arm he held around Keziah underscored that Isaac was merely the pretext for Seth coming to her shop so often. She spared a moment to assess him. Respected by all who knew him, Seth always volunteered his assistance in times of crisis¡ªand not only with Keziah. He was kind, good humored, and quick witted. Furthermore, Edana had seen for herself that he was a skilled and clever carpenter, so he should not have any trouble providing for Keziah and any children they might have. An excellent choice. Quickly, Edana gave them the bare bones version of Lady Nensela¡¯s warning to hire guards, and explained that she had walked in on an intruder fighting one of those guards. They accepted this easily enough. Lady Nensela was the key factor. Eitanim usually kept foreign prophets at arm¡¯s length, when they didn¡¯t actively disregard them. However, Lady Nensela was Ta-Setian, and Eitanim and Ta-Setians shared history together. In times past Ta-Setians fought by their side, and offered either refuge or assistance. It was also not unusual for Ta-Setians to live in Eitan. On rare occasions, Lady Nensela strongly hinted she was part of that history. She respected the Great Speaker, and Eitanite customs, and fluently spoke their language. All of which made the Eitanim of Kyanopolis willing to heed her when she spoke, and Edana traded on that now. ¡°What of us? Will we be safe here?¡± ¡°I will hire a new set of guards for just this shop alone. And, if Keziah would like an escort to Eitan, I will provide that as well. But there¡¯s more,¡± she said, and took a deep breath. She told them of Lady Nensela¡¯s vision of the giants, and all who the giants had attacked so far, including Bessa¡¯s vineyard, and the Battle of Red Pointe. Last, she told them of the Pendrys¡¯ new weapon. ¡°This matter is not limited to Silura or the Cauldron or other places. All of Rasena Valentis is under attack.¡± Yes, even Eitan, though she didn¡¯t say that part aloud. ¡°Keziah is not the only one of us who will be leaving town. I must leave, too. I truly thought I would come and go too quickly for anyone to threaten this place, but I was wrong, and I¡¯m sorry.¡± They looked bewildered, and Edana wasn¡¯t sure why. Did they feel betrayed? Well why wouldn¡¯t they, after she failed so miserably to shield them from harm? Had the Red Daggers scried for her whereabouts in particular? Were they watching her shop all along, waiting for her return? Her fingers unconsciously strayed to her sash, where she¡¯d hidden the keystone. Visions of Bessa¡¯s vinedressers came to her, and she clenched her fist. Fortunate. Lord One Hand was damned fortunate to be in the tender care of the Watch, and far away from her firestone blades. Edana stared at the faces of her craftsmen. For the past five years she worked hard to win acceptance among the other Eitanim of Kyanopolis. To prove having an Yriellan mother and growing up in Silura did not make her less than. Captain Asher was right about one thing: knowledge of the Sayings of Truth could serve to smooth the way. Even so, Edana¡¯s Siluran accent, customs¡ªand most of all her name¡ªcounted against her. Silurans were so strange, so suspect a people after all. Barbarians! But her mother had named her for her own sister. She stood up for what was right. May you live to do the same, Mama had said to her. Bearing the name of her aunt, who had died long before Edana was born, was an honor Edana would never allow anyone to take from her. Changing her name to fit in was not an option. The men arrayed in her workshop, and Keziah, had welcomed her, and helped her to assimilate into the community. They didn¡¯t demand she give up her mother¡¯s legacy as a precondition of acceptance, and she treasured that about them. The knowledge that she had endangered them made her heartsick. ¡°There is one more thing. Tell everyone you can what I have told you here. In Silura I saw evidence that someone is actively trying to hinder us from defending ourselves against the giants. Someone wants them to win. I don¡¯t know what their goal is¡­but I do know a Sleepless Enemy is involved.¡± Sleepless Enemy was how the Eitanim referred to fellshades and other malevolent spirits. Edana had carefully reserved that detail for last. As with Silurans, Eitanim were likely to see the giants as not their problem. The giants¡¯ attacks were a Rasena Valentian affair, and whatever happened to the empire was not their concern¡ªso long as they were unscathed. Indeed, Eitan might benefit from the destruction of Rasena Valentis; surely Eitan would regain its independence. However, the malevolent entities of Erebossa had certain arresting, attention-grabbing qualities, which Edana was certain would focus her smiths¡¯ minds on the possibility that there were more important things at stake than temporal politics. If her coming journey wouldn¡¯t take her to Eitan, she wanted the ones gathered before her to make use of their connections to warn any kinfolk who resided there. At this news, the room grew so quiet she could hear the dulcet tones of the harpist rehearsing next door. The others exchanged looks. ¡°It¡¯s that serious?¡± Zedekiah demanded. ¡°It is,¡± she confirmed. Everyone began talking at once, peppering Edana with questions when they weren¡¯t making interjections. Suddenly, Keziah broke free and came up to her. To Edana¡¯s surprise, Keziah hugged her, clasping her in a tight embrace. ¡°You carry a heavy burden,¡± she solemnly observed. ¡°May the Great Speaker be with you. Know that wherever you go, whatever you must do, you take with you our love.¡± Chapter 20: Lair of the Red Daggers XX Lair of the Red Daggers In which the fight is taken to the enemy Fanuco¡¯s, Bessa discovered, was an all-purpose hangout. Boasting of a bath house, gym, library, and restaurant, Fanuco¡¯s served many of the more respectable citizens of Kyanopolis. Lady Nensela waited in one of the private banquet rooms which featured restrained, tasteful wall murals and floor mosaics of naiads and asrai at play. Kyane, patron naiad of Kyanopolis, figured prominently in the murals and the mosaics. An elegant and tasty assortment of platters greeted Bessa and Edana, predominantly seafood and the requisite sauces, but also roasted flamingos, and desserts featuring black cherries. At the far end of the room, open double doors framed a picturesque view of the bleached white sails of the ships gliding to and fro in the bay. Lady Nensela stood on the terrace beyond the double doors. Her hand shaded her eyes as she peered at the vista below. Edana stalked over to her, addressing her back as she demanded, ¡°Did you know?¡± Without turning around Lady Nensela replied, ¡°I take it you had trouble? Did I not warn you to keep your guards about you?¡± Drawing even with her Edana fired back, ¡°What about my people? All of them were in danger today¡ª¡± ¡°An unpreventable danger. The Red Daggers are looking for you, you specifically. Found you, did they? Now they know that is a dangerous thing to do. It is a necessary lesson. For them.¡± Edana did not appear mollified, and her next words confirmed it. ¡°I never would have brought danger to doorstep of my people! I do not want them to be¡ª¡± Lady Nensela turned at last and met her eyes. As usual, her inscrutable expression guarded her thoughts. ¡°Think of the situation a different way: your staff now know to be on their guard, and that you are in danger. Your people care for you, as they know you care for them. Think not of them as people you need to protect; think of them as people whose help you need. And now you both understand that. From now on, they can take their own measures to protect themselves. Better still, they can warn others. Which means there is less value in killing you, by the way.¡± ¡°This is some sort of plan?¡± With a sigh, Lady Nensela walked over to the banquet table. She ripped off a hunk of bread, and swirled it in a saucer of olive oil flecked with herbs and sea salt. ¡°What cause have you, to think I would plan for the Red Daggers to attack you, and yet not safeguard you? Nor did any vision came to me, for the Seeker is keeping Her silence. Accuse me not of treating the lives of others as my playthings.¡± She popped a small piece of the bread into her mouth and ate it. All of the color drained from Edana¡¯s face, and Bessa suspected the furnace of her temper was extinguished now. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I should not have implied¡ª¡± ¡°This matter is one of faith, girl. In the well from which I draw are aeons of experience. Thus I tell you: if the Seeker did give me a prophecy, only two reasons would I have for my silence: the will of the Seeker, and to avoid a prophecy trap.¡± ¡°A what?¡± They followed her to the table, and Bessa began pouring wine for the three of them. No slaves attended them here, and Bessa suspected this was at Lady Nensela¡¯s command; she wouldn¡¯t want anyone to overhear their business. Lady Nensela¡¯s own slaves stood outside, guarding the doors. Carefully, precisely, Lady Nensela began the lesson: a single outcome may have multiple paths leading to it. A fact she learned to rue. ¡°Change one simple thing, people think, and they have avoided the terrible outcome. Inevitably, they overlook a crucial detail, and invite upon themselves the fate they sought to avoid.¡± ¡°Is their fate unavoidable then?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°Often it hinges on the nature of the person involved. Tell a man he will be killed by the jealous husband of his lover, and he will avoid the current woman he is seeing. But if he habitually takes up with married women my advice is useless, for there are many possible husbands who might slay him.¡± ¡°So he better stop pursuing married women,¡± Bessa mused. A smile from Lady Nensela. ¡°As you say. In such cases I keep silent until the Seeker commands otherwise. When threads tangle on a loom, it is more helpful to convince you to manage your risks. Yet sometimes, the path to an outcome has just one fork: Do, or not do. Go, or stay. Such times come rarely, and I treasure them. Pain taught me this lesson, of when to speak and when to keep silent. I beg of you to accept the fruit of it now.¡± Her tone grew stern. ¡°In this matter, Edana, prophecy is not required: only foresight. You knew the Red Daggers are looking for you, and I have faith in your love for your friends. Will you not have faith in me?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± came Edana¡¯s swift reply. Bessa passed wine cups to her and Lady Nensela, and the three of them drank in silence. In the silence, Bessa considered Lady Nensela¡¯s words, and her actions that day. The prophet had dealt honorably with them, she judged. More, Bessa believed guilt was what ignited Edana¡¯s anger. Guilt over such evil people coming so near her friends. Gently Bessa pointed out, ¡°The Red Daggers¡¯ attack was inevitable. Consider we don¡¯t know how much they know, or what they intend about you. What else can you do other than what you already are doing? The timing was against us, is all.¡± ¡°My people will be safe if I close my shop.¡± She folded her arms beneath her breasts, a silent dare to challenge her. ¡°And endanger their livelihood?¡± Bessa countered. ¡°Will Atreus thank you for endangering his?¡± Inevitably, they overlook a crucial detail. Time to demonstrate that lesson, Bessa decided. ¡°The Red Daggers know you¡¯re an Eitanite. What keeps them from making incursions on the Sower¡¯s temple, to get to you?¡± As she hoped, Edana was jolted out of her defiant stance. Part of Bessa felt guilty for manipulating her, as though she were one of the dolls they played with as children. But Bessa used to accompany Papouli on his rounds, and neither screams nor tears deterred him from setting broken bones. ¡°There is only one fork in the road for you, sister mine: warn everyone, so they can be vigilant, or remain silent.¡± Hardening her voice Bessa added, ¡°Every burden doesn¡¯t need to be carried on your shoulders alone. You thought you¡¯d protect me from the Red Daggers if I didn¡¯t know about the giants. But that still left the giants, no?¡± ¡°But I¡ª¡± ¡°In your shop I let your smiths decide what risks they should take,¡± Bessa went on. ¡°And now Silas Atreus needs to decide; he needs to be on his guard. Closing your shop will not buy him any protection; surely the Red Daggers read his name on the sign over your door.¡± ¡°That¡¯s just it!¡± Edana exploded. ¡°Everyone close to me is in danger now. And there¡¯s nothing I can do about it.¡± Now Lady Nensela stepped in. ¡°Fear blinds you to your sister¡¯s counsel: warn everyone, and they will protect themselves. Let their lives be in their own hands, and not only in yours or our enemies. When you teach a man to fish, he may have spare nets when yours breaks: put people on alert, and they become your eyes and ears. Allies. Shall I remind you of the Sayings of your Speaker? Thus spake He: ¡®the watchmen must warn as well as guard.¡¯¡± Edana fell quiet. They gave her a moment to compose herself, and it was Edana who eventually broke the silence. ¡°Can Ziri scry this for us?¡± The ring she¡¯d hidden in her sash. ¡°The Red Dagger wore it. Perhaps it leads to their spymaster in Kyanopolis.¡± ¡°Soon we shall know; Ziri is already on his way,¡± Lady Nensela said. The questioning expression on Bessa¡¯s face prompted her to explain that Ziri was the master arcanus of the Star Dragons. ¡°Perfect, I¡¯ll ask him to send someone to the Watch, too,¡± Edana said. ¡°Another Red Dagger is still alive to answer questions.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll take care of that,¡± said a voice behind Bessa. Bessa jumped, then whirled in shock, but Nensela and Edana were used to Ziri. Lady Nensela didn¡¯t even turn around; she simply poured a fourth cup of wine. The young man before them was lithe and muscular, which his short-sleeved tunic emphasized. The tunic matched his forest green trousers, but his belt, leather with a clasp of chased bronze, suggested he was a man of status. Reddish highlights glinted in his brown hair, which he wore down to his shoulders. The string he used to tie it back matched his clothes. Ziri stared at Bessa, sizing her up as he accepted the cup Lady Nensela handed him. ¡°Nice work taking down Gagnon.¡± Bessa¡¯s eyelids fluttered in her surprise. She had not figured on being included in any reports. How had he managed to enter the room from the balcony? Lady Nensela had been looking at the bay when they had come in. ¡°Pleased to meet you,¡± she said. ¡°How did you get in here?¡± He only smiled enigmatically and drank his wine. Lady Nensela gestured to Edana. ¡°Did you learn anything from your would-be captor?¡± Quickly, Edana briefed Ziri on the attack at her workshop. ¡°The man believes I am a Star Dragon, and I let him think I am. But he seemed confused about it.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Bessa asked. At this part Edana¡¯s eyes brightened with excitement. The Red Dagger let slip they did use some sort of power to track the Star Dragons. ¡°He said they needed to use their ¡®usual¡¯ methods to find me. Somehow I eluded them in Silura, even though they were using their ¡®new power.¡¯ And ¡®Lord One Hand¡¯ implied they were over-relying on it. It seemed to disgust him.¡± Ziri interrupted here. ¡°If it is power, then it¡¯s more than I would think any sorcerer would have. It¡¯s more than a sorcerer would dare to seek. The cost is too high.¡± ¡°Murena,¡± Bessa whispered. Ziri raised his eyebrows, and Lady Nensela in turn told him what Bessa and Edana uncovered so far. When she reached the part about Murena, Ziri froze. For several heartbeats he stared in shock at the floor. ¡°By the Seeker,¡± he gasped. ¡°Erebossi are involved! Damn. Yet it¡¯s the only answer that makes sense. I must take this to my staff.¡± Edana handed him the ring. ¡°Can you scry where this goes?¡± Ziri clasped the ring tightly in his hands. After a moment, he smiled slowly in undisguised satisfaction. ¡°Yes. The blood of our brothers will be repaid with blood. Their shadow master can do as he pleases with them when we send them to meet him.¡± A shiver went through Bessa. Lady Nensela pressed, ¡°Is our hope vindicated? The ring leads to the Red Daggers¡¯ headquarters? Strike fast. Undoubtedly the Red Daggers realize they have failed in their attack, and they will likely assume the ring is compromised. Strike, before they turn the ring into a trap.¡± ¡°I will come with you,¡± Edana said, surprising them all. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious,¡± Bessa protested. ¡°These are killers. They¡ª¡± Edana held up a hand. ¡°If the Red Daggers know they failed, they will try again to come at me. As you said, they may strike my temple. So, let me serve as bait. I¡¯ll take the ring and demand an audience.¡± ¡°And how will you explain why you know they were looking for you? Wouldn¡¯t they realize you must have a seer¡¯s help? Lady Nensela¡¯s?¡± ¡°Because Lord One Hand told me so, a very plausible lie I can tell them. If he is dead, he cannot contradict me. Failing that, if they somehow don''t already know of Lady Nensela, why would they look beyond the Star Dragons for an explanation? Let them continue to think the Star Dragons and I are one and the same prey. However, they do know of my shop, and a group did attack Lady Nensela¡¯s conclave last spring. Likely the Red Daggers. Either way, we have nothing to lose, and we are not in any further danger.¡± She glanced at Ziri, and he nodded. ¡°But¡ª¡± Bessa stopped. For once she was bereft of convincing arguments. Finally she settled on asking, ¡°What will keep them from filling you with arrows from head to toe? When you approach their stronghold, why will they not kill you on sight, instead of talking?¡± This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°The Red Daggers were instructed to take me, not kill me, as they do with any other Star Dragon. Let them think they have my cooperation.¡± ¡°That¡¯s an awfully slim tether to hold onto,¡± Bessa said, glancing at Ziri to check his reaction. The thoughtful expression on his face suggested he was considering Edana¡¯s insane idea. Bessa frowned. Surely he should be talking some sense into Edana, on professional grounds at the least? What would possess an expert arcanus to draft an ordinary silver broker into his battle plans? Edana said, ¡°We won¡¯t go in blind, will we, Ziri? You will do a quick, yet hopefully thorough reconnaissance, and we will plan accordingly, will we not?¡± Again Ziri nodded. Enough. Through clenched teeth Bessa addressed Ziri. ¡°Is vengeance worth so much to you?¡± Now Ziri was roused to speak. ¡°I promise you, Edana will not be in any further danger than she is already. The fact is, she cannot run forever. Either the Red Daggers are taken down, or she will be. They need to fear us, and learn they cannot hunt the Star Dragons with impunity. And Edana is right. She is in danger the same as us; therefore, let her be one of us.¡± Edana¡¯s hand flew to her mouth. ¡°Ziri!¡± ¡°No recruit in recent memory has done as much as you have done for us. If you¡¯re going to take risks in our name, then you should not be left in the cold.¡± To Bessa¡¯s surprise, Edana rolled her eyes. In fact, she looked downright irritated. Bessa held her tongue; silence might aid her cause better. Hopefully. ¡°I am not taking risks in your name. With respect, you are irrelevant to my motives. I am taking risks because I believe Lady Nensela¡¯s vision. That is why I¡¯m giving up the life I built. Whether you or the Star Dragons are involved makes no difference, only stopping the giants matter.¡± With a sweep of his arm, Ziri bowed. ¡°Your motives are noble. Mine are not. I am offering to initiate you into our ranks for purely selfish reasons: you are effective, which we need. And it¡¯s not all one-sided; you will have certain benefits if you are one of us. Star Dragons have allies and covenants going back thousands of years, sweet thing. If you are one of us, you will have that aid.¡± Cold despair washed over Bessa. Edana was too ruthlessly sensible to turn down Ziri¡¯s offer, she was sure. Unable to resist any longer, Bessa tried again, ¡°But whoever or whatever allows the Red Daggers to scry you¡ª¡± ¡°Will be known to us soon,¡± Ziri said. ¡°Do not fret. Avenging my people is not my prime motive. This mission is critical for all of us.¡± Lady Nensela stepped forward, and Bessa stiffened in anticipation. Would she have a convincing counter argument? However, all she said was, ¡°Do not let the timing be against us in this matter as well.¡± Edana¡¯s spine straightened, and she looked Bessa right in the eye. Emotionless, as she had been in Bessa¡¯s vineyard before going after the giants. Her battle guise, and Bessa shuddered before allowing herself to slump in defeat. ¡°I will go,¡± Edana said briskly. ¡°Now is the time for strategy,¡± Lady Nensela counseled. ¡°The ring key you have will grant me access to the Red Daggers¡¯ den, in a special way. I will send myself ahead, and prepare the ground.¡± Together Bessa and Edana said, ¡°What?¡± Ziri smiled, his eyes crinkling. ¡°Brilliant!¡± Merriment danced in Lady Nensela¡¯s eyes as she replied, ¡°Bilocation, my dears. For an experienced seer, it is a matter of using an object to ¡®send¡¯ our spirits to a place the owner of the object had been to.¡± ¡°Yet I sense there¡¯s a reason this skill is not a party trick,¡± Edana said dryly. ¡°Quite. For an echomancer there is little risk, as they are only observing the past. However scryers, who observer the present, are subject to enemies who may sever their souls from their body.¡± Bessa shuddered, and Edana hugged herself. Both started to speak an objection but Lady Nensela raised her hand, quelling them. ¡°Fear not,¡± she said. ¡°As a prophet, I can project an apparition of myself, and see through its eyes as I keep my spirit in my body. In this fashion I can scout the Red Daggers without endangering myself. The Red Daggers will be off guard, and when Edana comes, they will fear her, for I shall make them fear her. The timing must be proper and precise. Do you understand?¡± Edana¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°How do you know if they can¡¯t trap your¡­apparition? Or destroy it? What will that do to you?¡± ¡°Did I not say I draw from a vast well of experience? Since my body and spirit will stay here, an enemy scryer will have no way to destroy me. Further, if Murena is among them, I will sense him. If Murena is not among them, then plan on wiping them out. Let it be so.¡±
Something was wrong. Men kept their voices low, and looked around out the corners of their eyes. Faces grim. And everyone who was not part of the inner circle made a point of busying themselves with trying to look busy. Now the boss showed up. One sharp snap of his fingers to cut the pomp he usually expected when he graced them with his presence. Something must be up. Ruffo sidled up to Bocca, who acted so busy, sharpening blades with his whetstone. The Red Dagger fortress aped a typical military fortress, except it was underground. Which put Bocca in a good position, as the weaponsmith was across the courtyard from the boss¡¯s office. Who came in, who went out, what they said along the way¡ªnone of it got past Bocca¡¯s eyes and ears. Bocca wiped the sweat off his brow¡ªwell check that out, he was not pretending to work!¡ªand glanced at Ruffo. ¡°Don¡¯t even ask. Nothin¡¯ makes no sense to me,¡± he said. ¡°So tell me, and I¡¯ll make sense of it,¡± Ruffo retorted. All he got from Bocca was a slit-eyed glare. Reflexively, Ruffo folded his arms and stood his ground. ¡°What, no sunshine and flowers from you today?¡± ¡°You mean you don¡¯t know?¡± Bocca demanded. The accusation in Bocca¡¯s tone caught Ruffo off guard. So much so that he checked his vestigial conscience. Did he owe Bocca money? Something else? Nah, he was good. ¡°Humor me.¡± ¡°We had her. Or we were supposed to.¡± Blank stare. ¡°The girl? The one we¡¯ve been searching for? The Terebinthian?¡± ¡°Mm. What about her?¡± ¡°We found her is what. Fabian took a group to get her.¡± Confusion began to ebb, just a little bit. So, Bocca¡¯s brother went out on a mission. This worried Bocca? For serious, he was worried? ¡°Are we at the part where this gets interesting?¡± ¡°Are they here? Didn¡¯t come back, did they? Not a one of ¡¯em.¡± A different sort of man might have tried to look reassuring. But Ruffo¡¯s scars, sharp snaggletooth, and pig eyes made his face better suited for threats. ¡°Bocca, we ain¡¯t got a schedule or a curfew. Could be Fabian took the scenic route with this girl.¡± The leer came easy to him. Surprisingly, Bocca rolled his eyes instead of laughing. All while he tossed a knife behind himself into a block of wood. Bam, landed right on the mark. Show off. Didn¡¯t even check; he was already moving on to another knife. ¡°Wax in your ears, Ruffo? Gallo doesn¡¯t want her harmed. And the big-ups are here, you do see that, right? Something not-good is happening here.¡± Alright. Fine. Point made, so think about it. What was special about the Terabinthian? Nothing, not a damn thing. Oh, she was a Star Dragon, but they had ways of dealing with Star Dragons now. Also, there was only one of her. Also-also, she was not a sorceress. Add all that together ¡­ and Fabian should be back by now. Queasiness settled in his gut. Catch that girl at all costs, said the boss. What he didn¡¯t say was why. Usually, Ruffo didn¡¯t need reasons, a simple order was enough. Still. Something seemed not-right about Gallo¡¯s insistence on catching her. Ever since¡ªever since that meeting, the boss had changed. Priorities, missions, everything was out of order now. Ruffo hadn¡¯t gone to the meeting. Only two of the inner circle joined the boss for it, and Ruffo couldn¡¯t shake the feeling eavesdroppers would be horribly punished. The boss and the chosen two emerged from the meeting tight-lipped. And shaken. And the boss laid down the law: never go into his office. For any reason. Unless he told you to. Now, though? The boss was ordering people to come in and see him¡­in his office. ¡°What do you know about the Terebinthian?¡± Ruffo demanded suddenly. ¡°Is she some arcana, or something else? Could be it¡¯s a coincidence the boss is¡ª¡± Bocca glanced up from the knife he was sharpening. Looked sharp enough to Ruffo, but he mostly needed the knives to look scary, not sharp. Still, Bocca kept sharpening, so Ruffo clamped a hand down on Bocca¡¯s wrist. The fellow¡¯s eyebrows practically flew off his face, but Ruffo figured Bocca wouldn¡¯t take his actions as a threat. Bocca was too smart to think Ruffo was that dumb. Meaty as they were, Ruffo¡¯s hands were dwarfed by Bocca¡¯s skull-crushing fists. The brawny smith easily outweighed him, and in a fight, Bocca had only to sit on him. ¡°This is important,¡± Ruffo insisted. ¡°Tell me. What do you know about the Terebinthian?¡± ¡°Nothing that matters. Wait. Wait. Let me think. Fabian was irritated about her. Didn¡¯t think she was a real Star Dragon, because we couldn¡¯t find her like we could the others. Our secret weapon failed us.¡± Sarcasm rang in his voice, and Ruffo tittered in camaraderie. By Khratu¡¯s feather the leadership in this unit was governed by magpies. Look at their strategies lately. Smart? Who cares! Not them. Shiny? All in. Disgusting. Right now their ¡®secret weapon¡¯ was oh so shiny. Yeah, wiping out the Star Dragons was great and all, but come on. They weren¡¯t supposed to be common thugs. Not like those other gangs. Being a Red Dagger meant something. What they did took cunning. Art. Their work was art. And the ¡®secret weapon¡¯ cheapened that, like some two-bit whore. Their scryers were already grumbling about being left out of the juicy missions, and Ruffo didn¡¯t blame them. On the other hand, he didn¡¯t give a damn, either. What good did the scryers ever do when it came to Star Dragons? Plenty of chances for glory, but they failed every single time. The principle was real simple: losers take the easy way. A Red Dagger is canny enough to make his own luck. A rule Ruffo lived by. ¡°Good. I¡¯m glad it failed. Maybe the big-ups will shut up about it now. What else?¡± ¡°Word is, she was at Red Pointe when Gagnon went down. And the giants.¡± Ruffo shifted his weight. Grudgingly, he admitted to himself the girl might be due some respect. He managed to rally, ¡°And the army helped. Come on, she didn¡¯t do it herself.¡± ¡°Put a head on your body, man. Giants! Think what it means that she walked away from a fight with them. How¡¯d she do that?¡± ¡°Look. Star Dragon. Remember? We got ways, they got ways; I ain¡¯t impressed, and you shouldn¡¯t be, either.¡± Bocca¡¯s words died in a grunt in this throat; something behind Ruffo made his eyes grow as big as dinner plates. Quickly, Ruffo whipped around. And jumped. A woman stood in the center of the courtyard. Seer. Obvious, because of the fancy bauble in that circlet thing on her head. Right. Why was she staring at the boss¡¯s door? Why was she here? Also. The lady didn¡¯t walk. No, she glided forward, ignoring Bocca¡¯s shocked mutterings, and taking no notice of Ruffo¡¯s drawn short sword. Not a second glance at them, let alone a first. Ruffo whistled loudly, piercing the din of chatter inside and beyond the courtyard. All eyes on him. Then her, and they recoiled. So disciplined, they all reached for their weapons and started forward. In the lead, Ruffo held up a hand for them to halt. Still the seer ignored them, as if she couldn¡¯t take her eyes off Gallo¡¯s door, not even when Ruffo whistled. ¡°You there, lady! Can I help you?¡± By now Ruffo drew even with her, but he had to walk double time to keep up with her. Only then did she look at him. Or rather, right through him, as if he were of no consequence at all. Unarmed women never looked at him like that. This lady made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. She gave him a sunny smile, and Ruffo took a step back before he realized what he was doing. He clenched his jaw, furious. ¡°Thank you for offering,¡± she said softly. ¡°Gallo, please. I must have words with him.¡± Ruffo didn¡¯t want to take his eyes off her, but he didn¡¯t need to look around to know the others were trading glances with each other. Even if she were one of the boss¡¯s women, it was not possible he was careless enough to give one of them the way into their headquarters. No, he was far too disciplined for that; no face was pretty enough for him to do something so ridiculous. ¡°Gallo¡¯s a little busy, sweetheart,¡± he said. ¡°Why don¡¯t you wait for him at your usual place¡ªwherever it is.¡± Some things Gallo didn¡¯t need to know. Ruffo knowing where he met his mistresses? Right at the top. Ruffo gave her the once-over. Beautiful. Beddable¡ªwhat made high class women like her go for Gallo? What did he have that they wanted? The woman just laughed. The world began to spin, and everybody started turning into twins. Why did he feel so woozy? ¡°Gallo,¡± she sang out. ¡°Come out, Gallo. We must have a chat.¡± Oh, she was a dead woman. No way Gallo would forgive her this. Coming in here, snapping her fingers in front of his men? Rich or not, big-time papa or not, Gallo would teach her real quick who really held the whip-hand: not her. Not in front of his men, that¡¯s for damn sure. ¡°Get out of here,¡± Ruffo warned her, when the room stopped spinning for a moment. ¡°Gallo will¡ªGallo will¡ªGallo¡¯s gonna be pissed.¡± Talking was a struggle. So was seeing, for that matter. For a minute he closed his eyes. Room couldn¡¯t dizzy him if his eyes weren¡¯t open to see the spinning, right? Wrong. Also suicide, maybe, because the woman couldn¡¯t be trusted. Count to ten, look again. When he opened his eyes, Gallo was standing in the doorway to his office. Staring at them. Why didn¡¯t he look pissed? Anybody¡¯d think his face was like a kid¡¯s toy, all stiff and wooden. Hmm. If the woman slapped Gallo, would she live to tell about it? Ruffo lowered his sword, so no one could see his hands shake. Either their leader had gone so soft he let his womenfolk humiliate him in public, or¡­ What was she? Could she be that rare breed, a seer and a sorceress? Wait, was she even human? Dryad. Oh! His sphincter tightened, right on time. Some said tree nymphs could leave their groves, but some also said the dryads were strange. Dangerous. Little kids might be safe around them, but not men like him. Suddenly, the room vanished. A roar pounded Ruffo¡¯s ears. An eternity went by before he realized he was screaming as well. Wait. Was he awake? Where was he? ¡°Where are we?¡± Bocca¡¯s voice sounded far off. Bocca¡¯s shaky voice. That detail alone almost brought a tear to Ruffo¡¯s eye, and he wasn¡¯t even ashamed. The answer to where, was: some sort of clearing. A rocky clearing, with no trees. Air like sulfur. Thin sulfurous air, so they were high up. Jet black soil under his sandals ¡­ just like at Mount Grenn. She¡¯d moved them to the Cauldron! But how? Teleporting a cohort of people to some place hundreds of miles away took power. But Gallo¡¯s secret ally had gelded the sorcerers good and proper, so they couldn¡¯t do things like that anymore. Yet here they were¡­ ¡°Do I have your attention?¡± Ruffo whirled. She was sitting there, on a throne-like arrangement of rocks. Yeah, she looked like a queen, too. The kind with her own personal, jewel-crusted bone scourge. She was no longer laughing. Gallo swore. Good. Good, Gallo looked like himself again. Glaring at the woman in that cold, slit-eyed way that reassured Ruffo something was right in the world. In the distance a low, deep, throaty growl reverberated, bouncing off the mountain walls and into Ruffo¡¯s bowels, chilling them. The only time he ever heard that sound, he prayed he would die before hearing it again. A dragon. Chapter 21: Cauldron XXI Cauldron In which a strange voice cries out Lady Nensela studied the men, focusing on the leader. Typically enough, he did the talking while his lackeys did the cowering. Good. She was sure she hadn¡¯t overdone it on the theatrics. Senet always said she had a flare for the dramatic. ¡¯Twas a pity he wasn¡¯t here for this; the havoc they might wreak together! Alas, circumstances obliged them to remain separated for the time being. ¡°You want revenge,¡± Gallo said flatly. Regal stance with his hands on his hips. No doubt he meant for his bright white, knee-length tunic to signal his wealth and battle prowess. She raised an eyebrow. Revenge? Oh, fascinating. ¡°You think we¡¯re going to give you back your sister or daughter or whatever. Well, it¡¯s not going to happen. We have her somewhere you can¡¯t get her. Not even you can get her back. Kill us if you want, but she stays right where she is. And you¡ªwe know how to deal with you.¡± ¡°I doubt that,¡± she said quietly. Bluffing was his best move, and she didn¡¯t blame him for his attempt. Did he think she was bluffing? Best to teach him otherwise, and fast. But¡ªwhy did he not know what she was? The lapis stone in her circlet marked her as a prophet, yet he reacted as if she might be something else. What matter weighed on him so, to cloud his thoughts so utterly? Gallo¡¯s nostrils flared, but he said nothing. With a practiced eye Nensela studied him. This man led an order of cutthroats, no job for a schoolboy, and yet he now made a schoolboy¡¯s mistake: he made an empty threat to her. Worse, a threat all could see was empty. Fools did not rise to his position, and he was no exception. Again she wondered: what rattled him? Something must have knocked him off balance before she arrived. Murena? Suppressing a shudder, she calmly considered the idea. In fact, if Murena was involved, then she must take care not to rattle Gallo. For now, she focused on what Gallo said. In his words, she had come to avenge someone¡¯s capture, a woman. Who? And how might Nensela free her? The answer lay in finding out who Gallo believed her to be. ¡°I didn¡¯t come here to negotiate,¡± Nensela said at last. Which was true, and if Gallo had truth-seers among his gang, they would sense her sincerity. Pitiless, she added, ¡°I came here to let you know that today is the last day you will have on this side of Erebossa. What you make of that is your own affair.¡± There. In her plans, her status as a prophet would have been sufficient cause for terror: if a prophet says you will die, you are done for, no? That the men believed she was something more terrifying than a prophet suited her fine. Murmurs rippled through the ranks of men. Gallo still glared at her, but she knew he now needed to assert control of his men. He needed to keep their hysteria in check¡­before someone killed him to appease her. All she had to do was continue to look unyielding and implacable. Gallo snapped his fingers. ¡°Kill her. Be quick about it.¡± Ah. Not unexpected a gambit. As she hoped, he was giving her an opening to demonstrate his helplessness. Time to make it so. A man stepped forward. The stout golden-haired man pointed his short sword at her. With a shout, he rushed toward her. With a flick of her wrist, he vanished from their sight. The murmuring grew raucous, and the swearing began in earnest. A scarred man fought his way to Gallo. He caught Gallo¡¯s attention, and whispered something to him. Sitting quietly, Lady Nensela idly wondered when someone would get the nerve to speak to her. She didn¡¯t have long to wait. ¡°What did you do to him?!¡± ¡°I believe you mean to ask, ¡®what will I do to you,¡¯ do you not?¡± There. Flame struck, all she had to do was wait for them to fan it. Let them burn down their own house. ¡°What do you want?¡± another demanded. Another, but not Gallo, she noted. ¡°Nothing you have.¡± Silence. They looked to Gallo, who looked to her. She had said she would not negotiate, and the set of Gallo¡¯s jaw said he now believed her. When he believed himself to be staring at death, what would he do? What would he say? While the tension grew, Nensela let her senses roam. No sign of Murena. Thank the Seeker. No need to flee, not yet. But she was not alone. Not for the first time was she glad for her age. She had stacked the balance in her favor by using a distinctive, strong memory for the fa?ade she¡¯d created. However, in her youth she could not have carried off the feat of keeping the fa?ade even as she Called out, who is there? At least now, when she needed it most, she could call upon her experience as she would a servant. The answer to her Call came faintly at first. Nensela Called again, reaching out with her mind to seek the voice. Careful, she warned herself. In her current state, nothing Gallo or his cohort could do would harm her. But she was not invulnerable to other traps. Had not Mother schooled her well? Schooled her via countless stories of seers who had gone Sending, without care to whom¡ªor what¡ªthey spoke to while doing so. Your daughter heeds your wisdom, Mother. Whatever resided in the depths of the Red Daggers¡¯ headquarters had set Gallo on edge, and that was enough to make her wary as well. The voice grew more desperate, and in its desperation grew Lady Nensela¡¯s unease. ?Help me.? It took everything she had not to flee then and there. The clarity of the voice told her one thing for certain. It was not human.
Calm. Stay calm. True, an inhuman intellect had just petitioned her¡ªbut the intellect could easily belong to a benign resident of this world. Salamandra, dryads, naiads, khrestai¡ªNensela had met all such in her lifetime. However. Capturing such beings was no small task; dryads in particular were dangerous prey. If the Red Daggers captured one, it would account for Gallo¡¯s reaction to her, for she was a woman who appeared to have strange powers. A dryad could explain Gallo¡¯s disregard for her wearing the trappings of a seer. What care would a dryad have for human sumptuary laws, if she troubled herself to know them? Further, fearing the presence of a vengeful dryad would blind him to reason, as he appeared blinded now. Still, she must proceed with care. The men were getting restive. Undoubtedly they were weighing the possibility of rushing her en masse. Idle children got into ever so much mischief; had not her sweet sons taught her this? Time to distract them. Since they believed she had moved them to the Cauldron, and had ¡®dispensed¡¯ with one of their number with ridiculous ease¡­ A distinctive roar filled the air, and was joined in short order by another, then another. One of the roars sounded perilously close. ¡°Feeding time has come,¡± Nensela said. The swearing grew in earnest. One man wet himself. Mustering sympathy, Nensela looked away. The poor dear believed dragons were coming to eat him, after all. Their fear became fevered, and Nensela used the distraction to answer the voice. ?How is it that you need my help?? Out of extreme prudence she did not add, what are you? The petitioner responded, and at first Nensela had trouble making out the words, but then she caught one fragment. ?¡­Unholy¡­? Nensela warily asked her to repeat herself. ?They bind me with unholy chains. Free me!? An imperious voice; the owner was used to obedience. Unholy chains? Nensela paused. Whatever the woman was she wasn¡¯t a Salamandran, for they could be bound by ordinary means. But the dryad hypothesis was looking more and more likely. No ordinary sorcerer could bind a daughter of the Huntress, no god would grant such power. But an abyssal might. Well then. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ?How do I free you?? The men were screaming for Gallo to ¡°do something,¡± and Nensela divided her attention again to deal with them. ¡°You do not wish to be eaten alive? I shall grant one boon only: that you die on your feet, as men ought to.¡± ¡°Wait!¡± the scarred man next to Gallo cried out. ¡°Your time is up,¡± she said mildly. ¡°And you have what mercy I will grant you. Accept it.¡± Gallo stood frozen, his eyes unfocused. The man looked so manifestly unprepared that Nensela almost felt sorry for him. But in the end, she could spare no pity for anyone with the hubris to capture the daughter of a god. How did he justify his endeavor to himself? A wise man would have prepared an escape from the consequences. What was Gallo¡¯s plan? ¡°This isn¡¯t how¡ªthis isn¡¯t the way¡ªwe¡¯ll give her back! We¡¯ve done nothing to hurt her, we swear.¡± It was the scarred man again. ¡°You have bound her with unholy chains,¡± Nensela pointed out. ?Do not bargain with them!? Ah. So, the captive was aware of events; she was not just responding to Nensela¡¯s Call. Yet, she apparently could not read Nensela¡¯s intentions. Perhaps Nensela was as strange to her as she was to Nensela? ?Do not interfere, or I can¡¯t help you.? The scarred man started to speak again, but Nensela decided she¡¯d had enough. ¡°Do not dare to lie to me. To free her, you must cross the will of your master. Is his wrath to be taken lightly? Yet if you summoned such courage¡ªor foolishness¡ªwhat of the wrath of your captive? A fine trap you have fashioned for yourself, with death at either end. Death itself will be no refuge, only the beginning of your sufferings. In the name of the Destroyer I say to you now: ready yourself.¡± ¡°But you always offer¡­¡± the scarred man¡¯s voice trailed off. Ah. Nensela understood now. Traditionally, prophets carried a dual message of punishment, and avoidance of that punishment. If you keep doing this, that will happen to you. Naturally, the way out was to avoid ¡®this.¡¯ And, there was usually the option to repent and atone. Usually. But when the khrestai appeared, the Scouring began. The prophets gave plenty of warnings, but the sorcerers never set eyes upon the khrestai until the khrestai decided the time for warnings was over. With that in mind, Nensela suspected the scarred man must have told himself that there was a way of escape for him, because of the ¡®rules¡¯ that khrestai, dryads, and prophets appeared to operate by. She had just cut off that escape. They were desperate now. Cornered. They would give it their all to fight, because they must. She allowed them to see her smile. It is time, she told herself. Enter Edana.
One hour earlier¡­ The public aerie was abuzz with Star Dragon arcana flitting to and fro, from one squad to the next. Lady Nensela had chosen the aerie for their staging ground, as soon as Ziri and his arcana scried out the Red Dagger fortress. Which turned out to be in a cave near the peak of Mount Adamant, the summit of the Shield Mountains that Kyanopolis was built around. Timing was everything. Gryphons could fly faster than a horse could run, and the public aerie offered a plentiful supply of gryphons. However, the beasts weren¡¯t battle trained, which told Bessa that Nensela wanted them strictly for transportation. The Star Dragons commandeered the office of the beast master prime, which was at the top of the tower, directly above the holding pen where the gryphons were kept. Bessa had expected resistance, but Nensela¡¯s status as a Seeker¡¯s Own helped them. The beast master prime did not even flinch when Lady Nensela ordered him to ensure no one disturbed her. Likely this had something to do with the exorbitant rental fee she offered, which left him smiling as he hastily retreated. As soon as they entered the room, Nensela lay down on the sofa and clasped the keystone ring tightly in her hand. ¡°Be ready,¡± she said, before her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Bessa recoiled, and Edana gasped. They glanced at the Star Dragons, who seemed unfazed by Lady Nensela¡¯s condition. ¡°So this is a Sending,¡± Edana whispered. She stationed herself next to the seer, and watched her intently. Unable to help, Bessa paced the mezzanine overlooking the city. As she brooded she kept an eye on the beast masters walking on the deck below. By their excited chatter she knew her group mystified them. Could a Red Dagger lackey be lurking amongst the beast masters? If she were commanding the Red Daggers, she would make it her business place spies in the lighthouse, the aerie; all of the high points of the city. Had Lady Nensela taken this possibility into account? Slaves were often ignored or forgotten, and the last thing they needed was for their mission to be undone by someone hiding in plain sight. Fresh in her mind was memory of Lady Nensela¡¯s lesson about prophecy traps. To avoid one, Lady Nensela had to be keenly aware of the nature of the people involved in the prophecy, and anticipate their behavior in a given set of circumstances. For this reason, Bessa sought out the battle scryer, Damya. Several Star Dragons surrounded her, and they conferred together in low voices. They looked up when Bessa joined them. Bessa asked, ¡°Are you able to tell if an enemy is among us? If there is a Red Dagger among the beast masters or servants in the aerie?¡± Damya held up a small glass globe. Unlike the world globes that bore etchings of the empire of Rasena Valentis and the surrounding lands, hers was a map of the city of Kyanopolis and its surroundings. When a scryer activated its power, the water inside the globe turned a deep lapis blue, providing a necessary contrast to the gold lines of the map. Not only was the water in Damya¡¯s globe blue, but the gold lines were glowing. Two points adjacent to each other glowed especially bright. Damya glared at her globe. ¡°Indeed.¡± Only then did Bessa notice the rings she clasped in her other hand. One she recognized as belonging to the severed hand of ¡®Lord One Hand.¡¯ The other rings must belong to the arcani who had accompanied him. Having the rings meant Damya could scry out anyone who had touched them. One of the bright spots on the globe was the summit of Mount Adamant, which led to the Red Daggers¡¯ fortress. The other was the aerie. ¡°Lockdown,¡± Ziri snapped. ¡°No one comes in or out. This place is closed for the duration. Keep everyone who works here in the open, where we can see them.¡± ¡°What do I tell them if they ask why?¡± a Star Dragon asked, a hand on the hilt of his sword. ¡°They can take their questions to the Twins,¡± came Ziri¡¯s cold reply. The Star Dragons within earshot hurried to obey. Two of them were sorcerers, who openly wore blood vials at their throats. Fair warning they meant business. ¡°How will you suss out which beast master is the spy?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°Once the sorcerers take command, the truthsayers will begin the interrogations,¡± Ziri said. Confirmation that the Red Daggers planted an agent in the aerie suggested to Bessa another reason why Lady Nensela chose it for her staging ground: the gryphons might know the way to the headquarters. Various agents could have used the beasts as transport to ¡®work,¡¯ and lookouts at the Red Daggers fortress might assume anyone approaching on a gryphon was in their pay. By the time the chaos was sorted, the relevant parties would be dead. Soon enough, one of the sorcerers, Leo, returned with the informant, depositing him at Ziri¡¯s feet. The slackness of the informant¡¯s face signaled he was under a compulsion; the sorcerer was already removing the spent blood vial from the cord around his neck. He pulled out a full vial from his belt and slid it onto the cord, which he duly tied around his neck. The Red Daggers had been clever. The informant, a clerk, always reported directly to one person, and only that person, who used an obvious code name. The practice limited exposure of the Red Daggers as a whole. With a practiced eye, Bessa gave him the once-over. The clerk could not withstand strict scrutiny, she judged. He may have been a freedman or freeborn, but either way, slaves drove down any wages he would have made. And yet, he wore a sash of muslin. The fabric was a revelation to Bessa, and one she had fast come to appreciate¡ªEdana had given her a chiton to wear that very morning, promising it would help her cope with the heat. Yet in contrast with Bessa¡¯s white chiton, the clerk¡¯s sash was dyed yellow, which cemented her suspicions. It was unlikely he had lawfully obtained the means to buy anything imported from across the Gold Sea, let alone muslin, let alone muslin dyed with costly saffron. The cost would require a year of his official wages, which she doubted he¡¯d waste on a mere accessory. The Red Daggers should have chosen someone whose flaunting of unexplainable wealth would not have stood out so starkly. At Edana¡¯s shout, they rushed back into the office. When they arrived, Edana was kneeling in front of Lady Nensela. A wide-awake Lady Nensela squeezed her hands with the intensity of a drowning woman holding driftwood. ¡°Stay back,¡± Damya warned them. When Lady Nensela calmed, Edana let go of one hand to pick up a jug of wine she had stationed at her own feet for this purpose, the lesson she had learned from Cingetissa. She offered a cup to Lady Nensela, who heartily drank. Lady Nensela¡¯s usual alertness returned, and she fastened her gaze on Ziri. ¡°There¡¯s a complication,¡± she said. ¡°Listen to me. The Red Daggers have a captive, possibly a dryad. They keep her bound with ¡®unholy chains.¡¯ Do your sorcerers serve the Huntress?¡± One of the Star Dragons swore, and Bessa shivered. As a child she had fantasized about meeting dryads, but that was because of the children¡¯s stories Grandmother told her at night. As an adult, she had read the uncensored versions of those stories, and knew enough to have a healthy fear of dryads. What would an angry dryad do once freed? The Star Dragons all looked to Leo. ¡°Change of plans,¡± Ziri said. ¡°Damya will go with us, and Leo, your sole purpose will be to free the dryad once Damya finds her. No matter what happens in the battle, you are not to deviate from that mission, understand?¡± Lady Nensela held up a hand. ¡°If I may¡ªthe captive is terrified, and seems unable to read intentions. If she is a dryad, she may trust Leo by default. If she is not, then I had better go with you. I told her my friends were coming, so that should grant you some leeway once she is free.¡± Ziri started to protest, but Lady Nensela cut him off. ¡°I do not wish to remind you, again, of what I was doing when your grandfather¡¯s grandfather was in swaddling clothes. I will not get in the way, and if you are concerned, know that I have my own men who are trained for this. You need not spare your own. Let us go.¡± Ziri¡¯s jaw snapped shut. The beast master prime had their gryphons ready for them when they reached the deck below. ¡°One thing,¡± he said. ¡°Know this: these gryphons are not fit for battle, and are under a geas to never bite, claw, or harm anyone. Attempt to break that geas, and you kill them. Understand?¡± ¡°If we wished for battle mounts, we would not be here,¡± Lady Nensela assured him. ¡°And if I were you, I would go through my records and see which of my gryphons may have been used to facilitate crimes. Your clerk is in the pay of cutthroats. If this gets out, you may have to answer to the authorities. Consider what you must do to prove your innocence. Fly!¡± At her command, her gryphon took a running leap off the concrete promontory that jutted into the sky over the city. Bessa suppressed a smile at the look on the face of the beast master prime. She admired how adroitly Lady Nensela maneuvered him into investigating Red Dagger activity in his aerie. Sidling up to him she helpfully added, ¡°I would start with anyone whose lifestyle isn¡¯t supported by their pay. Like your clerk, and his muslin sash and fancy shoes.¡± The head beast master did a double take. He was better paid than the clerk, of course, and may have even owned the aerie. However, his garments told her he knew or cared little about clothes, aside from if they were itchy or protected him from the elements.His eyes darkened, and she saw the wheels turning. With a roguish smile she added, ¡°Perhaps you might pay the clerks more, to make them less susceptible to bribes?¡± ¡°I will be in my office if you need me,¡± he snapped. The other Star Dragons were taking off. Edana was one of the last in line. Bessa walked beside her, and Edana reached out to take her hand. A bag hung at Edana¡¯s side, and Bessa tried not to think about the contents as she concentrated on her best and oldest friend. ¡°May your Speaker guard and keep you, my heart-sister,¡± Bessa said. Edana squeezed her hand. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled. ¡°I love you, too.¡± Chapter 22: Nenselas Stratagem XXII Nensela''s Stratagem In which a trap is sprung Edana¡¯s gryphon made it to the front of the echelon. The Star Dragons flew in triangular formation, like a flock of birds. Ziri and the others broke off quickly, as their plan dictated. Only Lady Nensela remained with her, just long enough to shout one last piece of instruction. ¡°Make sure to mention the Speaker. Everything depends on it.¡± The Speaker? Edana started to ask a question, but Lady Nensela broke away, leaving Edana completely alone. What could Lady Nensela be up to? An answer came to her, and she smiled wolfishly. Never would she lightly invoke the Speaker, but the Red Daggers would not be ignorant of her faithfulness, she decided. Three hours past noon, or so the sun¡¯s position said. No time left to lose. Soon enough she glimpsed the mouth of the cave, which was partially hidden by a copse of trees. Over the mouth, in bright red paint, was an ominous symbol proclaiming a deadly hazard. When she neared the cave two scouts emerged from opposite directions, from trees several feet away from the entrance. Unarmed scouts, which sent alarm bells through her: sorcerers. Had to be. Clutching the amulet the beast master gave her, Edana commanded her mount to swoop. With an ear-splitting scream the beast obeyed her. By then she was ready. From her bag she tossed down the heads of the Red Daggers who had attacked her workshop. One by one they landed, followed by the feet. All landed directly in front of the guards. Her gryphon flew up and circled madly. ¡°Greetings,¡± she said. ¡°I am Edana Nuriel, and I come here at your request.¡± Even if the lowly gate-guards were unaware of the mission to capture her, they simply couldn¡¯t miss the significance of her style of saying hello. The guards¡¯ eyes were riveted on the unseeing ones in the heads of their dead fellows. Eventually, the men looked up and gaped at her in obvious wonder. Edana imagined what they were thinking: she was alone, she was unarmed, and yet their cutters had not gotten the better of her. ¡°Don¡¯t keep Gallo waiting,¡± Edana taunted, using the name Ziri had supplied to her. ¡°He went to so much trouble to invite me here. Would he be pleased, do you think, if he knew you delayed my response to his invitation?¡± ¡°Go on through,¡± came the stunned reply. Be ever strange and inscrutable, Lady Nensela once advised her. It will keep them guessing when they otherwise ought to kill you. Summoning every ounce of nerve she had, Edana leapt from the back of her gryphon, landing at a walk, as she had seen Lady Aelia do that night on the molten beach. Head held high, she adroitly stepped over the severed heads and feet she¡¯d dropped. The guards stopped beyond arm¡¯s length as she serenely approached them. One sounded a horn, and one bent to gather the pieces of their fallen. Glowlights brightened the interior, bathing the antechamber in a warm glow. Huh. Not at all foreboding or creepy, contrary to her expectations. The cavern almost looked cozy. Four more guards waited inside, at the top of the stairs leading down into the fortress. To her surprise, they recoiled when they saw her. ¡°Two of them,¡± one whispered. Two of what? At that moment, three men suddenly burst over the top of the stairs, running at so fast a clip that Edana stepped aside to keep them from barreling into her. The sight of her made one man cry out. Instinctively, she folded her arms, which put the Huntress blades sheathed in her dress within reach. Then, a thing happened which astonished her: they threw themselves at her feet. ¡°Spare us, please! Have mercy, we beg of you.¡± Edana arched an eyebrow. Lady Nensela promised she would ¡°make this interesting,¡± and Edana wondered more than ever what her immortal friend considered interesting. Whatever it was, she needed to do her part and make use of it. ¡°Why should I spare you?¡± The bandits babbled things of no use to her, and Edana finally gave up and waved them on. ¡°Get out.¡± From outside she heard a commotion, suggesting Ziri and the others were getting into position. Killing the Red Daggers was their part. But first, she must do her part. Deliberately, she paced her descent down the stairs. Timing mattered, but so did carrying out the role Lady Nensela planned for her. The guards had unwittingly confirmed her suspicions as to what Lady Nensela must be up to. Edana stepped firmly on her own fears. But what about the captive? Eitanim had a different view of dryads than Rasena Valentians. While Lady Nensela thought a huntsman was required to deal with them, Edana doubted this was the case. What disturbed her was that while she didn¡¯t view the dryads as demigods, the Rasena Valentians did. So, for them to capture one and bind her suggested the Red Daggers were committing a special kind of evil. If they did not respect or regard a being they considered sacred, she could not expect them to deal well with her. Courage, she told herself. Pandemonium greeted her when she reached the bottom step. Men raced to and fro, cursing and swearing as they filled sacks with various goods. One man stood in the midst of it all, demanding order. His low, deep voice echoed throughout the cavern, and the other men couldn¡¯t miss it. However, the men paid him no heed. ¡°You¡¯ve ruined us, Gallo! We¡¯re dead. You heard what she said, you heard¡ª¡± ¡°I will have your silence,¡± the man in the white robes thundered. ¡°Are you Red Daggers, or mewling whelps? Stop your crying, you sons of bitches, and listen to me.¡± His tone was as a whip; all of the men snapped to attention in response. Behind the crowd, Edana climbed three steps up to see over their heads. ¡°There is a way out. We already know how to deal with that creature. We have the means¡ª¡± A scarred man interrupted him. ¡°Can¡¯t you see that woman was a prophet?¡± Gallo turned to his right, and glared so fiercely Edana wondered that the scarred man didn¡¯t drop dead on the spot. ¡°And what of it? She will fall all the same. Listen.¡± ¡°They don¡¯t lie about the Destroyer! When they tell you the Destroyer is coming, they mean it. We¡¯re dead men,¡± the scarred man insisted. Edana cocked her head. Lady Nensela was too pious to treat a god she worshipped as her own personal assassin. Would she really have said this ¡®Destroyer¡¯ was coming for them? On the other hand, she might allow them to misconstrue her words that way. Rather than interrupt the hysterical men, Edana decided it might pay to find out how Gallo thought he could deal with a prophet and a dryad. ¡°Shut up. The next to whine gets my knife in the gut. Haven¡¯t you been paying attention? We don¡¯t have to fear the prophets anymore. There¡¯s a new order coming, and we¡¯re in on it. That bitch¡ª¡± The men gasped in horror. Gallo gave them a mocking smile. ¡°That bitch,¡± he continued without remorse, ¡°will not be a problem for us. Count on it. Now look here, and listen up good: there¡¯s no reason to fear the prophets because we¡¯re protected. Our new ally covers the ground we stand on. If you want, I can start making introductions right now. ¡± Murena? Was he going to summon Murena? Now was a good time to step in. ¡°Ahem.¡± Several men actually tensed in shock and fear, their postures betraying them though they faced away from her. Slowly, Gallo raised his head, and met her gaze with a wide-eyed stare of his own. When the other men turned to follow his gaze Edana spread her arms, as if welcoming them. ¡°You wished to meet me? Did I misunderstand your invitation?¡± To punctuate her greeting, she tossed out the last head and a pair of feet from the third bag she carried. The men stared in silence. One actually sank to the ground in despair. He buried his face in his hands. ¡°Where are my manners?¡± Edana asked, as if she were hosting them at a banquet. ¡°My name is Edana Nuriel. The Terebinthian who speaks of the Children? First you sought my company in Silura, but sadly we did not meet. But you persisted, and tried my hospitality today at my shop. Out of sheer courtesy, I thought I should call upon you this time. Here I am!¡± Shocked, the men kept looking from the head and feet to her, and back again. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. She had their complete attention. A tall, stocky man seemed particularly riveted on the head. ¡°Fabian,¡± he moaned. ¡°So that was his name,¡± Edana murmured. ¡°In all the excitement, he and your other friends failed to introduce themselves. If you please, you may collect the other heads from your gate where I left them. Their feet, too. Please, take note of the utmost respect I have for your customs.¡± Barely audible cussing and murmuring came softly to her ears, but inside Edana prayed her remark would teach the men manners: she would do unto them as they had done unto others. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Gallo asked warily. Getting into the persona she was affecting, Edana risked arching an eyebrow. ¡°Do tell. Did you not wish to meet me? Was it not you who gave orders to capture me in secrecy?¡± Gallo¡¯s eyes narrowed. She suspected the direction of his thoughts. Either she was a Star Dragon, or they would mistake her for something else, as they mistook Lady Nensela. Quickly, Edana set the topic of conversation. ¡°I couldn¡¯t help but overhear your attempt to maintain discipline among your men. Do I understand correctly, that they think you unable to save them from the trouble you brought on them? Let me assure them: you can¡¯t.¡± Gallo made a sound of disgust in his throat. To Edana¡¯s surprise, he looked relieved. However, the scarred man eyed her thoughtfully¡ªand not as his prey. Lady Nensela had done her part well. ¡°On my way down here, your men threw themselves at my feet and begged me to save them. ¡®Have mercy,¡¯ they cried. And now, your men speak of your ¡®Destroyer¡¯ coming, to destroy you as it were. I should be much entertained to see this.¡± ¡°Terebinthian,¡± the scarred man said. ¡°What of your god? Can He save us from the Destroyer? Will you bargain for us?¡± ¡°My, what nerve you have.¡± Still, she could at least pretend to consider the idea, so she tapped her lips and furrowed her brow. Hope gleamed in their eyes. Even Gallo swayed on his feet. Whatever Lady Nensela did to them had them spooked. The men pleaded earnestly, reminding her they hadn¡¯t personally harmed her, and the ones who tried already paid the price. Edana pressed her lips together as she considered how to proceed. When would she get the signal? ¡°Why should I save you? To a man you are thieves, despoilers, and murderers. Dare I imagine your plans for me? Yet you think I should help you?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t need her,¡± Gallo said. ¡°We have our own allies.¡± ¡°Murena?¡± she asked, allowing amusement to tinge her voice. Gallo paled. One man, long haired, shot Gallo a meaningful look. ¡°It¡¯s over,¡± the man said quietly, in a thick Valentian accent. ¡°Gallo. She knows about Murena and she came here anyway. If she¡¯s not afraid of Murena, then what are we supposed to do with her?¡± The men exchanged glances. The ones not already on their knees knelt as one, except Gallo, who sputtered with rage. The long-haired man talked. Edana listened. The Red Daggers did take their marching orders from Murena, who could and did manifest himself in Gallo¡¯s office. More cussing from the men, this time loud, and with feeling. Others, such as the scarred man, nodded calmly, as if she had confirmed a long-held suspicion. The long haired man¡ªClaudius, he called himself¡ªavoided their gazes, focusing solely on Edana as he spoke. What he said next made the hair stand up on the back of her neck. ¡°Murena ordered us to capture you.¡± ¡°Why?¡± she demanded. ¡°One does not question him. One simply obeys.¡± A slight tremor below her feet provided the signal she was looking for. She wore a second amulet, hidden beneath her bodice. Ziri had assured her it would prevent her from being affected by what would happen next. ¡°And this Murena chose you out of the blue, because you are pliant and biddable?¡± In any other instance, they would have cut her down for her impudence. However, Edana knew her daring would only add to their terror. They did not know her to be a sorceress or a priestess, which meant she should only have been prey. And yet, she did not act like prey ought to; she did not cower, and she was not the one begging for mercy. Claudius responded by shifting his gaze to Gallo, silently assigning all responsibility to him. Edana laughed. The tremors grew stronger. Thanks to the amulet she kept her balance while the men rocked. ¡°Gallo?¡± she used her sweetest voice. ¡°You let them think this was the sum total of the deal you made?¡± There. Seed planted. Lady Nensela said they were on the edge of turning on Gallo; all it would take is one little push¡­ ¡°What is she talking about?¡± Claudius demanded. Gallo rolled his eyes. ¡°Nothing, Claudius, she knows nothing. All she¡¯s doing is playing you for a fool, can¡¯t you see it? She¡¯s a Star Dragon, you idiot. Do not be impressed with what she pretends to know.¡± The stout man cradling Fabian¡¯s head stood up and gave Gallo a cold stare. ¡°Stop lying,¡± he snapped. ¡°The whole damn point of sending Fabian after her was that she¡¯s not a Star Dragon. We couldn¡¯t track her the way we track them. Or are you playing dumb?¡± Caught by his own bluster, Gallo froze. Edana kept her expression neutral as she watched him. His men thought she was going to save them, and Gallo could not gainsay her by dismissing her as a simple arcana, not without revealing more than he wanted them to know. ¡°Oh right,¡± Edana agreed, directing herself to Claudius. ¡°Will you stake your life and your soul on this rooster? Or will you deal honestly with me, for your own sake, if not for that of these men?¡± Gallo tried another tack. ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid of a mere arcana¡ª¡± The stout man roared. ¡°If she¡¯s a little nobody then why is Fabian dead, you son of a bitch?¡± The crowd radiated bloodlust. Whatever control Edana might have over the situation, she better exercise it now. ¡°Gallo,¡± she said, adopting the tone her mother had used when she was on thin ice. ¡°Will you save us or won¡¯t you?¡± the scarred man demanded. Gallo¡¯s facial expression looked familiar. Duke Gagnon had worn it, too, right before he fled to summon the giants: cornered. ¡°Will you let your men be lost, Gallo?¡± The tremors became shakes. The men grew restless as they looked to Gallo to give her an answer¡ªan answer, she knew, that must be to their satisfaction. Gallo knew this, too. His leadership, his control of his men, depended on it. Or he might summon Murena¡­ ¡°There is to be no bargain,¡± Gallo drawled. ¡°Or so the prophet claimed.¡± ¡°I look like a prophet to you?¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t one of her prophets, either,¡± the scarred man pointed out, a reminder of his hope that her different religion would give them refuge from the consequences of violating their own. ¡°Then there is your answer,¡± Gallo said, a light coming into his eyes. A light that would have sent her fleeing, but for the fact that the Star Dragons were near. ¡°If her god will not allow her to come to harm, then her god must protect us. Tie her up,¡± Gallo ordered. He smiled cynically at her. The men hesitated. Edana let out a subtle exhale. The men could not, would not bring themselves to rough her up; the stakes were too high. If by some miracle she lived as many lifetimes as Lady Nensela, this moment was the only one where she would ever be as safe amongst such men. ¡°Don¡¯t touch me,¡± she snapped, putting as much steel in her voice as she could manage. No one moved. Gallo pressed his lips into a thin line. ¡°If I have it right,¡± she said, addressing Claudius, ¡°the rest of these men made no deals with Murena. Any arrangement was between Gallo and Murena, and perhaps also yourself as well. Is that so?¡± Claudius nodded warily. ¡°I only served as witness,¡± he insisted, and she knew that he understood her point. ¡°So then, for what purpose does Gallo ask these men to trust Murena as an ally? There was no deal with them. Why should they believe Gallo is securing safe passage for anyone other than himself? Doesn¡¯t he mean to use them as a shield, to keep himself safe until he can make his own escape?¡± The intake of breath told her she had struck home. Gallo sputtered, and immediately began babbling assurances they clearly did not regard. The ground shook. The men cried out, and one of them screamed that the Destroyer was opening the Abyssal Gate for them. ¡°Run,¡± Edana cried. ¡°Leave Gallo to his fate. Let him pay the price. Flee now!¡± Part of her was almost sorry for their imminent demise. But her memory of what they had done to Amelu killed any desire to show mercy. Even for cutthroats, the Red Daggers were vicious and degenerate. They deserved what the Star Dragons had reserved for them. More, there was the matter of their mysterious hostage. The hostage that by their own rules they knew was wrong to take, and as it was a being that required ¡®unholy chains,¡¯ then some punishment was their due. None of his men remained, and Gallo made not even a feeble attempt to stop them. Instead he unsheathed his short sword. ¡°Leave me to my fate? And what fate would that be?¡± Running up the stairs wasn¡¯t an option, it would simply trap her between the men and Gallo. Hiding wasn¡¯t an option, either, for Gallo knew the place better than she would. The ground went on shaking. Cracks snaked through the walls. Gallo did not seem to care. ¡°If you cannot deliver the services of your men, what do you have to offer Murena?¡± she asked. ¡°You.¡± Right. Murena ordered her capture, for reasons she didn¡¯t understand. Edana allowed herself to sit, but Gallo was forced by the tremors to fall to his knees. They faced each other. How much time did they have left? How long would it take for Lady Nensela, Damya, and Leo to find the captive? And what would the captive do once they freed her? ¡°Will that be enough, Gallo? Once you deliver me, you will cease to be of use. With no men, you are spent, you are done. Another will have to serve in your place.¡± ¡°When my men see that no harm will come to them, or to me, they will come groveling back. I have no worry¡ª¡± ¡°And no authority, either,¡± she reminded him. ¡°Even your trusted second seemed eager to throw you over when his skin was on the line. If your men were to survive¡ªand I assure you, they won¡¯t¡ªthen there is no reason for them to not rally around the strongest of their number. Why do they need you? You¡¯ve brought them disaster. And without them, you are no good to Murena.¡± Gallo¡¯s laughter did not touch his eyes. ¡°That may be how it works with the Star Dragons¡ª¡± ¡°Which I am not,¡± she interrupted. Gallo sighed, irritated. ¡°Then it is no wonder that you evaded our detection. You will explain it all to Murena. Now.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be foolish. You know you will live only so long as you have what Murena wants.¡± Gallo made no move towards her, and she supposed that at long last he was considering her words. There was bravado, and there was survival. He was a man at war with himself. In his place she would calculate that keeping her as a hostage in some secret location was his best option. He would imagine rallying his men somehow¡ªbest to let him think they still lived¡ªand with her hidden away, he would have the balance weighted in his favor. Could he lie to Murena? Would he imagine himself capable of deceiving a Sleepless Enemy? By her calculation, his options were limited. If he were going to hide her away to bide his time, he¡¯d likely put her in the same place he¡¯d hidden the captive. The place might yield a treasure trove of intelligence, in addition to shortening their search. What would Gallo say if she demanded he take her to the captive? How might she make him see sense, if he didn¡¯t see it already? ¡°I will have no more words from you,¡± Gallo said. His next action mystified her. Instead of menacing her with his sword, he sheathed it again. For a moment she wondered if he might offer surrender. He reached into his tunic. A gold light flashed, and Edana knew before she saw it what Gallo was holding: a blood vial. When he opened his hand her pulse quickened. Could she get to him before¡ª? Gallo¡¯s sing-song voice heralded the spell he uttered even as she reached for her knives. Too late. Much too late. Chapter 23: The Captive XXIII The Captive In which they discover how the captive is bound ¡°It¡¯s this way,¡± Damya said, putting away her globe. Time now for her scryer¡¯s senses, she said. She led them to another entrance, one in a small clearing on the other side of Mount Adamant. On this part of the mountain, the terrain obliged visitors to arrive via gryphons or dragons. Sharp crags made foot traffic a nightmare, and horses were not to be thought of. For this reason, Nensela insisted on checking for an aerie before landing. Fortunately, the Red Daggers did not keep one. At least, not on this side of the mountain. Nensela shrugged off her cloak, revealing her quiver and bow case. Fashioned of black leather, the case¡¯s fa?ade was covered in a matching luxurious material. Velvet, her mortal husband told her. Beautiful silk embroidery on the velvet face depicted a jade dragon and red-violet phoenix. Lustrous hepatizon formed the trim, and Nensela always assumed the metal was chosen to match the phoenix. The case was her husband¡¯s gift to her, to entice her to take their voyage to the Gold Sea. A phoenix for my phoenix, he laughed, for her immortality always delighted him. You can get more like this if we go, he¡¯d said. It is well made, see? This case will probably still be good even after I¡¯m dead. Just think of me whenever you use it. Promise? Nensela slipped on her thumb ring, then readied her bow. Senet had given her this one, a composite of ivory and palm wood. The bracer she wore was a newer commission, cleverly concealed by her shawl and a chain of ancient gold coins she¡¯d wrapped around her forearm like a bangle. If the prime beast master had spotted her battle gear he would have refused to rent her the gryphons, no matter the price. The coins were her keepsakes, mementos of the lost nations that minted them. From Amathus to Muziris to Zanbil¡ª Now she removed the chain from her wrist and transferred it to her waist, like a belt. She took aim, her keen eyes marking her prey before the others saw them. Twice she loosed an arrow, followed a heartbeat later by two shouts and two thuds near the mouth of the cave. Leo whistled. ¡°Is it true that archers from your land can hit the eyes of your enemies at a distance?¡± He eyed her barbed, poison-tipped arrows with wary respect. Nensela smiled. ¡°We earned the ¡®pupil smiters,¡¯ it is not a showman¡¯s pitch.¡± At the cave¡¯s entrance they passed over the corpses without comment. Once inside they came to the pens and stables. Leo¡¯s magic calmed the animals, and Nensela¡¯s arrows felled the beast masters. Next they came to the headquarters, and what would likely be Gallo¡¯s personal quarters. Nensela lingered between the two buildings. If she were Gallo, she would keep the captive close enough to monitor. Cautiously, she Called out. ?I¡¯ve returned. I bring friends. Are you well? Can you help us find you?? No response. ¡°Do you sense anything?¡± Nensela asked, refusing to panic. Unholy chains signaled a high-value target, in Nensela¡¯s calculation. So valuable that the Red Daggers would not kill her simply out of panic. Could the hostage perish on her own? Though immortal, dryads could ¡°go to their mother¡¯s side,¡± as one told her once. On the other hand, Nensela was uncertain the hostage was a dryad. Something about her felt wrong, even allowing for the condition she must be in. Damya halted in her tracks. She grabbed Nensela¡¯s arm, and gripped it so hard that Nensela almost cried out. Leo watched calmly. Clenching her teeth, Nensela kept silent and counted the beats of her own heart. As she counted, she noted a ring Damya wore. White jadestone, set in orichalcum. The rose-gold metal stood for Aletheia¡¯s flames¡ªDamya had some gift for truthsay. Blessedly for Damya, Nensela¡¯s patience lasted until the count of one hundred and two, when the scryer finally came to her senses and let Nensela go. ¡°Your friend has been taken,¡± Damya whispered. ¡°Gallo carries her further below ground. And the hostage¡ªthe first hostage, is there, too. Let¡¯s hurry.¡± As it turned out she need not have said that last, for Nensela and Leo were already heading for the open courtyard. Damya hastened to overtake them. Once in the lead she took them past the armory to a door built into the cavern wall. A locked door. Yielding to Leo¡¯s venatori powers, the door fell off its hinges. Just in time Leo caught the door, and Nensela and Damya assisted him in quietly lowering it to the floor. No lights lit their way here, so Leo took the lead. After all, Nensela could not shoot what she could not see, and Damya was not a field arcana. Only Leo¡¯s powers could protect them now. Earlier Nensela saw him praying to the Huntress, and she hoped the goddess walked with him. For a long while they crept through the dark, until at last light bloomed ahead. Gradually, as their eyes adjusted, they realized the light spilled from a door opened ajar. ¡°Here,¡± Damya whispered. Nensela readied an arrow. Did she not promise Gallo he may die on his feet? Time to make it so. ¡°A moment,¡± Leo murmured. He held out his left hand, and a moment later a gust of wind rushed from him, and shoved the door open so hard it banged against the wall. Through the open door they caught sight of a startled-looking Gallo. As though she were a saddlebag, he carried Edana slung over his back¡­in front of an open portal. Copper clouds irised in a stone archway. From inside the portal blew a wind so strong it ruffled their clothes and lifted their hair. Unfortunately, she couldn¡¯t make eye contact with Edana, as the young woman¡¯s face was pressed against Gallo¡¯s back. Before she could speak, a familiar sensation came over Nensela. Almost of its own accord her mouth opened, and the words she spoke were not her own. In the Adamantean¡¯s tongue she said, ¡°You take your death with you, Gallo.¡± In obvious surprise Gallo staggered back. He did not step, but fell into the swirl of copper clouds, taking Edana with him. In her mind¡¯s eye a road appeared before Nensela, and she stood motionless, seeing what she had to do. Be still. Leo charged forward, but she made no attempt to stop him. The portal closed faster than he could run, in only three beats of her heart. Leo swore, loudly and with feeling. ¡°Do not fear what must happen,¡± she said, again in a voice not her own. Leo stared aghast at her, but Damya nodded her acceptance. Seeing the scryer¡¯s reaction appeared to check Leo¡¯s, for his shoulders sagged in resignation. ¡°Look,¡± Damya said, pointing. Her outstretched finger drew their gazes to the stone tub in the center of the room. Something about the tub made the hair rise on Nensela¡¯s neck. Cautiously she approached it, Leo keeping step with her. However; Damya reached it first, and Nensela halted, awaiting her reaction. Damya¡¯s brow furrowed. Then she clamped a hand over her mouth, and her eyes widened. Leo joined her and looked down. He stumbled backwards, mouth agape. Steeling herself, Nensela joined them. The tub was filled with a strange liquid. Violet, ethereal water that glowed softly, and occasionally sparked lightning. Below all of that, a hazy shape with human contours. The hostage. Something about the water piqued at her memory. What was it about the color? The color meant something. Damya cried out. ¡°By the gods! Oh curse them, curse them all, may the Serpent take their souls!¡± The scryer threw herself into Leo¡¯s arms, and he looked over her head at Nensela. ¡°This tub is a tomb. Not for the hostage. For the asrai.¡± A jolt went through her body, and Nensela shuddered. ¡°To the Serpent with Gallo,¡± she cursed. At last she solved the mystery as to why Gallo was so off balance, so clearly out of sorts. The desecration he¡¯d committed obliged him to suffer divine punishment. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Terror and reverence made Nensela avert her eyes from the water. Through all the centuries of her life, she never once came across the remains of an asrai before. Now she recalled what stirred her memory: accounts of certain sorcerer-kings in the days before the Scouring. Sorcerers so wicked, so decadent, they captured asrai for the sole purpose of bathing in the water they dissolved into when in captivity. ¡°How many?¡± she asked, finding her voice. ¡°To fill this? At least a dozen asrai,¡± Leo estimated. ¡°According to my lore scrolls.¡± ¡°How do we free the hostage?¡± Nensela asked. Reaching into the tub to unstopper it was not an option; touching the waters seemed disrespectful. There was also the possibility asrai waters were as perilous as their tears. The wicked sorcerer kings used unholy methods to survive their baths, or so the stories claimed. Was the hostage a naiad? Such cruel efficiency, seizing a naiad and her asrai attendants, and using those attendants to bind her. Leo began pacing frantically, unable to hide his alarm. ¡°We need a priest. A Restorite priest. They would know the rites. By the Huntress! I hope Ziri feeds those Red bastards alive to the gryphons, and the rats, too!¡± An apt sentiment, Nensela judged. Now to find¡ªthere. The mirror in the corner would serve her purposes nicely. Striding over to it she Called out. ¡°Nensela Sideris, prophet of the Seeker, requests aid from a servant of the Restorer. An evil has been done. Answer, please.¡± Several Restorites responded within a beat of her heart. Attentive, their expressions changed from polite interest to a mixture of rage and horror as Nensela tersely explained the situation. Immediately, a priestess volunteered to bring a cadre of priests to perform the cleansing rites. Thank the Restorer she was in Kyanopolis, as opposed to the others who were speaking from other nations of the empire. With her scrying crystal Damya made arrangements with another battle scryer the Star Dragons left stationed at the public aerie. ¡°Send an escort for the Restorites. Bring them here with all speed,¡± she ordered. Meanwhile, Leo made tentative overtures to the hostage, first vocally and then spiritually. No response. When Nensela Called, the hostage sounded weak, feeble. The priestess left them, but Nensela maintained her connection with the other priests, to ask one important question. ¡°What boon might the outlaws have hoped to gain from this abominable act?¡± The priests hurriedly conferred with each other through her link. At last one broke off; however, and beckoned for Damya to come forward. ¡°One of your order might do this,¡± he said carefully. ¡°Light, water, reflections¡ªfrom what I understand, these reveal nearly all that a scryer seeks to know. But not everything, correct? By the rules of the Ever Bright some things remain hidden¡­and for those things, legend has it you must use the waters of an asrai. Nothing at all can be hidden from a scryer who uses an asrai¡¯s water.¡± ¡°Some claim that,¡± Damya conceded, her eyes cast down. ¡°And the hostage?¡± Nensela pursued. ¡°What manner of being can survive immersion in the waters of an asrai? Or would require such a binding?¡± This prompted another lively conference amongst the Restorites. In the end, they unanimously concluded the children of the gods made the most sense for candidates: naiads were the top choice, followed by dryads, followed by sea dragons. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, and released them at last. Nensela¡¯s thoughts raced. Something was not adding up here. Outlaw sorcerers wanting forbidden power made sense. Using the asrai was a giant step into depravity¡­but not inconceivable. Not if there was something they wanted to know so badly, it was worth risking damnation. By the Ever Bright¡¯s rules, some things remain hidden. Impossible to scry. Such as? The conclave. The night last spring when she and Senet met with the other prophets in the Library of Kyanopolis. When the bandits attacked, the first thing the prophets wondered was how the bandits knew to attack them, then and there. On a night when the moon was dead, the conclave should have been hidden from scryers. Now she knew. Asrai waters must allow for scrying at forbidden times. One advantage Gallo and Duke Gagnon would have sought. But that surely wasn¡¯t all¡­ The Star Dragons. At Fanuco¡¯s Ziri thought shadow agents were a natural solution to the mystery of how the Red Daggers were able to find the Star Dragons. Never before had she asked how the Star Dragons made themselves unique among people in being hidden from scryers. But hidden they were. Except from asrai¡­ Edana. Beyond all doubt the Red Daggers had searched diligently for Edana. Yet she evaded them. How? Why did they have to use ¡®mundane¡¯ methods to find her, if no one or nothing could stay hidden if scryed in the water of asrai? And how was the hostage connected? Clearly, the asrai were only a small part of the thread on the loom. Nensela tried again to Call the hostage. The hostage must be the key. Something about the hostage would account for everything about this situation. She glanced again at Damya, whose face glistened with tears. ¡°What distinguishes you and the other Star Dragons? In what fashion would a naiad, dryad, or sea dragon aid a search for you? Come child, dry your tears. Let us reason this problem together.¡± But Damya and Leo both shrugged helplessly. ¡°None of this makes sense,¡± Damya wailed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I can¡¯t think of any reason for what these monsters have done to their victim.¡± ¡°Forget about what doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± Nensela suggested. ¡°What marks you as a Star Dragon? What binds you to your confederates, but excludes those who are not one of you? Start with Edana, whom the Red Daggers could not find even as they found your people.¡± Where, she wondered, would Gallo take Edana? Where might he think himself safe from Nensela¡¯s wrath? Murena? Quite the gambit. Would Gallo, in his panic and fear, attempt to seek refuge with Murena? Leo suggested, ¡°All I know is our oath. Could that be it? That the Red Daggers use the asrai to find out who took the oath? Edana hasn¡¯t taken it. If they concentrated only on the oathtakers, then that would include us and exclude Edana.¡± An oath? Excellent starting point, but the captive was still unaccounted for in this scenario. ¡°What is the nature of this oath? A spell? Is a naiad or a dryad needed to amplify the powers of the asrai waters?¡± ¡°The oath is a spell,¡± Leo confirmed. ¡°But the naiads are daughters of the Restorer. I am a huntsman, my lady, and I know little about naiads save that their springs can heal you.¡± ¡°Young man, I seek your counsel on that which is not obvious.¡± Leo hastened to add, ¡°The summer solstice nears. Maybe they need a naiad to fuel the darker magics¡ªyou did say abyssal were involved in this, didn¡¯t you? Only instead of healing, maybe the Red Daggers wish to create a plague?¡± Nensela cocked an eyebrow. An intriguing idea. Still, Edana was not yet accounted for in this scheme. Would she see the young woman again? Alive? Only the Seeker knew¡­and Nensela must trust Her. Bile rushed up inside her, and Nensela swallowed hard. Countless times the Seeker defied her understanding. When doing Her will, Nensela did not always understand the why of it. Overthrow this king, or raise up this one. Help a wicked scoundrel to redeem himself, while telling a doer of virtuous deeds to get his affairs in order. Time, and experience, gave her perspective. The passing of years brought her insight into past events she¡¯d lived through. With this insight, she gained faith in her Seeker. A faith which carried her through events the meaning or purpose of which remained mysterious even now. Thus, she did not rebel. Never, until the Seeker demanded she take The Voyage. The voyage¡ªas the Seeker showed her¡ªthat would cost Nensela her family. For six years Nensela sought an answer. Why did she have to take that trip? Why did she have to lose her family? Did her daughter survive somehow? And You gave me no answer, though I begged You for one, Nensela seethed. Until the giants. An answer that lacerated her heart all over again. But now her own words in Fanuco¡¯s came back to her, and she clutched her cheek as if someone had slapped her. Blind. This whole time, she had been blind. Her jaw locked. This was not a time to allow her emotions to wash over her. After a long while, she held out her hand. Steady. Later she must reckon with herself. For now, she had to do what she could to save the captive, who would help her to save Edana. Damya¡¯s crystal flared. The Restorites had arrived. While Nensela and Damya remained with the captive, Leo hurried out to guide the newcomers. An eternity went by before the priestess and her band swept into the room. Indigo and silver robes marked them as high priests of the Restorer, and their scowls marked them as furious. Righteous fury made good fuel, Nensela thought. As high priests they were powerful, and the approach of the resurrection solstice amplified their powers. The priests circled the tub, eying it with both distaste and speculation. Nensela brought up Leo¡¯s idea, of using naiads to bolster darker magics. ¡°Is it possible to assay what more may have been done to these waters?¡± The high priestess, Tala, nodded. ¡°There is no question something was done to corrupt these waters. Certainly a spell or a potion prevents the waters from dissolving. Before we can work, I must remove the impurity.¡± ¡°Is it the captive? How are we to remove her?¡± The priests conferred amongst themselves for a short while. They apparently had a different plan in mind before arriving, and Tala¡¯s diagnosis obliged them to change their plans. Finally, they took something from the bags they carried. One at a time they placed sacred plants, flowers, and oils into the water, and over each one they said a word, different each time. Next, in unison they poured small jugs of water¡ªlikely from a naiad spring¡ªinto the tub. The priests raised their arms over their heads, and clasped hands with one another. In a loud voice they chanted, in a liturgical language unknowable to those not initiated into the mysteries of the Restorer. The priests fell silent, but they remained still. Damya and Leo seemed to be holding their breaths. Suddenly, a whirlwind arose from the tub, and exploded into a blinding indigo light. From out of this maelstrom a strange, otherworldly voice spoke a language Nensela had never heard before. As her sight returned she dimly perceived the priests swaying on their feet. Gradually clarity came, revealing the dazed, vacant looks on everyone¡¯s faces. The otherworldly voice had vanished. Moments went by before she realized she had lost her hearing, and Tala¡¯s words seemed to come from far away. ¡°¡­it is done,¡± Tala repeated. She held a hand out to Nensela, and when Nensela came to her Tala seized her tightly, putting all her weight onto Nensela¡¯s arm. In turn Nensela steadied her, letting the priestess lean against her. Curious, Nensela gazed into the pool. The water was gone, not a trace of it remained. Before their eyes lay a lithe, naked young woman whose lashes fluttered as she struggled to open her eyes. Chapter 24: Rescue XXIV Rescue In which they learn terrifying answers One of the priests unfastened his cloak, and Lady Nensela used it to cover the captive. Another priest brought a flask of the naiad¡¯s spring water to the woman¡¯s lips, gently tilting it into her mouth. She coughed violently, and turned her head. ¡°Stand back,¡± Tala said softly. The others did as she asked. Lady Nensela remained in place, keeping her eyes on the captive. Bewitching, she judged. Skin a rich coppery red, and night-dark hair shimmering with blue highlights suggested a dryad lay before her. However¡ªdryads changed their appearance with the seasons. Their hair always matched the color of a fruit appropriate to the season, and exuded the scent of that fruit. While the captive¡¯s hair color hinted of bilberries or elderberries, she bore no such scents, and it was the wrong season for both. Naiad, perhaps? From a foreign, unknown land? After a moment, the woman¡¯s coughs subsided, and her eyelids fluttered open. Eyes of molten gold stared up at them, wide and unseeing. Suddenly, the woman gave a start. ¡°Be at ease,¡± Lady Nensela said gently. ¡°I am Nensela, the one with whom you spoke earlier. I have brought you friends.¡± The woman¡¯s lips parted, but only a harsh sound escaped. She cleared her throat, and managed at last to utter one word. ¡°How?¡± Lady Nensela gestured to Tala. ¡°Tala is a high priestess of the Restorer. The Restorites cleansed this tub of the asrai used to hold you here.¡± In the silence they heard her deep inhale and exhale. With trembling hands she reached up and gripped the edge of the tub. Slowly, she pulled herself upright, and looked around. The first thing she noticed was Leo and the male priests, standing with their backs turned. For a heartbeat or two she blinked in obvious confusion. After a minute she glanced down and saw the cloak Lady Nensela had covered her with, now pooled around her hips. She clutched it fiercely, as though it were a lifeline. Lady Nensela held out her hand. The woman hesitated. Lady Nensela made encouraging sounds, and her voice did not falter even when she received the shock of the captive¡¯s icy cold palm against her own. Though the woman struggled mightily to rise, Lady Nensela did the heavy lifting in helping her gain her feet. Again the woman inhaled deeply, as if the effort to stand had sapped her strength. Tala presented her with a silver flask engraved with a phoenix image. The woman again hesitated. ¡°Healing waters, from the spring of Her Grace, Kyane, in the Restorer¡¯s Fane,¡± Tala assured her. Only then did the woman drink. Or gulped it, more like, but even before she finished the flask her trembling ceased. Sharp, gleaming eyes narrowed as she stared straight at Lady Nensela. ¡°Where are they?¡± No doubt she meant her captors. ¡°By now your abductors are in the care of the Destroyer,¡± Lady Nensela replied. ¡°Save for their leader, who has taken one of my own friends.¡± Rage smoldered in the woman¡¯s eyes. But she calmly asked, ¡°I heard your voice in my mind. Why? Are you ¡­ you are not one of my people?¡± Ah. Finally. ¡°If you mean, I am a seer, then the answer is yes, I am one of your people. If you mean, I am from Ta-Seti, then no, you are not one of my people, and I am not one of yours. But neither is what you mean, I believe.¡± The woman¡¯s eyes darted about the room. ¡°Are you certain they are dead? My ... captors?¡± ¡°I am certain my companions are working diligently to make them so.¡± The woman wrapped the cloak more tightly around herself. ¡°Why did they capture you?¡± Lady Nensela asked. For a long, long while the former captive fussed with the cloak draped around her. ¡°Please take me home,¡± she whispered. Lady Nensela¡¯s heart began to pound. ¡°From whence do you hail? This place where we are now is known as Kyanopolis.¡± The woman frowned, and her face settled into an expression of extreme confusion. Why? Was her home so far away she had never heard of Kyanopolis? Or was it rather that she was trying to comprehend the incredible distance she may have traveled? The woman sank back into the tub, and let out a low moan. ¡°I think I have failed.¡± Her voice was thick with agony. Lady Nensela and Tala exchanged a glance. This caught the woman¡¯s attention; she suddenly turned to Tala as if seeing her for the first time. ¡°What other temples are here?¡± she demanded. ¡°My temple will aid you,¡± Tala assured her. ¡°Temples to all of the gods are here¡ª¡± ¡°The Sea Lord?¡± ¡°¡­ Yes ¡­¡± Tala answered. The woman rose again, and attempted to negotiate the walls of the tub. Again Lady Nensela offered her aid, and this time the woman accepted without hesitation. She held fast to Lady Nensela¡¯s arm even after she was free of the tub. ¡°Take me at once to the Sea Lord¡¯s temple!¡± ¡°How might the Marinites aid you?¡± Lady Nensela asked. ¡°No one can help me; only my father can. Please, I seek those who serve my father.¡± Lady Nensela¡¯s heart beat a shade faster. Could it be ¡­ ? ¡°Your father is a high priest of the Sea Lord?¡± The former captive stumbled, and tightened her grip with such preternatural strength Lady Nensela feared her arm would break. ¡°No,¡± said the woman. ¡°My father is the Sea Lord.¡±
The woman refused to elaborate. However, because she ¡®knew¡¯ Lady Nensela, she insisted Lady Nensela accompany her to the temple. Lady Nensela agreed, but carefully hid her confusion and misgivings. By now Ziri and the others swooped in, having killed all but the few mercenaries the scryers said would be important. When Lady Nensela and her group swept into the courtyard, Ziri already had one captive bound at his feet. Walking was too much for the woman, who had still to give her name, so Leo carried her. The minute she saw Ziri¡¯s captive she bared her teeth and made a threatening sound in her throat. Everyone froze in place, and the hair stood up on Lady Nensela¡¯s neck. Never had she encountered a person whose voice could lock her bones and jangle her nerves. The roar of a tiger, yes ¡­ and of dragons. The prisoner gaped at the woman, then he shocked them by bursting into tears. The others watched silently, uncertain for several moments as the man dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands. Ziri raised his eyebrows at Lady Nensela. In her most soothing tones she explained the situation. This while she placed a restraining arm on the former captive, quelling her fruitless attempt to wrest free of Leo. ¡°He deserves to die!¡± the woman raged. ¡°Undoubtedly,¡± Ziri agreed. ¡°But I must ask that you keep your rage in check until we get answers.¡± He bowed, a wise move if the woman¡¯s claim to be a demigoddess was true. The woman subsided, but her glares made it clear she would not be held at bay for long. Lady Nensela strode over to the crying man. The pace of her steps made him look up, for her stride was purposeful, and his survival instincts demanded he learn her purpose regarding him. Of a certainty she knew this; centuries of human interaction told her as much. Deliberately she said nothing. Let him think, let him imagine. Coldly, implacably she raised her head and stared down her nose at him. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. He bowed low, his forehead nearly touching the ground. ¡°So you are real,¡± he said in despair before glancing up again. Lady Nensela gestured for Damya to join them. The flash of glowlights on her gleaming orichalcum ring drew the man¡¯s eyes. Naturally, he would notice the white jadestone, too. ¡°Ask your questions,¡± he said, resigned now. Lady Nensela asked, and he answered. The room was tomb-quiet as they spoke. Last summer, Gallo confided to the man¡ªClaudius, he called himself¡ªa great secret: a new order was coming, and they had a part to play to make it so. The part in question was to hunt and kill anyone asking about the giants. No one was supposed to learn any answers and live. ¡°Speak to us of the giants,¡± Lady Nensela commanded. ¡°My lady, I didn¡¯t ask about them. To ask is to die, and the money was enough.¡± For a long moment she eyed him. Incurious people were so odd. But he wasn¡¯t lying; Damya¡¯s nod confirmed as much. He continued, ¡°We put out that the giants were just rogue sorcerers in disguise, and we killed any witness or government official who claimed differently. But then a new set of people showed up asking questions. Shook us up, and we figured out they had to be an order of arcani. ¡°Somehow, our scryers couldn¡¯t See them. No matter what we did, they just slipped through our fingers. And then¡± ¡ª he faltered when he glanced at his former prisoner¡ª ¡°Gallo said there was a way. A way we can stop the spies. We couldn¡¯t even figure out who they were at first, but since we were going to fail if we didn¡¯t stop them, I went along with it. I¡¯m sorry¡ª¡± ¡°Spare us,¡± Lady Nensela cut in. A tear ran down his cheek. After a moment he continued. Gallo, he said, sent two teams of men to the Cauldron. Once arriving there, they split up, for two different missions. One group was to capture the asrai. And the other group was to capture the dragon. Murmurs and chatter rose up behind her, but Lady Nensela did not dare to take her eyes off Claudius. Manacled though his hands were, the man might also be desperate enough to try and take her as a hostage. ¡°The dragon,¡± she said evenly. The Valentian pointed, and she knew he was indicating the woman in Leo''s arms. Damya murmured imprecations in Adamantean. ¡°I didn¡¯t believe it, either,¡± Claudius confessed. ¡°But she¡¯s not a true dragon. Her papa¡¯s a sea dragon, but we¡¯re sure her mama¡¯s a dryad.¡± Goosebumps broke out on Lady Nensela¡¯s arms. In ancient legends, sea dragons would take human form and pair up with dryads. It was the basis of a famous festival drama. Legends usually had a root in reality, but she always thought the appeal of those stories lay in the mismatch. A sea dragon shared no common purpose with a dryad; how could a sea dragon safeguard the seas if he lived in the forest? And dryads were tied to their trees, were they not? This very factor made the stories more poignant, with the added excuse for allowing the actors to indulge in melodrama. Which made the stories easy to dismiss. But perhaps she ought to reconsider: what if the sea dragon and the dryads in these legends and plays did not have human motives? What if, instead of romance, they paired up to carry out orders from their divine parents? ¡°My mother is a dryad,¡± the woman said from behind her. ¡°And in times past my brothers did bond with dryads, when such was needed. But my Father is the Sea Lord.¡± Very well. But now was not the time to pursue questions on that score. Lady Nensela again focused on Claudius. ¡°How did you know to find her? And why did you need her?¡± A sound from Ziri distracted her. She risked a glance at him, and stopped short. Horror and dismay battled it out on the faces of all of the Star Dragons. When she turned back, tears were glistening once again in Damya¡¯s eyes. Ziri explained, ¡°The ¡®dragon¡¯ part of our name is not borrowed glory. Part of our oath includes taking the blood of a dragon into ourselves. Our legend has it that after the Third Cataclysm our founder made a deal with a dragon. It wasn¡¯t a sea dragon¡ª¡± ¡°Was it a sapient fire dragon?¡± Lady Nensela interrupted, awestruck. ¡°The answer will impress you I promise, but where I was going with this is that the oath we take binds us to the vows our founder made with that dragon. In return, we¡¯re granted certain protections and abilities. I will say no more in front of him.¡± He jerked a thumb at Claudius. Claudius said, ¡°Sea dragons are hidden from scryers. But with her blood combined with the asrai water we¡¯ve been able to find the Star Dragons.¡± Staring straight at the woman he added, ¡°I am truly sorry.¡± Lady Nensela waited, but the strange woman remained silent. ¡°By what means did you find her?¡± ¡°At first Gallo didn¡¯t say. Later I found out about Murena. He told us where to find her. Up to that point I thought we were looking for some kind of sorceress. But after I found out about Murena, Gallo told me more.¡± And Murena¡¯s role? Claudius insisted he met Murena only once, and it took him several attempts to get the words out when he recounted the experience. ¡°I never spoke to Murena. Would you? Look, I know you want to know why we were dealing with, uh, him, but I was too scared to ask. Knowledge can be so dangerous. Some things, if you know, you can¡¯t sleep.¡± His voice cracked. ¡°But I can¡¯t sleep anyway. Eyes, like lava, looking at me. That was the only part of him that stayed the same.¡± ¡°Elaborate, please.¡± ¡°Blink. Just blink, and his face is different. Like an illusion, which I thought is what he was working, to keep us from identifying him. But those lava eyes always stayed the same.¡± No race known to Lady Nensela answered to any such description. At once she remembered the advice of her priest: she must find the Fire Lords. ¡°Is Murena the one who is cutting off the sorcerers from the spirits?¡± ¡°No, my lady. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s not him, only because Murena spoke of an ¡®interceptor,¡¯ but I never saw whatever it was.¡± Interceptor. Icy needles probed Lady Nensela¡¯s spine. ¡°What else can you tell us about him? Spare nothing!¡± To his credit, Claudius finally managed to stop trembling. But as for Murena, or the Interceptor, he knew nothing more. ¡°You need Gallo for those answers.¡± ¡°Gallo has run off, leaving the rest of you to die,¡± Lady Nensela said, allowing spite to show through her voice. ¡°The portal in the room where you imprisoned this woman, where does it lead?¡± The look in the throat-cutter¡¯s eyes turned cagey. Did he see a way of escape for himself? Let him imagine so, she decided. ¡°The portal came from Murena,¡± he said. ¡°None of our scryers can See where Gallo goes when he enters it; we can¡¯t find him at all once he goes through it.¡± ¡°So generous a benefactor, this Murena is,¡± Lady Nensela observed. But her stomach churned as she wondered if the portal¡¯s power to evade scryers was limited to Gallo. Or would it hide Edana as well? Claudius visibly swallowed, hard. His eyes strayed to her bow case, a silent question. ¡°Odd,¡± Lady Nensela began. Now she addressed Ziri, ¡°Did I err in expecting him to offer leverage to save his life? How little reason he has given to keep him alive! Do you see a purpose in his continued existence?¡± ¡°Wait! I do, I do know where he might be,¡± Claudius cried. Cagey no longer. ¡°Let me be your bait. Money¡ªnot for you, for Gallo. I hold the purse strings, I kept the books, and some of the vaults require my help to access them. If you play this right, you can sow chaos for him and bring him down. I¡¯ll be more than happy to help.¡± ¡°Will you now?¡± ¡°Attack one, attack us all, that¡¯s how it was supposed to be. Do you see him here? After all these years¡ªyears¡ªhe left me to die!¡± His chest heaved, and his shoulders shook. After a while he quietly said, ¡°Aside from that, I owe her. For my part in her suffering. Please, I don¡¯t want to die. Keep me from Murena and I¡¯m your man. It works both ways; if Murena knows how to hide us he knows how to find us. He found her. All these years I gave my all for Gallo and the Red Daggers. I put my soul on the line, and where is he? I no longer have any loyalty to him¡ª¡± ¡°And none to us, either.¡± ¡°What does that matter? You don¡¯t need me to love you. I fear you, is that not enough? And more than that, I will help you find Gallo.¡± And thus, Edana. Lady Nensela thought now of her brother. In battle, it was ever his way to turn an enemy¡¯s weapons and tactics against him. A successful strategy, particularly when he kept speed and surprise in his quiver of tactics. Surely Gallo believed all of his men had perished, and if so, he would look for no trouble from that quarter. But there was still the matter of Murena. What were his motives for ordering Edana¡¯s capture, when all who spoke of the giants were slain at his command? What tortures would the shadow agent subject her to? No. Now was not the time to entertain catastrophes. No inert bovine was Edana; the child was resourceful, and extremely motivated to escape from Gallo. Count her a soldier in this battle. And the daughter of the Sea Lord? Lady Nensela exchanged a glance with Ziri, and he in turn gestured for his men to take Claudius in hand. Time now for the Sea Lord¡¯s child, whose withering glares made her hesitate. Must the Children play nicely? ¡°May we speak? I belong to the Seeker, and you belong to the Sea Lord. On such terms I would confer with you,¡± Lady Nensela said. As she hoped, the demigoddess was rattled. Thoughtfulness replaced wrathfulness, in her face at least. Might they come to an understanding with one another? When the demigoddess nodded her assent, Leo followed Lady Nensela to what had been Gallo¡¯s office. Once the Sea Lord¡¯s daughter was comfortably settled on the couch, he left the women. His backward glance as he closed the door almost made Lady Nensela smile. With a practiced eye she looked over Gallo¡¯s office. Though thoroughly ransacked¡ªor scuttled¡ªthe decor proved that banditry paid him well. The man even possessed some modicum of taste; several of the sculptures in the room were clever copies of classical pieces. Thank the Seeker they were mere copies: what yielded no intelligence in this lair must be destroyed. A man who did deals with the likes of Murena, and who captured asrai and gods¡¯ daughters, was a man who needed to be obliterated. When Lady Nensela was sure the woman was at ease, she joined her on the couch. ¡°You are going to plead for his life,¡± the woman accused, her eyes blazing. ¡°Last year, the Seeker gave me a vision.¡± And she told the woman of what she and the four other prophets foresaw. As she spoke, the woman¡¯s gaze cooled, softened. ¡°I have a suspicion as to what Murena is up to,¡± Lady Nensela said. ¡°I seek proof. But I believe he may wish to force the gods to walk again in our world, for reasons that I cannot guess, but that I fear with every fiber of my being.¡± The woman looked expectantly at her. ¡°An abomination was done to you, and to handmaidens of the Restorer¡¯s daughters. People who worship the Reaper are being attacked. So far the dryads appear to be untouched, but I will not claim certainty on that score. Do you understand me?¡± The woman didn¡¯t answer right away. Instead she closed her eyes and sighed. ¡°These are extraordinary days. You do not seek that man¡¯s life out of selfishness or misplaced compassion. If you require him, I will spare him. No longer do I believe I was taken by chance misadventure, nor even for the base reason he claimed I was captured for. I was sent here for a purpose. To give aid. And I believe you are the one I am meant to help.¡± Chapter 25: Through the Portal XXV Through the Portal In which Edana is surrounded by enemies Portals always seemed so marvelous and mysterious, and Edana always wondered what it would be like to go through one. Disorienting. One blink, a flash of dark, a second blink, and she was now staring down at a different floor from her position over Gallo¡¯s shoulder. Without warning, Gallo shifted her from his shoulder to his arms, making her stomach roil. Fortunately, she managed to keep her food down. Cradled in Gallo¡¯s arms, Edana¡¯s head lolled slightly, letting her see this new room he had brought her to. Lurid mosaics and frescoes adorned the walls. She shuddered, but she couldn¡¯t wrench herself free of him. All she could do is what he allowed her to do. Edana felt as if she were immobilized in a gauzy cocoon, one that restrained her limbs, distorted her sight, and blunted her reactions. Worse, her mind seemed to have become unmoored from her body, and only the flimsiest of tethers kept it in reach. Yet, she could not seem to fly back, and she panicked. Did anyone ever fail to recover from a compulsion? What remedy was possible? What if she always felt this way? Every time she tried to struggle, the ¡®cocoon¡¯ tightened. From far away came a strange, plaintive wail. ¡°Be quiet,¡± Gallo snapped. ¡°I said I would hear no more from you.¡± An eternity went by before she realized he was talking to her. She had made that wail. Not only because of her helplessness¡ªthe imagery adorning the floors and walls unsettled her. What did Gallo intend in bringing her here? Part of her wanted to shut her eyes, to keep her fear in check. However, the other part of her coldly insisted she needed to know where she was, if she were to have a rational hope of escaping. ¡°Back so soon, Gallo?¡± A voice somewhere to the right. The click of hobnails on the mosaics told her the bearer of the voice was rapidly approaching. Or perhaps he had already reached them. She took so long to comprehend everything. Suddenly, she felt a jolt so strong she bit the inside of her cheek. A naiad stared down at her from a great distance. The naiad wasn¡¯t real. Obviously, because the naiad was on the ceiling, and they liked to live in water. But why was she looking at the ceiling? Gradually she realized she had landed on something soft and pouffy that made her sink a little. How far would she sink? Oh, not that far. She would only have to struggle a little bit to sit up. Could she make herself do that? No, it was too hard. While she considered her next move, Gallo loomed over her, along with another man. Who was he? Perhaps the voice had belonged to him? Gallo glared. The other man smiled down at her. ¡°A new one? Business or pleasure?¡± Rage sparked in her. Images flashed through her mind of her running her blades over their necks. She sank further into the cushions, feeling weaker than she did before. Save your strength, you fool. For a moment clarity came to her, and she finally understood that the compulsion spell grew stronger every time she tried to resist it. The only way forward was to give in and bide her time. Gallo turned his glare to the other man, who had lifted her foot, the better to admire her shoe. The leather shoes, a soft sky blue, were a thank-you gift from a client. A nice lady who owned a shoe store, and liked sparkly things. Although, Edana thought she herself liked sparkly things, too. The toes were covered, protecting her from the elements, with slim straps crisscrossing over her instep. Little gold-in-glass beads decorated the strap, spaced at intervals. The silver buckle of her ankle strap was embossed to resemble a flower, and embellished with a black niello finish. The man turned her foot in his hands and whistled. He ran a hand along her ankle, and started to further push her dress up when Gallo slapped his hand away. Her leg dropped back onto the cushion. ¡°Touch her and I¡¯ll nail your hands to the wall. Understood?¡± The man looked only mildly abashed, but he winked at Edana and clasped his hands behind his back. ¡°This little honey could make us a fortune,¡± the man protested, but he sounded cheerful about it. ¡°Look at the day-cor on her shoe. Her papa¡¯s rich. Bet he¡¯s important. We can send him one piece of clothin¡¯ at a time for the ransom.¡± Did he have an accent? Yes, he pronounced ¡®decor¡¯ as day-cor. Where had she heard such an accent before? ¡°That¡¯s not why she¡¯s here. Ready my carriage.¡± ¡°Is she going with you?¡± Gallo bared his teeth, and the man laughed, and half ran, half stepped back a few feet. ¡°I¡¯m going, I¡¯m going.¡± Hobnails on tile clattered as he moved. From his sandals? The man himself became smaller and smaller as he went away, then he disappeared. Soon a door creaked on its hinges, followed by a snick. Gallo still loomed over her. ¡°Give me any trouble, any trouble at all, and I will turn you over to Gaius. Understand?¡± Still disoriented, Edana wanted to nod, but couldn¡¯t move properly. Her heart fluttered when Gallo suddenly brought his face inches from hers. Terror washed over her and she tried to scream, but no sound came out this time, and the ¡®cocoon¡¯ constricted her throat as well. Gallo grabbed her neck, forcing her to sit up. Stars blazed in her eyes. Gallo had slapped her, she realized. He supported her with one hand, but he¡¯d moved the other from her face to her hair, gripping a handful of it tightly enough that the pain shocked her back to her senses. ¡°You will behave.¡± ¡°I will behave,¡± Edana repeated dully. Gallo released her, and she fell back, limply. Her head throbbed, but she felt a wave come over her, a familiar sensation that told her the pain would dim soon. The cocoon loosened, somewhat. Because of the pain? Or her obedience? The naiad¡¯s vapid gaze met hers again. A muscle spasmed near Edana¡¯s mouth. Such fanciful ideas Gallo had about the female form! Unable to move, all she could do was stare up at the ceiling. Bells sounded, and quiet voices followed. Quiet voices followed in turn by Gallo bellowing orders, and then the sound of footsteps receding. For a seeming eternity Edana only heard Gallo puttering about the room. Eventually, she heard hobnails striking tile again. Soon enough Gallo¡¯s friend leered down at her once more. ¡°Shall I carry her for you? Looks like she was too much for you,¡± Gaius said, raising Gallo¡¯s hand and fingering the bandage. He shifted his gaze between the bandage and Edana. ¡°You don¡¯t usually have to compel a woman. Not like that, anyway.¡± Edana had to smother her irritation. Before going through the portal Gallo cut his hand to refill the vial. To bind the wound he had torn a portion of her favorite shawl, which she always used to wrap around herself and her hair when she went outdoors. The shawl was made from a fine linen, mixed with cotton to give it a pretty sheen. Even better, it was peacock green, which matched her eyes. Hand-painted silver almond blossoms gilded the edge. And the barbaric oaf tore it! For no reason! Through her childlike annoyance she noticed the cocoon did not tighten. Interesting. So irritation at Gallo did not strengthen the spell, only thoughts of rebellion? Gallo jerked his hand away. ¡°That¡¯s enough out of you, Gaius.¡± He seized Edana¡¯s arm and yanked her off the cushions, forcing her to stand. ¡°Your feet work. Keep behind me, or I will leave you here.¡± Mindless, placid, Edana followed him through corridors that confirmed her fear he¡¯d brought her to a brothel. No one would look for her in a place like this. How long before the spell wore off? Someone shouted something, and Gallo replied, ¡°She¡¯s not for sale.¡± Instinctively she clenched her shawl tighter about herself. A small part of her exulted, that she was able to execute the act. Was it because she wasn¡¯t rebelling? Or because of the spell¡¯s degradation in power? Up the stairs they went, and through a lush, expansive courtyard with a swimming pool. They had to zigzag through the tangle of couples cavorting about. Edana stepped only where Gallo stepped, staying close behind him as he had ordered her to. The cocoon loosened yet a little more. Finally they were outside, where a huge, windowless carriage awaited them. A slave opened it, and Gallo gestured for her to get inside. She did so, and sat. Gallo shoved her aside, to make room for himself. Idly, Edana wondered if he realized his rough treatment sped her recovery of her mental faculties. Perhaps if he hit her once more she would be free of the compulsion? How could she get him to do that? Still, he was sitting closer to her than she liked, and he pinned her in place by sitting on the overspill of her gown. If she regained her will, she wouldn¡¯t have a way to free herself easily without giving him the warning he needed to do the compulsion spell again. Unless she stabbed him first ¡­ no, stabbing him meant his blood outside his body, which would help him, not her. Silly girl! Something must have shone on her face, because he looked sharply at her, but said nothing. The carriage started moving. Since the seats didn¡¯t have springs, Edana¡¯s bones learned of every bump along the road. Occasionally, she was jostled into Gallo, who eyed her from time to time. ¡°Whatever schemes you have, forget them,¡± he said finally. ¡°No one will look for you here. And you¡¯ve got nowhere to run.¡± Oh, but Edana didn¡¯t want to run. Wasn¡¯t he taking her someplace he felt safe? Someplace sure to be bursting with vital intelligence? Where she could wreak effective havoc against him? No, what she needed was an exit plan. However. Gallo was looking her over, openly assessing her. Her nerves jangled when he suddenly took her hand in his own. Why was he glaring at her hand? The answer came to her when he rubbed his palm over over the back of her hand. Her skin was smooth, supple. Not chapped and broken. Whereas his skin was rough, scratchy. Ropy veins crisscrossed the back of his hand. Gnarled joints and cracked, blistered palms emphasized a more servile or rough origin for him, and an absence of such for her. All they shared in common were scrupulously clean nails. In a silky voice he asked, ¡°How many have you killed, I wonder? You were a pampered play-pretty before becoming a spy, weren¡¯t you? What changed?¡± The question confused her. Hadn¡¯t the Red Daggers investigated her? Once the Red Daggers began looking for her, they should have had a ridiculously easy time finding out about her and her life. After all she was no recluse, and she never expected to have such men on her trail. ¡°The giants,¡± Edana answered. It was true, and top of mind. Lying was not an option, not in her state. ¡°So? Why do you care if they¡¯re here or not? Why should it make a difference to you?¡± ¡°What a stupid question.¡± Inwardly she groaned, and the cocoon tightened once more. Interesting, a small voice in the back of her mind observed. Without any self control she reverted to an impudent child. Until now she had no idea how much of her speech she filtered. And to think, she used to chide herself for bluntness. Whatever you do, don¡¯t be yourself, her inner mind exhorted. Gallo¡¯s jaw worked, and his free hand twitched, but he refrained from hitting her. With his other hand he tightened his grip on hers, barely enough to discomfit her. ¡°It is the question I asked you,¡± he said softly. ¡°It is the question you will answer.¡± ¡°They kill innocent people.¡± He threw his head back and laughed so hard his shoulders shook. ¡°That¡¯s all? People are killed every day. You don¡¯t become an arcana over something silly like that. There¡¯s more.¡± His voice hardened. She sifted through answers, allowing one to come to the forefront. This one she rolled over and over in her mind because it was true, but also it was safe. ¡°Tell me why.¡± He squeezed her hand. Not enough to make her cry out or wince, but enough to ensure he had her attention. Papa¡¯s face floated into her mind, and for only a moment Edana felt safe, in a way that she hadn¡¯t felt since before she lost him. ¡°I can wish for a different life, or I can make life safe for those who cannot fight, and win against those who mean them harm,¡± she said, her voice sounding dreamy and far off even to herself. Gallo sighed, but Edana¡¯s confusion deepened. Why didn¡¯t he want to know about Lady Nensela, or the Star Dragons, or their plans? Why didn¡¯t he want to know how much she knew about the giants? Damn his spell, she had so many questions for him to answer. Apparently the interrogation was over, for he asked nothing more of her. Although, from time to time he stared sidelong at her. Edana bided her time, gingerly probing the ¡®cocoon.¡¯ Her earlier efforts to resist had strengthened the spell enough that even now she could not dare to directly cross him. While her thoughts were becoming clearer, her mind was still slow. More, she had just supplied herself with proof that she couldn¡¯t be trusted not to say the wrong thing. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Somehow, she had to speed the process of regaining her free will. Whatever Gallo intended, she could not afford to be helpless when he did it. The light outside had grown dim by the time the carriage stopped moving. Gallo got out, and shut the door firmly, leaving Edana alone. Before she had time to properly speculate as to his intentions, the door opened again, and he once again joined her in the carriage. The carriage began moving again, but not for very long. When they halted, Gallo turned to her and reminded her that she must obey him. ¡°No matter what anyone asks, don¡¯t answer unless I tell you to speak. Understand?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± she replied. He looked her over, as if checking for some sign of rebellion. He started to say something, but broke off when the carriage door opened. Gaius stood there, backlit by waning sunlight. At Gallo¡¯s command Edana followed him out of the carriage. They were standing in the midst of a courtyard paved with red tiles, which looked especially red now that the sun was setting. Which meant it was about eight hours past noon. Five hours in captivity¡­ A stately carriage was parked next to Gallo¡¯s. Bright though it was, it wasn¡¯t the red paint that arrested her attention. Emblazoned on the carriage was a seal. Six circles formed a hexagon around one circle in the middle. The top left circle caught her eye: inside it was a portrait of a black horse with flames coming out of its mouth. The Morvarc¡¯h. Edana¡¯s heart pounded. At the Rhabdo she was certain she had seen the fire stallion before. Now, at last, memory clicked into place and an icy dagger pierced her heart. Amelu. A carriage parked on the street where she and Amelu were ambushed had born that same six-around-one seal. Shock rocked her to her core, but Edana¡¯s rational mind quickly took over. She carefully studied the other portraits in the circles: a kraken, a winged tiger, a sea dragon, a sphinx. And three stars arranged in a downward diagonal, with trailing lines to suggest they were moving at speed. Falling stars? The central circle bore six lines. At first she thought the lines were meant to represent ¡°wind,¡± for the rightward tail of each line curved. Then she realized that each curve curled under the line. Not like a wave¡ªlike a claw. She was seeing individual claws, arranged in a circular pattern. What was this? What did all of this mean? Gallo jerked her arm, and she stumbled a little as she tried to keep pace with him. They approached a set of tall double doors studded with dark bronze nails. Before they reached it, the doors swung open and revealed two guards with drawn swords. The gold-plated trim of their black leather armor would have seemed impressive, but for the fact that Edana had already seen Lady Aelia¡¯s Drakon Guard. Nor was their charge as impressive as Lady Aelia, Edana judged. The guards flanked a woman who stood shorter than Edana by a good foot; sepia curls piled high on her head added inches to her height. Had her expression not been so stony, the ringlets framing her face might have softened her angular features. Her white silk chiton sported a plunging neckline, deeper than Edana would ever willingly wear in public, but to little purpose, showing off only a walnut-sized sapphire dangling from an elaborate net of jet beads. Pearls and jet studded the belt cinched just below the woman¡¯s sparse bustline, allowing her gown to hug her scant figure a little more than it otherwise would. ¡°What are you doing here, Gallo?¡± ¡°Good to see you, too, Honoria,¡± Gallo replied, with a sweep of his arm and a dip of his head. Edana¡¯s heart skipped a beat. The woman had to be HV, Honoria Vartanian ¡­ who lived in Karnassus, a three month¡¯s journey east of Kyanopolis by land. Two weeks by sea. Oh, Speaker help me, please. Would Ziri be able to scry for her so far away? ¡°I have come to prevail upon your¡±¡ªGallo glanced at Edana¡ª¡°your hospitality. I¡¯m sure you can spare the room.¡± Honoria¡¯s gaze slid over to Edana, sweeping over her without seeing her. ¡°A room large enough for you and your courtesan, no doubt.¡± Gallo glanced at Edana and caught her eye, ensuring she did not miss his smirk. Impassive, Edana focused on what Honoria was telling her, however unwittingly: she was either not a Sleepless Enemy, or if she was then Gallo was not aware of it. The man could not be stupid, let alone stupid enough to try and deceive a fellshade. Unless¡­did the Red Daggers not employ women in their ranks? The Star Dragons employed courtesans as spies, an obvious choice for certain missions. The only outlaws she¡¯d seen in the Red Dagger fortress were men. Perhaps that was why Gallo wasn¡¯t worried Honoria would think Edana was an arcana. Let alone his prisoner. ¡°If you please,¡± Gallo replied. ¡°My guard will ensure she¡¯s no trouble to you. Why, we will observe discretion, and not have her leave your home. In fact, she won¡¯t leave my quarters, and will be so quiet your other guests won¡¯t know she¡¯s here.¡± Not even a lie, Edana noted. An evasion. Well, Gallo was fleeing Murena; and he had run to Honoria to accomplish that goal. That had to count against her being a Sleepless Enemy. It had to. Unless Gallo didn¡¯t know what she was¡­ Edana studied Honoria¡¯s face, watching her reaction. Would Honoria catch that the terms he¡¯d used for Edana¡¯s stay mirrored those of a captive? Or had Gallo successfully deceived her? Which option was in Edana¡¯s best interest? Honoria cocked her head and pursed her lips. ¡°Your quarters. So you think I will allow you a place here. Once again I ask, why have you come? I did not send for you.¡± ¡°You would have. But I don¡¯t think you wish this to be explained in the open.¡± ¡°There is no one in this household who will carry tales about what I say, or what is said to me. I wonder that you should even dare to imply otherwise.¡± In response, Gallo allowed his eyes to rest on Gaius, who had watched the proceedings with a faint smile of amusement. ¡°Do you not control your own men?¡± Gallo¡¯s grip tightened on Edana¡¯s arm. Edana¡¯s lips twitched, the only sign of her suppressed laughter. Having three different women in one day question his ability to control his men was probably a record for him. ¡°What I think is you¡¯re smart enough not to openly speak of our business in front of anyone who doesn¡¯t need to know it.¡± The answer earned him a long, hard stare. ¡°Come.¡± Inside the house Honoria snapped orders to her slaves. The servants led them upstairs, and through a series of corridors until they finally came to a set of double doors. One slave preceded them inside, and presented the room to them with a flourish of his arm. ¡°Everything you need is here,¡± the manservant assured them. He glanced at Honoria, who wasn¡¯t even looking at them. She leaned against the door frame, tapping a staccato beat against her elbow all the while. The manservant cast a dubious eye over Gallo¡¯s small trunk, glancing from the trunk to Edana. ¡°Does the lady have more baggage arriving?¡± ¡°Whatever is here will suit her fine,¡± Gallo said with a tight smile. Gaius piped up, ¡°We left in a hurry.¡± ¡°Enough,¡± Honoria cut in. ¡°Your wardrobe is your own problem. Come with me. Now.¡± Edana¡¯s heart pounded. If she could escape, she might be able to reach Keziah¡¯s brother, Isaac, at the Karnassus Gate. Unfortunately, Gallo kept a firm hand on her arm, and she winced as he tightened his grip. ¡°In a moment,¡± he said. When Honoria remained in the doorway he added, ¡°Alone, please.¡± The manservant immediately made way for the door, but Honoria refused to budge without giving Gallo one last glare. She shut the door with more force than necessary. Gallo jerked Edana¡¯s arm, leading her into another of the rooms in the suite. Fading sunlight poured through the windows, casting a warm glow against the chairs and cushions arranged for lounging about the room. ¡°Sit,¡± Gallo commanded, indicating a comfortable set of cushions propped up against a column. Gaius had already pulled the rope from his bag, which he now used to bind Edana to the column. When Gallo was satisfied that she could not escape, he retrieved the key from the lock in the door, pocketing it for himself. Gaius lingered, but Gallo shooed him out. As he shut the door, Gallo instructed Gaius to tell the servants ¡°my lady is resting,¡± and should not be disturbed. Several of the small windows in the spacious room were at an accessible height. Easily breakable windows, she hoped, as the heavy door was unlikely to yield to any strikes she might make against it. With an impatient sigh Edana noted the so-called cocoon of the compulsion spell seemed fairly loose now, but she could still feel its effects. Should she give it another hour? Did she have another hour? And what would Bessa think if she knew about this? Edana¡¯s stomach clenched as a pang of guilt came over her. If she were fortunate, Bessa wouldn¡¯t find out about Edana¡¯s abduction until Ziri had a chance to scry for her. Her reverie was interrupted by a gurgling sound. With a start she remembered she hadn¡¯t bothered with the meal at Fanuco¡¯s. Which meant she hadn¡¯t eaten anything since the fruit and cheese at breakfast. ¡°Move,¡± she whispered. Several heartbeats went by, but the cocoon did not reassert itself. Her heart did a somersault, and she allowed herself a small smile. If she could talk without a direct order commanding her to, maybe she could get free, too. Now she studied the ropes. Not enough slack for her to reach her knives and safely unsheathe them. Which was just as well, as Gaius was clomping about in the next room. Revealing she had a weapon before she secured her situation would be unwise, especially as she didn¡¯t know if Gaius was a sorcerer. Instead, she wriggled around on the cushions. Part of one cushion was between her back and the column. Lowering it would give her the necessary slack. Bit by bit she managed to flatten the cushion. So far, the spell did not interfere with her movements, but how would it react to her directly defying Gallo¡¯s will? She didn¡¯t have time to find out. Click-clacking sounds at the door was all the warning she had before it swung open. Gaius stood in the doorway, holding some sort of metal stick that he must have used to pick the lock. Again with the smug smile, this time accompanied by a pose he struck before strolling over to loom over her yet again. ¡°So how¡¯s your day been?¡± What was he up to? ¡°I¡¯ve been having a good day myself,¡± he said, plopping down next to her. ¡°Crossed everything off my to-do list today. And you? Believe it or not, you¡¯re having a good day, too. Seriously let¡¯s go over the facts here.¡± He used his fingers to tick off each point. ¡°First, you apparently managed to frighten Gallo, or piss him off somehow, without him killing you. Pat yourself on the back for that. Second, Gallo had to use a compulsion spell on you, which means you had to come pretty damn close to killing him. That spell is like a dagger he keeps up his sleeve, you know? ¡®Think you got me? Surprise!¡¯ But he don¡¯t have a scratch on him, and you don¡¯t have a scratch on you, so that means you didn¡¯t try to fight him. You know what that tells me?¡± She arched an eyebrow. He sniggered and patted her hand. ¡°Tells me that you must be pretty important. Especially since he brought you allll the way over here, and he doesn¡¯t even like Little Miss Sweet Thing. And let¡¯s see, what else? Ah yes, now we come to point three: no ransom. Like, you¡¯re obviously ransomable, but he¡¯s not asking for one. Also if you don¡¯t mind me saying so, he doesn¡¯t act like you¡¯re his woman, either. That makes you a mystery, Lady Green Eyes. What would make Gallo want to hold you prisoner, and why couldn¡¯t he just smack you around a bit to do it?¡± When she didn¡¯t respond he prodded her. ¡°Come on. You can tell me. Go ahead, tell me.¡± Edana ignored him. The lackey was highly unlikely to untie her. Therefore, he was of no use to her. How to get him out of the room? No¡ªshe did have one use for him. ¡°Does not one wolf know another of its kind? If Gallo does not trust you, why should I?¡± The cocoon remained slack. The icy pit in her stomach melted, just a little. Per Gallo¡¯s order she couldn¡¯t answer questions unless he gave her leave to do so. Refusing to answer Gaius¡¯s questions meant she was obeying Gallo, and thus the spell allowed her the freedom to defy Gaius. Gaius sucked his teeth, but she remained silent. ¡°Come on now, you don¡¯t exactly hold the whip hand here, girl.¡± ¡°That makes two of us. As you noted, Gallo has taken care with me. Injure me, and you will answer to your master for it. Unless you have a way to escape this house? A place you can go where Gallo cannot find you?¡± The question apparently confused him, because he furrowed his brow. In turn, Edana hid her impatience. How could she get rid of this pest? Gaius tried again, ¡°Won¡¯t you be here a while, My Lady Green Eyes? Won¡¯t you need friends in the meantime?¡± Perhaps, but what she really needed was to get out of this¡ª Bang! Startled, Edana and Gaius both jumped. Honoria stood in the doorway. New cracks in the wall radiated from the spot where the door knob slammed into it. At first, Edana was relieved Gallo had not returned, but Honoria¡¯s scowl killed her hopes before they bloomed. ¡°Give it a rest, lackey. No one is stupid enough to trust you.¡± Honoria snapped her fingers, and Gaius rose. She strode into the room, and Gaius passed her without a word, stopping only to linger in the doorway. A slight turn of her head and he closed the door¡ªnot firmly, Edana noticed, but Honoria did not look back to check. All of her attention was fixed on Edana. For several heartbeats the woman stared silently, as if to let Edana¡¯s terror grow. Then, she skinned her lips back from her teeth in a ghastly parody of a smile. ¡°The poor little orphan girl,¡± Honoria spat. ¡°So clever. So ambitious. Valentis would have been ours had you not been so determined to exalt yourself. Congratulations, Little Nobody: you¡¯ve exalted yourself right into being worthy of our personal attention. Do you feel honored?¡± Honoria¡¯s mocking laugh resonated, jarring Edana¡¯s nerves so much that she clenched her teeth. The icy pit in her stomach yawned wider, becoming a canyon as the realization hit her: Honoria knew who she was. Something must have shown on her face, because Honoria¡¯s lips twitched. ¡°Did you think me ignorant? I wonder that Gallo thought to conceal your identity from me. Does he think we do not have eyes everywhere?¡± Her smile vanished, and she resumed her slit-eyed, thin-lipped glare. ¡°I told Escamilla he should see to you personally, since Valentis was his responsibility. All of that work we put into it¡ªthe city, the legions, the emperor¡ªall of them we had good and trussed, and salted, and ready for the knife. We were ready! Then you came along, with your silver. Escamilla claimed he would punish you fitly, but the fool sent ruffians instead. You live,¡± she groused. ¡°At least I was assured the Star Dragon died in agony. Did he?¡± As always, Edana flinched from the memory of Amelu¡¯s death. Every night she struggled to stave off remembrance of what became of him¡­ Kill me. Please. He¡¯d begged that of her. To help him die as a man. Not the¡­thing¡­he was becoming. The Red Daggers, as they learned too late, coated their knives in a strange and insidious poison. The icy terror that had been building inside her evaporated now in a conflagration of guilt, horror, and rage. Honoria¡¯s lips quivered in a gloating smile. ¡°Now the emperor has become so ¡­ interfering. Exiling, retiring, executing all the wrong people. Undoing Gagnon¡¯s clever, clever knots. All thanks to you and that Siluran. I would not make too much of that, my sweet. Everything you did will be in vain. No longer will you interfere in our plans. No, you will serve them. And to think, that fool Gallo delivered you straight into my hands. Ah, I see by your face that you know better than Gallo, don¡¯t you? You know what I am.¡± She touched an index finger to the ropes binding Edana, and slashed down. The ropes collapsed around Edana, broken in half and perfectly cauterized. Time stood still as Edana¡¯s heartbeat thundered in her ears. Honoria¡¯s face was only inches from hers. Close enough to feel her hot breath, which suggested she was indeed an eidolon, a fellshade in possession of a living host. The fiend stared at Edana as though Edana were a coveted doll, one belonging to a hated sister. A doll she would break out of sheer spite. ¡°Let us be clear,¡± she said. ¡°Only Gallo needs you alive. I do not.¡± Edana did not even attempt to move. Honoria was far too close to her, too close to risk discovery of what a fiend¡¯s reflexes were like. Or even if she were truly made of mortal flesh. Besides this, Honoria was still speaking. Surely death were not imminent if Honoria was taking the time to yammer at her? More likely she wanted to frighten Edana¡ªshe succeeded¡ªbut she was not going to kill her. Not yet. ¡°¡­ tell me,¡± Honoria was saying. Edana kept her expression rigid. Lying was impossible; to lie to a fellshade was folly, was it not? Silence was her only refuge now. How long could she stall? ¡°Didn¡¯t you say you could see everything? Why ask me questions?¡± She had steeled herself for the expected blow. To her surprise, Honoria simply straightened up and pivoted on her heel to face the door. Please, by the Speaker let her leave! But Honoria made no further move to the door. Instead, she glanced over her shoulder at Edana. She opened her mouth, and an unnerving trilling sound filled the room. The sounds echoed for a bit against the marble walls. Edana drew her knees up to her chin, hugging herself. Silence filled the room now. But it felt different. The air became sultry, oppressive, and Edana caught a cloying scent, tolerable at first, but growing stronger moment by moment until she was forced to cover her nose and mouth. She was so busy focusing on Honoria that she did not see what else was happening until she felt a waft of air to her right, and movement out of the corner of her eye on her left. Edana turned then. She screamed. Chapter 26: Desolation XXVI Desolation In which Halie shows her power and explains her purpose ¡°You may call me Halie,¡± the strange woman said, sitting up straighter. Her eyes flashed gold as she became more animated. ¡°As I said, I was sent to this world for a specific purpose. Until now, I believed I had failed. You see, before I drew breath in this world, my mother spoke to me of many things. The Sea Lord spoke to me in His turn, and told me what I must do. You are the one they told me to find.¡± ¡°For what purpose?¡± ¡°To help you fight the Aeternity War. But there is another thing we must do first. We must stop these giants.¡± Lady Nensela smiled tightly. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯ve been trying to do. But you make it sound as if that matter is incidental. And now you mention this Aeternity War, a cause or event that has never been known to me.¡± Halie rose and turned to the door. Her hair fell over her face, and around her shoulders, concealing her from view. ¡°You knew not of it because it was not the Seeker¡¯s will for you to know your part in it. Not before now. Not before you had your vision. And more importantly, not before you acted on your vision. That is why I know it is you I was told to seek. Come. You said that your friend has been taken, by the one who carried out the order to have me taken. Let us seek her now. Let us find her. We have work to do.¡± Lady Nensela offered Halie her arm, and Halie accepted. To her surprise, Halie turned back when they reached the door. She lifted her free arm and spoke a single word, ¡°Begone!¡± The ground rumbled and shook, and Lady Nensela stood transfixed as she watched what happened next. A black hole opened, first beneath Gallo¡¯s desk, swallowing it, then it grew bigger and bigger, taking into its depths every statue, every fixture, every piece of furniture until at last only the walls remained. Even those Halie did not spare. Cracks appeared in the frescoes, then the walls exploded, as if a dam had burst. Chunks of stone and rock fell into the chasm, aiming straight for the center before they were no more. When every part of what had been Gallo¡¯s office whirled into the chasm, Halie passed her hand over it in a broad, sweeping gesture. As quickly as it came, the vortex vanished, shrinking until all that was left was a deep, fathomless brine. ¡°By the Huntress,¡± Leo whispered. Ziri whistled, his expression awestruck, and only then did Nensela notice that the two of them had come up beside her. The men took a step back, contemplating Halie. With her hair concealing her face, only her right eye was visible. An eye which glinted with cold fury. ¡°Let no part of this place remain. Everything, everything must be destroyed. Let no spoils leave here with you that is of this place. A welp of the Abyssal Serpent has polluted these walls. I will cleanse these caverns of every trace of it, and none shall come here again and live.¡± Lady Nensela glanced at Ziri. Of course the spymaster looked amazed; Halie¡¯s order went against every part of his training. Surely he had trained his arcana similarly well, to focus more on gathering intelligence than spoils? The other Star Dragons, who stood far back, watched the proceedings in dead silence. Claudius, she noted, sank to the ground once again, palms up like a supplicant. At a gesture from Lady Nensela, Ziri snapped to his senses. Once again he bowed to Halie, deeper and lower than he had before. Ziri straightened, and hurried to carry out her order. He gathered his people about them, and loudly repeated Halie¡¯s command. Several Star Dragons pointedly disposed of plunder they took from the Red Daggers, and even Claudius was quick to strip himself of everything short of the clothes on his back. Halie eyed him in particular but he could not meet her gaze, flinching away every time he caught her eyes on him. Once Halie was satisfied nothing belonging to the Red Daggers would escape their fortress, she agreed to leave. The Star Dragons looked to her to set the pace as they hurried out. However, she patiently waited until they were all mounted on their gryphons before she abolished the fortress. The landscape around the clearing wilted. Every tree withered, every sward of grass browned, every petal of every blossom shriveled and fell to the ground. From ancient times soldiers would salt the ground of cities they razed, a curse against any who might rebuild them. In the here and now, Halie¡¯s brine served for the same purpose, and Lady Nensela and the Star Dragons bowed their heads for a moment of silence. Soon enough they left, with Lady Nensela sharing her gryphon with Halie, who rode behind her. When they passed over the bodies of the Red Daggers, Halie once again shouted, ¡°Begone.¡± They did not linger to see the chasm swallow the corpses.
¡°What do you mean she¡¯s gone?¡± Bessa clasped her hands behind her neck, elbows jutting past her chin, clear warning to back off. She had watched from the mezzanine as the Star Dragons returned. At first she exhaled in relief when she counted the gryphons. None were lost. But one gryphon was without a rider. And Edana was not among them. Bessa stood on her toes, stretched her neck, and squinted and scanned, calmly seeking for any sign of her. After all, Edana could have easily doubled up with someone. Stoic, she refused to panic. Not even when Lady Nensela gave her the news. Wisely, Lady Nensela made no attempt to approach her. Instead she glanced about the mezzanine, her eyes alighting on everyone present, as if she were checking that there was no one who should not be there. ¡°Gallo took her. To a place Claudius assures us he can find.¡± Lady Nensela indicated the man manacled and leashed at Ziri¡¯s feet. Bessa didn¡¯t even glance at him. ¡°And you trust this scum because?¡± ¡°Because he fears Her Grace, Halie,¡± she said, indicating the exotic young woman accompanying them. ¡°And he has no choice but to be as useful as possible, if he wishes to live. We will get her back, Bessa. This I know.¡± Her Grace. An honorific bestowed on a demigodess¡ªdryads and naiads¡ªbut what use were either of those beings when Erebossi were about? ¡°I thought Murena was after Edana. Seers are blind to fellshades. How do you know she¡¯s not trapped somewhere with him now?¡± Bessa took a step back, further distancing herself. ¡°If you were Gallo, would you be so quick to give away your only leverage? If I were Gallo, I would hide Edana in a place I have exclusive access to, until I found a way to resume being useful to Murena.¡± ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± Claudius chimed in. He sounded as if the idea came as a revelation to him. Bessa pivoted on her heel, at last deigning to give him her attention. ¡°With our people dead, there is nothing more Gallo could do for Murena,¡± Claudius said. ¡°Except to give him Edana. Gallo has his own plans, and even without that he wouldn¡¯t want Murena to think he¡¯s expendable.¡± ¡°His own plans?¡± Lady Nensela said sharply. ¡°You neglected to mention this. Do not think you will be permitted to trot out secrets at your leisure. Be useful very quickly, or I will end you.¡± Halie gave a feral smile, revealing sharp canines. Claudius visibly recoiled, and clamped both of his hands over his mouth. Keeping his screams inside? ¡°Only by her sufferance do I let you live,¡± Halie pointed out. ¡°Give her cause to doubt your usefulness, and I will end you first.¡± Through her fury, Bessa felt a wisp of curiosity¡­and fear. Claudius hastened to say, ¡°What I mean is, Gallo mentioned what he hoped would happen now that the giants are coming. Fantastical stuff. Think, the overthrow of the emperor. The end of the prophets. Absolute insanity! About the prophets, I mean. I¡¯m not sure what he has against them, but prophets are eternal. Only the emperor is temporary. Gallo thought Gagnon would be crowned, and he could cash in for all the favors. The giants are supposed to destroy the old order, and Gallo can help remake things as he wants them. He says¡ª¡± ¡°Where is Edana?¡± Bessa cut in, raising her voice. ¡°Where. Is. Edana?¡± Claudius¡¯s face froze, and his eyes darted from Lady Nensela to Halie, and now to Bessa. Some part of her could see Claudius was terrified and unsure who to please. No part of her cared; however, and she drew herself up to her full height as she glared down at him. ¡°She destroyed the portal,¡± Claudius said quietly, shifting his gaze to Halie. Bessa advanced a half step towards him, and he shrank back against Ziri¡¯s legs. ¡°B-but I have an idea,¡± he blurted. ¡°Like I said, Gallo will go for the vaults, and you¡¯ll need me for that part.¡± Haltingly, Claudius outlined how he and Gallo had worked out a plan for a worst-case scenario. In this plan, Claudius would place money into an account under a certain name, and they would meet up in Karnassus to obtain the money and run. ¡°We have to act fast, though. My seal is needed to open the vault, but it wouldn¡¯t be impossible for Gallo to overcome that problem. If he does, I¡¯m not sure how we can catch up to him again.¡± Bessa glanced at the sky. Sunlight waned, would night fall before they found Edana? ¡°Is this a private bank, or a public bank?¡± This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. If public, business was conducted during the day, in the temple complex of the city. Where there would be a multitude of guards who would hear screams for help. If private, that meant Gallo used connections with business magnates. Individuals of astonishing wealth who would have exceptionally well-guarded estates equipped with an ergastalum¡ªan underground pit where dangerous slaves were kept in chains. Some estate owners went down in infamy for their practice of throwing innocent passersby into their ergastula, and Bessa wouldn¡¯t put it past Gallo to maintain an acquaintance with such folk. Claudius ventured a smile. ¡°Time won¡¯t matter, not for this. If we go now¡ª¡± ¡°Go now. Into territory you know, and we don¡¯t; among people you trust, but we do not,¡± Bessa snapped. Ziri interjected, ¡°O honorable Bessa Philomelos, we¡¯re safer than you think: our good friend Claudius will give us the name, the account, and the bank, and will remain here in our charge. Should anything happen to us he won¡¯t live out this night.¡± Claudius straightened. ¡°I will need a tablet and stylus. And an oraculum.¡±
Darkness had fallen, and starlight glittered on the Viridian. Most warehouses in the port of Kyanopolis were now quiet. Not so in the corner office in the top floor of an ancient, graceful building along the pier. Inside his richly appointed office Ziri, along with Damya and four other scryers, surrounded a marble fountain projecting from an alcove along the left wall. Appropriately enough for seers, the rim of the fountain was carved to resemble valonian oak leaves and acorns. Dominating the main wall, windows of costly Athyr-aian glass offered up a visual feast of the Viridian and the moon, which hung low in the sky. Along the window an array of finely wrought figurines of marble or wood made up a tableau on a broad marble ledge. Lady Nensela reclined on an elegant bench in the center of the room. Eyes closed in meditation, the prophet appeared far removed from the bustle of the scryers. In a corner in the far side of the office, Bessa stationed herself beside a massive table of valonian oak. Stacks and stacks of papers, half of which were taken from Gallo¡¯s office, nearly concealed the Vassinassan marble inlaid in the table¡¯s top. Bessa took advantage of her unobtrusive perch to observe Halie, who stood beside Ziri at the fountain. With her back turned, she did not see the uneasy glances Bessa cast her way. What Lady Nensela said of Halie still made the hairs stand up on Bessa¡¯s neck. The demigods did not mix company with mortals¡ªor rather, Bessa amended with a glance at the prophet, they did not mix with those born to men and women. Yet here Halie stood, in their company. Why? Not for any light reason, she¡¯d wager that much. Worse, the demigoddess claimed a special mission to aid them. Which meant Murena really could be an Erebossan, perhaps a fellshade or arsh¡¯at?m or some other native of that shadowy realm. Bessa admitted to herself, finally, that she had been holding out hope she was wrong about Murena. Correctly guessing that agents of Erebossa were amongst her adversaries brought her no joy, none whatsoever. Especially since Murena sought Edana, and might now have her in his possession. What did the shadow fiend want with her? Surreptitiously, Bessa searched through the papers the Star Dragons had taken from the Red Daggers. Somewhere in this pile Gallo had to have written the answers she sought. Except he didn¡¯t. Oh, his papers revealed many details the Star Dragons might find tantalizing, but nothing she could make use of right now. Then she came to a leather portfolio, and flipped it open to the first page inside. In a fraction of a heartbeat she registered the black slashes and squiggles on the page, before red lightning flashed before her eyes. Terror jolted through her spine and deep into her nerves. Shuddering, Bessa reflexively slammed the folder shut. Placing a shaking hand over her heart, she counted out her heartbeats until she could regain her calm. Only once in her life had she ever experienced so primal a reaction: on a sweet summer day when she was nine. She had been picking apples with Edana and their friends when she uncovered a snake in her basket. What was that writing? Something Murena had written? ¡°Amyntas, protect Edana, please,¡± Bessa whispered. Terror and despair threatened to overtake her. Honey-tongued, some called her, and yet her arguments availed her nothing in keeping Edana from going on that raid¡ª Notes from the dream spinner sounded in her head, bringing to remembrance her own words. From her own mouth she said honor and duty came before her own safety ¡­ and Edana¡¯s sentiments matched her own, did they not? Her rage deflated, Bessa slumped against the table. Only then did she see Halie eyeing her with keen interest. ¡°Karnassus,¡± Ziri said, sharply enough to break Bessa¡¯s reverie. ¡°Of course! Gallo must mean to use the Gate. As soon as he gets the money.¡± ¡°Which should be in our possession, if your men are successful,¡± Lady Nensela said, rising from her bench. ¡°Where can that Gate take him?¡± Halie asked. Ziri pointed to an itinerary map on his wall near the fountain. ¡°To another Gate, or a lesser portal. The only other Gate in Rasena Valentis is in the Aerie. If he means to go there, I could arrange for a welcome party to meet him. If he means to travel to a private portal then I can make no promises about tracking him.¡± ¡°Karnassus holds more than one attraction for Gallo,¡± Lady Nensela pointed out. ¡°He may seek an alliance with Honoria Vartanian or Justin Kellis. Without his men Gallo must exploit a resource ready to hand: Edana, whom Murena is seeking.¡± ¡°So are we going to Karnassus now?¡± Bessa demanded. Ziri whirled. Seeing her standing behind his desk, he narrowed his eyes and started forward. Unabashed, Bessa stood her ground. ¡°When we get there, do we have a way to kill abyssal fiends and their servants?¡± Lady Nensela casually placed a hand on Ziri¡¯s arm, halting his steps, but it was Halie she looked to when she asked, ¡°Your Grace? Shall we leave Gagnon¡¯s allies to you?¡± The Sea Lord¡¯s daughter bowed her head in response. Now, finally, overwhelming curiosity obliged Bessa to engage with the demigoddess at last. ¡°If you please¡ªYour Grace¡ªwhy are you able to fight Erebossi? From the stories I would expect you to make tidal waves or grow a forest. But no story connects sea dragons or dryads with the Erebossi.¡± Cool, aloof, Halie gave no sign Bessa had offended her. Befitting Halie¡¯s status as the Sea Lord¡¯s daughter, Damya had clothed her in a golden sea silk chiton. The gown alone gave her a queenly air, but further still, abalone trimmed her sandals and pearls studded the stephane crown on her head. ¡°Your question is apt,¡± Halie replied. The folds of her gown swished and swirled about her long legs as she approached the table. ¡°Therefore I will speak to you of my assignment: the Interceptor. Every day the Interceptor grows stronger. Soon it will have the power to sever ties between sorcerers and the Nasiru, the guardians. In their own tongues my Father, the Huntress, the Restorer, and the Reaper call Themselves by this name.¡± Nasiru? Guardians? Coming to rest opposite Bessa at the table, Halie stood close enough for Bessa to catch a subtle whiff of aged ambergris. A sacred scent, burned as incense on the Sea Lord¡¯s holy day. ¡°Then the ¡®presence¡¯ the sorcerers report is a spiritual interdiction,¡± Lady Nensela concluded, having turned now to follow Halie¡¯s movements. ¡°Is the Interceptor one of the five Erebossi in Rasena Valentis?¡± ¡°Nay, it dwells in the Place Between. Such is the name of the realm between the cosmos and Erebossa. Unchecked, the Interceptor¡¯s meddling strengthens agents of Erebossa, and weakens sorcerers loyal to the Nasiru.¡± As she spoke, Halie fingered the sheaves of papyrus Bessa had rifled through. Now, up close, Bessa realized Halie did not have fingernails. In their place was something sharper, harder, and a trifle red: claws. Abruptly Halie glanced up, and met her gaze. ¡°Stories, did you say? Of my Father and my Grandmother? Ah, so marvelous it must be to hear them! Will you tell them to me sometime?¡± Shocked, Bessa could only nod. No sound came out when she opened her mouth. ¡°Thank you,¡± Halie said, gracious. ¡°Now let me say what the stories did not: sea dragons and dryads are not merely powerful stewards of the forests and the sea. Your world, Thuraia, is supposed to be a boundary between the temporal and the timeless. Between the corporeal and the incorporeal. Between the living and the dead. The latter of each of those is supposed to dwell within Erebossa. Children of the Nasiru defend this world from incursions by the Erebossi.¡± Bessa ignored the murmurs of surprise to focus on the one true measuring rod she accorded weight to: Lady Nensela. Because she was watching, she did not miss how still, how statue-like Lady Nensela became. As if she had said nothing remarkable Halie continued, ¡°Particularly they guard the shadow gates. Not against living heroes who want to enter Erebossa, or summon their dead. But from the dead and arsh¡¯at?m of Erebossa, who can also cross the shadow gates.¡± Silence. Questions swirled in Bessa¡¯s mind. Finding her voice she settled on asking, ¡°Why are there even shadow gates for your kin to guard?¡± ¡°The matter of their creation is better left unsaid,¡± Halie answered. She reached now for the folio case, and Bessa reflexively put out her own hand to stop her. The demigoddess paused, eyeing her. Under her gaze Bessa withdrew her hand. Halie picked up the case and studied it. Her nostrils flared. ¡°In the primordial days, neither dryads nor naiads nor sea dragons walked Thuraia. A day came when the Seeker spoke a prophecy unto the Nasiru. The next day, the Huntress seeded the world with dryad groves, and the Sea Lord placed the dragon eggs, and the Restorer consecrated the springs. All to defend this world.¡± Panic bubbled inside Bessa as Halie slid a claw between the covers of the leather folder. ¡°But what is the Interceptor? Wasn¡¯t the Scouring preceded by the Great Silence, when the sorcerers were cut off from the spirits? Did the Interceptor do that? Is it acting on its own now?¡± Unfortunately, her questions failed to distract the demigoddess, who flipped open the folder. For a long moment Halie¡¯s golden eyes roved over the page. Again she turned her gaze upon Bessa. ¡°This frightens you? The writing on these papers?¡± Mute, Bessa nodded. From under her lashes she saw Ziri react. ¡°As well it should. Were it otherwise I would kill you.¡± Halie tossed the leather folder back on the desk, scattering several papers. Bessa flinched. Mercifully, Halie turned away to face the others, who looked as gut-punched as Bessa felt. ¡°The Interceptor has no holy purpose,¡± Halie continued. ¡°The Great Silence, as you call it, required no interceptor. For the Scouring my kin sent forth the khrestai to destroy the sorcerers who were attempting to invite the Erebossi into your world. I am here for the Aeternity War, not a Scouring. The Presence is an enemy only; your sorcerers must be warned.¡± ¡°My play,¡± Bessa murmured, recalling the mission Lady Nensela gave to her. The prophet caught her eye, and nodded. But finding Edana must come first. ¡°When we find Edana,¡± Bessa began, ¡°how will you kill Honoria and Murena?¡± ¡°Kill them? Impossible. I will expel them. Any of you could destroy the mortal flesh they inhabit, but you cannot kill them.¡± Swiftly she turned on her heel and strode over to the tableau arranged on Ziri¡¯s window ledge. She swiped up a figure carved in wood, and held it up for them to see. A lamia. ¡°This snake woman you can kill: she was born to this world in the Age of Iniquity, though she serves Erebossa. But the lives of the fellshades are not tied to a body, as yours are.¡± The tip of Halie¡¯s thumb claw rested on the lamia¡¯s neck. The claw extended, lopping off the lamia¡¯s head, which click-clacked against the marble ledge where it fell. Ziri started; Lady Nensela tightened her grip on his arm. Taking no notice of their reaction, Halie continued the lesson. ¡°A body merely allows a spirit to influence this world directly, but the body also shackles their power. Unleashed from a body, you free them to usurp someone else.¡± Underscoring her point, she promptly beheaded a figure of a naiad. Now she dropped the lamia¡¯s body and retrieved her head, placing it on the naiad¡¯s body. Green light sparked from her fingertips, and the lamia¡¯s head was smoothly fused to the naiad¡¯s body, as if carved that way from the start. Again she astonished them into silence. Ziri¡¯s appreciative whistle broke the tension, earning a smile from Halie that revealed her sharp canines. ¡°Of course, an abyssal spirit might not possess someone,¡± she pointed out. ¡°They might choose to create a stronghold in this world instead. But my point is that the fellshades are indestructible spirits who must either be sealed away, or expelled.¡± Lady Nensela asked, ¡°Are the giants also Erebossi?¡± ¡°Indeed not, servant of the Seeker. Now for this Gallo. The sooner we save your friend, the sooner I end Gallo¡¯s sojourn in this world, and that of his allies. How soon can we make it so?¡± Chapter 27: Trapped XXVII Trapped In which Edana battles monstrous foes Heart racing, Edana screamed again and again. She pressed herself against the column, trying to make herself as small a target as possible. Howling, bloodthirsty creatures circled her, coming closer and closer with each revolution. The creatures were women, but not women. Oversized eyes glared out from wizened faces. Their nails¡ªtalons¡ªdripped with blood, a match for their blood-soaked tunics. Each time the creatures snarled they revealed terrible fangs, fangs that otherwise gnashed at their own lips and chins. Gashes and seeping wounds on their arms suggested the creatures clawed at themselves, or perhaps each other. There were three of this kind, and a fourth, their leader, a pale green woman drenched in dust. Her shredded chiton revealed her cadaverous figure, the largest part being her swollen knees. Sunken cheeks bore blood-crusted gouges, yet she bared her teeth in a rictus of a smile. She stood in the doorway where Honoria had been. But Edana didn¡¯t have time to wonder why Honoria hadn¡¯t remained to gloat. The creatures reached out, their claws coming within inches of Edana each time, toying with her. The mist they brought with them became thicker, and Edana covered her nose, knowing it now for a deadly poison. Edana¡¯s thoughts raced. You will get out of this room, she told herself. Screaming gave way to hyperventilating as she considered the situation. Move. Move, or die. Her shawl had pooled around her feet, a hindrance to her plans. Snatching it up, she bolted to her right. As she ran she wrapped the shawl thickly around her right forearm. Now to unfasten her sleeves, and unleash her firestone knives. Shouting an Eitanite curse, Edana launched herself at the nearest creature. Swinging high, and low, she caught the creature¡¯s hands, then her neck in the inner curve of the daggers. The firestones flared, the glyphs etched into them blazing reflections against the walls of the room. The other creatures averted their eyes, but Edana¡¯s chosen victim collapsed to the floor. Edana swooped up the fallen forearm and hurled it at the window, shattering it. The poison mist did not abate, but she did not expect it to obey natural laws. Nor did it matter, not for her plans. The she-monsters regrouped, and even the wounded one flipped herself upright, her head dangling grotesquely against her shoulder. The name of their species came to her then: keres. The heralds of violent death, unleashed from Erebossa. Edana leapt to the couch below the window. Knife in hand, she used her shawl-armored right arm to smash the shards out of her path. Pausing only to sheathe the second knife, she hoisted herself out. Fresh air bathed her face as she frantically looked down for a safe landing place. Free! No. Sharp claws clamped firmly around her ankle. Edana screamed, for the she-monster was preternaturally strong, and squeezed her so tightly she feared her foot would snap off. The ker pulled her back inside, and Edana offered no resistance. The moment the monster loosened her grip Edana swung her knife home. The ker withdrew, shrieking in pain. In the blink of an eye Edana unsheathed her second dagger. The sisters pounced. Edana whirled on her good foot, holding out her arms to slice the she-monsters even as she spun away. They shrank back. However, Edana learned fast: she pursued the weakest one, whose head was starting to right itself. Backed into a corner, the ker was helpless to stop Edana from catching her neck between her knives. The ker¡¯s head went west and her body east, but Edana was not surprised when both evaporated into the greater poison mist engulfing the room. Two more to go. One met her at the window, batting wildly at her, but to no effect, having lost an eye to Edana¡¯s knife. Her claws yielded to Edana¡¯s knives, and soon after, so did her head. Like her sister, her body also dissolved into the mist it had come from. The final ker rushed her from behind and Edana¡¯s arm lashed out, catching the she-monster in her heart. Her blade stuck. The creature flailed, but Edana whirled beyond the reach of her claws. A tremor shot through Edana¡¯s hand, and it took everything she had to hold on to her remaining dagger. Pain hammered at her skull, and sweat burned against her forehead. Escape. Escape this room now. Unfortunately, her legs felt as if she were immersed in a vat of honey, and she could only stagger, not run. Which way to go? The window? Or the door? But the green woman was at the door¡ª No. The green woman was moving. Every blink drew her closer and closer. Suddenly, a coolness seeped through Edana¡¯s dress. What was¡ªoh, she had backed herself against the stones of the far wall. The green woman drew level with the final ker, and paused. She reached out and gripped the ivory handle of the moonbow blade and yanked. Blood sprayed everywhere as the ker screamed and collapsed, swirling into the mist before her body could hit the ground. The green woman examined the dagger, her claws hovering over its curves, tracing its shape through the air as she eyed Edana through her lashes. Edana kept moving, shuffling against the wall. The window was lost to her, she realized. It was ground she had ceded, and she could not take it back. The certainty of this fact forced her to keep moving, to her left, left, as she shambled against the wall. Salty sweat stung her eyes but she ignored it, as she ignored the feverish heat of her own head. The green woman watched her curiously for a moment, before sashaying forward. Coming from her, the movement was freakish. A taunt. Sheer perseverance put Edana closer to the door, level with the column where she¡¯d been bound. A little more, a little more¡ªher legs trembled and her knees began to buckle. The green woman leaned against the column and crossed her legs at the ankles. Edana clenched her jaw and tried to gather her strength. The green woman raised the moonbow blade, pointing it at her. Kill me with my own weapon? I do like her style. If only she could use the green woman¡¯s poison to kill her. Nevermind. Count. One. Two. Three! Edana launched herself off the wall. Momentum, and a lengthened stride, helped her reach the door in three steps. Gripping the knob with every ounce of strength she had left, Edana fell forward. As she hoped, her own weight forced the door shut. She remembered just in time to click the lock home. Gaius shrieked. Bringing to her remembrance that he existed. Exhausted, she forced herself to turn her head towards the sound of chattering teeth. Ah, there he was. Cowering on the other side of the bed, in the serviceable bedchamber Honoria had begrudgingly given Gallo. Wham! The door rattled. Edana crawled away from it. ¡°What¡¯s in there?¡± Gaius cried, scrambling over to her. ¡°A monster,¡± she said. Laughter bubbled up inside her, along with memories of what legends said the green woman was capable of doing. Oh, Amelu. Poor, sweet Amelu. ¡°Run,¡± she warned. ¡°I may be a monster, too.¡± Gaius gaped at her. Wham! The hinges loosened. One more blow, and the door would come flying off. To Edana¡¯s amazement, Gaius gallantly scooped her up, then ran. They managed to reach the exit door when the other one sailed clean across the room, splintering into pieces when it landed against the wall. The snarling green woman bounded into the room and flung out her arm, sending the moonbow-steel dagger spinning across the room. Where it landed in Gaius¡¯s back. Gaius sank to his knees, jarring Edana only a little. He stared at her, his eyes round with surprise. Weak, helpless, Edana shook her head in mild sympathy. As his eyes rolled back his arms slackened, sending Edana rolling to the floor of the corridor. She scrambled to her knees. Because Gaius had fallen head first, his back was exposed. Just what she needed. Almost. The tremors in her hands made it impossible to pull out the knife. Edana grit her teeth, exerting all of her willpower to rip the dagger from Gaius¡¯s back. Recoil from the force of her action sent her slamming back into the wall. From inside the room the green woman eyed her. Suddenly she leapt, and landed on Gaius so hard she flattened him. A sparkling sapphire swung and bounced between the wide valley of the creature¡¯s breasts. ¡°Honoria?¡± She could not hide her terror or astonishment. Honoria¡¯s monstrous appearance suggested she was a shapeshifting arsh¡¯at?m capable of taking on a human likeness. Cackling, Honoria sank to her haunches, bringing her face within inches of Edana¡¯s. Poisonous mist swirled about her, and in two heartbeats enveloped Edana. Escape was no longer possible. Strike. Quickly, strike Honoria¡­but Edana struggled to raise her arm. Honoria cocked her head, watching her struggles with interest. After a moment she pointed a long talon at Edana. ¡°When I am done,¡± she rasped, ¡°not even your own mother would know you.¡± Lethargy overtook her limbs, and Edana¡¯s eyelashes fluttered. Amelu. The fate he¡¯d spared her when he¡¯d taken the blow in her place¡ªwould it be visited on her now? Last chance. Drawing her knees up took an eternity. For a moment Edana let her arms rest against her thighs. So fatigued was she that she didn¡¯t even flinch when Honoria reached out with her talon and flicked Edana¡¯s hair out of her face. A parody of maternal concern. The monster smiled widely at her. The whites of Honoria¡¯s eyes were a strange, sickly yellow. Yet her irises were milky, as though sheathed in cataracts. Continuing her mockery, Honoria cupped Edana¡¯s cheek. Edana swallowed. Did Honoria mean to slash her face before killing her? But no, her talons slid down¡­to curve against Edana¡¯s neck. Now. With her hands resting against her thighs, her long-knives did not have far to travel, meeting Honoria¡¯s outstretched forearm with ease. Edana dipped her wrists between her knees, then clamped her knees shut, giving her the force she needed to trap Honoria¡¯s arm between the blades. Honoria¡¯s screams echoed in the halls. Reflexively, the arsh¡¯at?m jerked her hand back, flaying herself in the process. The glyphs on the moonbow knives flared white once again, confirming Edana¡¯s suspicion that the daggers were proof against unholy creatures. They didn¡¯t flare like that for the giants, she remembered. In her loud, shrieking agony, Honoria rolled away from her. Were it not for her own battle to move, Edana would have been amused. Instead, her eyes grew dim. Honoria¡¯s screeching pounded at her ears and into her skull. Were she able to, Edana would have cried out in harmony. If you would strike her, you must kill her. The last thing she saw was Honoria¡¯s teeth.
Coordinating everything took several hours. It was well after midnight when Ziri¡¯s team brought them to Karnassus. The sickle moon had already set, which meant they would carry out their mission in complete darkness. They were met with an escort of Star Dragons bearing gifts of battle gryphons. Bessa accepted one, her determination overriding her fear of the beasts. Ziri initially insisted she stay behind. ¡°If Honoria is of Erebossa, there is nothing you can do against her.¡± ¡°Neither can you; Honoria is Halie¡¯s job,¡± she reminded him. ¡°And I don¡¯t care about Honoria, I¡¯m going for Edana.¡± She touched the stone beneath her dress. While traditionally people employed Sorcha¡¯s Tear to find enemies, Bessa fervently hoped the stone would help her find Edana. However, Ziri was a scryer, so the stone wouldn¡¯t serve in persuading him to include her. Thus, she didn¡¯t mention it to him. ¡°Leave her in my care, for I have need of her,¡± Lady Nensela cut in, earning a long look from Ziri. But he said nothing, and their argument ended. Before they left, Ziri distributed smaller versions of Sorcha¡¯s Tears, which would help them find each other if separated. Bessa¡¯s smile of triumph was fleeting, but profound. Now they circled the skies over Honoria¡¯s estate. Contrary to their expectations, no gryphons challenged them, nor any other flying sentries. Disquieting in itself. Quiet, with no signs of life, Honoria¡¯s estate was shrouded in darkness. According to the Karnassus Star Dragons, Honoria often held entertainments, but this night there was no sign of activity. If Gallo had fled to her, then the two of them were probably planning what they would do to Edana. Or summoning Murena. Sorcerers insisted the hour to summon a denizen of Erebossa was not a matter of chance or convenience. On this night, success was only guaranteed when the wandering star of Amyntas reached its zenith. Although ¡­ that was assuming Honoria must play by the same rules sorcerers did. Should she have a shadow gate, she would not be subjected to such mundane restrictions. Otherwise, Ziri¡¯s team had less than an hour. ¡°It¡¯s too quiet,¡± Ziri observed. ¡°And too dark,¡± Leo added. He risked a small light wisp, easily mistaken for a firefly in the distance. Up close, the light was sufficient for Ziri to divide the group into two teams. One to gather intelligence, one to find Edana. He placed himself in the latter group, with Halie. The layout of the house presented two obvious options for where Edana might be kept: a tower, which bore an oraculum. Or an ergastalum, below ground. A thought flitted darkly through Bessa¡¯s mind: no one would hear Edana scream at either point. Ziri held out his fist and uncurled it to reveal an enameled tin of blue wax, taken from Edana¡¯s desk in her office. Light flared from the tin, then flickered out. Long enough for Bessa to see Ziri¡¯s brow furrow, before his face was shadowed again in the feeble wisplight. ¡°What is it?¡± she whispered. ¡°What do you See?¡± He was slow in answering. ¡°Let¡¯s hurry. Come this way.¡± ¡°This way¡± proved to be the tower, which loomed over them to the east. An open door in a side portico gained them entry into a room in the house. From the room they came to a great hall, where dim glowlights offered up light every twenty feet. Once again, no sentry stopped them. Uneasy, they crept down down the corridor. At the halfway point, they halted. Clank thump, clank thump. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. The eerie sound echoed in the empty hall. Bessa froze. Was it a giant? The ceilings were tall enough¡­She swore under her breath. None of them had brought Salamandran acid; the Erebossi had taken all of their focus. Ever calm, Lady Nensela readied an arrow; the men dropped into fighting stances. In the distant gloom, a shape emerged. A woman. Haloed by one of the glowlights, she cupped a hand to her eyes and peered out at them. Her hair swayed and swirled, animated by an invisible wind. ¡°Come forward,¡± Ziri commanded. His deep voice rang out in the halls, and Bessa winced. The woman smiled uncertainly. ¡°My mistress did not tell me of guests.¡± She started forward, toddling unsteadily on her legs, as if she had a limp. Likely a limp from a false leg, given the metallic thumps she made when she moved ¡­ but why would she have a false leg, when she could just go to a naiad spring and be whole again? The hair stood up on Bessa¡¯s neck. Something about the sound of the woman¡¯s footsteps tugged at her memory. Memory of a story Uncle Min¡¯da told her and Edana one rainy afternoon. The unruly hair, flame colored like Bessa¡¯s¡­ ¡°Shoot her!¡± Bessa cried. Lady Nensela had already loosed an arrow, striking the woman right between the eyes. The woman toppled over, making one final clang when she landed on the marble floor. Tendrils of smoke arose from her head. Her skirts bunched up around her, allowing Bessa confirmation of her fears. ¡°An empousa,¡± Ziri said. Flesh-eater. Blood sucker. Two mismatched legs, one of a donkey¡¯s foreleg, and the other a woman¡¯s leg¡ªalbeit made of brass¡ªwas all the proof they needed. That, and the dying embers on her head, where her flames had been. An arsh¡¯at?m of Erebossa. Here, in the flesh. Before the mission Halie had asked for a pound of sea salt. Once brought to her she blessed it, and commanded everyone to fill a pouch with it. Now Leo tossed a handful of the blessed salt onto the empousa¡¯s body. The body shriveled and dissolved as they passed it by. Sixty feet onward, two more empousai greeted them. Lady Nensela loaded two arrows and fired. At the tower door they halted again: three empousai in front of them. And three behind. Lady Nensela and Ziri stepped past each other, with the seer taking the three in front, and the master arcanus allotting himself the three behind. Again Lady Nensela readied two arrows, as Ziri reached beneath his cloak and pulled out three throwing knives. Bessa and the others chose either the right or the left walls to flatten themselves against. Lightning fast, Lady Nensela fired a third arrow even as the first two were still airborne. Unerringly, the arrows flew to her targets¡ª Each empousa caught an arrow as it came within an inch of her eye. Smiling, they raised the arrows over their heads with both hands. As one they balanced themselves on their brass legs while they raised their donkey knees and brought down the arrows, snapping them in half. Bessa whirled, in time to witness Ziri¡¯s trio catch his knives. Seemingly unfazed, Ziri stood with his fists on his hips and his head cocked. The thoughtful expression on his face held her fears at bay. The empousai had caught the knives blade first. Which proved to be their undoing. They shrieked in obvious surprise, and snarled in rage or pain. The snarls changed to wails of horror as their punishment came due. First their hands blackened and withered, then their arms. Chunks of their flesh fell off, exposing their skeletons. Yet still they could not let go, could not stop their wailing, not until the rot reached their throats. Sparks and flashes of light drew Bessa¡¯s attention back to the battle Leo and Halie waged against the three remaining empousai. A silvery shield bubble entrapped the bloodsuckers. A word from Halie, and the space inside the shield rapidly turned the deepest grey, as if a fog had developed solely inside the shield. Soon enough the empousai were swallowed up, with no trace of them, not even their screams. Bessa eyed Lady Nensela¡¯s quiver. If the stories of the Age of Heroes was true, one required special weapons to slay arsh¡¯at?m. Usually blades of moonbow steel, or arrows tipped with them. But Lady Nensela did not use such just now. ¡°Are your arrows tipped with something dangerous to the monsters of Erebossa?¡± ¡°The Gift of the Huntress, which you would do well to collect,¡± Lady Nensela replied. ¡°Creatures of the underworld cannot abide that which comes from the heavens.¡± ¡°Ohh¡ªstar manna! So that¡¯s the reason the Huntress has the manna rain down on the ash trees! Do the dryads mind if we take any? What do we offer them in return?¡± Bessa stepped aside to allow a Star Dragon to pick the lock on the door she had been leaning against. However it was Halie who answered her. ¡°Star manna is a gift. Be mindful to cut no tree with billhooks forged of iron. Bronze is fit for use, but touch not at all the trees wreathed in vines of fire and ice blossoms. These are not meant for you.¡± Her golden eyes flashed. ¡°For your sake I urge you not to test this law, for the khrestai will enforce it.¡± Vengeful khrestai? A shudder rippled through Bessa, but aloud she agreed she would not abuse the goodwill of the khrestai or the dryads. The door swung open. Absolute darkness awaited them. Ziri had sheathed all but one of his knives. When he noticed Bessa eying it, he flashed a roguish smile. ¡°Family heirlooms,¡± he said by way of explanation. Leo snapped his fingers, and a wisp of light appeared. Unlike a candlelight, it did not flicker or gutter as it floated in front of his face. Waving his hand, he shooed it on ahead. An attack on the light would serve as an early warning system. Swiftly, quietly, they ascended the stairs. Halfway up they reached a landing, marking off a door in the wall. Halie blocked them from going forward. ¡°Attend these,¡± she said, indicating the lintels and posts. Glyphs were burned into the wood, barely visible in the wisplight. ¡°What does this mean?¡± Ziri whispered. ¡°Erebossa has power here. These symbols say so. Beyond this door is an antechamber, where an abyssal spirit may be contained when it is summoned.¡± ¡°Beware of sorcerers who have such rooms,¡± Leo added. The priests nodded their agreement. ¡°Can we be trapped here?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°Definitely,¡± Leo answered. ¡°An unscrupulous sorcerer might cover the symbols with decoration. Trust me, if you visit a sorcerer, never enter any rooms where the posts or lintel aren¡¯t completely visible. Curtains are a telltale sign; don¡¯t disregard them.¡± Now Ziri took command. Though he faced Lady Nensela, his gaze flickered to Bessa. ¡°Whatever you mean to do, Lady Nensela, this is where we must part for now.¡± To Bessa¡¯s surprise, he handed her his throwing knife. ¡°If anything comes out of this door, and it¡¯s not us, kill it.¡± ¡°Unless it¡¯s Honoria,¡± Halie reminded them. Bessa mentally reviewed the description the Karnassus Star Dragons had given them of Honoria Vartanian. ¡°I remember,¡± Bessa assured her, accepting the knife. She glanced at Lady Nensela, who demurred when Ziri offered her his last throwing knife. Then she looked to Halie and asked, ¡°Can you neutralize the spells, Your Grace?¡± As one, Leo and the two priests violently shook their heads. ¡°The spells are to trap the abyssal inside,¡± Leo pointed out. ¡°Breaking that ward is the last thing you want to do.¡± ¡°Yet Honoria somehow passes through these doors,¡± Bessa pointed out. ¡°Yes indeed,¡± Halie agreed. ¡°As worded, the spell binds only an unfettered abyssal spirit, not an eidolon. Ironic, for a body otherwise shackles the power the eidolon can wield. But becoming an eidolon also frees an abyssal spirit from certain other bindings that a body is not subject to.¡± A frightening loophole. Bessa considered the Oathtaker pins the sorcerers wore, and for the first time it dawned on her that taking the Oath against meddling with Erebossa may have doubled as protection for sorcerers. Particularly inexperienced sorcerers, who might rely on rules they didn¡¯t completely understand and wound up unwittingly ensaring themselves. ¡°Ready?¡± Ziri asked. His hand was already on the knob. Lady Nensela and Bessa stepped back. The door opened. The priests entered first, followed by Halie. Ziri brought up the rear. With one final, meaningful look at Lady Nensela, he shut the door firmly behind himself. Bessa turned to the prophet. ¡°What is your plan?¡± ¡°The skein is tangled,¡± Lady Nensela replied, solemn. ¡°One single strand leads to the outcome we need. Give me your word, Bessa, that you will trust me. Not lightly, not without deliberation, did I choose Ziri. It is to him, and to Halie that we will entrust with Edana¡¯s care. You and I have a different task, and we must see to it now.¡± Bessa¡¯s heart pounded. A pit yawned open in her stomach, where dread took residence. Until now, she felt no fear. She met Nensela¡¯s eyes. ¡°I swear.¡±
Something cold and hard was biting into Edana¡¯s wrists. Her left arm ached, and her face was numb. More, she couldn¡¯t feel her legs. A mixture of musk and damp mustiness assaulted her nose. Those were the sum total of her perceptions. No matter what, she could see nothing. Only darkness. Her eyes never adjusted to it, never showed her even the outline of shapes. After a while Edana had to fight to keep from panicking. Was she blind? Or¡ªblindfolded? Reluctant to move, or give any sign of consciousness, she remained still. Whatever Honoria planned for her could wait until Edana understood her surroundings enough to improvise her own plan. Not that her previous attempt at improvisation had worked out for her. Still, silent, Edana strained to hear anything other than her own breathing. Gradually, she became aware of the cool air that washed over her. Only then did she realize she was no longer wearing her chiton. A shriek died in her throat, unvoiced. The sensation of the breeze on her flesh was strange. Unpleasantly strange. Roar! A lion! The scream came readily from Edana¡¯s lungs now. The lion sounded disturbingly close. Oh, so she was to be executed? Edana gave up any pretense of being unconscious. Frantic, she pressed her face into her upper right arm, and began rubbing. The chains she hung from clinked in rhythm. Something cold and slick slithered against her arms, in tandem with her movements. She gasped. What touched her? Thank the Speaker, she was blindfolded. Pinpricks of light came to her as a band of cloth fell to her neck. Confirmation she still possessed her sight calmed her. Slightly. Light spilled down from an unknown source. The shadows of that source showed her she was in a pit covered with a metal grate. Darkness concealed the dimensions of the pit. What else resided here with her? Why hadn¡¯t the lion charged at her? Grrrr. Not a lion roar. A bear? Edana clenched her jaw. Great. And somehow, disappointing. Would a sleepless enemy really do something as mundane as feed her to lions and bears? A shadow fell over her. Honoria. Grinning down at her. Back to her human guise, Edana noted. However, the bandage wrapped prominently around her forearm betrayed her as the monster Edana had fought. ¡°Awake now?¡± Gloating saturated her voice. Edana didn¡¯t answer. Above the pit, Honoria was not important. Inside the pit, the wild animals mattered. Yet no matter how she squinted or where she turned, she never saw the lion¡¯s eyes. Surely a lion¡¯s eyes glowed in the darkness, like the sleek little watch-cats that guarded Lady Nensela¡¯s granary? ¡°You can get out of this pit, you know,¡± Honoria said sweetly. ¡°But you won¡¯t want to. Your life as you knew it is over. Over. From now on, you will call Murena ¡®master¡¯. Get used to the idea, because when you hear the bell of my water clock, he will be here.¡± Uh-huh. Let the eidolon dream as she would, Edana needed to focus. Just where were the beasts? ¡°Edana? Don¡¯t you want to know why your life is over?¡± Something in Honoria¡¯s voice made Edana look up. However, Honoria had disappeared. A loud swoosh, and light bloomed in the pit. Temporarily blinded, Edana shut her eyes. When her sight returned, Honoria was once again grinning down at her. ¡°Look down,¡± she said. Blood slowed in her veins. Look down? Did she want to do that? Steeling herself, she looked. Down. And further down. A scream bubbled inside her. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her heart stopped entirely, and time stood still. From the torso up, she was naked. And human. Ringing her torso, where her waist had been, were the tiny heads of lions, bears, wolves, boars, and eagles. Below the heads came glittering dragon scales. Scales. Scales that tapered into snake tails where her feet should be. Something was wrapped around the scales. A bigger tail. Which terminated in a scorpion stinger. Edana¡¯s head lolled. Her face turned to the light, but she didn¡¯t see it. She fainted. Cold water ended her blessed oblivion. Honoria stood in front of her, holding an empty bucket. ¡°Still not time,¡± Honoria said. ¡°Any moment now. Time to make a choice, Edana. No wait,¡± she said, tapping her chin. ¡°You can¡¯t be ¡®Edana¡¯ anymore. Edana was a person. Human. You are what I made you: an arsh¡¯at?m. Monster. An abomination. Ohh, how it must sting for you! Do monsters have ¡®people¡¯ names?¡± Hatred warmed Edana¡¯s belly. Honoria smiled. ¡°Naturally, I have a name. Properly enough, since I appear human. Everyone will know just looking at you that you¡¯re not. Let¡¯s come back to that later. For now, let¡¯s discuss your master, Murena. And how you will behave when he gets here.¡± Powered by rage, Edana violently twisted. Her scorpion tail unfurled and arced around, striking Honoria squarely in her stomach. Knocked off her feet, Honoria fell to her hands and knees. For several satisfying minutes she writhed in pain. But all too soon, she rose up. ¡°Fool,¡± she said, clutching her stomach. ¡°Stupid girl, you need me. I¡¯m the only one¡ªbesides Murena¡ªwho can change you back. I don¡¯t want to. Or need to. But you need me to. So you¡¯ll do exactly as I tell you to do. If you want to be ¡®Edana¡¯ again.¡± ¡°Fool,¡± Edana shot back. ¡°Your choice is to kill me before I kill you. I will serve no fellshade.¡± ¡°Do you seek death? Well of course, in your state. Simply wait for your friends to arrive; they¡¯ll kill you on sight. The question is whether or not they themselves will die shortly after. Do you understand you are bait? Certainly your people will come to rescue you. And if you consider a mercy killing a rescue, then they¡¯ll succeed. Of course I knew you wouldn¡¯t serve me for your own sake. But what about theirs?¡± Another roar deafened Edana¡¯s ears, but this came not from a beast but from her own blood rushing through her, heating her from the inside out. Vengeance. Let Honoria make one mistake, just one, and Edana would have her blood. Edana¡¯s bitter laughter echoed against the walls. ¡°Truly, fellshade, did you come into this world last night? Does your plan depend on me believing that turning me into this abomination is on your menu, but also that you¡¯re too honorable to serve me a cup of lies?¡± ¡°Huh. Good point,¡± she agreed, and surprised Edana by bowing in respect. ¡°Very well, I admit I expected you to be too desperate to regain your beauty to think of that. Think on this: you brought this on yourself. Did you think yourself clever, eliminating Duke Gagnon? Well I salute you, because you were clever!¡± Another mocking bow, this time accompanied with a salute. ¡°Unfortunately for you, his death means our plans must change. Did I not say you will serve our plans now? And oh, how you will serve! Murena is coming. He is your new master now. How that works out for you and your friends is entirely up to you.¡± At last the point penetrated through Edana¡¯s fury: Honoria needed her. All the same, despair threatened to overtake her. So Honoria needed her alive. And? What need did Honoria have to undo the hideous metamorphosis she had wrought? None. None at all. To trust Honoria would be to deliver herself into a trap, and Edana had been too well-schooled to fall for it. Schooled in the Sayings, which readily came to mind, particularly the verses promising due punishment against the wicked. Fast and fierce, the words poured forth from Edana¡¯s lips. Honoria recoiled, and stumbled backwards before abruptly vanishing in a puff of smoke. When she reappeared, she stood over the grating once again. ¡°I warned you,¡± she snapped. ¡°I told you. Don¡¯t blame me for what happens next. This is your own fault.¡± She stalked off, but Edana took no notice. A hard lump formed in her chest. Grief poured over her. For the first time in her life, she understood why someone might welcome death. Not struggle to avoid it. But embrace it, like a long lost friend. So, this. This, these eighteen years. This was all the time she would have to live her life. Time she may not have used well. The first twelve years of her life held no regrets. Crossing the isthmus, however¡­ True, the choice was not hers. Not the journey, no. Being obstinate in refusing to empathize with her father for wanting to return to Eitan, even as she openly longed to return to Silura? That was her choice, one she regretted. How hard had she made the last six months of her parents¡¯ lives? If only her father had consulted a seer before uprooting their lives. But such was not his nature, and over the years she made peace with that fact. Besides, what seer could undo his desire to reunite with his family? Thanks to Captain Asher, she finally understood his parting from them had not been voluntary. Not the way her mother had willingly parted from¡ªor fled¡ªher own family. So they had to leave Silura. That part of their fate Edana made herself accept. If only the rest of it had gone differently. If, if, if. How those words plagued her life! If her father had not wanted to leave, if they had opted to go at a different time, if they had traveled a different route, if they had stayed together when the bandits routed them¡­ Beyond that, if she had not lived as a lone wolf, as Bessa once chided her. By her own will Edana ruthlessly avoided entanglements. After all, she was striving to return to Silura, so why form new connections it would hurt her to sever? Only one indulgence she permitted herself: daring to try and fit in with the Eitanim of Kyanopolis. Curiosity about them had overwhelmed her, but her Siluran accent and Yriellan ancestry made them wary of her. More, some went so far as to criticize her father, and she feared her ignorance of certain customs would bring shame on him and her mother both. Courage. In the end she lacked the courage to take the next step of forming friendships. Nor to bring herself to risk finding her father¡¯s family, to redeem the cost her parents paid for their endeavor. Consumed by her regrets about the past, she cut herself off from future possibilities. Including the glorious future the dream spinner showed her in Lady Nensela¡¯s library ¡­ was it only yesterday? By the Speaker! Tears blinded her. Unable to wipe them away, Edana closed her eyes. Still the tears flowed, and she let herself cry. Who would see? From a distance Honoria¡¯s voice floated down to her. Chanting. A summoning spell? Jolted, Edana¡¯s thoughts raced. If her friends were coming, as Honoria claimed, then she must find a way to send Honoria back to Erebossa. And keep Murena from coming. Afterwards ¡­ afterwards Edana must find a way to die before her friends discovered her. ¡°Please, Great Sower, give me¡ªcourage¡ªto do what needs doing,¡± she prayed. Movement from the corner of her eye startled her: snakes crawled where her hair should have been. Tears glistened on her cheeks. Crying solved nothing; Mama always said as much. Cry later. For now, look down. Look. The scorpion tail coiled around her¡­scales¡­had knocked Honoria off her feet. What else might the cursed thing do for her? As it turned out, the thing acted like a limb, and was strong enough to break her shackles. She collapsed to the floor, but managed to catch herself. A waft of air caught her attention and she looked to her right. Wings! They, too, draped over the ground. Could she fly? First things first. After careful experimentation, Edana finally managed to stand on the snake tails. What method of locomotion was she supposed to use? Should she slither? Could she slither? The wings would serve her to cover her breasts, though she recoiled from their leathery texture. As much as she loathed the batlike appendages, she could not bring herself to abandon that last shred of her humanity. Her sense of modesty was all the dignity she had left. Except ¡­ she needed to fly. She crossed her arms over her bosom, doing her best to maneuver her hands to cover herself as much as possible. Now to unfurl her wings. Abruptly, she was airborne, before she fell again. It took her several attempts to master the wings, but once she did she used them to probe the dimensions of the pit. Thus, she found a door. A quick glance up told her Honoria was occupied elsewhere. That, and her incessant chanting. Still airborne, Edana used her tail to push the door open. Her heart sank. Beyond the door lay a tunnel, but one too narrow for her to fly through. Either she figure out how to walk, and quickly on the viper feet, or learn how to slither on the dragon scales. Or, simply drag herself along, using her hands. She swallowed. The floor was grimy, which was the first thing she noticed when she lowered herself to it. After a moment¡¯s hesitation she uncrossed her arms and began undulating across the floor of the pit, and into the tunnel, dragging what had once been her legs behind her. With every inch she gained, Edana prayed. Endless lifetimes seemed to pass as she made her way through the tunnel. Eventually, she came to another door. This one swung open easily, onto another pit. However, no grating barred this one. Above, a feeble glowlight offered a little light, and the breeze washing over her dried the salt on her cheeks. Breeze? Perhaps there was a way out? She flew up, and looked around. The nondescript room was just large enough for her to maneuver. Manacles hung at intervals along the walls, and on the two slabs bolted to the floor. She wrinkled her nose. Apparently, she had a heightened sense of smell. People were killed in this room. A shock went through her, and Edana looked sharply to her left. What was that? She heard it again. A scream. Not one of terror. Of fury. Chapter 28: Amyntas, Protector of Innocents XXVIII Amyntas, Protector of Innocents In which Edana avenges herself They took to the stairs two at a time, with Lady Nensela in the lead. ¡°That spell Ziri did,¡± Bessa began, ¡°the one to scry Edana. Do you know why he acted the way he did?¡± She held up her glowlight, the better to keep from tripping. Without stopping or turning around Lady Nensela answered, ¡°Were Halie not with us, I would fear for Edana. Take comfort in her presence and do not fret, for it serves us not.¡± Bessa ground her teeth, but tried to see things from Lady Nensela¡¯s point of view. For thousands of years the seer had relied upon the Seeker for guidance and sight beyond sight. Now in their world¡¯s darkest hour the Seeker had left her, blind and adrift. Apparently. Yet Lady Nensela counseled faith, and of all people she had the moral suasion to check any complaint Bessa might make. Thus, Bessa kept her silence. As she suspected, Lady Nensela¡¯s goal was the oraculum. However, Bessa would not cross the threshold before she ran her glowlight over the posts and lintels, Leo¡¯s warning ringing in her mind. No strange symbols lined the door. ¡°What good does this room do us?¡± Bessa asked, stepping inside. The moon had set already, but as a seer Lady Nensela wouldn¡¯t need celestial lights to activate the oraculum; any reflective surface would do if she wanted to contact someone. Though, it was unlikely the seer intended something so mundane. Lady Nensela pointed to the spot beneath Bessa¡¯s bodice, where Sorcha¡¯s Tear lay. ¡°The oraculum will magnify the power of the stone you have. And allow me to see what I must see.¡± By starlight the water looked normal, as Bessa saw when she came close enough to hold her glowlight over it. Crystal clear, not the violet of the asrai waters Leo had described to her. Whatever Honoria did in this room, she apparently did not use unholy methods to do it. On the other hand, the kibisis the sorceress Cingestissa had given Edana weighed against Bessa¡¯s thigh. The silvery-gold pouch dangled from the belt she had tied around her waist, and physically was as weightless as a ball of thread. But the psychic weight of carrying Murena¡¯s keystone inside the pouch was another matter entirely. Lady Nensela had insisted Bessa retrieve it from Edana¡¯s chambers in her house before they set out for Karnassus. However, she had yet to explain what she wanted with the infernal stone, and the possibilities preyed upon Bessa¡¯s mind. ¡°What do you need me to do? And are you sure we can¡¯t be seen? If an Erebossan uses this room, is it safe for us to use, too?¡± ¡°You are wise to worry about such things. However, the ones most likely to threaten us will be occupied by the goings on in Honoria¡¯s antechamber.¡± Still uneasy, Bessa hesitated. ¡°Can¡¯t the fellshades see you? I mean you, Your Grace. People who worship the Reaper are under attack. The asrai and the Sea Lord¡¯s daughter were captured. Edana said you and the seers were forced to separate after your conclave. Are you sure you¡¯re all accounted for? Are you sure the Seeker¡¯s Own will not be attacked?¡± ¡°It is my prayer that they are safe.¡± ¡°What of you? Edana said you live in the suburbs because you are sought after. Because you earned a reputation as a powerful seer. Halie implied you have a part to play, in this ¡®Aeternity War.¡¯ You are the one who acted on the vision, which means you are the one she needed to find. Doesn¡¯t that mean something? If you are eliminated, doesn¡¯t that mean something?¡± Lady Nensela shuddered, and abruptly turned away from Bessa. ¡°As you say, child. As you say.¡± ¡°So you know you¡¯re walking into a trap?¡± ¡°Indeed. I have walked into traps before. I have walked out. T¡¯was rare for those who set them to be seen again on this side of Erebossa.¡± Turning back to Bessa she added, ¡°Please, let us continue. The Red Daggers took Edana to ensure I would be here, at this time. But their means shall serve our ends. Come.¡±
Something crashed against the door. Edana hovered as close to the ceiling as she could. When she caught her silhouette against the floor she shuddered, then banked to the walls, into the dark where neither she nor her shadow could be seen. Again she looked around, and finally noticed the floor to ceiling window dominating the back wall. Neither glass nor curtains covered it, hence the breeze she felt. Undoubtedly an abattoir such as this required proper ventilation, as a simple courtesy for the butchers obliged to work in it. She risked floating down, closer to the door. On the table nearest the door a sheet lay crumpled, but she forced herself to ignore it for now. First she must find out what was happening on the other side of the door. ¡°You sons of whores!¡± Was that Honoria? Yes. Intrigued, Edana reached for the knob, then hesitated. Through the closed door a familiar, cloying scent came to her. The wolves at her waist keened. With a shuddering breath Edana imagined her friends on the other side of the door. Why else was Honoria using the mist? Her heart pounded. No convenient weapons, or weapon-like accoutrements in the room. What could she use? Swallowing hard, she forced herself to glance down at her body. Honoria had not liked her stinger. Very well. The crumpled sheet caught her eye again. Unable to resist, Edana grabbed at the sheet, and tore off a long strip to wrap around her torso. The wings got in her way, but she refused to be deterred. As fast as she could she wrapped the strip first around her rib cage. From there she formed a diagonal cross over her breasts, looping around her neck and down around her rib cage. Several more times she made the cross, making sure the strips overlapped. When at last she achieved the coverage she sought, she knotted the strip behind her neck. Edana flung the door open. At first she couldn¡¯t see anything except the mist. But she heard the bestial howling of the keres, and knew that a battle was joined. Using the door posts as a swing, Edana launched herself in the room. The bat wings saved her from falling on her face. Immediately she ascended, trying to get a better view of the scene. Several people clustered in fighting stances stood in the middle of the room. One threw a dagger at one of the keres. Ziri! Your friends will kill you, Honoria had insisted. Indeed. Because she diligently avoided every possible reflective surface, Edana didn¡¯t know if her face was unchanged. But Honoria¡¯s taunts strongly suggested she should not expect anyone to recognize her. Therefore, she couldn¡¯t expect Ziri to trust her in the heat of battle. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± she whispered. She said a prayer of thanks that neither Bessa nor Lady Nensela were with Ziri. By all means possible she must keep them from ever seeing her in this hideous form. From her hiding place, Edana studied Ziri¡¯s combat prowess. The arcanus went for clean kills, no torture or posturing. May he grant her such mercy. After she killed Honoria. And where was Honoria? Shape-changed to her true form, between what looked like a portal, and another slab, where Gallo lay. Blood soaked his tunic, but to Edana¡¯s surprise he writhed and moaned on the table. No, Edana decided: Gallo definitely didn¡¯t know Honoria wasn¡¯t human. Too bad for him, but she had the greater complaint, she judged. Studying Honoria, Edana visualized a strategy. Surely destroying Honoria should be enough to save the Star Dragons. An arsha¡¯t?m was killable, this she knew from the stories of the heroes of old. But the trick was that the heroes used special weapons ¡­ Gleaming objects on a smaller table nearby caught her eye. Edana brightened. Still in their sheaths, her moonbow daggers lay on the table. Furtively she descended into the mist and swooped up the knives, before undulating back to the ceiling. She carefully tucked them into her wrappings on her back as she circled overhead. Ziri and the others were handily dispatching the keres, killing four of them far more quickly than she had done on her own. Even so, ten more of the she-monsters swarmed about. Honoria swiveled her head back and forth from the widening portal to the battle. She never noticed Edana. Swooping once again, Edana snatched Honoria by her hair and pulled her into the air with her. Chunks of Honoria¡¯s hair came out by the roots, but Honoria couldn¡¯t cry out because Edana paralyzed her vocal cords with the scorpion stinger. Not stopping there, Edana slammed Honoria face first into the wall. Crack! Blood spurted, then gushed from Honoria¡¯s broken nose. Honoria spat out her teeth, which ricocheted from the ceiling and onto the floor below. Now Edana flipped her over with her tail. Fountains of blood poured out from Honoria¡¯s ruined mouth as she gaped at Edana. ¡°This is for Amelu,¡± Edana rasped. With the scorpion tail wrapped around Honoria¡¯s waist, Edana was free to use her knives. Slashing down, she deprived Honoria of her arms, and the talons attached to them. They fell to the floor, one of them landing first on the head of a ker. Not with frenzy but with cold fury did Edana plunge her blade into Honoria¡¯s navel, and slashed, upward to her throat. Again she flipped Honoria, letting the monstrous Erebossan see the keres circling below. Edana shook her so violently that Honoria¡¯s blood and viscera plopped onto the keres. The keres looked up and reached, howling and jumping. An idea came to her. By kicking her legs and frantically waving the stumps of her arms, Honoria revealed her own fears. Coldly wiping her blades clean on Honoria¡¯s gown, Edana made up her mind. ¡°This is for me,¡± Edana whispered into Honoria¡¯s ear. With those words she simply dropped Honoria, into the waiting arms of her servants. The keres caught her, and didn¡¯t spare so much as a minute to bother setting Honoria on the floor first. They simply began ripping her apart the very moment they grabbed hold of her. Honoria¡¯s jaw opened in a silent scream, her face contorted in pain. Because she was looking up, she saw Edana blow her a farewell kiss. The keres were ruthless, and soon enough Honoria¡¯s eyes rolled into the back of her head. So, Edana could kill her with her own weapons after all. Now for her own demise¡ª ¡°By the gods, no!¡± Ziri. For a heart-stopping moment Edana feared he saw her. But no, he and the others were looking in horror at the keres¡¯ handiwork. She ascended, frantic to escape their notice. Even though she needed to die, she did not need to die in the presence of those she-monsters. With her moonbow knives she need not involve Ziri at all in her death¡ª Why weren¡¯t they escaping? The mist hadn¡¯t abated just yet, though it was far thinner than when she¡¯d first came in the room. Even so, now that the keres were distracted, Ziri and the others needed to flee, before Honoria¡¯s poison turned them into monsters. They still looked human. In her heart a battle raged. Warning the Star Dragons was the only way to get them out of the room. Shame at her cowardice swelled within her. How could she bear to be seen, to risk them telling Bessa and Lady Nensela of her condition? Could she at least extract a promise from Ziri, to keep silent? Tears sprang to her eyes. If she were to die as Edana Nuriel, she had to act fast. She stood up for what was right. May you live to do the same. So Mama blessed Edana, when she explained why she named her daughter for her long-deceased sister. The first Edana had been an honorable woman of valiant heart. To dishonor her name ¡­ Edana swooped, low enough to stay just out of reach of the keres, but still within sight of Ziri. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here!¡± Leo shouted. Hope sprang in her heart. Maybe they would leave without seeing her? Back to the shadows she went. ¡°You run,¡± a woman shouted, drawing Edana¡¯s attention. A high priestess? A queen? On her head was the crown reserved for queens and high priestesses. Yet from whence did she hail, with skin so red? ¡°Leave her to me,¡± the mysterious woman continued. ¡°Get as far from this house as you can.¡± ¡°What about them?¡± Ziri asked. He¡¯d retrieved his knife, which he now pointed at the keres. No one saw Edana, which made the woman¡¯s statement all the more baffling. Clearly the priestess-queen thought they were dealing with a threatening woman, singular, yet she kept looking at Honoria¡¯s remnants, which the keres still feasted upon. How could Honoria still be a threat? The mist lingered. Edana shouted, ¡°Leave this room if you value your lives!¡± At last Ziri began to look around. ¡°Was that Edana¡¯s voice?¡± Leo demanded. The lions roared, the bears growled, the coyotes howled, the wolves snarled and the eagle screeched. And Edana wept. Ziri hesitated. The others clustered to him, glancing about the room for the source of the animal cries. It took everything she had to speak clearly through her sobbing. ¡°Leave! The mist will destroy you!¡± In the heat of battle the Star Dragons had ignored the mist. Now that Edana had called it to their attention, they saw it, and recoiled. The priestess-queen pointed to the remaining keres and began shouting in a strange language. In the blink of an eye the keres vanished into the mist, which itself began to rapidly dissipate. Ziri commanded, ¡°Everyone, pair up and find Edana, before Honoria¡ª¡± In place of the mist, a black cloud was rising from what scraps of Honoria¡¯s flesh the keres had left behind. A shudder rippled through Edana. What was the cloud? Leo¡¯s hands moved so fast she couldn¡¯t track them. Suddenly, a silver bubble enveloped the cloud. The priestess-queen said, ¡°The shield will not hold. Find your Edana and flee this place.¡± Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Another woman, wearing the indigo and silver robe of a Restorite high priestess, pointed to the portal still behind them. ¡°What will come through?¡± ¡°Help,¡± Gallo rasped. Ziri backed up and stretched his neck to see him better. ¡°What the¡ªhow is it you¡¯re not dead?¡± Gallo started to laugh, then coughed instead, his body spasming with each cough. ¡°She¡ªcough¡ªwas waiting¡ªcoughcoughcough¡ªfor Edana. For Edana¡ªcough¡ªto kill me, so Murena could t-t-take my body.¡± Blood trickled from his lips, down his cheek, and onto his neck. ¡°Why Edana? Why not do it herself?¡± Ziri demanded. The priestess-queen answered. ¡°Because Honoria doesn¡¯t belong in your world. Murena has to be invited in, and Edana is native to this world. Honoria is not. If Edana wounded Gallo enough, it would complete the spell and Murena could enter this man¡¯s body.¡± ¡°You win the prize,¡± Gallo screeched. ¡°But that¡ªcough¡ªwas Honoria¡¯s plan¡ªcough. Murena wanted to¡ªcough¡ªpossess Edana.¡± They exchanged glances. Edana suspected they were thinking the same thing she was: if Murena possessed her body, he could personally thwart their plans against him. Or kill them all unawares, strangling their battle against him before it truly started. ¡°Edana would never cooperate,¡± Leo said staunchly, folding his arms. ¡°I¡¯ll bet that¡¯s why you¡¯re the one on this table.¡± Ziri bolted for the smaller table where Edana had retrieved her knives. With a start, she realized what drew his attention: the remains of her chiton and shawl, shredded beyond all hope of salvage. He held them up for the others to see. ¡°No blood,¡± he noted. ¡°But she may still be hurt.¡± Murmuring rippled through the ranks of the Star Dragons, but the group spread out and began shouting her name. Leo spotted the pit and began to look down. Edana¡¯s heart pounded. Even without the mist, the others were in danger. Allowing them to waste time searching for her was unconscionable. The silver bubble expanded as the smoke filled it; a poor container for the evil inside. She wouldn¡¯t allow herself to think, or she would lose her nerve. First she sheathed her knives, to ensure she did no accidental harm to her friends. Her own appearance was threatening enough. Then she willed herself to glide down, placing herself just out of Leo¡¯s reach. He jumped back, and swore loudly when he saw her hovering a foot off the floor. ¡°Arsh¡¯at?m! Kill it!¡± With a flick of his wrist Leo sent her careening across the room, striking her with a gust of wind like an ice ball to her midsection. The wind slammed her against a wall. Breathless, stunned, she crumpled to the floor. The bat wings draped over her, concealing her. With her face against the cold floor, Edana trembled in fear and grief. Eyes closed, she waited for the killing blow. At least she would see Mama and Papa soon, she told herself. The priestess-queen decreed, ¡°Let the works of her wickedness die with her.¡± A line from the Sayings! How unexpected, yet reassuring. Something stung her. She flinched, again and again as someone relentlessly pelted her. Refusing to scream, she clenched her jaw. What were they throwing at her? Not knives, damn it. Something subtle and sweet, a mix of brine and balsam¡­aged ambergris? Yes, the incense that perfumed the city air on the Sea Lord¡¯s holiest day of the year. Another wave of grief washed over her. A tear escaped, racing down her cheek. In her mind¡¯s eye she pictured those she loved most, and tried to think of her most cherished times with them. Cold water suddenly splashed her, eliciting a yelp of surprise. Why did she feel as if she were immersed in the sea? ¡°Toss that thing in the portal, Leo,¡± another man was saying. ¡°Leave her,¡± the priestess-queen commanded. Leo began to protest, but Ziri cut him off. ¡°Add your water to Halie¡¯s,¡± Ziri ordered. Vervain. The water splashing over her now bore that scent. Right, hadn¡¯t she seen a Restorite priestess? Her body tingled. A Restorite ¡­ were they trying to restore her? Ziri¡¯s voice was gentle when he spoke. ¡°Edana, can you hear us?¡± They know. Dying anonymously was no longer an option, but she could not bring herself to hope for her own restoration. Grief shut her lips, and she could make no answer. ¡°Shhh. Shhh.¡± This from the priestess queen. ¡°Do not fear. You have fought well, and you have stayed true. Do not fear.¡± A spasm went through Edana, forcing her to arch her back. Her skin burned. At last she cried out, seared from head to toe. Wracked with pain she bucked and writhed, thrashing against the wet floor. When, when, when would it be over? Abruptly, the pain vanished. She huddled against the floor, chilled and shivering. Something soft and warm fell over her skin. With one hand she blindly clutched at it. With the other she removed a wet and heavy object draped over her eyelids. Another blindfold? Hair? Her eyes flew open. The priestess-queen stood before her, gazing down at her in open concern. She held out her hand. Edana reared back. Claws! Was the woman a dryad? Did dryads have claws? ¡°Young mortal, I know how you feel. But you will be fine now. Please, take my hand. We must leave this place, quickly.¡± Icy water clung to her skin, but more than coldness made Edana tremble. Hair. That was what she held in her own fist, what she continued to feel when she probed her head. Not snakes. Hair. Her own. Edana looked up. The exotic priestess did not appear repulsed by her. Her expression was soft, and full of compassion. And Ziri and the others had turned their backs to her. Could she dare to hope ¡­ ? Still the woman held out her hand. Proof enough that she believed Edana could stand. Gathering her courage, Edana looked down. This time, her tears were tears of joy. The woman¡¯s outstretched hand felt strong and warm when Edana clasped it. Strong indeed; she pulled Edana to her feet with one hand. Unsteady on her feet, Edana made no protest when the woman embraced her. Especially as the woman used the opportunity to wrap her more securely in a robe of indigo and silver. The robe of the Restorite priestess, who stood by now in the pleated blue chiton she wore beneath the robes. ¡°What of Gallo, Halie? Is it safe to kill him?¡± Ziri asked, not glancing back or turning around. Still clasping Edana, the priestess-queen slipped one of Edana¡¯s knives and its sheath from the wrappings Edana still wore, and tapped Ziri¡¯s back with it. Without turning around, he took the knife. ¡°Remove his head to be sure,¡± she said. Ziri did so, giving Gallo no time to protest. After, he used Gallo¡¯s tunic to clean off Edana¡¯s knife before sliding it back into its scabbard. ¡°Will you destroy the portal, too? Or will attacking only open it further?¡± ¡°Look,¡± Leo said. ¡°It¡¯s already closing. But my little bubble isn¡¯t holding.¡± He started to edge for the door. ¡°Can you run?¡± the dryad?¡ªHalie?¡ªasked her. ¡°I think so ...¡± Evidently Ziri caught the uncertainty lacing her voice, for he strode over to Edana and swept her into his arms. The others took this as a signal to run, and wasted no time in doing so. The last out, Leo shut the door, as if it might serve as a barrier. ¡°Should we try for the oraculum? We can summon our gryphons there if we can break out a window,¡± the Restorite priestess suggested. ¡°We don¡¯t know what Honoria keeps up there,¡± Ziri pointed out. ¡°And we don¡¯t have time for another¡ªwhere¡¯s Lady Nensela? And Bessa?¡± He turned this way and that, allowing Edana a good view of the corridor. Behind him she saw a swirl of white fabric. Bessa! Surely it must be her. A heartbeat later Bessa burst into view, followed closely by Lady Nensela. Their faces glowed with triumph and excitement. What had they been up to? Bessa rushed forward, ams outstretched when she spied Edana. ¡°You¡¯re safe!¡± Ziri shifted Edana in his arms, allowing Bessa to embrace her. With her nose against Bessa¡¯s unruly hair, Edana inhaled the scent of apples and wildflowers, courtesy of the soap the Xenakis housekeepers gave to Bessa. ¡°Thank you, Great Sower,¡± Edana whispered. ¡°Edana?¡± Bessa pulled back to look at her. Her eyebrows sharply tented in her concern. ¡°Later for your reunion. Now we run,¡± Ziri said firmly. Several other Star Dragons came running up from the other side of the corridor. Everyone seemed unusually alert as they raced down the corridors. First came the rumbling. Then the ground shook, a warning which barely preceded the explosion that made them all stumble. Plumes of dust blinded and choked them, slowing them down. Through the haze Edana spied rubble behind Ziri¡¯s back. The walls had fallen. Black smoke, thick and noxious, furled upward. Lightning flashed inside the plumes. Edana cried warning. All of them, including Ziri, halted and turned. ¡°Honoria. Keep going, all of you,¡± Halie said. Facing the smoke, she held out her hands. Bright white orbs appeared over each hand, moments before she flung them at the smoke. Three more times Halie did this, but Ziri still ran, and turned a corner before Edana could see the outcome. The next thing she knew, they were back in the courtyard where she¡¯d first met Honoria. Ziri¡¯s sharp whistle pierced Edana¡¯s ear. Four heartbeats later came the screeches. Gryphons, she saw them when she turned her head. The beasts galloped over to them. Ziri set Edana aside on the closest one, then jumped on behind her. ¡°Fly!¡± The gryphon took flight. Edana looked down, and saw Bessa and Lady Nensela mounting their own gryphons. Something else was happening as well: an abyss opening up in the east wing of the house, where the tower was. Everything in its radius vanished in a violent swirl of wind. Her eyes widened. What was this about? Nevermind. Her friends were safe. Exhausted, Edana rested her head against Ziri¡¯s chest and closed her eyes. Once again she thanked the Sower, before sleep claimed her.
When Edana awakened, sunlight warmed her face. Soft blankets formed a warm and gentle cocoon around her. The fragrance of roses and vervain lingered on the pillows and sheets. As well, the faint, minty scent of hyssop clung to her hair and skin, telling her that someone had given her a purifying bath. Such kindness brought a smile to her lips. She opened her eyes and sat up. Someone had clothed her in a simple white chiton. To her left, a domed lid covered a platter on the table next to the bed. A silver pitcher stood next to it, along with two cups. The first cup was empty, the second contained dried tablets made of myrrh, ground up lilies, and other fragrant plants. She scooped one out, then chewed on it until her mouth felt clean. Lifting the dome revealed bread and cheese and fruits. Little bowls contained her favorite spreads, including a rich cream with a sweet, nutty taste, and a syrup made from honey and roses to drizzle over her fruit. The centerpiece plate featured a dollop of morels, imported from Sir?nasse and cooked in wine and seasoned with pepper. A small power scepter kept the plate warm. The jug turned out to hold a cool drink, an elderflower cordial mixed with lemon and rose water, and sweetened with honey. Edana smiled. Clearly, someone meant to spoil and pamper her. She drank heartily, then set to work on the platter. Sated at last, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Below, on the floor, a pair of house sandals awaited her. However, she focused on her feet, which peeked from below the hem of her gown. For a long while she stared at her feet, then flexed them and wiggled her toes. That was when it hit her. A geysar of emotions erupted inside her, and to her own astonishment she began to cry. Silently her tears flowed, then small gasps and sobs escaped her lips. Edana crashed back down on her bed and smothered her face in her pillows. Grief, terror, anger, all of it poured out in wave after wave so intense she felt as if she would die. But she did not die. She was alive. In spite of everything, everything¡ªshe was alive. The unspeakable horrors she had endured! Yet still she lived. Yet still. And the future¡ªEdana took a shuddering breath and her trembling ceased. For a long while she lay on her bed, surrounded by the evidence that she was cared for and had much reason to rejoice in her life. A smile came to her face, and she wiped away the last of her tears. ¡°Thank you, Great Sower,¡± she whispered. Silvery trills of birdsong drew her gaze upward. A lark eyed her from its perch on the windowsill. ¡°Good morning to you, too,¡± Edana replied. Now she looked around. Wherever she was the walls were timber, not stucco or marble. What the room lacked in frescoes and mosaics it more than made up for in coziness. This was a safe place, and she imagined remaining in it forever. Then she remembered, and she slid off the bed, slipping her feet into the sandals. A green linen shawl was folded at the foot of the bed. She wrapped it tightly about herself, then stepped outside. The sound of cheery voices served as her guide, bringing her to a courtyard-turned-banquet room. Sunlight shone on Bessa¡¯s coppery tresses, making her the first person Edana spotted. With her back to the door, Bessa didn¡¯t see her. Next to her sat Lady Nensela, and across from their couch Ziri reclined with Leo and Halie. As she drew closer Edana saw them enjoying a pile of what she called ¡°fancy bread¡±: crustless bread torn into bite-sized morsels, soaked in milk, and fried in olive oil. Usually when the Nuriel¡¯s cook had prepared fancy bread she served it to Edana¡¯s family with plain honey. But here in this cozy home, several diners sprinkled theirs with fresh berries, pomegranate molasses, or the rose syrup Edana had enjoyed earlier. Ahh, so she was not the only late riser. As if sensing her presence, Bessa turned. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re up! How are you feeling? Join us.¡± As one Lady Nensela and Bessa rose, and hugged her in their turn while the others cheered. Never one to seek attention, Edana blushed and averted her eyes, then took her place between her friends. ¡°Thank you all for rescuing me,¡± she said. ¡°I know it was a great risk, and I shall not forget it.¡± ¡°You¡¯re my sister, and Lady Nensela¡¯s friend, and you¡¯re a Star Dragon to boot: leaving you in Erebossi hands was not an option for any of us,¡± Bessa replied. The others heartily concurred. ¡°Since we¡¯re all here, perhaps now you can share what you learned?¡± Ziri suggested, looking straight at Lady Nensela. A servant placed a plate in front of Edana, but she waved him off. Under the table Bessa found her hand and squeezed it. Edana squeezed back. ¡°Before we start, let¡¯s make sure everyone is on the same line of the scroll. Or excuse me, the same page in the codex,¡± Lady Nensela said. In turns they went over the events of the previous day and what discoveries they made. This led to formally introducing Halie to Edana, which left Edana bemused. Finally, Ziri came to the part concerning the second team which accompanied them to Honoria¡¯s. ¡°The most promising item they found is also the most troublesome: a document similar to the one we found in Gallo¡¯s office. It¡¯s using an infernal code. Literally infernal, so ah, deciphering it won¡¯t be easy.¡± When they finally came to the part where Bessa and Lady Nensela went to the oraculum, Ziri leaned forward, his cup poised in midair. Lady Nensela placed her hand over Edana¡¯s. ¡°Thus far, the giants have attacked farmers, then escalated to Bessa¡¯s family, before at last attacking a fortress. By Murena¡¯s command Her Grace, Halie, was abducted, and by his command the Red Daggers sought you. A trap. You were to serve as lure to entice me into the snare. This I learned when Gallo took you.¡± ¡°But why did you come to rescue me? If Murena¡¯s plan to possess me had worked, there¡¯s no doubt his first act would be to kill you. Then we would all be lost. This Aeternity War would be over before we even understand what it is.¡± Lady Nensela inhaled and exhaled, a breathing exercise Edana saw her use before. Finally she said, ¡°You know what a broken heart feels like. The only reason I sought Kyanopolis was because the city holds no memories to haunt me. No one here knew my family; no one here knows of my sorrows. A perfect place to be a recluse. But then you came running into that outpost. I lost my daughter. You lost your parents. I felt our threads twine.¡± Edana started to speak, but Lady Nensela squeezed her hand. ¡°Shattered though you were, you put your life back together. Through your grief you showed grace and kindness to others, and fortitude and resourcefulness for yourself. Others I knew with such virtues did not live to reap the joys they cultivated. The prince of Amathis was one such; he chose to die with his people rather than face the pain of abandoning his family. You chose life, and I vowed I would walk into Erebossa itself to keep Murena from reaping you.¡± Long inhale, long exhale. At the portal when Gallo took Edana, a vision came to Lady Nensela. A vision of how to turn Murena¡¯s scheme against him. All that stood between her and success was a prophecy trap. ¡°I saw many threads, but only one good outcome. That outcome depended on all of you being true to yourselves. You, Bessa, would stay true to your friendship and bring along Sorcha¡¯s Tear. Ziri would stay true to his experience, and forbid Bessa and me from participating directly in your rescue.¡± And Edana would stay true to the Great Speaker. ¡°The Infernal Ones know our weaknesses and desires, but I had faith in your piousness. Whatever means Honoria might use to persuade or coerce you would not overcome your knowledge that she is a born deceiver. This I believed of you; my plan rested on your virtue.¡± ¡°I heard Lady Halie say the Erebossan needed for me to sacrifice Gallo,¡± Edana said slowly. ¡°If she wanted Murena to possess Gallo, isn¡¯t that proof they don¡¯t have their own bodies? If she and Murena are really eidolons, then does that mean there was once a person named Honoria? One who fell to possession?¡± Horror washed over Edana. Did she murder an innocent victim in her fury? Edana¡¯s emotions were plain upon her face, and Halie looked sympathetic when she replied, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Edana. I don¡¯t know if Honoria occupied a willing hostess or not. But it¡¯s unlikely anyone caught up on that side was innocent.¡± ¡°But how do you know she wasn¡¯t kidnapped, or threatened as I was threatened? Honoria expected me to be desperate to be restored, what if her hostess was also desperate? Can you expel a Sleepless Enemy from someone without killing them?¡± Edana pursued. ¡°I could have, if she were alive,¡± Halie said. ¡°But I sensed no human spirit within the body of this Honoria. Perhaps she was the kind of eidolon that is merely a facsimile of a real person, but even if the body were a true body, there was nothing to save. The only reason I forbid killing an eidolon¡¯s ¡®body¡¯ is to prevent the abyssal spirit from occupying another host. In this matter, the previous owner is already past saving.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± Edana murmured. Outwardly she remained calm. Inside, her stomach churned as she absorbed the revelation that even sans a body, an eidolon could still be a threat on this side of Erebossa. Clearly, she must consult a priest before she tangled with such creatures again. By what means might she prevail against them? An image of Honoria flashed before her eyes, of Honoria backing away. At the time, wrath and hatred had consumed her so utterly that she missed what prompted Honoria to flee her presence: reciting the Sayings against her. Simple, but it made sense. Yet it seemed too small a thing for Lady Nensela to plan around. If Edana had faltered ¡­ shudders rippled up and down her spine. Lady Nensela continued. While Edana, the Star Dragons, and Bessa were bound by their natures, Honoria was bound by time. Last night was truly the best time to summon Murena: in the third hour past midnight Amyntas, the third wandering star, reached its zenith. ¡°But Amyntas protects the innocent, and He is in the Seeker¡¯s Alliance, and I am a Seeker¡¯s Own.¡± Nensela¡¯s lips curved. ¡°Sorcha, too, is an Ally, and Bessa carries Her tear. On that night, at that time, and in the oraculum, I could call upon the Seeker¡¯s power: I asked to see where Murena would next manifest. At my request Bessa had retrieved the keystone from Edana¡¯s apartments in my house, and this, too, served my purposes.¡± They all leaned forward now. ¡°Between the Reaper¡¯s moon and the winter solstice, we must meet Murena in the east. There will be a battle, but not the one I foresaw in my vision. But if we lose this one, there will be no hope of winning that one. Murena will have his remaining servants with him, the remaining Four we know about: Erebossi who pose as humans. And there will be giants. Many, many giants.¡± Chapter 29: Evil Tidings III Unleashed Fury XXIX Evil Tidings In which they discover the enemy¡¯s plans In all the nations of Rasena Valentis every land was at peace, suffering no further attacks from the giants. Were they encircled in the eye of the storm? To discuss the matter, Lady Nensela brought Edana and Bessa to meet with Ziri a week after the events in Karnassus. They gathered on the Jolly Sylph, a company ship of the Star Dragons; a place where no enemy might overhear their council. Even the slaves served as agents. Nearly two hundred feet long, the impressive cargo ship included a few luxurious cabins below deck for important guests. In one such cabin Ziri hosted them, with Halie and Leo sitting in. Unlike other cabins, this one was clearly more of a strategy room, emphasized by the long table dominating the center of the room. Viridian-green tiles made up its top, and the tiles themselves were painted with a road map of Rasena Valentis and Anshan. Fascinated, Bessa circled the table, silently taking note of miniature flags stuck in wax by certain cities. Flags for Red Pointe, Karnassus, the Aerie, and more. Oh, and a flag where Falcon¡¯s Hollow might be in the mid-route between Red Pointe and White Cliff: Places where giants attacked, or where Duke Gagnon¡¯s allies operated. Edana, she observed, lightly traced the roads leading from Kyanopolis to Eitan. Settled at the head of the table, Lady Nensela reclined in a throne-like armchair. Appropriately enough, the chair¡¯s head was carved with the face and wings of a sphinx. Legends said the chimerical beasts with the heads of women, wings of eagles, and bodies of lions came from Ta-Seti, though they were more famously used in monuments in Athyr-ai. Plated in gold, the chair¡¯s legs and arms were stylized to resemble the sphinxes¡¯ lion limbs. Below the sphinx¡¯s head, Lady Nensela appeared no less inscrutable as she looked over the group. ¡°Speak to us, Ziri, of my brethren.¡± After the attack on her conclave, Lady Nensela took care to not know the safeholds of her fellow prophets. That which she did not know, was that which she could not be made to speak. All the same, she did keep abreast of whether the other prophets were safeguarded; a report she obliged Ziri to give to her regularly. Not once did the master arcanus sit. Instead he paced up and down, alongside a wall with a tapestry depicting a nymphaeum, a shrine built around a sacred naiad spring. Occasionally, he took a long drink from a fancy glass cage cup. The cup turned red or green according to the angle of light passing through it. Kyane and her swans made up the cutwork of the cage portion. Still pacing, Ziri informed them that shortly before their rescue mission to Honoria¡¯s, Lord Senet had successfully set a trap for four Red Daggers seeking to abduct him. Further, someone threw a fireball at the estate where Lady Justinia was staying. ¡°I¡¯ve had them all moved to a safer place,¡± Ziri assured her. More on the matter he did not say, in accordance with Lady Nensela¡¯s rule. She accepted this claim with a small nod. ¡°This is the calm before the storm,¡± she said. ¡°In this matter, let us believe what Honoria told Edana, that our actions have forced the giants to change their plans. Too little do we know of what those plans are. Let us see what we might divine, by examining their actions thus far.¡± ¡°On that matter I think I have something,¡± Edana said, reaching into a leather purse she openly kept slung at her waist, unlike the star silk kibisis she kept hidden beneath her skirts. ¡°Have you seen anything like this, Ziri?¡± She placed a folded square of parchment on the table, and spread it out so they could all see it. The men joined Bessa and Lady Nensela at the table, gathering around to stare intently at Edana¡¯s drawing. In sepia ink Edana had drawn a strange set of portraits, grouped as a hexagon around a central circle Bessa puzzled over. Then her eye caught the morvarc¡¯h inside the portrait in the upper left portion of the hexagon and her heart skipped a beat. ¡°Isn¡¯t this the fire-breathing horse we saw on the seal at the Rhabdo? The one slain by ¡®Dagomarus the Bold¡¯?¡± At Edana¡¯s confirmation Ziri narrowed his eyes and said, ¡°The Rhabdo. A legitimate target for an enemy, more so than unarmed farmers the giants have been attacking. But I don¡¯t see a wolf here for the Lyceum.¡± ¡°Which underscores their disinterest in engaging with the legions. Their disregard for the elite military school of Rasena Valentis strikes me as both contempt and a threat. They want us to know we are no match for them,¡± Lady Nensela said. Waves of trepidation washed over Bessa when she considered what the giants had done to Red Pointe. While the legion officers who graduated from the Lyceum were called the Iron Wolves, they were called so by other men. Flesh-and-blood opponents who fought them with swords and shields of their own. Against lightning and Erebossi what use were either? However, Edana vigorously shook her head. ¡°Perhaps, especially since we are ¡®motes¡¯ to them. Take a look at what¡¯s in this seal: the kraken, the winged tiger, the falling stars, the dragon, and the sphinx. All fearsome in their way. In your vision, didn¡¯t the giants set the sky on fire and shake the ground? Maybe the sky will burn because the giants can call down stars to annihilate us. Like the Night of the Falling Stars, but worse because maybe it will happen for more than three days and nights.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t the Night of the Falling Stars unleash the Third Cataclysm? Oh by the gods, could the giants really cause a fifth Cataclysm?¡± Bessa visibly shuddered. ¡°Exactly what I¡¯m getting at,¡± Edana agreed. ¡°I think this six-around-one seal is meant to be a threat: these are the horrors they will unleash on us. We¡¯ve focused on the Erebossi for obvious reasons, but all of these threats are either right here on our world, or can directly threaten us.¡± Bessa tapped the central portrait inside the hexagon, which showed six individual claws arranged in a circle. ¡°And it looks like the Erebossi are accounted for, if you take these claws into consideration.¡± She paused, and her blood ran cold. ¡°We¡¯re besieged. In the living world, and by the shadow world, we are besieged.¡± Without a word Edana clasped Bessa¡¯s shoulder, steadying her as she had done when they were children. In turn Bessa placed her free hand over Edana¡¯s, and tried to keep calm. What were they to do with such enemies surrounding them? Even Leo, the cocky young sorcerer, was staring off into the middle distance. He shuffled over to a table where Ziri¡¯s slaves had set up refreshments. Then her gaze landed on Halie, who sat serenely on a luxuriant bench in the center of the room. The Sea Lord¡¯s daughter. Proof¡ªby the gods, let it be so!¡ªthat the gods had taken notice of their situation and felt compassion for them. But compassion alone could not be the reason for Halie¡¯s presence. The demigoddess was not precisely suited for the role of a shoulder to cry on, to give pats on the back and make soothing noises. However, before Bessa could formulate her question Ziri spoke up. ¡°With respect to those flesh-and-blood threats, something is brewing. And it¡¯s not confined to Rasena Valentis. I¡¯ve dispatched people to Lyrcania to investigate certain reports,¡± he said. ¡°Lyrcania? Just how widespread is this?¡± Bessa asked. On the map, letters scrolled across Anshan¡¯s easternmost border spelled out Ghandar. A vast land made up of several kingdoms, Ghandar was a good eight or nine months away from Kyanopolis by road. Lyrcania, she knew, was still an ocean away from Ghandar, across the Gold Sea. ¡°The whole of the world is my guess, with Lyrcania involved,¡± Ziri answered. ¡°Your Grace¡ªLady Nensela¡ªyou thought the dryads were unscathed, but what I¡¯m hearing about Lyrcania suggests otherwise. At this time saying more will be premature. But count it a factor for now.¡± ¡°That I will. What of the Fire Lords?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s come back to them,¡± Ziri said. ¡°Right now I¡¯ve been concerned with the Presence, as Cingetissa called it. Or the Interceptor as Her Grace, Halie, calls it. Either name, we have a problem.¡± Upon Bessa¡¯s arrival to the meeting she gave Halie a codex of Pelasgian folktales. Intrigued, Halie had retired to the bench and began perusing the tales. With childlike delight she had caressed the spine of the volume, and its parchment pages. At the mention of her name; however, she snapped the codex shut, all business. ¡°Brace yourself for evil tidings: The night we went after Honoria the Presence moved,¡± Ziri said. ¡°Previously reports were that the Presence was passive: watching, observing. Hence ¡®the Presence.¡¯ Now? A Restorite in my service grew suspicious of an illness in the town where he was visiting. Aristides was trying to talk to the spirits to point him in the right direction, when he saw something. In two beats of his heart, he perceived a malevolent force reaching out to snatch him. He struggled to barely pull back in time. Now he won¡¯t risk talking to the spirits again.¡± ¡°But he¡¯s a Restorite. Why does he need the spirits at all?¡± Edana asked. ¡°How I understood it was that Oathtakers call upon the¡ªNasiru?¡ªto do what they need to. A Restorite calls upon the Restorer, the corrans call upon the Reaper. Or are you saying he was cut off from the Restorer? Cingestissa said she needed the spirits to scry the keystone, because it was beyond her ken as a reaper. Otherwise, I thought only illusions, enchantments, and shadow powers required assistance from spirits and fellshades...or blood spells for compulsions.¡± ¡°Oathtakers need the spirits, too,¡± Bessa corrected her. ¡°Let¡¯s say someone poisoned you to weaken your heart or something. You feel weak and exhausted, so you go to Papouli¡ªwell, someone like him¡ªto make you less lethargic. But you see the problem, right, if Papouli took your symptoms at face value and didn¡¯t look deeper?¡± Edana inhaled sharply. ¡°Ah. So the spirits alert him to the root cause? And he was wise, your papouli, so he learned to correlate symptoms with their causes.¡± ¡°Papouli said every home or family has a guardian spirit, and those are the ones he called upon. Like Cingetissa did for the keystone; so they aren¡¯t breaking any oaths about Erebossa. Unfortunately, it¡¯s easy for the symptoms of one malady to mimic the symptoms of a different malady. The Great Winter Plague that killed my father acted like that. For the first three days the Plague looked precisely like your standard winter sickness. Only on the fourth day do the blisters show up on the limbs of the victims. And by then¡­well, Papouli never forgave himself. In his defense, he¡¯d never seen anything like that plague before.¡± At this Halie stood up and strode over to the table, joining them at last. ¡°The bold and potent interdiction of the Interceptor has made your sorcerers cry out. To my Father. To my Grandmother. To all of the Nasiru they cry out, and all of them in their turn receive only silence. Or so they think. This strategy I understand: if the sorcerers think they have been abandoned, they will turn to someone who gives them answers. Who gives them back their power. You must beware of new priesthoods arising.¡± Bessa thought again about the play she must write. In addition to giants, human traitors and eidolons, she must now add false priests to her list of warnings to dramatize? ¡°New priesthoods. And a new god, no doubt? Do you have a name for this so-called god?¡± The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Glittering golden eyes fastened on to her, and Bessa thought fleetingly of Lady Aelia. ¡°The name of this false goddess is not yet known to me. However¡ªher followers call her ¡®the Greatest One.¡¯ In her service they will do strange and terrible things. Beware.¡± Silence. Above their heads, footsteps clumped against the decks. Occasionally, a deck hand¡¯s shout rose above the fray and floated down to them. Outside, waves lapped against the sides of the Jolly Sylph. All looked calm on the sea itself, or so the portholes suggested. After a while, Edana said what they were thinking. ¡°Someone is reaping the healers from the field of battle. Is Aristides certain this strange illness truly is a plague?¡± ¡°For now, the answer is yes,¡± Ziri said. ¡°Especially as it ties in to the naiads and their springs. Any healer worth his salt has sacred spring water on hand. An amphora¡¯s worth at most. But who has enough for an entire village of sick people, or an entire city? Or legion? Very few, I¡¯d wager, which means a lot of people will make a run for those springs.¡± Edana tapped a nymphaeum icon on the map. ¡°Routes to sacred naiad springs would make the victims prime targets for ambushes.¡± ¡°Along with whatever other torments the abyssals throw at us,¡± Ziri agreed. Shadowed eyes betrayed his lack of sleep. Flecks of white in his auburn sideburns emphasized the gravity of their situation; Bessa was sure he did not have those flecks when she first met him. The master arcanus said, ¡°There is something else I would wager: when plague victims come to the springs, they will somehow corrupt those springs. According to one, ah, source, the naiads themselves are already under attack. The attack is more subtle than the Red Daggers have shown themselves to be, so I don¡¯t think it¡¯s them.¡± ¡°What sort of attack? Who is your source?¡± Edana asked. ¡°My grandmother.¡± ¡°Your grandmother.¡± Ziri shifted his weight a little. ¡°Well. I don¡¯t like to tell people this, but¡­¡± ¡°She¡¯s a naiad,¡± Lady Nensela said. Ziri¡¯s mouth scrunched. ¡°How did you know?¡± ¡°Oh, Ziri. You did not suppose chance or desperation alone led me to you, did you? My sources informed me of your ability to dive into depths pearl divers would envy. As well, they reported your particular use of water to teleport at will. Add this in with your unusually fast recovery when you¡¯re injured or sick, and only an abominable oaf would fail to draw the logical conclusion concerning you.¡± The seer¡¯s impish smile took the sting out of her words; the others laughed. ¡°Why keep your grandmother a secret?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°Do the Adamanteans have a taboo about mixing with anyone inhuman?¡± ¡°Against naiads, no. In my tribe people practically deify you if they know you¡¯ve got naiad blood. Old women harry you to marry their daughters, and old lords scheme of dynasties: the blood of naiads carries longevity. And other blessings. Let¡¯s just say I have better things to do with mine.¡± ¡°Very noble of you, boss,¡± Leo said. For a brief moment, mischief brightened his face. Ziri eyed him. Unabashed, Leo poured more wine into Ziri¡¯s cage cup. Getting back to business Lady Nensela said, ¡°So, if your grandmother senses this, let¡¯s take it as fact and plan accordingly. What does she say is happening to the naiads?¡± With the power to lay hands on the sick, itinerant naiads freely healed people they encountered on their travels, or anointed worthy humans into the ranks of the Restorite priesthood. Never were the nymphs compelled to remain close by their sacred springs. Until now. For the past year, the naiads sensed a loss of their own powers the further they traveled from their springs. Worse, the springs themselves had weakened. Merely drinking from the spring was sufficient in times past to heal even the worst injuries, including restoring lost limbs. But for the past several months immersion in the spring was required, and sometimes the naiads were obliged to directly heal the pilgrims themselves. Only on the previous year¡¯s summer solstice, and the days immediately before and after, did the springs behave as they ought to. ¡°In light of what¡¯s been happening, I don¡¯t think this is a coincidence,¡± Ziri concluded. Lady Nensela tented her fingers, shut her eyes, and leaned back against the chair. ¡°So. Thus far, the giants have escalated their attacks. Without Lady Aelia¡¯s Salamandran acid, Red Pointe would have fallen to what amounts to less than a centurion¡¯s band of giants, not even fifty. As Salamandra do not live in large numbers in Rasena Valentis, this may account for why we have no reports of giants in Anshan, where there is said to be a sizeable population of Salamandra. ¡°Second, from Honoria¡¯s lips we have confirmation that Valentis was meant to fall victim to Escamilla¡¯s infernal stratagems. Thanks to Gagnon we knew to beware of him. Another eidolon, Justin Kellis, is a librarian at the Library of Karnassus. In Athyr-ai, which frightens me so. Thousands of years of knowledge stored in those tomes, written before most people wrote anything. What might he destroy?¡± Lady Nensela shuddered, a show of emotion that startled the other humans. Then Bessa thought of Lady Nensela¡¯s library, and how many Dark Ages the seer may have lived through, of the knowledge she had seen destroyed and lost. No wonder that out of the Five, she specifically wished to kill Justin Kellis. ¡°And Rozvan Lior must not be forgotten,¡± Halie hissed. ¡°He who made the net that bound me when the Red Daggers captured me. I have a special fate in store for him.¡± Halie¡¯s claws, previously retracted to pass for human nails, extended now into formidable sickles. Edana clasped a hand over her mouth but Bessa shrieked, startled and horrified. ¡°Am I ever so glad you¡¯re on our side,¡± Leo said after a long moment. He and Ziri stood closest to Halie¡ªin arm¡¯s reach, in fact. Frozen, Ziri held his cup in mid air. Then he slowly nodded in agreement. ¡°But I am not on your side,¡± Halie corrected. She retracted her claws, leaving them only a trifle long like a noblewoman¡¯s. ¡°I am here to do the bidding of my Father. It happens we are aligned, but were we not, I would not remain in your company.¡± ¡°Um. Still, though.¡± Leo took a long gulp of wine. ¡°The point is, we don¡¯t need to count you as an enemy. You¡¯re on Team Hero.¡± She canted her head at him. ¡°Heroes are what you call the people who fight monsters and protect others from them? So let us be!¡± Her childlike glee elicited nervous laughter from the younger humans; Ziri and Lady Nensela eyed her with interest. ¡°For now I¡¯m still considering that someone is determined to force the gods back to Thuraia,¡± Lady Nensela said. ¡°What details can you pass to us regarding this Aeternity War, Halie?¡± Halie joined the women at the map table. ¡°Your guess concerning the Nasiru worries me. My mother traveled to my father¡¯s domain, not the other way around, but I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s significant.¡± She ran her fingers along the blue-green border of the map, which represented the sea. ¡°What is significant is the reason why I was conceived: two years ago, my brothers fought a fierce battle in the depths of the sea.¡± Powerful forces from Erebossa had attempted an invasion, Halie said. Eldritch creatures nearly overwhelmed the sea dragons, but the dragons managed to fight them to a standstill. In desperation, they summoned their patriarch¡ªthe firstborn of the sea dragons. It was he who drove the invaders back to Erebossa. But he was severely weakened by the battle. Time did not return his strength to him, even two years later. ¡°Two years ago,¡± Lady Nensela said quietly. ¡°Below us, in depths unseen.¡± An unsettling revelation. ¡°There¡¯s more,¡± Ziri said. ¡°Not about the sea battle, but the battle above ground.Return your attention now to Ursinus Naevius Escamilla.¡± Edana stiffened. ¡°The Red Daggers killed Amelu because Escamilla sent them.¡± ¡°Which I let my legate in Valentis know. Amelu reported to him. My legate put a band together to trap Escamilla, but Escamilla is gone. Officially, the Watch says he deserted his post. Unofficially, I think the eidolon animating him usurped another body. A body currently unknown to us. Beware.¡± ¡°Your Grace? Can you sense if a particular fellshade is possessing a body?¡± Edana turned to Halie. ¡°Yes, and so I will search out if this Escamilla is still on Thuraia.¡± ¡°Thank you, Your Grace,¡± Ziri said. ¡°But you can¡¯t be everywhere at once, and it looks like your brothers are hemmed in for the moment. We have to start planning what to do if the sea dragons, the dryads, the naiads, and the sorcerers are taken down. They may be the servants the giants keep referring to, unless they¡¯re talking about the gods. Edana?¡± Edana¡¯s expression had caught his attention. After a slight hesitation she said, ¡°For my part, the Nasiru are servants. Not gods, but celestial beings who serve the Speaker in designated capacities.¡± Ziri¡¯s eyes flashed. He started to say something, but broke off in surprise when he saw Halie nodding. ¡°The Nasiru were appointed to serve as celestial guardians for this world, Thuraia,¡± she said. ¡°Appointed by whom? The Sower?¡± Ziri used the Rasena Valentian epithet for the Great Speaker. ¡°It did not occur to me it could be otherwise, so I did not ask.¡± ¡°Discount not the possibility of the Sower,¡± Lady Nensela warned. ¡°I lived for some time in Eitan.¡± ¡°Honoria fled from me when I spoke His Sayings against her,¡± Edana pointed out. Her eyes became unfocused. Only Ziri and Leo looked perturbed by the idea, but Ziri rallied and said, ¡°Let¡¯s assume Lady Nensela¡¯s instincts and the giants¡¯ chants are congruent in meaning. Some way or other the giants intend to strike at our pantheon. How does what has happened so far contribute to that goal?¡± The question set them all to thinking, and they lapsed into silence again. Venturing to answer, Bessa said aloud, ¡°Well, one plan they likely changed was attacking Red Pointe. Granted, I don¡¯t pay much attention to this sort of thing, but Red Pointe wasn¡¯t a ¡®high-prestige¡¯ target. Destroying it carries no glory; the giants only attacked because Gagnon summoned them to make good his escape. On our way there, Edana thought Gagnon intended to lay his actions at Tarkhana¡¯s feet. Then she found the speech Gagnon wrote, where he did do exactly that. What if Gagnon meant to destroy some place like the Aerie, and painted Tarkhana as complicit or negligent?¡± ¡°Yessss,¡± Ziri drew out the word. ¡°Everyone Tarkhana sent to investigate the giants¡¯ attack on the Cloudwalk village disappeared. This you can lay at Gagnon¡¯s feet; his Red Dagger lackeys acted on his orders. Sowing discontent against Tarkhana, as well as fear for how poorly he might protect everyone from the giants. And Gagnon was supposed to visit another fortress next month. A fortress that happens to be near an aqueduct that supplies water to Valentis.¡± Glancing at Lady Nensela Bessa added, ¡°What I can see is how the giants¡¯ actions affect matters politically. What I can¡¯t see is why the gods should directly return to Thuraia over what the giants are doing. Yet Claudius said Gallo expected an end to the prophets.¡± ¡°A vexing question,¡± Lady Nensela agreed. ¡°Speak to us now, Ziri, of the Fire Lords.¡± ¡°My legate in Karnassus made inquiries. The Salamandra community there is small, but helpful.¡± He met Nensela¡¯s eyes and dryly added, ¡°You¡¯ll be shocked to know they advise us to speak to the Fire Lords of Elamis, in Anshan. I¡¯ve dispatched arcana to go there.¡± ¡°As you say; though I suspect we will need to journey there ourselves.¡± ¡°We cannot open a new front, or travel to the east, with the Four loose behind us. So let¡¯s consider a plan of attack,¡± Ziri pointed out. ¡°To that end, I think we have one already,¡± Lady Nensela said. Thus she spoke of the plan she made with Bessa and Edana, to have Bessa write a play aimed at the ones they now knew to be the Four. The play would emphasize how to fight the giants and face the eidolons, and alert people to the presence of both in Rasena Valentis. For the rest of the evening they fleshed out the details. Before the meeting broke up, Ziri took Bessa aside. ¡°Are you ready to do your part in this?¡± Hoping the churning in her stomach wasn¡¯t visible on her face she said, ¡°I will not fail.¡± For the first time some semblance of youth returned to the spymaster¡¯s features. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think you will. Not after what you¡¯ve done so far.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± She took a deep breath. In times past she met vital challenges by reminding herself of her lineage: her grandparents defeated the Furi, her father overcame the catoblepus, and her uncle Morivassus destroyed pirate fleets. With their blood in her veins, she did not have it in her to fail, or be found wanting when a trial came. But now, as Ziri reminded her, she had her own victories to call to remembrance. And in this matter, where the stakes were high, what she must do now was far less dangerous than what she had done before. So, it served her little to waste energy fretting over whether she could handle her task. All that was left was for her to get it done. Chapter 30: Sacred Boons XXX Sacred Boons In which a new Star Dragon is born ¡°Step forward, Edana, daughter of Min¡¯da Nuriel,¡± Ziri intoned. His voice reverberated off walls of rose quartz. Walls which enclosed a majestic ceremonial chamber inside the rotunda at Caelestis, the secret fortress of the Star Dragons. Ziri waited for her on a dais in the center of the chamber. Two men flanked him, dressed identically to him in cream colored robes woven through with gold thread in patterns that intimated serpentine swirls. Chrysoprase amulets carved into golden eagles around their throats marked the other two men as venatori priests. The tap tap tap of her sandals against the quartz floor punctuated Edana¡¯s approach to the dais. Stopping before it, Edana acknowledged the venatori with a careful nod. Both men were strangers to her, a reminder she hadn¡¯t even seen a tenth of Ziri¡¯s Kyanopolis division. Yet. ¡°Do you agree to enter the Covenant of Pha?nna?¡± Ziri asked her. ¡°I do.¡± ¡°Do you agree in the name of the Speaker to uphold our vows of honor, courage, and fidelity to the ways of Light over Shadow?¡± They had discussed this next part beforehand; Edana was adamant about changing it. Part of her thought Ziri might not go along with it, but to her surprise, he relented. She therefore answered in keeping with her conscience. ¡°Subordinate only to the Sayings of the Speaker, I do. Let Him yield my soul to the Abyssal Serpent if I betray the way of Light and forsake my vows.¡± ¡°Come forward,¡± commanded the huntsman on the left. Three steps separated her from the dais. On the first a strange sensation enveloped her body. On the second she felt as if she were submersed in a refreshing spring. The feeling persisted on the third step, but when she gained the dais she froze in place. Heat washed over her, then vanished as a cool breath raised the hairs on her neck. Whispering in her ear was a voice, ancient and deep. ?Let us meet, sister.? Light, shimmering and golden, swirled over her. Light wedded to an overwhelming sense of peace and fellowship. Riding it was a presence¡ªnot the menacing one the sorcerers alluded to¡ªbut a presence all the same. ?Fear not, for you walk with the guardian of the Star Dragons. Pha?nna, I am called, in the tongues of your race.? Guardian spirit? Before she could ponder the matter, a slight tug at her own spirit transported her. Beneath her feet now were vibrant golden buttercups and snow white anemone, flowers she used to pluck as a child in the meadows of Falcon¡¯s Hollow. White and gold, colors repeated in the lilies and gorse, meadowsweet and roses that made up the lush garden in which she now stood. Inhaling deeply, Edana savored the sweet perfume the flowers exuded. How luxuriant this garden was! Walls enclosed the garden. Enameled white bricks covered in rose vines, the walls were higher than she was tall. Doors punctuated the walls at regular intervals. Some stood wide open, others were open ajar, and a few were closed entirely. What lay beyond them? To her delight, another childhood pleasure occupied the garden: violet butterflies flitted about. No¡ªthey circled her. Once, twice, three times, then off they went toward the center of the garden. Venturing forward, she managed only a few steps before she halted. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight before her. In the center of the garden a magnificent golden dragon rested on its haunches. Gleaming scales complemented a rich creamy belly and matching cream-colored wings. Sinuous, curving, the dragon¡¯s spine arched back. As did its neck, for its head tilted up, facing an unseen sun that covered it in a glimmering halo. Silent, cautious, Edana stared at the fabulous beast. In the back of her mind she was surprised she was still upright, for she¡¯d always imagined she would faint on the spot if she saw a dragon, let alone stood in its presence. However, in this moment, in this place, she did not believe the dragon to be an existential threat. This dragon was something more ¡­ holy? ?Perceptive,? said a voice in her mind. ?Pha?nna.? It was not a question. More of a confirmation of her hunch. ?I am she. Come closer.? Confident now, Edana strode forward. Yet though she felt no terror, mild apprehension governed her mind. A mighty being such as this would have no light purpose in conversing with her. For the first time, it occurred to her that joining the Star Dragons was no mere formality. Pha?nna herself might¡ªought to¡ªcare if a Star Dragon were worthy of the ranks she had created. And if Edana were not worthy? ?An apt question. What would you do if I deem you unfit to join my order?? Stopping a respectful distance from the dragon, Edana began to consider the question. Her ambitions in life did not include joining an order of arcana. The point of accepting Ziri¡¯s invitation was to obtain the protection and benefits the Star Dragons could offer, for the cause of fighting the giants and their allies. When the threat was over, she intended to return to her life¡ªif she lived. ?Holy one, I am not seeking to join your order for any but a pragmatic reason: to do my part in this war. Any boons you may offer I will joyfully decline, if you deem me unfit for using them for the purposes for which I wish to use them. Before, I was useful to your people because I was anonymous. But I no longer bring this to the table. Nor any remarkable talents; all I possess are tested virtues: Perseverance, steadfastness, devotion. And I strive to be honorable. I am¡ª? Here she paused. The butterflies fluttered about the dragon¡¯s head, as though crowning her. For a long moment Edana focused on them as she chose her words with care. Then she swallowed hard, and met the dragon¡¯s eye. Dragons were said to be especially sharp of sight. And this star dragon, did she not see with sight beyond sight? Nothing could be hidden from her. Buoyed by this thought, Edana pressed on. ?Until recently I would have claimed to have courage. But I have learned better of myself. The courage to face a giant? That, I have. The courage to live my life, to risk heartbreak ¡­ that kind I lack. Lady Nensela showed me a vision of what might have been, had I possessed such valor: a husband and family of my own, a place I belong. O Mighty One, if I survive this war I will seek to live out that vision. Thus, I cannot offer to serve you until the end of my days. All I want is a chance to help others have days to live out ¡­ even if I cannot join them in that blessing.? The golden orb that was Pha?nna¡¯s eye moved slowly, back and forth, up and down, as if examining her. Then, suddenly, light flashed, and there came a golden mist. Rooted to the spot more in bemusement than surprise, Edana was still frozen in place when the mist cleared. Now before her stood a woman, tall and stately. In this form, Pha?nna¡ªfor it could only be Pha?nna¡ªrepeated her colors: luminous golden skin, and cream-colored hair in loose waves down her back. The short train on her glittering gown trailed behind her as she approached Edana. ¡°Are all dragons able to take human form?¡± Edana asked aloud. If so, what sort of dragon was Pha?nna? Pha?nna cocked her head. ¡°Only the sons of the Sea Lord can walk amongst you as men. But I am not made of flesh or blood: on a night many lifetimes ago I fell from the heavens, and here I have dwelt ever since.¡± Jolted, Edana gaped at her. Star Dragon. Star. Well. She would never look at the stars in the expanse the same way ever again. ¡°Come,¡± Pha?nna said, and surprised Edana by linking arms with her. The warmth of the celestial¡¯s proximity soothed Edana somehow, and her curiosity about the creature¡¯s intentions eclipsed her apprehension. Pha?nna led her to the nearest gate, which stood wide open. Beyond it lay a courtyard paved with blue-green tile. An artesian well in the center arrested her attention. Home. The courtyard had been in her true home, in Falcon¡¯s Hollow. This, then, is what the gates represented: Memories. As Edana watched, Pha?nna examined Edana¡¯s memories of different phases of her life. The first few doors contained unalloyed joy, with vignettes from Edana¡¯s childhood. Some memories the celestial examined, others she passed by. Then they came to the door. Massive bronze doors, fixed and unmovable. Unmovable by Edana¡¯s will, for she knew what lay beyond them, what she did not want to see again. ?Open the doors,? Pha?nna commanded. The celestial¡¯s arm was still locked with Edana¡¯s. Could she perceive Edana¡¯s pulse thundering in her veins? Or hear the galloping of her heart? ?Fear is not your mistress.? Reluctantly, Edana relented. Pha?nna was beginning to remind her of her mother¡ªexcept with the power to visit strange and unfathomable punishments upon her. The doors swung open. Arm in arm with Pha?nna, Edana stepped through. Once more she saw Mama impaled, once more she shied away from Mama¡¯s final fate. Quickly she shut her eyes, and turned her head for added measure. Pha?nna held her too tightly for her to turn her back entirely on the scene. No matter what, she would not allow herself to witness what the gryphon had done to Mama. Always she would remember Mama as the loving and vibrant woman she had been. However, the scent of blood, of viscera, of sweat and terror clogged her nostrils, and it was all she could do not to retch as she had on that cursed day. With her free hand Edana drew her sleeve across her nose. Blessedly, Pha?nna did not object to Edana clenching her eyes shut. Nevertheless, her next sally startled Edana so that she almost did open her eyes. ¡°In what you believed to be your final hours, you spent considerable time reviewing your what-ifs. Do you still believe you could have changed the outcome of events on this day in your life?¡± ¡°I am no fatalist,¡± Edana said. For once she did not attempt to conceal the tremor in her voice, or hide the tears pooling around her eyelashes. What point was there in hiding her feelings? Could not Pha?nna see through her fa?ade of strength? But Mama¡¯s cries of agony¡ªrage stirred in Edana¡¯s heart, at what her mother had suffered. And for nothing! For no reason she was ripped apart while she was alive. As though she were a beast. Allowed to be ripped apart, by a son-of-a-bitch who could have prevented it, were he not so depraved, so indifferent to the life of anyone other than himself. With some asperity Edana added, ¡°You know better than I the relationship of cause and effect. I believe I live in a world where actions have consequences, and I¡¯ve seen nothing to say otherwise. But I am young. What say you?¡± Fortunately, Pha?nna seemed inclined to overlook her impertinence. Rather she looked past Edana¡¯s words to her thoughts. ¡°Fa?ade, you say? As if strength lies in the abolition of emotion. If I did not know better I¡¯d say you were stoic. But I know better: you are mistaken. Foolish. Emotions are not weakness. Being ruled by emotion is weakness. Guarding your heart from those whose character is unknown to you is wise. Building a fortress around your heart so that none can enter is folly. Cowardice. Be discriminate. You possess the intellect, the wisdom, and the discretion to do so; therefore, I command you to do so. I will brook no excuses. Return now to the question of control.¡± Eyes still shut, Edana accepted the rebuke as she considered the question. ¡°There are some things I could control,¡± she said finally. ¡°My own behavior ¡­ which I regret was so petulant and uncharitable. If I had known those months were all I would ever have left with my parents ¡­!¡± Her voice shook. After a moment she composed herself and continued, ¡°But I couldn¡¯t control what happened to Mama, or to Papa. Not the attack. None of what happened was in my power to prevent.¡± ¡°Do you covet such power?¡± Now she saw the trap. ¡°People don¡¯t covet what they think they possess,¡± Edana pointed out. ¡°And until recently, I was arrogant enough to think I could control the fates of those I care for. I thought I could safeguard my loved ones by treating them as sheep, with me as their shepherdess to herd them to what I thought were safe places. But when shepherds fall, the sheep are left bare to the teeth of wolves. People are not sheep: They can be armed, and cooperate in their own defense. They can mount counterattacks; they can be guided by wise counsel. Had I not tried to ¡®protect¡¯ others from the knowledge of wolves at their door, I might have had their wise counsel on how best to fight those wolves.¡± ¡°Yet: if you could arrange things as you¡¯d wish?¡± The tone in Pha?nna¡¯s voice was soft, deadly. But Edana refused to be unnerved. How would it be to have the power to keep Mama from her awful fate? Mama, whose screams echoed so vividly in her ears just now. If she could keep Mama and Papa both from becoming food for beasts, what would it cost? But in her heart of hearts she already knew. A tear slid down her cheek. Grief rolled over her, in wave after wave. And for the first time she let herself be carried by it, burying her face in Pha?nna¡¯s arm as her tears flowed. To her shock, the creature embraced her, enveloping her in warmth. After a time¡ªhowever much time Edana could only guess¡ªshe finally found her voice again. Wiping her tears away she asked, ¡°Could I use this hypothetical power without subverting the will of my loved ones? No, I love them as they are, and I wouldn¡¯t make them less than they are. All the same ¡­ I beg of you not to tempt me. In some desperate hour of despair I can¡¯t swear I wouldn¡¯t use this ¡®fate-power¡¯ if I thought it would protect Bessa, or Lady Nensela, or anyone else.¡± This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. At that moment an image came to Edana¡¯s mind, of Lady Nensela in Fanuco¡¯s. Might Edana¡¯s own character, her own fears, be a trap in itself? A trap every bit as dangerous as the prophecy traps Lady Nensela navigated? Thus she added, ¡°There are forces at work here I don¡¯t fully understand in this Aeternity War. Offer me not the means to cross the will of the Sower, I beseech you.¡± The tug of her arm was the first indication that Pha?nna was moving. In fact, she was turning. Away from the horrific scene; Edana kept step with her as they returned to the garden. Only when she felt the glorious light on her face did Edana open her eyes again. Pha?nna¡¯s eyes were luminous in the sunlight. Warmth, compassion, these she allowed to show in her face as she regarded Edana. ¡°No tempter am I, child. I place no stumbling blocks in the way of the blind, nor do I dangle bread out of reach of a starving man. What I give to you I give because you do understand the nature of your world, and you reverence its Maker. Thus take freely this boon.¡± She extended her hand, touching her fingertips to Edana¡¯s forehead. Skeins of light issued from her fingers, and wove itself around the crown of Edana¡¯s head. Withdrawing her hand Pha?nna said, ¡°Count this frontlet your battle headdress, when the darkness comes. Long ago my light shone down upon this world. Like others of my kin I would in my season descend to the abode of the dead, to dwell until the hour I arose with the dawn upon a new season. My light, a portion thereof, I give to you in this diadem. Wear it, when the time comes to see what cannot be seen with mortal eyes.¡± Edana gingerly probed her head. Rather than a bejeweled ribbon, a triple strand of tiny gems strung like pearls about her head formed the diadem that crowned her now. But the central gem was larger than any pearl boasted of by the great queens of old, and its weight rested on her forehead. From the feel of it, the gem was set into a starburst, which warmed her skin. Before she could remove the headpiece to examine it, Pha?nna spoke again. In a stern tone the celestial added, ¡°Be warned, O Pious One: unmake nothing that was made. There are forces and mysteries beyond your understanding, but your understanding is not required, only your acceptance. Only your faith.¡± Edana bowed. ¡°So let the Sower witness, so let it be.¡± For a long moment Pha?nna locked eyes with her, and stared, as if looking into her soul. To Edana¡¯s surprise, she reached out her hand and smoothed out an errant strand of Edana¡¯s hair. An oddly maternal gesture. ¡°Remember what you learned of yourself. Remember¡ªand move forward.¡± Had not Lady Nensela told her similar, to dwell not on bitter things, only learn from them and move on? Move forward. From now on, Edana vowed, she would plant her feet firmly on her ground, and not remain divided in two. ?Yes,? she replied. Sunlight blinded her. When she opened her eyes again she felt renewed, as though awakening from a restful slumber. Ziri and the huntsmen were standing over her. ¡°Pha?nna has accepted her,¡± said the huntsman on the right. ¡°Welcome to the Star Dragons,¡± Ziri declared, extending his hand. ¡°A Keeper of the Secrets of our Cause, an Unveiler of the Secrets of Our Enemies.¡± Edana clasped his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. Ziri eyed her headpiece, prompting her to remove it from her brow to examine it more carefully. What she had assumed were pearls on a string proved to be more lustrous, more bright than any pearl she¡¯d ever laid eyes on. The electrum starburst provided the setting for a jewel that glittered like adamant, but with the radiance of starlight. ¡°To see what cannot be seen with mortal eyes,¡± Edana said by way of explanation. ¡°So she¡¯s blessed you,¡± Ziri observed. ¡°That¡¯s better than I expected. The usual benefit of becoming an ally of Pha?nna is freedom from compulsion, but in the battles to come we will need what our dragon of the stars has given to you.¡±
¡°I am pleasantly surprised,¡± Senet said. Laughter rang in his voice. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to choose this spot when you sent along your message.¡± Lady Nensela turned, facing him. From a bluff at the edge of the acacia forest she had been staring down at the Gryphon¡¯s Way, a sparkling patch of blue that wound its way through the green and auburn landscape. Now Senet presented himself to her, standing between two acacia trees so that their canopies shaded him. Of course, even if he stepped further out into the open, he would not need the shade. Though the sun¡¯s rays were painfully bright, and the heat it brought oppressive, she and Senet were impervious to it. Senet waved to her, and she waved back, but she made no move to come join him amidst the trees. Once, long ago, the forest was her refuge, the role it had served from the time she was a little girl. But a time came one day when she sought a quiet place for a vision. What she got instead was a strange boy tearing through the trees, and barging right into the small clearing she had considered her place of solititude: Senet, escaping an annoying elder brother. On that day, they were all of ten years old. When they were older, they valued the forest¡¯s protection from prying eyes. Millennia separated those days from their current one, but the memories were so strong that Lady Nensela still dreamt of the forest. Dreams of a simpler, innocent time, Lady Nensela noted. Did she want to go back to those days? When the roads and days unwound before her, with endless paths to walk? Yet in those days she did not know, did not understand some choices would close off roads as though they were never there¡­and other choices would overlay thorns and uproot bricks on what was once a smooth golden road. Lady Nensela would have shuddered, were she still in her body. Stop. She must stop this. Longing for the past was a whirlpool of destruction, one she could not afford to step into. For too long did she skirt the edge of that pool, and it was past time she pulled back. Senet¡¯s boots kicked up little puffs of sand as he stepped onto the bluff. His dark blue tunic flowed around him as he hurried to meet her. Lady Nensela¡¯s lips curved. He was showing off. They used to compete, in their youth, to see who could be the most exacting in the details of their Sendings. Who could do the best job of seeming to be flesh-and-blood even under intense scrutiny? The leather of his trousers looked convincing, and well made, even accounting for their being the garb of the barbarians of the Far North. They flattered his long legs. Was he ¡®wearing¡¯ them for her benefit? She held out her ¡®hand¡¯ to him, and a pang of regret went through her that it was not truly so that he was taking her hand in his. Senet kissed her hand, then held it to his cheek for a moment. ¡°Until we can meet again,¡± he murmured. Lady Nensela waited until he let her go before replying. ¡°It won¡¯t be any time soon,¡± she said, her breath catching. This caught his attention, and his smile faded. She allowed her fears to show plainly on her face. ¡°Tell me where you are and I will come to you. Or you come to me¡ª¡± She put a finger to his lips, stilling him. ¡°Senet, I invited you to meet me because¡ªbecause I need something from you. Even our people marvel at the longevity of our bond. My rock through wind and tide, and many times you spoke the same of me. Many times you said I never let you down.¡± His brow furrowed. ¡°Are you planning to change course?¡± Lady Nensela smiled in spite of herself. But in the wink of an eye her muslin sheath dress glimmered, as though she were wearing shimmersilk. Her Sending reasserted itself, but not quickly enough to keep Senet from noticing her control had slipped. Senet clasped her close. Another pang went through her. ¡°You¡¯ve had a vision,¡± he said after a while. ¡°Yes,¡± she admitted. She was glad she didn¡¯t have to look at him. Speaking into his chest seemed safer somehow. She could get the words out. How could she explain this? Haltingly, she reminded him of the last night they, along with Justinia, Umberto, and Remei, had heard from the Seeker. ¡°But She said something more to me: that in time the nature of the enemy would become clear, and from that day I would hear a voice other than Hers. The voice would tell me more of our enemies¡­and I must heed it, if I would do Her will.¡± Senet¡¯s grip tightened as he held her still closer. ¡°You heard this voice.¡± Lady Nensela slowly exhaled. ¡°It gave me the prophecy I gave to a cutthroat named Gallo: he would die if he took Edana. And he took her. And so it came to pass.¡± She stepped back and looked Senet directly in his eyes. His gaze was steady, but she knew if he were in his body she would feel his heart thundering beneath her palm. ¡°Is that not the test?¡± Lady Nensela asked. ¡°The test of a prophet, or a prophecy: did the prophecy come to pass? It has. It has begun.¡± ¡°Then why does it not comfort you?¡± It was on the tip of her tongue to say. But the Seeker had bound her, and even if Lady Nensela wished to she could not go back on her word. Everything depended upon it. She stared long at him. Why couldn¡¯t they walk this path together? She had never feared to face anything when he was by her side. At last she forced herself to say, ¡°There is one thing only I need from you.¡± ¡°It¡¯s yours,¡± he rasped. ¡°Whatever I can do. Just tell me.¡± Lady Nensela turned around, and with a sweep of her arm she presented Senet with a large sandstone table. A game board was inlaid into the table top. In their childhood they played a board game with three squares across, ten squares down, inlaid with squares of ivory and abalone. But their childhood was over and done. From the time of their very first mission for the Seeker, they used an expanded board that allowed the arrangement of pieces in military formations. The formations moved on squares of dragon¡¯s blood resin interspersed with squares of polished dragon bone. Without a word, Lady Nensela took her place at one end of the table, and Senet stood opposite. Pieces appeared on the board. At her end, grotesque figures cavorted. These sported talons lacquered in black blood, a mouthful of fangs, and razor-spiked carapaces. In their midst moved the giants. On Senet¡¯s side, figures stood on their guard. Lady Nensela had placed a mountain to their left. A strange group of people made up the left flank, closest to the mountain. Senet spotted himself amongst that group, and cocked an eyebrow. Ziri and the Star Dragons were mounted on gryphons outside the right flank. The right flank itself included Halie, a company of sea dragons, dryads, khrestai, and naiads. Halie stood out, in her golden sea-silk dress and her crown of pearls and claw-length fingernails. Senet eyed her, openly curious. ¡°The Sea Lord¡¯s daughter,¡± Lady Nensela said. ¡°Ah,¡± came his sole reply. In the center of the formation stood Edana, her Huntress blades unsheathed. Senet nodded his recognition of her. Lady Nensela had placed Bessa beside her, and together the pair formed the vanguard. ¡°This formation you¡¯re using, I recognize it,¡± Senet said. ¡°The mountain shows you¡¯re taking advantage of what¡¯s available on the ground, something that bars the enemy from attacking from that directon. Useful formation when you¡¯re outnumbered¡ªis this how you perceive us? Outnumbered?¡± We¡¯re besieged. In the living world, and by the shadow world, we are besieged. So said Bessa, and Lady Nensela echoed her words in response to Senet¡¯s question. ¡°Besieged. Yet we have powerful allies to our right flank.¡± ¡°And thus we may act, those of us in the middle,¡± Lady Nensela agreed. At that, Senet¡¯s focus turned to the center lines of battle she had drawn. Quickly enough, he noticed her. One figure stood alone on the board, between their faction and the arsh¡¯at?m. ¡°Selana,¡± Senet said, recognizing her from their visions. Lady Nensela¡¯s eyes dropped. She focused on Selana. ¡°It will seem a small thing I ask right now,¡± she began. ¡°For right now it is an easy thing. But no matter how things look in the future, no matter what, know I put my trust in the Seeker. And for my sake, you must do the same. For all of our sakes, you must do the same. Have faith in my love for you. Have faith in every vow I ever made to you. And keep all vows you have made to the Seeker. No matter what. That is what I ask of you.¡± She looked up, meeting his eyes. Senet stared across the table at her, his jaw working, as if to ask a question he could not dare speak out loud. If only¡­if only he could truly take her in his arms and let her feel his heart beating in rhythm with her own. ¡°Where are you, in this battle?¡± Senet demanded. ¡°I see now what is not right with this setup: you are neither leading the vanguard, nor standing beside me.¡± ¡°I am always with you!¡± she cried. With a snap of her fingers, a figure of herself appeared on the board. The miniature Lady Nensela occupied a red square, right behind Selana on her white square. The Nensela-figure had her arms spread out, as if she were about to fling them around her daughter. ¡°I am with you every step of the way. That will never change, I will always be with you,¡± she said. She took a deep breath and added, ¡°Senet. I saw a thing happen that I would fear were it not for the fact that I have you with me in this. Because we are fighting this Shadow War together I will have no fear. I just need you to trust the Seeker, and trust me. Do you promise?¡± ¡°Why do you even question this?¡± Lady Nensela closed her eyes. He would force her to admit it, though she knew he was not trying to hurt her. ¡°I spent too long angry at the Seeker. I thought I was done with Her, and I wanted Her to be done with me, but She¡¯s not.¡± Lady Nensela let her words hang there, and Senet made no attempt to fill the silence. It was just as well. She had to say it. She stepped away from her game of blood and bones, and turned to faced the river. The sun glittered so brightly on its crystalline surface that she would have been blinded if she were viewing it in her body. ¡°It¡¯s funny. I avoided a prophecy trap with my friends by counting on them to be themselves. I believe the Seeker has done the same to me. She put a little orphan girl, Edana, in my path and trusted me to stay true to myself. All along I have been maneuvered as much as I maneuver others.¡± Senet carefully asked, ¡°Is that a warning? Or regret?¡± Lady Nensela turned back and gestured to the board. ¡°The Seeker is not done with me. I have done my best to ignore Her all this time, because I would not do Her bidding if She would not tell me of Selana. And yet I see now that I still served Her purposes.¡± The figures on the board dimmed, so that only Lady Nensela and Edana remained brightly lit. ¡°It is not an accident Edana crossed my path,¡± Lady Nensela said. ¡°She believes wholeheartedly in her Sower, even after all that has happened to her. Before she returned to Silura, I talked to her about the risks she was taking. But she did not regard her own safety; she said it was her duty to go, because she knew what the giants were going to do. To know, and to do nothing, would be counted an evil by her Sower, and by herself as well. And her saying this pierced my conscience.¡± ¡°But you have also warned people. You brought in the Star Dragons. You did nothing wrong,¡± Senet reminded her. ¡°Oh? It was not wrong to send a girl who cared for and trusted me into the heart of danger, on the word of the Seeker whom I myself refused to trust? You don¡¯t think I owed Edana more than that? Or you? And Justinia, and Umberto, and Remei? I split up the five of us so that if one should fall the Seeker¡¯s bidding could still be done. I asked all of you to take risks, but I myself was not willing to risk trusting the Seeker. Edana never let her grief stand between herself and her Sower, but I was not fully committing to the Seeker¡¯s mission because of my grief.¡± The other figures on the board brightened again. Edana and Bessa and their allies began a slow advance, as the giants and fellshades began to march. Only Selana and Lady Nensela remained motionless on the board. Lady Nensela again gestured to the board. ¡°There is too much at stake for half measures, and Senet, you know I do nothing halfway. I am committed now. I am committed entirely. I will trust in the Seeker or I will fail you all. And that I will not, cannot do.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure I understand.¡± ¡°You will. But promise me, Senet. Promise me that you will not lose faith in me. Promise that you will not lose faith in the Seeker. You are a man who keeps his word, and I need that of you now more than ever.¡± She came from around the board to stand next to him. He took her face in his hands, caressing her fervently. ¡°I promise you, Nensela. I promise.¡± Chapter 31: Kellis XXXI Kellis In which an eidolon visits the theater ¡°And once again we are successful, Lady Lotus!¡± Brison Loris exclaimed. He threw his arms around Bessa and kissed her cheek. He kept one arm around her shoulders as they began the walk from the wings of the Sedge & Bee, the largest theater in Karnassus. ¡°Your actors have done an excellent job as usual,¡± Bessa agreed. Indeed, Brison was an exceptional showman, vindicating her choice for this next phase of the Aeternity War. As soon as she and the others returned to Kyanopolis from rescuing Edana, Bessa spent a week visiting every entertainment she could, particularly the plays. She studied the performances with a critical eye. One acting troupe looked particularly promising, she noted. The Honey Cakes, led by Brison Loris. Then came the meeting on the Jolly Sylph, and afterwards Bessa cloistered herself in her room at Lady Nensela¡¯s home in Kyanopolis. For three days and three nights she wrote her play. On the fourth day she strolled into Fanuco¡¯s to order a round of drinks for everyone. As the Star Dragons promised, Brison was there. Catching his eye was the easy part; the Star Dragon dossier reported his fascination with redheads. To play up her own copper tresses Bessa wore a turquoise chiton, and tucked a huge white lotus behind her ear. Her story, and the crowd¡¯s reaction to it, enchanted Brison so much she easily talked him into giving her a percentage of the gross proceeds. So far, he did not appear to regret it. Today marked their third performance since arriving in ancient Athyr-ai. So brilliant a troupe leader was Brison, and so thrilling was Bessa¡¯s play, that Brison accepted without question her claim that a wealthy fan had slipped them portal passes after another successful showing one day in Kyanopolis. The passes, courtesy of Ziri, ensured Brison gave in to Bessa¡¯s campaign to have them go on tour. The play proved just as popular in Karnassus, the crown jewel of Athyr-ai. But Bessa¡¯s smile was perfunctory as she scanned the departing audience from her vantage point in the tunnel entrance leading to the dressing rooms. Taking Lady Nensela¡¯s advice to heart, Bessa always studied playgoers to check for anyone who made strenuous objections to the play. Even accounting for taste, Bessa had worked to ensure such people would stand out back in Kynapolis. In Karnassus, the stakes were a hundredfold higher: Justin Kellis still resided in the city. Once arriving in Karnassus, Bessa contrived a reason for Brison to drop off ¡®good seat¡¯ passes for the staff at the famed Library of Karnassus. A snare. And not two hours ago, Justin Kellis stepped into it. Terror and triumph fought it out in Bessa¡¯s mind, but she quickly settled on sheer pragmatism: watch the eidolon, in case he might do something notable. However with the play over Kellis was rising from his seat, and Brison was leading her to his study room. Before each show Brison met his actors there, and doled out encouragement and advice. After each show Brison held post-mortems, giving out praise and critiques as warranted. A perfect opportunity to slip away and get a message to Ziri. Having already mentally rehearsed her excuse, all she needed now was a lull in Brison¡¯s chatter, which looked to be coming right about now¡ª ¡°Good evening.¡± Kellis! The tall lanky figure silhouetted in the light of the tunnel entrance could only be the eidolon; he was nearly two feet taller than everyone around him. His stride was so long he would soon draw even with them. Bessa¡¯s heart skipped, but she managed outward calm. Killing her and Brison would be a tactical error; their deaths would bring greater fame to the play than it currently enjoyed. Especially since the play alluded to Honoria, and the destruction of her house, which resonated with the audience in Karnassus. Still. ¡°Watch over us, I beseech you Amyntas,¡± Bessa whispered. From the beginning, Ziri and Lady Nensela both insisted neither Brison nor the actors should know they had been drafted into the war. Bessa had fiercely argued otherwise. Edana settled the argument, saying, ¡°In Silura our success in convincing the legion and the villagers hinged on our demonstrating the lightning weapon and you trading on your family name. The ¡®Ruby Lotus¡¯ can do neither of those things. And only as the Ruby Lotus are you and your group protected. Our enemies are not looking for her. But without this play, no one in Rasena Valentis will be looking for our enemies, or know how to protect themselves from them.¡± Conceding the point Bessa relented, though having Kellis literally at her back now gave her second thoughts. Better to pretend she hadn¡¯t heard him, so she laughed loudly at the witticism Brison happened to utter at that moment. All the way to the study room she made conversational noises with Brison, and the wandering stars who ceaselessly orbited him. Brison basked in the attention, occasionally stroking the snow-and-ash stubble embellishing his face. He looked like a sculptor¡¯s model with his defined chin, angular jawline, and gently hollowed cheeks. In his youth, said Lady Nensela, Brison¡¯s blue eyes were described as mesmerizing. In the current day Bessa added a second adjective, piercing, for they hinted of the shrewd intellect behind them. When Bessa first met him he was caught between the awkward stage of aging pretty boy teetering at the edge of has-been-town, and distinguished silver fox in master-of-his-game-city. His latest success with Bessa¡¯s play was accelerating the perception of him in the latter direction. A perception grounded in reality. His showmanship prowess could keep an amphitheater filled for weeks, exactly what Bessa needed. Now the entourage fanned out when they reached Brison¡¯s study. One member, Daphne, eyed Bessa sullenly. Bessa pretended not to notice. Quietly¡ªfor now¡ªDaphne whispered of the intrigues she thought Brison had with Bessa. Early on Bessa made it clear to Brison there could be nothing between them, and she made sure to give no fuel to the idea. Her own actions would speak for her, at least until she found a way to douse Daphne¡¯s embers. With so many people jostling about, Bessa did not reach the door in time to shut it. As she feared, Kellis was persistent. His loud greeting drew their attention as he stepped out of the shadows and into the brightly lit room. Brison smiled politely, but Bessa said nothing. ¡°I congratulate you on the success of your play,¡± Kellis boomed, with a smile that did not touch his flinty eyes. With a sweep of his crimson cape he bowed graciously. When he straightened his head nearly brushed the ceiling. Shorter than a giant, of course, but in shouting distance of seven feet. But his height was not the only unusual thing about him. Though the sleeves of his tunic were long, they failed to hide that his hands nearly reached his knees. His skeletal fingers were elongated enough that if he were to wrap his hand around Bessa¡¯s neck, his fingers would overlap his thumb. Bessa could not help staring at those spider-like digits. Did the man the body belonged to allow himself to be enticed into possession with a promise to look more normal, more attractive? Such deformities could not have been easy to live with. Nevertheless, the eidolon dressed his host body stylishly, in a smart blue tunic. So scant was his figure that if his fancy leather belt weren¡¯t clasped tightly about his waist, it would slide down his bird-like legs to his ankles. At least his facial features appeared more normal, even if his hazel eyes were a trifle close-set. A strong pinch might snap off his thin aquiline nose, Bessa imagined, so fragile did it seem. ¡°Thank you, good man, thank you very much,¡± Brison said. His eyes crinkled as he smiled. Brison did not take success for granted, as Bessa learned early on. Rather than replace faded, threadbare tunics, he simply relied on clever patch jobs and embroidery. He preferred instead to reinvest profits into the company. The favor fountain could dry up at any moment, he explained. I¡¯ll put my coin where I can make more coins, not squander it on fancy clothes. What I¡¯ve got still works. Recently, Bessa finally managed to convince him that looking as if his money pouch held silver would make it more likely for investors to yield up gold. ¡°I understand you come from Kyanopolis,¡± Kellis continued. His soft voice was far too smooth for Bessa¡¯s liking. ¡°Indeed,¡± said Daphne, moving up beside Brison. ¡°This play is very popular, and you were smart to catch it now before we move on.¡± ¡°Move on? You¡¯re not staying in Karnassus?¡± So casual he sounded. ¡°Oh, dear me, no,¡± Daphne said, with a toss of her silky, sable hair. As Bessa understood it, Daphne once played coquettish girls on stage, until she insisted on meatier parts. Yet when nervous she reverted to that behavior, including batting the long lashes framing her luminous pearl grey eyes, as she did now. Kellis¡¯s unsettling features must have gotten to her. Hugging herself Daphne continued, ¡°There¡¯s great demand! Although, Karnassus is the most civilized place we¡¯ve been to. Karnassians know how to properly show their appreciation for quality performances.¡± By ¡°properly¡± Besssa knew she meant the amount of gold coins appreciative audiences tossed their way after each show. ¡°Well then, I am fortunate to catch you now. May I extend an invitation for a private showing? Perhaps three nights from now? We will pay you twice your usual rate.¡± Kellis watched Brison¡¯s face. Bessa tensed. Everything was happening as Ziri anticipated, right down to Kellis¡¯s offer. Accepting the offer was part of the plan. And Ziri insisted his team had ensured Brison and the actors were proof against Kellis and his minions. Still, she didn¡¯t want to put those efforts to the test. Not after everything their enemies had proved themselves capable of doing. Innocent of danger, Brison stood a little taller. ¡°Come to my office and we¡¯ll talk about it,¡± he said smoothly. For once he was not surprised when Bessa accompanied him. After so many years as the sole authority in his company, having Bessa as a partner did not sit well with him. But while Brison was an excellent showman he was terrible at business, and Bessa¡¯s conscience ensured he would not remain untutored in this matter. This part of herself, the enterprising woman of business Aurelia Cunovendi raised her to be, she could not suppress no matter what name she called herself now. All her life Bessa dreamed of becoming a famous Siluran playwright, to give honor to her people. But she saw no way to play her current role as herself without simultaneously endangering her family. The vineyard couldn¡¯t move, but she could, and a moving target was harder to hit, no? To that end, Bessa carefully cultivated a mysterious, yet larger-than-life persona, the Ruby Lotus of Larissopolis. An obvious sobriquet, denoting origins in an obscure backwater town. Neatly enough, her cover might even pass casual inspection well enough to avoid a truth seer¡¯s attentions: she did come from a Larissa, as Papouli once said it was his mother¡¯s name. Brison didn¡¯t pry, and mercifully, he merely thought Bessa eccentric and exotic, which accounted for any odd missteps she made in her disguise. Once ensconced in Brison¡¯s office, Bessa took her place beside him. Justin Kellis eyed her warily. Bessa defiantly met his gaze. Her name¡ªwell, her alias¡ªwas on the play meant to destroy him. Let him come at her, not Brison or his people. Nevertheless, she let Brison do most of the talking. Deliberately, she played the foil in his negotiations, extracting from Kellis seemingly harmless concessions to sweeten the deal. After the meeting Brison insisted on personally escorting Kellis out of the theater. Bessa followed them, on the pretext that she, too, must go out. While the eidolon occupying Kellis¡¯s body needed it for strategic reasons¡ªand therefore wouldn¡¯t usurp Brison¡¯s¡ªthe eidolon might still harm Brison by some infernal means. Kellis wouldn¡¯t get the chance, not if Bessa had anything to say about it. Once Kellis safely departed, Bessa found one of Ziri¡¯s messengers waiting at the usual spot, a carry-out tavern across from the theater. When she returned, Brison was delivering the news of the private show to a cheering group. ¡°Good of you to suggest he include dinner as well, Lady Lotus,¡± Brison added, which elicited another round of cheers ... from all except Daphne. Stone-faced, the actress merely folded her arms. When Bessa first joined the troupe, an actor told her Daphne had been campaigning to become Brison¡¯s business manager. Since childhood she had been part of the company, and played no small role in its successes. Yet her efforts, and hopes, were dashed the moment Bessa swept into Fanuco¡¯s. That Bessa was more educated¡ªshe boldly wrote her byline on the play, in the metallic ink Edana gave her¡ªand of a higher social status¡ªsuch soft hands¡ªserved only as salt in the wound. When Brison agreed to Bessa¡¯s condition of receiving a portion of the profits, Daphne locked herself in her room and wouldn¡¯t come out for three days. One of the actors let drop that Daphne was a foundling, abandoned in infancy. Foundlings were often appropriated by disreputable people for disreputable trades. Acting was the lesser of evils Daphne could be trained for; it was a step up from prostitution. However, Daphne was ambitious, and saw Bessa as a threat to her aspirations. An obvious foothold for Kellis, if he wished to destroy the troupe. Time to seal off that particular route, with one of those pincer maneuvers her tutor went on and on about when he lectured Bessa about ancient battles. Bessa shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s the least Kellis could do, and saves us money. Let¡¯s allocate funds where it will matter: the costumes. Daphne, did you not say they needed more polish?¡± Daphne eyed her. True, she did say the costumes need to be traded up or refined, but she did so in a conversation Bessa was not part of. Let her now wonder what other utterances had made their way back to Bessa. No fool was Daphne, so Bessa gambled she had just bought herself an end to the gossip. Left flank struck. After a beat Daphne valiantly regained her composure, seizing the opportunity Bessa had handed her. ¡°Yes, and I have a few ideas for improvements, including some costume makers we might employ here in Karnassus. We should discuss this further, don¡¯t you think?¡± Daphne glanced at Brison. Brison looked from one woman to the other in surprise. ¡°Are you sure about this?¡± He turned to Bessa. Daphne gritted her teeth. ¡°Our costumes were fine in Kyanopolis and the other cities, but Daphne is right,¡± Bessa said in her most honeyed voice. ¡°Karnassus is famed for its sophistication, matched only by Valentis. The story dazzles, the actors dazzle, but the play should also be a feast for the eyes, no? Let our sets and costumes sparkle and shine. Especially for this private party, where we will be seen up close and every detail¡ªor lack of attention to it¡ªwill be noticeable.¡± Brison stroked his chin. The scrape of his fingers against his stubble made a soft scritch. ¡°Well yes, but surely¡ª¡± ¡°Of course you are busy, so let us not add another morsel to your plate,¡± Bessa said. ¡°Let Daphne take the lead in this matter. You¡¯ve said yourself she has an eye for that which is pleasing to the eye. Consider this her sphere of responsibility.¡± ¡°And the money?¡± Bessa caught Daphne¡¯s eye. Slack-faced, the actress appeared to be caught in a daze. Excellent. Now for the right flank. ¡°Daphne? You are to be creative, and dazzling, but you are to work your glamour from within our budget, which we can discuss in a little bit. Agreed?¡± Daphne managed to rally. ¡°To that end, what if we buy some slaves of our own? They¡¯ll make the clothes to order without charging us for the rush time. And, they won¡¯t cut into our profits.¡± Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Brison coughed. ¡°The slaves are a long-term matter. In the time allotted, the known dressmakers are the better option. Better still, see what you can find at the second-chance stores.¡± They worked out the details. Bessa allowed herself a small sigh of relief. Everything was going according to plan.
All went well in the following days. Just as Bessa intended, her ¡°pincer maneuver¡± resulted in Daphne becoming more cooperative. Therefore, when Bessa suggested adding certain elements to the costumes, Daphne didn¡¯t put up a fight. The baubles and patterns woven into the costumes were indeed lovely, yes. But they were also spells of protection. Ziri had procured the amulets, which passed for simple costume gems to the casual observer. The amulets were a source of debate between Bessa and the arcanus. If Kellis sensed what they were and what they did, wouldn¡¯t he also assume they were on to him? Lady Nensela settled the matter, pointing out the play itself was a powerful signal that Kellis had enemies who could unmask him at will. ¡°Should he investigate, what would he learn other than that Brison¡¯s company is long-standing? A company led by a former actor and comprised of actors trained up from childhood. The obvious conclusion he will draw is that someone is using the company as a cat¡¯s-paw.¡± Which was where Bessa came in. Her job was to lay the trail for Kellis to find Ziri. ¡°Don¡¯t attempt to deceive a fellshade,¡± Edana warned. ¡°Let the truth suffice. Kellis will be relieved the Star Dragons, a known enemy, are the ones influencing the play. An answer which lends itself to a simple solution. If he assays the baubles, he will know they came from the Star Dragons.¡± Whether Kellis was omniscient or not wouldn¡¯t make a difference, then. He would realize the theater company was not his problem; dealing with the Star Dragons would be his first priority. And his undoing. If all went well. ¡°Ready?¡± Brison stood in Bessa¡¯s doorway. The sole perquisite she¡¯d requested was a desk in her bedroom, which was where she was working when he arrived. ¡°Finished, my lady,¡± said the troupe¡¯s ornamentalist, who was responsible for their hair and cosmetics. Tieback braids restrained Bessa¡¯s curls, but the hairdresser showed her artistry in the elegant rosette knot that joined the braids together in the back. As well, she wove a string of peridots and pearls through Bessa¡¯s braids, coiling them around the knot. Heirlooms from Bessa¡¯s mother, the jewels now carried Halie¡¯s blessing against infernal powers. ¡°Marvelous,¡± Bessa judged. With a smile of thanks she dismissed the woman. She scooped up a shimmersilk shawl from where she left it on her bed. The diaphanous fabric allowed her to stay cool, maintain propriety, and complemented her dress. Perfect. However, her hands shook slightly as she wrapped the shawl about herself, prompting Brison to ask if she were nervous. ¡°I simply want this night to sow future successes,¡± she evaded. ¡°Someone at the party might make an excellent patron.¡± Brison lifted his eyebrow and offered his arm. ¡°A patron, you say? Aren¡¯t you the ambitious one.¡± ¡°Did you get this far without ambition? Your own, at least?¡± Bessa accepted his arm, allowing him to escort her. ¡°Now you sound like Daphne,¡± Brison complained, though he flashed a good-natured smile. ¡°Listen to good ol¡¯ Uncle Brison, my girl: stay away from patrons. Cherish independence. Patrons are always quick to think they can do your job better than you can. Patrons get ideas. They make suggestions. And when they think they¡¯re holding all the purse strings they become insufferable. It¡¯s not worth it.¡± The Star Dragon¡¯s dossier said Brison¡¯s straitened circumstances came courtesy of a disastrous patron he¡¯d had several years previous. ¡°Fair enough. Then, how about if I aim for us to be popular enough to get invited to parties, without simultaneously getting ourselves a new boss?¡± ¡°As long as they¡¯re willing to pay double our rate,¡± Brison conceded. ¡°Did you expect this to happen when you suggested I leave the good-seat passes at the library?¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t?¡± It was how she got around him; she simply implied any brilliant idea of hers would have occurred to him as well. ¡°You realize Justin Kellis is likely a freedman? His patron probably ordered him to invite us. If nothing else, he or the library might offer to buy a copy of the play. I trust you will have a worthy fee ready.¡± ¡°Smart thinking, sweet lotus. I regret giving you a share of the profits less and less.¡± He was smiling when he said it. She laughed, though she still mused over the necessity of buying a share of the company. Playwrights normally sold their plays for a fee to theater groups, and earned nothing further, even if the play itself earned ten times that amount once staged. Bessa was too much Aurelia¡¯s granddaughter to let herself be cheated so. The sultry day had already give way to a balmy evening when Bessa and Brison stepped outside, and into a rented carriage Brison had arranged. Like Honoria, Kellis lived in an expansive hilltop estate, but his was in the exclusive Gate District, where every home enjoyed a view of the fabled Karnassus Gate. The Gate was magnificent: two glittering columns of blue adamant, at least five stories tall, bearing an arch of polished copper inset with lapis lazuli filigree. No, wait¡ªLady Nensela had insisted it was not filigree; after the Third Cataclysm her people had conquered the Karnassus Gate. The ¡®filigree¡¯ was actually an example of scriptomancy, a kind of magic practiced by ancient Athyraian sorcerers, where to write of a thing was to make it so. A heat haze undulated between the columns. Every so often the haze would vanish, and a swirl of bright copper clouds would iris open as travelers passed in or out of the Gate. Bessa sighed wistfully whenever she caught sight of it. How wonderful it would be if more Gates still survived! The sparkling structure dominated the skyline, for it stood atop another hill, separated from the street by seventy stairs carved into the hillside. The staircase, spanning the width of eight oxen-drawn carriages, was bisected in the middle with a graduated ramp reserved for wheeled traffic. Bringing the world to Rasena Valentis, and bringing Rasena Valentis to the world, as the motto declared on the welcome arch at the foot of the stairs. Brison declared Kellis¡¯s neighborhood was proof of Bessa¡¯s suggestion that Kellis was connected to money. Kellis greeted them personally. Seven of his friends joined them in the banquet hall. Right away Brison presented Kellis with a jug of finely aged wine, which Bessa had insisted they give to him as a gift, ¡°for your generosity,¡± Brison said. She and Brison argued about it the other day, but again Bessa prevailed, pointing out they were building a persona for their troupe. A memorable persona, which would get them talked about. As their host, Kellis could not refuse the gift. When his friends heard the wine was a rare vintage from Valentis they immediately insisted on enjoying it on the spot. Once the actors drank, Bessa allowed herself to relax. As was usual amongst Rasena Valentians, the wine was cut with sea water. Siding with Siluran attitudes in this matter, Bessa always disparaged the custom. However, the custom allowed Halie to place the final part of the spell of protection on the actors. Bessa brought the cup to her lips. She wrinkled her nose at the scent of the brine. Such a savage abomination against perfectly good wine! Reluctantly she drank, bracing herself so she did not gag. Kellis, she noticed, held his cup to his lips, but never once sipped. The dinner went well, and Bessa deployed every ounce of charm in praising the Reaper for the bounty He provided for Kellis¡¯s table. This prompted one of Kellis¡¯s friends to gaily invoke the Reaper¡¯s blessing over their meal, allaying some of Bessa¡¯s worries of what Kellis might have done to it. However, when Kellis asked if they knew the identity of the Ruby Lotus, Bessa felt a frisson of fear when Brison proudly pointed to her. This was her cue. Anticipating this moment, Bessa carried out her stratagem of telling a breezy, carefully edited version of what she ¡®heard¡¯ of the events in Silura. She hinted of Ziri as a knowledgeable source of information, enough to whet Kellis¡¯s appetite. When the time came for the show, Kellis made a point of sitting next to Bessa. ¡°You must tell me more about these giants before you leave, Lady Lotus.¡± Kellis said little throughout the performance, but his restless fidgeting betrayed him. His friends clapped and whistled at all the right parts, raving enthusiastically when the show was over. They chattered for a little bit about whether the giants could be defeated the way they were in the play. ¡°It¡¯s peculiar the giants can throw lightning around like the khrestai can. One does wonder,¡± said a guest. Young, handsome, with a devastating smile, the princely man elicited no protest from Daphne when he reclined on her couch and began sharing a cake of honey and sesame with her. Bessa smiled enigmatically. ¡°Do we not speak of the ¡®Known World¡¯, my lord? Creatures who can harness lightning are not from around here.¡± By now the news of the Battle of Red Pointe was starting to trickle in, and soon would be more widely known. It would bolster the play, and she hoped the troupe could linger long enough in Karnassus for the news to pique everyone¡¯s curiosity. Soon enough Kellis asked her about Ziri. Or rather, he asked how she knew of certain news. Make him work for the information you give him. He will value it more and question it less. So Ziri had advised her. Therefore she played coy, although she was not entirely faking it: she feared sending an eidolon to anyone¡¯s doorstep. With each breadcrumb she dropped, she heard Ziri¡¯s voice telling her, feed an enemy before you kill him. Every muscle in her body ached with tension until at last she and the troupe crossed the threshold of their apartment building. Once there, Bessa went straight to her room. Waiting for her on her windowsill was a silverbird, another of Lady Nensela¡¯s animachina. Silver-feathered and tawny-bellied, the mechanical birds were modeled after the true silverbirds of the seer¡¯s homeland. But what truly mattered was their ability to quote what was said to them. ¡°He¡¯s going for it,¡± she said without preamble. The bird flew away. By the time she finished her bedtime routine the bird had returned. ¡°Tomorrow, then,¡± it said in Ziri¡¯s voice. ¡°Be ready.¡±
Two days later a messenger from Ziri summoned Bessa, on the pretext of giving her an invitation from a friend. Ziri¡¯s group met in the backroom at Alexander¡¯s, which was like Fanuco¡¯s but with a Karnassian accent. Alexander¡¯s blended Pelasgian, Rasena Valentian, and Athyraian influences in both decor and cuisine: the columns used lotus capitals, the floors were tiled in mosaics, and lovely youths and maidens served a sweet crimson beer brewed from wheat and dates. The tinkle and clang of the sistrum kept rhythm with the relaxing strum strum thrum of the eight-string kithara, a pleasant accompaniment to the lively chatter of the guests. Ziri¡¯s attention to detail reassured Bessa; for her to be seen in a place like this would arouse no curiosity at all. Her evenings here would pass unnoticed, and unremarked on. ¡°What is it? Did it work? I see you¡¯re still alive, Ziri,¡± Bessa said by way of greeting. Edana handed her a glass of violatium, a wine infused with violets and sweetened with honey. This being Athyr-ai and Alexander¡¯s being a fine establishment, the violatium came in a glass cup that showed off the brilliant violet hue of the wine. ¡°Justin Kellis is ours,¡± Ziri replied. Bessa allowed the sweet floral wine to roll about on her tongue before she swallowed. ¡°Isn¡¯t that good?¡± Leo snickered. ¡°That was the easy part, O Ruby Lotus. Now we need to expose him.¡± The play had everyone talking, all according to plan. The Salamandra in the marketplace were downright giddy. They raved about ¡°the Lady Aelia character,¡± and talked up the play in general. And were making a killing selling their acid. They weren¡¯t alone in their profits; demand for amulets against Erebossi was up sharply as well. ¡°But not high enough,¡± Ziri said. ¡°Too many people still think it¡¯s just a play. That¡¯s where Kellis comes in. Your play has introduced the idea of Erebossi walking amongst us in alliance with the giants. It¡¯s time to unmask Kellis.¡± They looked at her. Bessa narrowed her eyes in turn. ¡°This won¡¯t involve the theater, will it? The actors will not be used for this, will they?¡± ¡°If you can arrange to have the theater emptied of all personnel, say in three days time, we¡¯ll take it from there,¡± Ziri said. Halie added, ¡°Fear not, Bessa. The tide is turning.¡±
Bessa decided her best bet to clear the theater was to get an invitation to a private showing. Preferably one with a fee so high Brison would assent to it. To Bessa¡¯s delight, she didn¡¯t have to seek an invitation to a private showing; people sought her. Brison pointed out ethnic Rasenans and Valentians believed her a novelty, a woman and a playwright. They needed confirmation two such people could exist in the same body. At least the Karnassian Pelasgians were claiming Bessa wrote as if Thalia had come from the Everlasting Lands and breathed her spirit into her. Celebrated in ancient times, the works of the poetess were currently the focus of a renaissance amongst the local elite. In the end, Bessa was able to play the suitors off one another, until she obtained the conditions that made Brison smile for hours. For the next step she secretly managed to wrangle an exclusive lease on the theater during the same week of the group¡¯s private showings. She used her own funds for this, to avoid questions from Brison. Securing the exclusive use of the building gave Bessa leeway to send the slaves out for a ¡°much-deserved day off¡± while she arranged for some custom maintenance. The slaves balked, but abruptly acquiesced when she offered to pay whatever wages they would have earned that day, plus half more. ¡°Give my secretary the receipts,¡± Ziri told her when she met him again. ¡°And great job on giving my people cover. They can be the maintenance crew for your ¡®project¡¯.¡± ¡°What about witnesses?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°What difference will it make if Kellis changes, but no one¡¯s there to see it?¡± ¡°Trust me. Everyone will know about this.¡± On ¡°Execution Day¡± the actors were on their third encore of their private showing when alarm bells tolled through the city. ¡°Is there a fire?¡± the host, Lord Silvanus wondered. They went to the roof of his palatial home, where they could look over the city. Companies of watchmen raced through the streets. The watchmen converged on one street in particular. ¡°The theater!¡± Brison cried. ¡°No, it can¡¯t be,¡± Daphne said quickly. ¡°It can¡¯t be on fire, it can¡¯t be!¡± Brison¡¯s jaw worked. Without a word he hurried for the backstairs, which led to the street, with Bessa and the others pursuing close behind him. A throng was already milling about when they arrived. Brison, Bessa, and Daphne pushed forward as best they could. ¡°It is the theater,¡± Brison said, dismay in his voice. Feigning terror Bessa gripped his arm, but otherwise kept silent. Daphne asked the others in the crowd what was going on. ¡°A sorcerer!¡± ¡°A monster!¡± ¡°An eidolon! Like in the play! An eidolon attacked the theater!¡± Eidolon made Brison freeze for a moment, then he charged forward. The trio fought their way to the head of the crowd. The city¡¯s pegasus prime was in charge. ¡°Everybody step back! Step back! Don¡¯t cross this line!¡± With an air-slash of his finger a bright silver line appeared on the street. The abjuration would allow no crossing. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Brison shouted over the crowd. He was not the only one asking this, and the sorcerer paid no attention to him. ¡°Is anyone hurt?¡± Bessa shouted. She glanced to and fro. Was it a good sign or a bad sign that she saw none of the Star Dragons? ¡°Sir! We work here. Is anyone hurt?¡± The sorcerer¡¯s reply was aborted when a centurion interrupted with, ¡°It¡¯s coming out! It¡¯s coming out!¡± The crowd directly ringing the shield quieted immediately, awaiting the reveal. Bessa¡¯s heart pounded. Someone thumped her back, complaining she was blocking the view. How short people were in this part of the world! But shifting position only invited complaints from other people, so Bessa ignored them all. The city Watch came into view. Amongst them floated a silver bubble, bearing their prey. And what prey it was, a horrific chimerical vulture man, long-necked, and indigo-skinned. Long skeletal fingers clawed at the bubble. No sound came out when he opened a mouth full of sharp teeth to roar or scream or curse. The crowd shrank back. Daphne screamed, hurting Bessa¡¯s ears. Unfortunately, Bessa couldn¡¯t protect them because Daphne trapped her right arm when she reflexively sank her nails into it. ¡°What. Is. That?¡± Brison thundered. ¡°How did anything looking like that get in the theater?¡± someone else demanded. The pegasus prime apparently wondered the same thing. He snapped his fingers, and his sub prime stepped forward. They were joined by the centurions, who together uttered a spell as they tossed holy salt on the creature. One, two, three heartbeats and the creature began thrashing in earnest. A bright golden light flashed, forcing them to avert their eyes. In the time it took to regain their sight, Bessa heard the watchmen exclaim. Daphne recovered first. ¡°It¡¯s Justin Kellis,¡± she cried. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she began jumping up and down. ¡°By the gods, it¡¯s Justin Kellis! Brison! It¡¯s Justin Kellis.¡± Bessa¡¯s vision returned. A furious Justin Kellis glowered at them. He snarled what Bessa imagined to be curses, except in a strange language. Black smoke curled from his mouth, only to dissolve in a flash of white as the holy symbols on the cage flared. Brison swore in astonishment, forgetting himself. ¡°He tricked us! It¡¯s Justin Kellis,¡± Daphne continued. Bessa was finally forced to pry the other woman¡¯s fingers from her arm. She winced; the process cost her slivers of flesh and a small amount of blood. To her surprise, the people weren¡¯t nearly as frightened at the thought of an arsh¡¯at?m or shape-shifting eidolon, so much as one disguising itself as someone they knew. Another in the crowd also recognized Justin Kellis, and his name spread like wildfire. The vast majority of the people had no idea who he was, but Bessa expected that would change soon enough. She suspected the Star Dragons had arranged to have some of the library staff in the crowd, ensuring Kellis would be recognized. What mattered now was that her play had suddenly gained credibility, and people would readily believe the events portrayed were plausible, even if they never heard of the Battle of Red Pointe. Justin Kellis was unmasked. Chapter 32: The Curse XXXII The Curse In which Escamilla must be reckoned with In the days after exposing Justin Kellis as an Erebossan, Bessa¡¯s play surged in popularity. The Watch made a formal investigation, which meant closing the theater for a few days. Rumors swirled about town, of an eidolon wearing the body of a human working in the city library. After three days the governor made a formal announcement. He singled out Giantslayers and Shadow Fiends for special mention, acknowledging everyone¡¯s suspicion that Kellis targeted the play for attack. By now, everyone knew Kellis had invited the theater company to his estate for a private showing, and speculation was rampant about his motives. People were falling all over themselves to get included in the excitement, saying they ¡°always knew¡± there was something strange about him, and recounting outlandish anecdotes. The Watch knew enough not to kill Kellis¡¯s human host, but containing him was another matter. The Star Dragons earned their pay, for they had primed the senior officers to expect such a problem. The Watch expanded their investigation of Kellis, sealing off the library. They quickly discovered the scrolls containing shadow lore were systematically hidden or made obscure, with their tags removed and the scrolls themselves placed in buckets far from their original locations. This, too, became known, and the governor ordered those scrolls copied to codex form and disseminated throughout the city, especially to the Watch and the schools. Every temple was to have free copies on hand to pass out to any who asked. Once they banished the eidolon, Kellis¡¯s body was placed on a pyre in the town square and burned. Priests mixed his ashes with blessed salt before consigning them to the sea. Audiences packed every seat in the theater when Bessa and Brison were allowed to finally re-open. The audience included students and teachers from the schools of sorcery in Karnassus and the officers and soldiers from the Watch. Bessa and Brison received more invitations for private showings than they knew what to do with. Ziri expressed satisfaction with the prices his scouts reported in the stores and market stalls. Business was booming for all the right people, and prices rose with the demand. But now Lady Nensela reported turmoil in the emperor¡¯s court. ¡°Someone tried to kill him,¡± she said, when they met aboard the Jolly Sylph again. ¡°The assassins struck at night, but it was their mistake not to account for his insomnia.¡± Ziri glanced at her. ¡°You have people inside the emperor¡¯s court as well?¡± ¡°Aside from Drusus himself, no.¡± They looked at her. Sitting calmly at her place at the head of the table, Lady Nensela wore an expression of utter nonchalance, as if she¡¯d said nothing remarkable at all. ¡°You know the emperor?¡± Bessa asked, speaking for all of them by virtue of being the first to find her voice. ¡°Did I not tell you a day would come when you would stand in his court? The day has come. Convince Brison to go to Valentis before the sailing season closes.¡± And so she did. Karnassus had served its purpose; time to move on to Valentis. As it happened, Brison had always wanted to sail to Valentis via the prestigious Karnassian trade fleets. Unfortunately, the voyage to Valentis did not go well. The choppy sea batted the ship so violently that it listed sharply on its side for several terrifying moments. Winds blew in the opposite direction than normal, blowing them days off course. Bessa kept her ears open, and learned of the crew¡¯s belief a formidable sorcerer was behind the weather. Or a team of them. On the eighth day came three sea monsters¡ªkrakens¡ªwho knocked holes in the ship¡¯s hull with their tentacles. The third kraken snatched up a crewman. The monsters ended their rampage when a sea dragon broke the waves and roared a challenge. In surprise, perhaps, the third monster dropped the crewman back onto the deck. Yelping in pain at first, the sailor made no resistance when his mates carried him away from the creature¡¯s reach. In the meantime, two drakes flanked the sea dragon, and with a roar from him they gave chase. This alone kept the crew and passengers from panicking. Everyone¡¯s nerves were tested when wild gryphons attacked the sails and masts. Bessa managed to calm the actors when she pointed out gryphons were land-based. If the beasts were on the open sea, then they had to have come from a pirate fleet. Privately, she hoped they wouldn¡¯t think about one particular villain in her play, the sea captain she based on Rozvan Lior. The actors seized on the pirate suggestion; after what happened with Kellis the thought of mere pirates was reassuring. The realization an eidolon had hosted them still unsettled them. In quiet moments they talked over and over again about whether or not the eidolon had considered them a threat and intended to harm them. ¡°But why did nothing happen to us?¡± This question troubled them so much, Bessa was obliged to call attention to the gems in the costumes they¡¯d worn to Kellis¡¯s house. One of the actors deduced they were amulets. Before leaving for Valentis, she made a point of having priests come in to cleanse their theater and openly give the actors amulets and spells of protection. Now she put forward the idea that the play was divinely sanctioned, and that this sanction accounted for Kellis¡¯s inability to harm them. Why else would it happen that the costume maker accidentally put real amulets in the clothes instead of the costume trinkets Daphne had ordered? With the question in the air, Bessa reminded them she wrote her play based on true events, which added weight to her suggestion the gods sided with them. That claim, and the sea dragons they continued to sight along the way, calmed the actors. Brison seized upon Bessa¡¯s explanations as the basis of the pitches he began practicing day and night. When they finally reached land, they delayed in port so the crew and passengers could make offerings in gratitude to the Sea Lord. Nothing less than ambergris would do, and Brison¡¯s troupe collectively offered up what funds they could to purchase some. Daphne sold her pearl earrings, the first she ever bought when she became successful as an actress. Mingled with Brison¡¯s eager contribution of a pouch of gold, they even added a snow-white aurochs to the offering. ¡°It¡¯s thanks to you I could even imagine affording ambergris,¡± Brison murmured, in an aside to Bessa as they formed up around the altar. For her part Bessa sacrificed the most precious of her toilette: rose oil, an expensive import shipped from Gandhar across the Gold Sea. She had intended to use it as perfume on her wedding day. The bottle itself was precious: shimmering rock crystal fashioned in the shape of a swan. The bottle, too, she yielded up in her offering. In addition, she offered white doves to the Restorer in petition for the injured sailor¡¯s recovery. Afterwards, they discovered the Star Dragons of Valentis had already prepared the ground in anticipation of their arrival. Word of Karnassus and Red Pointe had reached Valentis by then. The Star Dragons worked furiously to suppress spurious versions of Bessa¡¯s play, even going so far as to engineer episodes of ¡®disturbing the peace¡¯ or ¡®indecent public acts¡¯ resulting in the arrests of would-be poachers. This meant demand for the real play was pent up, ensuring Bessa and Brison were met at the docks by the owners of several theater buildings. Brison brought in priests to place spells of protection on the theater he finally chose, as well as the townhouse offered up as their residence. Nevertheless, they were not without further trouble. The third eidolon had not been accounted for, after all. First came the plague of inspections. And fines and new regulations that never made any sense, but carved out a non-trivial amount of their time to comply with. When Brison muttered about having to bribe someone just to piss in peace, he was nearly arrested on the spot by an overzealous official. Edana came to the rescue. She and the others had made it to Valentis ahead of Bessa. When they realized the officials were waging a campaign against the play, she and the Star Dragons began a quiet investigation. It was the work of a few days to discover the officials had ties to the missing Draco Aether Escamilla. For months Halie had made it her priority to scout for him, but she had come up empty: ¡°He¡¯s left this world for now.¡± Ziri set a watch on Escamilla¡¯s associates. If he did return, they would be the first to know. Before Bessa¡¯s arrival, Edana tracked down her business partner, Silas Atreus. As she intended, he introduced her to his social circle. Soon enough she became a popular guest at his parties, allowing her to piece together whose fortunes had risen, and whose had fallen on account of her silver business. Of the latter, she learned which of them had been connected to Escamilla, giving the Star Dragons more avenues to pursue. Now Edana introduced Atreus to Bessa and Brison. Naturally his silver mining venture with Edana increased his distinction amongst the Valentian elite ¡­ along with his connections. When he found out about Bessa¡¯s troubles, he made a few complaints to the right people. The officials backed off Bessa was not reassured. The Erebossan would try and thwart them again, but how?
Edana awakened suddenly. Shocked into alertness, she tried to sit up. She couldn¡¯t move. She was completely paralyzed. In her room at Lady Nensela¡¯s Valentian estate, darkness surrounded Edana. Neither moonlight nor starlight penetrated. The fire in her brazier had long since died out, leaving not even a wisp of smoke from the styrax resin she¡¯d burned to help her sleep. Only the sweet floral scent lingered. But the darkness was not the familiar dark of a cloudy, moonless night. It possessed a different quality, more oppressive and absolute in a way inspiring Edana to think of the shadow world of Erebossa¡­and the spirits that dwelt within it. Something hissed at her feet. Edana¡¯s heart somersaulted. The memory of her time as a drakaina came rushing back to her, pummeling her with such force that she needed to gasp for breath. But she could not scream. Just as that thought sank in, the shadows shifted. And now she saw them. Two bright, acid green orbs peered at her from out of the gloom. The height where they appeared hinted they belonged to a tall creature. A creature standing at the foot of her bed. Still she could not scream. White teeth gleamed beneath the eyes. A harsh voice rasped, ¡°No one will hear your screams.¡± Edana¡¯s blood froze in her veins. No one would hear her? Was Lady Nensela dead? Ziri? Was she¡ª ¡°You¡¯re in my realm,¡± the voice snapped, sounding like a cross between a bark and a whine. As if a jackal were speaking. Jackal, the beast that prowled ruins and ate of the dead, earning itself an association with desolation. And death. Move. Move! But she couldn¡¯t. A horrible familiar sensation came over her, akin to Gallo¡¯s compulsion spell, but blessedly her mind remained sharp. Without warning, everything shifted. In one heartbeat she became vertical, the blanket and sheets falling off around her as an unseen force lifted her in the air. She floated, closer and closer to the eyes and the teeth, a scream bubbling inside her. The creature¡¯s breath was hot on her cheeks. It reeked of poison, and Edana¡¯s heart fluttered as memory of Honoria¡¯s poison mist overtook her. The teeth moved again. ¡°You cost me what I was due in Valentis. Now you will pay: I know your fears, Edana. You gave them to me as you slept. What you fear most, this night it begins.¡± Undoubtedly she would have passed out, but for Escamilla¡¯s iron control of her person. The teeth parted in a strange way, as if the teeth themselves were lips¡ªthey curved, upward, in a ghastly smile. ¡°I will tell you how it ends¡­¡± The words roiled over her, assaulting her with the cacophony of an infernal language that scourged her skin, the wounds seeping into her very spirit. Once again Edana knew the fear of death. Swiftly came an overwhelming silence. Edana flew back, swatted as one swats a fly, landing hard in her pillows. However, Escamilla still locked gazes with her, and she could not look away. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. At last the screams poured out. Darkness overtook her, and then¡ª ¡°Edana! Edana! Edana!¡± Edana¡¯s eyes flew open. A chilling sweat drenched her, even as she shuddered helplessly. Lady Nensela loomed over her, the glowlight in her hand illuminating the gleam of her very human eyes. Eyes she now opened wide in concern. Edana sat up, with such vigor that Lady Nensela jumped back. For several moments Edana caught her breath, gulping in the fresh air. She flung out her arm, jabbing a finger at the foot of her bed. ¡°He¡¯s¡ª¡± She froze. Escamilla was gone. Only the spymaster Ziri stood in his place, a short sword in his hand, and worry in his face. ¡°Let the nightmare pass,¡± Lady Nensela said, taking Edana¡¯s hand in hers. ¡°It¡¯s over. You¡¯ll be¡ª¡± ¡°No.¡± Edana clutched the seer¡¯s arm so fiercely the woman gasped. ¡°Escamilla was here. And now he¡¯s going after Bessa!¡±
Marshalling every bit of her persuasive power, Lady Nensela managed to convince Edana not to run out into the night to the townhouse where Bessa¡¯s theater group was staying. ¡°Fine prey you would make, if you ran about when bandits roam,¡± Lady Nensela pointed out. ¡°Whence comes your certainty Escamilla doesn¡¯t intend for his cutthroats to intercept you on your way?¡± Though Edana¡¯s heart was still threatening to break her rib cage, her trembling had stopped. Lady Nensela curled up beside Edana and clasped her arms about her, patting her on the back as Edana recounted the dream. From the chair he had dragged over to Edana¡¯s bed, Ziri listened, rapt. ¡°Please, we need to go now. This wasn¡¯t a simple dream, the fellshade did visit me.¡± ¡°I believe you,¡± Lady Nensela said. She squeezed Edana¡¯s hand. ¡°Such things have happened before.¡± ¡°Time is of the essence; Bessa only has until next dawn. How can you say I must wait?¡± ¡°I do not walk onto a battlefield unarmed,¡± Lady Nensela retorted. ¡°The Erebossan visited you in a dream, because he cannot visit you in the flesh. On his own, he cannot carry out his threats. He needs his men. Ready yourself, Edana. We¡¯ll see to Bessa. At first light we¡¯ll go.¡± The house where Bessa was staying was in an uproar when Edana arrived. No one paid attention to her as she darted upstairs. When Bessa joined Brison¡¯s troupe, Lady Nensela had designated her slave girl, Monica, as their liaison. That is she would stay with Bessa, hidden in plain sight by posing as her slave to pass messages from Bessa to her and the others. At dawn, Monica sent word. Bessa could not move. And she could barely speak. A Restorite healer had arrived only moments before Edana. She met him at Bessa¡¯s door, where Brison was pacing anxiously. Brison had eyes only for the physician. He seized the man, pinning both arms to his sides. The healer yelped in surprise, but Brison didn¡¯t allow him a chance to talk. Words poured out of him like a river from a burst dam, all about how Bessa had never so much as sneezed before. A scream of agony cut him off. Brison flung open the door and charged inside. Monica stood over Bessa, soothing her. Bessa had stopped screaming, but she lay so rigidly straight in her bed that Edana¡¯s own bones ached. Her body I will leave with you. Her mind I will torment as I please. Edana shuddered. The healer, grey-haired and no-nonsense looking, regained his composure. Advancing to Bessa¡¯s side, he looked her over with a practiced eye. Briskly, he checked her pulse. ¡°Can you speak, young lady?¡± ¡°... Yes ...¡± Calm yet grim, the healer examined her limbs and checked her pulse again. At a word from him, a flash of light and heat burst over Bessa¡¯s heart. The Restorite narrowed his eyes. ¡°Seems someone¡¯s cursed you, girl. Keep you from moving or speaking. Do you have any enemies, any rivals?¡± A strangled cry from the door drew their attention. A woman with dark brown hair and large grey eyes was staring at them in shock and horror. All color drained from her face. Brison snarled and stalked over to her. ¡°Daphne¡ª¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t¡ª!¡± Brison grabbed her upper arms, forcing her to look up at him. ¡°Don¡¯t lie! You swore you destroyed it!¡± Daphne made no attempt to free herself. ¡°I did! By Aletheia I swear I got rid of it.¡± With wet beseeching eyes she looked from Brison to Bessa. From the corner of her eye, Bessa returned her stare. ¡°Young miss, you made a curse doll of my patient?¡± the physician demanded. The actress only had eyes for Bessa, and Edana saw no hatred or malice in them. Daphne hung her head, her cheeks flushed. With shame? ¡°Yes, I made a wax kolossos after Brison brought her to us,¡± she confessed. ¡°I was angry because I thought she had taken¡­I thought she had taken something from me. But I didn¡¯t go through with it,¡± she said, lifting her head to look Brison in the eyes. He still hadn¡¯t released her. ¡°By Aletheia I swear never cursed her,¡± Daphne continued. ¡°The gods know I wanted to ¡­ but I didn¡¯t. And then you found it. And you made me promise to work with Ruby and give her a chance. So I took the curse doll to the Restorer¡¯s temple. They helped me dispose of it without harming her. May Aletheia Herself cast my soul to the Abyssal Serpent if I lie!¡± Wrangling free of Brison, Daphne dashed over to Bessa¡¯s desk and seized an iron stylus. With one vicious slash the flesh of her palm opened, sealing Daphne¡¯s curse upon herself in her own blood. Silence. For a long while Brison stared at Daphne. His nostrils flared, and his breaths came hard and ragged. Enough. Turning to the healer Edana asked, ¡°What can be done for her?¡± For the first time Brison noticed her, and he gave a start. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Keeping her eyes on the doctor Edana improvised, ¡°Ruby invited me here for breakfast. Healer, I will pay for whatever remedy you recommend.¡± The physician sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°Here¡¯s the difficulty: the average binding keeps a person, Erebossi, or god from committing a specific action. Say a poisoner bound me from curing the victim, like. Other times, you¡¯re bound to do what you don¡¯t want, like marry some pathetic wastrel. For this girl the binding is purely an assault. A cruel one at that.¡± ¡°Why would someone do that to her?¡± Brison demanded. ¡°Son, my schooling is in mending hearts, not in divining the motives that power them. Does she have rivals? Other than this young lady?¡± A nod at Daphne, to whom he beckoned. Before Brison could reply, Edana cut in. ¡°What can we do? How do we end the curse?¡± ¡°Find the curse doll and deactivate it,¡± he replied, pulling out a bottle and strip of cloth from his bag. ¡°With a bit of time I can heal her paralysis and soothe her pain, but the underlying curse will lurk about. And what I do will be for nothing if you don¡¯t find who cursed her, and stop them from repeating themselves.¡± He began ministering a salve to Daphne¡¯s cut. Eying Daphne, Brison asked, ¡°What about uh, a counter-curse doll? One that stops the enemy¡¯s curse, and does to them what they¡¯re doing to Ruby?¡± A thought struck Edana, and her heart jumped in her mouth as she hurried to Bessa¡¯s bedside. I¡¯ll stalk her in her dreams. Bessa¡¯s eyelashes fluttered, as if she were struggling to stay awake. She had paled to a ghostly white, the only outward sign of her battle with Escamilla. Edana pushed up the sleeve of Bessa¡¯s nightgown, revealing a silver bracelet. Before leaving Kyanopolis Edana commissioned her silversmiths to make bracelets for herself, Bessa, Lady Nensela, and Ziri. All of the bracelets were engraved with an Eitanite symbol that represented life. Though Bessa gave no allegiance to the Sower, she believed in His power. She believed, because she had faith in Edana. ¡°Don¡¯t take this off,¡± Edana said, tapping the bracelet. ¡°No matter what happens, keep it on her.¡± Brison hurried over. He glanced from Bessa¡¯s bracelet to his own. After Atreus¡¯s intervention, Bessa traded on his notoriety in the silver business as a pretext for passing out more bracelets to Brison and the others. More, she had told them what the symbols meant. Now Brison turned to the physician, a question in his eyes. ¡°Ah, effective protection from death powers. Sadly, it¡¯s no protection from the powers that make you beg for death. Find the doll.¡± Hope kindled in Edana. Escamilla had sounded so powerful, targeting Bessa¡¯s dreams. Now Edana saw he had no choice: she had barred him from outright killing Bessa. Only when Bessa focused on her did Edana speak, saying, ¡°Rest now. Dream of me destroying the one who did this to you, and of how I will make him suffer.¡± Now she saw it. That look she remembered in Bessa¡¯s grandmother, Matrona Aurelia, the indomitable determination that inspired her nickname, Matrona Iron Eyes. That look blazed in Bessa¡¯s amber eyes, bright and fierce. And then her eyes closed, sleep overtaking her. But on her terms, at her choosing. Suddenly, Monica cried out, drawing their attention. The girl was pointing at Bessa¡¯s vanity table. Perfume bottles and alabaster jars of unguents scented with sweet rush, myrtle, violets, a dash of spikenard and other fragrances, were all neatly lined up against the mirror. In front lay Bessa¡¯s cosmetics and her combs. ¡°What is it?¡± Brison asked. ¡°One of her combs is missing. The one with the nightingale carved on it. I combed her hair with it last night and put it back on the table like always. It¡¯s not here now.¡± The girl¡¯s lips trembled as she spoke. Taking the girl in her arms, Edana murmured soothing words. Her mind raced, and the hope inside her sparked a small flame: here was proof Escamilla did require a human agent to carry out his threats. More, Bessa¡¯s decision to go ¡°incognita¡± kept Escamilla¡¯s minions from knowing her true name, which may have blunted the curse. And if Bessa¡¯s suffering was the blunted version, how much worse would the full effect have been? Edana shuddered. Brison slammed his fist into his palm. ¡°Son-of-a¡ª! They took her hair. Someone got in here and took her hair. They needed it for the curse, didn¡¯t they?¡± He turned to the Restorite healer, who had finished binding up Daphne¡¯s wound. ¡°To ensure its potency, yes,¡± the physician agreed. ¡°So long as they have her hair, they have a way of striking at her.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll set a guard on her room,¡± Brison said. ¡°They won¡¯t get in again.¡± Before she left, Edana took the physician aside. ¡°You could find out what the curse was, couldn¡¯t you? And who set it?¡± He inhaled, but said nothing. ¡°You could. But you can¡¯t now, can you?¡± she pressed. ¡°You can¡¯t talk to the spirits and ask who set the curse?¡± His eyes widened. ¡°How did you know? I thought your people won¡¯t have congress with sorcery?¡± ¡°No we don¡¯t,¡± she agreed. ¡°Still, I know you sorcerers cannot talk to the spirits these days.¡± ¡°I¡¯m no exception,¡± he said glumly, shaking his head. ¡°It¡¯s as if something is blocking me.¡± ¡°Something is blocking you. An opposing force. For now, all I can say is to be on your guard.¡± Edana hurried back to Lady Nensela¡¯s, where she explained the situation. Immediately, Ziri dispatched one of his echomancers to Bessa¡¯s villa. ¡°Finding out who stole the comb won¡¯t be a challenge,¡± Ziri said. ¡°But the physician is right, we need to find the curse doll. Probably it¡¯s in a fresh grave, since that¡¯s where these kind of things are usually dropped. The gods wouldn¡¯t have cooperated with this attack on Bessa, only the lower spirits, the eneroi. So that¡¯s where we¡¯ll start.¡± Faultless reasoning, Edana judged. As she understood it, Amyntas would not honor a curse doll intended to harm others, but someone might try to bind Aletheia in order to conceal the truth. Supposedly the Destroyer would aid in retributive curses, but depositing a curse in His temple was dangerous. It was said He was just as likely to turn on the one making the curse if the curse originated in pettiness, spite, or malice. Ziri divided the Star Dragons into teams of three, to search the usual places for a curse doll to be hidden: the necropolis, the wells, and the sewers. Edana joined the search. For an entire day she scoured the killing fields of the executed, and the necropolis outside of town. Like a jackal, she thought. Nothing. Oh, all three teams found curse tablets and curse dolls, but they were curses intended for other people, as evidenced by the names inscribed upon the tablets or coffins containing the curse dolls. Worse, Ziri had sent along a sylph to relay a new message from Monica: a new servant at the villa had gone missing. Ziri¡¯s echomancer successfully tracked him down. To a dead end: in his room at an inn, the so-called slave was bitten by an asp. Worse, a crow then flew into the room and made off with the comb. Obviously, Escamilla must have a beast master in his pay. Edana was shaking with rage and terror as she crossed the threshold into Nensela¡¯s estate. The sky had turned from blue to a gorgeous hepatizon as the sun sank below the horizon. The sun was down. The sun was down, and she hadn¡¯t found Escamilla or the doll. Come the dawn, nothing would undo Bessa¡¯s paralysis. So gloated Escamilla. Until the day she died, Bessa would be trapped inside herself, tormented in her mind by the fellshade when she waked, and in her dreams as she slept. Unless you show her mercy and kill her, Escamilla had taunted. And it must be you who kills her. Edana found Lady Nensela on a terrace overlooking the Bay of Rasena. The seer was inspecting new arrows her fletcher had made for her. She stared critically down the ebony shafts as she checked each one for even the slightest bend. ¡°We¡¯re on the wrong track,¡± Edana said without preamble. ¡°Obviously Escamilla¡¯s people did not put a curse doll where any normal person would. All day I kept thinking about the First Infernal having a portal in her home. But none of Escamilla¡¯s people have portals in theirs, so far as we know. Halie said he¡¯s not anywhere on Thuraia, but he can¡¯t materialize from Erebossa to any place he pleases, can he?¡± Silently, Lady Nensela offered Edana a cup of wine she had kept beside her. Edana gladly drank it. Consumed by her quest, she had neglected food, and would have forgotten to drink water if the other Star Dragons hadn¡¯t offered her their flasks. The wine went down smoothly, but for once she was too preoccupied to taste it. Lady Nensela replied, ¡°No, he can¡¯t appear anywhere; he¡¯s still a progeny of the Abyssal Serpent, and still needs to be summoned. As to where the circle or portal might be? Let¡¯s consider his original goals: we assumed he wanted to make a sacrifice of Valentis. You recall the Red Daggers bound Halie with asrai? An elegant sacrilege, no? Would Escamilla do less with Valentis?¡± After a moment¡¯s thought Edana asked, ¡°The Restorer¡¯s temple? Instead of saving lives, Escamilla would be taking them.¡± Glow lamps posted at intervals on the terrace bloomed as the sun disappeared on the horizon, allowing Lady Nensela to continue her inspection of her arrows. ¡°Yes, I thought of that,¡± she replied. ¡°But I am not sure. Valentis was founded a good, oh, five or six hundred years before the Fourth Cataclysm? Yes, in those days. The people we now call Valentians arrived here, carrying their little bronze axes.¡± Moving on from the shafts, she now began to examine the fletching on her arrows. The feathers shimmered a bright copper. Wing feathers of the peacock, Lady Nensela¡¯s preferred fletching. Edana arched an eyebrow. Somehow, Lady Nensela made warlike barbarians sound so adorable. ¡°Did you happen to meet them then?¡± To Edana¡¯s surprise, the seer looked surprised by the question. Then she laughed. ¡°No, child. I was not in this part of the world in those days. The founding of Valentis wasn¡¯t even worthy of gossip, so the news did not reach me in Eitan, where I was living in exile. Ask me about it later. What I do recall is that before the Fourth Cataclysm, it was fashionable for would-be conquerors to carry idols of Khratu.¡± Exile? Edana arched an eyebrow again, but tamped down hard on her curiosity. If she were to hear of that chapter in Lady Nensela¡¯s life, Bessa should be there for it. Knowing Bessa, she would turn the tale into an epic poem, a sweeping tale of romance and adventure, honor and duty. But Khratu was the important point. Edana followed Lady Nensela¡¯s gaze to Khratu¡¯s temple, gleaming white in the moonlight from its perch atop the highest hillside in Valentis. A tour guide had told her it was the oldest building in the city, dating to the city¡¯s founding. ¡°And the emperors of Rasena Valentis are His high priests,¡± Edana said, her voice rising as her excitement grew. ¡°Moreover, in the stories of the gods, Khratu is the strategist They turn to in battle. And so ¡­¡± Of course it was not quite so simple. Retrieving the doll would not be enough. Escamilla needed to be defeated, thoroughly and utterly. And Edana knew just how to finish him. Chapter 33: Retribution Chapter XXXIII Retribution In which Edana turns the tables Edana summoned fresh Star Dragons, a group of eight, sending half to Khratu¡¯s temple. The other half escorted her to the home of a priest. After Edana¡¯s experience with the First Abyssal she had brooded over a story her father once told her. When she first arrived in Valentis she made discreet inquiries until she located a priest steeped in the lore of the Speaker. It was he whom she turned to now. ¡°Please, may it not be in vain,¡± she prayed. ¡°My child,¡± he said when she finished. ¡°I feel your plight greatly, I do.¡± Edana¡¯s heart sank. ¡°You¡¯re not going to give it to me, are you?¡± He rose from his chair. The priest had received her in his own home, near the Sower¡¯s temple. His wife was bustling about, preparing their children for bed. At their mother¡¯s command the little girls reluctantly abandoned their dolls, which they artfully arranged in a tableau featuring toy gryphons and chariots. Edana hated to discuss Erebossa and curses in such a place, but the priest seemed more pitying than perturbed. ¡°No one in living memory has done the rites you require,¡± he fretted. He headed for the scroll cases he kept in a cabinet, high enough¡ªhypothetically¡ªto protect them from his four-year-old twins. ¡°But surely the knowledge is preserved?¡± He pulled down one box. The perfume of cedar wafted out when he opened it. The priest flicked through the tags at the end of each scroll, rejecting several until at last he pulled out the one he sought. ¡°Not here,¡± he answered finally. ¡°None of my scrolls mention the rites. But what we need¡ªwhat you need¡ªmay still exist. Let me see.¡± He unfurled the scroll, setting it rolling across the length of the table. It stopped barely short of falling off the edge. Edana joined him. The ink hadn¡¯t faded, thank the Sower. But the script form was older than she was used to seeing, and she had to concentrate to make the words intelligible to her own eyes. ¡°Here,¡± the priest said, pointing a long index finger at a particular passage. He tapped the passage, emphasizing his point. ¡°The final cylinder is in Eitan. This says the weapon still survives, and is kept in the Great Fane. With instructions.¡± Edana¡¯s heart sank further. No portal connected Eitan with any part of the empire. Even if Escamilla were generous in his deadline, she would need at least a month to cross over the Sky Guard Mountains on foot. If she managed it before the first snows fell. Less if she hired a dragon-riding beast master to take her. The sailing season would end shortly; she would have no other recourse. But Escamilla was not generous. Her insides froze, and all hope began to fade. I know what you fear, Escamilla taunted. You told me in your dreams. Frequently, Edana had nightmares where Bessa, too, died before her eyes. Just as Mama had. Escamilla couldn¡¯t kill Bessa. But he had gone out of his way to try to force Edana to kill her instead, knowing he would be destroying two of his enemies as they had destroyed two of his kind. But then inspiration struck. ¡°Thank you,¡± Edana said calmly. ¡°May I ask one favor of you?¡± Nearly two hours later she stood in Lady Nensela¡¯s oraculum. In one hand she clutched a scroll case. Ziri and Lady Nensela stood next to her, staring at the stars reflected in the pool. ¡°Are you sure about this? There¡¯s no reason to believe they¡¯d agree to your plan,¡± Ziri pointed out. Edana waved the scroll case at him. ¡°Leverage. I only need you to do your part.¡± ¡°I will go with you,¡± Lady Nensela said, surprising them both. ¡°I have not been to Elon for so long a time. More to the point, you said the priest believed no one in living memory has done the rites. I suppose he meant no living Eitanite?¡± Lady Nensela¡¯s lips curved, and Edana¡¯s heart somersaulted. For the first time she saw the glorious consequences of having an immortal friend. Even better, the flicker of hope that had cooled to embers now roared back, bigger than before. ¡°You both need to hold hands with me,¡± Ziri said. ¡°How does this work?¡± Edana asked. She accepted an outstretched hand as Lady Nensela clasped the other. Ziri¡¯s grip was strong and firm. Ziri shrugged. ¡°No time for the long answer. Short answer: trust me.¡± ¡°Ah. Yes. Well, will we get wet?¡± Edana shook her scroll case, deliberately chosen because the goatskin exterior was proof against water. ¡°Oh. No worries there,¡± he assured her. Suddenly, the water in the pool was rushing toward them. Before she could even blink, Edana¡¯s gulp became a gasp. No longer did they stand in Lady Nensela¡¯s oraculum. Before them now was a spring surrounded by lush vegetation. And, true to Ziri¡¯s promise, the trio was completely dry. A cool breeze caressed Edana¡¯s cheek, and brought along the perfume of night-blooming flowers. ¡°Ah,¡± Lady Nensela sighed. ¡°Elon.¡± Slowly she turned about, taking in the view. Edana did the same. The walls of a great city loomed in the distance, reflecting blue in the light of the moon. So there was Elon. So this was Eitan! Here she stood now, in her father¡¯s land. Had he ever looked upon those ancient walls? Bessa would want Edana to soak in every detail so she could relay enough for the city to serve as a setting in Bessa¡¯s stories. But first Edana had to save her. Quickly. She had marked the time before they left; they were now on the other side of midnight. Dawn would come all too soon. Traveling at a brisk pace, they reached the city gates in less than an hour. Seeing the high priest was not so simple; however. His own servants refused to awaken him at first, insisting the group return at dawn. ¡°Like civilized people! For decency¡¯s sake!¡± ¡°Dawn will be too late,¡± Edana insisted, all of her terror and heartache coming to the fore. The adamantine stoicism that had always been her shield shattered in the face of the slaves¡¯ stony gazes. The high priest himself was stone-faced when they brought him to her in his receiving room. He snatched from her hands the letter of introduction the priest in Valentis had prepared for her. The letter crumpled in his fists when he finished reading. ¡°Your name is Edana?¡± His lips curled in obvious distaste at her Siluran name. He spoke in Pelasgian, not in the Eitanite tongue, and Edana suspected he had not done so out of respect for Lady Nensela and Ziri. Edana swallowed hard, but met his gaze forthrightly. ¡°Correct, Edana Nuriel. Born in Silura, far from my father¡¯s birthplace in the Blue Crescent, where he was one of the Taken.¡± When he said nothing she continued. He kept his arms folded over his chest, and glared at her through slitted eyes. In icy silence he listened as she explained what she wanted and why. ¡°Was it too much bother for your father to teach you our ways? To think you would dare imagine using the cylinder in any vain errand! Such sacrilege.¡± Edana folded her hands, and considered what she would say. Contempt radiated from the priest, but she was not moved. What was mere contempt compared to the First Abyssal? And where was the First Abyssal now? ¡°Eminence, I have great respect for the cylinder¡¯s purpose. I seek only to use it for the very purpose for which the Sower had us create them: fellshades¡ªsleepless enemies¡ªwalk this world in bodily form. Am I to permit one to do as it pleases?¡± ¡°Can it trouble those who have not put themselves in its hands?¡± Ah. Never did she imagine a priest might be naive enough to believe bad things only happened to bad people. But likely he was offended by the ¡®barbarian¡¯ half of her heritage. ¡°Yes,¡± she answered. ¡°Of course they can, and do. Don¡¯t they seek to destroy their enemies? And the prey of this sleepless enemy is one who has already defeated two of its faction.¡± She eyed him. Where the wicked were concerned, the Scrolls were steadfast on an important point: they could not vanquish fellshades. They could ally with fellshades, be enslaved by fellshades, but they could not vanquish fellshades. The priest blinked, brought up short. He turned on his heel, breaking the withering stare he¡¯d fixed on her the whole time. When he turned back to see her his eyes were clouded, and his face had lost its sternness. ¡°If I give you the cylinder, it will not be available for Eitan when the need arises.¡± Edana felt Nensela stir behind her, but she kept her eyes on the priest. She had carefully avoided looking at her companions; the high priest¡¯s conduct profoundly shamed her. She considered how respectfully Bessa had spoken to her maternal grandparents, even as their insular stance went against everything Bessa believed. ¡°Your eminence, three sleepless enemies are abroad,¡± Edana said at last, copying the firm-yet-deferential tone Bessa had used with her grandparents. Inwardly, she was pleased she managed to keep the bite out of her voice. ¡°The Scrolls tell us if you know of a thing, you are accountable, so by my reckoning I must ask this favor of you. Please understand, I¡¯m not hunting fellshades who make deals with simpleminded sorcerers: I am after eidolons who are actively preparing the ground for an invasion into our world.¡± The priest blanched, and Edana deliberately let the silence stretch. In silence she studied him, watching the comprehension dawn on his face he re-read the letter she¡¯d brought him. After he rolled up the little scroll he made a small gesture with his hand, which she interpreted as an invitation to speak again. ¡°What I know is where to find one enemy now; we¡¯re still hunting the other two. Yield the cylinder, and you protect Eitan and everyone else. Keep the cylinder¡±¡ªshe met his eyes¡ª¡°and you can¡¯t rightly claim innocence when agents of Erebossa unleash the full brunt of their schemes.¡± All during their exchange, Lady Nensela kept her silence. Now she stepped forward, regal and formidable. The priest eyed her warily. The only sign of Lady Nensela¡¯s anger was her cool, measured tone. ¡°Wast thou there, Eminent One, when the cylinders were constructed? In this age, is it no longer known that only the Sower¡¯s own can wield the cylinders? Do I understand thou believeth my companion is unknown to the Sower, solely because of her name? Come, O learned father: a foreign name is no rare and unusual thing amongst thy people. If I know this, thou must know it also.¡± She spoke the Eitanite language in what was now the liturgical register¡ªwhich would have been everyday speech when she first learned it. The priest narrowed his eyes. ¡°Are you claiming to be¡ª¡± This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°Nensela of Ta-Seti, at thy service.¡± Her stare was not withering. It was more subtle in its reproach than that, but Edana¡¯s neck prickled all the same. For several heartbeats the priest shifted his weight, before ultimately inclining his head in respect. Accepting Lady Nensela¡¯s claim. And the consequences. ¡°Your service to our people is known to me,¡± he said at last, and again Edana wondered why Lady Nensela was exiled to Eitan, and what she did while there. ¡°I will not cross one the Sower Himself gave honor to. You may take the cylinder.¡± It took more time than Edana liked for the temple keepers to retrieve the cylinder; but soon enough she and her companions were back in Valentis. A carriage was already waiting for them when they returned to Lady Nensela¡¯s house. Edana delayed only long enough to fetch one other item. The sacrificial grounds lay at the edge of the summit of Khratu¡¯s Hill. There they were met by the Star Dragons Edana had sent ahead. The arcana assured them no one had gone into the temple. ¡°But you should see this.¡± They led her to a steeply sloping ravine. At the bottom they found the mouth of a cave, which made Edana think of the Red Daggers¡¯ lair. A shudder rippled through her as memory of Gallo¡¯s compulsion spell came flooding back. Squaring her shoulders, she whispered to herself, ¡°I¡¯m a Star Dragon now.¡± By Pha?nna¡¯s grace, never again could anyone compel her with magic. Lady Nensela had her arrows ready, and the men unsheathed their weapons as well. One of the Star Dragons was a beast master. An owl peered at them from its perch on his shoulder. At his command, the owl flew into the cave, ahead of them. ¡°We will be alerted to any dangers,¡± he said. Into the darkness they walked, the owl¡¯s soft hooting guiding them. Though they carried glowlights, shadows pooled around everything the lights touched. Never for a moment did the group believe their lights revealed more than what the shadows concealed. The Star Dragons formed an infantry square with Edana, Lady Nensela, and Ziri in the hollow middle. Edana was glad for the formation; the hair on the back of her neck stood up when she realized the passage was so wide that even twelve men walking abreast wouldn¡¯t touch the sides at either end. Anything could be in the shadows. Lurking. Waiting. Just when Edana thought her nerves might break, the owl screeched. A screech followed by an exclamation, and expletives. ¡°What¡¯s this damn bird doing here?¡± Now before her was a cave chamber, illuminated by powerful glowlights. The sight of it took Edana¡¯s breath away. Striations, layers of stone in the wall seemed to undulate in the glare of glowlights. Large, pale grey pillars rose from floor to ceiling, forming a kind of colonnade from one end of the great cavern to the other. Like the columns of a temple. Instinct told Edana that this was Escamilla¡¯s base of operations even before she spotted the three men gathered near an altar. It was no holy altar, that much was obvious from the frieze carved into its base: dreadful arsh¡¯at?m cavorting about. Some monsters Edana recognized, the lamia in particular. Others she couldn¡¯t name, but they inspired her to pray she never saw them in the flesh. Near the altar, the men had drawn a circle on the floor, but it was too far away for her to make it out. She turned her attention to the men. Camping gear strewn about indicated the men had been stationed in the caves. Two of the men were sheathing their swords, but the third one still held his out, slack in his hand as he visually tracked the owl flitting about the cavern. The men didn¡¯t realize they were no longer alone until they saw Lady Nensela¡¯s arrow protruding from the first man¡¯s shoulder. Then the second man knelt, her next arrow taking him in the thigh. The third man started to charge them then stopped abruptly, seeing the Star Dragon men fan out around the women. He drove his sword into the ground, surrendering. He yelped in surprise when Lady Nensela¡¯s next arrow took him in his left shoulder. The first man cursed loud and long, but Lady Nensela ignored him to focus on the second man. He was wailing that she¡¯d poisoned him. ¡°Indeed I have,¡± she replied. ¡°Have no fear: you will not die. The question is whether you will want to live.¡± Silence. A sweet smile, and the seer looked downright girlish. ¡°You know I am immortal. For you this means one thing: I know poisons the lore of which is lost to the Restorites of this age. I know their antidotes. Do you understand?¡± The bandits fixed their eyes on her. ¡°What do you want?¡± the first grunted, clutching his shoulder. ¡°Your master, Escamilla. Summon him. Forthwith.¡±
Edana, Nensela, and Ziri took position around the circle. Drawn in blood, it turned out to be a labyrinth pattern housed inside a meander border. A little seed sat at the center of the labyrinth. The labyrinth¡¯s walls curved and curled in a serpentine wave. Serpentine, for the Abyssal Serpent. Seed, for the Sower. Death and life, the symbols, Edana had read, that always marked a nekromanteion¡ªa shadow gate. Ziri pointed at the symbols. ¡°Look at the border.¡± Edana squinted, studying the border for a few moments. Then she recoiled. What she¡¯d taken for a meander pattern was something else entirely. The more she looked at it, the more her skin crawled. What was it? ¡°It¡¯s shadow script. I suspect it¡¯s the name of the eidolon inhabiting Escamilla¡¯s body. I can¡¯t read this. People who can, are people you never give your back to, understand?¡± Ziri gave the order. Escamilla¡¯s men uttered the summoning spell. The Erebossan appeared in a puff of black smoke. He was still wearing the body of his human host, confirmation he still needed his fleshly cage to carry out his plans. And that he had, in fact, been in hiding. Edana looked him over. Were his body inhabited by a human spirit, its neglected condition would warn of imminent death. But though his cheeks were hollowed, his eyes sunk, his complexion sallow, and his face lacerated with wrinkles, Escamilla¡¯s host body would not die so long as the eidolon dwelt within it. Escamilla pursed his lips at Edana, and sighed when he saw his men trussed behind her. She stood beyond arm¡¯s reach from the circle, cradling the wool-wrapped cylinder. With the barest of glances at the package, Escamilla smiled. ¡°Kneel. Pledge your soul ¡­ if you would bargain for the life of your precious sister.¡± Edana glared at him. Was his gambit an attempt to maneuver her as¡ªshe glanced up¡ªthe one called the Supreme Strategos might maneuver an enemy? With her soul as the prize? ¡°There will be no bargaining. I will never bow or kneel to you. Nor will I beg.¡± He scoffed, ¡°You are neither a priestess nor a sorceress. No power that can stand against¡ª¡± Right then she yanked the cloth from the cylinder. Its silver had taken on a patina of age, which made the holy symbols raised in low relief upon it stand out all the more. The cylinder was no longer than a baby, and no wider in diameter than Edana¡¯s own hand. Yet she cradled it in her arms gently yet securely, as if it were a baby. Escamilla reared back. His pupils vanished as the whole of his eye sockets turned black, betraying his infernal nature. Calmly, Edana tapped the cylinder. ¡°Recognize this?¡± The eidolon bared his teeth. In a light, conversational tone Edana said, ¡°You told me how I should destroy you¡±¡ªshe nodded sharply and Escamilla¡¯s mouth clicked shut, aborting whatever he was about to say¡ª¡°when you chose Bessa as your target.¡± He canted his head and smirked. ¡°Trying to use my own words against me¡ª¡± ¡°She¡¯s loyal to the Reaper,¡± Edana continued, as if he hadn¡¯t said anything. ¡°If you don¡¯t know about the living, I¡¯ll tell you: farmers grow our wheat. They scythe them down. They divide the stalks from the grains by beating them with flails against a stone floor. Or they have their animals drag sharp-toothed boards through them, also against that stone. My father¡¯s people don¡¯t worship the Reaper. But they do harvest wheat, and so they call this the thresher.¡± She hefted the cylinder, and in the glowlights the symbols blazed. Now Escamilla folded his arms, though the effect was lost because his sleeves were so voluminous on him. Edana suppressed a smile. How the mighty had shrunk. ¡°Mortal, you think I will permit you to pulverize my body? Rip my essence away to trap it in your thresher?¡± ¡°As four others of your brethren were, in ages past? As I said, Bessa is the one who inspired your punishment. I saw what she would do to one who harmed her family, in keeping with our common heritage. My sister, as you said.¡± Escamilla¡¯s lips curled in a sneer. Because he was so busy posturing his contempt, he did not see the curved blade arcing in the air. Straight for his neck. Sharp, the scythe cleaved his head from his body. The body fell forward, thudding at Edana¡¯s feet outside the circle. At the same time, Edana promptly placed the cylinder in the circle, barring Escamilla¡¯s escape. Ziri, still holding the battle scythe Bessa¡¯s grandfather had designed for the giants, now used the blade to sweep the head to his own feet. Edana unsheathed one of her moonbow knives. The sigils etched on it glowed with white fire as she slammed it into Escamilla¡¯s body, all the way to the hilt. The fire flared higher with a flame that did not burn Edana ¡­ ¡­ but was clearly intolerable to the eidolon inside the body. The expected black cloud flew up, hovering in front of her face. The symbols of the thresher flared white. Nensela, who had waited off to the side, stepped forward now. She chanted, using an older form of the Eitanite language than Edana had ever heard before. White light lanced out from the cylinder, unerringly seeking and finding Escamilla¡¯s corpse. Encircled and trapped by the white light, the body disintegrated before their eyes, leaving no trace. But the infernal smoke had already fled. Fled the body, fled the circle, fled the holy light of the threshing cylinder. It fled to the only place that would readily receive it: the head at Ziri¡¯s feet. Edana retrieved her knife and stalked over to the head. Black smoke furled where the eyes should be. She snatched up the head and looked in the eyes, hoping Escamilla could read her thoughts. With the flat of her still-glowing knife she cauterized the stump of the neck. The mouth was next; she burned the lips shut. The smoke contracted. Acid green irises peered out of the eye sockets, roving to and fro. ¡°I have not left you a body,¡± Edana said, answering the question the now-mute Escamilla could not ask. ¡°Nor will I keep your spirit. You will dwell in this cage, unable to haunt anyone¡¯s dreams from this side of Erebossa, and unable to speak to the living. What comes next will torment you exquisitely ¡­ but I shall be pleased.¡±
It was already first light when they emerged from the caves. Before leaving, Edana found the curse doll on the altar, inside a lead coffin. The woolen doll¡¯s arms were folded across its chest, a typical binding posture. The inner lid of the coffin bore infernal writing that could only have been the curse. Once again Edana used her moonbow knife, and once more she called upon the Great Sower in a prayer. With holy fire she burned the coffin and the doll, destroying them utterly. Known as the Supreme Strategos, Khratu ¡ª so His faithful claimed ¡ª blessed His followers with inventive battle strategies. Lore and legends boasted of the sublime vengeance they wrought against enemies. To Edana¡¯s satisfaction, a calculating light came into the eyes of Khratu¡¯s priests when she gave them Escamilla¡¯s head. They enjoyed her explanation as to how she came to have it. As well, Nensela told them of her prophecy, and Escamilla¡¯s role in it. The priests graciously received Escamilla¡¯s servants, who were still bound and gagged. ¡°I leave it to you to avenge the desecration of your temple grounds,¡± Edana said. The sun had fully risen by the time Edana, Nensela and Ziri descended the temple¡¯s hill. A soft golden haze was settling over the city. Glowlights winked out like fireflies on streets and houses, as soon as the sunlight hit them. When Edana arrived, Brison himself let her in. As though it were a pass token, she showed him Bessa¡¯s comb, which Escamilla¡¯s men had scattered not far from the altar. Edana also took the strands of hair she¡¯d rescued from the curse coffin. Bessa¡¯s red gold hair was unusual in this part of Rasena Valentis. So was Edana¡¯s auburn for that matter, but Bessa¡¯s was brighter. Seeing the hair and the comb, Brison¡¯s grin could have lit a small room. Bessa was awake, he said, and he escorted Edana to her bedroom, jauntily taking the stairs two at a time. True to Brison¡¯s word, two guardsmen were keeping watch at Bessa¡¯s door. They let Edana pass, and Brison waved to Bessa, who was sitting in bed with her head propped against her pillows. She was staring at nothing, her face pensive as Monica attended to her. At Brison¡¯s greeting she looked over, and her eyes brightened when she saw Edana. Brison left them alone. Edana hurried over to her. ¡°Bessa, I¡¯m so sorry. I tried to stop him as soon as I could¡ª¡± Now that she¡¯d defeated the Third Abyssal, Edana refused to speak his name if she could help it. Bessa closed her eyes, leaning back into her pillows. Her natural color had not returned to her face, and she sounded profoundly exhausted when she spoke. ¡°I know. He chased me in my dreams. He meant for me to give up, to die. But I could not imagine facing my parents, my mother in particular, and telling them I died so easily. Especially when I knew you would stop him. And suddenly he vanished, and I woke up.¡± Monica brought in a bowl of sweet chestnut porridge. By the aroma, Edana knew the porridge had been spiced with rue, pennyroyal, peppers, and silphium, with a touch of honey for sweetness. Just as Bessa liked it. Edana took the bowl from Monica and drew up a chair next to the bed. As she fed Bessa, Edana told her of all that came to pass. After a while, Bessa had regained enough of herself to joke that she felt as if she¡¯d first run a marathon, then fought off three lions before scaling a mountain. Edana finished her story as she scraped up the last of the porridge. In silence, Bessa digested the meal. Finally she asked, ¡°So you didn¡¯t need the cylinder after all?¡± Her eyes were closed, but she didn¡¯t sound drowsy. ¡°Oh, I did. I wanted to destroy his body, and that¡¯s what the threshers do: separate the body from the eidolon inhabiting it. But in the ancient days the sleepless enemies used indestructible constructs, not a living person. The thresher is a weapon an Eitanite would use.¡± Bessa opened one eye. ¡°But ¡­?¡± Edana could not help her smile. ¡°A Siluran would cut off an enemy¡¯s head to bind his soul and spirit within it. I used the thresher to sow and stoke fear in the fellshade. He needed to fear my putting him in it. Unfortunately for him, he didn¡¯t consider I might trap him in the skull instead.¡± ¡°Like a Siluran.¡± Bessa smiled. ¡°Hmm. That means you used his fear against him. Oh, nicely done.¡± Monica pressed a cup into Edana¡¯s hand. One whiff of the contents, and Edana¡¯s nose wrinkled. Hot valerian water, which reeked like a sewer. In Bessa¡¯s condition, the valerian might make her sleep too deeply for nightmares. But Bessa pushed away the cup when Edana put it to her lips. ¡°I won¡¯t need that,¡± she mumbled. ¡°Before I was fighting sleep. Now I can rest.¡± Edana set the cup aside and patted Bessa¡¯s arm. Sometimes her own dreams were based on the last thing she thought about as she fell asleep. Therefore she said, ¡°Sleep well, Bessa. By the way, Lady Nensela promises to tell us all about her exile when you join us again. She says she will let you write about it, too.¡± Bessa¡¯s laugh, though feeble, left her with a smile on her face as she drifted off to sleep. Chapter 34: Drusus XXXIV Drusus In which Nensela¡¯s insight is vindicated Edana¡¯s vanquishing of Escamilla led to positive consequences, starting with Khratu¡¯s priests alerting the watchmen of their former commander¡¯s infernal possession. The watchmen in turn began their own investigations into Escamilla¡¯s activities. Soon after, they cleaned house. As intended, Bessa¡¯s play gave enough hints and clues that casual, well-placed observers could draw connections. None were better placed than the Watch¡¯s sub commander and the senior officers, all of whom Escamilla had sidelined, undermined, or hindered in some fashion. Silas Atreus¡¯s intervention on behalf of the Honey Cakes theater company proved to be another brick in their case, because the harassment against the company could all be traced to Escamilla himself. The Watch-officers rooted out all involved in the matter, and found more of Escamilla¡¯s arcana, some of whom carried paraphernalia among their gear pointing to forbidden Erebossan magic. The emperor insisted the findings be made public, including a trial in open court of Escamilla¡¯s allies. The people of Rasena crossed the bay to see the trial, which was held in the Arx Alarae, an ancient fortress where crimes against the empire were tried. Part of the citadel¡¯s complex included Alara¡¯s Horn, a clifftop where the guilty were thrown into the sea. In ancient days, the alicorn Alara fatally gored Solanus the Usurper on that very spot. True to their duty, the Destroyer¡¯s priests threw this latest cohort of betrayers from Alara¡¯s Horn as well. The capstone to the proceedings centered on the disposition of Escamilla¡¯s head, where the fellshade was still trapped. In this decision a Venator and a Marinite priest played a part. They put their own binding spells on the Erebossan, barring him forever from the Palace of Land and Sea. Halie herself returned to Valentis to see their judgment. As colossal sea dragons two of her brothers escorted her to Alara¡¯s Horn, a magnificent spectacle which left the city awestruck. When the sea dragons assumed the form of men, Khratu¡¯s priests turned Escamilla¡¯s head over to them. ¡°We will escort him personally to Yadon the Destroyer,¡± one dragon promised, palming the head in his powerful grip. Then the Sea Lord¡¯s sons shifted back to their draconic bodies, disappearing beneath the waves. The emperor publicly gave his assurances that any other infiltrators would be rooted out. He reiterated that suspected Erebossi were not to be confronted or killed. Instead, Tarkhana gave the call signs for a contact in his Drakon Guard who would take all tips. As oracula could be expensive to use, he also announced that each substation of the Watch would offer free tokens, no questions asked.
With the Third Abyssal no longer able to interfere, the theater was packed every day the Honey Cakes staged it, a triumph for Bessa. And, as in Karnassus, Bessa was sought out, and for the same reason as in Karnassus. The attention nearly overwhelmed her. Her heart skipped a beat, though, when people began to suggest her play would win the top prize at the Phoenix Festival next summer. When the emperor joined the audience, with much pomp and ceremony, the furor reached a crescendo. His attendance ensured that ¡®those who mattered¡¯ were obliged to attend, and be seen to attend, and to claim to attend as well. If the Fourth Abyssal were around he could not overcome those conditions, Bessa judged. He had to fight on the battlefield as she and her friends had set it up, and he was now down three allies. Brison was over the moon, so much so that Daphne successfully maneuvered to get them their own slaves to make the costumes. That this officially gave her a staff of her own to manage and fleshed out her sphere of responsibility was no doubt her real aim. From time to time Bessa favorably called to Brison¡¯s attention Daphne¡¯s handling of the costume and set design, citing the praises she was hearing from the audience. On her last round Brison stopped waving her off, and looked as if he himself had finally noticed Daphne¡¯s efforts. ¡°You have a delivery,¡± a messenger said. He handed Bessa a stack of letters. The letters bore seals. One in particular made her stop in her tracks. Bessa stared for a long while at it, her heart pounding. Her hands shook as she broke the seal and unfolded the letter. She read it once. She read it twice. Lady Nensela¡¯s prediction came back to her, and she read it a third time. The words remained the same; they said what they said. So. Mumbling an excuse to Brison, Bessa raced from the townhouse and hurried to Lady Nensela¡¯s Valentian estate. Fortunately Edana was there, enjoying a view of the ocean from the terrace while the servants were setting out a meal. ¡°Read this.¡± Bessa thrust the letter at her. In a sonorous voice Edana read, ¡°By order of the emperor, Drusus Caecilianus Tarkhana, you are summoned, O Ruby Lotus of Larissopolis. Well. Well.¡± She looked offinto the distance. ¡°Edana?¡± ¡°Do you have anything to wear?¡± ¡°Edana!¡± Edana laughed, something Bessa had not seen her do since her misadventures with Honoria. When Edana subsided she explained that she and Lady Nensela had received the same invitation. ¡°This is business,¡± she said. ¡°This is serious.¡±
When Bessa returned to her office she discovered the slave who had brought her mail couldn¡¯t resist gossiping: Everyone knew the emperor had written to her. Actors and actresses stared at her as she walked by. When she reached her office she found Brison and Daphne sitting at her desk. ¡°Are you in trouble?¡± Daphne demanded. She sounded genuinely worried. Ever since Escamilla¡¯s attack Daphne seemed more contrite, with none of her strict letter-of-the-law politeness she¡¯d used to keep Bessa at arm¡¯s length before. ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± Bessa answered. ¡°But the emperor came to the play,¡± Brison pointed out. ¡°Could he have been offended by something in it? Do you think he¡¯ll have us killed for treason?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of him doing that,¡± Bessa said, mustering conviction in her voice. Inwardly she cursed herself for paying scant attention to the current dynasty in her lessons. The Age of Heroes and Wonders, or the Seven Gates Era, either were much more fascinating compared to a far-off old man she grew up thinking would die ¡°any minute now¡±¡­ when she thought of him at all. Brison fretted, ¡°Maybe the victims¡¯ names were forbidden to be spoken, so that now none of us living remember them. The emperor has reigned, what a hundred years? A lot happens in a century.¡± ¡°Oh come, even I know he¡¯s only reigned sixty years. My grandparents never stop complaining about it,¡± Bessa said. Brison raised his eyebrows, and Daphne stared at her. Oh! Bessa shook herself. Right, her companions didn¡¯t know she was Siluran. Not that it mattered, they were so thoroughly of the empire that resenting it would seem strange to them. ¡°Speculating is pointless,¡± Bessa continued. ¡°Remember, we only portrayed the traitors in a negative light, along with the giants and abyssals, of course. The heroes embody Rasena Valentian virtues, which the emperor surely would approve of. And Brison¡ªif the emperor turns out to want to be a patron, please think it over. At least for now.¡± Daphne glanced at Brison. ¡°At least let¡¯s get everything packed, in case we need to run. And, um¡ªbe careful, Ruby.¡± Evening found Bessa pacing nervously on the covered porch in front of the townhouse. The emperor. In all her life she never expected to meet the supreme lord of Rasena Valentis. The sinister personage her elders groused about, or the marvelous personage praised by writers with the good fortune to be his clients. Usually she ignored either view, for she always preferred to make up her own mind rather than go by third or fourth hand accounts of others. But as she was never going to encounter Tarkhana to form her own judgment, there was little purpose in thinking of him. Or so she always thought. Bessa plucked at the folds of her gown, an indulgence she had bought in Karnassus. Fashioned from cloth-of-copper, and embroidered with beads of peach and cream in floral patterns along the hem, the part she loved most about the gown was the pleated, shimmersilk capelet about her shoulders. All in all, a less elaborate gown than the one she set aside for her own wedding, but still fit for meeting her emperor. The copper highlighted her hair, around which she wore a wreath of sweetly scented moonglow flowers. The small, pale blue blossoms did double duty as ornament and perfume for her hair. As a concession to her Ruby Lotus persona, her enameled earrings were shaped like lotus flowers. Other members of the troupe joined Bessa on the porch. Their murmurs reached a crescendo when at last the gates opened, admitting a fine carriage. Red and stately, the carriage came with a matching pair of fire drakes. No muzzle gated their mouths, warning enough their fire was held in check only by the honor guards controlling them. The guards were stern-faced men, impressively armored in electrum, and attired in black silk and leather. ¡°Nice ride,¡± an actor marveled. He whistled. Awestruck, Bessa nodded. She started forward, but strong fingers gripped her arm and pulled her back, eliciting a yelp of surprise from her. ¡°Brison?¡± she asked, after he spun her around to face him. He drew her away from the others. ¡°Please be careful,¡± he whispered. ¡°Relax, Brison. Look, if the emperor is angry¡ªwhich I¡¯m sure he¡¯s not¡ªthen I will make sure none of you are touched by his wrath.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not worried about us. I meant you should be careful. At the end of the day, your name is on this play. You have had one terrible enemy already. If the emperor¡ªwell, I would hate to lose you, Ruby.¡± Surprise stole her voice; all she could do was nod mutely before she turned away. Adapting a jauntiness she did not feel, Bessa descended from the porch and approached the carriage. The Reaper¡¯s moon shown down upon her. A footman opened the carriage for her, and helped her inside. ¡°Good evening,¡± Lady Nensela greeted. Edana slid aside to make room for Bessa. Bessa exhaled. The moment the footman shut the door she said, ¡°I¡¯ve tried to keep my people from panicking. They¡¯re convinced the emperor means to have our heads, because of the way I depict some of the characters.¡± ¡°How interesting your people know to fear the possibility,¡± Lady Nensela mused. ¡°In truth his predecessor was a man given to beheading people, some who were truly his enemies, and some whom he only imagined to be so. With respect, I am never sure what people with mortal life spans will remember from one generation to the next. Your institutional memories seem too short to me.¡± Edana asked, ¡°Do you know the emperor? You speak as if you know him well.¡± ¡°Well enough to assure you he is not a petty man, nor easily slighted. Your heads are safe. Discover the rest for yourself. Forgive me, but I have a great appreciation for surprises. Indulge me, if you please, and let the night unfold as it will.¡± Seat springs and luxurious upholstery ensured the women enjoyed a smooth ride to the palace. The younger women drew back the curtains so they could watch the scenery en route. Soon enough urban structures gave way to greenery, and Bessa¡¯s heart began to pound in earnest. They must be near the palace, she guessed. Correctly, as it turned out. Massive walls faced with white marble announced the palace before they came to impressive iron gates, which opened upon an avenue. Ancient trees formed graceful arches so thick and lush the moon¡¯s rays barely penetrated to the ground. Waiting for them at the end of the avenue was a gleaming, sparkling edifice of rose quartz and amethyst¡ªor so it seemed to Bessa¡¯s untutored eyes. Four crystalline spires flanked a central spire that dwarfed them, rising up to meet the sky. Lights ablaze in the windows signaled evenfall did not dim activity in the palace. In one of those towers, so the legends said, there once dwelt a mighty sorcerer-king. Death did not oblige the king to yield up his kingdom. No, said the stories, the sorcerer-king carefully hid himself in a secret chamber in one of the spires, a chamber with a mighty preservation enchantment placed upon it. There, in his secret chamber, the sorcerer-king lay himself to rest bodily. Leaving his soul free to wander the world as he pleased. Gathering to himself power, it was said, though the stories were silent on his purpose. All that mattered was that when the time was right, he would return to his body, and rule once more. Staring at the palace now, Bessa wondered: which tower might the sorcerer-king have lived in? What secrets did the palace contain? Then she banished the thought, focusing instead on the very present beauty she beheld. Once upon a time, the peninsula of Valentis was a mere settlement, which grew into a mighty city-state. A pearl nestled between two seas, backed by mountains. Here before her was the sword which guarded the pearl: the crystalline palace. Open doors revealed the splendor inside. Fragrant rose petals carpeted the entrance. The guards snapped their spears straight when the women approached, allowing them to pass. Inside, rose vines twined along marble columns lining the halls. Walls of mirrored silver gleamed between the columns. The ceilings rose high. High enough that Bessa stopped trying to guess how many six-foot-tall men would have to stand on each other¡¯s shoulders to reach the ceiling. Starlight twinkled on the walls and the floor, giving the scenery a magical cast. Intrigued, Bessa looked up. Ah, the starry effect came from starbursts cut into metal sheaths overlaying the glowlights which hung from the ceilings. Bessa resisted the urge to gape. From the look on Edana¡¯s face, Bessa knew the scenery was not lost on her, either. The throne room did not disappoint. Tall marble columns supported a frieze depicting glorious moments in the history of Rasena Valentis. Frescoes on the walls illustrated highlights of Tarkhana¡¯s reign. When Bessa came to one vignette she grabbed Edana¡¯s arm. Edana followed her gaze. Her jaw dropped as recognition bloomed. Both women turned to Lady Nensela, who was walking serenely ahead, nonchalant. ¡°So the fabled Artile was a gifted painter,¡± Bessa whispered. ¡°This is a lively likeness of Lady Nensela.¡± During their luncheon the women refreshed their knowledge of the current dynasty, courtesy of a scholar in residence at Lady Nensela¡¯s villa. He filled in a gap in their knowledge they never noticed before: the name of the foreign seer who crowned Tarkhana as emperor. ¡°Sixty-three years ago this happened,¡± Edana mused. ¡°To know someone so long. Truly that¡¯s a teardrop in the ocean for her, but even so, I¡¯m glad she¡¯s enjoyed a friendship as old as some people¡¯s grandparents.¡± ¡°May it be so for us, too,¡± Bessa agreed. An arresting idea, which made her contemplate how long she and Lysander might have together, if they should finally meet. Based on his age, she would have to hope he lived into his eighties if she planned on spending sixty-three years with him. While such longevity wasn¡¯t impossible for a mortal¡­all the same, she resolved to take Lady Nensela¡¯s advice and cherish whatever time she would have with him. As for Lady Nensela, the seer had outpaced them, and stood now by the emperor¡¯s side. Quickly Bessa and Edana reached the other end of the throne room. Bessa swallowed hard when it finally sank in that she was standing before the emperor. Emperor Tarkhana regarded them with a benign expression. Or rather, as benign as his leonine countenance could look. Sharp-angled, golden brown eyes glinted out of a long narrow face, set off by his knife-edge cheekbones and keen nose. His hair was swan white, and his robes blood red. The robes were not as elaborate as Bessa imagined they would be, but by their sheen she knew they were made of the finest linen available. She studied his face. The scribes wrote that he took the throne at twenty-seven, thus he was now ninety. Yet he looked no older than his fifties. Immortal blood must course through his veins, she decided. Ta-Setian was her first guess, but perhaps like Ziri he came from naiad stock. The blood of old Athyr-ai was also said to be in him, and their formidable priests were well-studied on the subject of immortality. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Tarkhana extended his scepter to Lady Nensela. ¡°Your Grace,¡± he drawled. How rich, how smooth, how deep his voice! ¡°I am overjoyed to have you in my court again at last. What wondrous endeavors have occupied you since last we met?¡± The seer¡¯s lips curved in a roguish smile, which the emperor returned. He glanced at Bessa and Edana. ¡°Do I understand correctly your intriguing companions are part of these endeavors?¡± ¡°The saviors of your empire,¡± Lady Nensela corrected. ¡°Drusus, I present to you Edana Nuriel, who selflessly left behind a successful business to take up weapons against the faction that threatens all of our lives. With her stands the one known as ¡®the Ruby Lotus of Larissopolis,¡¯ whose play you were said to enjoy.¡± ¡°I have enjoyed it. It is the talk of court. I quite like the fight scenes, ¡®Ruby.¡¯ I may have some suggestions from my own experience if you wish to add bit of spice to them.¡± Despite herself Bessa blurted, ¡°How did Lady Nensela come to crown you?¡± The scholar didn¡¯t have time to fill in every gap in her knowledge of the current dynasty. The emperor and the seer exchanged smiles again. He said, ¡°I noticed you admiring the fresco. An excellent likeness of her, is it not? Best of all, if I need to do touch-ups, she¡¯s still around to help my latest generation of artists. Pity Artile and his apprentices have gone to the Everlasting Lands.¡± Bessa persisted,¡°How did she come to crown you emperor, as a foreigner?¡± ¡°And a woman,¡± Edana added. Rasena Valentian women weren¡¯t supposed to be involved in politics. Not openly. Not officially. Lady Nensela shrugged. ¡°The ways of Rasena Valentis are not my ways. Where I am from, it is the responsibility of the women to crown the king. I crowned my brother.¡± Their heads swung over to the emperor, whose features failed to rearrange themselves to make him look like Lady Nensela. ¡°Not me,¡± he said. Amusement tinged his voice. ¡°But she is responsible for helping me take the throne in the first place. When a Seeker¡¯s Own strides into your camp in the middle of the night, and tells you that if you wish to be emperor to rise and follow her, you can¡¯t help but obey. Even curiosity must be satisfied. Mark well: this was the only time I disregarded my honorable mother¡¯s advice about following after ¡®strange women.¡¯¡± Bessa could not help a small smile. The emperor was human, after all. ¡°Why did you choose him?¡± Edana asked. Though she maintained an even tone, Bessa knew a small part of Edana must have felt betrayed. When was it ever said the Eitanim loved the emperor? No more often than it was ever said of Silurans, that was sure. ¡°Of all the threads on the loom, the one with Tarkhana as emperor led to the most favorable outcomes for Rasena Valentis. And beyond,¡± Lady Nensela replied. Beyond. Loyal to Rasena Valentis, Bessa considered the well-being of her fellow citizens the paramount priority of the emperor. Surely if Lady Nensela took upon herself to choose the sovereign of a people, she kept their interests topmost in her priorities? Was this not so? Or had she acted on behalf of her brother, or her own people first? Lady Nensela was eying her. Almost as if she read Bessa¡¯s thoughts she said, ¡°Temporal politics interest me but little. Above all other considerations I am the Seeker¡¯s instrument, and it is She who moves me to take the part of one person or another.¡± ¡°I am the least of many possible evils,¡± Tarkhana translated. His tone remained friendly as he said it, then he smiled as their faces betrayed their surprise. ¡°So young, so innocent are you. Let an old man advise: all people should count immortal prophets for their friends. Emperors in particular ought to do this. Such friends help you keep your outlook in its proper perspective, and your thoughts about your place in the world in a humbling light.¡± His gaze softened as he reached out to touch Lady Nensela¡¯s cheek. ¡°Lady Nensela, friend of my youth, will be here when my bones have turned to dust. Who can say if anything I have done will outlast that sad day? Might it not be that what I do here is simply a foundation for something of greater significance, and I may otherwise be forgotten?¡± He stared long at her, as if willing her to confirm or deny his belief. But she kept her silence. Her face was so still that for the first time Bessa began to sense the weight she carried, of living as an immortal who could see the beginnings of friends not yet born, and the endings of friends not yet lost. Perhaps Tarkhana sensed it, too, for he withdrew his hand. In a soft voice he said, ¡°I, too, am an instrument, for the purpose decreed by the gods. Had a greater instrument been available all those years ago, Nensela would have visited him instead of me when the camp fires blazed at night.¡± He stood, drawing himself up to a commanding height before gracefully stepping down from the dais to stand amongst them. He continued past, putting his back to them, scandalizing the Drakon Guard who stood closest to the throne. The guards snapped to, their bodies erect, poised to pounce. ¡°Over a month ago someone attempted to hasten my end. We will not speak of it here. Come.¡± Down grand corridors he led them, and up a flight of stairs, until at last they came to sumptuous apartments. Bessa studied every detail for the sake of relaying them later to any who asked¡ªand to add them to any future story she might write. ¡°Your letter vexed me,¡± Lady Nensela said as they walked. ¡°Scant were the details you offered me: that you were attacked in the night, but not the consequence, nor the perpetrator. May I trust the attack was other than a simple palace coup?¡± ¡°Come, Nensela: the day I cannot handle a coup is the day that I am dead. Let me show you something.¡± A huge mirror, encased in a gold frame carved to resemble valonian oak leaves, dominated the room he took them to. A large power scepter was sheathed in a container next to the mirror. Bessa cocked her head. The power scepter resembled the ones typically used to activate glowlights, in that it had a long electrum shaft topped with a five-pointed star. The star fascinated her: it was not constructed entirely of electrum; the metal was merely a setting for the sapphire jewel within. Sapphires, she knew, were valued by all the seers. The omnipower, they named it, for sapphire could aid prophets, scryers, and echomancers alike. Tarkhana noticed her looking at it. ¡°This is what I wanted to show you, an innovation imported from Lyrcania. I think you will appreciate this. Nensela.¡± He beckoned for her to join him at the mirror. She did so. Suddenly, her eyes widened and she stepped back. ¡°This is¡ªI sense a power. I can use any reflective object to contact people, but the power is only there when I will it to be. This is¡ªit¡¯s as if the power is always there, just waiting to be activated, like your oracula or glowlights.¡± Tarkhana handed her the scepter. Lady Nensela turned it over in her hands. Her eyes brightened as she caressed the sapphire. The emperor called their attention to the mirror frame. Inset into the frame on one side were discs similar to the ones used in the oracula machines. Instead of levers they moved by dials, as Tarkhana revealed when he gave Lady Nensela the coordinates. The coordinates included the gibbous phase of the moon, and the heliacal rise of Anemone, the brightest star in the Sylph constellation. ¡°The celestial alignment when you were attacked,¡± Lady Nensela observed. She finished twirling the dials then touched the mirror with the scepter. The mirror shimmered. The women gasped. Inside the mirror Tarkhana roamed about, in the same room they stood in now. This other Tarkhana wore a simple green tunic. In one hand he carried a codex, and in the other a murrhine cup of wine. Glowlights shone from the ceiling. An open window revealed it was first light outside. He sauntered over to the couch, festooned with cushions, and reclined. For a moment he paged restlessly through the manuscript. Presently two servants entered, bearing trays covered with domes. Lady Nensela tensed, but mirror-Tarkhana took no notice of them. Bessa and Edana frowned at the slaves. Something was not quite right about them. Abruptly their suspicions were vindicated: the men shimmered! The man with golden hair suddenly sported brown hair, and the one with a beard became clean-shaven in the twitch of an eye. Mirror-Tarkhana glanced over at the servants. He recoiled, then leapt to his feet. Just in time, for the servants uncovered the trays. Now uncovered, their short swords gleamed under the glowlights. The men locked eyes with Tarkana for one long moment. Then they charged. Bessa clasped a hand over her mouth. Mirror-Tarkhana bent down and gripped the rug, yanking it from under his would-be murderers. They tripped, narrowly avoiding impaling themselves and each other. In two long-legged strides Tarkhana reached them. Still shod in his sandals, his foot produced a satisfying crunch when he stomped on the blond-brunet¡¯s wrist. Immediately the blond-brunet let go of his sword. Beard-cleanface rose, thrusting his sword at Tarkhana from his position on the floor. Tarkhana adroitly dodged. What reflexes! Within a heartbeat he snatched the man¡¯s forearm, pulling him up and delivering a punch to the throat at the same time. Beard-cleanface was too stunned to stop Tarkhana from taking his sword. Nor could he stop Tarkhana from running him through with it. The blond-brunet scrambled back, clearly trying to get out of Tarkhana¡¯s reach. ¡°Who are you?¡± Mirror-Tarkhana demanded of him, as he brutally pulled the sword from beard-cleanface¡¯s stomach. The dead man thumped against the floor. Tarkhana fastened a cold stare upon his next prey. Bessa shivered. Blond-brunet¡¯s lips curled. ¡°We are the children. You are the motes. The servants will fall.¡± He pulled a long-knife from his boot. He was too late. Mirror-Tarkhana seized the man¡¯s knife-hand, yanking him into the reach of his own sword. Almost too fast to see, he drove his sword into blond-brunet¡¯s heart, all the way to the hilt. The action stopped, and Mirror-Tarkhana and his adversaries were frozen in place. After a moment Edana asked, ¡°That was real?¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± flesh-and-blood Tarkhana confirmed. ¡°The Lyrcanians have a way to allow seers to share visions and Sendings with others. In particular they have a company called ¡®Ellura,¡¯ whose artificers make devices such as this. My echomancers have had fun with this one.¡± ¡°Can you get more?¡± Lady Nensela asked, running a finger along the frame. ¡°I aim to. Along with more wonders. But without a direct Gate to Lyrcania, these are costly imports by land and sea. When I think of how many pounds of gold this would have to be sold for, just to make up for the transport costs ¡­ I shudder to think of what my opponents in the Den would make of the expense. Fortunately, the mirror was an embassy gift.¡± The ¡®Den¡¯ was the government assembly, called such because the men within it were all dragon class as a rule. Officially considered first in the assembly, the emperor was designated as Draco Prime. Bessa, too, shuddered at the cost. Not to mention the inefficiency of merely importing such fabulous goods. ¡°May I hope the Ellura company was part of the embassy? Will they set up a branch here, too?¡± With a playful smile the emperor replied, ¡°The courtship is, shall we say, mutual and enthusiastic? I think I do not promise too much if I say you should look forward to the outcome.¡± Thoughts of what other wonders Ellura Company offered brought a dreamy smile to Bessa¡¯s face. However, Edana looked more serious as she tapped her thumb against her chin. ¡°Were the men using an illusion? Why did their appearances keep changing?¡± ¡°An ¡®artifact,¡¯ I am told. Certain proof of an illusion. The mirror allows you to see both what is, and what is meant to be seen, as scryers do. Such a blessing is why I detected them.¡± ¡°Very illuminating,¡± Lady Nensela said. ¡°Thank you, Drusus.¡± Tarkhana bowed graciously, startling Bessa and Edana. He winked at them. The show over, he led them outside, where his Drakon Guards awaited. The guards escorted them to his private dining pavilion, on a small promontory overlooking the bay. No one could take them unawares, nor overhear any utterance they might say, Bessa silently noted. White, moon-blossoming flowers encircled the pavilion and the path leading to it. Palm-sized glowlights were interspersed among them, emitting a soft silvery glow along the path. Inside the pavilion, glowlights bordered the edge of the ceiling, allowing them to see comfortably as they sat under the wooded canopy. The applewood logs in the small braziers in the corners of the pavilion ensured they stayed warm in the brisk air of night. Once the servants brought out the food Tarkhana banished the guards, sending them to the far end of the lane. The women took their places, then Tarkhana blessed their dinner in the name of the Reaper. As their host Tarkhana first passed the breadbasket to Lady Nensela, who sat at his right hand. The spiced bread inside was still warm and fresh, with indentations baked into it to make ripping it up easier. After Bessa and Edana took their share, Tarkhana ripped off a hunk of bread and broke it. Now their emperor leveled the full weight of his attention to the two younger women. ¡°Not in a very long time have I read as riveting a report as Lady Aelia¡¯s account of the Battle of Red Pointe. In it she speaks highly of you, Edana Nuriel. You, and a companion known as ¡®Bessa Philomelos,¡¯ who, by her description, can only be the one before me as ¡®The Ruby Lotus of Larissopolis.¡¯¡± The emperor caught Bessa¡¯s eye, and held her gaze. ¡°Your prudence is to be commended. Your secret will remain with me. And my archives.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Bessa replied. ¡°There is more to be commended as well,¡± Tarkhana continued. ¡°Knowing what I do of the giants and the traitors, I see your play for what it is: a clever gambit. And a successful one, as reports from my best informants tell me. You tell tales, Optima Philomelos. Tales that plant seeds in the mind, and bear fruit in deeds. No doubt you would wish to be recognized by your peers and your audience at the Phoenix Festival. In place of that joy, please accept the honor of your emperor.¡± Bessa jumped in her seat, startled as one of Tarkhana¡¯s slaves appeared beside her. The youth knelt, holding out a beautiful gold and teal enamel cloisonn¨¦ box. Her heart stopped. The box was the right dimension for¡­but could it be? Bessa¡¯s hand trembled when she reached out to open the lid. Lady Nensela and Edana leaned forward. Pearl-white silk lined the box, a stunning contrast to the object nestled within it: a quill. The feather started as a deep lavender near the shaft, graduating to violet nearest the edges. Its tips gleamed teal, or emerald, or azure depending on how the light hit it. A phoenix quill. Bessa gasped. Tarkhana smiled. ¡°You have earned it. I thought you should be recognized, even though you must conceal your true name.¡± Three¡ªfour¡ªheartbeats passed before Bessa found her voice. Her mind reeled. Beneath the table, Edana gently prodded her. ¡°Ohhh ¡­ thank you!¡± All other words fled her mind, and it seemed an eternity before she realized she was gaping in shock. Then her upbringing kicked in, and she said, ¡°I am profoundly gratified and humbled by this gift. Permit me to say that what I have done I did not do alone: The Honey Cakes Troupe made my play come alive. Their performances have been vital in our project of warning people about the giants and the traitors. Right now their leader is concerned you have judged our play as an offense against the empire, and I have done my best to assure him otherwise. Might I ask you to remember the troupe in any accolades to come?¡± Tarkhana eyed her for a long moment, then a slow smile came to his face. ¡°My better generals always give credit to their best soldiers. Consider it done for your soldiers as well.¡± ¡°Congratulations,¡± Edana and Lady Nensela said to her. Later, Lady Nensela asked about the assassins. As Tarkhana could see through illusions she concluded they only posed as pre-existing staff at the moment of the attack, not the days before. A point which Tarkhana had already considered. His Drakon Guard had investigated, discovering that seven new people joined his staff in the last six months. One of the seven included Claudia, the daughter of Empress Oriana¡¯s freedwoman, a cloth weaver. One new kitchen slave, and one new carpenter turned up missing. ¡°Would you believe, they have not been seen since the night of my attack? And their description exactly matches the true appearance of my would-be killers? The others are under watch, especially Claudia.¡± ¡°And the movements of the spurious carpenter and slave?¡± ¡°My echomancers tell me the cut-throats used the oraculum on three occasions. And that is why you are here. I have two call signs. One sign we matched with a name. The other sign we¡¯re not sure what to make of. Add them both to your list.¡± From his robes he brought forth a piece of folded parchment. He watched Lady Nensela¡¯s face as she studied it. ¡°You seem troubled.¡± She glanced at Bessa and Edana before answering. ¡°Governor Archelaos is a name known to us: he is an agent of Erebossa. An eidolon. Grant me leverage to use against him, I beseech you. But this other call sign, has it not come to you already?¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°It is the sigil of a fiend due to appear in the east. Where, I will note, Archelaos is also stationed, and where a multitude of giants will appear before the solstice. This sigil belongs to Murena.¡± Edana jerked upright. ¡°They were going to replace him.¡± Tarkhana lifted an eyebrow, prompting Lady Nensela to add, ¡°Murena has tried once before to capture a body to possess.¡± All night long the emperor had given off a youthful, vivacious energy. But now he closed his eyes as though mortally tired. For several minutes he sat in silence, then took a deep breath. When he opened them again, he looked every bit his ninety years. ¡°By the gods. What a shadowfiend could do wielding my authority and wearing my body does not bear thinking about.¡± ¡°And in your body he will have a long time to carry out his schemes,¡± Lady Nensela pointed out. ¡°Creatures of Erebossa do not think in the short term, and we know they have been waging a longer war. This war is older than I, I who have lived so long as to see the stars shift in the heavens. Dryads had yet to awaken in Qir? before the first volley was made.¡± Tarkhana solemnly vowed he would be on his guard. ¡°Attend to me, Drusus,¡± Lady Nensela commanded, and clasped his hands in her own as if she were about to lay an oath upon him. ¡°Is it not said by your people, ¡®Death before dishonor¡¯? At all costs you must keep to that value: yield up your life if you cannot prevail against your attackers.¡± Tarkhana sighed, and squeezed her hands. ¡°Such a glorious death, for a glorious reason. The echomancers and lorekeepers will have fun with this. Very well. My affairs are in order, and my successor is safeguarded.¡± He turned to Bessa. ¡°Now I charge you, young playwright, with making my demise a grand and memorable affair in your play. Choose not a callow pretty boy to play my part; seek and find an actor with a deep and commanding voice. I favor red; it suits me. Let your costume people know.¡± Thoughts of Brison¡¯s reaction to this ¡®suggestion¡¯ swirled in her head, but Bessa calmly replied, ¡°It will be so, Your Eminence.¡± Tarkhana turned back to LadyNensela. ¡°And if I am grievously wounded, but am unable to die quickly enough?¡± ¡°Vet your physicians. Entreat His Grace, Lysimachus, son of the Sea Lord, to stay by your side and enforce this order: you will succumb to your injuries, or the physicians die. They cannot raise you. The healer who disobeys this order is the enemy. Your priests must do what was done against Justin Kellis in Karnassus. That is how it must be if you are successfully attacked. For your sake and ours, try and evade the Erebossi until the winter solstice, when all the dead must remain so.¡± ¡°It will be as you say,¡± Tarkhana replied. For a long moment Lady Nensela regarded him. Her eyes glinted as if she were looking into a light they could not see. ¡°I will not know death, unless someone kills me,¡± she said quietly. ¡°But I know the fear of death. So I will say now, at the moment Murena enters your body, he will undo your life¡¯s work. Drusus Caecilianus Tarkhana will not be remembered to history as a good emperor, or a wise emperor, or the shepherd of the golden age of Rasena Valentis. He will be remembered as the one who destroyed the world.¡±
¡°What aid can I give you?¡± the emperor asked later that evening. Lady Nensela promptly replied, ¡°Governor Archelaos must be watched; that is in your power. The sea captain presents a challenge, but we are not without a plan for him.¡± Thus it happened a decree went out to every part of Rasena Valentis authorizing private vessels to destroy any ship belonging to Rozvan Lior and the Red Daggers. A princely sum would go to any who managed this feat¡ªregardless if the hero were an honest sailor or a pirate. ¡°The pirates are also Rasena Valentians, are they not? Let them serve you now,¡± Lady Nensela said. The emperor denied her nothing she asked for. Of his own initiative, he offered up one other boon. To Bessa and Edana he presented small gold boxes, each with a ruby cabochon in the center of the lids. The women glanced at each other, then opened their boxes together. Inside each box was an amethyst ring, with a braided band of gold and silver. Intaglios carved into the amethysts portrayed a crowned sea dragon framed by a wreath of valonia oak leaves. Tarkhana said, ¡°Do not think it lost on me that you are both from the parts of my empire that love me least. And yet you have done more than I could have asked to protect it. For reasons of your own, I¡¯m sure. With these rings you may ask for assistance from any official, any soldier, and you shall have it. More than this, the rings are attuned to my oraculum. Use them wisely.¡± Edana gathered her thoughts before answering. ¡°Thank you, eminence, for the trust you have put in us. It is ¡­ an honor we do not take lightly.¡± The emperor insisted they stay for the night. Neither Edana nor Lady Nensela objected to this, and Bessa understood why. The rest of the empire was not like Falcon¡¯s Hollow; night travel was to be avoided unless important business were afoot. However, she did summon her courage to ask to send a message to Brison. As it turned out, the emperor shared a bond with a sylph, and she delivered Bessa¡¯s assurances to him. When breakfast was over, Bessa and Edana boarded their carriage. Lady Nensela started to enter, then paused and turned back. Long did she gaze upon Tarkhana, who was watching them leave. On the way back, Lady Nensela remained silent and pensive. ¡°Will he live, my lady?¡± Edana asked. The seer did not answer right away. ¡°I do pray so. For all our sakes, I pray so.¡± Chapter 35: Race to Abris XXXV Race to Abris In which Bessa learns shocking news as they race to stop an eidolon The leaves fell, and the chrysanthemums began to bloom in full force before Halie returned, triumphant. As Lady Nensela had asked of him, Tarkhana embedded imperial arcana aboard the fastest of his naval vessels. Together with certain pirates and sea captains, they sought and destroyed Red Dagger fleets. It was this that drew the Fourth Abyssal, Rozvan Lior, back from Erebossa. Halie pounced, landing on his ship in her dragon form while her brothers besieged it from without. Lior promptly revealed his true form, a grotesque parody of a dragon. Between Halie and her brothers he stood no chance. ¡°We slew everyone on that ship,¡± Halie gushed when the group met again at Nensela¡¯s estate. ¡°But I was careful to leave the breath of life in Lior¡¯s body. My brothers dragged him into the sea with them, and from there will take him to Erebossa, where he will come before the Destroyer. I do not expect that to end well for him.¡± Only the Fifth Abyssal¡ªand Murena¡ªremained. ¡°Our backs are covered,¡± Ziri said. ¡°We can take this fight to the east now, and not be trapped between.¡±
The time had come for Bessa to part ways with the theater company. True to his word, the emperor publicly recognized the Honey Cakes, showering them with praise and endorsements. Offers came flooding in, and overnight their stature grew. Pleased though she was that she had changed their fortunes for the better, Bessa grew wistful at the thought of leaving the company. They made her dreams come true, beyond all she had ever dared to hope for. Until her dying day they would have her gratitude. But now the day she dreaded had come. Bessa found Brison on the roof of the townhouse where they were staying. The sun hung low in the sky. Only a few hours of daylight remained, though it was only two hours past noon. The light winds forced Bessa to wrap her shawl tighter around herself. She had chosen wool of deep cerulean to complement the violets she tucked behind her ear. ¡°Good afternoon,¡± she began. Brison, looking out over the city, gave a start at the sound of her voice. ¡°Ruby. I thought you might come up here. Valentis at sunset is gorgeous, isn¡¯t it? A few times I managed to almost be successful enough to come here, on a professional basis for a show. Somehow things always fell through, and I never made it here. And then you came along. You and your amazing stories and ideas. How fortunate for me that you crossed my path.¡± She drew even with him. From their vantage point the Sword of Valentis lay to their right, and Rasena across the bay to their left. The sea¡¯s choppy waves and turbulent churn of the tides obliged them to remain for the winter. While Brison might have considered a tour of the empire¡¯s southern reaches, including Eitan, the Sky Guard Mountains were a formidable obstacle. Treacherous enough in the summer, none dared cross the peaks in winter. Bessa said, ¡°I, too, dreamt of this. What I couldn¡¯t imagine was how to make it happen. Not until I heard about the giants. I told my story in many places, and in Fanuco¡¯s it bore fruit. So I thank you for having the vision to make my play a success.¡± ¡°My vision is strong when it comes to money-making stories. Thalia¡¯s spirit breathes through you, as the Pelasgians like to say. Damn good pitch material, I¡¯ll grant you. And as the emperor has f¨ºted us, I don¡¯t see how anything could stop us now. When theater season rolls back around, we shall continue on, to Sir?nasse and Tartessia and perhaps even the Cloudwalk, too.¡± ¡°I would be gratified if you could go to Silura as well. Half the play happens there, you know.¡± ¡°If I could go to Silura. Since when do you talk as if you have no say in things? You¡¯ve been quiet all week. Even Daphne is starting to worry. Talk to me.¡± Bessa took a deep breath. Well. Now had come the moment she¡¯d mentally rehearsed for weeks. Brison was exactly the type of man who would question good fortune, and how long it would last. Even so ... ¡°When I visited the emperor a month ago, I was not alone. A seer was with us, a Seeker¡¯s Own. All along I¡¯ve said our success was by the will of the gods. But our success is not for nothing, and not without cost. I must go.¡± Brison stared hard at her. ¡°Don¡¯t think I didn¡¯t notice you always seemed to know more than you were telling. I didn¡¯t question it, since we have done well. Kellis and the curse doll shook me up, but I wanted to believe everything would be fine. And you speak with honey. Now speak the truth.¡± ¡°When I walked into Fanuco¡¯s I targeted you, because I needed an acting troupe and excellence was the only option. Did you also notice the timeliness of the play, how news comes to us everywhere of giants and shadow fiends? Too often to be a coincidence, no? There is no happenstance in this matter, including me ¡®hearing¡¯ of these giants, and making up a story. I am an instrument, and you have been one as well. One used for a noble purpose. For now this is all I can say.¡± Brison looked away, staring at the bay, and the expanse of the city before them. Bessa remained silent. What anger he might feel, what hurt or betrayal, she would not deny his right to it. While she did everything she could to keep him and his people safe, she did expose them to danger, and used them to her own ends. If Kellis or Escamilla had attacked them she would have held herself responsible. No apology could ever be enough. ¡°So it wasn¡¯t just luck,¡± Brison said after a while. His stubble scritched again as he stroked it. ¡°I knew our fortune was too good to be true. And what are you going to do now? Do you need another instrument?¡± Overcome, Bessa seized his arm, forcing him to look her in the eyes. ¡°You are no game piece to me. I will not blame you if you doubt this. Everything I¡¯ve done I did to protect my family. And when I learned the giants meant to destroy all of Rasena Valentis, I vowed I would bring to light them and their allies. And show others how to defend themselves. That is the part you played, and played well. I have done right by you as best I can. My friends, including the seer I spoke of, helped me protect you.¡± His jaw twitched, and he abruptly looked back at the bay. In her imaginings of this moment, she had pictured him enraged. Energetically so. But when Grandmother was angry she grew cold and quiet. What did quiet mean for Brison? ¡°As for why I¡¯m going east, I must not say right now. I do not know if I will return alive to ever tell you. Watch for news from the east, and you will understand. You will find on your desk two sealed documents. Plays. One is to be opened if the emperor should die. He has ¡­ suggestions ¡­ for how his death should be portrayed.¡± At the mention of the emperor, Brison turned sharply to stare at her. A light sparked in his eyes. Bessa continued, ¡°When you hear of war in the east, open the other one. In any case, Brison, I wish you to live long and well. I¡ª¡± ¡°If you did not have to go east, would you have stayed here?¡± The note in his voice ¡­ not for the first time she¡¯d heard it from him, and she heard it more often lately. Ohhh, by the gods! Without meaning to she¡¯d entered foreign territory, with no lore or guide to aid her. Guilt welled within her. Recriminations echoed in her mind. Bessa fingered her shawl and inhaled, revelation dawning. Vermilion gown, cerulean shawl¡ªchoosing the colors reserved for married women, as she had done lately, was no coincidence either. ¡°I could not. When I left my family, officially I was seeking refuge with the man I am betrothed to. If I survive long enough to reach him, my life with him will be very different than this. Yet another reason I have cherished the time I spent with all of you. He¡¯s a red gryphon, and when we marry I must go where he is sent.¡± Brison¡¯s chest rose. ¡°So, saying you were spoken for was not to hold unwanted suitors at bay. Simply the truth.¡± ¡°The truth.¡± She paused. ¡°I will carry all of you in my heart, always. But¡ª¡± Brison put a finger to her lips, silencing her. ¡°This is my own fault for daring to reach for too much, I suppose. The gods won¡¯t grant me every wish. I wish you well, also, Ruby. I will think of you when I go to the temples, and ask that the gods not discard you once you have served your purpose.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°And, if things don¡¯t work out with this other man, you will know where to find me.¡±
If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Between the Star Dragons and Tarkhana¡¯s echomancers, a picture emerged as to what Archelaos was up to in Urashtu, where he was stationed as governor. If he catches them flat footed and in disarray, with key people unexpectedly absent and precisely the wrong people in their stead, then that doesn¡¯t bode well. Edana¡¯s words echoed in Bessa¡¯s mind as she listened to the reports. The governor kept shifting legions around. From a study of a map came an unsettling revelation: he was isolating the Valley of Abris. Ziri said, ¡°If the giants enter there, they have a straight line to Valentis. Should Abris fall, we¡¯ll lose the Chrysanthemum Road as an important trade route.¡± The Chrysanthemum Road led straight to Anshan, a gateway to other parts of the world. Without it, the Karnassus Gate and the Cloud Gate would become choke points. ¡°Let¡¯s also not forget that the Five we¡¯ve pursued so far are simply the five we know about,¡± Ziri pointed out. ¡°What of the Furi?¡± Edana asked. ¡°Didn¡¯t our working hypothesis suppose that Gagnon intended to misdirect everyone into thinking the Furi were to blame for the giants¡¯ attacks in Silura? What if they are stirred up? If the Gates are taken, the Chrysanthemum Road is cut off, and the Furi control the Borealis Ocean¡ª¡± ¡°Then our isolation will be complete,¡± Ziri finished. ¡°Yes. I¡¯m considering that. Halie captured Rozvan Lior just off the coast of Pelasgos. That¡¯s far enough into the Viridian Sea that any trouble started could have made the emperor concentrate the bulk of the fleet there. Leaving Silura, Sir?nasse, and Tartessia vulnerable to attacks coming from the Borealis Ocean.¡± ¡°So the fleet needs to move to the Borealis, then?¡± Edana asked. ¡°Don¡¯t forget, back in Silura the giants always seemed to come from the direction of the sea,¡± Bessa added. ¡°We¡¯ve wondered how they were arriving. Portals on ships is the best answer we¡¯ve come up with, and Captain Asher said it was possible.¡± Ziri paused. He exchanged a glance with his Valentian legate. The Valentian replied, ¡°I will ask the emperor to alert all naval vessels, and to bolster the fleet in the Borealis. May the gods help us if we¡¯re wrong. With the sailing season closed, they will need every Venatori and every Marinite priest they can round up to send their ships in time.¡± Ziri said, ¡°In the meantime, Archelaos is supposed to go to the fortress at Abris. No doubt to come up with some dazzle to lure the soldiers away, or lull them in some way. We must intercept him.¡± Lady Nensela warned, ¡°He will likely try to use the men there as shields against anything we do to remove him. The garrison officers may not listen to a Star Dragon, and we don¡¯t have time to convince them. I will go. The word of a Seeker¡¯s Own is inviolate. If I tell them to arrest their governor, they will do so.¡± With a glance at Bessa and Edana she added, ¡°Come with me, and bring the emperor¡¯s signet rings. We have a governor to overthrow.¡±
They sped on their way, in a carriage emblazoned with an imperial seal. The fire drakes pulling the carriage added to the grandeur, and their authority. As they went Lady Nensela stopped at each garrison and fortress along the Chrysanthemum Road. She ordered the centurions and draco hydras commanding them to make for the Valley of Abris, ¡°by order of the emperor.¡± The officers were only to delay long enough to call the units in the other parts of Urashtu, and the neighboring provinces. ¡°When we reach Abris, how are we to proceed?¡± Edana asked. ¡°Archelaos will know we intend to stop him, and he won¡¯t think he has anything to lose by shapeshifting then. A dead garrison is just as good as a deceived or empty garrison.¡± ¡°And with that thought, let us hope everyone at Abris is still alive,¡± Lady Nensela replied. ¡°At least we have reinforcements at our back. As for Archelaos, we have this.¡± She touched the pouch attached to her belt. ¡°Halie¡¯s salt. And you, Edana.¡± ¡°Me?¡± ¡°Indeed. Honoria did flee from you,¡± Lady Nensela said. ¡°Would Archelaos react differently? Hold him at bay while the salt does its work. Once he shifts to his true form the soldiers might help us, but until then, they may obstruct us. Worse, they may attempt to kill him out of sheer panic.¡± ¡°But I¡¯m not sure I can do what you¡¯re suggesting,¡± Edana protested. ¡°I¡¯m not a priestess or a sorceress, or anything like that.¡± ¡°Does that matter? You believe the Sayings. I daresay your experiences have only made that belief stronger. This is not the time for doubts. Just do.¡± Edana lapsed into silence, pondering the seer¡¯s request. ¡°Speaking of doubts,¡± Bessa began, ¡°If they don¡¯t believe the giants are truly dangerous, should we reveal we were at Red Pointe?¡± From her purse she brought out the engraved, gold-plated disk the governor of Silura had given her and Edana. Carved in high relief with an accurate likeness of a giant, it commemorated their victory at the Battle of Red Pointe. Lady Nensela gave a start. For a moment she stared at the medallion in Bessa¡¯s hands, then audibly sighed and closed her eyes, murmuring something in Ta-Setian. ¡°Lady Nensela?¡± Edana raised an eyebrow. ¡°By the Seeker, I have missed what is in plain sight,¡± Lady Nensela replied, speaking Rasenan again. She tapped Bessa¡¯s medallion. ¡°One does not wear a crown before one is made king. And a soldier does not receive honor before he has fought and won the battle. Lah!¡± Bewildered, Bessa stared at her medallion, but the seer¡¯s point eluded her. ¡°Yes¡ªthat¡¯s true. But ... ?¡± Lady Nensela rubbed her temples, as if she had a headache. ¡°My apologies. The drawing you made, Edana, of the six-around-one seal? Bring it now to remembrance in your minds, both of you. At the time you revealed it to us, Edana, you had a persuasive suggestion that it represented the intentions of our enemies.¡± ¡°Yes? You don¡¯t think they mean to unleash these horrors upon us?¡± Edana asked. ¡°Unfortunately¡ªunfortunately, I now see the seal differently. You said they were circles arranged as a hexagon, with a seventh in the center. Portrait circles, yes? Like this medallion of the giant.¡± Again she tapped Bessa¡¯s medallion. ¡°Centurions in your legions also have such medallions, worn on their chest to commemorate victories. And if they have seven, they wear them in the six-around-one arrangement.¡± Fear dawned now in Bessa¡¯s heart. Did Lady Nensela mean what she thought she meant? ¡°The winged tigers are known to haunt the forests of Urashtu,¡± Lady Nensela continued. ¡°Ever since we arrived here we have seen them on flags and emblems. And Archelaos is here. The sphinx is on the seal of the Library of Karnassus¡ªhow did I miss that? And Justin Kellis was there. Duke Gagnon was from Sir?nasse, and the morvac¡¯h may have represented his activities. The sea dragons fought battles under the sea: where the krakens live, and where Rozvan Lior was stationed. My dear young companions, is it not more likely that the six-around-one seal was not a threat of future evils, but a boast of evils already accomplished? Awards are given after an endeavor is completed, no?¡± Again Bessa looked to her medallion, and the fearsome gigalion on its face. A lump grew in her throat, at the thought of a world in which such creatures were rampant and unstoppable. ¡°But what about the falling stars? That hasn¡¯t happened yet.¡± ¡°True,¡± Lady Nensela conceded. ¡°But you¡¯re assuming we have correctly interpreted the significance of the three stars. We may need to reconsider everything.¡± ¡°Perhaps Halie will know about the stars. Will she be part of the wave coming behind us?¡± Bessa asked. Halie and Ziri had remained in Valentis. ¡°The Gates will be attacked,¡± Lady Nensela predicted. ¡°Any student of war would anticipate that, and we cannot allow them to fall. Should the Gates remain secure, Ziri will send Halie to us. The trip will be one way, affording us no room for error. We¡¯re to hold on for as long as possible.¡± The Fortress of Abris loomed ahead. Anyone coming from Anshan would encounter the fortress on their first stop along the Chrysanthemum Road. Appropriately enough the fortress was designed to look formidable, an excellent representation of the power, and grandeur, of Rasena Valentis. Between the headquarters¡¯ marble fa?ade and polished copper roof, the fortress gleamed as a beacon, visible for miles. Flags flapped in the brisk wind, two atop the gate posts, one atop the domed basilica. Each flag bore a rampant winged tiger blazing against a deep blue field. Bessa shivered, Lady Nensela¡¯s words echoing in her mind. The gates opened swiftly as they approached. Two centurions hurried out to meet them. Bessa and Edana stepped out first. Setting the tone for this next part, they wore enough violet¡ªborrowed from Lady Nensela¡¯s wardrobe¡ªto scream imperial. To Bessa, Lady Nensela also loaned a luxuriant swan-white chiton of velvet and silk imported from Xia. Bessa wore it draped from one shoulder. Over her bare shoulder Bessa draped a purple shawl diagonally to her hip, and tucked it into a simple gold belt that emphasized the narrowness of her waist. The shawl covered Bessa¡¯s left arm, which meant the dragon torque, a Pendry family heirloom, stood out all the more on her upper right arm. Dragons hinted of authority and power, precisely why Edana used a dragonesque brooch to enclose her violet shawl in a knot over her heart. The brooch matched the long-sleeved peacock green gown she wore. For added emphasis, the jewel was inlaid with a rose quartz carved in the shape of an oleander, the emperor¡¯s symbol. Both women prominently displayed their amethyst signet rings, completing their imperial personas. The two of them flanked the door, framing Lady Nensela¡¯s exit from the carriage. The seer¡¯s pleated violet gown billowed behind her. Her arms were bare, save for the pearls she¡¯d wrapped around her forearms. She seemed impervious to the chill, indeed, the officers reacted to her expression as if she had brought the chill with her. They were ushered inside straightaway. ¡°Your Grace, may I announce you to our commander?¡± one man asked. He was dressed in green and black livery, and indicated he was the seneschal. Bessa reached into her shawl and whipped out a square of folded parchment, sealed. ¡°Give him this forthwith. For his eyes only.¡± The seneschal visibly swallowed. ¡°Yes, my lady. I will see to it, my lady.¡± He clutched the parchment to his chest and cleared his throat. ¡°May I take you to the Great Hall? It is on my way, and you will find it comfortably away from the draft in the air.¡± ¡°We do not wish to be kept waiting,¡± Edana said coldly. ¡°Archelaos. Bring him immediately to us in the hall you speak of. And make certain we are not disturbed.¡± ¡°Forgive me,¡± a centurion said. ¡°Archelaos is not here. He was to arrive, but he seems to have been delayed.¡± Oh? Bessa and Edana glanced at each other. In keeping with her act Lady Nensela remained silent, her face impassive. ¡°And your commander. Is he absent as well?¡± Bessa demanded. She schooled her face to give nothing away. If Archelaos had managed to remove the commander, then nothing stood between the giants and victory. ¡°My lady,¡± the seneschal hurriedly said, ¡°Red Gryphon Lysander Xenakis remains in command of Abris.¡± Chapter 36: The Eve of Battle XXXVI The Eve of Battle In which a young officer learns his fate, accepts the call of duty, and risks his heart ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Red Gryphon Lysander Xenakis looked up from the sheaves of parchments on his desk to see his seneschal, Franciscus, approaching him. He was holding out a square of yet more parchment. ¡°Sir,¡± said Franciscus. He handed Lysander the letter, then stood at attention. Closest to the iron brazier where fragrant persimmon logs burned, warming the room. Reflexively Lysander started to dismiss him, but was checked by the expression on the seneschal¡¯s face. ¡°Is there something you¡¯re not telling me?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m allowed to say, sir.¡± So cryptic a remark earned the seneschal a long look. Finally Lysander glanced down at the seal, and froze in place. One name arrested his attention. Bessa Philomelos. Philomelos? Oh, to the Serpent with that name! Not two weeks ago came his father¡¯s last letter, congratulating him for obtaining a lucrative post-army position before he was due to be discharged. A prestigious assignment, especially for one so young as you. And the timing works because you will have your wife then to assist you. So the old man had written. Lysander set his jaw. Who was Bessa Philomelos? Elisabet haunted his nightmares. Well, Elisabet Bessa Philomelos. Apparently, her family was Rasena Valentian enough to use their tribe and family name, but Pelasgian enough to give Elisabet her own forename. His Rasena Valentian sister-in-law was one of three sisters in her family named Fabia, for their tribe were the Fabii. A silly custom, but to be expected of barbarians. But was this Elisabet¡ªhe glanced at the paper again¡ªWas this ¡®Bessa¡¯ the Elisabet Bessa Philomelos he¡¯d been dreading all these years? Impossible. Her family did not rank high enough to bear the emperor¡¯s seal on their activities. Perhaps the family name Philomelos was common in the part of Pelasgos the Bessoi tribe were from. The name must be a coincidence. Finally he read the terse message. ¡°Tell me about these messengers.¡± Franciscus cocked his head at Lysander¡¯s tone. ¡°Sir, they brooked no inquiry, and I gathered discretion was vital to them. Three women wait in the great hall. First they requested Governor Archelaos. When I gave them your name, one of them appeared surprised. And worried.¡± He said that last part in a hushed tone. Surprised? Worried? Why? Unconsciously, Lysander drummed his fingers on his desk. So, there was other business afoot, nothing to do with that cursed Elisabet. For a small moment, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy of a nice seer who would proclaim either he or the girl would come to harm if they married. Sighing to himself, he gave up the fantasy. Whatever business brought an imperial seer his way, he had better give it his full attention. ¡°Show them in.¡± Without a word Franciscus vanished, quicker than Lysander liked. He wanted more time to gather his thoughts. Rising from his chair, Lysander turned to the giant window behind his desk and unlatched it. On warmer days he left it open to enjoy the view of the mountains of Urashtu. This morning was too chilly for him to bother, but now he sought the cold to shock himself into clarity. In tandem with his brazier, the hypocaust beneath the floor of his office warmed the room so well he had been in danger of succumbing to drowsiness before Franciscus arrived. All reports he had studied from Karnassus, Valentis, and Red Pointe warned him an imperial seer would not lightly visit this outpost. If he were the emperor he would send his seers where it mattered most. Philomelos. The name persisted in jumping to the forefront of his mind. This past spring had brought with it an important occasion: his twenty-fifth birthday. And, therefore; the legal standing to make his own decisions. Including whom he would marry. Supreme self-control kept him from writing to the Philomelos family on that long-awaited day. Duty to Abris came first; no sense in courting the distraction of his father¡¯s wrath. Breaking off the betrothal could wait¡ªbut break it he would, with no regrets. What he regretted was the necessity. With all his heart his father had loved his wife, Drusilla, and thought of his two sons with her as an everlasting source of pride and joy. By all accounts she had been charming, ingenious, and insightful, well earning her place as his lordship¡¯s most treasured counselor. Privately, Lysander suspected time and nostalgia had placed a golden veil over his father¡¯s memories of Drusilla, but he allowed it may have been the thinnest of veils. Lord Xenakis attributed the better nature of their sons to her, and Lysander knew his elder brothers to be good men. Why shouldn¡¯t their mother be given her due for that? What Lysander was less willing to accept were the consequences of being the son of an unloved concubine. Deep in the throes of grief when he met Kastianeira, his father¡¯s judgment was clouded. So Lord Xenakis would later concede. Once sobered, he considered her to be lovely, but dull and precisely conventional. Not fit to replace Drusilla. A sweet peasant girl, nothing more. Before Lysander¡¯s fourth birthday the ¡®sweet peasant girl¡¯ was sent away, to one of the villas Lord Xenakis kept in Pelasgos. Years would pass before Lysander would set eyes on her again. Discovering she was alive came by chance. Tracking her down and reuniting with her came by his sheer determination and cunning, after he chose the right time to run away from home. By the time his father caught up to him, Lysander had rekindled his bond with his mother. For once, grace and charity gained the upper hand with the old man, and he declined to sever the bond of mother and son for the second time. The only excuse he offered for the first was his fear that Kastianeira¡¯s influence would hamper Lysander¡¯s development. Which fit: at some point in his youth, Lysander figured out his father harbored low expectations for him. If Cleo or Marcus wished to swim, they would be given the finest swimming instructors. But Lysander would have to suffer himself to be tossed into deep water first. If he survived then he, too, was worthy of tutors. Over the years, Lysander learned to make a game out of exceeding his father¡¯s expectations. He reveled in seeing how far his career advanced without his father backing him. Well, Lysander¡¯s career was one thing. His wife was another. Chill, crisp mountain air washed over him, but that was not what stiffened his spine. The marriage his father arranged for him violated everything Lysander stood for. If his father had chosen a wife similar to his brothers¡¯¡ªa woman ofintellect, social graces, and connections¡ªthen Lysander would have been assured his father intended the marriage to be true and enduring. But for his third son Lord Xenaxis chose a Siluran upstart. Silura, a land famously peopled with barbarians who only just emerged from the caves. So it was said. Lord Xenakis assured him Elisabet could read and write. Yet, Lysander suspected his father would never brag that she reminded him of Drusilla, as he said of Cleo and Marcus¡¯s wives. No, the priority was Elisabet¡¯s dowry. A dowry of such wealth to make up for the lesser portion of the inheritance Lord Xenakis would leave Lysander when he died. Children of concubines were not legitimate heirs; legally Lysander was entitled to nothing of his father¡¯s estate. Elisabet¡¯s fortune would be Lysander¡¯s springboard to great heights, Lord Xenakis had insisted. Lysander¡¯s stomach clenched. Long ago he resolved to make his own way; he would take nothing from his father or Elisabet. What he feared most was that once he¡¯d achieved the wealth to painlessly repay Elisabet¡¯s dowry, his father would insist he jettison her in favor of a ¡®proper wife.¡¯ Worse, he likely expected Lysander to banish her from any children they might have together, as Kastianeira had been banished. Lysander¡¯s conscience pierced him. In the dawn of their engagement Elisabet had sent him a betrothal gift: an amulet of moonbow steel, blessed by the priests of Khratu. Precious moonbow, a spoil of battle from her father, forged and blessed to bring Lysander success in his battle strategies. Such kindness. Such generosity. How well he knew the blood and toil and loss embedded in the very idea of a spoil. To accept such a gift knowing what it must have cost her father to obtain it, and knowing what his father planned, would rob him of any ability to meet his own eyes in the mirror. Lysander kept the amulet safely locked away in his gear. Seven years. Seven years to find a true wife Lord Xenakis would have to accept. Why had he failed to use his time better? Never mind. When the seer left, he would write a letter to the Philomelos family straightaway and let them know the engagement was off. It was the right thing to do. Footsteps sounded. Franciscus. And¡ª The door swung open, and Franciscus ushered in the three women. Ruthlessly, Lysander shoved thoughts of Elisabet into the deepest abyss of his mind. Time for business. Franciscus presented the women with a flourish. ¡°Ladies, I introduce Red Gryphon Xenakis.¡± Quickly, he introduced the trio to his commander. Lysander acknowledged each woman with a nod. All three were stately in their beauty, but that wasn¡¯t what caught him off guard. The Ta-Setian arrested his eye first, as he knew her people for their skill in archery. Even the women were said to make for deadly sagitarii. She was a seer, though, and he immediately designated her the most important person in the room, even aside from the amount of purple she wore. In fact, the purple all three wore made him wonder if they might be Drakaina¡ªseers or sorceresses in the Drakon guard. The emperor was Ta-Setian enough to include such women in that service. The remaining pair intrigued him: since when did Silurans or Terebinthians exercise such lofty authority? More to the point, both nations famously resented the empire. If these women rated purple they must be formidable at their jobs. Still, their presence was an enigma. The Terabinthian commanded great height and met his eyes forthrightly, but it was the third woman he focused on. Siluran: marked so by her amber eyes and copper-bright hair. His father told him his betrothed had hair that color, a color coveted by Rasenan and Valentian women. But she, like the Terebinthian with the oddly Siluran name, wore more purple than he did. Thus, she outranked him and must be obeyed. So, she couldn¡¯t be Elisabet. Yet ¡­ Ever conscientious, he had planned for all kinds of problems: bandits, Anshani incursions, marauding manticores, and particularly the giants he¡¯d heard about. Never had he dreamed it necessary to have a strategy for meeting his unwanted betrothed. Neither swords nor sorcery would aid against her. But delaying the matter wouldn¡¯t help either, so¡ª ¡°That will be all, Franciscus.¡± When the door closed behind the steward, Lysander invited the women to speak. ¡®Bessa¡¯ was staring at him with undisguised curiosity, which deepened his dread. ¡°Lysander,¡± she began, ¡°we bring an important dispatch. We expected Governor Archelaos to be here, but were told he has failed to arrive. Is that so?¡± Her gentle accent surprised him, but the strange undertone in her voice put him on his guard. That, and her using his first name, as though they were on intimate terms. Lysander had received the emperor¡¯s decree to keep watch on the governor. Watch, but not engage. And now Tarkhana sent three investigators to ask about him? Interesting. ¡°That is so,¡± he confirmed, after her preamble sank in. He rallied himself. There was something mesmerizing about the way she spoke, but he needed to focus on the words. However, she confirmed his instincts: she sounded exactly like someone who could be trusted with the emperor¡¯s business. Interesting. ¡°My men have kept watch on Governor Archelaos, as Tarkhana asked. Archelaos gave word he was coming here two nights ago, but since then my scryers have not been able to track his progress. He should have arrived this morning.¡± The women exchanged glances. Bessa said, ¡°Worrisome, but also fortunate. And it¡¯s your help we need.¡± Worrisome and fortunate? A slight exhale betrayed his frustration. Reports from Valentis and Karnassus swirled in his head. How was he to think if his mind was divided over questions of whether Bessa was the woman of his nightmares, or merely some poor soul who happened to have a similar name? So¡ª ¡°Your name is Philomelos?¡± It came out harsher than he intended. Only because he watched her so closely did he see the Siluran¡¯s cheek spasm. A coolness settled over her expression as she squared her shoulders. Again his stomach clenched. ¡°I am she who is betrothed to you. But¡ª¡± Her! A jolt went through him, and for a moment the room swam before his eyes. He blinked, and the room stopped spinning. Before him there were still three women: the seer. The Terebinthian. And her. By sheer force of will he kept his hands at his sides, forcing himself not to reach out and confirm that she was flesh, and not an apparition. After an eternity he said, ¡°You are Elisabet?¡± Harsh again, and again not what he meant. Her eyebrows lifted. ¡°Indeed.¡± ¡°Well met,¡± he said quickly. But again her cheek spasmed, as if he had slapped her. She lifted her left hand and her shawl fell away, revealing a ring he recognized at once. Two stones in a gold setting, the right one a flame-colored topaz and the left one a blue onyx with white striations: The pledge ring his lordship selected from his own mother¡¯s heirlooms. Sun and moon, with the woman herself to be a third point of light in Lysander¡¯s life. ¡°No one calls me ¡®Elisabet,¡¯ anyway. Everyone calls me ¡®Bessa.¡¯ Unless I¡¯m in trouble. When I was a child, I mean.¡± The words tumbled from her, and for the first time Lysander¡¯s resolve weakened. Until now, all he knew of this woman was that she represented what he most despised about his father¡¯s dealings with him. Seeing her just beyond arm¡¯s reach forced him to confront the fact that she was a real person. A person who likely did not deserve all the uncharitable thoughts he ever entertained about her. ¡°My apologies regardless for your reception. Were we not due to meet for another year? You work for the emperor?¡± To his own ears he barely succeeded in keeping his tone light and conversational. Hopefully, he didn¡¯t betray his confusion about her possible connection to the emperor. Now he looked her over with intent. Pretty, very pretty, but such was in character for his father. So far, Bessa didn¡¯t present him with an obvious excuse for rejecting her ¡­ did he want her to? ¡°My presence is related to why we sought Governor Archelaos,¡± she replied, with a glance at her companion, the Terebinthian. ¡°Edana is a Star Dragon. Lady Nensela is a Seeker¡¯s Own. And my estate was attacked by giants.¡± She survived the giants? Again he thought of his plans regarding them. With his men he had tested various scenarios for facing giants, but the results did not inspire confidence. ¡°My condolences,¡± he said, and meant it. ¡°How is Archelaos connected?¡± Optima? Lady? Anyway, Edana Nuriel stepped forward, and Lysander considered her. In all his life he never expected to meet a Star Dragon. That one from that ancient order stood openly before him now deepened his curiosity. As she spoke, he found he could finally concentrate on the matter, putting Bessa out of his mind. Somewhat. From time to time he glanced at her. Throughout the arcana¡¯s explanation, Bessa maintained the icy calm of a statue. When the arcana explained why they were searching for Archelaos, he visibly reacted. The governor was an eidolon? An eidolon with a governor¡¯s authority? The hair stood up on Lysander¡¯s neck. Pieces began to fall into place. Next spake the seer, whose incantatory speaking pattern forced him to concentrate on what she said. With every word she drew him in, then chilled him to his core. ¡°This is grave news,¡± he acknowledged when the women finished. ¡°Are you certain the giants will come here?¡± Lady Nensela drew herself up to her full height and regarded him with cool appraisal. ¡°Do you think your isolation from the other legions a mere coincidence? The absence of this Archelaos fills me with misgivings, but for all our sakes I hope you are prepared to act.¡± ¡°I am. My lady, you spoke of Salamandran acid?¡± He addressed the Terabinthian. Carefully he avoided her eyes; her cold stare rattled him, and his conscience supplied him no defense he would accept. The Terabinthian and Bessa radiated a sisterly air, with the Terabinthian decidedly protective. In an even tone she said, ¡°It prevents the giants from regenerating, the same as it does for water dragons. You have Salamandra in your force, do you not?¡± ¡°True,¡± he confirmed. Finally, a worthy foe for his auxiliaries. Even better, he was well-stocked with their acid. ¡°Consider this fortress on high alert status as of now. My scouts will ensure we¡¯re not taken unawares, and if possible they¡¯ll buy us time. Enough time, I hope, for my scryers to summon those legions who can arrive here soonest.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°We took care of that last for you,¡± the arcana said. ¡°The nearest legions should be here within the next hour or so. Any others from the other provinces will have to arrive by gryphon or dragon to arrive here in time.¡± ¡°You have my thanks,¡± Lysander said. Involuntarily, he fastened his gaze upon Bessa. ¡°Is it your intention to stay here? Or ¡­?¡± Caution exuded from her sidelong stare at him. Softly, she said, ¡°As Edana told you, my family was a target. The giants slaughtered our workers, as bystanders in place of my family.¡± Her voice hardened, and for the first time Lysander tasted iron within her. ¡°Grandmother did not believe the traitor would be satisfied with destroying the vineyard. You are her fallback for my safety. My father, her son, died when I was a child, and I am the only child he ever had. She wanted you to protect me. That was her intention.¡± Lysander raised an eyebrow. So she diverged from her grandmother¡¯s plans, did she? And as for her grandmother ¡­ ¡­ Shame overtook him. Whatever Elisabet¡ªBessa¡ªrepresented to him, it was obvious she was loved and cherished. Even if she were a barbarian as he¡¯d dismissed her all these years, she mattered to this grandmother, who had seen fit to trust him with her life. Yet, he¡¯d never bothered to ask about her. Or entertain the possibility she was worth knowing. But, her grandmother had sent her to him. To him. He had gone to great lengths to earn the trust of his men. They knew him. If he lost their trust they could desert him, or mutiny. But he had done nothing to personally earn the trust or goodwill of Bessa¡¯s grandmother. Nevertheless, she had put in his care the future of her family. If he were not the man she thought he was then she would lose what was most precious to her, without recourse. Lysander resolved to justify the faith the elder Philomelos woman had put in him. This was a new test, and he would not forgive himself if he proved unequal to it. ¡°What was your intention?¡± She exchanged a glance with Edana Nuriel before turning to him. ¡°Edana is my foster sister. I will guard her back until this is over. My intention is to do anything and everything I can to assist her and Lady Nensela in this war of shadows. Staying here, idle and cosseted, is not an option. My dead cry out. I failed them once. For their sake; for Edana¡¯s sake, I will not fail a second time.¡± He inhaled. Not empty-headed, not she. Nor a barbarian, nor a frill, nor any of the other foul calumnies he¡¯d called her in the privacy of his mind. What she possessed was an inner strength he admired, a sense of loyalty and devotion he appreciated, and courage he respected. From what her friend related she was clever, too, but she was so much more! For a long moment he stared at the floor. Perhaps his father hadn¡¯t trapped him after all: everything Lysander saw of Bessa suggested she would be a wife good and true, not a footstool to reach greater heights. That is, if he could get in her good graces. For the first time he cheered. What use was there in obsessing over mistakes, when he had the opportunity to correct them? ¡°Fear not. I have carried many lives in my hands, and I promise you I have spared no effort in their defense. And I, too, know what it is be haunted by the dead I have failed. As commander I will do what I can to ready this post for battle. But as one who is entrusted with your life, ask me for whatever aid I can give you and you shall have it ¡­ my lady. I will spare no effort in guarding your back.¡± She flinched, visibly astonished by his reply. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said after a moment. The tension eased in her posture, and she exhaled deeply. What fears had he alleviated just now in her? Then again, it didn¡¯t matter: clearly, he had just passed her test.
They had work to do. Lysander only spared a short moment to allow the stewards to bring wine heavily cut with water to his strategy room. The stewards left, and in the moments before his officers arrived, Edana Nuriel, Lady Nensela¡ªand Bessa¡ªdropped finely ground salt in the cups. Everyone, including Lysander, was obliged to drink it. For his own peace of mind he asked a Marinite priest, and his pegasus prime¡ªa huntsman¡ªto assay the contents. When they pronounced it safe, Lysander allowed everyone else into the room. They drank. ¡°Was something supposed to happen?¡± Pegasus Prime Arrianus asked. Lady Nensela answered, ¡°You drank holy salt. If one of you were an eidolon, you would have shifted to your true form.¡± Predictably, this caused a commotion. On that note, Lysander introduced his esteemed guests, referring to them as imperial investigators, a designation he came up with to avoid revealing the identities of Edana Nuriel ¡­ and Bessa. Time was not on his side, as the waterclock in the corner made clear. Use well the time you have, he told himself. What strategy, foresight, charm, and sheer force of will he possessed in his quiver needed to come out now. Before the other units arrived. Oh, the soldiers were a blessing. But their officers were not: they outranked Lysander. Men did not earn the rank of hydra or aether, but they held it all the same. Experience outranked titles, and there Lysander had the edge, which brought him no joy at the moment: Out of all the units in Urashtu, he was the only commander who was battle tested. As a red gryphon Lysander operated independently, leading detachments on missions, mostly on skirmishes against Anshani incursions. Months ago his original aether finished out his term, and his new one had yet to make his presence known. This was not the time for raw commanders put in their place by way of their fathers¡¯ connections. Commanders who had not once had cause to leave their desks¡ªand Lysander checked, via letters he¡¯d sent to ostensibly confer with them about threats their fortresses may have faced. Only one aether proved conscientious enough to consider what might happen if giants attacked. The others were marking time until they could move on to political posts. What he obtained in life, he must earn. This lesson was the best gift Lysander¡¯s father gave to him. A lesson well-learned, and he well-applied. Deliberately starting as a centurion, rather than as red gryphon, meant he was surrounded by other centurions who did climb the ranks as raw recruits. With decades of seasoning behind them they made excellent teachers, and in battle they earned his trust. And equally important, he earned theirs. More than ever he needed their trust. For months he and his men relentlessly drilled and worked out scenarios for giants¡¯ attacking. Together they studied reports of the giants from every angle, which yielded one conclusion: they didn¡¯t have enough to go on. What the creatures revealed of themselves was terrifying enough. ¡°Lady Nensela, please share your vision with us,¡± Lysander urged. ¡°We did not know of it before now.¡± The seer obliged him. Emphasizing she did not know where the final battle would take place, she could only speak of where the giants had attacked so far. One particular feature of Lysander¡¯s strategy room initially surprised anyone who saw it, and that was his long table, which featured a realistic, scaled down model of the territory in his jurisdiction. Along with model soldiers as well. His men quickly came to appreciate its use, especially when Arrianus worked illusions to simulate certain tactics. They could hash out scenarios, then go out in the field and test and refine them. Immediately, Lady Nensela understood the value of the model, and she made liberal use of it to illustrate the giants¡¯ movements across the empire. Lysander was glad now that he¡¯d found an artifex in his unit to make figures to stand-in for the giants. The figurines were radically different from the model soldiers, as he requested. The point was to fix in his officers¡¯ mind that the giants were not like anything they¡¯d dealt with before. ¡°Now they¡¯re coming here,¡± Lady Nensela said, snaking one long index finger over the line representing the Chrysanthemum Highway. ¡°And I should point out they will not march here,¡± she said, swiping one formation of giants. ¡°They will not ride¡±¡ªhere she knocked over models of a horse and gryphon¡ª¡°they are simply going to appear¡±¡ªshe took three model giants standing at the outer corner of the map, sweeping them across the table. Directly outside the model of the fortress. ¡°Do you understand?¡± Around the table, the look on their faces revealed Lysander¡¯s men did indeed understand. Something nagged at him. ¡°One thing,¡± he interjected. ¡°What are their motives? Conquering and holding Rasena Valentis only works if they can get here easily. And you¡¯ve said they¡¯re not from Anshan.¡± ¡°Currently, my hypothesis is that they¡¯re arriving from an unknown Gate, which would answer your question as to the ease of their arrivale. A matter we are investigating,¡± the seer replied. ¡°Their earliest known attack was near the Aerie, and they¡¯ve gone west from there. And let us think for a moment about the kind of conquests that are carried out via Gates. Distance and geography have no meaning, and serve as no obstacle, if you can cross an ocean in the blink of an eye. And notice: they can come to us. We can¡¯t go to their lands and retaliate.¡± Silence. Conquests of distant lands happened often in the Seven Gates Era and beyond. But by the time of the Fourth Cataclysm thousands of years later, the lands comprising Rasena Valentis were down to two Gates, with a scattering of lesser portals. And of course, the giants counted Erebossi among their allies. Suppressing a sigh, Lysander reminded himself that knowing what the giants were up to would only be half the battle. ¡°Seems the giants know about us. They know this is a bad time for us,¡± Arrianus said. The glumness of his tone was echoed in the expressions of the other men. All battles, whenever possible, were fought in spring through autumn. The powers of the venatori were greatest a month before and after the spring equinox. The reapers were most powerful a month before and after the autumn equinox. And the Restorites were most potent nearest the summer solstice. Winter was dangerous. The death magics waxed in power nearest the winter solstice. Injured soldiers could not be so readily healed, and the dead could not be recalled from Erebossa. How perfectly the giants had timed their attack! Oh, the time¡ªper the water clock, at most Lysander had two hours left before the nearest unit arrived. ¡°The worst time indeed,¡± Lady Nensela agreed. ¡°Over and over sorcerers have reported an entity is cutting them off from the spirits. We call it the ¡®Presence.¡¯ An eidolon called it the ¡®Interceptor.¡¯ So not only are your powers weak, you cannot ask the spirits to aid you.¡± Prime Centurion Sejanus huffed. ¡°Devious little bastards. So, on our end, we¡¯re weaker, our weapons can¡¯t dent their armor, and we¡¯re cut off from our allies. On their end, the giants have better weapons, and formidable allies.¡± Bessa suddenly spoke, startling Lysander. ¡°Salamandran acid at least keeps them from regenerating. And Lady Aelia killed them when she liquefied the sand they stood on.¡± Centurion Pyralis leaned forward. Commander of the Salamandra auxiliaries, he was also a Salamandran himself. He caught Lysander¡¯s eye. ¡°So long as I and my unit live, you will have both acid and fire. You have a goodly stock of our acid already. The Atta¡¯u will not roll over us so easily.¡± ¡°You have allies, too, if you will accept them,¡± Edana Nuriel said. ¡°Dragon teeth men¡ªcontrollable dragon teeth men¡ªcourtesy of the family of Optima Philomelos.¡± Dragon teeth warriors? Lysander sat up straighter. The power to sow life was extremely rare. The Sower, whom the Terabinthians called the Speaker, did not grant His power to sorcerers. Instead, sorcerers needed to use magical creatures, such as dragons, if they wished to sow life. The Terabinthian made his heart do somersaults when she took out an elegant scroll case and passed it to the pegasus prime, who sat next to her. Arrianus took out the scroll. His wing-like eyebrows came dangerously close to his hairline as he read it. Lysander held his breath. If Arrianus vouched for the spell ¡­ ¡°Ingenious! And they even solved the¡ªincredible!¡± Though grandfatherly in age, he bounced like a schoolboy. Then he looked up and noticed Lysander and Sejanus. ¡°Ahem. I can use this. I shall see to it.¡± Lysander exhaled. Plans took shape in his mind for how to use those dragon-teeth men. Bessa had been staring at Pyralis. ¡°Centurion. You said Atta¡¯u? That is what Lady Aelia called the giants on the beach.¡± Pyralis shrugged, looking a trifle sheepish. ¡°These giants remind me of legendary monsters. Nightmares of my people. They¡¯re only children¡¯s stories, though.¡± The women stared at him for a long moment before exchanging glances with each other. Before either of the three could speak Sejanus asked, ¡°You spoke of abyssals? This sounds like that play.¡± Lysander blinked. The play? Oh right, the one Sejanus and the others saw on leave in Valentis, and wouldn¡¯t stop talking about. But what in the Abyss made Sejanus think a play would be relevant now? Since when had Sejanus stopped being so relentlessly practical? ¡°The play.¡± Lysander made it a statement, in the carefully neutral tone his men had learned to be wary of. By chance he glanced at her. Surprise radiated from her. Why? Sejanus quickly explained the plot. Arrianus was stroking his chin as if this was all perfectly sane. When Sejanus finished, Lady Nensela unnerved Lysander by asking, ¡°Have you seen it, red gryphon? It would help you now if you have.¡± What? ¡°Is that a prophecy?¡± he asked after a moment. The seer startled him by laughing. Imperial agents weren¡¯t supposed to have a sense of humor. Lady Nensela calmed herself. ¡°Allow me to be proud on behalf of my humble companion. Young Elisabet is the ¡®Ruby Lotus of Larissopolis¡¯ who wrote the play your centurion described. The play is a continuation of a strategy she used in Silura, when she and Edana brought down Duke Gagnon. Bessa used the play to inform, and to sow suspicion against other traitors. It worked, better than I anticipated.¡± Several heartbeats passed as Lysander digested this. The tinge on Bessa¡¯s cheeks betrayed her discomfort, and she quickly looked away. To think of all the evenings he and his inner circle spent trading theories about Gagnon¡¯s betrayal of the empire. She was behind Gagnon¡¯s downfall? Truly? What an interesting skill set the future mother of his children possessed! Again Sejanus found his voice before Lysander did. ¡°Are you an arcana, or an imperial agent? How did you come to be at Red Pointe¡ªwait, so you are the vineyard heiress from the play?¡± ¡°Indeed I am the heiress, centurion¡±¡ªLysander noticed she only answered the final question¡ª¡°And to target my family, Gagnon exploited a weakness in the army. We have worked hard ever since to counter it.¡± ¡°A weakness?¡± Sejanus challenged. His expression said it all: as if she would know. Bessa¡¯s eyes flashed, and her tone carried no apology when she answered him. ¡°Your units don¡¯t speak to each other. Gagnon took all important news routed through him, and fed or blocked them for his own purposes. The commanders in Silura relied on him, and not each other until my vineyard was attacked¡ªafter Edana warned the giants are real.¡± She raised her chin, still staring at Sejanus. ¡°Let me ask: were you aware that Archelaos moved the other garrisons far from Abris? Each hydra and aether we met on the way here thought himself alone in being moved.¡± The officers traded glances with each other. Lysander¡¯s lips tightened. In hindsight, her insight was obvious. Archelaos occupied a similar role as Duke Gagnon, and used that role to the same ends. And the legions were still vulnerable to that line of attack, even though they knew it had happened before. Their enemy was too smart. And we¡¯re too entrenched in old habits. Bessa continued, ¡°We have spent the better part of the year simply convincing your commanders that you¡¯re being lied to about the giants. That, and preparing everyday people to defend themselves, as they cannot hope their garrisons haven¡¯t been suborned or left too ignorant to defend them. The play was the quickest way to accomplish those goals.¡± Lysander knew she didn¡¯t intend her statement as a criticism, but it still stung. Sejanus frowned. ¡°This is a massive weakness indeed,¡± Lysander agreed. He met Sejanus¡¯s gaze. ¡°I think we all focused too much on politics to consider that Gagnon couldn¡¯t possibly be the only traitor. We thought it had to be someone angling to be emperor, and a duke is a perfect suspect. They exploited our assumptions about how things work. It¡¯s something to think about if we survive this battle.¡± Bessa let out a gentle exhale. ¡°Finally. There is one other thing, and this is important: if Archelaos appears, you must not engage him or kill him. Keep him under observation only, until he can be dealt with properly. Otherwise, he might attack you to take your body.¡± She glanced at Arrianus. ¡°Did you notice how the eidolons are banished in the play?¡± ¡°I did,¡± he said. To Lysander he added, ¡°I will see to it.¡± ¡°Will that work for Murena, too?¡± Lysander asked. Lady Nensela believed so. Lysander rose, and addressed the group. They looked to him. Hope gleamed in their eyes. ¡°For every battle we¡¯ve had so far, we¡¯ve always strategized on the premise that we can defeat our enemy. Let¡¯s try something new ¡­¡±
The meeting broke up, but Sejanus stayed behind, as usual. The Old Man habitually asked for his observations in these situations. Sejanus had joined the army at seventeen, and had worked his way to prime centurion. Now fifty-three, he had seen many battles, and served under many officers. Granting him the perfect vantage point to evaluate the Old Man. When Xenakis chose to start as a centurion, Sejanus initially thought he was motivated by their glamorous reputation. However, Xenakis proved to be something other than a spoiled, starstruck youth. The young man earned his way to the red gryphon rank, the highest rank he could achieve, unless he obtained the wealth to join the dragon class of Rasena Valentian society. A class which would come later, Sejanus was sure of it. Xenakis had proved himself educable, and was more than willing to be educated. Even as a fresh-faced boy Xenakis had shown himself a shrewd judge of character, and had wisely picked out good mentors for himself. Including Sejanus. Sejanus thought of the senior officer as a son, and took a father¡¯s pride in his accomplishments. Xenakis was one high-born whose orders he could trust, and Sejanus considered that detail valuable in itself. Now when he considered the plan the Old Man laid out, that trust was bearing fruit. He drummed his fingers against the table as he waited for the room to empty. Because he lingered, he did not miss the thoughtful glance the Siluran gave the Old Man as she rose to leave. Sejanus had previously thought she was someone¡¯s play-pretty; now she worried him. She did not have her knives out for the Old Man, did she? She can¡¯t possibly suspect the Old Man is a traitor. Unless she¡¯s been deceived? Sejanus made a note to himself to ferret out her intentions. She left without saying a word; however, and Sejanus felt oddly unsurprised to observe that the Old Man was watching her leave. Lysander turned to him. ¡°Walk with me.¡± They went outside and headed for the special armory. Built of stone, it was far isolated from the other buildings. Here they stored Salamandran acid in adamantine jars, along with other dangerous items. The building had no door; the only way in was via a keystone. Xenakis, Sejanus, and Arrianus each carried one on their persons. With a keystone, they could pass through the walls. Without hesitation he and Xenakis walked ¡®into¡¯ the wall. A flash of dark, and they were inside. Glowlights, activated by proximity, winked on. Sejanus glanced around the room. It would be emptied long before dawn. If the seer and the other two were to be believed, they were on a suicide mission, like something from the legends. They would die legends by tomorrow night, but the key thing was that they would die. With the beauties in here we might even take a few of those giants with us. Sejanus spoke first. ¡°Well, my wife and young¡¯uns are taken care of. Did you let your father know you won¡¯t be coming home?¡± The Old Man opened a case of adamantine arrowheads and checked inside, as if assuring himself they were still there. None of their past battles ever presented a foe with armor thick enough to need the arrows. Otherwise, adamantine arrows were reserved for dragon slaying. And hopefully now, giant-slaying. ¡°Where is Arrianus?¡± Lysander asked. They couldn¡¯t start without Arrianus; on their walk the Old Man laid out an idea he had, but he needed the sorcerer to vet the feasibility of it. ¡°I glimpsed him talking with the investigator, the Siluran one. Crazy thing about her.¡± The Old Man¡¯s head jerked up. ¡°What is?¡± His tone was sharp, and Sejanus wondered if he also suspected the young woman of whetting knives against him. ¡°Well, I just never would have expected one of them barbarians to come to the purple. I mean, when you called her ¡®the honorable Elisabet Philomelos,¡¯ it occurred to me her papa might have been in the legion, and she¡¯s one of them optimates with land and stuff. And then I realized that when I retire, I will be ¡®honorable,¡¯ and so will my kids. And if a Siluran can rise as high as Optima Philomelos, why shouldn¡¯t my kids go even further than me? Truth be told, I never thought I would get this far.¡± ¡°I see,¡± the Old Man said, his expression softening a bit. He drifted over to jars of water dragon venom. ¡°Before we go any further, I suppose I should warn you the ¡®barbarian¡¯ is betrothed to me.¡± Sejanus sputtered, so astonished that he stumbled backward, and nearly cartwheeled himself out of the building. Only the Old Man¡¯s laughter brought him back to his senses. ¡°You want to say that again?¡± He had always teased the younger officer about finding himself a wife, but Xenakis always demurred, never once hinting that someone had already taken care of that little necessity for him. Xenakis¡¯s lips quivered with suppressed laughter. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯d like to sit down? No? Well, let me explain.¡± Sejanus listened calmly as Xenakis filled him in. When the Old Man finished, Sejanus took a moment to let it sink in. He finally said, ¡°She sounds like wife material. Sir. If she can keep her head when giants come knocking, she can be trusted to look after things when you go on a mission. If she¡¯s wily enough to take down a duke and all these high-and-mighty people, she¡¯ll do fine watching your back against those backstabbers you gotta run with when you move up from here. Sir. And in the evenings, you get to talk about the fancy stories you read with a lady who can write ¡¯em for you. I liked her play. She talks pretty, too.¡± Xenakis shook his head, but he could not hide the smile that flitted across his lips. Sejanus sighed. T¡¯was a pity the Old Man¡¯s future wife had only arrived on the eve of their deaths. If only the two of them could enjoy some happiness together first. Sejanus said softly. ¡°It¡¯s been an honor serving you.¡± ¡°It¡¯s been an honor to have served the empire with you. You made me the officer I am, Sejanus, and I won¡¯t forget that. Not now, and not when we cross to Erebossa.¡± The men lapsed into silence. After a while Sejanus asked, ¡°Will she leave tonight? Should I find you a priest? The town should have plenty of reapers.¡± He thought, fleetingly, that she could potentially escape with the Old Man¡¯s posterity. If the gods smiled upon them. Xenakis stroked his chin. ¡°I wish I could send her away. But the seer has already told me she will play a part in what¡¯s to come. I have to trust her. I have to trust that Bessa will live through this.¡± Chapter 37: Reckoning XXXVII Reckoning In which Bessa and Lysander come to terms Hours later the preparations were still ongoing. Every legion in Urashto had made it to Abris, and in the end supplied the fortress with twenty thousand soldiers, plus auxiliaries. Bessa earlier suggested that Arrianus and the weaponsmiths consult with Saavedra and the Rhabdomachaeum, and learn what advances had come to light in giant-slaying weapons. She and Edana had brought to Abris their remaining trunk full of thunder maces. Thank Khratu, the legions of Silura had spent the intervening months developing a doctrine for using or facing the thunder maces in combat, and Saavedra and Roswald shared it with the officers of Abris. Lady Nensela closeted herself with the seers, dividing up tasks with scryers and prophets. Meanwhile, Bessa and Edana used their imperial agent personae to organize an evacuation of the civilians surrounding Abris. Once night fell everyone kept a fretful eye upon the Phoenix constellation¡¯s rise in the sky. The zenith of the Phoenix, when its tail loomed directly over head, signaled midnight¡¯s arrival. And it was not until midnight when they finally satisfied themselves they had done everything possible to prepare. ¡°¡­and that¡¯s how things stand,¡± Edana said to Bessa. They walked on the parapet, which gave them a clear view of the smoke rising to the heavens from the killing fields. Below, on the fields, sorcerers were burning hecatombs to their respective gods: Twenty deer sacrificed in offering to the Huntress, and an equal number of doves for the Restorer. Sheep and oxen, twenty each, were given to the Reaper and the Sea Lord. To Khratu went the aurochs, twenty of their kind. One hundred burnt offerings in all, perfuming the air such that Bessa and Edana found their mouths watering. The dying moon shone down upon them. It was still mostly full, for it had not yet dissolved to its half shape. The time had come, Lady Nensela had said. The dawn would bring the burning sky. And Murena. Bessa nodded at Edana¡¯s words, barely paying attention. All of her attention was fixed on a soldier ahead, who saluted when he saw them. She nodded at him, then waited until she and Edana were well past him before saying, ¡°Have you noticed how people jump when we make requests? I wish I owned my own purple clothes; this is marvelous.¡± ¡°They¡¯re moving especially faster with you,¡± Edana observed. ¡°As if they¡¯re afraid I¡¯ll take their head? Yes, and they¡¯re all bad at hiding their surprise at seeing us, you know. I overheard someone wondering how a barbarian Siluran could have purple clothes.¡± ¡°Oh, I hadn¡¯t considered that part,¡± Edana said. With a furtive glance about she lowered her voice. ¡°I heard some slaves gossiping, and the soldiers as well. They know.¡± ¡°Know what?¡± ¡°That you¡¯re his woman.¡± Edana folded her arms, her expression daring Bessa to challenge her. Bessa couldn¡¯t stop her mouth from falling open. ¡°What?!¡± Edana¡¯s lips curved and her eyes danced. ¡°One centurion warned another not to make impertinent remarks about you, in case it gets back to Lysander. Let¡¯s just say they took the possibility very seriously.¡± ¡°Why would they?¡± ¡°Until today, Red Gryphon Xenakis was the highest ranking officer here, and has the respect of his men, and apparently is a man of some influence. By their logic crossing you is crossing him, which they are loath to do. And pleasing you is pleasing him, which they are eager to do. And if he¡¯s betrothed to a woman wearing purple, then the officers figure he has a chariot that can take them places, too. So there you have it.¡± ¡°But I-I¡¯m-I am not,¡± she stammered. ¡°I mean, I am. I mean I¡¯m betrothed to him, but it doesn¡¯t mean¡ªthey can¡¯t think it means¡ª¡± Edana raised her eyebrows. Bessa took deep breaths, struggling to get the words out. ¡°He hasn¡¯t said he wants to marry me,¡± she said quietly. ¡°In all these years, all I¡¯ve had from him is silence. No letters, no invitations to visit him, or asking to visit me. And he didn¡¯t have to search for me. Our betrothal was the choice his father and my grandmother made.¡± A wave of pain took her breath away. ¡°But ignoring me¡ªignoring me was his choice. I share in no reflected glory of his. At home I am first among women in my own right. Here, that rank is for his wife. Which he does not want me to be.¡± She looked down, unable to hold back her dismay. Or her tears. Sobered, Edana clasped Bessa¡¯s shoulders. She waited until Bessa met her eyes before she spoke. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Bessa. I shouldn¡¯t have teased you. Look. At first I was angry with him, but I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s fair. Look at the differences between you: he was already in the legion when you were betrothed. All these years he¡¯s enjoyed the authority to form his own plans and make his own choices. Of course he would resent having a choice like who he would marry imposed on him. On the other hand, you were twelve, and assumed your grandmother made a choice agreeable to you, and all your thoughts about him revolved around that. You grew up with the betrothal.¡± Unsettled, Bessa could only keep silent. Gently, Edana added, ¡°I can only guess what he imagined about you before today¡ªfor all we know, his father is a fool with terrible judgement and bad taste in women. But, I saw how he looked at you once he understood everything: how his face changed, how his eyes lit up, how surprised he seemed¡ªpleasantly surprised. Give him his due for seeing what¡¯s in front of him.¡± Bessa stared into the far distance, seeing nothing. Back and forth her mind went, turning over her first encounter with Lysander in her mind. My nightmares did not come true, she realized. Ever since leaving home she¡¯d dreaded meeting Lysander, convinced he would declare her unfit, and dismiss her at once. When he was so coldly formal all her worries had come crashing down. Every instinct screamed at her to flee the room. But now she had time to think. Truly, he had treated her decently. And while initially she was relieved, closer reflection brought her to her senses. Yes, he was polite. A basic standard of conduct she would not give much weight to. She, too, must see what was in front of her, thus far. Thus far, he had earned her respect. Like Edana, she watched how he treated his soldiers, and how they responded to him. The slaves did not cringe or cower before him, nor cast disparaging glances behind his back, suggestive of his having a kindly nature. She, as an executive to a large enterprise, could judge for herself how well he handled the affairs of the fortress, even taking into account her ignorance of the military side. From where she sat he was thorough, efficient, and wise. In their strategy session she found his inventiveness and risk management reassuring and inspiring. Might she come to care for him? Love him? Walking away would be so easy, if he was obviously the wrong choice. Except he was not so obviously wrong. Now she feared she would regret it if he, or they, opted to snuff out all chance of success together. The thought of rejection pained her, physically first, then down to her core. ¡°Bessa?¡± Bessa squared her shoulders. ¡°I will talk to him.¡±
Reports came in left and right. There was no sign of any troop movement from Anshan. However, Lysander checked on naval movements in the west. Messages poured in of unusual activity in the Borealis Ocean. Events at Abris reached the point now that any further input from him would be sheer nannying. Lysander had his hands full with trying to manage certain draco hydras who were insisting this was no matter for a ¡°mere red gryphon¡± to handle. As if they were other than puling nineteen-year-olds who barely knew their swords from their xylospongium, the sponges on the sticks used in the latrines. Their fathers bought their commissions; they were meant to rely upon the centurions. But they coveted the glory of fighting giants and saving the day, though they had yet to be blooded in more ¡°mundane¡± combat. At least one of the new-coming aethers was a sensible thirty-something-year-old. As more of an administrator he had never faced anything more than a minor skirmish, but knew he was mortal and that he must not be careless with the lives of his soldiers. Between the two of them they forced the youngsters to acknowledge this coming battle was not for men who had only their tactical manuals to go by. When they appealed to Lady Nensela¡ªapparently hoping her purple gown meant she was the Voice of the Emperor¡ªshe deferred to Lysander, quelling overt complaints. The other two women were useful as well. Between their purple clothes and signet rings, Bessa and Edana Nuriel were masterful at cutting through layers of crap and confusion. Even better, if he passed orders to the newcomers through them, things happened far quicker. The officers wouldn¡¯t ordinarily take orders from civilians, but reason demanded obedience to women who had the emperor¡¯s ear and wielded his authority. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. He forced himself to acknowledge they impressed him. She impressed him. All during the sacrifices he made with his chief priests, he kept thinking of the reports he received about her. How well she acquitted herself, bolstering the efforts of his officers to keep the townspeople calm as they evacuated to the mountain caves. With nothing else requiring his immediate attention he discreetly inquired, and found out she was last seen on the parapet. As he hoped, she was alone when he saw her again. She was approaching the stairs leading from the rear parapet to the back gate. With her stride so purposeful the hem of her dress swished about her ankles, giving him a peek. The silk folds of her gown draped over her, clinging to her curves as the breeze caressed her. Lysander shook his head, amused at nature¡¯s attempt to throw the dice against him. Still, he took a moment to observe her while she was unaware of him. So this is she, he said to himself. By unspoken agreement they both kept things strictly professional. Although, he did have one moment of grim amusement when Sejanus relayed that earlier, one of the jumped-up hydras had attempted to suborn Bessa in his aim to wrest control from Lysander. Sejanus couldn¡¯t stop laughing as he quoted what she said to bring the boy to heel. Watch his back against backstabbers indeed, and Sejanus made a point of reminding him. Bessa forced him to start from scratch in his ideas about her, just by virtue of being a real person and not a figment of his imagination. A gut-punch, but one he could roll with. However, while she gave him a favorable impression it wasn¡¯t the same as knowing her. Just because she unwittingly demolished his preconceptions, it didn¡¯t mean he had enough to go on. She intrigued him. To think, she was behind the duke¡¯s fall, and the Lady Nensela considered her an able weapon. Pride in her warmed him from the inside out. Even Drusilla never risked her life for the empire! Drusilla. How ridiculous to think of her! Bessa, and her potential status as his wife, was too important for him to consider her only in comparison to his father¡¯s long-dead wife. The woman needed to be considered on her own terms. How had he ever been silly enough to think the main criterion for a wife should be her resemblance to a woman he had never met? Merely so his father would respect her? Surely what mattered more was if Lysander respected Bessa? Bessa reached the last step, and turned. Their eyes met, and she paused. Lysander crossed the road to meet her. Cool, formal, she inclined her head to him. Suddenly, doubts reared up. Curse it all, there were no maps to a woman¡¯s mind or heart. ¡°Good night,¡± he said evenly. ¡°Is everything to your satisfaction? Iantha is at your disposal if there¡¯s anything you need.¡± Iantha was the head of the fortress slaves. Normally she served only him, but she always fussed at him for not providing a grand mistress for her to attend to. What was it with these old people wanting him to marry? ¡°Thank you,¡± she replied. ¡°Everything is fine.¡± Still standing there. Not attempting to escape him. So ¡­ ¡°Will you walk with me?¡± Bessa nodded, and they fell into step together. Lysander chose the perimeter road surrounding the fortress grounds. A choice which allowed him to keep an eye on things, and avoid casual listeners. ¡°I must ask you to forgive me for my lack of graciousness when we met,¡± he began. ¡°Your arrival startled me. When I first heard your last name I thought you were an emissary from your family, coming to tell me the betrothal was revoked.¡± Her eyebrows lifted, and he forced himself not to smile at her expression. ¡°Yet how disappointed would you have been? Given that we are strangers to each other,¡± she pointed out. ¡°Our families made this arrangement to suit their needs and goals. Like any other betrothal ours is a business transaction, not a reflection of our personal desires.¡± ¡°Oh? A business transaction. Yes, I suppose it might seem that way to you.¡± ¡°But not to you?¡± How to explain? ¡°Well, it¡¯s part of why I was less than enthusiastic. You see, when I was a little boy, my father put an idea in my head. His first wife had been perfect for him, a true companion, and he loved her with everything he had. Why should I not have the same? That¡¯s what I asked myself. But marrying you seemed like I was cheating myself out of a companion.¡± Those words weren¡¯t what he planned. By her sharp inhale he knew he was not the only one astonished by what he¡¯d said. However, he felt as if a blindfold had been removed from his own eyes: Behind his fears of his father¡¯s intentions was the fact that as long as his father exerted any influence in his life, he would never have a true wife. Lysander¡¯s twenty-fifth birthday was bittersweet; because otherwise his father¡¯s death would have been his best hope. His stomach clenched, but he couldn¡¯t shrink away from the bald truth that he¡¯d been living his life waiting for his father to die. But here was Bessa. And whether his father intended to or not, he¡¯d broken the pattern: Bessa was a worthy first choice. Not yet another test to prove his worth to his father. ¡°That¡¯s not what I feared,¡± she said at last. ¡°I want a companion, too. When I was a little girl I, too, heard stories. About my grandparents, who raised me. My father¡¯s mother told me this wonderful story about meeting my grandfather and how their love grew, and I wanted the same for myself.¡± She spoke of Silura, and how husbands and wives there were partners. Ah, at least she had that idea in common with him. And she thought it proper that Siluran parents didn¡¯t wield nearly the same power over their children as his father held over him. ¡°I trust my grandmother, and never doubted she would choose well for me. What I didn¡¯t trust, what I couldn¡¯t be sure of, is whether I could hold my end of the bargain.¡± ¡°Your end?¡± Bessa folded her arms, holding her elbows in each hand, a defensive block. Mentally bracing himself, Lysander waited. ¡°I never in my life sought or rejoiced in anyone¡¯s death, until the duke.¡± Cold hatred vibrated in her voice. Lysander took a step back. ¡°If he killed my family, he would have destroyed everything. Do you doubt this? I know how the rest of you in the empire view my people. Did you think my people to be cave dwellers?¡± Oh damn, she caught that. Still, he nodded. ¡°Grandmother is a visionary. Not like a seer, but better. All her life she¡¯s seen things as they are, and seen ways to make them better. For Rasena Valentians, donating a library or starting a healing school is simply good for your reputation. Competition for distinction and prestige amongst your peers. But in Falcon¡¯s Hollow, I cannot take for granted someone will build a hospital. Not wish for one, but build one.¡± Bessa took a deep breath. Riveted, Lysander waited. ¡°Grandmother thinks the point of each day is to learn something new. And it doesn¡¯t matter who teaches her. Neither tribe nor country matters, nor whether you are rich or a slave. She respects what¡¯s in here.¡± Bessa tapped her forehead for emphasis. ¡°And it seems to me too many ¡®civilized¡¯ Rasena Valentians and ¡®barbaric¡¯ Silurans share an unwillingness to learn from people who aren¡¯t like them. I never before appreciated how special Grandmother really is.¡± Hmm. So this was what she valued, what she respected. Commendable, he acknowledged to himself. Especially given how he¡¯d always dismissed her family as social climbing upstarts. Truly they sounded like philanthropists, with a genuine mission to better the lives of those around them. Glory had its place, but her family apparently practiced the same noblesse oblige as his family. For the Philomelos family; however, the stakes were higher: they were the pinnacle in their environment. Having no competition also meant having no one to pick up the slack if they should fall. While many people readily tallied their lacks, not many took action to remedy them. This alone obliged him to give the Philomelos family their due. At the first available opportunity he must sit down with Bessa¡¯s grandmother, who sounded remarkable. When he had met her, he paid no attention to her, thinking her one of his father¡¯s cronies. Only after Lysander returned to duty in the legion did his father trouble to explain the old woman¡¯s significance, when he wrote to say he¡¯d betrothed Lysander to her granddaughter. The Philomelos family sounded like an interesting family to marry into. More to the point, Bessa had absorbed their ways and cherished them. If she bore his children, these were the ideas she would cultivate in them. ¡°But you said you didn¡¯t believe you could hold up your end of the bargain,¡± he carefully reminded her. ¡°What bargain?¡± She flashed him a mirthless smile, which he took like another punch to the gut. Could he get a genuine smile out of her? By the gods he would make her laugh. With a sweep of her hand she encompassed her luscious self from her head to her feet. ¡°I was raised for one purpose, which is to continue my family¡¯s good works. Fine teachers instructed me on what¡¯s out there, that I may seek after it. Not solely to exalt myself. For the sake of improving Falcon¡¯s Hollow, and Silura, and of course, Rasena Valentis.¡± ¡°Those are excellent goals,¡± he pointed out. ¡°You realize, Grandmother picked your family because you are wide ranging. The Xenaxis family has prestige and power, which I am to use to further those goals. But it¡¯s all in vain if I am unequal to the task, and I have had occasion to wonder about that.¡± He cocked an eyebrow. After all she¡¯d done, she doubted herself? ¡°The man I marry must also share my goals. Grandmother¡¯s goals,¡± she emphasized, looking him full on. ¡°Those terms were how I understood our betrothal. Terms agreeable enough, I thought. But before I left home I began to want more than that. I wanted my own Nikolaos.¡± Who? Of all of them, this gut-punch hit him so hard he rocked back slightly. ¡°Nikolaos,¡± he said tightly. This time she did look a little amused when she smiled. ¡°Papouli, I mean.¡± Eyes shining, she told him the story of how he proposed to her grandmother, on the battlements of a fortress during their last stand against ¡°the Furi.¡± As he listened, Lysander kept glancing at her ring finger, which bore her betrothal ring. The pledge between her grandmother and his father. A pledge now inadequate, for him and for Bessa. When her tale ended, he stepped closer to her. Gently, he took her chin in his thumb and index finger, and met her gaze. This close to her he saw her breath quicken, and the rapid rise and fall of her bosom. Good, this was no easier for her than it was for him. ¡°We share similar ideals, Bessa,¡± he said quietly. ¡°And I would feel cheated not to know you. Let us make our own pledge, together.¡± Did she stop breathing? Certainly she stopped blinking for a few heartbeats. Daring for more, Lysander embraced her upper arms. Relief surged through him at once when she gripped his arms and held tight in response. ¡°Let us swear this: for our own honor, we shall not marry unless we assure ourselves of mutual respect and affection for one another. We shall not marry unless we believe ourselves suited as friends, confidants, and lovers. If either of us believes the other is unsuited, then we shall part, without rancor or spite.¡± Her lashes fluttered, but she managed a nod. Continuing he added, ¡°Let us also acknowledge this battle we face may kill us both. Out of respect for that fact, I will tell you now I am pleased with what I see and know of you thus far. I call the gods as my witness that I will do my best to live long enough to know you better. Let them also witness that I promise to do my best to ensure you live, that you may do what you are meant to do.¡± Bessa¡¯s voice was steady as she answered him. ¡°I, Elisabet Bessa Philomelos, give you my word before the gods. And, as I also recognize the shortness of our time, I, too, am pleased to meet you, Lysander Xenakis. Know also that I will strive to survive this battle, and do all in my power to aid your survival. These things I swear.¡± Chapter 38: The Burning Sky XXXVIII The Burning Sky In which Murena appears Dawn came early. In the Valley of Abris it was nearly the fourth hour after midnight when the sky began to brighten. The sun was nowhere to be seen. The night sky was lit as with a green flame, trending to violet and crimson at the tips. Vivid lights swirled and shimmered in the firmament, blossoming from teal to violet to crimson to yellow and back to teal again. White sparks arced between stars that glittered as gems nestled on silk of midnight blue. Not to be outshone were the stars of the Hound, a winter constellation that heralded the coming of the Huntress for the spring equinox. Some observers clung to the idea its blazing radiance was a sign from the Huntress, that they should stand fast and not flinch. Other observers fastened their fears on the agate moon, for its white clouds had given way to a turbulent red wreath. On the coasts of the Borealis they were still on the previous side of midnight when the lights came. Ships patrolling the shores stood out starkly against the horizon, striking trepidation in those who had remained in their homes near the coasts. In Kyanopolis the morning birds trilled at midnight, startling residents out of their slumber ¡­ except for the Watches, already on their guards by the emperor¡¯s order. One hour past midnight, in Karnassus, the people awakened. Upon seeing the sky they clutched their amulets and prayed against Erebossi. In Rasena the street gangs raced back to their hideouts, determined to avoid being out in the open on such a night. In Valentis, Ziri kept watch over Karnassus and the Aerie, eying each city through his scrying mirrors. Halie stood by his side, at the ready. Emperor Drusus Caecilianus Tarkhana was also ready. Within his palace he had armored himself, and set his Drakon Guard on alert. In his own oraculum he kept a watchful eye over his empire. By his side in this vigil were his wife and Lysimachus, son of the Sea Lord. Only the Cloudwalkers in the Far North were used to such a show, but they knew this night to be different, and those not on watch took care to shutter their windows. In Helisius, Lord Senet stood on a hilltop. The gaze he fastened upon the dying moon was not filled with fear, but rather bewilderment, for the moon was mostly full. The giants were to appear during an eclipse of the sun. But an eclipse was impossible while the moon gave light. What did this mean? He looked to the east. Deep in his bones Senet knew Nensela would be there, and he bowed his head, praying to Amyntas and Khratu that she would survive this battle, too. An eerie calm settled over the nations. In Silura, Aurelia Cunovendi organized the civilians who sought shelter in the Falcon¡¯s Hollow Watch. She divided them into groups, some to aid the healers, others to aid the staff, and the fastest of the children to deliver what was needed where. Pegasus Prime Senovara set fire drakes to guard every road and bridge leading into Falcon¡¯s Hollow. Draco Aether Roswald patrolled the skies on his own dragon. All that could be done to fortify Red Pointe was done. His wife,Verena, grimly reminded him that any building left unfinished in the reconstruction could be used as a weapon if need-be. Bessa¡¯s maternal grandparents, the Pendrys, coordinated with Draco Aether Saavedra, sending scouts of dragon-teeth men to patrol the shores and the forests. Grandfather Pendry stationed a few to act as sentries on behalf of Two Rivers. In Sir?nasse, the Rhabdomachaeum¡¯s senior teachers kept watch with their students, heeding the words of their own seers. Young Pippa clutched her staff tighter as she paced the atrium. The staff would amplify her power, which grew stronger everyday, but not enough to keep her terror at bay. She crossed her hand over her heart, feeling it thunder beneath her chiton, where she hid the amulet Lenora had made for her. Constructed from dragon blood resin, it would bind up any wound Pippa received, allowing her time to get to a healer. Returning the favor, Pippa made Lenora an amulet to protect her from the elements, repelling lightning long enough for her to flee to safety if she were attacked with the thunder maces. Before the girls took their stations they made offerings in the temple, asking for the safety of their families. As they left, Pippa drew from her purse the catoblepas aegis her cousin Bessa had given them. Lenora had no offensive magic, she pointed out. The aegis might make the difference for her. In Eitan¡¯s Blue Crescent, Keziah took shelter in a temple. From the moment she arrived in their ancestral land, she made it a priority to spread Edana¡¯s warnings of the giants and the eidolons. The prophets attended to their own visions, and set their watches accordingly. Seth, Keziah¡¯s betrothed, had worked day and night in helping to fortify the temple. In the Valley of Abris, everyone was in place, and the watches were kept as Lysander¡¯s centurions set them. And suddenly, they were not alone. Hidden away in the mountains and on secret ridges, the infantry kept watch. Battle scryers assigned to each centurion surveyed the floor of the valley, via crystal globes. Where before their eyes beheld only frosted meadow, there now appeared three hundred giants. The legions of Rasena Valentis were ready. Glowlights did not aid them, and on this night their use was not required: the eldritch display in the sky let them see well enough. The venatori moved first, enveloping whole units of giants in shield domes, trapping them in place. Below the shields, the ground shook and shifted, breaking the giants¡¯ formations. Those not trapped by shields were not left unscathed, however. Vines and brambles shot up from the ground, snaking around the giants¡¯ massive legs and pinning them into place. Winds gusted, pelting their helmets with dirt, dust, and ground up glass. Slowing them enough to ensure they could not flee when the boulders tumbled from the mountains, crushing them. The venatori broke off their attack. The first move made, they waited to see how the giants would respond. The giants did not keep them in suspense. Immediately, their sorcerers destroyed the shields and vaporized the vines. Scattering to and fro, the giants broke their orderly formations. Muscles locked in tension for every soldier of Rasena Valentis observing the battlefield: scattered troops usually signaled defeat. Lightning flashed. Lightning which heralded a weapon previously concealed amongst the columns of giants: three platforms, each bearing a titanic thunder mace. An extraordinary clap of thunder echoed through the valley. Over two miles away, the basilica dome covering the fortress headquarters shattered in an explosion of glass and metal. On a hidden ridge beyond the fortress, the awestruck men of Lysander¡¯s wing unit swore. Inside his cloak Lysander shuddered. Silently he thanked the gods for the reports he¡¯d studied from Red Pointe. Because of them, he had already evacuated everyone from the fortress. The probes at the ends of the thunder maces closed after firing the first round. Now they again spread apart, signaling their next volley. This time, the venatori denied them success, as a shield blossomed around the fortress and absorbed the lightning. A cheer went up from the observation deck of the mountainside aerie where Lady Nensela, Bessa, and Edana watched the battle. Ancient stone arcades lined the face of the aerie, which opened to the valley below. The women took up posts beneath one arch. To their left, Pegasus Prime Arrianus commanded the aerie from the central arcade. To his left awaited the dragon-teeth men, sitting astride on fire drakes as they awaited his orders. Seeing the shield hold against lightning strikes made Arrianus smile in satisfaction. ¡°Let the headmasters at the Rhabdo know their spell worked,¡± he murmured to a messenger beside him, a junior scryer bearing a globe attuned to the school. Then he turned to look back at the hive of activity behind him, where seers, sorcerers, beastmasters, and soldiers kept busy at assorted tasks. His eyes fell on his seasoned battle scryers, who were clustered about a bronze fountain of water in the center of the aerie. ¡°Time to take their toys away.¡± The senior scryers were ready, speaking into their globes to their counterparts on the battlefield. Quickly enough, the ground beneath the thunder mace platforms opened, swallowing the gigantic weapons utterly, along with the giants who stood within a fifty foot radius. The giants reacted. Scattered though they were, they still marched straight for the fortress. But so far everything happened as though choreographed in a play. Someone would have to break the dance. The giants obliged. Again lightning flashed in the sky. In a flash of fury the lightning snaked all the way to the ground, before radiating outward and setting the terrain ablaze. Leaving the Rasena Valentians no time to react, for as soon as the blaze caught it vanished. A strange haze shimmered in its wake, red and thick. Edana tensed. Arrianus turned, his eyes scanning the bird cages and perches along the back wall. Raptors, all of them hooded, were attended to by the falconers¡ªbeastmasters who controlled birds of prey. ¡°Luxius,¡± he called to the falconer prime. The falconer prime slipped a hood from one of the falcons and indicated the bird should come to his armored wrist. Luxius brought the bird to Arrianus, stroking its feathers and prattling to it all the while. ¡°I trust this one is not your favorite?¡± Arrianus asked. With a sigh, Luxius nodded. One word from him and the bird flew to the valley below, into the mist. There it met its doom. First its feathers curled, a scant three heartbeats before the bird itself burst into flame. Within five heartbeats the falcon perished, with nothing left but ash. Bessa recoiled, horrified; several other witnesses swore. Luxius let out a long sigh. ¡°Banish the shield,¡± was all Arrianus said in response. The fell haze surrounded the fortress, burning a thirty-foot chasm in the ground. Isolated on this makeshift island, only the main path to the fortress remained remained intact. Soldiers attacking on foot must now approach the giants from the front. Bessa and Edana looked to Arrianus, who did not appear alarmed at all by the turn of events. Calmly he watched the giants approach the fortress proper. Just as the giants came within two miles of the walls, Arrianus¡¯s battle scryer relayed another message. ¡°Sejanus requests a warm greeting for the giants.¡± Archers, stationed on an artificial earthen ridge concealed by illusion¡ªnot the high points¡ªloosed their volley. Adamantine arrowheads, barbed in the Ta-Setian style and tipped with Salamandran acid, made short work of any giant they struck. Prompted by the arrowheads, the giants hurriedly resumed their tight formations. Almost instantly their sorcerers shielded them in domes impenetrable by the arrowheads. Leaving the giants free to continue their progress. And still they found no sign of Murena. Lady Nensela¡¯s globe glowed red. Quietly, she answered the call. Knowing that Lysander¡¯s battle scryers were on the other side of the call, Bessa subtly attempted to overhear. Separate colors designated each unit of battle scryers. The seers¡¯ globes turned red when they were speaking to command officers, blue for the sorcerers, and green for auxiliary units. Lady Nensela looked up, and caught Arrianus¡¯s eye. ¡°The truth-seers believe they¡¯ve located Murena,¡± she said. Silence, from everyone in the room. After a moment Arrianus asked, ¡°I thought Erebossi can¡¯t be scryed?¡± She nodded. ¡°That¡¯s why I assigned the truth-seers this task.¡± ¡°Say again?¡± ¡°A battlefield is no place to summon an Erebossi, so I thought it logical Murena might be here already, but hidden. Truth-seers can penetrate illusions, or at least detect them, so I asked yours to test my hypothesis. Now they have verified my suspicions. See yonder.¡± All eyes turned to where she pointed, a particularly tight cluster of giants in the central column of the formations. By command of Arrianus, the venatori caused stalagmites to shoot from the ground, impaling the giants. Waves of giants fell, but the tight cluster remained intact, even as the shield barrier failed. ¡°Spartoi! Bite!¡± commanded Arrianus. Awaiting this very moment, one hundred dragon-teeth men had sat restlessly upon a fleet fire drakes. Swiftly they flew to their prey, with the drakes raining fire, and the dragon-teeth men raining swords. Their adamantine blades sliced through the giants¡¯ armor with ease. The Salamandran acid coating their swords ensured no giant they felled would arise again. Shielded, the sown men moved with impunity through the midst of the painfully slow giants. Bessa held her breath. The Pendry magic showed its worth, for the sworn men never gave way to mindless frenzy. Seeing their enemy driven before them, the sown men restrained their speed, cutting off only those nearest to them. Toying with them. But the giants refused to play. Coppery light swirled about them, obscuring them so utterly that it took several minutes to realize what they¡¯d done. The giants vanished. ¡°So they teleport without portals,¡± Edana said, voicing everyone¡¯s amazement. Ziri needed water to teleport. What element did the giants require? Barely a moment after she spoke the giants reappeared, behind the walls of the fortress. Ordinarily their presence there would deny the Rasena Valentians the tactics they were using thus far. Ordinarily. ¡°Whew,¡± Arrianus exclaimed. ¡°I thought they¡¯d never get there. Those dragon-teeth fellows lit a nice fire under them.¡± Their task accomplished, the dragon-teeth men moved into their next designated position, at the mountain peak opposite the aerie. In the meantime, Arrianus rushed over to a set of floor-length scrying mirrors arranged in a semi circle around the bronze fountain. From there he watched what was happening inside the fortress grounds. Once again came a crimson glow from the battle scryer¡¯s globe. ¡°The Old Man requests the welcoming party. Deploy the welcoming party, please.¡± This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. In response, Arrianus returned to his post in the arcade. Working with the other venatori he instantly re-covered the fortress in a shield, trapping the giants inside. Beneath the shield the giants¡¯ fire mist was of no use, for they alone would be harmed. Quickly the giants formed ranks, each line protecting the other. Neither right nor left were vulnerable. Watching the events now through the scrying mirrors, Bessa unconsciously grabbed Edana¡¯s arm. If the giants were somehow aware of what happened at Red Pointe they would know not to bring down the walls. Post-battle, Roswald and Saavedra had speculated the giants had intended to kill them all at once by reducing Red Pointe to rubble, just as Edana had sought to kill all the giants massed in one place. With a roar the giants aimed their thunder maces at the shields above them. The shields did not yield. But all was not still. Like a flood of lava upon a village, the walls moved as one, contracting the space surrounding the fortress. Buildings were not spared, devoured into the walls so that the walls thickened, leaving even less space for the giants. However, when it must have seemed to the invaders that all was lost, the great walls stopped. The barracks, workshops, granaries, the armory¡ªthese inner buildings lined the courtyard, and remained unscathed. Whether they willed it or not, the giants were now obliged to herd themselves into the courtyards. Yet instead, they squeezed into the spaces between the remaining buildings, carefully avoiding the inner squares. Now all was still, for the defenders of Rasena Valentis and her would-be conquerors both: no intelligent being would fail to recognize the courtyards were meant as killing floors. ¡°What do you think they¡¯ll do?¡± Arrianus asked, addressing the room in general. ¡°Destroy the walls, or herd themselves into the courtyard? Or a third option?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you and the Old Man have a bet riding on this?¡± a battle scryer asked, not looking up from his globe. ¡°You want in?¡± The pegasus prime eyed Bessa and Edana. ¡°Do imperial agents take bets? Would you stake your purple cloaks?¡± Sternly Bessa replied, ¡°I will not wager at all, and certainly not against your commander. Although, if I were a giant, I would want a third option.¡± Arrianus smiled wolfishly. Edana nodded her agreement with Bessa. The giants took the third option. A singular giant stepped forward. Golden armor distinguished him from all his kind. Was he their king? Legate? Whatever he might be, he thrust out his right arm, holding aloft a staff surmounted by a crystal. The ground shook when he struck his staff upon it. Suddenly the crystal glowed, with such brightness that Bessa and Edana wondered anew if the giants possessed eyes. The sorcerer-king aimed the crystal staff at the walls. At first the walls cracked. Trembling and buckling, the stones burst apart all at once, then vanished into a vortex, which unfurled like smoke from the crystal. Everything in its path was swallowed into it. The leader swung his arm, encompassing every inch of the walls in front of them. Soon enough, only pebbles were left of the once-mighty walls of Abris. Other sorcerer-giants followed his example, using their own staffs to destroy the remaining parts of the perimeter wall. The shield narrowed. Where before it clearly encompassed the surrounding grounds of the fortress, it now overflowed. Like liquid moved to a new container, it filled the space once occupied by the walls, constricting the giants just as surely as they were before they destroyed the walls. Mercy was not on offer now. Relentless, implacable, the sorcerers of Rasena Valentis willed the shield dome to contract, forcing the giants onto the killing floors. Via the fountain, the truth-seers were still tracking the illusory mass of giants. As one they shouted, pointing to the space where they knew Murena to be. Warning that came not a moment too soon. The too-tight cluster of giants vanished in a flash of smoke. One giant stood where five once did. Standing heads above even the sorcerer-king, this giant could not be missed. The lone giant dissolved in a cloud of smoke, which swirled up in the center of the courtyard. Bessa and Edana held their breaths, remembering the colossal gigalion of Red Pointe. Matted hair brushed against the tip of the shield¡¯s apex, threatening to go higher. Swirling ever down, the smoke next revealed long ears terminating in sharp tips. Unable to look away, none missed the revelation of the horrible visage emerging into view. Flames sparked from twin red orbs in his face. Long arms ended not in hands, but in a writhing mass of fifty eels each. The eel! Outstretched wings strained against the shield barrier. Scaly human legs turned into coiled viper tails, where Murena¡¯s calves and feet should be. The son of the Abyssal Serpent threw back his head back and opened his maw, revealing the volcanic cavern of his throat. With a roar he loosed a gale that knocked over the central tower that housed the fortress¡¯ headquarters. He raised his arms, and the sky answered him. A magnificent bolt of lightning shot from the sky, brightening the valley as though the sun had come. Striking the shield, the lightning kept going, falling into Murena¡¯s eel hands as though thrown to him. Light radiated outward from Murena, up and around him. In the blink of an eye the shield vanished. The ground shook, quaking with such force the remaining structures in the fortress collapsed: the giants had fallen. Arrianus laughed, clutching his stomach and shaking his head. Catching Bessa¡¯s eye, he said, ¡°You were right not to bet against the Old Man.¡± ¡°What just happened?¡± Edana demanded. ¡°Murena destroyed the shield, he¡¯s not contained¡ª¡± Arrianus held up a hand, quelling her as he resumed glaring into the scrying fountain. ¡°One component of the shield is sea water.¡± Edana gasped. ¡°Brilliant! Thunderbolts spread their power when they hit the ocean. Anyone standing on the shore might be killed by a thunder-strike on the sea.¡± ¡°Yes. How did you know?¡± ¡°My mother was a pearl diver when she was growing up. She warned us never to be in the water if it even looked like it might rain. If we heard thunder we weren¡¯t to go to the coast at all.¡± The old sorcerer¡¯s voice trembled with laughter. ¡°And now you see the Old Man¡¯s plan. Get the giants as close together as possible, and let them use their lightning weapons. Kill them dead with their own toys. But Murena did it for us! Oh, the gods must be with us today.¡± Were they? Though Murena just destroyed his own allies, he himself remained unscathed. Raising himself erect, he spread his wings. Nothing stood between him and them. Nothing at all.
¡°Clip his wings,¡± Lysander commanded. Part of him exulted¡ªso far, not one soul in his care had been lost. But on the other hand, Abris had stood for a thousand years. Stone, by stone, brick by brick, the legendary builders of days gone past built the fortress to last. Only an hour. Within an hour of the giants¡¯ onslaught, Abris had fallen. Expecting it would happen, after the giants brought down Red Pointe with a mere sound, was one thing. Seeing it was another. A feral smile came to him then. The shield Murena just destroyed included Salamandran acid in its constituent parts. With no giants to contend with, his men could concentrate all their efforts on the arsh¡¯at?m looming before them. Before it flew away to Valentis. Lysander could not let that happen. Several heartbeats passed between his order and the sub pegasus prime¡¯s response. Without warning, the ground shook and shifted. Cracks opened in the valley floor. Boulders tumbled from the mountains. Beside him, Lysander¡¯s gryphon ruffled its feathers and pawed at the ground. The pegasi whinnied. Below Murena, the courtyards¡¯ paving stones reshaped themselves into gigantic lances. Sharp as adamantine, the lances severed the vipers that formed Murena¡¯s calves. The Erebossan screamed. A yawning abyss opened beneath him. Furiously, he flapped his wings. Gales of wind uprooted trees, and pelted stones in every direction. Amongst the infantry, ballistas had been loaded with acid arrows, and lit with Salamandran flames on the tips. Only the sub prime¡¯s quick reflexes kept the flames from blowing back on them. He put up a shield in the nick of time. Pyralis ordered the repositioning of the ballistas, this time to take advantage of the wind¡¯s direction. The ordnance struck Murena¡¯s wings, setting them ablaze. ¡°Yesss,¡± Pyralis hissed. Writhing and roaring, Murena struggled to stay afloat. ¡°Move your men out, Pyralis,¡± Lysander conveyed through his battle scryer. Undoubtedly Murena would retaliate against the siege units first thing, and who knew what horrible power he might unleash to do so? Time, then, to draw Murena¡¯s attention. Flying low to the ground, Lysander and his wingmen maintained a perimeter of three miles around Murena. Lysander¡¯s scryer stuck close to him. ¡°Murena needs a bath,¡± Lysander said. ¡°I need direct channels to him.¡± His scryer relayed the order. Lysander watched as trenches formed in the perimeter chasm the giants had made. Like spokes in an axis, the trenches led straight to Murena¡¯s chasm. Now for the bath. Skirmishers took to their gryphons. Flying low to the ground, they spread their arms and formed an arc of light. For this phase, the aethers took the lead. Each bore either a Marinite priest or a venatori behind themselves on their dragons. Sylphs rode alongside their venatori companions. When the aethers gave the signal, the sylphs raced ahead, charcoal clouds puffing out behind them. A nimbus coalesced over the ruins of the fortress, forming a perfect circle, the clouds silvering for brief moments as lightning flashed. After a moment, water burst from the sky, filling the trenches. Lysander held back a smile. When Murena destroyed the shield, the sea water composing it evaporated ¡­ leaving behind salt. Loads of glittering, glorious salt which filled the perimeter chasm where the shields had been. Speaking their holy language the Marinites activated the Sea Lord¡¯s power, igniting the sea salt. An avalanche of water from the trenches rushed into the chasm surrounding Murena. Murena growled. Three great bolts of lightning raced down from the sky, shattering the mountain tops. Fire blazed in the valley floor. Lysander¡¯s eyes narrowed. If he were Murena, he would retreat to Erebossa, to the bowels of the Abyssal Serpent. The annihilation of his body was imminent, which could only curtail his power in this moment. But a retreat would give him the opportunity to return and usurp someone else. After turning the valley into a desolation, which he might still do. Losing Abris was one thing, but losing the Chrysanthemum Road? Even the greatest of reapers couldn¡¯t restore the land overnight. Lysander snapped orders for the venatori to put up another shield. The reserve units stepped to the fore here. By strict orders, none of the sorcerers were to exhaust themselves. Not now, when no spirits could aid them. By Khratu this must work! The metal next to his heart warmed¡ªthe moonbow amulet Bessa had given him long ago for a betrothal gift. Now he wore it with his conscience eased, determined to tip the scales in favor of victory. Once again, a shield encased Murena. Enraged, he hurled rubble and earth at it. To no avail: a vortex swirled below him. Every time they blinked he sank deeper and deeper into the whirlpool, until he was no more. ¡°Thank you, Khratu!¡± Lysander exhaled. Did they just win? He started forward, closer to Murena¡¯s former prison, when something caught his attention. The aerie was burning. ¡°What¡¯s going on there?¡± Lysander demanded. He glanced at his scryer. ¡°Get me Arrianus. Immediately!¡± Demetrios barked into his globe. He shouted twice more, then looked up, his face ashen. No answer.
Flames as high as the ceiling gated the arcades. Cutting off both escape, and rescue. ¡°No one move!¡± A man in a blood-soaked tunic stood before them. On account of his blue chalcedony amulet they might have taken him for a scryer, but for the red fireball floating above his palm. He was not a Salamandran. ¡°Marcus?¡± Arrianus asked, his face eloquently expressing their shock and horror. ¡°Don¡¯t move. I will render you all to fat and ash, and none of you can stop me.¡± His shirt was soaked with blood, and he pulled a dagger from his chest. He pointed it at them. ¡°Archelaos,¡± Lady Nensela said, that the others would know the Erebossan had usurped a second body. A coldness washed over her. Paradoxically, her blood surged in her veins. Her perceptions accelerated, as they always did when a vision was coming to pass. As always, she forced herself to bring the full weight of her attention on the now. For now she had to let everything unfold in its time, in its place, in its order. In this moment she would not dare to get ahead of events now. Instinctively, she put one foot forward. The path is before me. By the Seeker I will walk it still. I will not flinch or flee. I will remain, I will¡ª ¡®Marcus¡¯ bowed low, sweeping his arms wide. He stood up straight and smiled. ¡°I congratulate you, Highness. Staying a step ahead of you has been a challenge, a most pleasurable one. Do you know we stopped trying to plan around you? I stopped. Murena kept thinking we could capture you, but you¡¯re like us: So long-lived through intrigues and battles and enemies to be nothing less than dangerous. You have my gratitude of making the game so exciting.¡± ¡°Let these people go,¡± Lady Nensela said. Her voice sounded far away even to herself. They were closer to It. The moment she foresaw. Inhale, exhale in her own rhythm, a breathing exercise as familiar as an old friend. In her mind¡¯s eye she saw the frothy, roiling spring in the garden of the Seeker¡¯s temple. As she inhaled the waters calmed, and when she exhaled all ripples faded away. She smiled coldly. Marcus-Archelaos smiled in return, sharklike. ¡°Do you know how long I waited up here, waiting, waiting, waiting for you to come to me? I did everything I could to lure you here. At first I was going to infiltrate the fortress and take the commander, or one of his trusted seconds. But I knew you would anticipate that move. I smell the salt you carry. Toss it there.¡± He indicated the fires. Lady Nensela tossed it, casually. In her youth she would have thrown caution to the wind along with the salt, and laughed in the abyssal¡¯s face. Experience checked her. That¡ªand from the corner of her eye she saw Edana maneuver Bessa behind her. Child of my heart. You have saved me more than you know. And because you saved me I can save you. The Marcus-thing focused only on Nensela. He must have read something in her face, for he drew back slightly, then rallied. ¡°Decide.¡± I must take my time. And I must be quick. Lady Nensela¡¯s voice was steady as she answered him. ¡°Decide?¡± Marcus held out his free hand. ¡°Come with me.¡± He held out his fireball-hand. ¡°Or I turn your friends to ash.¡± A flick of his fingers, and a nearby sorcerer became a human torch. Moving fast than the blink of an eye, Arrianus levitated the sorcerer into the bronze fountain, barely quenching the man¡¯s cries of pain. ¡°Enough,¡± Lady Nensela snapped. Inwardly she sighed, relieved to come to It at last. She chanced a backward glance at Edana. ¡°I told a man to choose sacrifice over fear. I have accepted the same for myself.¡± Marcus showed all of his teeth. Smile now. You never shall again. Lady Nensela¡¯s reflexes were as lightning. Prepared for this moment, she kept a quiver at her hip. Before anyone could stop her she whipped out an arrow, and plunged it in her heart. Edana screamed. Again Arrianus acted. With a flick of his wrist he flung the startled Marcus-thing into the flames and beyond. Exultant, Lady Nensela¡¯s laugh came in fits and starts, even as she sank to her knees. To her eyes the room had become a whirlpool, swirling about her too powerfully for her to right her perceptions. Time was rushing forward now. As was her blood.
Bessa watched in horror as Lady Nensela collapsed. The seer opened her mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. Trembling, she managed to prop herself up on hand. Then her arm buckled, and she lay still upon the floor. Edana rushed over. With shaking hands and ferocious strength she lifted Nensela, holding her upright in her arms. Lady Nensela smiled. Blood trickled from her mouth. ¡°The abyssal was a poor strategist,¡± she rasped, putting every ounce of royal disdain in her voice as she could manage. ¡°What I said to you, of Amathus, do you remember? Influence requires understanding how others think. Eternal, is Archelaos? Bah. Yet without wisdom or insight.¡± Her face was still, her terror evident in her eyes. ¡°What have you done?¡± Edana cried. She gripped the arrow shaft, then stopped. Ta-Setian arrows were always barbed. She frantically looked around the room. ¡°Where¡¯s a healer? Hurry!¡± Bessa froze in place, tears streaming down her cheeks. ¡°This can¡¯t be happening,¡± she whispered. ¡°Amyntas¡­¡± A Restorite sorcerer was already reciting a spell, his words tumbling from his lips. An indigo light enveloped the seer, covering her from head to toe. ¡°Find her,¡± Lady Nensela struggled to say. ¡°Lord Senet knows¡­Selana¡­Selana will save you all.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t leave,¡± Edana managed. Lady Nensela¡¯s lashes fluttered. ¡°Have faith¡­¡± She went limp just as the Restorite knelt beside Edana. ¡°Leave her; let the spell do its job,¡± he barked. As if in a trance Edana lowered Lady Nensela gently to the floor, but she held her tight, cradling her face. Someone grabbed Edana from behind, prompting her to lash out in a blind rage. Yet the other persisted, binding her arms at her sides in a powerful embrace. Water droplets fell onto her neck. Bessa¡¯s tears. ¡°Let her go, Edana. Y-you have to let them help her.¡± Defeated, Edana sagged into Bessa¡¯s arms, clasping her as if she were driftwood in the sea. Arrianus was shouting something, but Edana could not focus, could not concentrate. She watched the physician, who had out his bag with his surgical knives. Blood pooled over Lady Nensela¡¯s heart, staining her violet gown. Edana¡¯s breath caught. That gown was so quintessentially Lady Nensela, a statement of her defiance and independence and courage. Hold out for the winter solstice, when all the dead must remain so. The solstice was barely two weeks away. Despair would not be held at bay; Edana¡¯s chest tightened as one certainty took root in her mind: no healer would be strong enough now to overcome the poison working its way in Lady Nensela¡¯s heart, pumping into her veins and speeding through her body. And the Interceptor had cut off the healers from the celestials. A maelstrom whirled in Edana¡¯s mind. She cried out to the Sower. ¡°Save her!¡± Chapter 39: Aftermath XXXIX Aftermath In which gains are tallied and losses are mourned The Gates remained. Ziri sent Halie to the Karnassus Gate, where she prevailed against the horde there. People spoke for days after of the mysterious sea dragon that emerged suddenly from the Gate. The draconic savior aided the army, flying to and fro wherever the giants clustered in the city, using her breath to freeze solid every giant in her path. Between the Hunters, the catapults and the dragon¡¯s tail swipes, the giants shattered on impact. The Salamandra, army and civilian alike, saw to it the giants stayed down for good. Red Pointe did not fall this time; thanks to the innovations the Roswalds put in place. Nevertheless, victory was not unalloyed. In his final moments Ritter Roswald smiled to think he had taught the giants to fear his name. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Two Rivers remained. Most survived, but Feargus Pendry was counted among the casualties, suffering burns from the lightning bolt that grazed him. All along the coastlands, witnesses reported men walking out of the sea and engaging the giants in battle. Senovara believed the men to be sea dragons in human form, and credited them with helping her and Makris turn back the tide against the giants. Abyssals and giants converged on the Rhabdomachaeum; the abyssals having infiltrated it from within. Before they were pushed back, a third of the students and teachers were dead. Pippa fought her way to Lenora, and both girls enjoyed the fruits of friendship: the amulet Pippa made for her ensured Lenora¡¯s survival when she was struck with lightning. The catoblepas aegis Min¡¯da Nuriel once made for Nikandros Philomelos came through for them; allowing Pippa to slow the giants long enough for her and the other students to take Lenora to safety. Cities along the coasts barely held on, but the fleets defending them were annihilated. The eldritch lights retreated before the sun. Emperor Tarkhana surveyed his lands through the great pool in his oraculum. The reports washed over him, as he took stock of the dead in his household and his city and his empire. But he searched only for one fate, one name. Nensela. Prologue: In the Tent of Last Hopes Prologue In the Tent of Last Hopes In which the alliance is reunited ¡°Lord Senet has arrived,¡± the seneschal announced. He stood poised at the edge of the large tent, which Lysander had reserved strictly for the vigil. ¡°Thank you, Franciscus,¡± Lysander said quietly. He glanced back, but neither Bessa nor Edana stirred from their place by Lady Nensela¡¯s bedside. Only the emperor turned to face him. The women never left her. Day and night they stayed with Lady Nensela, sleeping in shifts on occasion. They spoke only to offer prayers to the Restorer or the Speaker, respectively. Lysander¡¯s healers despaired of helping the prophet. Prayers from her friends, offerings of the priests, and finally, her own strength¡ªthese she must rely on. From Lysander¡¯s end he could do nothing more; his post-battle tasks were grueling and never-ending. Before the emperor had arrived, armor and weapons littered the Valley of Abris, conclusive proof of the now-disintegrated giants. Soldiers gathered up every scrap they could find, while the engineers tirelessly worked on retrieving the platform thunder maces from the chasms the venatori created to swallow them during the battle. In the meantime, the townspeople returned. Certain that the Fortress of Abris would be destroyed, Lysander had the townspeople evacuated to the mountain caves before the battle. Amazement that their homes remained intact gave way to chagrin at having to quarter the displaced army, the surplus unable to stay in the tents set up along the remains of the battlefield. The civilians were further surprised by the lack of casualties from the army¡¯s side; especially when they saw the destruction of the fortress. This seemed proof enough the army had faced a dangerous and unusual enemy, and meant there was little grumbling form the civilian side. To further ensure the goodwill of the townspeople, Sejanus, Lysander¡¯s prime centurion, assigned some units to assist the Watch in Abris. He¡¯d made it clear that any complaints the city¡¯s magister or council brought to him would be answered, and swiftly. His secondary purpose was to minimize access to the battlefield, to keep away looters, spies, and other pests. Necessarily, then, Sejanus assigned several units to close off the Chrysanthemum Highway at the border of Anshan. No one could come in to Rasena Valentis or go out until the road was cleared and reinforced. Authorities from Anshan¡¯s side cried foul, but Lysander would not attend to them. Any of their scryers or scouts could help them confirm what his border guards were telling them. Instead, he focused on trying to contact relevant authorities elsewhere in Rasena Valentis. Finally, three days after what was now called The Night of the Burning Sky, Lysander¡¯s scryer came running. The emperor was on his way. Hours later a storm of fire dragons heralded his arrival, flying in an arrowhead formation. This was wise, since fire dragons were often solitary and never flew thus, nor in such numbers. Awed, the townspeople sent up a collective cheer. The dragons descended, forming an infantry square in the midst of Lysander¡¯s camp. The outer ring of dragons bore the Drakon Guard¡ªhuman men¡ªwho dismounted first. In the square¡¯s hollow center the emperor dismounted from his dragon. Fittingly for a sovereign on war footing, Tarkhana wore his dragon armor. The hepatizon breastplate carried a deep purple-black patina, and was emblazoned with gold seal of a rampant dragon. Lysander arranged for an honor guard to meet him, but the emperor was not intent on ceremony. The imperial sovereign gave curt nods to the archons of Abris, who seized on his arrival as assurance the town¡¯s needs would be met. Blessedly, the emperor¡¯s mere presence held complaints at bay. ¡°Where is she?¡± This he asked the very moment the honors were done with. ¡°I will escort you to her, Great One,¡± Lysander said, lifting his head. ¡°You have done well,¡± the emperor said tersely as they walked. ¡°But if the prophet Nensela does not live I am not confident of our own survival.¡± ¡°Great One, I have given that some thought,¡± Lysander said carefully. Glittering lion-like eyes bored into him. Lysander hesitated. Well-schooled in history, he knew Lady Nensela¡¯s role in bringing Tarkhana to the throne. Over sixty years of friendship meant Tarkhana should know her well enough to judge the merit of Lysander¡¯s hypothesis. If Tarkhana gave heed to it, then hope may not be in vain. ¡°With respect to the longevity of your friendship, Great One¡ªwhat I have read of her history suggests Lady Nensela is similar to other Ta-Setian prophets, in that she does nothing by chance. Every move is part of a larger strategy, on a timescale we mortals can¡¯t fathom. Is it plausible Lady Nensela did not anticipate her confrontation with Archelaos, and account for it in her plans?¡± After a beat Lysander added, ¡°I am aware this could be wishful thinking, of course.¡± The emperor¡¯s lips quirked. ¡°No, your supposition is reasonable. But I am given to understand that Nensela was cornered into her choice.¡± ¡°Both her friends and my pegasus prime reported that right before she stabbed herself, Lady Nensela spoke of advising a man to choose sacrifice over fear¡ª¡± The emperor visibly stiffened, as though Lysander had struck him. Quickly enough he composed himself, and gestured for Lysander to continue. ¡°Great One, I took her words to mean she was prepared to kill herself if the alternative was possession. She must have accounted for that possibility. Again, I counsel against despair. I have faith that this prophet would not have made such a move without something to gain from it.¡± This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Even if all that is gained is denying the demons a powerful weapon?¡± ¡°That is still something. We have sent for Lord Senet, but I hold to the idea that Lady Nensela would not mean for us to give up hope.¡± Would anyone give up immortality as lightly as Nensela had seemed to? He would lay down his life for his men and a cause he believed in, but he was mortal. Death was inevitable; what mattered was when, why, and how it came. Lady Nensela was another matter. They reached what the officers were dubbing, ¡®the tent of last hopes.¡¯ Being more prim, the priests called it ¡®the sanctuary.¡¯ Originally it was Lysander¡¯s campaign tent, and it was where he would sleep. The goatskin shelter afforded him room enough to hold conferences with his officers. But post-battle, sleep was a fanciful notion, and Lysander didn¡¯t need to be a prophet to foresee that Nensela would get important visitors. Inside the tent, the balsam scent of styrax incense greeted them. Everyday Bessa and Edana kept sacred resins burning in the bronze brazier in the center of the tent. Scents that soothed, and in this case, brought to mind thoughts of forests in the spring time. Neither Bessa nor Edana reacted to the emperor¡¯s presence; they were attending to Lady Nensela. From head to foot she was enveloped in a halo of indigo, the tell-tale sign of a stasis sphere. The last resort of healers who did not yet know how to bring a patient back from the edge of Erebossa. One could minister to a patient inside the sphere, but the patient remained in suspended animation. The women had been careful of the ancient seer¡¯s dignity; days ago they had removed her bloodstained gown and had her bathed in scented waters. Now she was clothed in a simple and elegant white gown embroidered in gold. The emperor hung back, not drawing attention to himself as he looked over Lady Nensela with a critical eye. From the way he stared at her, Lysander supposed the man was willing the prophet to awaken and rise. Still, Bessa must have felt their eyes on her, for she glanced back and noticed Lysander. ¡°Oh!¡± Then she took in the emperor. ¡°Ohh.¡± The emperor quickly made a small gesture, to indicate she need not stand on ceremony. ¡°I am here as her friend, not your emperor. How does she fare?¡± Blinking in obvious confusion at the sight of the two men, Edana made no answer. Did she realize how many days had passed? After a moment Bessa said, ¡°She hasn¡¯t opened her eyes. Or said anything in¡ªin¡ªI¡¯m not sure how long.¡± ¡°Were her words intelligible? Did she ask for her family or anyone?¡± ¡°She spoke in a language I¡¯ve never heard before, so I don¡¯t know. Perhaps it was her own language?¡± Bessa suggested. Tarkhana nodded. ¡°Such would be expected, at a time like this. Will you allow me to sit here with her? You don¡¯t have to leave.¡± He was looking at Edana, who had recovered her composure somewhat. Edana nodded her assent, and Tarkhana went over to Nensela. The seer¡¯s features were pinched, as though she were in pain even in her deep sleep. Every so often, one of her friends would hold a mirror to her nose to confirm for themselves that she still lived. ¡°I have brought my best healers,¡± Tarkhana said. ¡°If anyone can help her, they can.¡± Lysander left them to it. With respect to their next move, he was back to treading water again. Until he received two messages. The first was from Lord Senet, one of the other four seers who shared Lady Nensela¡¯s prophecy. The second came from a man who identified himself as Ziri, commander of the Star Dragons of Kyanopolis. Both the emperor and the women immediately became energized when he conveyed the news; apparently they knew this Ziri also. Now, seven days after the battle, the arcanus and the prophet were finally here. They arrived together, the prophet on a fire dragon and the arcanus on a strange dragon. The second dragon appeared to be a hybrid of a fire dragon and sea dragon, having red coloring and wings like the former, and the spikes of the latter. Lysander again greeted them with honors. The arcanus, Ziri, appeared to be an Adamantean, a nomadic people absorbed into the empire centuries ago. His dark auburn hair was swept back and bound at his neck with a blue cord. Befitting an arcanus, his blue tunic was dark enough to let him blend into the night. The prophet, like Lady Nensela, was a Ta-Setian. He was bundled in a cape trimmed with the pale, creamy fur of the fennec, a kind of fox native to the deserts of both the Adamanteans and the Ta-Setians. However, Lysander understood the prophet had arrived from Helisius, a northern country where such a cloak would be needed at this time of the year. Though snow frothed around his boots, the prophet shrugged off the cloak, as though the cold were nothing to him. He seemed impervious to the snow now falling in his tightly braided hair. Not even a speck of grey salted the black plaits, nothing in his appearance betrayed his extreme age. His dark eyes roamed the endless array of tents, searching. Lysander started to lead them away when he was stopped in his tracks by a flash of gold light. When his vision cleared, the dragon had disappeared. In its former place stood a stately woman. Blue-black hair swirled about her in the wind, like a battle standard. Eyes of molten gold glinted, piercing him to his core. Those eyes, and the coppery cast of her skin, made him think of the dragon. A memory stirred in him, of the briefing Bessa, Edana, and Lady Nensela gave him not even a week ago. Could this be ¡­? ¡°Her Holiness, Halie, the Sea Lord¡¯s daughter¡ª¡± Ziri supplied, cutting himself off as Lysander dropped to one knee before her. Lysander kept his eyes down, his heart pounding. For the first time it occurred to him to fear the significance of a god sending His child to aid mortals in a war: the odds must be overwhelmingly against the mortals. ¡°Your Holiness,¡± he managed. Halie commanded him to rise, and Ziri continued, ¡°Where are the others? We must talk.¡± In the doorway of the sanctuary Lord Senet paused. With her hands folded and her eyes closed, Lady Nensela exuded such a stillness that Lysander grimly observed the platform on which her mattress rested could easily double as a catafalque. The crimson fabric draping the platform was the same sort used when a high priest or political luminary was lying in state. Lord Senet¡¯s nostrils flared, and Lysander recognized in him a man struggling not to lose all hope. Upon seeing Lord Senet the emperor rose from the bench he was sharing with Bessa and Edana. Tarkhana tented his fingers together then touched them to his lips in a kiss. He retained the tent formation but pointed the tips outward to Lord Senet, extending the kiss in a homage. Such was the honor due a Seeker¡¯s Own, considered by all Rasena Valentians as a living voice of the Seeker. The homage seemed to break Lord Senet of his paralysis. He bowed his head, courteously acknowledging the foreign sovereign. ¡°She has not spoken, nor returned to consciousness,¡± Tarkhana said gently. Lord Senet strode over to Lady Nensela. Gently, he placed a hand over hers, and squeezed. He whispered something, in the language of Ta-Seti. Lysander caught one phrase. Awaken, and be with us again. Guide us, or I will be lost. Under his breath Lysander added, We will all be lost without you. Awaken, Lady Nensela. Part I: The Flayers | Chapter 1: In the Lighthouse Part I The Flayers Ebon Cove, Lyrcania ¡ª One month before the Night of the Burning Sky Chapter I In the Lighthouse In which a detective encounters a terrifying foe The screaming had stopped by the time they reached the dock. Watch-Huntress Alia Ironwing approached the corpse cautiously, letting her Ellura Aura Detector No. 8 lead the way. Straight to the mess. Steeling herself, Alia stared down at what little remained of what was once a man. Her apprentice, Sheridan, followed close behind her, lighting the way with his Ellura wand. Watch-Huntress Serafina brought up the rear, walking backwards to thwart ambush. As a Salamandra her sight was not diminished at night, so she appointed herself their sentinel. Serafina stopped a few feet away from them and lolled her neck, audibly cracking the kinks out. The delicate chain of amulets threaded through her hair clinked a little as she moved. She shuddered, staring back down at what little remained of the man. ¡°If we had run a little faster,¡± she said, sounding bemused. ¡°Not possible. Besides, we would have met the flayer,¡± Sheridan pointed out, turning this way and that. The light of his Ellura wand joined the light of the full moon, and the glowlights of the lighthouse. The lighthouse stood at the crest of the grassy bluff before them. Rocky, narrow stairs carved into the bluff led down to the beach where the unfortunate man had met his doom. Serafina shrugged. Reluctant and weary at once, Alia knelt no closer to the body than necessary as she ran the detector over the still-steaming mess. Ever thoughtful, Serafina held out her hand above Alia¡¯s head, and within a heartbeat flames lit from her fingertips to the midpoint of her forearm. The silver embroidery in her silk, sleeveless pelisse softly flared up in response to her flame, turning Serafina into a walking lamp. Now they could all see better. Unfortunately. Recoiling in disgust and horror, Alia fastened her eyes on her Ellura, to avoid seeing the corpse. After a short while, the soft beeps and subtle flashing green lights gave her confirmation of the dead man¡¯s identity. ¡°This one was Gavin. The customs officer,¡± she said for the benefit of her companions. ¡°Interesting how the flayers know to come after the Brotherhood and no one else,¡± Serafina observed. ¡°So I noticed,¡± Alia agreed. In her mind¡¯s eye, that thread only led to one place¡­ ¡°This is the first body, though,¡± Sheridan pointed out. ¡°The other three vanished without a trace. Why is there a body this time?¡± Since midsummer, members of the Brotherhood began to turn up missing. Three men entered public places around town, and were never seen again. No sign of violence marked their passing. Strangest of all was the absence of blood, which seemed so unlikely in a flayer encounter, especially if the flayer took the sorcerers by surprise. More¡ªwithout a chance for them to fight or flee, a disquieting detail. And now? Skin, bones and teeth¡ªall that remained of what was once Gavin. The classic signs of a flayer kill. Until now, their only evidence of flayers were the readings from the aura detectors, and it took Serafina to interpret the results. Which was unconvincing to skeptics, because what did she have to compare the readings to? Mechanical aura detectors didn¡¯t exist when the flayers last appeared in the realm, forty years ago. So rarely did flayers appear¡ªand never under such quiet conditions¡ªthat no one imagined the creatures were involved until Serafina¡¯s assessment. Surviving a flayer encounter was rarer still, and for this reason human sorcerers never managed to build up a body of lore regarding them. However, the Salamandra possessed an extensive store of knowledge on flayers. In fact, only Salamandra ever tangled with them unscathed, which made Alia particularly grateful Serafina chose to team up with them. She gave them the edge they needed, against the brotherhood and the flayers both. Now, with this evidence before her, Alia contemplated strategies for controlling events once the Brotherhood knew flayers were after them. The syndicate was her rightful prey, and for once she had a golden opportunity to get the better of them. But for the moment, the immediate problem took priority. Another flash and series of beeps from the Ellura, and Alia¡¯s blood began to race. ¡°Looks like Gavin wasn¡¯t alone. Junius was with him.¡± Somehow she kept her excitement out of her voice. She glanced up at the others, but Sheridan quickly fixed his gaze elsewhere. Right. Likely her apprentice didn¡¯t believe he had leave to speak freely on the matter, given he¡¯d only known her four months. Both of them were still feeling their way. The most Sheridan knew of her was that she¡¯d dedicated her adulthood to destroying Junius Fellrath, leader of the Brotherhood, and his business of capturing dryads. And that her interest was decidedly personal. ¡°Where is he then? Where are his footprints?¡± Ever meticulous, Sheridan swept the ground with his light. A pair of footprints definitely indicated two people, Gavin and Fellrath, had disembarked from the dinghy and walked up the beach. But Fellrath¡¯s ended abruptly in the sand. Alia gasped at the implication. ¡°Maybe two flayers came here. One killed Gavin, and the other must have taken Fellrath, like the others sorcerers were taken.¡± Sheridan turned sharply to Serafina, and Alia suspected why: the flame-slinger was their insurance against one flayer. No one anticipated two. Alia set her jaw. Under no circumstances would she squander this opportunity. Flayer or no flayer, they needed to strike now, while the Brotherhood was still unaware its head was missing. Soon enough one of the members would seize control when word got out of Junius Fellrath¡¯s demise. Moreover, the flayers hadn¡¯t eliminated the inner circle, which meant the power grab would be short and brutal. Whoever landed on top would be sure to render any intelligence she gathered here unusable. If she couldn¡¯t get two steps ahead. She rose. The lighthouse loomed above her. By day its white limestone surface would shine unbearably bright in the sunlight. By night the glowlights gave it a silvery cast. The lighthouse rose from the center of a two-story plaza, with its shaft in three segments. A long rectangle formed the longest and tallest stage of the tower. Atop the rectangle, crenellated walls surrounded an observation plaza. She imagined sorcerers and soldiers alike raining down missiles from that deck. Rising from the center of the first stage observation deck was an octagon tower, which she knew housed the keepers¡ªand Gavin, whose official occupation was customs officer. A role that gave him the cover to access ships and move the dryads without arousing suspicion. The octagon was not the pinnacle of the lighthouse. In the center of the octagon¡¯s top deck, a staircase twined about a narrow cylinder, all the way up to the beacon. An excellent place to observe, without being observed in turn. Alia shivered at the thought. The element of surprise might not be with her, after all. Nevertheless, certain questions needed answering: was the lighthouse also a prison for the dryads? The coastal location would allow for quick transport by ship. ¡°Are the flayers still around here?¡± Sheridan asked. ¡°The Ellura¡¯s range isn¡¯t that extensive,¡± Alia noted. ¡°If the flayer is in the lighthouse, we won¡¯t know until we get near the entrance. Sorry.¡± Serafina said, ¡°I don¡¯t see anything, either. The gates to the lighthouse complex is closed, and the flayer¡¯s tracks don¡¯t go up that far. It dropped in, from out of nowhere.¡± Alia squinted, trying to make out any tracks herself, and gave up. ¡°Don¡¯t they have to come out of nowhere? They aren¡¯t from our realm, and I¡¯ve always assumed they use some sort of portal to get here from whatever plane or world they live in.¡± A detail which troubled her. No portal to their world should function. Not without permission from the Gate Wardens¡ªthe dryads. Dryads were far too conscientious to let manslayers or any other foreign beings enter their world. Somehow, the flayers managed to slip past their guard, but Alia did not understand how they were doing it. ¡°Not a portal,¡± Serafina countered. ¡°Not in the same sense we would mean it. Portals have fixed locations. Flayers appear where they wish, at will. At least, that¡¯s how it looks to us. To answer your question, though, yes, they do seem to come from out of nowhere.¡± Alia swallowed, unnerved by the possibility of flayers arriving out of thin air, with no warning or obvious reason. Only one comfort availed itself to her: the flayers might be deliberately targeting the Brotherhood, not taking them by happenstance. If so, she and her companions were in no danger ¡­ unless they were to stumble across a flayer already present. The Ellura should eliminate that possibility. There was one thing she must do first, though. ¡°Switch places, you two. Serafina, look out for flayers. And you, Sheridan, hold your light over Gavin.¡± Smothering a grimace, Sheridan did as she asked. While he dutifully held the light he kept his eyes on the forest in the distance, likely to check for flayers. Meanwhile, Alia searched what was left of Gavin¡¯s clothing. Tap pat. Tap pat. Sheridan¡¯s fingers drummed against the sidearm holstered at his hip. The weapon was similar to Alia¡¯s Dragon Pearl IV, in the Ember series by Hurik & Sung. How heady must it be to carry such power at his fingertips, when before he only wielded long knives? Before they set out at sundown, Serafina¡ªHurik¡¯s daughter¡ªloaned Sheridan the firearm. Unspoken between them was the thought that if Sheridan ever came close enough to a flayer to use a knife, then he was too close. Throughout the evening, Alia often saw Sheridan¡¯s hand stray to the sidearm, as if to reassure himself he had it. A twinge of sympathy for him spurred her to search faster; better for all of them to get this part over with quickly. At least Gavin¡¯s blood and gore wouldn¡¯t penetrate her leather gloves. At last her fingers grasped a keystone. Of course, for what self-respecting sorcerer would deign to use a metal key? Metal locks and keys were worthless if broken or stolen. Wards served sorcerers better, as did the special signet stones imbued with specific counter spells. Best of all, if a keystone were stolen, the sorcerer could re-set the ward to instantly kill anyone using that stone. In normal circumstances Alia would have expected Junius to have done just that for places Gavin would have exclusive access to in the lighthouse, including his own quarters or his office. But in this instance she doubted the flayer would have given him sufficient time. Armed with her prize, Alia led the way up the steps to the lighthouse. At the midpoint of the bluff the staircase was interrupted by a terraced walkway which led into the forest. Here they made an unsettling discovery: the footprints of a flayer, immediately below the curb of the walkway. Undeniably the huge, three-toed print belonged to something neither human nor salamandra. Claw marks gnashed at the soil, at intervals suggesting a long stride. Legends claimed the flayers to be tall, and at least one flayer lived up to the legend. However, the aura detector assured them no flayer currently graced them with its presence, and so they passed into the lighthouse without incident. Inside the first tower they beheld the grandeur of the lighthouse. A ramp, wide enough to support light wheeled traffic started not far from the doors, and disappeared from view behind the interior walls of the lighthouse shaft. Windows pierced the shaft, which would give them a glimpse of anyone on the ramp. That is, until the windows came to the coffered orichalcum ceiling which marked the end of the first floor of the tower. Glowlights blazed in iron sconces flanking the windows. The lights glowed yellow at the ground level, then green about two thirds up, then blue, with white lights reflecting red against the ceiling. At the ground level, mosaic tiles on the floor depicted scenes of water nymphs at play. Sheridan stared at the mosaic and stroked his goatee as he mused aloud, ¡°This looks like it came from Rasena Valentis. They love mosaics there.¡± Alia glanced at him, curious. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize you came from so far away.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t. But when I was a boy, two of my grandfather¡¯s neighbors were from there. Their house used all these pretty tiles to make pictures on the floors.¡± The lower walls of the tower featured alcoves containing marble statuary. Closer inspection revealed the statues were highly idealized versions of members of the Sun and Stars Society, who funded, built, and owned the lighthouse. Junius was a scion of one of the key members, a connection Alia had learned to rue. A connection which reminded her speed was of the essence. Serafina scoffed at one of the statues. The column of three tiny spikes down the center of her forehead remained golden, so Alia knew she was not angry, merely critiquing the quality of the art. Salamandra were famed for the coolness of their temper, and were slow to anger. A change of color in their spikes marked a sign of extreme emotion. Nevertheless, Serafina often experienced a startling exception in the reputation of her people. When Alia was first trying to learn more about human society, Serafina revealed a strange prejudice humans possessed: a belief that red hair marked a person as uniquely hot tempered. With her bright carnelian hair, Serafina was obliged to be twice as careful not to even hint she might be displeased about something. Because Alia was raised by dryads she lacked such preconceptions, which made Serafina feel more comfortable around her. ¡°You see it, too?¡± Alia gestured at the statues and sucked her teeth. ¡°Whoever did these has heard of the Cassander marbles, but hasn¡¯t got his skills. Shouldn¡¯t money buy quality, not mere frippery? Look how stiffly they¡¯re posed. Obviously these are simply customized versions of whatever that knock-off factory makes. Drop a custom head onto a template body, change the hairstyle, and there you have it.¡± Serafina chuckled. ¡°Oh, Alia. To think a dryad¡¯s foster daughter would turn out to be an art critic! But I agree with you. Brennus Fellrath is fooling himself if he thinks we believe he was ever that chiseled.¡± Alia prided herself on having an eye for quality. Keen eyesight was a boon to any huntress; why should she lose her edge just because she no longer stalked prey in the forest? Besides, the art of humans fascinated her, and gave her a much-needed window to their society. Above a massive set of wooden doors a sign proclaimed, to the cellar. Forever after; however, Alia would refer to the lower level as the dungeons. The dungeon was a dark labyrinth of narrow passageways. So few glow lights meant that one end of a corridor was always shrouded in shadows to whomever stood at the other end. Stone and darkness; darkness and stone, Alia noted. How would a dryad react to such an environment? This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Serafina raised her hand and led the way, the flames she generated lighting their path. Bringing up the rear, Sheridan held out his wand. Nothing would take them by surprise, not with his vigilance. Alia strained to hear anything other than their echoing footsteps and the clinking of the amulets in Serafina¡¯s hair. After a while she decided it was fortunate Serafina¡¯s amulets were all she heard. Silence meant they were alone, and safe. Probably. Many of the rooms served an innocent purpose, storing grain and supplies, but at last they came to a door of iron, the only such door they had yet seen in the labyrinth. Alia¡¯s heart began to pound. No dryad could be defeated by a wooden door, but iron ¡­ This door was warded, and Alia swore when her Ellura Ward Detector No. 8 revealed the nature of the barrier. ¡°A blood spell?¡± Sheridan asked. ¡°That¡¯s a little extreme, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°It can¡¯t be ¡®picked,¡¯ so it makes sense,¡± Serafina pointed out. The ward detector normally allowed Alia to identify a warding spell and ¡®pick it¡¯ by using a spell of negation. Standard enough for a standard ward. As far as she knew, blood spells could not be evaded. The blood of a specific person was required, no exceptions. So whose blood did she need? Gavin¡¯s? Fellrath¡¯s? Or the blood of something not sapient? Perhaps all three? Alia pounded on the door. ¡°Is anyone in there? Aunt Nalini?¡± Most dryads were abducted from groves in Xia and other nations in the Gold Sea. But Aunt Nalini hailed from the same grove as Alia¡¯s foster mother, which heightened her sense of urgency. Though Alia held her breath and smashed her ear against the door, only silence answered her. Which meant nothing, as the walls and the door seemed thick enough to bar even a scream from escaping. A thought which summoned horrible images in her mind, and she violently shook her head as if to rid herself of them. She turned to face her companions, and straightened. ¡°Fine,¡± she said. ¡°Let¡¯s call the others so we can secure this lighthouse. With Gavin¡¯s death we have our pretext, so from now on we have leave to search here at will. And Fellrath¡¯s home as well. If any one asks, we suspect a flayer is present; see who objects then. Furthermore, our people should detain and question anyone who comes here or to Fellrath¡¯s house.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll summon them,¡± Sheridan offered. Alia was already striding down the corridor, making way for the surface. ¡°Request the scryers and truth-seers, too,¡± she added. ¡°Don¡¯t forget to warn them about the second flayer.¡± Back on the main floor, Alia and Serafina began their ascent to the second stage of the lighthouse. On the way up, Alia pondered the blood spell. Usually the requisite blood would be acquired ahead of time, so Gavin probably stored the vials somewhere. More, her hunch that the blood spell required three donations was likely correct. Sorcerers often did blood spells in threes, using three different types of people. Not only that, but given the nature of the Brotherhood, she couldn¡¯t imagine Gavin being permitted sole access to the dryads. Likely Fellrath would insist that a component of the spell include his own blood, or the blood of something he had exclusive access to. In fact, she was sure the latter case was most likely, as Fellrath surely wouldn¡¯t want to require anyone to bleed him for any reason. Alia took note of the names on the plaques to each floor as she climbed the tower. Ostensibly other businesses rented out space in the lighthouse, but in truth Junius Fellrath infested the lighthouse with people either under his thumb, or strongly connected to him and his operation. With Junius likely dead, he might now serve as her fulcrum to move his allies right where she wanted them. As they walked they passed by Gavin¡¯s office. Which Alia duly ignored, given that only a metal lock secured it. A sure sign Gavin kept nothing incriminating there. No, he would keep anything truly damning as close to himself as possible, which meant his own quarters. At last they reached the first plaza deck. Cool air washed over them, and for the first time the scent of blood and viscera from Gavin¡¯s corpse left Alia¡¯s nose. The breeze lifted the flaps of the overcoat she wore, slapping it lightly about her legs. Stars twinkled vividly in the sky, bestowing their radiance upon the heavens. Memories came to Alia, of her mother¡¯s bower, and the countless nights she¡¯d spent gazing up at the stars as a child. Her mother taught her the names the dryads used for their favorite stars and constellations. In adulthood Alia learned humans did not use the same names, nor possess the same lore, which first emphasized to her how isolated she was from other humans. Commonalities she expected to find turned out to be gulfs of separation, and at times the gulf seemed unbridgeable. Even her friendship with Serafina grew out of her ignorance of human society and their mutual need to learn about it. Still, Alia managed to give herself as best an education as she could, once she set herself on the path to take down Junius Fellrath. Serafina called to her, bringing her mind back to the task at hand. By this time Sheridan had rejoined them, and they were contemplating the door to the second tower. Fortunately, the door used a conventional lock, which surprised them. A laugh escaped her lips, and Alia¡¯s shoulders shook at the release of tension. This she could deal with, easily. From her coat she drew forth her own firearm. So proudly she carried her weapon, a special edition of the Dragon Pearl IV forged especially for her by Serafina¡¯s father: dragon ivory stock, with a gold dragon for the barrel, and a muzzle slightly protruding from the dragon¡¯s teeth. As usual, her aim was precise. With a bang and a plume of smoke the locks fell away, destroyed. Inside the second stage tower, they found Gavin¡¯s apartment on the third floor. His keystone began glowing within three feet of the door, which swung open of its own accord when they were only inches away. Gavin¡¯s foyer was lavish, with a black sixteen-point compass star inlaid into the teak parquet on his floor. Life-sized paintings of Gavin in sumptuous clothing dominated every other wall¡ªfour altogether, on account of the room¡¯s octagon shape. Ornate, gleaming gold frames encased each painting. Again Serafina scoffed. ¡°Is he making up for not having a sculpture of himself in the lobby?¡± Sheridan laughed, but Alia, wide-eyed, was too entranced to react. Adjusting to human-style dwellings took her some time, but the few homes she usually visited were decorated on a more modest scale. For her own apartment, supreme self-control kept her from carpeting her floors in blossoms, or threading the canopy posts of her bed with flowering vines. Such a practice would only be a pale imitation of her mother''s bower, and Alia resolved to be true to where she dwelt now. However, she still remained uncertain of where to go from there. But Gavin? Yards of silk upholstered his divans and armchairs, and paneled his walls. Gilt embroidery trimmed his furniture. Priceless artifacts took up almost all the space on his end tables. Or rather, copies of priceless artifacts, which Alia recognized from museum paintings, thanks to her ceaseless self-education efforts. ¡°Is this wealth from his job?¡± she asked. ¡°Or from his life in the Brotherhood?¡± ¡°Option two,¡± Serafina replied. They spread out, examining every nook carefully. This time, Alia used her Ellura to find evidence of an active spell. The detector would at least give her an indication of concealment or illusion. The entryway was clean, as was the kitchen and dining room adjacent to it. Spiral copper, openwork stairs brought them up to the next floor, which housed Gavin¡¯s library and stillroom. The stillroom was where the trap awaited them. Apothecary chests and jars lined the room, except for the wall directly across from the door, which had a door of its own. Presses, pots, vials, and jars cluttered up a massive table in the center of the room, and what surfaces these did not cover were filled in with scroll cases, codices and notes. An open codex caught Alia¡¯s eye and gave her pause. Her eyes narrowed as she recognized the spell: Gavin was studying a dryad ward of protection. The ward looked similar to the one enchanted into the very fabric of Alia¡¯s coat, by Alia¡¯s mother. She shrugged off her top coat to hold it against the page for comparison. The deerskin leather coat, forest green, bore an engraving of almond blooms, with elderflowers about the hem and cuffs. When she ran her Ellura over it, the device revealed the subtle glyphs marking her mother¡¯s enchantment against fire. In silence Alia fought off the cold terror clawing its way through her belly. So what was Gavin planning? To make it possible to burn down a dryad grove? No, how could he? No human could check a dryad¡¯s power. Not on their own ¡­ But sorcerers did not act alone. Celestial spirits aided them, unless the sorcerer had fallen into perdition, lowering himself to dealing with fiends from Erebossa. The Erebossi made for demanding servants; none offered power without cost. To receive sufficient power to directly cross a dryad would put a sorcerer into a debt not readily paid in a mortal lifespan. And infernal aid truly was required in this matter; no celestial spirit would participate in harming the daughters of the Huntress. Salamandra fire could burn down a grove, but the Salamandra were subject to a treaty with the dryads. The Fire Lords and Ladies governing the various political factions of the Salamandra were obliged to swear a blood oath to uphold the treaty. Salamandra policed their own, and took the treaty seriously enough to make skirting close to breaking it a grave offense, with terror-inducing penalties. Aside from this, Alia never found any hint they were involved in Fellrath¡¯s Brotherhood. Nay, the Brotherhood of the Jackal was strictly the affair of human sorcerers. Which was disquieting in itself. Whence came their power to poison dryad groves? Infernal assistance was absolutely required, she was sure of it. Or thought she was sure. The dungeon gave her the glimmer of an idea, but she would have to talk to her mother to flesh out her thoughts. How the sorcerers effected to blight dryad groves wasn¡¯t the only mystery. Looming over her investigation was the question of the dryads¡¯ fate once captured. Step one, sorcerers blighted their groves. Somehow. Step two, abduct dryads. And step three? Where were they taken? For what purpose? ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Sheridan asked, bringing her out of her reverie. Arms folded, he stood before a pair of bronze doors at the end of the room. Alia raised her eyebrows. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s¡ª¡± Geometric patterns etched into the door suddenly began to glow a bright copper, but what stopped her short were the illuminated lines beneath Sheridan¡¯s feet. The lines formed a labyrinth pattern. A portal. Jolted by recognition, she started to cry out. ¡°Sheridan!¡± He followed her gaze, and his mouth fell open in dismay. Visibly he stiffened his spine, but his eyes belied his panic. ¡°I can¡¯t move,¡± he whispered. Alia rushed towards him, ignoring the voice in her mind telling her she was too late. With mighty creaks and groans the doors began to swing open, admitting a blaze of coppery light. The labyrinth pattern on which Sheridan stood sketched an imprisonment spell, one she knew he couldn¡¯t free himself from. Could she? With all her strength she yanked on his arm, desperate to pull him out of the circle. Where would the portal would send him? Into nothingness? A prison? Another realm? But true to spell lore, Alia¡¯s efforts availed her nothing, for Sheridan wouldn¡¯t budge. Worse, the doors were now completely open, forcing her to shut her eyes against the light. Two impulses warred within her. Either she abandon him to his fate¡ª She stepped into the circle with him, a split second before a roar deafened her and all went black.
The screaming sent Alia bolting upright, shocked into wakefulness. Momentarily disoriented, all she knew for certain was that her eyes beheld darkness, and her flesh ached against cold stones. And her ears rang with Sheridan¡¯s screams. By instinct she reached for her Dragon Pearl IV ... ... which was holstered in her coat. On the table in Gavin¡¯s still room. Chilled inside and out, Alia sat motionless for a moment. Flagstones lay beneath her. Ergo, the portal hadn¡¯t hurled her and Sheridan into oblivion. Excellent. Whatever happened next, they could handle it. One thing at a time. Easing herself to her feet, she waited for her eyes to adjust. Thin rays of moonlight filtered down from an unknown source above her, giving just enough light to see shadows. Gradually she made out one shadow a few feet to her right. She froze. By its contours she concluded the shadow belonged to Sheridan. Who was no longer screaming. Excellent? Except, what made him scream to begin with? The man wasn¡¯t prone to blind panic. Clickety click click. Every muscle in Alia¡¯s body locked. Something sharp-footed was racing toward them, too fast for them to evade it. Without warning a silvery light flared, blinding Alia. Too late she drew her arm over her eyes, only lowering it when her vision adjusted yet again. Sheridan¡¯s head was haloed by the light of his Ellura wand. With his profile presented to her, she didn¡¯t miss the clench of his jaw and the flare of his nostrils. Tense, but unharmed, she noted, before she followed his gaze. Before them stood an array of bars. Ah, so they were caged. No¡ªimprisoned. In a cell. Thus, they were in the power of an intelligent being she might reason with. But what was making that clicking sound? What approached them? This time, the scream came from her own throat. Alia hadn¡¯t realized she was backing away until she slammed against the stone walls, startling herself so that she screamed again. Approaching them was a thing. Slightly hunched, the creature was not quite as tall as the six-foot-two Serafina. Taller than Alia¡¯s five-seven, and sufficient to loom. Menacingly. Slender talons punctuated meaty hands. Raptor-like, the talons looked elegantly suited to tear apart the creature¡¯s prey. Lithe muscles rippled beneath slick grey skin. Muscles which pulsed furiously as the creature began to dash towards them. Long, opposing talons on its huge feet supplied the source of the unnerving clicking sound. A flayer. The creature now stood just beyond the bars. Without warning its arm lashed out. The surge of blood in her veins put Alia in a surreal stream of time, where events happened at lightning speed and glacial slowness all at once. She lunged for Sheridan, instinct taking over, her body acting of its own accord as she grasped the cold metal at Sheridan¡¯s hip¡ªjust as he arced away from her, his body airborne. The cage bars rattled as Sheridan thudded against it. The noise brought Alia back to herself, and she stood facing Sheridan, aiming his gun at his heart. Quick and ragged, Sheridan¡¯s breaths were all that marked his terror. He hung deathly still, immobilized by the flayer¡¯s grip on his neck from behind. His feet dangled an inch above the floor. Next to his head, the flayer pressed its face against the bars. It glared at Alia. Egg-sized eyes bulged from a long, narrow face. Elliptical pupils narrowed in the light of Sheridan¡¯s Ellura wand. The pupils slid back and forth. Was the creature sizing her up? Abbreviated nostrils flared; the flayer had snorted. In turn Sheridan flinched. Then the mouth opened in a perfect circle. Sucker mouth, Alia realized. Inside it sat crisscrossing scissors. No wonder the organs of flayer victims were always missing ¡­ How long she stood gaping in terror Alia didn¡¯t know. But at last she found her voice. ¡°I will kill you quickly,¡± she swore. ¡°I will not let you suffer.¡± Sheridan met her eyes. His lips parted. Whatever he might have said was lost in their mutual shock at what happened next. ¡°Unnecessary.¡± Sheer astonishment almost made her squeeze the trigger. Inwardly she rebuked herself, and steadied her nerves. Breathe. Just breathe. Nothing in the archives hinted the flayers could speak. All available lore suggested the flayers were mindless, malevolent megafauna. Not even Serafina ever hinted they were sapient. With steady hands, Alia kept her gun trained on the flayer. In the back of her mind she admitted the creature was unlikely to give her a clear shot. But she didn¡¯t trust it to stay put, either. Then again, it didn¡¯t appear intent on going anywhere. Instead it snaked its free hand over Sheridan¡¯s torso, resting its talons against his heart. The hand attached to those talons curved suggestively, poised to rip. Sheridan¡¯s gaze slid down to the talons. His expression turned blank. Alia calmed herself by focusing on the flayer¡¯s words: Unnecessary. Please, by the Huntress, may it mean the flayer did not intend to flay Sheridan! The man was all of twenty-four, and seemed too good a person for such a death. The flayer spoke again. In Pelasgian, Alia realized. How did it know Pelasgian? ¡°Know: We took your sorcerers. We called them to our realm and they came, and in turn we are here. In our world they will remain, and in your world we will remain, unless the famine ends.¡± So the portal not only didn¡¯t send them to oblivion, it hadn¡¯t taken them to another, horrible world either. Slowly Alia exhaled in relief, even as she considered the flayer¡¯s claims. Again the lorebooks failed her. Flayers could invite people to their realm? For what purpose? And what famine? Visions came to Alia of sorcerers making a pact with flayers, perhaps to give them a sacrifice every so often. Such foolishness was not beneath wicked men the likes of Junius Fellrath. ¡°What is this famine? Why and how did you call the sorcerers?¡± The creature raised its free hand and cuffed Sheridan¡¯s ear. Sheridan began to hyperventilate, stopping only when the creature dragged a talon across his throat. A red sliver followed in its wake. ¡°I will not suffer evasions. Nor will I suffer the thieves to live. Thieves from your world drain ours of life. The thieves will meet an end, or we will claim your world in place of our own. Decide.¡± Hmm. The flayers had a grievance? A legitimate one, by the sound of it. Thus, Alia weighed her words carefully before replying. ¡°Visitor to my world, know this: I serve the Huntress, as warden and protector of the people of this world. As servant of the Huntress, I suffer no incursions of blights upon the lands of this world. Nor blights upon other worlds. In the name of the Huntress, I will attend to these thieves you accuse. The man you hold is a huntsman, and I require him alive and well in order to help you¡ª¡± The low growl cut her off. Alia stiffened. The flayer¡¯s eyes narrowed to slits. In anger? Or approval? ¡°Words are nothing,¡± said the flayer. ¡°He stays. You go. Bring me the answer.¡± Despair and sorrow threatened to overwhelm her. To leave Sheridan in such circumstances was unconscionable! Forcing herself to meet his eyes, Alia whispered, ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± If only she had reached for Sheridan instead of his weapon. Then she would have leverage over the flayer, and they both might escape alive. With one shot available to her, she destroyed the lock on the prison cell. At the threshold she hesitated. ¡°Do you honor agreements and vows? I have vowed to help you, and I am bound by that vow. Do you vow to refrain from harming my friend? Will you bind yourself to that promise?¡± ¡°When you return he will be here.¡± ¡°Alive? Unharmed?¡± The flayer¡¯s lips receded, showing her its teeth. ¡°Alive. Unharmed.¡± Chapter 2: The Counselor Chapter II The Counselor In which a khrestai offers cold comfort Once outside the cell, Alia discovered the cell itself was inside a larger, subterranean room. Now free, she found the source of the light she¡¯d noticed earlier came from windows near the ceiling. Several feet away, an open door beckoned. Because of Sheridan¡¯s Ellura wand, Alia reached the door without stumbling over hazards. But beyond the door lay a hazard she could not avoid. A mess, in the form of a corpse in similar condition to Gavin¡¯s. The stench of blood and viscera announced the freshness of the kill. Undoubtedly this was the reason for Sheridan¡¯s screams earlier; he must have seen the flayer dining on it. She gingerly stepped over the remains, and made her way upstairs. Upstairs, stately furnishings suggested a nobleman¡¯s home. Marble busts in the parlor made her halt in shock: Fellraths. Ancestors of Junius Fellrath; he kept replicas in his office in the city. So Junius was the ruin she had stepped over. The person the flayer made a meal of ¡­ At the doorway she hesitated. Again her conscience prickled her at the thought of leaving Sheridan. But staying here was no use to him. For his sake, and her family¡¯s, she had work to do. Thrusting a hand in her pocket, she pulled out her hand-held astrolabe. This one was constructed with a lid, to protect the device. Beautifully wrought, the lid was a small circle of electrum with a peony engraved upon it. On the back, her name. This astrolabe was fancier than any other she had seen, because it could project star fields and planetary movements. The main point; however, was how well it kept time. So said her commander, Palamara, when he gave the device to her. Human lives are finite, he had explained. We have to mind the time. She opened the cover and aligned the sights with the moonlight. Four hours until dawn. Dawn would serve as her deadline. Surely the flayer wouldn¡¯t be hungry enough to eat Sheridan after only fours hours, would it? Then again ¡­ why did the flayer eat Junius at all? Since when did one sapient eat another? Sea dragons never ate humans. Humans never ate Salamandra. But for some reason the flayers didn¡¯t care about sapience, perhaps they only cared if one was a flayer. Outside, a footbridge connected Junius¡¯s house to the street. Beneath the bridge ran a moat, which Alia knew surrounded the whole of the house. Two men stood on the other side of the bridge, warily eying the moat, for its roiling waters sparked lightning. Alia also paused before stepping onto the bridge. What if ¡­? Fortunately, she always kept her Ellura holstered on her thigh. The Ellura confirmed her hunch: a ward covered the door. Experience had taught Alia the door itself would not be visible to anyone standing outside; once she closed it she would need to pick the ward. The moat suggested failure would lead to a disastrous end. Good thing Junius was dead then. A tall porphyry vase near the door would serve as an excellent prop to keep the door open. ¡°Hello?¡± One of the men called to her just as she finished dragging the vase into place. Alia straightened. Upon closer look, the two men proved to be members of the Watch, in obedience to the command she sent back to guard Fellrath¡¯s house. Apparently they didn¡¯t trust the bridge, because they remained where they were. Nor did they seem to trust her either, for they kept their hands hovering over their flintlocks as they eyed her. Hmm, their flintlock scabbards looked practical. If she had kept the Dragon Pearl IV strapped to her thigh, instead of holstered in her coat, she wouldn¡¯t have had to abandon Sheridan. ¡°Watch-Huntress Alia Ironwing. There¡¯s a flayer in the dungeon below. He, or she, or it, is holding my apprentice hostage,¡± she said. The men did a double take. They looked her over, visually counting her bits and noting they were still attached. ¡°How did you ¡­?¡± Alia stepped onto the bridge. They backed up to let her pass. ¡°Huntsman Sheridan, son of Conall, is the flayer¡¯s hostage. Yes, hostage, because it turns out flayers are intelligent. The one in the cellar spoke Pelasgian. So. Under the circumstances, I advise not making assumptions of the flayers¡¯ capabilities. Do not go into the house, lest it hear you, and think I¡¯m violating the terms of our arrangement.¡± A look of eloquent shock and horror came over the men¡¯s faces. After several attempts, one of them finally uttered a coherent response. ¡°If they¡¯re intelligent, why do they act like animals?¡± . ¡°For the moment there¡¯s little profit in resolving that paradox. The most important matter right now is keeping it contained. Stay out here. It moves fast. You¡¯ll hear a clicking sound if it¡¯s approaching, so pay attention.¡± ¡°Will do,¡± they solemnly agreed. She tersely gave them the rest of her instructions, then sprinted off. Junius Fellrath¡¯s home was ensconced in a neighborhood of sorcerers. The streets were not arranged in a standard grid; the Peach Blossom Estates used a nautilus shell layout instead. Thus, one main avenue on the outer edge of the neighborhood wound round and round, growing narrower and narrower until terminating in a park in the center of the neighborhood. The residential streets connected only with the avenue, not with each other. This latter detail worked in Alia¡¯s favor, for Fellrath¡¯s home bordered the park. No one who trekked that far would do so casually, by accident. Furthermore, they wouldn¡¯t spot the Watchmen until it was too late. The Watchmen in turn could trap them by blocking off access to the central avenue. Running at a steady pace brought her soon enough onto the city streets. Another five minutes and she finally reached a public depot. Flashing her golden eagle amulet at the beastmaster attendant earned her a gryphon free of charge. Her money was in her coat; she was obliged to pull rank. At the Watch headquarters her commander, Captain Eskandar Palamara, gave a start when he saw her. Serafina had reported in, informing him of Alia¡¯s disappearance. He paled when she told him of the flayer. ¡°Flayers can talk?¡± His booming voice carried easily. Everyone in the open office froze in place when they heard that. All eyes turned to Alia. ¡°Yes,¡± she confirmed. ¡°And they have a motive. Is Serafina on her way?¡± ¡°She was still trying to figure out where the portal went. Let her know that¡¯s not necessary now.¡± A scryer¡¯s globe rested in the right-hand corner of Alia¡¯s desk. The globe would fit in her palm if she were inclined to pick it up; otherwise she left it on its power base. Made of bronze, the power base was engraved with the signs of the zodiac. Four bands of gold, lapis, electrum, and silver, rotated independently above it. Each band represented different celestial objects. The icon on the gold band stood for the sun, and Alia promptly rotated the icon to align with the Hound sign of the zodiac. Four buttons on the lapis band represented the moon¡¯s phases. She aligned the half-moon with the electrum band¡¯s counting of the eclipse cycle, and pushed the button to lock it into position. For this call she did not require the silver band, which held symbols of the Seeker¡¯s Alliance. The globe flared, and Alia announced herself. Serafina answered her personal call globe right away. ¡°Alia? You¡¯re alive! Where¡¯s Sheridan?¡± By now Alia knew to pause after revealing that the flayers were intelligent. To her surprise, Serafina took the revelation in stride. ¡°Ah, so Grammy wasn¡¯t joking about that. Good to know.¡± Alia narrowed her eyes. ¡°Your grandmother told you the flayers can talk?¡± ¡°Yes, yes, among the many other stories she told me. But her life story is a little too exciting, so I was never sure which ones were true. You understand¡ªer¡ªwell, you know what I mean.¡± Alia let the reference to her unorthodox family pass unremarked. ¡°I have to see the Counselor. Is everything secure where you are? Did you find anything we can use?¡± Now she took the globe from its base, to bring it close enough to herself for Serafina to lower her voice. ¡°Nothing that can¡¯t wait, under the circumstances. Should I go and keep watch over Sheridan?¡± Alia hesitated. Would Serafina¡¯s presence antagonize the flayer? Then again, Serafina might be the best chance of survival for Sheridan and the other Watchmen. ¡°Go. But don¡¯t enter the house. Just listen. If Sheridan screams¡ª¡± ¡°It will be too late. Sorry. However, I will inform the flayer that if Sheridan doesn¡¯t leave the basement unharmed, the flayer will also not leave the basement alive.¡± In all her years of knowing Serafina, Alia never once saw her immolate anyone. When they first met, Serafina informed her of her ability to do so, and asked if Alia still wished to work with her. But in her childhood the dryads taught Alia of the treaty between them and the Salamandra Under the treaty, Salamandra were forbidden to kill humans except in self-defense. Flayers enjoyed no such protection. ¡°Thank you,¡± Alia said. The globe made a clicking sound when she returned it to its base, and the bands rotated back to their starting position. Reflexively she reached for her coat on the back of her chair, and exhaled in frustration at its absence. The enchantment her mother had woven into the coat marked Alia as being part of a dryad grove, and therefore under the aegis of the daughters of the Huntress. A heavy hitter to keep in her quiver, one which would put her on proper footing with the khrestai, the wardens of the forests. She long-suspected the khrestai didn¡¯t ¡®see¡¯ the way humans did. Part of how they recognized someone was by scents and auras; illusions did not fool them. Only once in her life did Alia meet the khrestai¡¯s high counselor, when duty obliged her to pay her respects upon first coming to Ebon Cove. Thereafter, etiquette rules excused her from social calls unless the counselor invited her, or her visit was in observation of certain days sacred to the Huntress. The thought of visiting the counselor for this occasion made her belly roil and her shoulders stiffen, the latter of which she only noticed when she entered the courtyard to retrieve her rented gryphon. The beast was dun-colored, both in hair and feathers, and was clad in a basic leather harness. Only the red leather collar around its neck showed some sign of adornment. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. For a moment Alia contemplated using one of the Watch¡¯s sleeker, more regal gryphons. But then she decided the docility of a public transport gryphon might better underscore her peaceful intentions. Public gryphons were also fast, and Alia¡¯s allowed her to reach the high counselor¡¯s doorstep in less than half an hour. No one could mistake the door of a high counselor, on account of vines of ruby and aqua wreathed around it. The huge, elaborate flowers dotting the vines only grew on khrestai houses, and the colors of fire and water only appeared on the home of the high counselor. The door opened as she approached. A small woman stood in the doorway. Long, swan white hair floated about her, held back by a wreath of violets. Winsome though she might have appeared, her face remained expressionless as she folded her arms businesslike beneath her bosom. ¡°High Counselor, I hope I am not disturbing you,¡± Alia began. No more than two hours remained before sunrise. ¡°My name is¡ª¡± ¡°I remember you,¡± came the sharp reply. ¡°What is it you need from me?¡± ¡°The way to save a life,¡± Alia answered promptly. On her way there she had rehearsed what she would say. Offending khrestai was no light risk; in her childhood she once observed the consequences of angering them. Humans merely yelled or hit; a khrestai grew quiet and contemplated what should happen to those who trespassed on their goodwill. The high counselor blinked. Alia tried to hide her reaction. Was it her imagination, or had she surprised the counselor? Dread took residence in the pit of her stomach. Her suspicions circled her, like wolves with their prey. Ever since meeting the flayer, she harbored a particular suspicion as to why the creatures had reappeared in Thuraia. The implications were disquieting enough to her. And to the Counselor? If Alia were right, heavy choices lay ahead for both of them. ¡°What is this life in need of saving?¡± the counselor¡¯s tone was wary. The words hovered in Alia¡¯s throat, unvoiced. Speaking directly was her standard mode, because she always spoke the truth. Now the truth¡ªwhat she suspected to be the truth¡ªwas dangerous. Again she chose her words with care. ¡°A flayer has captured my apprentice. To save his life, I gave my oath to the flayer to find out who within this world is killing the flayers in theirs. Should I fail, the death of my apprentice will neither be the beginning, nor the end of their rampage here.¡± ¡°Someone is killing the flayers in their world? Who in this world could do that?¡± A direct question. A trap. A trap Alia sidestepped. ¡°The flayer claims its lands are drained of life, Benevolent One. Drained, it says, by natives of our realm.¡± There. No khrestai would permit the blighting of land, except by divine decree, lest they themselves fall subject to the Great Curse. The counselor did not react. Well. Then again, the khrestai notoriously did not ¡®read¡¯ contracts and covenants the same way humans did. Was it possible the counselor knew of an exception to the laws of the Huntress? Talk about getting caught between a dragon and a basilisk! The Counselor¡¯s eyes bored into hers. Her expression did not change at all. Was she angry, or merely thinking? Khrestai rarely changed their expressions when angered; they were calm one minute and hurling lightning the next. At last, the counselor spoke. ¡°My condolences to you,¡± she said. ¡°On the fate of your apprentice.¡± Silence hung between them. Shock and despair moved Alia to find her voice quickly. ¡°With respect, I am not here for your condolences. I came for your help. Who or what in our world could steal life from the realm of the flayers?¡± Inwardly she prayed the counselor would point her to suspects other than the particular candidate looming large in her mind. ¡°Who here in our would have need to do so?¡± the counselor replied. The deep chill in her voice served as a warning. The only warning Alia would get. Without a word she shut the door in Alia¡¯s face. Ice water pooled in Alia¡¯s belly as she contemplated the heavy choices before her. ¡°Please, Huntress: Let me be wrong,¡± she whispered.
In the depths of the forest violet lights lit her path, winking in and out in time with her progress as though a strange and wondrous species of firefly served as her torch. Welcome back, Alia. However, the lights did not come from fireflies, but from wisps. And wisps heralded the presence of sylphs. Which told her the dryads were also near. The wisps spangled an arbor¡ªthe only indication of the arbor¡¯s presence. Gone were the days when the grove welcomed respectful strangers. Entry was forbidden to all who had never passed through from the other side of that door. Alia stepped through. Once beyond the arbor the darkness vanished. Now she stood in a green meadow, ringed with graceful stone-carved caryatids of the Huntress. Flat capitals atop the statues served as the bases for iron braziers. The braziers contained not fire, but light. Bright, blue light illuminated the meadow as though there were two full moons shining down. She was not alone. In the center of the meadow, dryads gathered, clustered around one whose circlet of gold was peeking through her russet hair. Rikka, the keeper. Wolves interspersed among them yelped and keened. Restless, the beasts paced about, not sitting still for their mistresses. One wolf, silver and white, turned its ear as Alia approached, followed by its nose. Suddenly, it rose to all fours and bounded over to her. The wolf circled her, then pushed its muzzle against her legs. Even were it a cloudy, moonless night, Alia still would have recognized the wolf for its scent of musk mixed with balsam and soil. ¡°Hello, Misty. I missed you, too.¡± Alia stroked the wolf¡¯s ears and head. Misty rewarded her with a low growl of pleasure. The wolf¡¯s breakaway did not go unnoticed. The dryad she previously kept company turned to see where she had gone. When the dryad saw her, she gave a start. Her eyes darted from Alia to the circle. Alia smiled tentatively at her. ¡°Mother ¡­¡± With one final glance at the circle, her mother strode over to Alia. Fitting for the season of autumn, the dryad wore a plain deerskin dress, trimmed in the speckled white feathers of a falcon. With this change of season the dryads all assumed an autumn guise; for her mother this meant assuming an amber coloring, hair in shades of rust, and exuding the scent of apples. In the daylight her eyes would be tawny, and warm, and sweet. So it had always been, as Alia knew her. But now her mother eyed her warily, and her manner seemed guarded even as she visually checked her over for signs of good health. At least her tone was gentle when she spoke. ¡°My child. This is no time for your presence.¡± So rarely did the coterie exclude Alia that the moments stood sharply in her mind. Now, in this moment, her heart began to pound. ¡°I know. Mother¡ªI know what you have done.¡± Alia¡¯s words hung in the air. With the stillness of a tree, her mother remained in place, hugging herself. With her body clenched so tightly, Samara offered no hint an embrace was forthcoming. Every muscle in Alia¡¯s body tensed. So. Was she right, then? ¡°Mother. Did you hear me¡ª?¡± ¡°Then why have you come?¡± Samara demanded. ¡°What is it you want of us?¡± ¡°Your word that none of you have brought the Great Curse upon yourselves.¡± Samara¡¯s breath caught. Hardening herself, Alia studied her mother, summoning up all of the lessons her mother and aunts taught her to see the truth as it was. Either the grove had brought the wrath of the Huntress down upon them, or they hadn¡¯t. Either they had cut themselves off from the Huntress forever, or they hadn¡¯t. But Samara looked sharply away from her scrutiny, instead fixing her gaze on the nearest caryatid. On the face of her Mother. ¡°Speak not of such calamity,¡± Samara said finally. ¡°For we still reside in the bosom of our Mother.¡± Alia didn¡¯t even realize she¡¯d been holding her breath until she exhaled. Whatever happened next she could handle it, she told herself. ¡°Huntress be praised,¡± she said. ¡°Nevertheless, I must speak to the Keeper. Please don¡¯t stop me, Mother.¡± Samara stepped aside, and followed Alia to the circle. Now that she was sure the dryads hadn¡¯t brought down the Great Curse, Alia¡¯s steps were sure, confident. No longer was her mind divided by terror; no longer did she fear to face her kin. Several other dryads quieted when they saw her. Xylia, her favorite aunt, glanced at Rikka then at Alia. From head to toe Xylia assumed a vermilion aspect, like an autumn leaf, but unlike Samara she did not trouble herself with clothes. Whatever the season, only her knee-length hair covered her. However, Rikka didn¡¯t see Alia, for her eyes were cast skyward as she chanted in the language of her Mother. That was when Alia noticed the juvenile wolf Rikka held aloft like an offering. Abruptly, Rikka lowered the wolf and thrust it outward, though she still held tight. In her hands the wolf whimpered. A golden light enveloped it. Alia¡¯s eyes widened. Surely Rikka wouldn¡¯t¡ªcouldn¡¯t¡ªdo what Alia thought she was going to. Such power was lost to the dryads when the Blight came. And yet. One moment Rikka gripped a wolf. Now she cradled a rabbit. The wolves in the circle bolted to all fours. Their pelts swelled as they growled at their brother-turned-prey. Their dryad mistresses each put a hand on their heads, an unspoken order to heel. Once again Rikka chanted, and once again a golden glow surrounded the creature in her hands. She set it on the ground; a wolf once more. The dryads cheered and clapped. No longer restrained, their wolves bolted, meeting Rikka¡¯s wolf in the middle of the circle. The wolves sniffed and touched muzzles, and seemed to accept the shape-changed juvenile as one of their own. The dryads hugged each other. They hugged Alia, too, though most of them didn¡¯t seem to realize she was there, so profound was their exultation. After one round of hugs they presented themselves to Rikka, forming a receiving line in which they took turns hugging her. When Alia finally reached her, Rikka gave a start. In times past, the long look Rikka gave Alia would have made her clench her teeth in fear. But after the flayer, Alia¡¯s gauge for terrifying had re-calibrated: the Keeper simply was not going to eat her or strip her of her skin. ¡°Keeper,¡± she said evenly, and added a slight curtsy. She waited. Rikka raised her head; the other dryads fanned out behind her. To Alia¡¯s surprise¡ªand gratification¡ªher mother came up beside her. Rikka flicked a glance at Samara, but otherwise concentrated on Alia. ¡°I did not summon you,¡± the keeper began. ¡°Do I now need a summons to return home?¡± Alia countered, keeping her voice as calm as she could. Would Rikka exile her? This time the ice water in her belly chilled her to her spirit. To be cut off from the grove was unthinkable, beyond her scope of imagining. A tremor shot through Alia¡¯s body. Samara slipped her arm in with Alia¡¯s steadying her. ¡°Your place is amongst men and women, on the paths the Exalted Mother directs you to travel. But your presence pleases us. Enough¡ªwhy are you here?¡± Alia let out a subtle sigh of relief. In times past, Samara and the other dryads could leave their groves and go where they pleased, so long as they took some part of it with them. Now the sorcerers¡ªhow?¡ªhad somehow destroyed their ability to freely travel. If Alia could not come to the grove she could never see her mother; Samara could no longer visit her. ¡°To report the death of an enemy, and to request aid for an ally,¡± Alia answered. Dryads preferred direct and stark terms when speaking. A manner which they passed to Alia, which caused her no end of trouble with humans. Tact, diplomacy¡ªthese did not naturally exist in her arsenal. Even worse, humans did not observe the same rules of etiquette dryads did so she couldn¡¯t guess what humans would consider rude and where she must be tactful, or why. Rikka spread her arms, an invitation for the others to come closer. Alia took that as her cue to continue, reporting to them the night¡¯s events. News of Fellrath¡¯s death made her aunts perk up. Beside her Samara¡¯s breathing quickened. ¡°The flayer is intelligent, which I suppose you knew; and it claims that someone in our world is taking life from their world. I don¡¯t understand how that works, exactly, but I must return with an answer within two hours, lest Sheridan die.¡± Rikka smiled, startling her. ¡°The flayers we already know of, girl. The one you spoke of, bring it here. There are things we would say to it.¡± ¡°What?¡± When Samara assured her they hadn¡¯t brought the Great Curse upon themselves, Alia had interpreted it to mean they were wholly innocent in the flayer affair. ¡°Are you saying you knew¡ª?¡± ¡°Do you forget what we are? Of course we knew of their presence. But the flayers endanger none except the sorcerers aligned with the Fellrath-man. Child, were you raised to require me to give you the same order twice?¡± Alia¡¯s spine snapped straight, a reflex against that tone. ¡°Do you have any advice for transporting a flayer?¡± she asked, finding her voice. ¡°A way to control it?¡± ¡°Choose whatever conveyance mortals use for travel. As for control: Let the flayer know a keeper summons it.¡± Chapter 3: Negotiations Chapter III Negotiations In which the flayer is confronted, and Alia receives a startling revelation ¡°Sheridan?¡± Alia stood at the top of the staircase to the dungeon, and called down. If Sheridan failed to answer, she would step aside and let Serafina ¡®do her thing.¡¯ Serafina stood next to her, glaring into the darkness. Rather than announcing herself to the flayer when she walked into Junius Fellrath¡¯s house, she simply walked in, and stood at the doorway. Flayers possessed an acute sense of smell, Serafina explained, and the scent of Salamandra differed from the scent of humans. ¡°I¡¯m still here,¡± Sheridan answered, in a small voice. ¡°Are you well?¡± On the way back Alia¡¯s heart leapt into her mouth when she realized she failed to spell out what ¡®unharmed¡¯ meant. What if the flayer thought it harmless to swipe off Sheridan¡¯s ear or nose? What in the name of the Huntress made her forget that if humans didn¡¯t share the same fundamental assumptions she did, the flayers certainly wouldn¡¯t? ¡°I am well,¡± he assured her. Serafina took to the stairs first, preceding Alia. Determined and resolute, the women strode downstairs, though Serafina declined to light the way. Not using her flames was Serafina¡¯s way of saying she came in peace; therefore, Alia relied on her Ellura wand. However, Alia openly carried Sheridan¡¯s gun. When Serafina arrived at Fellrath¡¯s house she brought Alia¡¯s coat, but Alia opted to keep her own gun hidden in reserve in her coat¡¯s holster. The flayer met them at the foot of the stairwell. Apparently the creature expected trouble, for its body was poised in a fighting stance, with its claws upraised. Alia remained on the third-to-last step, but Serafina stood before her on the dungeon floor. A mere arm¡¯s length from the flayer. But Serafina loomed over the creature, and her stare obliged it to back up a step. As Serafina had vowed, the flayer would have to go through her to get to Alia. Ignoring the flayer for the moment, Alia looked past the creature to Sheridan. The young man sat on the floor, of his cell, knees drawn up. He gingerly probed the thin red line on his neck, where the flayer had slashed him. His eyes were riveted on the flayer, and his mouth was pinched at the corners as his jaw was locked shut. Keeping his screams on the inside, Alia supposed. ¡°The Keeper of the Ebon Grove summons you,¡± Alia said without preamble. Ebon Grove was the name humans used for her mother¡¯s grove. But dryads classified their groves according to their own purposes, and for Samara and Alia¡¯s aunts the forest¡¯s true name translated to ¡°Land of the Radiant Gate.¡± But dryads did not permit humans to know of the Gate¡¯s existence, and Alia had sworn a blood oath not to speak of it. ¡°The Keeper?¡± Was it her imagination, or did the flayer suddenly stand taller? ¡°You know of the Keeper?¡± Alia asked. ¡°Your Gate Guardians. Yes. And there will be no hostilities in my passage?¡± Its eyes slid to Serafina. Serafina made a sweeping gesture. ¡°Strike, and be struck down. Refrain from violence, and you will be spared from violence. Come.¡± The flayer¡¯s lip curled. ¡°Let us go.¡±
No ordinary conveyance would serve for transporting the flayer. Horses and gryphons did not tolerate the presence of a flayer, so carriages were out. Only dragons were unfazed by the creatures, so Captain Palamara arranged for a cloud ship to take Alia and her group to the grove. In Lyrcania, only the ruling archons were permitted the use of cloud ships, for they were the only ones permitted to personally own dragons, which carried the ships on their backs.However, when informed the dryads intended to deal with the flayers, the chief archon offered his personal sky yacht. Even so, the beast master pilots controlling the drakes still required hazard pay, which Palamara readily offered. To set everyone¡¯s mind at ease, Serafina used special handcuffs coated with Salamandran acid to bind the flayer¡¯s hands in front. However, the pilots remained uneasy, on account of another matter: the airspace over the grove was inhospitable to anyone mounted on gryphons or dragons. The winds would always blow the mounts far from the grove, or sometimes a shield bubble would rise above the canopy of the trees. Anyone striking the shield would find themselves teleported. Fortunate travelers found themselves teleported to a different part of Lyrcania. Unfortunate travelers could be sent to another nation altogether, whether known¡ªXia or Funan ¡ª or to a land so utterly unknown no map could guide them back home. However, once Alia reached adulthood, Rikka personally blessed and anointed her. Regardless of her means of arrival, Alia would always possess right of entry into the grove. ¡°So long as I am with you there¡¯s no reason to worry. Just fly,¡± Alia assured the pilots. Soon enough, the pilots marveled to discover that both the weather and the terrain cooperated in allowing them to land inside the grove. ¡°Handy to have you aboard,¡± noted the first pilot. Once Alia¡¯s group disembarked, they waited for the welcoming party of dryads to arrive. Singing sylphs and glowing wisps heralded their coming. The dryads took Sheridan¡ªand the flayer¡ªin stride. They reacted when they saw Serafina. All of the dryads formed an honor guard around Rikka. Hackles raised and teeth bared, their wolves deliberately paced the perimeter. Alia gave a start when she realized why they were on edge. She¡¯d forgotten about the Edict of Kyra: Salamandra were forbidden to enter any grove without an express invitation from its keeper. A lump formed in her throat. Maybe she truly did not belong in the grove anymore; how could she forget something so basic? You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡°Peace,¡± Alia said quickly. ¡°Serafina is oath-sworn to the Huntress, the same as I am. She¡¯s been helping me to track down the Brotherhood.¡± Serafina drew herself up to her full six feet and looked directly at Rikka. ¡°I can speak for myself. I am Serafina, from Tiger Vale in the rain shadowed scrubs of the Jade Mountains. In the name of our Exalted Mother the Huntress, I salute you, Keeper.¡± She knelt, a gesture Alia only saw her make when addressing the chrysopteron, the high priest of the Huntress. Our mother. Our. Alia noted that Rikka¡¯s eyes narrowed at this. ¡°A Salamandra swears allegiance to the Mother? Such a wonder I did not think I would see,¡± Rikka replied, her tone as dry as the thorn forests Serafina hailed from. Alia cocked her head. Why should it be remarkable that Serafina worshiped the Huntress? Serafina raised her eyes. ¡°Things are not as they were in your sapling days, Your Holiness. We the living adapt.¡± A raised eyebrow from Rikka was the only hint of the wheels turning in her mind, but Alia long ago considered it futile to try and guess the dryad¡¯s thoughts. Instead, she found herself fixated on Serafina¡¯s reference to Rikka¡¯s ¡®childhood,¡¯ from aeons past. While she never knew Serafina¡¯s precise age, comments and asides she made in the past gave Alia the impression the Salamandran was not more than eighty years old. Not nearly old enough to play the ¡®eldest of the eldest¡¯ game that immortals loved so, and certainly not old enough for Serafina to have been present for the War of Thunder, Rain, & Fire. Yet there were undercurrents in their talk that she would have to revisit. Later. ¡°Your servant has obeyed you, Keeper,¡± Alia cut in. Rikka made a gesture, and her dryads stood down. They relaxed, but only enough to give Rikka room to maneuver if she wished it. However, Rikka remained where she stood, and only nodded at the flayer. ¡°Speak,¡± came her somber command. ¡°My people will perish,¡± the flayer began. ¡°We know the cause is here. We compelled your sorcerers to come to our world, so that we may come to yours.¡± Amazement jolted the nerves in Alia¡¯s body, startling her out of the fatigue that had been gnawing at her. So this was how the flayers were arriving! She clasped a hand around her mouth, horrified even as she admired the elegant practicality of a brutal loophole the flayers had found¡ªand exploited¡ªin the laws of the keepers. Serafina looked surprised, as Alia noted when she checked her friends¡¯ reactions. Sheridan demanded, ¡°Why did you need the sorcerers? And how did you force them?¡± A dangerous question, with a simple answer. Nevertheless the geis upon her obliged Alia to hold her tongue. She glanced at Rikka, curious to see how she would respond to Sheridan. To her surprise, Rikka was staring straight at her, with an expression of faint approval on her face. She nodded once, silently giving her consent, and Alia spoke up. ¡°The sorcerers are easier to abduct. To anyone who can see auras, sorcerers stand out. Just as sorcerers summon Erebossi, the flayers must be able to summon people. And if they summon one of our people, that opens a kind of portal for them, doesn¡¯t it?¡± She glanced from Rikka to the flayer. The flayer made no gesture or expression, but Rikka¡¯s small shrug served as confirmation. Continuing, Alia said, ¡°This special portal lets the flayers come to our world, but in a limited number¡ªa one to one exchange. Even if you kill a flayer here, another can take its place. Unless the sorcerers return here.¡± The flayer looked long at her, its eyes contracting every so often as it sized her up. Swallowing hard, Alia stood her ground and returned the creature¡¯s gaze. ¡°It is as you say,¡± the flayer said at last. ¡°Kill me, and another will come. And another. And another. Until we have our answers. Until your people stop.¡± At last Rikka moved, and the dryads parted to allow her to stand beside Alia, face to face with the flayer. ¡°Your sufferings come by your hand.¡± Her eyes glittered coldly as she stared down at the creature. Shocked, Alia and her companions stared in silence at Rikka. The flayer; however, rocked back on its heels. ¡°Those sorcerers you summoned, you may keep to do as you will,¡± Rikka continued in her pitiless tone. ¡°Do also as you will with the sorcerers marked out for you, and your famine shall end. None other shall be your prey, only the ones we have marked for death at your hands.¡± ¡°You place the blame for our famine on us?¡± The flayer¡¯s nostrils flared. ¡°Indeed. By your own disobedience you have brought your curse upon yourselves: which god gave you leave to disregard my call for aid?¡± Alia whistled faintly, catching the import. A childhood spent in Rikka¡¯s circle taught her there were consequences to forcing a dryad to make a request twice. Covenants with the children of the gods routinely included clauses about what divine curses would be visited on those who broke faith with them. That part she understood. What she didn¡¯t understand was the idea of making a covenant with flayers. ¡°Do you purport to not know of the terms by which my Exalted Mother suffers your unnatural species to live? You are subject to the authority of myself and my sisters without exception, and this you surely know,¡± Rikka continued. The creature astonished Alia by dropping to its knees and bowing its head low. ¡°Correction accepted,¡± it snarled. Rikka said nothing. After a moment, the flayer added, ¡°And your terms as well.¡± The other dryads smiled. Samara caught Alia¡¯s gaze, and winked at her. Images flashed in Alia¡¯s mind of all the dryads lost, all she was still pursuing. And this night, of all nights, she had come sooo close to finally making progress against the Brotherhood. This night had given her the best chance she had to reclaim her aunts and save her mother. And it was all slipping away. With Rikka¡¯s sanction, no less. Serafina beckoned, and Alia and Sheridan clustered next to her so that Serafina could safely whisper. ¡°We should let this go, Alia,¡± Serafina said. ¡°If the Brotherhood is the target let the flayers do as they will, and keep everyone out of their way.¡± Sheridan fingered his neck. ¡°How do you know that no one innocent will get in their way?¡± Alia frowned. Rikka¡¯s scheme was a blunt instrument, and in Alia¡¯s memory Rikka had a deft touch. Finesse. Where was her finesse now? Alia could not help herself, her fear overrode the small voice in her head telling her to wait. ¡°A point,¡± she said loudly. ¡°Keeper, a word: whatever you will is whatever will be, but I remind you that my mission is not over. Aunt Nalini remains captive. As do the others. I need time. If the flayers kill everyone who knows everything, our people remain captive.¡± What she hoped would lead to sanity instead earned her a cutting stare from Samara, as though she had said something foolish. ¡°Just because you don¡¯t see the plan does not mean there is no plan,¡± Samara snapped. ¡°You know better. Do not shame me by acting otherwise.¡± Serafina jabbed her in the ribs and whispered, ¡°My granny doesn¡¯t like it when I try to teach her how to suck eggs. Yours can turn you into things ¡­¡± Stung, Alia took a deep breath and tried again. ¡°Then I will ask, how much time do I have? Before the Brotherhood is killed, how much time do I have? If I take a prisoner, will the flayers leave him to me, or will they insist on claiming him for their own?¡± The flayer hissed and Alia jumped. ¡°We are not carrion! Do not insult us so!¡± She started to reply, then stopped. Flayers did not snatch away a rival¡¯s prey? Now she saw the plan. ¡°Apologies,¡± she said to the flayer. ¡°And to you, Keeper, for questioning your judgment.¡± ¡°All must be done within the next two days and two nights,¡± Rikka said. She stared meaningfully at the flayer, who dipped its head to her in turn. Alia curtsied. ¡°Two days, and two nights, Keeper.¡± Chapter 4: Countdown Chapter IV Countdown In which Alia¡¯s plans bear fruit Timing was everything. Alia brought in echomancers, and requested an Ellura Astral-Mirror. This she placed on the stage of the town¡¯s amphitheater, which she commandeered for her next gambit. All of the townspeople were invited, especially ¡ª this Alia made sure of ¡ª key members of Junius Fellrath¡¯s circle. The show was set for noon, but Alia did not dare sleep. Too many threads on her loom obliged her to keep alert. From her own personal network of arcana she dispatched officers to listen, observe, or act according to the orders she gave them. Noontime found her pacing in the middle of the amphitheater stage, obsessively checking her astrolabe as artificers from the Ellura company finished setting up a giant mirror. The colossal astral mirror had to be assembled in sections, and after hours of work¡ªshe¡¯d called them at dawn¡ªthey were finally working on the last piece. Alia looked around and smiled. The amphitheater was packed. Getting people to come was easy; all she had to do was offer free food. Her captain could not stop grumbling at the expense needed to entice the better tavern keepers to set up concession stands, strategically placed throughout the tiers of seats. Sizzling meat cooking on the griddles made her stomach rumble and her mouth water. A breeze tickled her sinuses, carrying upon it the sharp scent of freshly ground long pepper. Carried, naturally enough, from the tin kept open by Lyssa the Gold fifty feet away from her. The most beloved baker in town, Lyssa famously spiced her cookies with long pepper. ¡°Finished,¡± the master artifex alerted her. ¡°Take a seat then,¡± Alia said, gesturing for the echomancers to come forward. One echomancer carried an ornate Ellura wand, a five pointed star, sapphire in an electrum setting. Alia once again consulted her astrolabe. Noon exactly. She breathed a sigh of relief as she snapped the fob shut. At a nod from her, the announcer sounded the horn. Alia straightened. She had everyone¡¯s attention. Use it well, she told herself. ¡°Ladies and Gentlemen of Ebon Cove, may I introduce myself? I am Watch-Huntress Alia Ironwing. I have invited all of you here because time is short, and I am determined to protect you good people from the harm that threatens you now. You may have heard of strange disappearances and mysterious deaths. In the space of a month three men have disappeared, all ordinary citizens of Ebon Cove.¡± She worked hard to suppress the irony in her voice when she called the victims ordinary. For the first time she wondered if she should have assigned Serafina this task. Lacking a talent for artifice as well as acting, Alia felt unequal to the theatrics she needed to pull off for this part. People were difficult enough for her to read, how was she to play on their emotions? Murmurs rippled through the crowd. ¡°I¡¯m afraid the disappeared may not return. When you see this, you will understand, and I will take your questions after. Hawkwing?¡± The echomancer stepped forward. He turned the mirror¡¯s dial according to the astral coordinates Alia gave him. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he gently struck the mirror. Fortunately the sunlight in the late autumn sky was too dull to bounce off the mirrors and blind everyone. A hush fell over the crowd as everyone watched the events unfold on the mirrors. A larger-than-life Junius sat in the prow of a skiff as Gavin rowed. The men chatted freely as they approached the shoreline of the lighthouse. They kept up their chatter as they stepped onto land and began walking to the bluff. Alia held her breath. Though she had seen this part before, she still startled when the scene unfolded. The crowd gasped and shrieked when the flayers suddenly appeared before the men. The men screamed in terror; the audience screamed in unison. Junius stumbled backward, clutching an amulet he wore around his neck. A flayer lunged at him, but caught only air as Junius vanished. Gavin ran, kicking up sand as he dashed up the bluff. He only managed five steps. The remaining flayer stayed on his heels. Claws lashed out, and with one swipe the flayer severed Gavin¡¯s spine. An eternity went by before his legs collapsed, sending him sprawling to the ground. ¡°Freeze,¡± Alia ordered. The echomancer tapped the mirror once. ¡°The monsters are the flayers,¡± Alia said, stepping in front of the mirror, where all eyes were riveted. Though she appeared relatively diminutive compared to the mirrors, she gave the audience something to focus on besides the impending carnage. She continued, ¡°And what¡¯s more, the flayers are intelligent¡± ¡ª here she paused to let this sink in ¡ª ¡°and one spoke to me. Let me assure you, not everyone is in danger. Their targets are associates of these two men, Junius Fellrath and Gavin Kyr. I warn you, if you ever dealt with these men socially or professionally, or their circle of associates, time is short.¡± Lessons from Serafina taught her to now pause, to allow her words to sink in. Everyone was leaning forward. ¡°No matter who you are, no matter what you have done, I will not accept the flayers running around meting their own vengeance against any resident of Ebon Cove. I won¡¯t have it.¡± Anger gave her voice an edge, and she didn¡¯t restrain herself from showing it at the end of her speech. Trained as she was to protect people from Erebossi, Alia hated to make an exception for flayers. Though the creatures weren¡¯t from Erebossa in general, or the Abyssal Serpent in particular, they were still invaders who preyed upon people. What infuriated her was Rikka having to call upon them at all. Never had Alia imagined failing her family so badly, but fail she did: no dryad taken by Fellrath¡¯s people was ever seen again. However, Alia¡¯s show of emotion apparently piqued a righteous fire in the audience, because they roared their approval of her sentiments. Following Serafina¡¯s advice, Alia allowed them to indulge their emotions for a few moments. When their thunderous applause subsided, she began again. ¡°I negotiated a cease fire.¡± Alia lowered her voice, forcing them to be still and listen. ¡°However, the cease fire ends two mornings from now. For the time being, the only way to be safe from them is to put yourself in my care. The flayers insist they will not kill anyone in my custody. Be warned: any friend of Junius Fellrath who is not under my protection is fair game in their eyes. Mr. Hawkwing?¡± The echomancer re-set the machine, this time to show Alia standing in a field with two of the flayers. At Alia¡¯s request, Fellrath¡¯s flayer had summoned its companion to a field outside of the grove. This was by design; Alia did not want the dryads¡¯ involvement to become public knowledge. Rapt, the audience perched on the edge of their seats, watching Mirror-Alia as she stood fearlessly before the Mirror-flayers. When the first flayer spoke, a silence so profound fell over the audience Alia literally heard a hairpin drop. ¡°I get two days,¡± Mirror-Alia said. ¡°And your word you will harm no one in my custody, no matter what.¡± ¡°Two days,¡± the second flayer snapped. By pre-arranged agreement, the echomancer paused the replay, freezing the moment. Serafina had convinced Alia that the sight of a talking flayer would sear the memory of everyone who witnessed it. Especially as the revelation came in tandem with proof Alia could face the flayers unscathed. Alia made a show of taking out her astrolabe and tapped a tiny button, causing a golden sundial to project itself overhead, visible to all. ¡°It is now a quarter to one. We have less than thirty-six hours before the flayers start killing again. The guardsmen of Lyrcania will do what we can in the meantime to make sure everyone is safe. But I urge you all, if you think you are in danger, please come to me.¡±
¡°Are you ready?¡± Sheridan asked. ¡°We¡¯ve got people here already.¡± Alia rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. All of her energy vanished when she stepped out of the amphitheatre and into one of the Watch¡¯s carriages. She slept the entire ride back to the fortress. A persistent Sheridan managed to awaken her, long enough for her to stumble into the nearest empty office and fall asleep the moment her head hit the couch cushions. Now hours later, Alia got to her feet. She glanced down, remembering to notice her clothes. Rumpled. Humans had rules about the state of clothing, she discovered. Especially the humans with military titles. Sheridan pointed to a green deerskin satchel sitting on a desk. With a jolt, Alia recognized it as her own. ¡°Serafina brought that for you,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll tell the others you¡¯ll be along.¡± Lingering fatigue obliged Alia to suppress a yawn. ¡°Did you sleep, too?¡± Hopefully he wouldn¡¯t think her rude for her asking. Being raised by dryads meant she did not intrude upon the privacy of others, but what tripped her up was the difference between what the dryads considered private, and what humans considered private. Mapping dryad behaviors onto human interactions frequently resulted in strange reactions. What made things worse for Alia was how rarely people understood their customs to be optional, a particular way of doing things, but not the only way. Nevertheless, many people judged her egregiously rude at best, and barbaric at worst because she didn¡¯t know their customs. And learning from scratch was exhausting. This was why she preferred Serafina¡¯s company; as a human Alia could never do ¡®salamandran-ing¡¯ wrong. But with humans she kept running into rules she never imagined existing. Sheridan was different. He, too, had grown up isolated from humans. He was raised by his grandfather in the woodlands of Serica, miles and miles away from Ebon Cove. And miles from everything else, from what Alia understood. The young man was live-and-let-live with her, and she sensed a certain commonality in outlook when she first met him. ¡°Not really,¡± Sheridan admitted. The puffiness around his eyes verified his words. ¡°I kept waking up and thinking a flayer was behind me. From what you said, it¡¯s impossible to keep them from coming, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Indeed. For now it doesn¡¯t matter, though. Not as long as they¡¯re not after anyone besides the Brotherhood. But I will ask the keeper about it when this is over. I doubt she would tell me now.¡± ¡°Does she not trust you?¡± Alia considered the question for a moment. Though Rikka was not exactly warm, there was something lovely and wonderful about dryads: they were so damn blunt and honest. They never kept her guessing where she stood. If Rikka didn¡¯t trust her she would have said so, and meted out correction as necessary. ¡°Trust isn¡¯t the issue. But dryads have a particular burden. The burden is heavy, and dryads believe it wrong to share their burden with anyone who isn¡¯t empowered to carry it. My living amongst humans means I have ties and obligations to you that present certain ¡­ complications,¡± Alia said. Sheridan looked askance at her. ¡°Such as?¡± ¡°Would you or Palamara count it as a betrayal if I kept certain secrets from you that you think I should have told you? But what if I gave my word to not tell those secrets? Or what if telling you means you incur an obligation you would not willingly choose, but now have no choice but to carry out?¡± ¡°Knowledge that confers an obligation I would not choose? Never thought about that angle. Interesting.¡± Sheridan¡¯s lips quirked, for reasons Alia could not guess. He left her alone to get ready. Slinging her satchel over her shoulder, Alia headed for the barracks where the new recruits stayed. And where the closest showers were. When Alia finally presented herself in the common room she was confronted with a maelstrom of activity. Everyone¡¯s nerves were on edge, and Alia¡¯s act had set so much in motion that her captain said he wished he had six different copies of himself to keep everything straight. Alia clenched her jaw. This was exactly the situation she wanted to avoid. Ideally, she would be the one to route all the information, and read all of the reports as they came in. For the Watch this was a case; for Alia it was a quest, and she¡¯d borne it the longest of anyone there. She would know at a glance which details were significant and which ones weren¡¯t. Expelling a sigh, she acknowledged to herself the situation couldn¡¯t be helped. ¡°Brief me, please,¡± Alia asked the captain. Fellrath¡¯s home yielded a treasure trove, fulfilling Alia¡¯s hopes. But Palamara waved that away. ¡°There are sorcerers here who insist on speaking to you. They¡¯re not all from the Brotherhood. Or at least, they were never linked to the Brotherhood before now. But some of them are definitely part of Fellrath¡¯s group, and it might be best to treat them all as guilty until proven otherwise. They¡¯re cooling their heels in one of the parlor rooms.¡± ¡°How long have they been waiting?¡± ¡°Four of them have been here four, maybe five hours now. Two arrived an hour ago. In case it matters, they think you are keeping them waiting.¡± Alia raised her eyebrows, but refrained from saying anything. Thanks to her time with humans she recognized the keep them waiting tactic. Serafina had explained the tactic¡¯s purpose after an archon of the city spectacularly failed in using it on Alia. Arrogant, the archon believed he need not answer to the priestess when her investigations brought her to his office. Unfortunately for him, Alia innocently ruined his maneuver when she began ordering around the weak-witted lackeys who worked for him, obliging them to bring her the records and documents she had come for in the first place. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. When yet another lackey had failed to come at his summons, the archon was stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Alia holding court in his antechamber. He had tried to protest, but Alia demanded his silence and forced him to wait for her to finish giving her latest order before she suffered him to talk. The man looked as if she had horse whipped him, but she hadn¡¯t regarded his astonishment at the time. ¡°They must be restless,¡± Alia said. ¡°Like caged gryphons.¡± Palamara laughed. ¡°And what of it? Haven¡¯t you heard? You¡¯re the talk of town! You met two flayers and lived! And you set the terms they agreed to. Letting the whole town see it was an inspired idea. From now on, you are officially a woman to be reckoned with. You have no idea how many doors you¡¯ve opened for yourself, do you? Eyes are on you now. Remember that. Use it.¡± Natural modesty inclined her to protest, but Alia managed to keep her silence. Discretion gained the upper hand with her: to reveal the dryads¡¯ role in the negotiations would only bring problems on their doorstep. Instead she turned her attention for the moment to the reports stacked on her desk. Occasionally she interrupted herself to question officers mentioned in the reports, or to examine evidence brought in. Only when she thoroughly satisfied herself that she was well versed in the latest intelligence did Alia finally enter the Plum Blossom Room, where her visitors awaited her. The room, so called because of the plum trees outside the terrace doors, was in the east wing of the fortress. Far, far enough away from the hub of activity. Far enough away from anything the visitors could overhear. All eyes turned to her. The sorcerers bounced to their feet, snapping to attention. Alia suppressed a smile, realizing that Serafina had done right by her. The fresh clothes she brought Alia screamed ¡®authority.¡¯ More specifically, they screamed huntress. As well they should, for she wore the regalia of a huntress, a calf-length sleeveless silk tunic belted at her waist. Two scabbards hung at her belt, each bearing a moonbow blade. Below her belt the open tunic revealed the skirt of her ankle-length dress. From her necklace a chrysoprase amulet gleamed, all the better to feature a cameo of the golden eagle sigil of the Huntress. Around her upper arms Alia wore golden bands carved to resemble the wings of a golden eagle. Velvet gloves of forest green came to her elbows, and were styled as an elegant version of a falconer¡¯s gauntlets. ¡°Gentlemen,¡± Alia said coolly. She shut the door behind herself and folded her arms. Now she stood silent, still, and implacable¡ªthe daughter of a dryad. The men arrayed before her were a curious lot. One set she recognized as Fellrath¡¯s men. They occupied the sofa, munching down on a tray of finger foods on the table in front of them. Each man had at his feet a valise, and between them they carried one trunk. Alia raised an eyebrow. Did they think they could escape the flayers by leaving town? The remaining four men were clustered in armchairs by the glass doors leading to the terrace. One stood in front, apparently their leader. He dressed much like Sheridan, in a leather duster and sturdy trousers. On his feet he wore high quality leather boots, kept supple thanks to the oil and lamp black wax he used to condition them. Boldly he met her eyes and put his fists on his hips. This gesture opened his duster wide enough to reveal moonbow blades in the carved leather sheaths at his belt. That last detail impressed her; it was difficult to obtain moonbow steel in the first place. The temples of the Huntress controlled the trade tightly enough that most people must sit high in their favor to obtain a knife. Alia¡¯s knives were a gift from Rikka herself. ¡°So you¡¯re finally here,¡± he growled. ¡°Nice of you to make room in your schedule.¡± He and his friends came forward, to stand before her. ¡°I will brook no complaints,¡± Alia replied. She waited. The man favored her with an ironic bow. ¡°I am Tregarde, O Great Mighty One. And with me are Misra, Sharma, and Masson. We¡¯ve come to warn you.¡± Alia raised her chin and gave him the once-over. The names Tregarde and Masson signaled they were New Lyrcanians, as Fellrath¡¯s people were. Misra and Sharma were clearly Gandhari, and so were likely Old Lyrcanians. The Old Lyrcanians traced their lineage all the way back to the Deukalian Age, so named for the Pelasgian general who ruled a vast empire far away, across the Gold Sea. The Old Lyrcanians were the exiles, people expelled to what was now Lyrcania. That was when the Pelasgian Gate still stood. That was when the Lyrcanians were obliged to pay tribute. After the Fourth Cataclysm, those days were over. The New Lyrcanians were adventurers. They were descendants of traders from the Lyrcania Mercantile Voyagers, who saw it as their duty to foster and protect trade routes. They came three hundred years ago from a different empire, one called Rasena Valentis. Alia never studied the maps thoroughly enough, but she gathered Rasena Valentis encompassed more and less territory than the Pelasgian empire had. The Old Lyrcanians didn¡¯t trust the New. Her captain was an Old Lyrcanian, and he hadn¡¯t told her which of her guests he suspected were part of Junius Fellrath¡¯s brotherhood. Perhaps they were all the same to him, but Alia welcomed a chance to test her knowledge. She had worked diligently to determine the names of everyone in Fellrath¡¯s circle; she could identify on sight his aunts and uncles, and she even knew the name of the cat his primary mistress owned. Neither Tregarde¡¯s face nor name were known to her. If he were part of Fellrath¡¯s network, then it meant she still hadn¡¯t uncovered the full scope. She clenched her jaw, determined not to be discouraged. ¡°Six men to deliver one warning?¡± And that warning was apparently so important he could wait four hours to deliver it. ¡°Not me, huntress,¡± one cried. ¡°You said we could come to you for protection. That the flayers won¡¯t harm us if we¡¯re in your care. Why is that?¡± No taller than she and leaner in body, his demeanor suggested furtiveness. Never did he allow her to meet his eyes, his ceaselessly darted from hers even as he studied her in turn. ¡°They were not chatty.¡± The shifty-eyed man blinked in surprise. Good. Her peculiar bluntness threw people off-guard, and this time being herself was no hindrance. ¡°Which of you is here for my protection?¡± Shifty-eyes and his companion exchanged a glance. Ah, the pair were standing apart from the other four. Or¡ªshe favored them with greater scrutiny. The other sorcerers were standing apart from them. Tregarde studiously ignored them. ¡°And which of you are here for altruistic reasons?¡± Alia asked. Tregarde did a double take, and glanced at his three companions. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t put it that way, darlin¡¯. I wouldn¡¯t put it that way at all.¡± Alia swung her gaze back to Shifty and Friend. ¡°What were you to Junius Fellrath? Friend? Business partner?¡± Bag man. Shifty was nothing more than that, according to Alia¡¯s investigations. Whose name was¡­? Ah yes: Quintus. ¡°Nothing like that,¡± Quintus said hastily. ¡°I hardly knew him.¡± True. Very strictly true. ¡°In that case, you probably have nothing to worry about. Run along.¡± Quintus¡¯s jaw fell open. His expression was so comical that she smiled in response, before composing herself and saying, ¡°I am also not altruistic in this matter. If your association with Junius was so barebones as you say, then you have no meat to chew on. In that case you don¡¯t need protection, do you?¡± Quintus licked his lips, and brought forth a leather-bound codex from his coat. The volume was battered and worn and slightly foxed, as she saw when he placed it into her outstretched hand. ¡°I can be useful to you,¡± he said. ¡°Things I see, things I hear, I kept it all in here.¡± Alia thumbed through the book, fanning the pages open as she skimmed. ¡°And your friend?¡± Sweets. Low level throat-slitter. Sweets looked dismayed for a brief moment, but rallied quickly. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t write it down like ol¡¯ Quintus here, but I know where the bodies are buried, Lady Huntress. Keep it all up here, see.¡± He tapped his forehead. Sweets was also Quintus¡¯s cousin, which Alia discovered when she once followed them to a holiday gathering. Throwing Sweets to the wolves¡ªthe flayers¡ªwould only earn her pointless enmity. Quintus had bought them both passage, she decided. ¡°Let¡¯s see if you prove it. Present yourself to Constable Shu and tell him I said to give you quarters in the south tower.¡± The south tower was still a prison, only without bars and with beds sans bugs. Alia knew the men were frequent guests of the city jail, and had even spent time in prison. The south tower was such an obvious good deal that she expected it would whet their appetite. And give her leverage. As soon as the cousins were escorted out, Alia turned her attention to the remaining four. Who were eying her warily, sizing her up. Assessing her. Why? What had they expected? Surely they couldn¡¯t be concerned that she had broken any social rules? No, they were after something more. ¡°May I help you?¡± Only Sharma¡¯s barest glance at her amulet gave it away. Half a second, but all she needed to clench her jaw and calm herself. Thus, she bore it stoically when the blast of heat crested over her and warmed her from the outside in. Apple-green light flared from her amulet but her eyes were already closed, so she heard but did not see Sharma fly backwards across the room. Clang! The sound could only mean his body crashed into the wrought iron screen in front of the hearth. When Alia opened her eyes Masson and Misra were already moving to assist Sharma. Tregarde kept a wary eye on her as his gaze darted to his friends and back to her again. Alia fingered her amulet. She took out her pocket astrolabe and made a show of looking at it. ¡°Thirty seconds,¡± she warned. ¡°Forgive us, huntress,¡± Tregarde said quickly. ¡°We had to test you. Test your devotion to the Huntress.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because the flayers can be stopped.¡± Alia nearly shut her device, caught by surprise. ¡°Oh?¡± The man exuded confidence in his stride¡ªbut abruptly he stopped his approach. Again he eyed her warily, but what raised her guard was his foot pawing at the ground. Like a gryphon contemplating a potential threat. Awkward silences did not trouble her, and Alia eyed him in turn, curious about the battle he seemed to be waging inside himself. Finally, he squared his shoulders. ¡°I think I¡¯ve worked out what you¡¯re up to,¡± he said at last. ¡°That show you did today? Challenge, invitation, threat¡ªyou meant it as all three, which suits us fine. Point of fact, before today we were trying to figure out an introduction. All of us huntsmen know you¡¯re trying to stop the Brotherhood.¡± ¡°It¡¯s hardly a secret that I¡¯m trying to stop the sorcerers,¡± Alia pointed out. ¡°The Brotherhood,¡± Tregarde corrected. ¡°We are not all in on this.¡± Alia could not hide her disgust. ¡°Yet you sorcerers do nothing to stop it. None of you polices the other; not one of you has lifted a finger against Fellrath and his Brotherhood. And when I attempt to mete out justice, do I receive assistance from your order? No! You close ranks against me, as though unity is more important than doing the right thing. Why should I distinguish you sorcerers, when none of you distinguish yourselves? If the Huntress were before you now, what excuse would you give Her?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t assume too much,¡± Tregarde warned. ¡°Don¡¯t assume we would none of us pass the same test we gave you a minute ago.¡± He pointed to her amulet, and she reflexively touched it. If she had proved to be untrue to the Huntress, the amulet would have burned her through and through. Alia, having no sorcery of her own, relied on a divine curse to perform a similar test on one of Fellrath¡¯s pseudo-priests of the Huntress when she first arrived in Ebon Cove. The woman had been luring in young acolytes of the Huntress, then torturing them when she wasn¡¯t selling them into slavery. She twisted them until she broke them enough to make them carry out horrible orders. The shame alone would enslave them even if her powers didn¡¯t. The woman¡¯s amulet immolated her as surely as Serafina¡¯s flames would have. Alia had used her ashes to write a rebuke where all could see it. In this fashion she introduced herself to the underworld of Ebon Cove. ¡°Listen to me,¡± Tregarde urged. ¡°If I¡¯m right about what you¡¯re doing then those two upstandin¡¯ citizens you were so magnanimous with might be the only prizes you win tonight. They can¡¯t be the high and mighty ones. And those won¡¯t be comin¡¯ to you.¡± ¡°You know this how?¡± ¡°Because as I said, the flayers can be stopped ¡­ if you¡¯re far enough gone that the Eagle-Eyed One would turn Her gaze from you.¡± One look at Tregarde¡¯s sly smile, and she knew her night was not going to end as she wished. With a curt gesture she indicated he should continue. ¡°I¡¯m betting you know how the flayers can come here. We think they need to lure people to their world in order to come to ours. Correct?¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°But I bet it didn¡¯t occur to you how that method might be, shall we say, negated? And I¡¯ll tell you: in our realm, the only way to send the flayers back is to sever the spirit of those they carried off.¡± ¡°S¡ªsever? As in, remove someone¡¯s spirit from their body? While they still live? How would that work?¡± ¡°Makes your stomach drop all the way to the bottom of the Rift, doesn¡¯t it, over the thought of people walkin¡¯ about sans their spirits? The stuff of nightmares. Unfortunately, I hear tell that¡¯s how it can work. Can¡¯t say for sure. And if I were one of the Fellrath crew, with the flayers at my back, don¡¯t know that I¡¯d care.¡± Every instinct in her body screamed at her to tread carefully. The Brotherhood earned relentless enmity from her, but she always forced herself to remember they were people. Like any one else, they had thoughts and motivations and goals. Even though she didn¡¯t know their motives for seeking the power to harm dryads, that didn¡¯t mean they didn¡¯t have them. Nor did she deem it safe to assume the Brotherhood would commit random acts of mayhem; no shoving old people down the stairs on a whim. Which meant she couldn¡¯t pretend their attacks on dryads meant they would willingly destroy their own people. One thing she learned repeatedly was that she didn¡¯t see the world the same way other people did. Others prioritized their needs or ethics differently than she did, but that didn¡¯t mean they didn¡¯t have priorities at all. ¡°Let us suppose you are right,¡± Alia said carefully. ¡°And they were willing to do this abomination. How would they do it? Could I stop them?¡± Tregarde looked at his companions. As one they breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°That¡¯s the thing, huntress,¡± Sharma, the one who tested her said. He was cradling his side, unable to hide his injury from her. Even so he bowed to her, in respect and apology at once. ¡°To take a spirit is a blood spell. And not your average blood spell, either. To, ah, deprive someone of their spirit is a wickedness no matter how you look at it. It wrecks the Scales. You put a trouble on your own spirit that¡¯ll weigh heavy.¡± ¡°There¡¯s a price to pay,¡± Tregarde translated. ¡°Involving a corner of Erebossa reserved for people who do such things. If the Scales are already tipped the wrong way for you, then you¡¯re going to be some abyssal¡¯s special friend for a good long while after you die. So for this spell, you¡¯re going to want three kinds of people.¡± ¡°What is it with you sorcerers and your threes? Virgin, mother, crone. It¡¯s always threes with you people.¡± Tregarde snickered in spite of himself. ¡°One person is either a sorcerer or one of those shadow priests.¡± He paused to let her shudder. He went on, ¡°They have the power to do the spell. But you also want a young person¡ªdoesn¡¯t have to be a virgin¡ªbecause they have a lifetime to try and re-tip the Scales. Assuming they don¡¯t become dragon kibble before they grow old. Then again, I suppose an immortal might suit their purposes mighty fine. Anyhow, the final person must be Just with a capital letter. Maybe all caps even. Underlined in red three times. You understand? So almighty Just that the Scales are heavily tipped to the good neighborhoods in Erebossa before they even get started.¡± ¡°Do you have a suspect for two of the three? The young and the ¡°Just¡±? Where this spirit-cutting is supposed to happen?¡± ¡°Suspects? Not so much. As for where, we¡¯ll take you there. And when: true to how these things go, it¡¯ll take place at midnight,¡± Tregarde said. ¡°I gotta point out that spirit-cuttin¡¯ is not something you can be compelled to do by a sorcerer¡¯s blood magic. Understand? To rip out someone¡¯s spirit you have to be sincere.¡± What just person would sincerely utter such a spell? Alia¡¯s insides froze when the answer came to her: someone under a different kind of compulsion. ¡°They have a hostage, don¡¯t they?¡± Someone threatened with the deaths of their own family or innocent people might even rationalize that kidnapped sorcerers were being tortured by the flayers, and killing the sorcerers by taking their spirits would be a mercy killing. Deep down they¡¯d want to believe they were doing the right thing. Her eyes darkened as she considered that the hostage might otherwise believe the brotherhood sorcerers deserved to lose their spirits. They might innocently assume that the sorcerers would die immediately, but again, they would probably not inquire too closely. Goose flesh broke out on her arms. Perhaps, perhaps the spell would not work. Just could not include ripping another man¡¯s spirit from his body. She would rather die before committing such an act; either the hostage was the worst kind of coward, or the Brotherhood was wrong about how just he was. Either way, she must intervene. She opened her eyes and faced them head on. ¡°Where will this happen?¡± Chapter 5: The Ritual Chapter V The Ritual In which Erebossi must be balked ¡°I don¡¯t like this,¡± Alia said. She soothed her gryphon, smoothing out its ruffled feathers. ¡°Agreed,¡± Sheridan said, eying Tregarde with open suspicion. They were once again in the Peach Blossom Estates neighborhood, but this time in the park. Alia knew sorcerers were highly selective about where they sited their homes. They said they preferred areas ¡®where the magic runs deep.¡¯ In such places, one did not have to be a sorcerer or a priest or a seer to feel the power in the air. It permeated everything, and in quiet moments some people claimed they heard whispers. Whispers, Alia was told, of spirits uttering spells and knowledge in the ears of those attuned to hear them. Sorcerers with means made a point to live in such places. Sorcerers without means made do with what scraps they could find throughout the city. Not surprisingly, sorcerers in the property trade were amongst the richest, most well-connected people in the city. The Peach Blossom Estates came with the important perk of having an abundance of plants, herbs, flowers, and other flora suitable for spells and rituals. Some parts of the park were cultivated, others were left wild according to which condition was more favorable for the use of the plants growing in them. Alia¡¯s vantage point was the bell tower at the center of the park. The bell tower was attuned to celestial phenomena, with different chimes according to when the wandering stars in the Seeker¡¯s Alliance were aligned with each other, or the sun, or the moon. A special ting ting ting rang out when a solar eclipse ensued. From Alia¡¯s perspective the clearing was visible beyond a circle of trees. Were she on the ground nothing within the circle would have been visible to her. Tregarde insisted the circle would be irresistible to Fellrath¡¯s brotherhood; too well would it serve their plans. As for Tregarde he appeared tense, expectant as he waited in silence with his arms folded. Back at the Watch he and the other three sorcerers outlined their plan to Alia, but they hadn¡¯t entirely sold her on it: wait for the shadow priest to begin the spell before springing into action. The plan made sense, in a way¡ªthe sorcerers could deny any wrongdoing they might do, but they couldn¡¯t deny any act she saw them actually committing. But all the same, she would rather have grabbed the other three involved in this spell without openly dealing with the priest. Shadow priests were not illegal, per se. They bore raw power, and may have been schooled in the ways of the Huntress, the Sea Lord, the Reaper, or the Restorer, but they refused to hold allegiance to them. Thus they closed themselves off to the higher powers of the gods. Instead, they dealt strictly with spirits. Or abyssals. Most especially abyssals. Devoted as she was to the Huntress, Alia held no fear of shadow priests. However the shadow priests believed themselves to be persecuted, and Alia being a member of the Watch made her useful to them for propaganda purposes. See? Even when we¡¯re just minding our own business the Watch comes after us. The Watch won¡¯t leave us alone. While Alia readily acknowledged the shadow priests were universally reviled, she felt little sympathy for them. Refusing to police their own was their own choice, freely made, and too often shadow sorcerers committed nefarious acts¡ªand nothing was worse than soul cutting. Then again, the last thing she needed was for all of Ebon Cove to begin a rampage against suspected shadow priests or acolytes. Where once the circle stood empty, suddenly it became a hive of activity. Seven men clustered below. Immediately, Alia pulled a cone of glass from her saddlebag, followed by a five by five inch mirror. The cone was pale gold, an indication it had fully absorbed the light of Sorcha the Everbright. Alia set the cone in a tiny metal stand, then placed the stand on the ledge, with the pointy end of the cone facing the clearing. Then she held up the mirror in front of the broad, flat end of the cone. The clearing and its inhabitants came to life vividly in the mirror, showing Alia four men she recognized. First amongst them was Rav, Fellrath¡¯s second-in-command; then Clawfoot, Fellrath¡¯s confidant, and two of their captains. ¡°Ah,¡± said Tregarde. ¡°You have one of them Ellura scrying mirrors. Handy.¡± Along with Sheridan, he and their other companions clustered around Alia, all the better to look through her scrying mirror. As for Alia, she made no reply, for she focused all of her attention on three people she didn¡¯t recognize. One, a youth, and the other was a man of middle age who kept looking around as if searching for escape routes. The final man was beyond any chance of recognition, for he alone wore a plain-featured mask of orichalcum. Narrow ovals formed the eyeholes, and a slit sufficed for the mouth. His dark robes shimmered blue in the moonlight. While she stared at the scrying mirror, Sheridan held out her Ellura Aura Detector No. 8, attempting to capture the auras of those below in the clearing. Unfortunately, Sheridan reported, the Ellura did not work at this range. He even leaned out of the tower as far as he could and extended his arm to maximum distance, and still no luck. If the priest escaped, he had only to shed his robe and his mask and Alia would never know who he was. She looked up to see Tregarde watching her. He seemed to be reading her thoughts, for he said, ¡°No one will escape, I promise you.¡± ¡°Shh,¡± Sharma warned. He remained mounted on his gryphon, prepared to pounce. Glancing at Alia he said, ¡°When that masked bastard raises his hands, that¡¯s when we move. Ready yourself.¡± Ready herself she did, collecting her scrying gear and mounting her gryphon as quickly as the other three sorcerers mounted theirs. The sorcerers brought out their knives, unsheathing them and letting their cutting edges rest against their palms. She shuddered and averted her gaze, concentrating instead on the goings-on in the clearing below. From her gryphon she resumed looking through the scrying set. The brotherhood had now formed a circle around the youth, the man, and the priest. No escape was possible now for the man and the boy ¡­ assuming they wished to escape. The priest started speaking, and the man and the boy stared intently at him. Light glinted from the boy¡¯s hands, confirming they were indeed armed for a blood spell. Quickly, Alia put away the scrying set and prepared to take flight. ¡°It¡¯s begun,¡± Tregarde said. He grabbed the reins of Alia¡¯s gryphon, as though to hold her back. Sheridan looked to Alia and she nodded her assent. The boy¡¯s upbringing was similar to hers in that he possessed the self-discipline to only take her orders, unless she gave him leave to do otherwise. Whatever Tregarde and the others said, he would only follow her. The shadow priest¡¯s arms shot skyward. ¡°Now!¡± the sorcerers shouted as one. Alia reflexively dug her heels into her gryphon¡¯s flanks, a silent command to take off. The beast remained silent, restrained by the muzzle over its beak so as not to destroy the element of surprise. She flew in the central position, and the sorcerers fanned out around her. In the sky over the circle her sorcerer allies cut their palms and shouted a spell. Below, the inhabitants of the circle froze. Their knives fell to the grass, and their arms fell limply at their sides. Alia swooped into the center, directly in front of the shadow priest. She pointed her moonbow knife at him. ¡°I am Watch-Huntress Alia Ironwing. You are under arrest. Remove your mask.¡± The shadow priest wordlessly obeyed, revealing a face almost as nondescript as the mask formerly concealing it. His brown eyes stared glassily at nothing. Coupled with his slack jaws, his countenance assured her he was firmly in the power of the compulsion spell. Chancing a look back confirmed Sheridan floated directly behind her, at an angle allowing him to point his long knives at the man and the boy. The sorcerers covered the brotherhood. Still, she felt an uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. ¡°Are there more of you?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± the priest said dully. A quick visual survey revealed no one, nor did her ears pick up on any telltale sounds of people fleeing. But the man was a shadow priest ¡­ green light flared from her amulet. ¡°On guard,¡± she cried, and tugged at her gryphon¡¯s reigns, taking flight once again. Sheridan and the sorcerers followed suit. They were barely in time. Misty shapes floated into view, from just beyond the trees. The mist moved as though powered by a mighty wind, enveloping the brotherhood and the ritualists all at once. Shapes began to coalesce. ¡°Stop them¡ª¡± she cut herself off when she realized the sorcerers were already in the midst of a spell. Something emerged from the mist. Smoke, slithering close to the ground until abruptly it rose up. And up. Above the trees it rose. Now it took on the shape of a man, and extended an arm-like appendage toward Misra. The sorcerer¡¯s gryphon reared up and retreated out of reach of the smoke-thing. The smoke-thing made one last swipe, then shrank back into itself on the ground. Alia was so focused on Misra that she missed a second smoke-thing reaching for her. Fortunately her gryphon noticed, and ascended rapidly as Sheridan¡¯s warning rang out. She looked down, and gasped out a command, repeating it in rapid-fire succession until she was out of reach of the smoke-thing. Or rather, what she hoped was out of reach. ¡°What are those things?¡± she demanded. ¡°Get back! Infernals! Get back.¡± Tregarde flew further up, drawing level with the the summit of the bell tower. The hair stood up on the back of Alia¡¯s neck. She didn¡¯t need to be told a third time. The group clustered their mounts together, so they could speak without shouting. ¡°What do we do?¡± Sheridan demanded. ¡°Why are Erebossi here?¡± ¡°They were invited,¡± Tregarde said. ¡°I¡¯ll wager they¡¯re needed to intercept the souls and make sure the spell takes. Maybe they¡¯d even claim the priest and the other two.¡± Alia¡¯s nostrils flared. Infernal spirits so near the Radiant Gate? Had the powers of Rikka, her mother, and the other dryads failed so badly? In living memory no Erebossi had never been summoned to Ebon Cove. The dryads made certain the endeavor was impossible. Was this why the Brotherhood sought to weaken them? To violate the Edict of Qir?? By the Huntress! What other terrors will be unleashed? ¡°Send the abyssals back to the Serpent,¡± Alia ordered. ¡°We can¡¯t let the sorcerers finish their ritual.¡± The sorcerers were shaking their heads. From the ground, a scream went up. Alia craned her neck, trying to peer through the smoke. ¡°No,¡± said Sharma. ¡°You don¡¯t understand. When we did our spell we must have interfered with the priest¡¯s hold on the abyssal. They were under his control. Now they¡¯re after him and everyone in that clearing. They¡¯re lost.¡± ¡°Then banish them. Now!¡± If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°We can¡¯t separate them,¡± Tregarde replied. ¡°We either contain them all or contain none. Only when the people are dead can we do anything. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Alia clenched her jaw, annoyed at her own foolishness. Of course the sorcerers didn¡¯t know what to do. But she was no sorceress. At her command her gryphon plunged down, aiming for the spot where she last saw the boy. She held her arms out, her knives gripped tightly in both hands. ¡°By the Huntress I command you to flee!¡± she screamed, swooping into the infernal smoke. The sigils etched into her knives flared white, as did her amulet. Celestial light blinded the others, forcing them to avert their eyes. The abyssal spirits fled, retreating to the edges of the clearing. The ritualists and Fellrath¡¯s officers lay trembling on the ground. ¡°Now,¡± Alia ordered. The sorcerers reacted. Silvery globes soon enveloped the abyssals, trapping them. Alia glared at the men. Rav as usual looked smart in his silk tunic and trousers, embroidered with gold threads and fancy beadwork. Meanwhile, Clawfoot leaned into his bestial byname, sporting a cape fastened at his shoulders with the shrunken heads of two rakshasas. Allegedly, the shape-shifting monsters were once sent to kill him by one of his vengeful victims, but so great was Clawfoot¡¯s prowess that he bested them. As for the ritualists, the middle-aged one sobbed uncontrollably. In shame? Or terror? She focused on the boy for a moment. Peach fuzz covered his face, along with pimples. Young. Trembling hands filled his mouth as he sucked on his fingers, and he rocked back and forth on his haunches. If she were to guess, terror and the breaking of the compulsion spell afflicted him. The compulsion spell worried her. From what she understood, the worst thing one could do to someone in the power of a compulsion spell was to inflict trauma on them. Effects varied; some people were knocked into endless sleep, and might not be revived for many months. Others went insane, usually temporarily. But in certain circumstances the victim¡¯s mind was broken forever. Gryphon¡¯s Rock¡ªthe temple of the Huntress¡ªwould safeguard the boy, she decided. Neither the brotherhood nor their shadow priests would dare set foot there. In the meantime, the priests would see to the boy. If all went well, he would be forever free of whatever elements of his life led him to be in the soul-cutting circle. Alia addressed herself to Rav and Clawfoot. ¡°Two choices: come with me, and tell me everything I want to know¡ªor I will let your shadow masters take you. Decide. And be quick about it.¡± Extreme emotions might break compulsion spells, and the men were behaving much like the boy, trembling and mumbling to themselves. No one under a compulsion spell could react to emotional stimuli. The shadow priest lifted his head. He was not traumatized. If anything, he appeared defiant. ¡°Don¡¯t listen to this ignorant wench,¡± he cried out. ¡°She falsely claims a place of virtue¡ª¡± Immediately Alia pointed one of her knives at him. The sigils of the Huntress flared again, but Alia¡¯s voice was icy in its quiet. ¡°By the Huntress I will have your silence, abominable one. One more word from you¡ªjust one syllable¡ªand I will send you to the Exalted Eagle. Call Her a liar to Her face if you dare.¡± It occurred to Alia that just as others would fear the bowels of the Abyssal Serpent, the spirit-cutting shadow priest would dread the abode of the Huntress. Thus, she saw no point in threatening to send him to the Abyssal Serpent. The priest¡¯s jaw snapped shut. Alia did not hide her sneer of contempt. In his place she would not have imagined backing down. Did he not believe what he claimed? Now for the others. She sheathed the knife she held in her left hand, but only to draw her Dragon Pearl IV. Hammer pulled back, she aimed for Clawfoot, who cowered to her left. None of these men were worthy of her knives. ¡°I will not repeat myself.¡± And she fired. Clawfoot screamed, clutching his right shoulder. A rakshasa fang fell to the grass at his feet, blown off his shoulder by Alia¡¯s bullet. No blood flowed from between Clawfoot¡¯s fingers, proof enough she had not shot the man himself. Yet he screamed all the same. Frantic, his eyes swiveled to rest on the Erebossi contained¡ªbut only for a moment¡ªin the shields the sorcerers had put up. Panic, terror, were written all over his face. Undoubtedly he was thinking of the implications of dying in the presence of infernal agents. After all, he was their rightful prey ¡­ A cacophony assaulted her ears as the men babbled their response. Alia smiled grimly, and glanced up at last to see Sheridan and the sorcerers staring down at her, awestruck. Victory.
Victory only gave her more questions. Clawfoot, Rav, and the captains filled in several important holes in her knowledge, but soon enough it became clear to Alia they didn¡¯t know the answers to two key questions: Where were the dryads taken? And to whom were they given? ¡°So they wanted power?¡± Sheridan asked, scorn and disbelief ringing in his voice. He hung back, eying the moat with distaste. They had returned to Junius Fellrath¡¯s house; Alia needed to search for herself for a thread to follow to find her aunts. Based on what the men had told her she had a good idea of what to search for; something the Watch might have missed on their first search of the home. Alia entered first, followed by Serafina. The door was still propped open; the wards were no longer an issue. The Watchmen stationed at the end of the bridge proved sufficiently sharp eyed, and saluted Alia snappily enough that she didn¡¯t doubt they were taking their task seriously. No one was to enter Junius¡¯s home, save for anyone directly authorized by Alia or Strategos Palamara. Serafina glanced back at Sheridan, who was hanging back, and audibly sniffed. ¡°No flayers here, my dear. Come along now.¡± ¡°So they keep their word,¡± he grumbled, and finally started forward. ¡°They gave their word to the Keeper. They had better honor it,¡± Alia said. She was studying the floor plan Constable Tau had helpfully made for her. After a moment she started for the library. ¡°As for your observation, Sheridan,¡± Serafina began. ¡°I wonder. About that power.¡± Alia stopped to look back at her. The senior officers of the Brotherhood insisted the point of capturing dryads was that the dryads fueled unimaginably powerful spells. Powerful enough for the sorcerers to avoid incurring debts to Erebossi, or having to petition the gods or spirits. The power was intoxicating. No longer would they need an army of sorcerers to make an earthquake, one sorcerer could generate one. Raising the dead even on the winter solstice? Child¡¯s play. The laws of the gods yielded before the sorcerers, who possessed no scruple in bending and breaking them. ¡°Nothing limits them, except the limits they deign to impose on themselves,¡± Alia said, modifying a quote from the Edict of Qir?. ¡°Exactly,¡± Serafina said. ¡°And I don¡¯t like it. But¡ªdon¡¯t get caught up in that part. It¡¯s terrifying enough, but there¡¯s more. So much more.¡± The trio clustered back together. Serafina began to whisper, as if she wanted no one to hear them, not even the spirits. For all of her trepidation, Alia was a little relieved her instincts served her well. With every fiber of her being she knew Rav and Clawfoot were lying: power was not an end in itself. Or that it was truly without cost. Serafina was looking at her. ¡°You sense the wrongness of this, too, don¡¯t you?¡± She glanced at Sheridan, who nodded his confirmation. ¡°What Rav and Clawfoot are saying? Stone cold lie. None of this is as simple as they claim, and either they are fools¡ªor they¡¯re playing us for fools. To even begin to weaken the groves, and the dryads, takes a tremendous amount of power. You were right to keep asking them who was taking the dryads Junius captured. And if I were you, I would be very afraid to face whatever it is.¡± ¡°The shadow priests?¡± Sheridan asked. Serafina¡¯s dismissive wave of her hand nicely accompanied her sneer. ¡°Fools, the lot of them. Children. Forget those lackeys, which they can be nothing but.¡± ¡°Lackeys of the Erebossi?¡± Alia asked. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. An abyssal would have no qualms about harming the daughters of the Huntress. And Erebossi stood to gain so much from taking down the guardians of the Shadow Gates. Moreso than any sorcerer might. Sheridan started to protest, but Alia held up her hand, quelling him. She regarded Serafina steadily, the expression on Serafina¡¯s face assuring her that terror was the sensible emotion to feel right now. ¡°The Erebossi are the ones you refer to, yes?¡± Alia continued. ¡°Nothing else fits. Do either of you understand the significance of the ceremony last night? Abyssals were summoned here. Impossible! Impossible¡ªbecause the Keeper and her grove reign here, and where a dryad reigns an abyssal must fear to tread.¡± Alia beckoned for them to follow her to the library. Once she ushered them inside she shut the door tightly behind herself. Sheridan was staring at her in wonder. Alia didn¡¯t blame him, for what she was about to tell them was not something even the most devoted of venatori knew. Tregarde and his companions proved as much last tonight. ¡°When I first came to Ebon Cove,¡± Alia began, ¡°Palamara told me the sorcerers here were more well-behaved than in other places. Everyone seemed to marvel about this. Some spoke of other cities they lived in, where sorcerers summoned infernal spirits and monstrous arsha¡¯t?m to destroy their enemies. But such never happens here. And people thought this was because the sorcerers of Ebon Cove are more¡±¡ªshe paused and smiled sardonically¡ª¡°civilized. And I agree. They are. But their good behavior is not chosen, not of their free will. Virtue is a condition imposed upon them due solely to living within the jurisdiction of my grove.¡± Sheridan glanced at Serafina, saw her nodding in agreement, and frowned. Serafina gently said, ¡°The flayer called the dryads gate guardians. Did you catch that, Sheridan? And Alia repeatedly refers to Rikka, the dryad elder not as an elder, not as a queen, but as a keeper. Did you notice that?¡± ¡°I did,¡± Sheridan said at last. ¡°Isn¡¯t she keeping a grove? Unless they have a portal?¡± The answer was on the tip of Alia¡¯s tongue, but she held it. Rikka had not given her leave to reveal the Radiant Gate. Not yet. But Sheridan was close enough for her to skirt the boundaries of her oath without leaving him in the dark. ¡°You can look at it that way. The fact is, the dryads are not keepers of groves,¡± she said. ¡°Groves are simply where they live. The true task of a dryad is to safeguard this world from incursions from Erebossa. Among other things. Dryads are guardians not simply of Gates but of the world itself, and they permit no trespassers. The flayers in this latest incident are an exceptional case; this is the first time they¡¯ve ever been invited here. I now believe the reason they ever appeared here in the past had something to do with the sorcerers they attacked in those instances. Somehow, the sorcerers may have brought the attacks upon themselves. Whether wittingly or not, I cannot guess.¡± Sheridan gaped at her. After a moment he began to pace about the room, without appearing to see what he was seeing. Lost in his own thoughts, which Alia and Serafina were content to allow him. After a while Sheridan asked, ¡°Did you know this, Serafina? Is this something everyone learns eventually?¡± ¡°No,¡± Alia answered, before Serafina could. ¡°Everyone does not learn this eventually. This is not something dryads share with outsiders. Dryad business is not our business. We are to study the Edict of Qir? and obey, and for my mother and the other dryads we need not know or do anything more.¡± ¡°Because a servant does not need to know why, a servant must only be given enough information to obey?¡± Sheridan demanded, without heat in his voice. Alia narrowed her eyes at him. ¡°That is more stark than is warranted, I think. But the fact is, we do not share the purpose or the responsibilities of the dryads. The dryads are servants, not us. Did I not say there is knowledge that confers a burden on the one who knows it? If the dryads are to guard against trespassers, then it is fair enough that the Edict tell people not to summon into this world the very beings the keepers are trying to protect us from. Minding the Edict is not dependent on knowing the affairs of the keepers.¡± Sheridan¡¯s eyes dropped. ¡°Fair enough.¡± ¡°As for me, I did know the dryads are guardians,¡± Serafina said. ¡°For one particular reason I gather is lost now to mortals.¡± Both Sheridan and Alia stared at her in surprise; Serafina rarely contrasted their lifespans. In most cases doing so would be rude. ¡°Lost how?¡± Sheridan asked. Serafina shrugged, and pointed at the leatherbound codices lining the shelves in Junius¡¯s library. Burled camphorwood shelves were built into the walls. Five shelves started down from the ceiling, and below the fifth on the left wall were cabinets, and on the right wall were map chests. ¡°Losing knowledge is easy enough when you don¡¯t write things down. Or when the things you have written are burned or decay or are lost, and information is not conveyed to one generation after the next. It just happens,¡± Serafina said. ¡°Nevertheless, I suppose this is not something humans wrote about because humans would not have known the whole story behind the War of Fire, Rain, and Thunder. Or as some call it, the Dryad-Salamandra Wars.¡± Their gazes fastened upon her, rapt, and Serafina smiled. Alia nodded, considering Serafina¡¯s flare for the dramatic. If things had gone differently in Serafina¡¯s life Alia suspected she might have remained an actress. ¡°What was the reason for the war? Did you burn the groves? Why?¡± Sheridan asked. ¡°In those days, we did not worship the Huntress,¡± Serafina said, and a key clicked into place in Alia¡¯s mind. Now she understood the exchange between Rikka and Serafina. Serafina continued, ¡°Burning the groves wasn¡¯t the first step, though we did start the war. Hmm¡ªwas it only four thousand years ago? The war started the moment we arrived here. Uninvited. Of course the dryads took offense; our arrival in such large numbers would naturally be considered an invasion. In fact, it was an invasion. But our intent was not to conquer. There are consequences for poorly choosing one¡¯s leaders, and the war was the price we Salamandra paid for our choices.¡± ¡°What?¡± Sheridan¡¯s jaw nearly touched his chest. Serafina playfully lifted it for him. Sheridan shuddered and stepped back. After a minute, his voice returned enough for him to ask, ¡°You¡¯re not from this world? You¡¯re invaders?¡± ¡°Refugees, really,¡± Serafina amended. ¡°Ancient history not entirely relevant. Suffice it to say we are not natives of this world. We are not from Erebossa,¡± she added hastily, seeing the question in his eyes. ¡°Nor are the flayers, for that matter. There was a time when my people shared a world with the flayers, but those times are past. And I believe Alia is correct. Something of an infernal nature is at work in what¡¯s happening with the dryads. Our trail will lead us to Erebossa. Count on it.¡± Chapter 6: Letter of Marque Chapter VI Letter of Marque In which the trail begins A tension settled over the room. They searched quietly, but their calm pushed against a thin veneer. In silence they fanned out, Sheridan taking the bookcases lining the left wall, and Serafina took the cases along the right wall. Alia took the central wall directly across from Junius¡¯s desk, which was in the middle of the room. In the center of the center shelf, just above eye level, she saw it. A tall cylinder, fashioned of obsidian, emitted a faint blue glow. Twelve hexagonal rings stacked top to bottom made up the cylinder. Each side of the hexagon featured a glyph subtly carved into it. Undoubtedly this was a puzzle cylinder, designed to keep something stored inside. A fashion amongst sorcerers, and those non-sorcerers with the means to hire artificers to construct them. And true to form, the cylinder included a deterrent to thieves: a grotesque figure of an eyeless, razor-fanged creature capped the device. Spikes covered the creature¡¯s hide, starting with a pronounced sagittal crest all the way to its tail, which terminated in one enormous flail. Alia shuddered. In doing so she jerked up her Ellura. Shrieeeeeek! The Ellura screamed insistently, and Alia jumped back. Startled, she dropped the wand. It rolled away, stopping only when it hit the cabinet below the fifth shelf. Serafina and Sheridan rushed over. ¡°What happened?¡± Sheridan¡¯s brow furrowed as he stared down at Alia¡¯s wand. Alia pointed to the cylinder. Serafina recoiled. ¡°Ugh, that looks like a flayer¡¯s pet. If flayers were the type to have pets, I mean.¡± Casual yet determined, Alia forced herself to look away from the device, and focused on Serafina instead. ¡°You weren¡¯t surprised the flayers were sapient. Yet they still eat people. Why is that?¡± You don¡¯t fear what you understand. Right? Supposedly. But Alia found sometimes that the more she understood something, the more she feared it. ¡°Cannibals eat people, yes?¡± Serafina asked. ¡°From what the lorekeepers of my people say, the flayers believe if you¡¯re not one of their own, you¡¯re prey. If they can kill you, and you wield no power over them, then you¡¯re dinner. The dryads have power over them and are nigh unkillable, at least for a flayer. But those of us born to men and women¡ªyour kind and mine¡ªare easy enough prey, and we wield no particular power over flayers. So, not worthy of personhood in their minds.¡± A horrifying insight, suggesting she might require a show of overwhelming power before attempting to negotiate with flayers. Hopefully, she need never deal with them again after this current situation. Lights of every color insistently flashed on Alia¡¯s Ellura, prompting her to retrieve it. Flashing multicolor lights indicated the wand was locked on to a spell, specifically the one sheathing the cylinder. ¡°A summoning spell,¡± Sheridan observed, looking over her shoulder as the light turned copper. The copper glow bounced off the black glass of the cylinder, as though reflecting fire. ¡°You want to guess that if you don¡¯t have the right spell sequence, that thing is going to appear?¡± Alia glared up at the obsidian device. Of the glyphs visible from her vantage point, she recognized at least half of them. ¡°The top ring has the golden eagle, a drakaina, and a gryphon on this side facing us. So, the sun zodiac with the sign of the Huntress, the shadow zodiac with the she-dragon, and one of the paradox beasts,¡± Sheridan noted. ¡°From this side the bottom ring has the Hound¡ªthe last sign in the zodiac, and the signs before it and after it, the moly flower and the shadow wolf. Since the rings have six sides and two of them have zodiac signs, I wonder if this is related somehow to an oraculum?¡± ¡°Oraculum?¡± ¡°Remember I said I knew people from Rasena Valentis?¡± he began. When she nodded he continued, ¡°In their house they have this room called an ¡®oraculum.¡¯ The room is like a giant walk-in call-globe, except they needed two huge machines. Also the room has six walls, and the zodiac is carved above the walls, along the ceiling.¡± ¡°And did they use this thing to communicate?¡± Alia indicated the hexagon cylinder. ¡°No. An oraculum works by directing sun or moonbeams onto the zodiac, but you need two signs I think, and you use two machines to direct the beams. When the beams converge a third beam is created, and hits either a mirror or a globe, which are stationed along the walls. Or, sometimes the light hits the scrying pool in the middle of the room.¡± ¡°And this hexagon-thing came from Rasena Valentis?¡± ¡°The oraculum did. I don¡¯t know about this blasted thing.¡± ¡°Any guesses as to what¡¯s inside this?¡± Serafina jerked her thumb at the cipher. ¡°Awfully cocky of Junius to leave it in plain sight.¡± ¡°Would anyone dare to touch a strange artifact in a sorcerer¡¯s house? Without his leave in particular?¡± Alia stared at the Ellura¡¯s indicator again. Unfortunately, she couldn¡¯t use its spell-breaking abilities to open the cylinder; the lock was not magical. Furthermore, the spell would only activate when someone input the wrong sequence. She would have to make a dangerous mistake before the Ellura could negate the spell. If her reflexes were fast enough to initiate the Ellura before the monster appeared. Would bullets stop the monster? Or was this one of those beasts requiring special weapons to kill? Vile as Junius was, he would not have been above selecting a guardian killable only by a gryphon¡¯s tooth dipped in the blood of a naiad. ¡°Let¡¯s see what the cipher sages at the station make of this device,¡± Alia suggested. ¡°If they don¡¯t know how this works, they may put us in touch with the artificers who specialize in making these. I¡¯m not going to risk bringing a monster into this world that I can¡¯t kill.¡± If you can¡¯t take responsibility for your problems, don¡¯t cause them. A lesson she learned early in life; Samara did not tend to rescue Alia from troubles of her own making. Sheridan and Serafina nodded their agreement with this decree. Serafina, being the tallest, reached for the cylinder. Her fingertips barely brushed the cold glass when a blinding light flashed. Both Alia and Sheridan instantly covered their eyes. However, once the light vanished they found Serafina flat on the floor. Her eyes were wide, unseeing. ¡°Serafina!¡± Alia dropped to her knees beside her. Steeling herself, she pressed two fingertips against Serafina¡¯s neck. The slight rhythm throbbing against her skin cheered her, but failed to make her own pulse stop racing. ¡°Ironwing!¡± Sheridan shouted. Alia looked over to where he was pointing. Her heart leapt into her throat. A nimbus of blue light radiated above Junius¡¯s desk, exactly across from the hexagon device. Small as a fist, the nimbus nevertheless served as warning to the spell¡¯s intentions. Slowly she rose to her feet. ¡°Everything you know. Now.¡± Sheridan protested, ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we get out of here?¡± He was already bending down to scoop up Serafina. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. ¡°The door, Sheridan.¡± Now he saw it. The door they came through was gone. As were the windows. Smooth stones covered the places either egress had been. Sheridan swore softly. He carried Serafina over to one of the two guest chairs in front of Junius¡¯s desk. Alia strode over to Junius¡¯s desk and gripped his chair, hauling it over to the bookcase. The chair became her step-stool. Now she could see three of the cylinder¡¯s sides. Right away Alia concluded the cylinder wasn¡¯t exactly analogous to the call globe, or the oraculum Sheridan spoke of. Twelve rows was too few by seven for the convergence cycle, and too many by six for the Seeker¡¯s Alliance. Alia tamped down firmly on the panic rising in her chest. Inhale, exhale. Long inhale, long exhale. Once more, and a cold calm settled over her. Here her diligence must pay off, for she knew the most minute details about Junius. Everything from the name of his gardener¡¯s dog, to which flowers he gave to one mistress versus the jewels he gave another mistress, depending on his transgressions. The cylinder would not defeat her, she vowed to herself. ¡°Sheridan, fetch me the mirror on the desk over there, please.¡± A concave mirror made up part of a display on Fellrath¡¯s desk. The mirror¡¯s position suggested Junius had used it to detect anyone coming at him from the window behind his desk. Sensibly enough, in addition to the mirror Sheridan grabbed the last chair and dragged it over before stepping onto it to stand opposite Alia. He positioned the mirror, allowing her to see the other sides of the cylinder. At last she had enough information to get an idea of the lock. Each hexagon ring in the cylinder was independent, not related to the next ring. So, the rings may be turned in a specific order. But did she need to start at the top, middle, or bottom? She considered. On the cursed day when Junius was born the sun was in the Hound, the last sign in the zodiac.Each ¡°Tell me what you see,¡± Alia said. Sheridan¡¯s reply confirmed her hunch: the glyphs in the rings of the cylinder focused on the zodiac, the shadow zodiac, legendary beasts, the shadow bestiary, sacred and magical plants, and plants particular to Erebossa. Light and dark, light and dark, light and dark. That which was native to the world, and those found within Erebossa. The signs through which the sun passed, and the signs through which the moon sojourned in the heavens. The sun, which held back the darkness. And the moon, which shone in the darkness. In a cipher, where would Junius begin? Likely with himself, Alia decided. Such a self-centered man would start with himself. But would he start with an accident of birth¡ªthe Hound¡ªor with a symbol representing a creed he deliberately chose? She considered the parts of the bestiary visible to her, given the rings¡¯ current arrangement. Though out of sequence, their pattern was unmistakable. The ring bearing the manticore was stacked directly above the ring bearing the Hound. Junius signed his letters with a manticore sigil. Of course. Such a man as Junius would represent himself as a creature notorious for its penchant for devouring people. Every part of that beast was destructive, from its regenerative lion claws, to its arrow-shooting tail. The human head atop the lion body housed a malevolent intellect¡ªa fitting description of Junius¡¯s own head. Now Alia considered the other top men in Junius¡¯s brotherhood, and she smiled. She mentally calculated the possible arrangements, then made her move. The bottom row locked into place as soon as she positioned the manticore above the Hound. Above the manticore Alia selected the glyph of the dragonblood trees. From the shadow class of plants, the resin of those trees yielded an unguent which staunched wounds, and in certain cases, suspended death. Ironic, for Rav famously dispatched his enemies via copious cuts from his poisoned knives. Because a cut from his blades always preceded death, Alia knew the Bone Devourer must follow ¡ªthe sign of the lammergeier vulture within the shadow zodiac, through which the moon passed in the penultimate month, when Rav was born. If Clawfoot was next¡ªand why should he not be, as third in command? ¡ª then the Hart constellation marking his birth came next. And above the Hart, the leukrokotta. The arsha¡¯t?m was a monstrous stag with a lion¡¯s neck, badger¡¯s head and a powerful bone in place of teeth. It lured its prey by imitating the voices of people, often the voices of previous victims, especially if those voices were known to its current prey. Aunt Xylia used the leukrokotta in bedtime stories featuring careless little girls who ran heedlessly towards strange voices crying for help. Not everyone who appears to be a victim is harmless, she wanted Alia to know. Mind that you don¡¯t fall into any rescue snares. And Clawfoot was a procurer of captives, was he not? Mortal young women or boys he delivered into the hands of depraved captors. Alia went through the remaining list, accounting for Gavin and the two captains, Reza and Zotikos. With a loud chime the nimbus vanished, and the cylinder split open. Immediately Alia glanced about the room, confirming that the strange razorback would not grace them with its presence. Safe. She allowed herself a small smile of triumph, but only a small smile. After all, the cipher cylinder presented no challenge to her, for Junius apparently assumed no one would know the finer details about him and his inner circle. Inside the cylinder she found a small bottle, with a piece of parchment tied to its neck. Alia seized the bottle and parchment. ¡°The doors are back,¡± Sheridan observed. He jumped down from his chair before turning back to help Alia down from hers. ¡°Attend to Serafina,¡± she replied as she stepped down. ¡°Junius was wicked enough that he may have put a stinger in the tail of this trap. This parchment looks like a spell.¡± The ink on the parchment looked and smelled like sorcerer¡¯s ink: bone ash, cinnabar, and myrrh. Such ink was reserved for magical purposes. But it was the content of the message that stopped her short. In the Name of the Queen of the Namtaru, you are authorized to gather as you will the Children of Thuraia. The Children will stand against none who bear this nectar in their veins. When one of the Children is in hand, summon the lord of the Obsidian Stinger. The lord will take them thither, to the Eye That Sees All. A strange sigil of six claws arranged in a circle served as the letter¡¯s signature. A frisson of terror kindled inside Alia as she forced herself to re-read the letter. ¡°What did I miss?¡± Serafina asked, as Sheridan helped her to her feet. Alia read the letter aloud. ¡°The queen? The Namtaru? The lord? The Eye? The Children? What is this madness?¡± Sheridan wondered. ¡°This is a letter of marque,¡± Alia deduced. ¡°Issued by this so-called queen, against my mother and aunts. And perhaps others.¡± ¡°And the lord of the Obsidian Stinger?¡± Sheridan pursued. ¡°What could that possibly be?¡± ¡°That¡¯s how the Pelasgians refers to a ship¡¯s owner. Not necessarily the captain,¡± Alia said. Inspiration struck, and she hurried over to the cabinet in the wall to the right of Junius¡¯s desk. Learning from Serafina¡¯s experience meant she pointed to the model of the ship on display, instead of touching it. Sheridan and Serafina joined her. The replica was an exact likeness of a junk, one of hundreds of square-sail, bamboo-masted ships sailing in and out of the port of Ebon Cove at any given hour. The model used authentic sail cloth, and was finely wrought of polished teak, emitting a faint scent of the tung oil used as a sealant. Alia ran her wand over the model again, and was rewarded with a sharp ding. The crystal on her detector flashed orange, alerting her to an active concealment spell. ¡°The name is missing,¡± Alia said. Smiling slightly, she reached into the satchel at her hip and pulled out a small vial. Before returning to Junius, Alia had made another trip to the Counselor. By the prescience common to a khrestai of her rank, the Counselor had left the vial on her doorstep. Tied around its neck was a note written in an elegant script: Unveil unlawful secrets. The message made Alia smile; the Counselor would never aid her in uncovering that which the Counselor believed ought to be hidden. The khrestai were ever careful about their gifts, and the conditions by which they gave them. A dropper stoppered the vial, and just a drop was all Alia needed to tear away the spell. Light around the ship warped for a moment, and in the blink of an eye the ship¡¯s appearance suddenly shifted. Obsidian Stinger. Exultant, Alia cried, ¡°Ahh! So this is how they¡¯re doing it!¡± ¡°Doing what?¡± Sheridan asked. Serafina answered before Alia could. ¡°Any sorcerer worth his wand can create facsimiles of certain objects or creatures and manipulate them. What happens to the facsimile happens to the real thing. So if Jonas sets the ship model wherever he likes on a model map, he¡¯ll transport the real ship to the real place on the map.¡± Excited, Alia rushed over to a corner of the library. A fountain there escaped her notice before, as she assumed it was merely for scrying. Junius kept a scryer in his inner circle, after all. Opaque and reflective like a mirror, nothing below the surface of the water was visible. Which earned a once-over with the Ellura wand. Shimmering haze gave way to revelation: the water itself contained a scale model of a dragon¡¯s-eye view of the coasts and islands of the Gold Sea, from Lyrcania to the East to the Isle of Katabasis to the West. Heart pounding, Alia stared at the miniature ship. The Isle of Katabasis. Famous as the place where the Sea Lord departed from Thuraia. Was this where her aunts were taken? A place where the Sea Lord Himself once trod, a place sacred to Him, would hold power. Power that dark forces may have availed themselves of where the daughters of the Huntress were concerned. Sheridan came up beside her. He whistled at the ship¡¯s model. ¡°Oh. So Junius puts this toy boat near a replica of whatever port he wants them to go to, and the real ship is transported there instantaneously. My grandfather said a legendary sorcerer did things like that, ages ago in Athyr-ai. I never heard of sorcerers doing that in our time ¡­ but this might be the kind of power Rav and Clawfoot said they were getting from the dryads.¡± The Ellura did not reveal any further spells in relation to the ship. Alia took it and the cylinder, carefully placing them inside her satchel. She suspected the cylinder still had more to tell her, and she still wanted to have it assayed by a sorcerer or a priest. ¡°I think¡ª¡± ¡°HOW! DARE! YOU!¡± Chapter 7: The Magus Makes a Bargain Chapter VII The Magus Makes a Bargain In which a sorcerer both gives and asks for aid The bellow came from the entrance, prompting them to rush back into the great hall. Knives out already, Constables Shu and Gold were clearly on the verge of a compulsion spell. At the door¡¯s threshold a silver line glowed in stark relief on the white marble floors. A barrier, meant to prevent a large, belligerent man from entering. The man was smartly dressed in a blue linen duster with gleaming gold buttons. Up close the buttons proved to be his family¡¯s sigil, which Alia expected from experience. The Fellraths¡¯ prestige rested on their continued ability to control sea dragons, a rare feat amongst the Lyrcanians, New and Old alike. To boast of this, Brennus Fellrath¡¯s grandfather had started the tradition of using signet rings depicting a leashed sea dragon. Brennus Fellrath never wasted an opportunity to remind people of how his blood ran thick with what he called ¡®Old Powers.¡¯ His eyes blazed when he spotted Alia. He drew himself up to his full height, and put his fists on his hips. ¡°You,¡± he spat. Alia raised her chin and lowered her eyes at him, as though he were a brat whose tantrum she expected to end right now. In undisguised fury, Brennus immediately attempted to charge through the shield. Seconds later, he awakened to find Alia staring down at him. He snarled, cursing under his breath as he struggled back to his feet. With much fuss and pomp he straightened his clothes before meeting her eyes. Face red as a cooked crab, Brennus exhaled through clenched teeth. ¡°I should have known you would be at the bottom of this. I will have your shield for this.¡± Alia fingered her golden eagle medallion. ¡°Come and take it,¡± she said softly. Word around town is that Karis was Brennus Fellrath¡¯s mistress. A scrap of intelligence Serafina shared once, concerning the false priestess of the Huntress Alia so ruthlessly immolated. Brennus flinched, and eyed her warily. Good, he must now consider that whether she worked for the Watch or not she was still a servant of the Huntress, and would not be balked on those grounds. Taking advantage of his hesitation, Alia set her own agenda. ¡°These men are acting on my orders. You will not countermand them, or interfere with their job. As you see, the ward your son kept will not respond to you. Attempt to bypass my ward and your son¡¯s bridge won¡¯t hold next time. You can deal with whatever he saw fit to keep in that moat.¡± ¡°He was my son,¡± Brennus rasped. ¡°I have a right to be here. Don¡¯t think you can treat me like¡ª¡± ¡°Your feelings are not my priority,¡± Alia continued. ¡°Flayers take precedence. And you, as the father of Junius Fellrath, have a funeral to plan. I shall not detain you further from your duties.¡± ¡°Give me his body,¡± Brennus blurted. ¡°Please, I need to bury him. If¡ªif there¡¯s any¡ªanything left?¡± The waver in his voice made her hesitate. How proper would it be to tell the truth on that score? ¡°Displaying his remains would be ill-advised,¡± Alia said at last. Brennus buried his face in his hands. When he lifted his head he looked haggard, exhausted. ¡°Huntress Ironwing, please. I¡ªI will do as you ask. Whatever you want. Let me bury him.¡± ¡°Retrieve him from the morgue at your earliest convenience,¡± Alia relented. After all, she already took what she needed from his corpse. ¡°But this house remains off limits until I say otherwise. Understood?¡± With a curt nod, Brennus took himself off. Under Alia¡¯s gaze he mounted his fire drake and flew away. ¡°That was close,¡± Constable Shu said, exhaling his relief. ¡°Send word: Behrouz is to guard Junius Fellrath¡¯s aerie. No one is to come near this house without prior authorization,¡± Alia ordered. Behrouz, the Watch¡¯s fire dragon, was a fully mature male at least six hundred years old. The eldest dragon within reach of Ebon Cove, nothing less than an army would take him down. Especially as the dryads would never offer their assistance to Brennus. ¡°Right away,¡± Constable Gold agreed. He and Shu cheered, and Alia supposed they were glad to have a dragon backing them up against the likes of Brennus Fellrath. ¡°Sheridan, Serafina, to me. We have business to take care of,¡± Alia said.
¡°The Queen of the Namtaru, you say?¡± Rikka asked, holding her palms up to receive the parchment Alia deposited in her hands. Rikka smoothed the paper in her lap and sat taller in her throne as she read the letter for herself. Her throne bore all the colors of autumn¡ªwooden rivers of gold and green and auburn, and was capped with a carved chrysanthemum at the head. The throne lay deep in the keeper¡¯s bower, in a room shaped like an acorn. On occasion Rikka held court in the throne room, receiving all of the dryads and their familiars. Alia studied the keeper¡¯s bower, a place she was rarely invited as a child. The last time she stood before the throne was the night before she set out to leave the Ebon Grove for the first time in her life. On that night, Rikka presented her with moonbow blades and anointed Alia with the sacred oils of agar, sandalwood, and roses. Rikka blessed her, in the name of her mother, the Huntress. ¡°The letter was inside of this thing.¡± Alia pulled the cylinder from her satchel and presented it to Rikka. The device earned an arched eyebrow and a disapproving stare from Rikka. After a moment she took the cylinder in her hands. ¡°Is the creature native to this world?¡± Alia asked. ¡°No ¡­ but it is an arsh¡¯at?m not unknown to those who practice shadow magic. Earlier you spoke of the shadow priest; such a creature would suit such a man.¡± She leaned forward and lowered her voice. ¡°This beast is a kind of soul-thief, young one. My heart is heavy for you, that you take such risks on our account.¡± Rikka patted Alia¡¯s hand. So uncharacteristic a gesture from Rikka made Alia¡¯s eyes sting with unshed tears. ¡°I gladly take the risk. What choice do I have, with such enemies as ours? Enemies who use things like this beast, as if these creatures were pets they command. What can you tell me, Keeper?¡± Rikka clasped the cylinder again, and uttered a single word Alia had never heard before. A white light flared over the beast, indicating Rikka had neutralized the summoning spell. ¡°This creature will not come into this world, ever. I bind and bar it from this world,¡± Rikka said. ¡°If you still need this device, you may use it without risking your soul.¡± ¡°Thank you, Your Holiness.¡± Rikka examined the rest of the cylinder and sighed. All of her attention went to the shadow bestiary column, which she traced with her index finger. ¡°The Queen of the Namtaru is not a specific being. Rather, it¡¯s a class of Erebossi, you might say. Arrogant, overconfident sorcerers will entreat potent namtaru¡ªevil spirits¡ªwhom they class as kings. Obviously this queen is passing itself off as female. Either way, your Salamandran companion foretold it truly: Erebossa¡¯s agents are involved.¡± Alia shuddered. Too many infernals in this case already, and now a royal abyssal to look forward to dealing with? ¡°And the ¡®nectar¡¯? What does that do? What Children? And why would an abyssal have an interest in them? I have the feeling this has nothing to do with child sacrifice or the like.¡± ¡°Nectar is a lie. The fluid is akin to ichor, the divine essence which flows through my veins and the other Children of the Gods. Akin, but not equal, for there is nothing holy in this substance. The sorcerer who drinks this is inviting an agent of Erebossa into himself. And while the shadow agent resides within him, he can do things. Unholy things.¡± She grew quiet, and stared off into the distance, at something Alia could not see. ¡°Unholy,¡± Alia said carefully. ¡°Like blighting your groves? Abducting your sisters?¡± Rikka nodded. So, the brotherhood¡¯s attack was undoubtedly the work of Erebossi. Though furtive, though discreet, the shadow priests walking the streets of Ebon Cove always disquieted Alia, but now terror kindled. Perhaps¡ªlikely¡ªthe shadow priests and their acolytes were not the product of alienation or disaffection for the greater society of the city as she once believed. How had it failed to occur to her that they may have embraced and willingly chose the Abyssal Serpent¡¯s offspring? Perhaps Junius Fellrath had been building an army right under her nose. How deep did this go? From Alia¡¯s earliest days her mother and her aunts whispered to each other about an insidious malaise permeating their grove. When Alia was eight, Rikka dispatched several of the dryads to scout abroad. They brought back disturbing reports, but found no concrete proof of an attack until Alia was seventeen, when the blight began. The blight circled the grove and grew steadily worse, weakening her mother, Rikka, and the other dryads until Alia was twenty¡ªwhen the first dryad was taken. Relatively frail as they had now become, Rikka could no longer afford to let any of her sisters leave the grove. By then Alia had matured in her training and learning in the ways of the Huntress. Which meant the task of investigating the blight fell to her. For over a decade she pursued her missing aunts, learning first who might have taken them, then trying to learn how, and now she was beginning to get a glimmer on why. If the Radiant Gate should fall, the Erebossi would rise in power to invade the world. Right into the waiting arms of Fellrath and his men. Alia¡¯s anger at Rikka for inviting the flayers began to cool. Under the circumstances, the flayers were the gentle option. ¡°As for the ¡®children,¡¯ I think that is obvious,¡± Rikka continued. ¡°I am a daughter of the Huntress, as are my sisters. Though the letter does not specify, I suppose the queen¡¯s pseudo-nectar could be used against a sea dragon as well. They, too, guard gates; why shouldn¡¯t the namtaru seek their downfall as well?¡± A reasonable hypothesis, Alia judged. Though, a sea dragon would be a difficult target, as the seas were a far more treacherous domain than the wilds of the land. And of course, sorcerers no longer knew the secret of controlling the Sons of the Sea Lord. No one could control them ¡­ none except the Fellraths. ¡°The Obsidian Stinger is a ship,¡± Alia told her. ¡°I¡¯m not sure where it goes, but I intend to follow or board it. It should lead us to your sisters. And possibly, this queen. When I find her, what will I require to deal with her?¡± ¡°You have all you need: your upbringing,¡± Rikka answered. ¡°And your faith in our Exalted Mother. In addition, you have the weapons forged under Her blessing. But¡ªto expel the queen from our realm you will need her name. Learning her name is prerequisite to facing this shadow fiend.¡± ¡°Any ideas? Do you know their names?¡± ¡°Many and none. This queen is one of many possibilities, and I doubt she will sit still for you to go through the list. Find the name and she will be yours to command.¡±
¡°The Salamandra have arrived, my sister,¡± Xylia announced, when Alia and Rikka emerged from Rikka¡¯s bower. She smiled impishly at Alia and tugged Alia¡¯s braid. In return Alia smiled at her favorite aunt, and locked arms with her as they strolled out of the trees and into the clearing. Serafina and seven other Salamandra stood in the center. The six who accompanied Serafina were high ranking priests or sorcerers, marked so by their robes of sapphire blue silk trimmed in white. Blue after all denoted the hottest natural flames, in contrast to the weakest red flames. At Rikka¡¯s approach the Salamandra bowed. All of the other dryads fanned about them, their curiosity evident on their faces. When Rikka acknowledged the visitors Serafina lifted her head and spoke, ¡°Your Grace, a time ago our people pledged to do no harm to the people of this world, nor to harm the daughters of the Huntress, and to keep Her laws. I bring to you the Fire Lords of Ebon Cove, to offer an amendment to the treaty: we pledge our services as protectors of your grove. Our lives are yours, until the safe return of your champion ¡­ and ever after if it pleases you.¡± A rare smile graced Rikka¡¯s face. ¡°On behalf of my sisters I accept your offer in the spirit it was given: with love. Join us now in offerings to our Exalted Mother, for the protection and safe return of the beloved daughter of my sister, the one whom you call our champion.¡± After a ceremony to seal the Salamandras¡¯ oaths before the Huntress¡ªand to pray for Alia¡ªSamara claimed her foster daughter, stealing away with her to the bower where she had reared Alia. This move suited Alia perfectly, for she intended to save her mother for last, so she could savor her good-byes. ¡°And so you will leave,¡± Samara said quietly. ¡°Yes,¡± Alia replied. She poured out everything she knew about her mission, all that she had told Rikka. As she spoke Samara grew more and more somber, until at last her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She lifted her face to the afternoon sky, blinking rapidly. Her bower was topped off with a dome, through which she and Alia would observe the night sky. In this room Alia would curl up next to her on their bed and Samara would tell her about the stars. She would tell Alia about the Huntress, and those days when the Huntress walked amongst them. Alia reached out, touching her mother¡¯s arm. ¡°Don¡¯t fear, Mother. I will find this self-anointed queen, and she will harm you no more when I am through.¡± Samara clasped Alia in a fierce hug. Alia gasped, both surprised and breathless. ¡°Precisely what I am afraid of,¡± Samara said after a moment. ¡°That you will face this one who thinks herself queen. But this knowledge you bring is a boon, because now I know how to face this enemy, what I must do. Your task is¡ªit does not have to be you who does this. Now that we know¡ª¡± Alia stepped back, out of her mother¡¯s embrace so she could look her in the eye. Taking Samara¡¯s hands in her own she said, ¡°Mother. None other can carry out this task. I was with those other venatori last night, and I discovered they are ignorant of what you taught me. And what time do I have to teach them? And Aunt Nalini and Aunt Chrysantha and everyone else¡ªI can¡¯t turn back now just because I am finally the one who must face the Erebossi. I would do no less for you.¡± Her words left Samara breathless. After a moment she wiped her eyes and hugged Alia again. ¡°Forgive your poor mother; she let her fear overcome her. Try and do better, my daughter.¡± Alia patted her shoulders. Warmth suffused her being as she let the silence grow between them. No words remained unsaid between her and Samara; in her heart she steadfastly believed in her foster mother¡¯s love for her. And Samara never had cause to doubt Alia loved her. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°You taught me well, Mother. If your sisters live I will bring them home. If not, I will avenge them.¡± ¡°There is someone who may be able to help you with this name you must find. A magus, Shahin of Anshan. Though he may seem strange to you, I ask you to look beyond his manner. Tell him I am calling in a favor. No request of yours will he deny, for my sake.¡± Her voice hardened and she added, ¡°And his own.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Mirth tinged Samara¡¯s laughter this time. ¡°Did you think I only left this grove to visit you alone?¡± She kissed Alia¡¯s cheek, releasing her. ¡°Fair enough, Mother,¡± Alia agreed. She took one long look at Samara, memorizing her features. I will carry her memory wherever I go, she reminded herself. I will carry her memory in this world ¡­ and the next.
Shahin chose to live amongst the farmers, who dwelt between the grove and the city. Alia wondered about it. Was he a farmer as well, or did he lend them assistance? The Reaper¡¯s children, as she called the farmers, held little fascination for her. The fruits of their labor were delicious, but beyond that? Magus. By such a term Samara called this ¡®Shahin,¡¯ a fact which piqued Alia¡¯s curiosity. The Old Lyrcanians seemed to reserve the term for suspect sorcerers from a place they called Anshan, which had once been part of the Pelasgian empire. However, the term was no longer used exclusively for the Anshani; the Lyrcanians extended it to sorcerers from Xia as well as the sorcerers amongst themselves who were less than pure in their intentions. Alia skirted the prejudice, not understanding the origin or reason behind it. Dryads didn¡¯t partake of human superstitions, so Alia concluded Samara picked up magus from those who knew the sorcerer. Did others call Shahin magus in reference to his origins¡ªhe was from Anshan, after all¡ªor because of his deeds? Her gryphon landed on his back porch. The setting sun haloed her, and cast a rosy glow on the window panes. Shahin¡¯s dwelling, a simple two story house of stone and timber, featured cornices with carvings of manticores and gryphons. A plot of land surrounded his house, and he kept it fruitfully tilled; the pepper trees nearest his house were well-cared for. No clucking chickens, quacking ducks or lowing livestock, so he apparently kept no animals. An invisible breeze tickled her cheeks and whispered past her ears. Magic in the air. ¡°What may I do for you today, huntress?¡± Startled, Alia looked to her right, where the voice had come from. A man stood at the corner of the cottage, basket in one hand, a sickle in the other. Grey curls swirled around his head, and his eyes crinkled a little as he favored her with a cheerful smile. ¡°Good evening to you,¡± Alia replied, before introducing herself. ¡°And I am Shahin. Would you like tea? It would take the edge off. Brisk day.¡± He gestured with his sickle, encompassing the surroundings. Alia hadn¡¯t considered that the days were growing cooler, as winter approached. However, her mother¡¯s enchantment in her coat meant her body wouldn¡¯t have felt the chill regardless. The sorcerer kept a cozy house. The rugs and tapestries throughout depicted foreign flowers unknown to her. A cluster of purple flowers especially fascinated her. ¡°Lilacs,¡± he said, seeing her admiring them. He set a cup down in front of her, and one in front of a vacant chair. ¡°From my home. And you¡ªdoes the rendering of the Gryphon¡¯s Way make you feel at home?¡± ¡°I¡ªwhat?¡± What was the Gryphon¡¯s Way? Shahin cocked his head, indicating the heavy draperies over the windows. Woven throughout was a scene of a woman in a white dress standing up to her waist in a river dotted with water lilies. ¡°The Gryphon¡¯s Way,¡± he repeated. Alia looked from the sorcerer to the tapestry. Her keen eyes insisted no gryphons were woven into the scene. ¡°The tapestry reveals a woman and flowers and a river, but no gryphons. What are you speaking of?¡± Shahin wiggled his eyebrows at her. He brought over an iron kettle and poured red tea into a delicate cup, sending the scent of jasmine wafting through her nostrils. ¡°Your homeland, of course, surely you remember it?¡± Shahin pursued. He filled his own cup, then sat across from her and stared at her. ¡°Oh,¡± Alia sighed. Ah yes, her homeland. The mysterious place some humans or Salamandra spoke of, and always happened to be someplace else. The idea of one¡¯s home being somewhere other than where one was born, or where one chose to live one¡¯s life was utterly foreign to her. Only poorly adapted immigrants who couldn¡¯t let go of their pasts thought that way. ¡°Oho, a Lyrcanian through and through, eh?¡± Shahin smiled mischievously. ¡°Ah, I see many of your kind¡ªLyrcanians, I mean¡ªwho have no thought at all of their ancestral lands. But it¡¯s strange to see a Ta-Setian in that position. I thought your people always stood outside of time, looking in on us mortals. Making your plans. Maneuvering us to do who knows what, for whatever purposes suits your ways.¡± Alia¡¯s stomach plunged,as though she¡¯d fallen through another portal. Her body went south, her mind fled north. Ta-Setians? Enigmatic¡ªimmortal?¡ªpeople who manipulated others? Certain interactions with Lyrcanians took on a different light. Did some people believe her to be toying with them? With their fates? ¡°You have the advantage of me, sorcerer,¡± she said at last. ¡°I know not of such games you speak of. Or of this Ta-Seti. Before you is a child of the Ebon Grove, and that is all.¡± ¡°Indeed?¡± Shahin clapped his hands together. His eyes danced as he looked her over. ¡°Well. Well. This is quite the opportunity. A once in a lifetime thing. How fortunate am I.¡± Alia rose. So far Shahin seemed a playful old man, not at all worthy of the magus slur. But she sensed he believed her to be in his power somehow, beyond his abilities as a sorcerer. Unsettling. However¡ªMother sent her to him, which obliged her to stand her ground, not turn and flee as she wished. She planted her hands flat on the table. The wooden surface was a highly polished teak, very smooth, and still honey brown. ¡°No games, sorcerer. I come to you as the daughter of Samara, dryad of the Ebon Grove. Do not meddle with me.¡± Shahin shook with silent laughter, and wagged his finger at her as he fought to regain his composure. ¡°No tricks, immortal huntress. No tricks. I give you my word. Daughter of Lady Samara, you say? Oho, there¡¯s a story there. And now it¡¯s all clear. You must be the foster child she spoke so lovingly about.¡± Alia waited. After a decade amongst humans she suspected the man was baiting her, trying to draw her into some game he might enjoy, but at her expense. Well, she would not play along. Nor would she let him distract her from her purpose; not if she wanted to face down a high-ranking agent of Erebossa and live. Shahin brought out treats, one for her and one for him. Cakes flavored with cardamom, pistachios, and saffron, and scented with rosewater. The man liked his fragrances, she noted approvingly. She grew up with the scents of flowers and trees in the grove, and she missed them in the city. A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she remembered running through the grove with Misty on her heels. ¡°So I ask again, huntress: What can I do for you today?¡± ¡°The blight in my mother¡¯s grove is the work of Erebossa¡¯s agents. A group of sorcerers use infernal ichor to strike at my grove. I need the name of their shadow ¡®queen¡¯ if I¡¯m to expel it from this realm.¡± ¡°Would you care to ask for all the treasures of the fire dragons of Goldhaven, too?¡± Shahin laughed at his little joke. He calmed himself and said, ¡°I hear things. About Junius Fellrath and his people. The Lords of Chaos, the shadow priests he kept on his leash.¡± A fitting name. The shadow priests stood outside of the order of things, and seemed determined to sow further disorder in Ebon Cove. ¡°These priests seem numerous,¡± Alia groused. ¡°And they are not above soul cutting.¡± ¡°Indeed? Be on your guard, huntress. For my part, I have kept an eye on things here as best I can. And my ears to the ground as it were! Has the name Obsidian Stinger come to you?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Again Shahin rose, and went over to a clay pot he kept on a spice shelf above his stove. He rummaged through the pot for a moment, before pulling out two rings. One was a seal ring of hepatizon, a special red-violet metal. The seal used a sigil Alia recognized, from the letter of marque in Fellrath¡¯s office. The other ring was a carved ruby, made into a perfect copy of Fellrath¡¯s signet: a two-faced head, the left being that of a manticore, and the right being that of a sea dragon. ¡°How did you come by these spoils?¡± Alia asked. ¡°I have my own resources, huntress,¡± Shahin said with a mischievous smile. ¡°These I give to you freely. If you fear my generosity, know that I must help you. Unlike those allied with the demon, sorcerers such as myself find ourselves hindered. Cornered. Allow me this means of striking back, I ask of you.¡± ¡°Cornered? How?¡± ¡°Like other sorcerers, I must consult with spirits from time to time. But for quite some time, my ¡­ steps have been dogged. Some dreadful thing has done its best to keep me away from the spirits. There is no good that would come of this. Trust me.¡± He glanced at her. ¡°Or not.¡± ¡°Who or what is doing this? The shadow queen?¡± Shahin pointed to the infernal signet ring. ¡°This came to me by chance. Carefully arranged chance, but chance all the same. Unfortunately, I cannot assay the name behind that sigil, not now. The danger is too great. I must wait until the time is right, but you don¡¯t have time for that. There is one other thing.¡± He gestured for her to follow him, leading her upstairs to an expansive room he apparently reserved as his library and still room. The volumes in this room carried the scent of myrrh, revealing they were used to record spells. Shahin went straight for one codex in particular. Leather bound, tanned hide, vellum pages. He handed the volume to her. Expectant, Alia opened it, then looked up in surprise. ¡°Why is it blank?¡± ¡°The first signet ring I gave you will get you aboard the Obsidian Stinger. But the infernal name? You need to find someone who has had dealings with that entity. Write the name of that person in their blood in this codex and you will be a step closer to your goal.¡± Alia¡¯s lips curled. ¡°A blood codex? Tell me this binding is not human skin!¡± ¡°It¡¯s not human skin,¡± Shahin deadpanned. Seeing her expression he smiled sardonically. ¡°Dragon leather. And the pages are dragon-skin vellum. Very smooth, is it not? Best of all, the pages are safe from fire.¡± Somewhat mollified, Alia accepted the codex. ¡°Do I need any extraordinary tools to write in this? A hydra tooth, perhaps?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be melodramatic,¡± Shahin scolded. ¡°Use your quill. Or kill two birds with one stone and use a stylus. You can get the blood and the instrument all in one.¡± At the mention of stabbing someone with a stylus, Alia paused. Well, of the rivers of blood before her, this was only a drop. ¡°Why do it this way? What exactly will this book do?¡± ¡°Think of this codex as a brute-force scrying pool. You know it is said, ¡®blood will out?¡¯ These pages prove that. You said that Fellrath¡¯s people are taking the queen¡¯s ichor into themselves. Quite fortunate, because that is what binds them all together. No celestial or infernal can be scried, but someone tainted by Erebossa¡¯s shadow agents can be found out.¡± Shahin paused, and his eyes darkened, as if fixed on something in his mind¡¯s eye. ¡°Some sorcerers use such volumes as this to reveal family bloodlines¡ªespecially if they intend to destroy that bloodline. And now, through their ties to the so-called shadow queen, Fellrath¡¯s group has delivered themselves into your hands. Seek them out, huntress: their movements will be revealed to you.¡± Shahin¡¯s feral smile intrigued her. ¡°You are so passionate about this. Are you a huntsman or a reaper?¡± Reapers were inherently against blights: devotees of the Reaper were obliged to cultivate plants or harness animals sacred to the gods. ¡°Must I be either? Could it not be that I simply oppose Fellrath because he was a man with a cause that must be opposed?¡± Alia shrugged. ¡°Fair enough.¡± Instinct warned her this was not the extent of Shahin¡¯s interests in Fellrath¡¯s affairs, but she was not cynical by nature and Shahin¡¯s sentiments were beyond reproach by her own lights. However, she was beginning to suspect Shahin¡¯s allegiance belonged to neither the Reaper nor the Huntress. She knew little of Anshan, but she had heard the Anshani were devoted to Aletheia, the Truthsayer. A goddess in the Seeker¡¯s Alliance, whom truth-seers in particular paid fealty to. Alia glanced down at the ¡®brute-force scrying pool¡¯ in her hands, then decided against pressing the issue. She put the codex in her satchel. When she looked up, Shahin was still staring at her. Looking her over. Taking her measure. Openly calculating. ¡°What is it?¡± The words came out sharper than she intended. ¡°You are a most curious person. Did the dryads name you? Certainly they must have; your name is in keeping with their style. What was your name before, I wonder?¡± Alluding to her origins again. Alia sighed. Of course she knew Samara wasn¡¯t her natural mother, but it never occurred to her that fact was supposed to be interesting. Not worth brooding over or obsessing about. Samara was a marvelous mother, and her aunts were so loving and taught her much. By the time Alia found out humans were supposed to have fathers, she lacked the freedom to indulge her curiosity about what fathers were, and what they were like. The matter must wait. All of her energy went into protecting the family who raised her, not searching out the family who didn¡¯t. Now this Shahin was dangling a tantalizing morsel before her eyes, and anger sparked within her. ¡°Why would that matter to you?¡± she demanded. ¡°Come, huntress. Come. You need the shadow queen¡¯s name to expel it. There is power in names, as I¡¯m sure you know. Yet, no one can have that power over you. ¡®Alia Ironwing¡¯ is a name bestowed by those who needed something to call you at their own convenience.¡± ¡°It is my name,¡± she insisted. ¡°All names fit your description. Why are you Shahin? Why is someone else named Sharma or Sheridan? There is nothing special about my situation. My name is no less legitimate just because the dryads chose it.¡± ¡°Would you teach me my business, huntress?¡± Shahin¡¯s smile had an edge to it. Alia eyed him warily. There was no further reason for her to stay. She could leave right now, and have done with whatever agenda the sorcerer was attempting to further. Yet she didn¡¯t move. He nodded, holding her gaze. ¡°Alia. As in, another. There may have been another human present when your mother took you in. Or, perhaps you are the other human she and her sisters ever fostered. Did she tell you? And Ironwing¡ªthe lorekeepers say that whenever dryads take in a foundling, they bestow a name that refers to iron. To remind the foundling of their proper place, outside their groves. How long did Lady Samara keep you?¡± ¡°Until I was twenty,¡± she answered. Inwardly, she cursed herself. Why was she playing the sorcerer¡¯s game instead of ending it? To what end?The snare the sorcerer set before her was loaded with sparkles and dainties, yet for all of that it was still a snare. And still she was stepping in it. Fool! But she did not move. ¡°So they kept you a long time. Longer than normal.¡± He nodded to himself. ¡°Your mother undoubtedly loved you very much indeed. But I think there is more to this story, perhaps more than she ever told you. Your situation is special. By your looks you are a Ta-Setian. Immortal folk do not leave their children strewn about. How might you have ended up cut off from your people, with no knowledge of yourself?Quite an intriguing tale to unravel.¡± ¡°And that helps you how?¡± Shahin¡¯s eyebrows rose in surprise. ¡°It helps me not at all. I simply am curious. Sorcerers are an inquisitive lot, you will find. The better ones amongst us, at any rate.¡± ¡°But you want something,¡± she pursued. ¡°Subtlety is not in you today, if ever it was. Speak your demands.¡± ¡°A dryad¡¯s directness. Nice.¡± He winked at her. ¡°I wish to bargain with you: I will see if I can unravel your tale. In turn I ask you to avenge me¡ª¡± Alia turned on her heel, breaking the tension between them. ¡°Good day to you. Thank you for the codex and the rings, but I think our business is done.¡± Snap!A silver line appeared on the floor before her. Alia recoiled; recognizing a barrier. Instinctively she whipped out moonbow knives even as she whirled to face the sorcerer. Only the look on Shahin¡¯s face checked her. All the color had drained from him. Audible breaths, hard and ragged, as if his little spell had taken all of his energy. He lowered his gaze, bowing his head to her. ¡°Forgive me, huntress,¡± he whispered. ¡°Forgive a desperate man. I have nowhere else to turn, and no better hope than you, if you will aid me.¡± Still in her fighting stance, Alia coolly eyed him. ¡°Speak.¡± Haltingly, Shahin obeyed her. ¡°I have a sister. Young, happily married. With a little boy. Darling, boy, she writes. He should be nine or so, I¡¯d think.¡± Shahin gestured to her bag. ¡°Remember what I said about the codex?¡± Alia paused. ¡°That its normal use¡ª¡± ¡°My name is written in one of these books. Shadow priests are hunting bloodlines, for reasons I do not believe are virtuous.¡± Shahin paused, his lips thinning and his eyes going out of focus at the memory. He inhaled sharply and continued, ¡°They snared me well, lovely huntress. A year ago I was attacked on the streets in Lyrcania, when I was on an errand to help a victim made poor by a crop charming. So I thought. Sadly, the address I was given wasn¡¯t even real, just an alleyway between a boot shop and a dry goods store. I didn¡¯t find that out until after I was patched up, though.¡± ¡°Were they after your blood?¡± Shahin clutched his arm, as though he were still pained by the wound. ¡°Yes. If you guess I was relentless in my investigation you would be right. Finally I found the Anaxander who had posed so artfully as a victim. Would you believe he was the same man who knifed me? When I found him he was with a partner, and a man was collapsed at their feet. Knocked out. The smug git was using a bloody stylus to write in a manuscript similar to the one I gave you. They ran away when they saw me.¡± ¡°Did you catch them?¡± ¡°If I were twenty years younger!¡± Shahin¡¯s shoulders slumped. ¡°To my bitter shame they got away. I went back for their victim, another sorcerer. He said Anaxander was one of the shadow priests, and even where their stronghold is, but it does me no good. You? You are already at war with them.¡± Silent, Alia contemplated his words. Fellrath had used a blood spell to trap the dryads he¡¯d abducted. Perhaps he was selective about his source of blood, preferring certain sorcerers? A blood codex would help him track down the right people. Now she considered the reports to the Watch from time to time, of sorcerers being knifed on the streets. Random crimes, she thought at the time. But perhaps not so random after all¡­ ¡°If you don¡¯t want to kill them, at least destroy the codex,¡± Shahin pleaded, misreading her hesitation. ¡°If I make a move, they can retaliate by attacking my sister. For all I know they have cursed my bloodline already. But you would be invisible to them, nameless immortal, even if they had your blood.¡± Alia dismissed his assurances with a wave of her hand. Let the shadow priests come looking for her; the sooner they found her the sooner she could destroy them. What interested her now was their purpose in searching out bloodlines. They were the last people she¡¯d trust with such knowledge. ¡°Here is how it will be,¡± she said at last. ¡°Cease your inquiries into my origins. Protect the family I have now, with whatever spells you have in your arsenal. If I find the blood codex I will destroy it. I will learn why the shadow priests are after sorcerers. And I will deal with them accordingly. If I am pleased with how you have aided my family, I will tell you what I learned. Do we have a bargain?¡± Shahin paused, then smiled slowly. ¡°We have a bargain, huntress.¡± Chapter 8: The Second Morning Chapter VIII The Second Morning In which deals are struck The sun rose bright and red on the second morning. Alia stayed close to the Watch, suspecting the last-minute holdouts from Fellrath¡¯s brotherhood would seek her protection. She sent out Serafina and Sheridan to look into the Lords of Chaos, in an effort to find out the extent of their involvement with Junius. She busied herself, questioning Rav and Clawfoot and pouring over the journal Quintus gave her. Rav enlightened her about the cylinder, explaining that Junius had three such, distributed to select people in his network. The abiding principle was that three of the sides in the hexagon would be relevant, and three would be junk, to stymie anyone attempting to crack the code. Tongue loosened by fear, Rav gave her the codes as he remembered them. He confirmed one of the cylinders belonged to the captain of the Obsidian Stinger. Junius gave the captain a third cylinder, to pass to a mysterious man whose name never came to Rav¡¯s ears, and whose face Rav never set eyes on. But neither Rav nor Clawfoot knew the name of the queen, a point they insisted upon. Utari Joshi, an alethomantis of the Watch, confirmed the men spoke the truth. Later, Alia consulted Utari about the blood codex. ¡°People who are not scryers, and not scrupulous, will resort to such things,¡± Utari said, curling her lips in distaste. She turned the codex over in her hands, stopping in her tracks to examine it further. The Watch¡¯s garden was awash with gold. With the coming of autumn the chrysanthemums bloomed in force, and the groundskeepers endeavored to prominently display them to their best advantage. A fact Alia and Utari both noted as they strolled through the garden. ¡°The sorcerer told me a blood codex is used to seek and destroy bloodlines,¡± Alia said. ¡°Aye,¡± Utari confirmed. ¡°Though, I suppose in the hands of someone like you these books would have another purpose. You wish to hunt servants of Erebossa? This is your best bet. The sorcerer did not steer you wrong, Ironwing.¡± ¡°But why can¡¯t the Erebossan itself be scried? Its ¡®blood¡¯ is material, which should place the infernal agent within my reach, shouldn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°The Erebossan must have crossed over into our world, in order to give its blood to others,¡± Utari mused. ¡°But Ironwing, an Erebossan is not native to this world, which I think may be the key. I suspect if a scryer were in Erebossa she could scry an abyssal or an arsh¡¯at?m, but not anything native to our world. Or perhaps not¡ªperhaps scryers can only see those beings that come from the same world we do. Keep in mind, I am only average in my scrying abilities.¡± Alia paused. The women came to a covered causeway built of stone and wood. At regular intervals pavilions intersected the bridge, and each pavilion displayed a theme: first Sorcha, then Aletheia, and finally Amyntas. Or, Light, Truth, and Protection of the Innocent, in that order. For each deity¡¯s pavilion the support columns bore reliefs of Her or His image, and the center of each pavilion housed a statue in the deity¡¯s likeness. The causeway led to the city proper; the Watch¡¯s headquarters were situated on an island in the Pink Pearl Lagoon. In the old days, Alia was told, pearl divers would gather there. The waters of Ebon Cove reliably yielded pink pearls, hence the name. Centuries ago, civic-minded businessmen commissioned the construction of the causeway, connecting the island to the rest of the city. ¡°Can you scry Salamandra? Are they hidden, or visible to you?¡± Utari halted in obvious surprise, staring sightlessly at the shoppers on the bridge. Clever and fortunate merchants usually did a brisk business in the pavilions; being so close to the Watch meant no fear of cutpurses to discourage customers. Earlier in the morning Alia had strolled through the pavilions, getting a sense of the people. The gunsmiths and Ellura merchants who sold wands called three times for Watchmen to escort them to the banks to make deposits, all before noon. They tipped their hats to her, and thanked her for bringing them good fortune. One gunsmith even presented her with a case of cartridges, and renewed his offer to convert her gun to the newer ¡°all weather¡± upgrade. ¡°What if it¡¯s raining when you see a flayer, eh?¡± ¡°I will think on it,¡± Alia had told him, and mentally made a note to visit his forge later. A few of the gunsmith¡¯s customers she chatted with were in high spirits as they inspected their purchases, and one winked at her. Just in case, right? Utari turned back to Alia. ¡°I can,¡± she said at last. ¡°Salamandra can be tricky to scry, but it can be done. Why?¡± Alia¡¯s mind raced as she considered the implications. Salamandra were foreign, but they were not hidden from scryers. If Utari was right then it suggested Salamandra were now considered ¡®citizens¡¯ of Thuraia. If she was wrong, then something else altogether prevented her from seeing fiends. Alia waved away the question, feigning nonchalance. At a time when people were frightened of otherworldly visitors it seemed imprudent to reveal the origins of the Salamandra any time soon. ¡°Simply fleshing out your hypothesis. Salamandra are not human; perhaps one human can only scry another human, and a Salamandran must scry a Salamandran. But as you said you can scry Salamandra, then you¡¯re probably right about shared nativity of a world being the deciding factor.¡± ¡°What will you do about the flayers? You said you were planning to leave soon.¡± Ah. What happened next depended on the whereabouts of the Obsidian Stinger. Supposedly, per Clawfoot, the ship would arrive in port tomorrow. However, Alia couldn¡¯t responsibly leave town. Not until she convinced the public the flayers no longer stalked the streets. Waves of prominent citizens stormed the Watch, obliging Captain Palamara to field several meetings, all about the flayers. The Sun and Stars Society insisted he do something about Alia and the flayers. After all, Alia surely cooked up the flayers as a cheap ploy to continue her ¡®persecution¡¯ of their members. Alia gladly sat in on that meeting. Lord Brennus Fellrath attended, as well as his wife and two men, who all made up the top leaders of the Sun and Stars Society. When Fellrath finished ranting, Alia directly addressed him. ¡°Junius Fellrath and his associates were killed because of their crimes against the dryads of the Ebon Grove. Their iniquity is why the flayers are here at all. Now, if you are all innocent of anything to do with that unholy business, there is no need for you to worry. The flayers will be quite content to ignore you, as I would be.¡± ¡°You accuse my son! Always you have done so,¡± Lord Fellrath cried. ¡°You and your ridiculous vendetta¡ª¡± Light flashed from Alia¡¯s throat as her amulet flared. Fellrath broke off and stepped back. The icy cold of her voice made him visibly shiver as she answered, ¡°Say that once more and I will command your alethomantis and all the truth-seers of the city to appear in the amphitheatre. I will invite the whole city to hear the truth-seers all declare me the truth teller and denounce you as a liar. You know that is the only outcome possible, so don¡¯t waste my time pretending otherwise. Test me, and I will make it so.¡± Lyrcanians, Alia had learned, liked to use truth-seers to settle matters of honor. An accusation which stained the name of the accused gave the accused had the right to have alethomantis judge the matter before the entire city. If the accusation had been knowingly false and malicious, the alethomantis would know. And the accuser, in turn, would lose their tongue for their lies. Lady Felicia Fellrath recoiled, reflexively clamping her hand over her own mouth. Reddish highlights shimmered in the room, cast by her sparkling ruby signet ring as the light caught it. One of the men grabbed Lord Fellrath¡¯s arm, as though to restrain him. Fellrath glanced at Palamara, as if he expected the captain to rebuke Alia, but Palamara¡¯s deadpan expression checked him. Lord Fellrath started to speak, but Alia continued, ¡°Should you wish to be eaten alive I shall not intervene. For what reason should I save you, if you refuse to tell me how I can undo what your son has done? At every turn you obstructed me in stopping your son; now comes the day when you will pay for his wickedness. When you go to the Court of Judgment in Erebossa you can tell the Destroyer of your complaints. Do you understand me, Brennus Fellrath?¡± ¡°Yessss. Watch-Huntress. I understand you exactly.¡± Lord Fellrath sounded as though the words were dragged out of him. Though Alia tried to look at each of his companions in the eye, they all of them averted their gazes from her. Fear. The emotion displayed so nakedly upon their faces brought to Alia¡¯s remembrance what Palamara told her earlier: she brought flayers to heel¡ªunscathed¡ªand must be reckoned with accordingly. Or so I must let them think, anyway. But the Fellraths were not used to anyone balking them. Ever since Karis was immolated by her own violation of the vow she made to the Huntress¡ªa violation Alia exposed with her test¡ªBrennus had it in for her. All along he, his family, and the Sun and Stars Society tried to paint Alia as a country yokel, an uncivilized wild child who lashed out at a world she didn¡¯t understand. They sought to discredit her, a seemingly easy task thanks to her ignorance of human customs. Nor did she operate under the aegis of high status Lyrcanians; none in her circle ranked high enough to protect her from social sanction. But Alia was unmoved. Why should she care if she were one of the ¡®select¡¯ or the ¡®esteemed¡¯ in the city? Why should she seek the high opinions of anyone she had no reason to regard? Who were these so-called ¡®right¡¯ people whose approval she should pursue? What made their good opinion worthy of obtaining? As an utter outsider with no interest in becoming an insider, Alia frustrated the Fellraths and others like them. Now it dawned on her that to the Fellraths and suchlike she was akin to a flayer: she struck without warning, fearless of retribution. She had nothing to lose. And now, the flayers were in town. Alia smiled. Rikka truly had done her a favor. The flayers had upset the balance, offering a visceral threat that brooked neither challenge nor retaliation. An advantage Alia readily admitted she lacked. Lady Fellrath lowered her head, and peered at Alia through her lashes. ¡°You would let those things kill us, wouldn¡¯t you? You truly believe we deserve to die so horribly, don¡¯t you?¡± Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡°Didn¡¯t I tell you?¡± one of the men rasped. ¡°Didn¡¯t I say she¡¯s a zealot? The crazy¡ªumm¡ªthis woman thinks she¡¯s acting on the orders of the Huntress. We can¡¯t argue her out of that.¡± Ignoring the insult, Alia turned to Palamara. ¡°In fifteen hours it will be midnight. Listening to these people lie and obfuscate and deny is not high on my list of priorities.¡± Palamara nodded, and roused himself from the desk he had been leaning against. Standing tall and straight he addressed the Sun and Stars Society. ¡°Watch-Huntress Ironwing is correct. You are wasting our time. If you have reason to ask for our protection, ask it. If not, then be on your way. The flayers present us with quite the to-do list. First on the list is making sure the morgue has space enough for the bodies the flayers send them. Assuming the flayers leave anything of their targets, I mean.¡± He eyed them, his expression saying it all. Lady Fellrath faltered, and as if by instinct she and Lord Fellrath clasped hands together. Their knuckles whitened, so tightly did they grip one another¡¯s palms, Alia noted. At that moment she remembered the pair had earlier claimed Junius¡¯s remains from the morgue. Now came the moment of truth. The Sun and Stars Society were trapped. For years they proclaimed their innocence so loudly that they could not come to her now for refuge against the flayers. To do so would be to admit their guilt; admit Alia had been telling the truth all along about Junius and his operations against the dryads. They would have to admit they had associated themselves with such a man and given him cover. How humiliating for them. But to not come to Alia would mean a long and painful death. And Aunt Nalini? What horrors had they allowed to happen to her and her fellow abducted sisters? The question hardened Alia¡¯s heart, squelching any mercy she might have been tempted to offer. Pitiless, she started for the door. She barely took two steps when Lady Fellrath cried out. ¡°Wait! Please! We must speak to you. We¡ªwe must speak, Watch-Huntress.¡± Alia glanced over her shoulder at the group. ¡°I don¡¯t need to speak to you unless you have something to tell me. Do you have something to tell me, Lady Fellrath?¡± Lady Fellrath¡¯s jaw worked. Naked calculation shone upon her face, and Alia was confident of her interpretation: Two other children remained to Lady Fellrath and her husband. With unmatched maternal ruthlessness she had protected Junius, and her family¡¯s reputation. But Junius was dead and beyond her efforts to save him ¡­ and she still had two other offspring she needed to protect just as ruthlessly. Sacrifices must be made. ¡°Perhaps ¡­ my son may have been misguided,¡± Lady Fellrath began. Lord Fellrath lunged for her, but she released his hand and stepped forward, unheeding. The other two men grabbed Fellrath¡¯s arms, restraining him. Coolly Lady Fellrath continued, ¡°But I swear to you, on my very soul and the souls of my younger children, neither I nor my husband¡ªnor the children¡ªever wronged the daughters of the Huntress. Nor have these others with me. You already have access to Junius¡¯s home and his offices. If there is anything more you need, we will give it to you. Gladly.¡± The withering stare she turned on her husband visibly quelled him. Mustering every scrap of dignity left to him, Fellrath shook off his lackeys and straightened his coat, with perhaps more force than necessary. ¡°Ahem. I concur with Felicia,¡± he said contritely. ¡°Please accept our offer of full cooperation. Let that be known to the whole city,¡± he said. ¡°Whatever you need, whatever you want, ask and it¡¯s yours.¡±
As the day went on, information flowed fast and furiously. Alia ordered Clawfoot to make contact with the captain of the Obsidian Stinger. ¡°You will say to him there¡¯s trouble, which will confirm whatever he thinks he¡¯s heard about,¡± Alia said. ¡°But you will tell him to wait for you, to receive one last dryad you captured. Make sure he¡¯s not spooked away.¡± As it turned out, her aunt Nalini hadn¡¯t been trapped in the lighthouse the night Alia had found Gavin. The Brotherhood already whisked her away, two weeks before. Clawfoot did as she asked. She forced him to use a palm-sized call globe, partly to compel him to reveal the call signs, and partly to ensure only he would be visible. By nightfall, Sheridan and Serafina returned. ¡°The shadow priests have burrowed in whatever secret lairs are available to them,¡± Serafina reported. ¡°All my contacts say the same thing: the shadow priests have fled the city. I wonder why they think they can evade the flayers that way?¡± Alia¡¯s instincts warned her the absence of the Lords of Chaos didn¡¯t herald a pleasant outcome. Undefeated and unrepentant; nothing barred their return. What would they come up with to avenge their fallen? Rav and Clawfoot gave her the names of new targets to seek, which she passed along. ¡°Do we just wait for the screaming to start?¡± Sheridan asked. The Watch increased patrols, particularly in territory Junius and his people ruled over. Some of the brotherhood staunchly refused to turn themselves in, preferring to flee or hold their ground. These in particular piqued Alia¡¯s curiosity. Greed clearly motivated Rav and Clawfoot. Their partnership with Junius had brought them wealth and power as sorcerers. But the ones who refused to turn themselves in? Undoubtedly these were the steadfast devout, the ones motivated to do the queen¡¯s bidding. Whatever their agenda, flayers would not deter them in their pursuit of it. She called the Watch¡¯s sorcerers together. ¡°A sorcerer informed me a malicious entity is interfering with attempts to contact the guardian spirits. Did any of you experience this?¡± The sorcerer who stepped forward had a familiar face, but Alia didn¡¯t know his name. ¡°Are you saying this is connected to your case?¡± he demanded. The question earned him a sidelong glare from Alia. Quickly she tamped on her irritation, remembering how Watch officers often jealously guarded their particular domains and cases. This man led the division responsible for investigating crop charms and other agricultural crimes. In theory, he must give way to her if she made a claim on his investigations. However, Alia wasn¡¯t interested in proving this. ¡°Perhaps,¡± she said, as casually as possible. ¡°I only know that a treacherous Erebossan may be involved in this problem. Be vigilant, and watch for attack: I promise you one is coming. If any of you have any insights to share, I would welcome them.¡± She told them about the Lords of Chaos, and details about the shadow priest¡¯s attempt to perform a soul-cutting. ¡°I may have to leave soon, but the Lords of Chaos may strike at any of you. As guardians of Lyrcania we are all under one shield. More than ever we must guard each other¡¯s backs.¡± This loosened tongues. The sorcerers confirmed a strange presence kept pace with them. Each had thought they were alone in this problem, and were relieved to finally have a thread to follow. Captain Palamara immediately called for volunteers to form a unit to investigate this mysterious presence. ¡°We¡¯re all one in this. An attack on one of us is an attack on all of us,¡± Palamara insisted. A cheer went up. Alia sighed her relief, though she was not at all calmed. His words would be tested soon. She was sure of it.
The clock struck midnight. The night was eerily silent. Only the watchmen were abroad, patrolling the streets for any sign of flayer activity. Alia remained at the fortress, ready to move if any reports came in. However, after so long a day she needed a break, and thus she headed to the ready room. A flayer met her there. Her heart did three somersaults when she saw the creature standing in the middle of the room. Like a crocodile in a swimming pool. Shock strangled the scream in her throat, forcing her to stare helplessly instead. ¡°We return,¡± the flayer said. It pointed a talon at her. An invitation to speak? Alia exhaled, expelling the breath she hadn¡¯t realized she¡¯d been holding until then. ¡°I have mine,¡± she said. Though they tried, none of the lorekeepers on staff or in the local archives discovered a method to ward off flayers. Proactively preventing an attack was not an option. Stark reality forced Alia to accept the Watchmen would serve only to clean up the flayers'' victims. Standing orders to shoot flayers on sight offered little solace to her fellow Watchmen. Yet, oddly enough, the citizens of Ebon Cove were not panicking. After a while Alia learned the reason: she explicitly named the Brotherhood as the flayers¡¯ prey during her demonstration in the amphitheater. Apparently, everyone else interpreted her statement to mean it¡¯s not going to happen to me. Furthermore, the Watch made a great show of patrolling the streets. They were seen to be doing something, which again made the average person feel safer. ¡°And the others?¡± ¡°Is there anything I can do to stop you?¡± The flayer¡¯s eyes narrowed to slits. ¡°Their deaths buy the lives of my people. Do not interfere!¡± ¡°Rikka won¡¯t kill your people. She said as much to you,¡± Alia reminded it. Though in the back of her mind she still wondered how Rikka had regained the power to shape-change animals. A question she would hold in abeyance, until she could profitably chase it down. What mattered was that the dryads were not siphoning the life from the flayers¡¯ world. ¡°You fulfilled your part, you do not need to continue killing. I will tell her I am satisfied with the outcome, and she will petition the Huntress to release the curse from your lands.¡± Two days ago she had publicly declared she would not tolerate flayers going around slaughtering people. A declaration in keeping with the oath she once took to protect people from such creatures. A declaration she meant with all her heart. Granted¡ªthe sorcerers were not innocent. They had brought their trouble on themselves, but that wound on Sheridan¡¯s neck reminded Alia that the nets of retribution against the wicked sometimes ensnared the innocent as well. The importance of order in a society had become apparent to her over the years. The Watch was supposed to protect everyone; they were not supposed to discriminate or decide for themselves who deserved protecting and who didn¡¯t. As a huntress she was authorized to slay the enemies of the Huntress. But as an officer of the Watch she had no such writ, and Alia was equally as obligated to fulfill the oath she took when she joined the Watch. She owed it to the people of Ebon Cove; she owed them the reality they should trust in the Watch to safeguard their lives and their laws. Breaking the people¡¯s trust would sow evil upon the ground, and the reaping would be bitter. And deadly. Alia had learned as much in her time amongst humans. Though she openly offered refuge to the flayers¡¯ prey, she was still obligated to try to rescue those who hadn¡¯t thrown themselves on her mercy. The flayer stepped forward. ¡°Do I have your word?¡± It took everything Alia had to stand her ground. ¡°I swear it. Will you return the sorcerers you¡¯ve taken?¡± It was not enough for her to do the right thing. Like the Watch, she had to be seen to do the right thing. She needed evidence, evidence she could use publicly to convince people the threat was over¡ªand that it had been real in the first place. The Sun and Stars Society had taught her well: she must thwart any chance of someone credibly claiming she¡¯d brought the flayers and created the crisis. The missing sorcerers would perfectly serve her ends¡­ The flayer sized her up. Alia faced it down. Wittingly or not, the flayers earlier demonstrated they weren¡¯t the type of apex predators who lost their temper when an opponent looked them in the eye. Further, if Serafina was right about how the creatures viewed others, then Alia needed to establish she was a person by the standards flayers used. By conceding she possessed power over its fate, the flayer tacitly admitted Alia was a mortal threat. A person, therefore. ¡°Is that your price?¡± the flayer demanded. She answered swiftly. ¡°It is.¡± The flayer made a low noise, similar to a king cobra¡¯s hiss¡ªbut far more sinister. ¡°Then it will be so,¡± the flayer snapped. It took another step toward Alia and added, ¡°Do not cross my path again. My people have been grievously used, and I will not forget.¡± Oh really? Alia stepped forward. ¡°How fleeting your memory is: you ignored the call of a keeper. The natural consequence of disobeying the Huntress is on you. I have not interfered with you, nor used you to do my bidding. Remember that.¡± She considered adding, the Keeper will certainly remember, but she never borrowed authority when making threats, and she most especially would not borrow Rikka¡¯s. However, she was treading dangerous tides and she knew it. A dryad or a khrestai would play by the Laws of the Huntress. Laws which clearly declared that those who did not willfully wrong them were not lawful game, and Alia hadn¡¯t wronged them. Legally, if the flayers made Alia their prey, then they in turn became prey to Rikka, who would punish them accordingly. Did the flayers have such beliefs? And would it matter, after the fact? The flayer stared her down once more. In the blink of an eye, it vanished. Chapter 9: The Pegasus Protocol IX The Pegasus Protocol In which the Watch is tested With barely two hours before midnight, Alia returned to the grove. After a short, terse meeting, Rikka agreed to honor Alia¡¯s bargain, formally releasing the flayers and restoring the blessings of the Huntress to their lands. At Alia¡¯s request, the flayers agreed to release the sorcerers not only at noon, but in the market square, where all would see them. Alia hurried back. She returned to the Watch just in time. The moment she finished telling Palamara about the treaty she negotiated, a screech pierced the air. A crow flew through Palamara¡¯s office window and landed on his desk, startling them. ¡°What the¡ª?¡± Palamara started. The crow turned three times on its feet, and on its final turn it pointed itself at Alia. ¡°Caw! Caw! Caw!¡± With a mad flutter of wings, the bird flew away. Alia and Palamara stared at each other in surprise. ¡°That was ¡­ odd ¡­¡± Palamara observed. ¡°A warning,¡± Alia whispered. Alarms rang out in the fortress. ¡°We¡¯re under attack!¡± someone screamed. Alia and Palamara rushed out of his office. Immediately they were jostled by officers running past, heading en masse for the south tower. A voice called out, catching Alia¡¯s attention. Sheridan was fighting to make his way against the crowd. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Alia demanded when he finally reached her. ¡°Shadow priests are materializing,¡± Sheridan answered. ¡°They showed up in the barracks and started killing everyone!¡± Instinctively Alia reached for her knives, before she remembered the Dragon Pearl IV. Ever since meeting the flayers she kept the weapon holstered at her right hand. ¡°Stop!¡± Palamara boomed. Almost immediately, watchmen obeyed him. ¡°Running blind? Are you mad? The Pegasus Protocol is in effect, people!¡± The watchmen regrouped, and their training took over. Alia stayed close to Palamara, and Sheridan in turn stayed close to her. The Pegasus Protocol called for the Watch to organize itself into units with specific tasks to defend the fortress. By design, each unit contained a good mix of sorcerers, armsmen, and hand-to-hand combat specialists. As part of Palamara¡¯s unit, Alia and the others would occupy the high ground. Utari Joshi came running up and fell in with them. She clutched a scryer¡¯s globe close to her chest. The heat of battle gave them no time to attune the call globes; the watchmen fell back on old-fashioned methods instead. Through her globe Utari would relay situation reports and transmit Palamara¡¯s orders. ¡°What in the Serpent¡¯s Abyss are these dogs thinking?¡± Palamara demanded as they mounted the stairs to the ramparts. With an atrium three stories high, the third level of the barracks permitted defenders to rain fire and death on intruders below. Perhaps pessimistic, the Pegasus Protocol accounted for the potential necessity of taking a roundabout route to the barracks. An assumption which served them well. On the parapet outside, Palamara¡¯s group halted. Three dark shapes moved ahead. Then, the shapes shifted. Silver masks gleamed in the light of the agate moon. Monstrous visages, concealing the true faces of the shadow priests who wore them. Palamara¡¯s cohort included two venatori sorcerers. With a chant and a wave of their hands they hurled a gust of wind, knocking the shadow priests off the parapet and down the hillside. Eventually, a great splash sounded as the priests landed in the sea. But the Watchmen were already on the move. Five steps from the door, and everyone halted. Copper smoke swirled forth in front of them. Three shadow priests appeared. Alia stepped forward, her naked moonbow knives glowing softly in her hands. Sure sign of the presence of Erebossan agents. The knives glowed brighter still when she held them out to the intruders. Blinded, the men were helplesswhen Palamara and two of his officers shot them down. ¡°Reload!¡± Palamara called out. With sure, quick hands the soldiers did as commanded. Once inside the barracks again, they beheld the brutal handiwork of the Lords of Chaos. Bleeding bodies were scattered to and fro on the floor. Fallen watchmen. A manticore dominated the center of the courtyard, shooting paralyzing darts from its tail. The tail alone kept the living watchmen at bay. Unchecked, the shadow priests carried on with their ritual. Archers of the Watch stepped forward. Their opposite number had made it to the opposite balcony, and now they could work in tandem. ¡°What are those shadow priests doing?¡± Parth, one of the sharpshooters, wondered aloud. The wheelock in his hands was a classic edition of the Dragon¡¯s Tongue model from Hurik & Sung¡¯s Firelance series. He would fire after the archers did; the shooters staggered their attacks to give the gunmen time to reload. ¡°Ignore the manticore and aim for the priests,¡± Alia ordered the archers closest to her. ¡°Stop them from summoning an arsh¡¯at?m.¡± In vain they fired, their arrows bouncing harmlessly off the shield which shimmered into place at last second, protecting the priests. A man amidst the priests capered about in obvious triumph. Shadow sorcerer. Altogether, six men clad in grotesque silver masks continued their ritual. Only the manticore subsided; the shield would not allow its barbs to penetrate outward. Stalemate? Alia turned to Utari. ¡°Are the Salamandra in place?¡± She was already forming a counterattack in her mind. Per the Protocol, units bearing Salamandra would either be on the ground or the second story of the atrium. Exactly what she needed. Utari¡¯s gaze was fixed on her globe as she listened intently to the report a distant scryer relayed. ¡°Ready.¡± This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Ask the Salamandra to fire on the shield. Tell the huntsmen to stand by to petrify the survivors.¡± Alia glanced at Palamara, who nodded his confirmation. The knowing expression on his face gave assurance he anticipated her next move. Alia turned to the archers. ¡°Again. On my command. Utari, let the others know.¡± Utari spoke rapidly into her globe, relaying Alia¡¯s orders to her counterpart across the atrium. The air warmed, a breeze lifted their hair, and a red glow bloomed: the Salamandra had joined the battle. Fire ringed the shield. Unlike a natural fire, stone was no deterrent, though Alia suspected the flames latched onto the magical barrier instead. Soon enough the fire would burn away the shield ¡­ but probably not before an arsh¡¯at?m arrived. Fortunately, she had a plan. The archers readied their arrows. Alia clutched her amulet, using it as a focus as she chanted her prayer. The prayer ended with a blessing, which Alia sang in a clear, high voice. White light coated the tips of the archers¡¯ arrows when she finished her song. From below, a shout rang out. ¡°Bring us your battle priestess! Forfeit her blood or forfeit your souls!¡± one of the shadow sorcerers cried. Ice water filled her belly. She was the target? But of course. Priests almost never served as Watchmen, and ¡®battle priests¡¯ never did. The latter type either operated alone or in groups of other priests, but directly answering to their local temples. Joining the Watchmen was not Alia¡¯s first choice, either, but necessity obliged her to throw in her lot with them. The position of Watch-Huntress granted her authority and resources to take down Junius. But¡ªwere the shadow agents below working on criminal motives, or religious ones? Did they see her as their spiritual enemy? Or were they motivated by spite because she arrested their allies and made war on them? Then again, there was no reason they couldn¡¯t have two motives. Beside her, Palamara stiffened. He and Sheridan immediately shifted position, getting in front of her and blocking her from view. ¡°What do they want with you?¡± Parth asked. He moved up beside Sheridan, as the archers did. ¡°Revenge,¡± Alia said coldly. A nimbus of copper swirled below the feet of the shadow priests. A portal. Alia took a deep breath and refocused. She eyed Utari and the archers again. ¡°Ready? Now!¡± she commanded. This time when fired, their arrows penetrated the shield, finding their targets. The shield dissipated. All but one of the shadowmen fell dead. An eerie scream echoed as five arrows embedded themselves into the manticore¡¯s flesh. Though the monster remained on his feet, Alia counted it lost; the sorcerers¡¯ spells were already working. The ground shifted, and for a moment the stones liquified. They slithered, wrapping around the legs of the remaining shadow priest and his pet, binding them in place. Stone covered the priest from his feet to his waist. The evil tail of the manticore was not spared, only the its neck and head remained free. The priest laughed like a madman. The sharpshooters moved forward, the archers moved back. Palamara made a cutting gesture at his throat. The sharpshooters fired, killing the manticore and the laughing shadow priest. ¡°Infernals,¡± Utari whispered. She was staring into her globe. ¡°Sir, we have infernal incursions in the east block.¡± ¡°A distraction,¡± Palamara replied, speaking their thoughts aloud. Which explained why the shadow priests had made the obvious tactical error of entering the courtyard. Palamara issued new orders, for a contingent to hold the atrium. ¡°The tactic is a pointless waste,¡± Sheridan observed. ¡°Why put themselves in a position to die so easily, just to distract us? Couldn¡¯t the manticore do that by itself?¡± Exactly so, and Alia suspected what they were up to. Forfeit your souls, the priest had threatened. ¡°Captain, hold!¡± Alia said, grabbing Palamara¡¯s arm. The move jerked him back. ¡°Ironwing?¡± Alia gestured to the bodies of the shadow agents. Tendrils of smoke arose from their corpses. A natural result ¡­ if Salamandra fire cooked them before death. But they did not die by fire¡­ ¡°Have our sorcerers shield them again. They need to trap Erebossi now,¡± Alia commanded. Palamara did so, while Alia busied herself. She focused again, her hands trembling as she clutched her amulet. ¡°You don¡¯t have a choice,¡± she whispered to herself. Eyes closed, she concentrated on her task. Aloud she prayed, ¡°O Huntress, your faithful servant requests aid. I beseech you, Exalted One, to lend me your strength: ubarum, al¨ªatim.¡± She held out her moonbow blades. The glyphs etched into them blazed brightly. Wisps of light flew out from the glyphs, over her head. An endless stream flew and swirled over her, until a shape coalesced in front of her. An ethereal glow fell over the group. ¡°The shadow priests were possessed,¡± Alia explained, seeing the awestruck faces of her companions. ¡°Killing the men freed the eidolons they served.¡± She broke off, for the shape had now taken a bodily form. In one bright flash it appeared. Lightning snapped and sizzled in the air. Before them stood a creature which radiated a brilliant white light. Sunlight in human form, or so their minds interpreted it. And the form itself ¡ª pleasing in shape, armored in a cuirass and pteruges of an ethereal metal. Female¡ªan incarnation of the Huntress. The twin falcatas in her hands confirmed it so. Alia and Sheridan were quickest to genuflect, Palamara and the others followed immediately after. Unlike a shadow sorcerer, Alia would not dream to coerce a spirit. The incarnation manifested in answer to her prayer. Now she would make requests, not give commands to the spirit. ¡°The infernals below trespass against the laws of the Exalted One. I ask your assistance¡ª¡± she broke off again, as the spirit raised a weapon to its forehead. It swiped the blade down again, saluting Alia. The spirit vanished, and quickly reappeared in the courtyard. ¡°By the See¡ªHuntress,¡± Utari breathed. ¡°Is that a celestial? They can form bodies? You can summon them?¡± She was not alone in staring at Alia in complete astonishment. Only Palamara was unsurprised; he had known her the longest of anyone outside the grove. ¡°You all know she¡¯s a priestess. Don¡¯t look so shocked,¡± Sheridan answered for her. He glanced at Utari. ¡°Warn the others not to kill the shadow priests. That¡¯s what they want, that must be how the Erebossi entered the barracks. Contain, don¡¯t kill them.¡± Palamara turned to the sorcerers. ¡°Go, now. We¡¯ll cover you. Draw them here if you can.¡± Alia fixed her eyes on the courtyard. Loyal to the Huntress, the astral warrior would assist another servant of the Huntress, but Alia had learned an important lesson once: it would not discriminate amongst enemies of the Huntress. Now then, came the chance to learn if all of the Watchmen were true to their oaths. Or did some serve Junius, whose long and slimy tentacles reached many places Alia never expected? Black smoke filled the spirit shield, obscuring the corpses of the shadow sorcerers. For now the shield trapped the abyssals, but only for now. Green light glowed fiercely in the celestial¡¯s eyes. In an otherworldly language the astral warrior cried out as she thrust her swords into the shield. Trapped, the abyssals could not flee from the vortex swirling out of the spirit¡¯s swords. When every abyssal vanished, the shield evaporated. The celestial whirled and strode over to the fallen. Watchmen paralyzed by the manticore lay dying all over the courtyard. The spirit passed her hand over them, healing them at once. Slain watchmen too arose, wherever the celestial fixed her burning gaze upon them. Finally, the celestial came to the double bronze doors of the courtyard. Alia stepped back. The spirit¡¯s intent was clear in her mind: she would head for the east wing, to stop the other Erebossi. Alia turned and ran. As she did, the spirit vanished in a swirl of colorful lights. Undoubtedly in order to reappear where the Erebossi and their lackey priests swarmed the thickest. ¡°Cover her,¡± she heard Sheridan say. Heavy footsteps told her he was following. She didn¡¯t look back, rushing headlong into the corridor. Venatori from her unit and the second unit had already come through, as confirmed by the shadow sorcerer corpses littering the floor. Alia continued on, using the shouts and screams as her guide. She made it down the stairs. ¡°Hey,¡± one of the watchmen said, limping towards her. His rifle served as a makeshift cane. ¡°Hey, huntress.¡± Acknowledging him with a curt nod, she continued on. The last of the other venatori were vanishing into the doorway of the mess hall. The roar behind her barely registered. She took three steps before she suddenly realized what she¡¯d heard. Alia turned back in time to see the black mist, just before it swallowed her. Chapter 10: The Lords of Chaos Chapter X The Lords of Chaos In which Alia bargains for a wayward soul Once again cold stone chilled her back, seeping through her clothes. And cold iron bit into her bare skin. ¡°Awaken, priestess.¡± The man¡¯s voice came from her right. Alia kept her eyes shut. To open them now would oblige her to engage. Which she refused to do, not until she was sure of what she was dealing with. Instead, she forced herself to remain calm. Heat warmed her face. Lights must be overhead, she judged. Blinding lights, if she were to open her eyes in her current position. She listened. Footsteps. Two. No, three. Three people in the room with her. She corrected herself: three moving people. Someone else could be there, someone sitting quietly and watching. And what else? A scent. Rank, like an animal¡¯s. Metal scraping on wood, as if someone were dragging a chain against the floor ¡­ or restrained an animal. And finally, the hum. A strange hum, but not unfamiliar, and it was the only thing that reassured her. Certain that she¡¯d gained everything she could from scent, sound, and touch, Alia decided the time had come for sight. She turned her head toward the sound of the voice. She opened her eyes. Two men stared at her. From her left she felt the eyes of the third person, but for the moment she concentrated on the first two. They stared expectantly at her. ¡°At last, the wait is over,¡± the taller of the two snapped. ¡°We don¡¯t have all night, do we now?¡± Alia didn¡¯t answer. Sarcasm didn¡¯t require a response, and she was unmoved by it. Coldly she studied him. He was one of the lighthouse workers, part of Gavin¡¯s staff. Anaxander. The same one who attacked Shahin? If so, he was a shadow priest, and she needed to be on her guard. Although, he appeared to be a most unremarkable fellow. Grey-brown hair, sallow-faced, thickening around the middle. New bags under his eyes; perhaps fear of flayers robbed him of rest. ¡°Do you have an appointment, Anaxander?¡± Alia asked. Though Anaxander flinched, perhaps startled she knew his name, his companion remained focused. ¡°As if you don¡¯t know,¡± the shorter man snarled. Same hair, same coloring, but scrawny of skin and bone. So closely did he resemble Anaxander that she guessed they were brothers. The concept of ¡®family resemblance¡¯ had always fascinated her. It was a testament of belonging in a way alien to her. ¡°You will call off your dogs, huntress, or we take your soul.¡± The gravelly voice came from the unseen man to her left. Alia didn¡¯t bother looking his way, she was curious about the other one. True to her suspicions, a fourth man sat quietly in the room. He sat behind a desk, a codex in front of him. Quiet and calm. Was he the leader of the little group? She took him in. Olive skinned, not sallow; svelte, not scrawny. Disciplined. The grey in his hair gave him an air of ¡°distinguished statesman¡± unlike Anaxander¡¯s broke-down bandit look. Alia sighed. Her arms were numb. The iron bit into her wrists. Restricting her circulation. Even if she freed her arms she would be helpless, at least at first. Stratagem, not violence, would grant her freedom. Alia lifted her chin, indicating the quiet man. She held his gaze and matched his silence. A faint smile flickered on his lips as he rose from his seat. Keeping his eyes on her, he made a slow, deliberate bow. ¡°You have come far, huntress,¡± he said when he straightened again. A small laugh escaped her. He paused, his face freezing. Alia looked away from him, satisfied she had knocked him and Anaxander and the short man off guard. Now was a good time to examine the gravelly-voiced man. He was powerfully built, and appeared as young as she. Darker than the others, but not as dark as she. Long black hair curved over his shoulders. In the light his hair took on blue highlights. Anger radiated off of him, from the set of his face to every line in his body. Alia turned her head now, back to the leader. ¡°Is there something about this situation that amuses you, huntress?¡± Dryly she replied, ¡°I have an inappropriate sense of humor. Don¡¯t mind me. Really.¡± She smiled and cleared her throat. ¡°Though I think your¡ªwhat is he, your son? Nephew? Son-in-law? Anaxander, you have been rude.¡± This time Anaxander¡¯s brow furrowed. Still confused? Good. In the early days of her life in Ebon Cove, Alia discovered she threw off many people in conversation. Eventually the chrysopteron patiently explained she was inappropriate. Her reactions didn¡¯t always align with the emotions she was expected to have, and people didn¡¯t like that. Now, she was sure her captors were expecting her to be afraid. So, she was amused, and they were the ones uncertain. And worried. Worry loomed in the eyes of Anaxander¡¯s brother. Anaxander exchanged a look with his brother, and glanced back at the quiet man. ¡°Rude?¡± he squawked. ¡°Did you think I didn¡¯t know your rules? When strangers meet, introductions are made. I am known to you, you are known to me, but what of your father? Your brother? And this man, your bodyguard? Rude, rude, rude.¡± She dipped her head to the leader. ¡°I am Alia Ironwing, honorable old man whose name I do not know.¡± The man folded his arms. Anaxander¡¯s brother interjected, ¡°We all know who you are, huntress.¡± Alia arched an eyebrow. ¡°Should I feel insulted? You say huntress as though it were an insult. Are you a heathen from some barbaric backwater?¡± The waft of air to her left warned her that the ¡®bodyguard¡¯ was advancing. Strong fingers clamped her neck before she could turn to see him. He squeezed. Alia allowed herself to go limp, but her expression revealed her indifference. Killing her was not an option, and she knew it, and saw no reason not to let them know she knew it. Besides, the brute with his hands on her neck was not in charge. The old man was. And what would he say? Her sight dimmed. Any minute now, she would pass out. ¡°Let her go,¡± the old man commanded. He reminded her of Palamara, effortlessly exuding authority without raising his voice. The pressure didn¡¯t ease. The old man cleared his throat, and only then did the bodyguard remove his hand from her neck. For several seconds Alia simply coughed. After a while she cleared her throat, eying Anaxander with disfavor. ¡°So a barbaric backwater after all,¡± she rasped. The old man jerked his head. Footsteps sounded, receding from her hearing. Apparently, the bodyguard was being banished. However, he moved in the opposite direction of the door, so Alia must still count him in her plans. ¡°Apologies, Lady Ironwing. Or is it Huntress Ironwing?¡± the old man paused for her response. ¡°Either is considered respectful, amongst Lyrcanians,¡± Alia replied, employing the soothing tone her etiquette teacher used. The man¡¯s lips quirked. He bowed again, and came around the desk. ¡°You misunderstand, Lady Ironwing. We are not barbarians, though I don¡¯t blame you for thinking so. All of this is most uncivilized.¡± He made a sweeping gesture, encompassing her from head to toe. She supposed the chains were included. ¡°That is my understanding as well,¡± Alia agreed. She waited. Any minute now, the old man would show her why she should be afraid of him instead of the bodyguard. By now they understood Anaxander did not impress her, nor did the brute, and the old man needed her to be impressed. Of a certainty Alia believed the old man required her to be afraid, for whatever plan of his. One other thing she firmly believed: these men were members of the Lords of Chaos. She remembered the roar. The limping man, who¡¯d posed as a huntsman. Clearly he committed suicide with his gun. Unleashing the infernal. The thought made her blood cold. That particular infernal was perhaps more powerful than the ones the ritualists had summoned for their soul cutting. Those had fled from her, after she invoked the Huntress and unsheathed her moonbow blades. Perhaps the infernal who ambushed her counted on the element of surprise? Unlikely, with such high stakes for the shadow man, who would not have given his life so readily if he thought her a match for an agent of Erebossa. The old man¡¯s cold eyes swept over her in open calculation. ¡°Lady Huntress. I wish no violence. Give me your word you will not attack, and I will have Anaxander release you. How does that sound?¡± As though to think it over, Alia allowed the silence to stretch. Finally she replied, ¡°I will reciprocate kindness for kindness.¡± At a nod and a gesture from his leader, Anaxander moved. Quickly his brother followed. They flanked Alia, Anaxander on her right and his brother at her feet. This was how she discovered her ankles had been bound as well; she hadn¡¯t felt the manacles through her boots. The minute the men freed her, Alia let out another sigh. However, she remained motionless, waiting for the tingles to stop. Once she could move her arms with purpose, she began to massage first one, then the other wrist. When the pain faded to a dull ache she slowly sat up. Her back complained, but one thing at a time, she told herself. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. She made a show of flexing her toes, a suitable excuse to see whether she still carried her moonbow knives. To her surprise the knives were still in their sheaths, strapped to her thighs. Only her Dragon Pearl IV had been removed. Confirmation her abductors were shadow priests. They would be loath to touch divine weapons. Finally she stretched her arms, taking the opportunity to pinpoint the dragging sound. Ah. A cage in the left corner of what she realized was a temple sanctuary. Heavy fabric draped over the cage concealed its mysterious inhabitant. Whatever resided in the cage was very much awake; it moved restlessly, dragging its chains. She judged she had tested the mens¡¯ patience long enough. ¡°Well?¡± ¡°Shall we speak of threats, Mistress Ironwing?¡± the old man asked. ¡°That depends,¡± Alia answered. ¡°How long have I been here?¡± Again she put them off-balance. Seeing the wheels turning in their minds almost made her laugh. The old man blinked. Anaxander and his brother kept looking from her to themselves again, as if they were trying to reassure themselves of something. ¡°We have not kept you here for days, if that is your worry, Mistress Ironwing. But if you¡¯re trying to find out how quickly your people can find you, I¡¯m afraid that won¡¯t be soon at all,¡± the old man replied. ¡°Allow me to clarify,¡± Alia said, holding up her hand. ¡°I am not concerned about my people. I want to know how long I have been here. That is all.¡± ¡°Inside an hour, perhaps. Why does that matter?¡± Alia nodded to herself. So. The hum grew louder. Hope was not so foolish for her to have, after all. ¡°Speak on,¡± she said. ¡°Of your threats and such. Go.¡± Anaxander¡¯s brother leaned over to him and said, ¡°Why is she acting as if she¡¯s going to just walk out of here? Like we¡¯re no threat to her? Is it because we¡¯re going to die¡ª?¡± Anaxander cuffed his brother¡¯s ear. Alia watched them with interest. Long ago she learned it paid to trigger arguments between her suspects, for they revealed much when shouting at each other. Unfortunately, the old man gave them a searing look, and they subsided. ¡°Immortal one,¡± the old man resumed. ¡°You threaten my people with a most terrible death. To be eaten alive? How is that a just thing for you to inflict on us?¡± It was Alia¡¯s turn to choose her words with care. ¡°This is about the flayers? I believe there¡¯s been a misunderstanding. They¡¯re only targeting the people who have participated in crimes against the daughters of the Huntress. What ever could that have to do with you? Be at your ease, the lot of you, and sleep well in your beds tonight.¡± The old man started to reply, when Anaxander¡¯s brother blurted, ¡°But you said you¡¯d only protect the people who came to you!¡± ¡°Ohhhh. So you are involved in that business. Well.¡± ¡°Anaxander.¡± The old man¡¯s tone was dangerous. Anaxander¡¯s blow was harder this time, knocking his brother flat on the ground. He didn¡¯t give his brother time to recover, collaring the scrawny man to yank him back to his feet. Swiftly came his punch to his brother¡¯s midsection. The breath knocked out of him, the little man collapsed on the floor, gasping desperately. Which gave Anaxander the opportunity to kick him right in the teeth. ¡°Enough,¡± Alia said sharply. She shuddered, unwilling and unable to hide her disgust. Not that it mattered. Death was imminent for these men; all she wished was for them to make themselves useful to her while they still lived. She stared at the old man and her expression hardened. ¡°Let me save you time,¡± she said. ¡°You want me to call off the flayers. But, gentlemen, I am a huntress, and the idea of letting you go unpunished for your acts against the dryads is not on the table. You will pay for that. Unless¡ªI am allowed to show mercy. If you are offering to walk away, break off your crimes against the dryads, and turn in those who persist in hunting them, I will see to it that the flayers do not extract your skin and bones. Otherwise, I don¡¯t think we have anything to talk about.¡± ¡°You may have suborned those traitors¡ª¡± It was the bodyguard, but the old man cut him off with a hiss. The old man demanded, ¡°And if you are dead, how will the flayers arrive? Who else will summon them?¡± ¡°Another misunderstanding. You are consistent. But the flayers aren¡¯t arriving because I summoned them. They are arriving, as I said, because of the crimes done against the dryads. Perhaps they are servants of the Huntress. Might they be Her enforcers? Shall we ask them?¡± ¡°Call them off, priestess, or you too will be separated from your flesh and bones.¡± ¡°No,¡± she snapped. Her eyes narrowed. ¡°You serve your gods. I serve mine. You will die serving yours; I am willing to die serving mine. How could it be otherwise, when we are both of us priests? So you know better than to threaten me. Don¡¯t play games. There¡¯s no time for that.¡± The hum was not quite loud enough to keep her from hearing his answer. Yet loud enough to make her struggle to divide her attention. The sneer was pronounced in both his voice and his expression. ¡°The boy you took after the ritual? He was one of ours. We looked after him, while he was rotting away on the streets, right in sight of your temples.¡± ¡°The boy?¡± A pit of dread cracked open in her stomach. The old man strode over to the curtains and yanked one end, sending the fabric cascading to the floor. Alia jumped to her feet. The curtains had concealed two cages. In one paced a leukrokotta. The beast snarled at the cage and whipped its head about, chafing at the chains around its neck. The second cage held the boy. Bound and gagged, he had eyes only for the leukrokotta. ¡°Ever so predictable, huntress: you took this boy to your temple. Of course. Because what better place for him? Would it ever occur to you to take him anywhere else? Are you capable of imagining why taking him to your temple was a bad idea? What happens next will be on your head.¡± Yes indeed, she was capable of imagining exactly what he intended: the monster would devour the boy, and then it would be set loose on the grounds of the fane. Where it would no doubt lure guards and priests and acolytes alike with false cries for help. ¡°So, your people get eaten, and therefore you think mine should be eaten,¡± Alia noted. ¡°Yes, you have made a more plausible threat.¡± She allowed herself to look worried while she pondered her next move. Could she spare the boy? True, she hadn¡¯t imagined him as a willing participant in the ritual. Given his age she assumed the men duped or coerced him. Killing a beardless youth ¡­ her stomach turned at the thought. Yet, though the boy was not a man, he was still old enough to know right from wrong. But¡ªif he had been orphaned or abandoned, if the shadow priests had taken him in, he might be misguided and acting out of a sense of misplaced loyalty. On their trip to the temple he seemed so remorseful. Or had she misread him? Maybe the remorse was because he thought he¡¯d let down the group he¡¯d thrown his lot in with. ¡°For our sake, the boy will die. Isn¡¯t that right? Precisely as you said, huntress,¡± the old man spat. He reached into the boy¡¯s cage and patted his head. The boy squeezed his eyes shut. Tears slid down his cheeks. Alia¡¯s own eyes stung a bit. Nevertheless, she clenched her jaw. No matter what, she must do her job. And the answers she sought were imminent. One way or the other, she¡¯d learn the boy¡¯s disposition. Alia stalked over to the cage. Deliberately she got into the old man¡¯s space, forcing him to back up. ¡°Young man,¡± she addressed the boy. ¡°I believe you said your name is Mahzun? And I trust you have not forgotten me. What is your wish, Mahzun? Tell me, and I will make it so.¡± She unsheathed one of her Huntress blades. The old man gave a start, as did the other three men, but Alia ignored them. With a deft hand she cut the gag, and the ropes around the youth¡¯s wrists. She sheathed her knife again and stepped back. The boy blinked up at her. He used his newfound freedom of movement to wedge himself in the furthest corner he could get from the leukrokotta. He drew his knees up to his chin, and looked from Alia to the old man in obvious confusion. ¡°You said her people were the real enemies,¡± the boy said accusingly. ¡°You said you¡¯d be my family but you weren¡¯t! But you¡¯re going to let this thing eat meeeee! And trick all those people who were nice to me.¡± Mahzun sobbed, his body shaking so hard he rattled the bars of his cage. Summoning her inner Rikka, Alia gave the old man her most withering stare. ¡°Have you forgotten what it is to be young? He doesn¡¯t want to die for you. Or your cause. Apparently, you have not indoctrinated him sufficiently. Like all young people, he wants to live. And if you want me to call off the flayers, then that is my price: his life.¡± Anaxander smirked. ¡°Predictable.¡± Alia eyed her Dragon Pearl IV, still resting on the desk. The old man said, ¡°Fine, Priestess Ironwing. You will have your price. As soon as we have proof¡ª¡± ¡°I am not in the business of trusting men like you. Let the boy go now, or forget it.¡± She pressed a hand against her temple. The hum was starting to give her a headache. For Mahzun¡¯s sake you better hold on. After a moment the old man shrugged, and eyed her with contempt. Undoubtedly, he believed he successfully duped her. Good. ¡°Anaxander,¡± the old man said, turning his back on Alia and walking back to his desk. The Dragon Pearl IV gleamed in the glowlights. Naturally, for she always kept the gold dragon barrel polished. Serafina¡¯s father was a fine gunsmith, and it showed. Now at last Alia admitted to herself that her real reluctance to have her gun converted to the modern style was because she was worried no other gunsmith would match Hurik¡¯s craftsmanship. Contrary to her upbringing she was being dangerously sentimental, and she mentally rebuked herself for it. How could she hope to destroy the shadow queen if she didn¡¯t commit to doing everything possible to hunt it down? Would the Huntress still use a self-bow if a rifle were at hand? The jangle of keys brought Alia out of her reverie. Anaxander was making a show of finding the right key as he lingered in front of Mahzun¡¯s cage. ¡°We took you in. You cast your lot in with us, you took vows. And now, at the moment of truth you wimp out.¡± Anaxander made a sound of disgust in his throat. Alia rolled her eyes, making sure that Mahzun saw it. On no account could she allow Mahzun to remain frozen in fear. The boy must not still be here when she needed him to be gone. Showing her open disdain disdain for Anaxander might deflate whatever fears the boy had about him. Or better still, give him courage. The cage door swung open. Anaxander stepped back. As she expected Mahzun hesitated, but Alia gave him an encouraging nod. The boy crawled forward. When he reached the door, he hesitated again. Alia held out her hand. Fortunately Mahzun was quick to grip her hand tightly in return, and she pulled him to his feet. He stumbled, obviously sore from staying in a cramped position in a small cage. ¡°Go to my temple or not, it is your choice. Your life is yours,¡± Alia told him. The boy¡¯s arm trembled as she tightened her grip. Eyes wide, he stared at her, ensuring she had his attention when she lowered her voice and added, ¡°Your life, and the freedom to live it as you will, is the gift I give to you. If you harm the dryads or their servants again, or aid those who do, I will take back that gift. Is that clear?¡± Mahzun gaped at her, then his eyes dropped. She clenched her teeth, hard-pressed in her battle of wills between herself and the presence in her mind. Fortunately, Mahzun did not drive her past the point of endurance. ¡°Yes, huntress. Thank you,¡± he mumbled. She released him, and he ran. He fled the room, glancing back only once. Alia pointed to the scrawny man. ¡°You. Get up and make sure Mahzun gets out safely. Do you have doubts about your fate if he does not?¡± The scrawny man staggered to his feet and shuffled off, sniffling loudly as he went. While the others watched him go, Alia used the opportunity to ready herself. ¡°So it¡¯s done,¡± the old man said when the scrawny one passed the threshold and his footsteps receded from their hearing. He started forward again. Away from her gun. Alia sighed, pleased the old man would not have it in his hands. ¡°Do you have a scryer? I want to see the boy leave here safely.¡± Casually, she strolled over to the door. Stalling. ¡°I am done indulging you, huntress,¡± the old man declared. The bodyguard left his punishment corner, and now all three men stood before her. Any one of them could easily force her into the cage, hence her moving away from it. Right outside the cage was the lever which would remove the partition between the leukrokrotta¡¯s cage and the one Mahzun had just exited. The trick they planned to use Mahzun for would work handily with Alia instead. Except she still had one bit of leverage: they were ignorant of her treaty with the flayers, which meant they believed they needed her. The cage would be for after. At least, that was their plan. ?I am here, servant of the Huntress.? ?Her will be done,? Alia answered. The old man smoldered. Bold, defiant, Alia raised her chin. Once more she played the inappropriate gambit as she closed her eyes. The chimes rang clear and pure, and the afterimage on her inner eyelids assured Alia the men were now blinded by a glorious light. The astral warrior had arrived. Chapter 11: Aftermath XI Aftermath In which Alia picks up the scent of her enemies Alia opened her eyes when the screaming started. The astral cut down Anaxander first. Thank the Huntress he was not possessed, which made one less problem to deal with. Nor did the old man present a problem. Though he tried to flee Alia lashed out, unsheathing her knife in a fluid gesture that ended with a slash to his jugular. Reserving the brute for the celestial warrior, who took him down with ridiculous ease. Alia stopped only to reclaim her gun, sheathing it in her holster. Together the huntress and the astral exited the sanctuary. To Alia¡¯s relief she saw no sign of either Mahzun or Anaxander¡¯s brother. Satisfied, she gave herself over to the battle, which began the moment the shadow priests spotted the warrior. The servants of Erebossa lacked all mettle, attempting to flee in abject terror. But the relentless spirit guardian allowed no escape, and Alia acted as the rearguard. With their eyes fixed on the celestial the men failed to notice Alia until it was too late. None made it past her, and the same was true of the warrior. The champion of the Huntress unerringly found any who tried to hide, and Alia intercepted any who tried to run. When it was over, Alia stood alone in a temple full of bodies. The astral warrior saluted her once more before it vanished. Alia sagged against a wall, spent. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. As her mind settled down from the heat of battle, she began to tally her tasks. The temple would have to be destroyed. First priority. Correction: First was searching out any intelligence the Lords of Chaos left behind that would lead her to the name of the their infernal mistress. Don¡¯t linger here. The astral¡¯s voice in her mind was congruent with her own instincts, which strengthened her resolve to obey. Back inside the sanctuary, Alia stripped the old man of his signet ring. A search through his desk yielded up empty vials. She filled one with the blood of the old man. Alia went through each room, systematically searching out corpses whose clothes marked them as a priest. Whenever she found one, she claimed his blood and tied his signet ring to the vial. Oh, and the tomes! In the library she found several blood codices. The fifth codex proved Shahin¡¯s claim about the Lords of Chaos tracking bloodlines. His name was written at the top of one page. Just as he said, he did have a sister, Zhaleh. And Zhaleh did have a son. Just as he claimed. Alia frowned. What did the Lords of Chaos want with the sorcerers they were tracking? The notes in the margins gave her the first inkling. One question she did not have: the codices were bound in human flesh. The inscription on the first page of each codex named the person the skin had belonged to. Apparently, the Lords of Chaos liked to memorialize their fallen in this macabre fashion. Alia¡¯s stomach turned. She put the slim volume in her satchel, then began looking through the other volumes. These contained the bloodlines of the Lords of Chaos themselves, confirming for her who was and wasn¡¯t in league with the shadow priests. Unmistakable evidence to bring to the archons. Her search ended with the call globe she found in the sumptuous quarters of the high priest. Whose portrait revealed him to be the old man she had been dealing with. Beside the call globe, the man kept a list of signs and names next to it. How thoughtful of him, she mused, and pocketed the list. Outside, she scrutinized the temple. Architecturally, it resembled an ordinary mansion of wood and stone, but mostly wood. Fire should destroy it inside of an hour. The path to the street was long and winding, and lined with cassia trees. At the end of the lane she encountered Anaxander¡¯s brother, cowering behind one of the trees. He trembled and cried out in terror when he saw Alia. Alia eyed him for a long moment. Her smile was cold. ¡°Come with me.¡±
The watchmen were clearing away the bodies when Alia finally returned. ¡°Ironwing!¡± Palamara shouted from across the great hall. ¡°Where have you been?¡± He barreled into her and embraced her in a fierce hug. ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you, too,¡± she gasped when she regained her breath. Palamara stepped back and looked her over. Seeing that she still had her bits attached, he hugged her again. ¡°A shadow priest abducted me,¡± she said when he released her. When she finished explaining what happened, Palamara ordered an officer to take Anaxander¡¯s brother ¡ª Alexander ¡ª to a cell, to be held for questioning later. ¡°You look dead on your feet, Ironwing. Come.¡± Clapping an arm over her shoulders he led her to his office, and obliged her to sit. He spared a moment to summon Sheridan. ¡°Your pup was most upset to discover you missing. At first we thought you must have been caught up in the thick of things, but we didn¡¯t realize you were missing until the astral vanished and wasn¡¯t reported anywhere else in the Watch.¡± ¡°Did it take care of the Erebossi agents here?¡± ¡°Oho, did it ever,¡± Palamara answered. He gave her plum wine and opened a small cache of sweet treats he kept in his desk. Exhausted though she was, Alia allowed herself a small moment to indulge his hospitality. The little lotus seed buns Palamara gave her tasted a little richer than usual, but she suspected her senses were heightened after the night she¡¯d had. ¡°Get some rest after this. Consider it an order,¡± Palamara said when they finished eating, wiping his fingers on a napkin. ¡°Is there anything I need to know right now?¡± Dawn light was filtering through the sheers. Alia groaned softly; her noontime appointment with the flayers didn¡¯t leave much room for sleep. She pulled out the list of call globe addresses, and the blood codex with the family trees of the Lords of Chaos. ¡°These were in the stronghold of the Lords of Chaos. Along with other things, but those can wait. I want to know the extent of their network. Not least of all who else might come looking for revenge.¡± ¡°Agreed,¡± Palamara said, accepting the list and the book. ¡°Now off with you, Alia. Your astral friend healed anyone in its path, so we don¡¯t have as many losses as we might. Take a breather in the officer¡¯s quarters.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t rest long. I have to be in the market square at noon.¡± ¡°Alia¡ª¡± She smiled, a rare enough event that she knew it would stop his scolding before it started. ¡°Eskander, I don¡¯t need to be cosseted. I will rest. But I need to be there to fulfill the treaty, remember?¡± ¡°Right, of course,¡± Palamara relented. ¡°Yes. After what¡¯s been happening these past few weeks, we need to show people the danger is unequivocally past. Moreso after what went down here tonight. Very well. Let it be so.¡±
By high noon the Watch had cleared a perimeter in the market square, which attracted a good deal of attention. Murmurs turned to open chatter when the Restorites showed up. The healers arrived at Alia¡¯s request, and stood in the midst of the square. Merchants who kept stalls in that part of the market were the only ones silent. Their protests died the moment the Watchmen told them the unfolding events were by command of the priestess who faced the flayers. They kept a respectful distance, and no one attempted to break through the shield the Watch¡¯s sorcerers set up. For public narrative purposes ¡ª so Serafina taught Alia ¡ª Palamara was still wearing his plate armor. Deliberately not polished, but rather looking just as it ought to for a warrior freshly come from vanquishing his enemies in battle. Combined with the bags under his eyes, his small speech took on a heightened air of gravitas as he acknowledged the rapidly spreading news of an attack on the Watch. However, the crowd must wait for him to answer questions ¡°when this is all over,¡± he said. A heat haze glimmered, right between the watchmaker¡¯s stall and a leather goods kiosk. Suddenly, three men collapsed in a heap on the stones, as though dropped from above. The absolute silence of the crowd meant all heard the groans of the men. The newcomers moved listlessly, in obvious exhaustion. After a bit of fumbling they managed to roll themselves free of each other. Revealing they each lacked a right foot. This prompted a new wave of murmuring from the crowd, accompanied by finger pointing and wild gesticulating. The Restorites flanked Alia as she stepped forward. In soothing tones she said, ¡°Firat? Arsenius? Basil? I am Watch-Huntress Alia Ironwing. Restorites are with me; they¡¯ll take care of you. Do you understand?¡± The nearest man lay at her feet. The once-magnificent finery he wore was now ripped and soiled, and he himself reeked as if he hadn¡¯t bathed in weeks. Which made sense, given he¡¯d been abducted over a month ago. Dull eyes met hers without any sign of seeing her. Arsenius. A carousing tavern owner who used his business as a front for less savory activities. Junius and his associates met in Arsenius¡¯ place because it was thick with their kind of thieves. Arsenius blinked as if the light hurt his eyes. ¡°Wha¡ª? Where?¡± Alia made soothing noises. Her glance kept straying to the men¡¯s missing feet. Ripped, jagged bone served as proof each man¡¯s foot was torn off, not cut cleanly. Would the flayers have eaten the men piece by piece? Horror froze her blood when she realized she never negotiated to get the men back whole. Guilt chased her horror. An honest killing was one thing; if the men had taken part in the attack on the Watch she would have killed them without hesitation. But the brutality inflicted on these men was altogether different. Gratuitous savagery disgusted her, and she reflexively grimaced as the emotion overtook her. At least the Restorites could restore the mens¡¯ lost limbs. Even so, part of her wondered if the men were mutilated to punish her. The flayer made it clear it wished to strike back at her, and she had made no attempt to mollify it. She never imagined the flayer might displace its anger onto the hostages in hand. Would someone more adept at diplomacy have avoided bringing this atrocity on the men? ¡°Oh dear Huntress,¡± she prayed, her voice low. ¡°May it be that no one else suffers because of my deficiencies.¡± Aloud she said, ¡°These men are going to take you now. They¡¯ll help you. Don¡¯t be frightened.¡± With a gesture from her the healers stepped forward with their stretchers. Chanting Restorite sorcerers lifted their hands and cast their spells, and within three heartbeats an indigo cloud enveloped the men. Alia turned to address the crowd. ¡°The flayers swore to me their attacks are at an end. As a show of good faith, they have returned these men, whom they abducted. You should all be safe now, but if you have any concerns do not hesitate to seek us out at the Watch.¡± Of course, this caused an uproar. Questions from the crowd intermingled with the cheers bombarding her. Palamara took over. ¡°By now you¡¯ve heard about the attack on the Watch, which took place after midnight this past night. Shadow priests were responsible. And they¡¯ve paid the price.¡± He let that remark hang in the air, and Alia noted how the crowd sized him up. And her. In her priestly attire she, too, looked formidable and regal, adding glamour to Palamara¡¯s words. ¡°The Watch remains as strong as ever,¡± Palamara continued. ¡°We will not permit either flayers or lawless brigands to rove over this city and terrorize its people. Be assured that we stand guard always, and always will.¡± This got him a thunderous round of applause. But as the crowds dispersed, they proved too thick to allow a quick escape. Just as well then, because Falconer Tahm, one of high-ranking priests of the Huntress, was in the crowd as well. Tooled-leather gauntlets bossed with silver marked him out as belonging to the falconry branch of huntsman, and the gold-topped staff bearing the head of the golden eagle-signaled he was a priest. The grey-haired man intercepted Alia as she made her way through the throng. ¡°It is done,¡± he whispered. Before returning to the Watch at dawn, Alia stopped at Gryphon¡¯s Rock, the fane of the Huntress. Ensconced in the inner chambers of the fane, she confided in Tahm about the shadow priests¡¯ temple, and what she and the astral did there. To him she left the choice to cleanse or destroy the shadow temple. ¡°Thank you. And the boy?¡± She had steeled herself for news of Mahzun slipping back onto the streets. How could Mahzun be strong against soul-cutting men like the Lords of Chaos if he had no one to guide him? Falconer Tahm smiled. ¡°Back with us again. This time, he¡¯s more receptive to our teachings. However, he won¡¯t talk about what happened.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t push him,¡± Alia warned. ¡°This is a delicate time, not¡ª¡± The elder priest smiled again and patted her shoulder. ¡°Alia. The caretaking of orphans and urchins is not a new endeavor for me. Trust me, the boy will find a home with us.¡± He melted away into the crowd. Alia made her own exit. Sheridan fell in with her, and they left the market square with haste. Waiting for them on the street outside the square were a group of red-lacquered gharries¡ªhorse-drawn carriages. Selecting a gharry with the Watch¡¯s seal, Alia climbed aboard and Sheridan followed. Though he kept silent on the ride, he glanced at her more than she thought warranted. What was on his mind? ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°The astral,¡± Sheridan said promptly. ¡°If you find the queen, could you summon the astral to kill it for us?¡± A tempting idea. ¡°Erebossi can¡¯t be killed, Sheridan. They can only be sent back to their own realms in Erebossa. As for the astral, I only asked the Huntress to send us aid because I feared we would be overwhelmed by the abyssals within the shadow priests. I was unwilling to risk the shadow priests making good on their threat to take the souls of the other Watchmen.¡± Sheridan mulled it over, lapsing into silence. They came to a stop, Alia having reached the foundry she sought. Earlier she had asked around about Yun, the gunsmith she¡¯d met in the pavilion, and learned he had earned an excellent reputation for himself. Several officers swore by the quality of his guns, and praised their reliability. They suggested she drop their names to get herself a discount. ¡°Ahh, huntress! You¡¯ve come to take me up on my offer?¡± Yun waved a pair of tongs at her, beckoning her to come further into his shop. Alia unsheathed her gun. ¡°How long will this take you to convert it?¡± ¡°Pick it up later tonight. What about your friend?¡± Sheridan gave a start of surprise. He had already returned the gun he borrowed from Serafina. Of his personal weapons, he owned no side arm other than a long knife. A grievous disadvantage for him, and as her apprentice it was her duty to properly outfit him. The young man grew up in the wilds, using either bows or his knife. Sometimes he hunted with a falcon, he told her, but two-legged opponents never crossed him until he came to the city. Such mundane threats as cutpurses and cutthroats never required more than his knife. In the days ahead, Sheridan was going to need every edge possible, and one did not need to be a prophet to foresee that. ¡°Let¡¯s see what you have.¡± Sheridan flushed with obvious excitement. His eyes grew big when Alia fingered her purse, tacit permission to disregard the price of Yun¡¯s wares. In the end Sheridan chose a pistol for last resort, and a rifle for when he had advanced warning. Both weapons used a teak stock. Compared to Alia¡¯s Dragon Pearl IV, Sheridan¡¯s pistol was less fancy¡ªno gold dragon muzzle¡ªbut the stock was fitted with pewter embellishments. Back at the Watch, Sheridan resumed their earlier conversation. They walked around the garden, away from prying ears and eyes. A welcome respite; throughout the day Alia found herself on the receiving end of unsettling stares. Whispered conversations ended abruptly whenever she passed by, and not a few officers outright scrutinized her, as though she had two heads or four arms or such. Did she wrong them somehow? Neither her conscience nor her memory supplied her with an answer. No one approached her, but everyone seemed quite biddable whenever she made the smallest request. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t you summon the astral to help us with the queen?¡± Alia chose her words with care. ¡°Summon one as a shadow sorcerer summons Erebossi? The astrals are not our personal servants, so far as I was taught. I called upon the Huntress, and She sent me the astral.¡± ¡°Is it wrong for us to call them? We should only do this for others, not ourselves?¡± ¡°Sorcerers like to flatter themselves that they¡¯re powerful enough to bind a queen abyssal to their service. Fools, every last one of them. Would you order Palamara about like a servant? Do you think he would let you? If he did, do you think it unlikely you would truly be serving his ends? In the Watch, I take orders from Palamara. In the grove I take orders from my mother and my elders. Elsewise, the chrysopteron may give me orders on matters concerning the Huntress. None else may presume to command me. The astrals are not under our command, they are under the command of the gods we call upon: I will not summon them.¡± The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Generally Sheridan was given to long contemplations, so it came as no surprise that he met her response with silence. All the same, Alia felt no need to rush him. ¡°What you say makes sense,¡± he said eventually. He glanced up at her, holding her gaze. ¡°Yet¡ªinviting these beings into the world makes me uneasy. Should we trust them to help us, and will they extract a price? The sorcerers might be right about having debts with infernals. It clarifies matters, that they can¡¯t ask infernal agents for anything without the infernal wanting something in return. But the celestials don¡¯t ask for anything, do they?¡± He leaned against a column engraved with images of Amyntas, the protector of innocents. Alia chose a spot next to him. Together they looked out at the pond, where whistling ducks serenely floated. Alia stared at the chestnut-colored waterfowl as she weighed Sheridan¡¯s words. Four months and the boy was yet a stranger to her. All she knew of him were the broadest details, so singular was her focus on teaching him as a huntsman. Now she wondered if she was failing him in her principal obligation. When Falconer Tahm invited her to a dinner with other high-ranking priests, they presented her a simple task: train up a new apprentice. She had resisted the idea. Her priorities did not allow her time to handhold a fledgling priest. But the chrysopteron, the archpriest of the Huntress, disagreed. ¡°Strange perils are upon us, Ironwing. Omens and warnings bid us to lay upon you this burden: train up an apprentice. The one we will send to you is devout. We trust him to guard your back. And we trust you to train his mind. See to it.¡± Sheridan showed up on her doorstep the next day. Now Alia judged herself derelict in her duty. Reared by the daughters of the Huntress, she learned rare knowledge and wisdom in childhood that most never acquired even in advanced age. To fail to pass on what she learned to other faithful, especially one she was charged with teaching, was insupportable. After a while she said, ¡°Price is not an issue. The celestials are not transactional. Give the Huntress service good and true and you, too, may count on Her aid. A shadow servant could never bring an astral to this world, because they don¡¯t believe in the Huntress. Or the Seeker, or the Restorer or the Reaper or the Sea Lord. Our gifts come from them, and the price of those gifts is obedience to their laws and devotion to their ways. If an astral comes to you, you¡¯ve already paid the price. Do not fear them.¡± One of the messengers jogged into view. He approached them, and came to a stop a few feet away. Shifting from foot to foot, he focused only on Sheridan, though he watched Alia from the corner of his eyes. That was new. ¡°I was t-t-told you wanted to know when a ship arrived. The Obsidian Stinger? It¡¯s here.¡± ¡°Thank you. Return as you will to your other duties.¡± She was not surprised by the look of relief that flashed on his face like lightning. He whirled on his heel and took himself off just as fast. ¡°Do we leave tonight?¡± Alia watched the messenger disappear behind a stand of ornamental grasses. ¡°Be ready, Sheridan. Take the day to put your affairs in order. We have no other business here.¡±
Alia stared gloomily at the vials. Lined up in a rack she¡¯d borrowed from a Restorite sorcerer, the vials¡ªalong with the bottle of ichor¡ªhad been sitting on her desk for the better part of an hour. Quill in hand, she tapped out a listless beat against her desk blotter. The Watch-Restorites told her the returned sorcerers would recover. They drank water drawn from a naiad spring, which restored each man¡¯s missing foot. Restoring their shattered minds was another matter altogether. Brutalized beyond endurance, the men were too shaken to reveal anything useful. Pressing them would be pointless, so Alia didn¡¯t bother. What she already learned from Junius Fellrath¡¯s top men lessened the intelligence value in pressuring the abductees, who were lower ranking to start with. Let the Watch¡¯s lorekeepers have a first crack at them; firsthand experience with the flayers offered some recompense for their misdeeds. Utari came by, another sorcerer in tow: the territorial Watch-Reaper from the other day. ¡°Aric says he can help us,¡± Utari said, supplying the sorcerer¡¯s name. At Alia¡¯s invitation they sat, and she placed her still-empty codex on her desk. She slid it over to Aric, who eyed the book and the vials with disfavor. ¡°I don¡¯t do blood magic,¡± he began. ¡°Just so you know. And a blood codex isn¡¯t something you should mess with.¡± Alia arched an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re not here because your virtue is in question, Aric. Nor am I asking you to go against your conscience. First I want to know if there¡¯s a way to find out if the blood in these vials has been tainted by the ichor of a demon. By this ichor in particular. Do you have reagents or anything I could use for that?¡± Reapers and Restorites tended to be experts in potions. They were called in whenever poisons were suspected in unexpected deaths. However, when Alia asked Palamara who to consult on this, he named Aric without hesitation. The man had a lorekeeper¡¯s exactfulness when it came to identifying not just plants and poisons, but even knowing things like where the plants must have grown or how the poisons might be made. ¡°This codex comes from a sorcerer who has not yet earned my trust,¡± Alia added. ¡°Utari, you sensed nothing amiss about the codex, correct?¡± Experts often found it hard to resist imparting their expertise, as Alia discovered long ago. So, to emphasize she saw the others as colleagues, she approached their talk from the angle of asking for a consultation. She¡¯d heard the whispers throughout the Watch. Her talking to the flayers had been extraordinary enough. Not having grown up amongst humans, Alia hadn¡¯t known how potent the legends were about those creatures. Merely encountering them unscathed was sufficient to make her part of any legends. She ached to reveal that the flayers had only behaved themselves with her because of Rikka, but revealing the keeper¡¯s business was not on the table. But it was the astral that had them all on edge. Serafina confided the gossip she overheard from the other huntsmen. Like many devout, they knew about astrals. The sorcerers knew they could even talk to them in visions, under the right circumstances, if the sorcerer were strong enough in their own powers. But the idea of bringing one into the world was a step off a sheer cliff to them; Alia¡¯s feat was so unimaginable they now wondered if any power was beyond her. Could she, for instance, ask the Huntress to appear in Thuraia? From the perspective of the sorcerers, Alia¡¯s prowess seemed so formidable they didn''t suppose themselves capable of equaling her. The hunter-chaplains insisted celestials were not commonplace allies available to any and all. Wrong, but Alia was not sure how to explain. The Huntress did not withhold gifts from Her faithful. Receiving the aid of an astral was a question of faith, need, and knowledge. Something basic her mother and her aunts taught her, but humans often claimed that dryad lore was not intended to apply to humans. She shook her head, awareness of Utari¡¯s voice penetrating her reverie. Earlier Alia asked an echomancer to vet the book¡¯s past, and he had Seen nothing in Shahin¡¯s actions in relation to the book that was incongruent with his stated intentions. Now Utari was confirming that a blood codex was not inherently evil, which seemed to reassure Aric, and he relaxed a little in his chair. Aric carried a satchel with him. He opened it and pulled out small rack containing a few vials of his own. All of them were crystal, pure and clear, and one of them came equipped with a dropper. He positioned them opposite the shadowmen¡¯s vials Alia had arranged on her desk. Methodically he went down the line, pouring each blood vial into his empty crystal tubes. With a steady hand he poured small, precise amounts. Once done, he used the dropper to add his reagent to the crystal vials. ¡°This will show if there¡¯s an infernal taint at all in their blood. Give it a moment,¡± Aric advised. They stared intently. Slowly, four of the six vials changed to a deep chartreuse. Aric nodded in satisfaction. ¡°Tainted,¡± he declared. ¡°Now, let¡¯s see if the taint is from the Erebossi who made this little donation.¡± He jerked his thumb at the bottle of ichor. ¡°How can you tell that?¡± Alia asked. Aric flashed a small smile. ¡°The means are simple: the reagent will turn another color if it¡¯s from the Erebossan. If not, the lore keepers say one infernal¡¯s ichor won¡¯t mix with another¡¯s. There¡¯d be an explosion. So, ah, here.¡± With a snap of his fingers, a shield dome irised onto Alia¡¯s desk. The explosion would be contained in the shield. Or so he hoped. ¡°Does it matter how formidable the infernal is?¡± Alia asked. She eyed the dome skeptically. Was mere crystal sufficient to contain an Erebossan queen? ¡°Not at all,¡± Aric assured her. He took a stylus with a sharp, fine point, and dipped it into the bottle of ichor. Again his steady hand ensured he didn¡¯t waste a single drop. The first vial he tried smoked, and the crystal vibrated slightly, but it subsided quickly enough. The chartreuse deepened to a jade green. ¡°This one.¡± Aric glanced back at the codex, and his eyes brightened as understanding dawned. ¡°So you¡¯re going to track these people? Now I understand. Will you need to do this often? You¡¯ll need more reagents. I¡¯ll mix up something for you, and give you the recipe for when you¡¯re out of town. Any apothecary should be able to help you out.¡± ¡°Thank you; your foresight gratifies me,¡± Alia replied. Aric went down the line, establishing that the remaining three vials were tainted with the same infernal¡¯s ichor. With a grimace Alia dipped her own stylus into the tainted vials and entered the donors¡¯ names into her codex. Shudders rippled through her as black lines snaked from the names she wrote. It was as though an invisible hand were writing: new names formed, branching out from the ones she¡¯d written. Utari and Aric watched in amazement. ¡°Huntress protect us,¡± Alia whispered, clasping her stomach. Utari smiled sympathetically. Aric cocked his head and furrowed his brow at her. ¡°Are you worried about dealing with this stuff?¡± He gestured to the vials and the book. By the Huntress, she had made an impression on the other officers! ¡°Of course. I wouldn¡¯t trust anyone who would casually handle something like this. Na¡¯ertum.¡± Alia bestowed her protection blessings upon Aric and Utari, to turn the queen abyssal¡¯s eye from them. Aric regarded her as he stroked his chin. ¡°You are able to place protections against the Erebossi? I thought venatori did elemental spells and nature spells, things like that. Is it different with priests?¡± ¡°Power to protect against Erebossi is attainable to all sorcerers who study how, and are devoted to the Huntress. There is more to being a huntsman than safeguarding the wilds. We are to guard against invaders from Erebossa. Perhaps reapers could be trained to do the same? The Reaper is Her son, after all.¡± A question that Aric found intriguing. His attitude was far more congenial when he left her. For the next several hours, Alia went about getting her affairs in order. She gathered the sorcerers again, including Aric, and showed them the ichor. Once again Aric took a small sample, this time enough for him and the other top captains to examine. ¡°If this is the shadow creep that¡¯s been nipping at us, we¡¯ll find out. Keep in touch, Ironwing,¡± Aric said. For the first time in days, Alia returned to her apartment. She took a moment to look around, committing the place to her memory. In the years since she¡¯d moved to Ebon Cove, the apartment had become her sanctuary. She liked the mahogany floors, where she¡¯d scattered soft rugs, and the timber walls, on which she hung tapestries depicting forest scenes. Over the years she accumulated furniture. In her living room two daybeds served for her guests to recline upon, with a chest between them where she kept her tea set. Beautiful porcelain, each piece in her set featured a cloisonne painting of teal phoenixes. The craftsmanship of the set made her proud to use it to serve tea and treats to her guests, and Alia smiled fondly at her memories of visits from Serafina, Palamara, and of course, her mother. After her first visit Samara sent along a chest with pillows embellished with phoenix feathers, to match her cups. When Sheridan moved in, the two of them would spend their evenings talking over tea. She would tell him what she¡¯d learned about being a priestess, and discuss whether priesthood was his true ambition, or simply the only option he knew. Behind the daybeds, against the wall, Alia had set up an altar dedicated to the Huntress carved from dragon ivory, from a fire dragon she had slain with her own two hands. The dragon had been crazed by poison in someone else¡¯s failed attempt to hunt it. In its madness it began attacking villagers south of the grove. Killing the dragon was her adulthood rite, and she used its teeth to make an altar worthy of the Huntress. Instead of four table legs she had fashioned the ivory into a massive banyan tree to support the ivory altar top, which she had edged in silver. Her mother and aunts once said that when the Huntress had dwelt among them, She had sat upon a dragon ivory throne with a backing embroidered by a silver banyan tree. In comparison to the altar, everything else in Alia¡¯s home was ordinary. The smallness of her kitchen never presented a problem before Sheridan showed up. It had enough space for her stove, apothecary chest, and a little table that could sit two comfortably, and four in a pinch. In her bedroom she kept only her canopy bed and a tall, ornately carved camphor cabinet where she stored her clothes. The chest exuded a clean woodsy scent, which helped her to rest and relax. By custom she traveled light, but this time she allotted herself a medium-sized trunk to go with her satchel. Now she must consider what to pack in it. Certain artifacts, of course, but she also needed to account for her cover. Which meant the appropriate clothes ¡­ and if she misstepped in her preparations, the case journal she updated at the Watch should serve Serafina in picking up where she left off. The journal included what she learned since the night she found Junius dead. A quick check of Sheridan¡¯s room showed he had already packed a bag. The floor was bare; Sheridan had wound his bedroll and secured it to his pack. He always slept on the floor, a lifelong custom. Fortunate, because she only kept a spare chest in that room. Before Sheridan moved in she used the room for prayers and meditation, now she contented herself with an alcove in the hanging gardens on the roof. Alia tracked down her landlord, and paid up her rent for the next six months. Palamara told her he¡¯d take over after that if she didn¡¯t return by then. Yun had finished adding the Frost upgrade to her Dragon Pearl IV, which would allow her to use it even in the rain. Eyes sharp and standards high, Alia inspected the weapon. To her satisfaction, Yun matched Hurik in skill. ¡°Come out back and give it a go,¡± Yun suggested. Alia followed him into a second courtyard, where he¡¯d set up targets. She fired. Ice covered her target, shattering it moments later. ¡°Well?¡± Alia smiled and tipped her hat to him. ¡°You¡¯ve done well, gunsmith. Good evening to you.¡± Back at the Watch, Alexander, the brother of Anaxander, asked to see her. ¡°I didn¡¯t get eaten,¡± he said. Confined in the north tower, he was therefore imprisoned in a cell with walls enchanted with protection spells against Erebossi. Monstrous as flayers were, they were not arsh¡¯at?m¡ªthe monsters which crossed over from Erebossa to visit evil upon the living. Logically, then, the walls would not have protected him from a flayer. Only the treaty Alia had brokered saved him. Alia shrugged. ¡°Did my brother get eaten? No one will tell me anything. Is he alright?¡± Alia looked him over. Black and blue bruises detracted from his already marginal looks. Beneath his clothes he must have more, because he moved stiffly, with an occasional wince. ¡°No. That is not how he died.¡± A sob escaped his lips. The young man buried his face in his hands. Alia stepped back. What use was there in telling Alexander she was sorry? As brother to Anaxander he had a right to his grief, but that was as far as she was willing to go. There is no kindness I can do, and anything else would be petty. Be gone, now. She turned, heading for the door. ¡°Wait!¡± The bruises on Alexander¡¯s face glistened with tears. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Why did you let me go? Why didn¡¯t you kill me, too? You killed my brother, why not me? Why did you stop him from beating me?¡± Alia made her voice hard when she answered him. ¡°Are you not grateful?¡± The man¡¯s mouth fell open. His jaw worked. After a moment he answered her. ¡°I just want to know why. You didn¡¯t have to¡ª¡± ¡°Why should I have let you get beaten? To what end, Alexander?¡± ¡°But you were trying to kill us! You were the one who brought the flayer onto us¡ª¡± ¡°You did that yourself,¡± Alia reminded him. ¡°I am tired of this. You and your brother and your friends brought this on yourselves. Drop the pretense of victimhood. Transgression invites retribution. Please stop whining about it.¡± ¡°But¡ª¡± he cut himself off. He hung his head, unable to withstand her gaze. ¡°I thought¡ªthe Huntress isn¡¯t¡ª¡± She remembered Mahzun at that moment, what he¡¯d said to the old man. You said Her people were the real enemies, Mahzun had accused. True, as the shadow priests were inherently the enemies of the Huntress. And therefore, as Her priestess, Alia must oppose the shadow men. But what their goals were she was less sure of. Why were they willing to cut souls? Why were they willing to take abyssals into themselves? Why did they want to destroy the dryads? None of their possible motives made sense to her. What did they expect to gain, if they were able to fashion the world so that such actions were commonplace? Coldly she said, ¡°The Huntress is an enemy to those soulless beings who prey upon men. She is an enemy to the menservants of those beings.¡± The man took a step back, trembling. He tripped over a footstool and fell on his backside. He crab walked backwards and made a little warding sign Alia recognized. The sign used by those who were neither sorcerers nor priests to ward off evil; one of the few gestures available to the common people. Yet, Alexander should be the last to use it. Old habits of mind ran deep, apparently. Favoring him with a faint sneer Alia continued, ¡°As you are a servant of the Abyssal Serpent there is no treaty you can negotiate with me. I didn¡¯t kill you only because I have a use for you. If you are grateful I spared your life, then you may earn your redemption. Curse the name of your queen and I will let you have your chance.¡± An offer he couldn¡¯t accept, as she well knew. If he were as devoted to his infernal queen as she was to the Huntress, then he would choose death rather than disavowal. If. In Alexander she sensed a weakness. Anaxander had been the stronger of the two, stronger in body and will. Alexander was a follower, and would do as his brother demanded. Alia gambled that his sense of self-preservation would spur him to latch on to her. Social cues threw her, but what was in another person¡¯s heart was easier for her to read. Alexander scrambled upright, resting on his knees. He clasped his hands together in a gesture of supplication. ¡°Please. Please. I¡ª¡± Alia¡¯s hand went to her pistol. ¡°Oh, huntress, spare me please! I want to serve you! I¡¯ll help you I swear it! Just don¡¯t kill me. I¡¯m begging you, please don¡¯t kill me.¡± She pulled the hammer back. ¡°You may go now, to your reward.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t curse the name! They never told me, I swear. Only the inner circle would know, and they said I hadn¡¯t proved myself. I would curse it if I knew. I swear¡ª¡± Alia held up her hand, stopping him. ¡°Enough.¡± The inner circle. Alexander fell face down on the floor, shaking. His breaths came in ragged, heaving sobs. Alia watched him for a moment, then she pulled the blood codex of Shahin¡¯s family tree from her satchel. She thumped it on Alexander¡¯s forehead, and he shot up, startled. ¡°Wha-what¡¯s this?¡± ¡°You tell me.¡± Gingerly he accepted the book. With trembling hands he fanned through it. His breath caught, and he looked at Alia with tears glistening on his cheeks and hope in his eyes. ¡°These were for the Marinites. We were looking to see who still had the Old Powers. Who could control the sea dragons. Fellrath always said he could, but it¡¯s not true. Just a brag to puff himself up. Yeah, he could control some bit of the sea, but not the dragons. One time, not even one time did he summon them, even when he needed them! Because he couldn¡¯t. I don¡¯t care what his father says, them dragons ain¡¯t impressed.¡± He handed the book back to her. ¡°Sorcerers aligned with the Sea Lord? How are they of use to you?¡± ¡°¡¯T¡¯wasn¡¯t just the dryads we were interested in, ma¡¯am.¡± Right. Of course. Memories came back to her, of how her family spoke of the sons of the Sea Lord. They should be a target, and for the same reasons the dryads were. Alia gave him a long, long look. His eyes met hers only for a moment, then strayed to the gun she still held in her hand. Spinning on her heel, she left the room. By the Huntress she hoped never to see him again. Outside his cell a sub captain waited, and he fell into step with her to await her command. ¡°Let Serafina know I¡¯ve softened him up. He should talk now.¡± The sub captain, Basileus, winked at her. The man had always been easygoing, quicker to laugh than cuss in anger. Even better, he still treated her as he always did. ¡°Serafina? Oh yeah, talking to her won¡¯t scare him. At all. You¡¯re a bad, bad woman, Ironwing.¡± Caught by surprise, Alia only smiled in response. Utari sought her in the common room. Flushed with excitement, she smiled triumphantly. ¡°We did it. The scryers on that boat you¡¯re interested in? We¡¯ve held them at bay. They can¡¯t get news of anything that¡¯s happened here. So, you should be able to board with no trouble.¡± ¡°You used the Protocol of Silence? I thought we could only do that when the archons declare a state of emergency? Are they helping us?¡± Utari laughed. ¡°Oh please. They wouldn¡¯t be chuffed to do that unless they were threatened. No, according to our Great and Fearless leader, the laws specifically say we can¡¯t use the Protocol of Silence against the entire city, unless the archons say so. Using it on one boat is not technically against the law.¡± ¡°Very good, Watcher Joshi,¡± Alia said with an ironic salute. ¡°Thank you for all your help. May the Seeker be with you always.¡± Utari hugged her. ¡°And may you never lose the scent of your enemies, Ironwing.¡± Chapter 12: Departure Chapter XII Departure In which Alia leaves Lyrcania The sarcophagus was beautiful, in a dark and menacing sort of way. Carved from black onyx shot through with white striations, and red sardonyx shot through with violet, it was embellished with a plating of hepatizon, a red-violet brass. Formed in one piece from head to torso, the plate overlaying the lid presented a grotesque figure. A death mask. Sinister, unnaturally long skeletal fingers crossed over the creature¡¯s chest. Talon-like fingernails clasped the upper arms of the figure. The mask served as a type of warding, the kind available to those not able to effect divine curses of their own. Superstitious folklore claimed the mask¡¯s sheer hideousness would frighten away evil spirits, including any water-borne ghosts that might attack the ship. The carnelians in the eye sockets represented a baleful glare. And they took her in this. Quintus¡¯s journal proved enlightening on how the dryads were transported out of the city: Right in plain sight, in the sarcophagi made by Firat¡¯s company. Crewmen loaded them onto the ship in the cargo holds, arousing no suspicion at all. Travelers used this particular style of sarcophagus for transporting the dead long distances; hence the warding figure. Sarcophagi intended for funerals or installment in tombs wouldn¡¯t use the plate overlay, revealing instead the face carved in the likeness of the deceased. Sheridan kept his head down. He wore the copy of Junius Fellrath¡¯s signet¡ªthe original was never found, and Alia wondered if the flayer had swallowed it by mistake. Not that she would ask. Per Alia¡¯s strategy, the Obsidian Stinger had been permitted to unload its cargo. When Fellrath was alive Gavin always ensured the ship and its cargo were never subjected to inspection. But that was then. Utari Joshi and several other Watch officers commandeered the inspection of the ship, which startled its captain, Timon Aristarchus. Enraged, he demanded to speak to Gavin, and when that didn¡¯t work, he invoked the name of one of Brennus Fellrath¡¯s friends in the Sun and Stars Society. He named several other people, thus falling into Alia¡¯s trap. She would permit none of Junius Fellrath¡¯s allies to escape her net, and Aristarchus unwittingly aided her on that score. He became apoplectic when Joshi introduced herself as Truthseeress Joshi; a truthseer not in his pay was a dangerous thing for him. Joshi would uncover both his falsehoods and his contraband. Contraband provided the pretext they needed to arrest him. Of course Aristarchus would not be held at bay for long; he kept an advocate on retainer who once served Junius Fellrath. Having encountered the man before, Alia expected him patter on about justice, or shamelessly offer up a bribe as needed to free Aristarchus. The Watch would let him. In the meantime, he was not present to question Sheridan when he boarded the ship with the sarcophagus. Because he bore Shahin¡¯s copy of Junius Fellrath¡¯s ring, a crew member ushered him into the secret compartment where they stored any sarcophagi bearing the dryads. Without question they installed Sheridan in one of the few cabins in the ship. Alia; however, was obliged to wait with the general passengers before boarding. ¡°Mornin¡¯. Brilliant dawn, isn¡¯t it?¡± A familiar drawl. Alia looked up in time to catch Tregarde winking at her. Like her, he sat at a table in the hostel where the ship¡¯s prospective passengers awaited. He raised his cup to her. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± ¡°You¡¯re a hard woman to catch up to. I hear tell you¡¯re leavin¡¯ town. For a lady you pack pretty light.¡± She glanced down at the trunk and satchel at her feet, and the tiffin pail stashed on a chair beside her. The porters were already coming to load up the trunk for her, which meant she would go aboard soon. But Tregarde¡¯s comment prompted her to notice the small valise at his own feet, and a satchel and tiffin pail on an empty chair next to him. ¡°Keep your voice down,¡± she snapped. For her voyage she wore a calculated disguise, an aqua gown of shimmering silk. The gown¡¯s loose torso covered her from her neck to her waist. Below the waist the dress split into four panels, though the two rear panels were sewn together. In the front Alia opted to keep the two panels loose. Doing so revealed a smaller flap which hit her mid-thigh instead of down to her knees like the others. Near her collar the dress opened a little to reveal the pale yellow halter top she wore beneath it. Stark white trousers in silk velvet preserved her modesty. Her slippers, trimmed tastefully in gold, matched her dress. So gorgeous an ensemble ¡­ and highly impractical for tromping about in the woods or crime scenes. As Watch-Huntress, Alia needed to be prepared to dirty her hands. Hence her cover as a woman of leisure. Such a woman would never involve herself in violent altercations that made her dangling gold earrings a safety risk. Such a woman would wear a modest circlet in her hair. Stealing time here and there, Alia managed to read up on the mysterious Ta-Setians Shahin had mentioned. They visited Lyrcania just often enough, and were perceived to be uniformly rich due to centuries of accumulated wealth. Which meant Alia¡¯s clothes suited her cover. Tourists from beyond the Gold Sea always marveled at silk as an expensive luxury. More to the point, she would pass as a traveler when she boarded the ship. Even if Aristarchus warned his crew to watch out for Alia Ironwing, author of his misfortunes, they would take this version of herself for nothing more than what she appeared to be. Unless Tregarde ruined it by breaking her cover. She glared at him. ¡°Running away from an arranged marriage? Got a fellow waiting for you at the other end of your voyage?¡± He winked. For a moment she didn¡¯t respond; caught off guard by the amusing story Tregarde was spinning. Did he intend to be useful after all? She shook herself and said, ¡°I don¡¯t care what my father is paying you, I¡¯m not going back. I won¡¯t live forever with someone I can¡¯t stand.¡± A line she adapted from her favorite adventure romance. ¡°Relax, sweet thing. But so you know, I can retire on the money your papa is paying me to drag you back.¡± Unlikely he was speaking in code, so Alia dismissed the notion that he meant Palamara had sent him. Palamara wouldn¡¯t have trusted Tregarde to guard Alia¡¯s back; he would have sent one of his own people instead. No, Tregarde was establishing a cover. Fine. No reason not to play along. Alia huffed. ¡°I¡¯ll pay you better if you didn¡¯t see me. Agreed?¡± ¡°Not a chance, sweetness. Consider me your shadow because I¡¯ll be sticking close. ¡¯Til the very end. You might say I have an obligation.¡± Allowing her irritation to show, Alia picked up her own cup and raised it in a toast. ¡°Drink in good health, my friend. Mind that I don¡¯t toss you overboard.¡± Tregarde laughed and held up his own cup. ¡°Game on, sweetness.¡± Alia glanced around. No one paid them undue attention, except for a young girl and her father. The girl appeared about sixteen, and from the way she shot daggers at Tregarde, Alia suspected the girl was enduring the same situation Tregarde had made up for Alia. Having loaded her trunk onto a cart, the porters were now making their way out to the docks. Alia followed. True to his bounty hunter persona, Tregarde stayed close behind. They boarded the ship without incident, and the officials pleasantly surprised Alia by waiving the exit tax for her. The archons of Ebon Cove resented any leave-takings by native Lyrcanians, especially the women. However, the officials thought Alia a foreign tourist, and therefore exempt. Proof enough of the quality of her cover. As her cover demanded, Alia also reserved a room for herself. Alone. Initially she intended to pass off Sheridan as a servant, which would be in keeping with the social status she was pretending to have. But Serafina said she would be hassled over having a servant, and invite scrutiny: the Lyrcanians did not keep slaves. After the Third Cataclysm, when the Gate to Pelasgos was destroyed, the Lyrcanians threw away many of the Pelasgian ways. They had to rely on each other, against the restive forces of Xia, and master and slave could not afford to be divided. The Lyrcanians were fierce in their independence, and were determined to make it difficult for the Pelasgians to reassert control over them, should they return. To that end, the Lyrcanians made a law that any slave who made it onto Lyrcanian soil was automatically free. Anyone attempting to keep their slave could be imprisoned for it. A ploy meant to discourage any Pelasgians, Anshani, and now Rasena Valentians, from visiting Lyrcania in the first place. The New Lyrcanians were made to swear an oath to leave those ways behind, and assimilate. Then Palamara stepped in. ¡°Listen, in my day, and even now, any big-to-do who needed servant-work done on a ship simply hired the servants of the ship¡¯s officers. They see you wearing the dress you showed me, and they¡¯ll throw themselves at you for the generous pay you offer them. Cooking, laundry¡ªyou want it, just pay them.¡± Which proved to be true; the porters name-dropped several of the ship¡¯s servants for her to approach. But as Palamara predicted her dress alone attracted offers of service. With that matter out of the way, Alia and Sheridan concluded the prudent course was to not associate with each other. If one of them were caught out, the other could stay in reserve to intervene later. So she made no attempt to seek out her apprentice, trusting that their plan would hold. Tregarde made for an unexpected complication. Why was he following her? More to the point, how did he find her? Perhaps Shahin was wrong about the lack of interest enemy scryers would have in her. A thought which resulted in her pacing in her quarters. Anything might happen, in the middle of the sea. Rather than an entire legion of Watchmen, her sole reserve was Sheridan. And perhaps Tregarde? Potential contingency plans swirled in her mind, but in the end she gave up in defeat. Instead she attempted to meditate, in fits and starts. Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her door. According to her pocket astrolabe it was almost noon, which meant she had whiled away the hours to no useful end. With a sigh of disgust she went for the door. Tregarde. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Alia demanded. Tregarde brushed past her. He stopped, turned about the room, and whistled. ¡°Ah, the joys and privileges of a heavy purse. I envy you.¡± Alia hurriedly shut the door, and locked it behind herself. ¡°Do I have to ask you a third time? What are you doing here?¡± Tregarde held up his hands, his three-tiered tiffin box dangling from his left hand. ¡°Relax. I¡¯m not here to sow caltrops in your way. But the fact is, you¡¯re not the only one who wants to get to the bottom of this Brotherhood business. I am a huntsman, or did you forget?¡± Images of Aric flashed before her eyes. Had she become as territorial as any other Watch officer on a case? ¡°True enough. How did you find me here?¡± ¡°Persistence. Do you sleep at all? I lost a lot of sleep tracking you.¡± A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Alia folded her arms. Tregarde sighed. Without waiting for an invitation he sat himself upon an upholstered bench in an alcove next to the foot of her bunk. ¡°After what happened with those soul cutters, my team and I talked. We¡¯ve been keeping our ears to the ground, getting some sense of what¡¯s been going on. Infernals, here? Our lorekeepers say that¡¯s unprecedented. Yet, it happened. And you knew what to do about it. I talked to Falconer Tahm. You¡¯re the one with all the answers. And as a huntsman, I have to see this through. So my team and I agreed to split up, and I¡¯m with you.¡± Tregarde reached into his duster and pulled out a square of paper which he handed over to her. Familiar handwriting greeted her.
Huntress Ironwing, I introduce you to Huntsman Isul Tregarde, a sorcerer of the sparrowhawk faction. He has aided us on several missions before, and has proved himself capable. I request that you allow him into your service. This mission is too vital to be carried out in isolation, and I can think of no one better to aid you. ¡ªFalconer Tahm, Priest of the Exalted Eagle
Alia looked up at him. ¡°What did you help him with?¡± ¡°You heard about that business with the so-called haunted mines in the Jade Mountains? Not a ghost. Not even close. The dragon egg poachers in Port L¨¤nh? Caught ¡¯em. I¡¯m a huntsman for hire. Most times I work for local temples. You see the Falconer called me a sparrowhawk? Means I stealth around my prey, so to speak. They like to send me on dangerous cases where discretion matters more than overwhelming force. Occasionally private citizens hire me, too. ¡°I was drawn to Ebon Cove when I heard about the Brotherhood. The things they do¡­ This is as much my fight as yours. None of my gifts are meant for me alone; I serve the Huntress, too. Like you said, when I face Her, I want to be able to answer the question about what I did when I found out about this brotherhood.¡± ¡°And your friends? What will they do?¡± ¡°Falconer Tahm has them investigating some matters he said your investigation uncovered. But if need be, we can ask whatever temples we find for any rearguard aid. I¡¯ve worked a lot of places, and I¡¯m known to a lot of the high priests. I can introduce you, so to speak. Falconer asked me to give you this, too.¡± ¡°This¡± proved to be a letter of introduction, for Alia to use. ¡°Would I really need this? Wouldn¡¯t they do that test you did, or something like it?¡± ¡°The test my friends and I gave you is vinegar. This letter here is honey. I only go in for vinegar when too much is at stake and can¡¯t afford error. In Ebon Cove you have status as part of the Watch, and it opens doors and gets you resources. Outside of Lyrcanian jurisdiction, being a Watch-Huntress counts as much as wishes and dreams. You¡¯re gonna want to lean hard on the huntress part of your title. Acting under the aegis of the Huntress¡ªor Her priests¡ªgets coffers opened up for you, too. Although, the Falconer only gave me enough ¡®resources¡¯ to board this ship. I don¡¯t get a fancy room like you do.¡± ¡°I¡¯m using the Watch¡¯s resources, not the temple¡¯s,¡± Alia replied, to forestall any potential complaint about favoritism. Although, she had paid for the room out of her own funds. Money was still an odd concept to her; dryads bartered with each other. After a fashion money made sense; it offered an unrivaled convenience. But all the same, most of her income went into a bank. She rarely spent it on herself, preferring to donate it to worthy causes she came across. The last cause involved a case in the Copper Banks. Her investigation into the murder of a young man resulted in her arranging passage on a ship for his family to escape Lyrcania to rebuild their lives in Gandhar. Otherwise, her apartment was her greatest personal splurge: she had to sleep somewhere, and there was no reason not to be comfortable. ¡°I guess there are perks for being tied down like that,¡± Tregarde said. ¡°What¡¯s the next move?¡± He unlatched his tiffin boxes. Unlike hers, his pails were battered copper and engraved with rhombus motifs. The top tier box proved to contain pickled carrots and daikon radish. He offered it to her. Well. It had been hours since she broke her fast with dried persimmons and almonds and cream. She sighed and reached for her own tiffin pail. Like Tregarde¡¯s, her pail held three tiers of boxes, though hers were red lacquer and used a phoenix motif. Palamara¡¯s wife had sent it along for her trip. Alia accepted a portion of Tregarde¡¯s carrots, and shared a dish of saffron rice and tart dried barberries. The sweetness of the pickled vegetables served to cut the tartness of the barberries. ¡°What do you know about my mission?¡± she asked as they ate. They talked. Though aware of Fellrath, Tregarde put more effort into penetrating the underworld networks. He, like Shahin, made the connection between Fellrath and the shadow priests. The trail of the shadow priests led him to discover the soul-cutting ritual. And it turned out he knew the Lords of Chaos as thoroughly as Alia knew the Brotherhood, which made Alia grateful the high priest sent him to her after all. When they finished eating Alia shared Lila Palamara¡¯s tiny sweet cakes made with rice, rose water, and cardamom. They washed it down with Tregarde¡¯s tisane of lemongrass. ¡°For now Sheridan is keeping to himself,¡± Alia said, between sips of the hot lemongrass water. ¡°He¡¯s posing as a courier. If Aristarchus questions him, Sheridan has a story to tell that should pass casual inspection, enough to avoid a truth-seer¡¯s attention.¡± ¡°What if Ari¡¯s people open the sarcophagus?¡± Tregarde had devoured the first confection, now he nibbled the second, savoring it. ¡°Then that¡¯s a complication.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll say. I¡¯ll watch his back as best I can; sound the alarm if they¡¯re on to him. What name are you going by now?¡± Alia had given this a lot of thought. By now everyone knew she was raised by dryads, who tended to have nature-themed names. Therefore she veered off from the tradition and called herself Saka, the name of a Ta-Setian woman mentioned as accompanying Deukalion in his conquest of Lyrcania. ¡°Very well, Saka,¡± Tregarde said, rising to leave. ¡°Good hunting to you.¡±
Aristarchus, captain of the Obsidian Stinger, did indeed have a capable advocate who managed to get the charges against him dropped. He pulled anchor by noon the very day Alia boarded, and the ship was on its way post-haste. As expected Aristarchus paid a visit to Sheridan, but he only asked perfunctory questions of him. Mainly he wanted to know if Sheridan heard inside information on the fates of Junius and Gavin, but Sheridan only mentioned the flayers, which shook up Aristarchus. ¡°We¡¯re supposedly safe. But I¡¯d rather not remain in Lyrcania, if it¡¯s all the same to you,¡± Sheridan had said. Aristarchus must have agreed. He made good time speeding away from the port of Ebon Cove, and soon enough it became clear he was leaving Lyrcania altogether. The ship was small enough that it would be conspicuous if Alia spoke to Sheridan. Prudent, she kept her distance, and didn¡¯t even acknowledge Tregarde, given their ruse that she was his prey. His ruse as a daughter-catching bounty hunter meant he had good reason to be seen watching her every move, but only until they were on the open sea where escape was no longer possible. The huntsman must have considered this, because one night he managed to lure Alia into a dark corner before she reached her cabin. ¡°Take this,¡± he whispered, dropping a small object into the pocket of the silk shirt she wore. Split at the waist, the cerulean garment matched her silk trousers. Alia had chosen it for the long sleeves, which allowed her to conceal a small thin blade. ¡°Think of me and speak my name.¡± Inside her room, Alia plucked the object from her pocket. To her surprise it turned out to be a pretty cloisonn¨¦ leafbird, wrought in a brilliant yellow-green enamel, with a vivid blue for the wings. As she had nothing to report, she spent her free time meditating and doing calisthenics while otherwise keeping to shallow pleasantries with her shipmates. However, she did have one awkward moment, when the curious girl from the hostel approached her, and asked for advice about how to elude one¡¯s father. She had come all the way from Rasena Valentis, yet her father still managed to find her. Caught short, Alia racked her brain until she remembered a case file from the Watch, of an archon¡¯s daughter who ran away to Xia. ¡°In a world with scryers, running is a difficult thing. Even I¡¯ve learned that. Truly so long as your father has the means to hire a scryer, there is little point in running. Come to an accord with him: now he knows the lengths he will have to go to in order to have you marry whom he pleases. I doubt this is a pleasant revelation for him. If there¡¯s someone else you wish to marry, convince your father of his worth. If not, then convince your father his choice for you is not worthy. That is all.¡± Two weeks of endless vistas of water, water, and more water, before finally they sighted land. Meanwhile in her cabin Alia studied a periplus¡ªa logbook of ports and trade in the Gold Sea. A boon Palamara gave her, from his youth in the Lyrcanian navy. While accounts of the people he encountered might be out of date, the locations and distances of the ports were fixed. For this reason she anticipated they would approach the Riftwater Archipelago days before the captain announced it. An intriguing destination, and one dangerous to navigate to. Many overconfident captains had lost their crew, their ships, and their lives to the hazards of those islands. No wonder Junius used sorcery to transport the Obsidian Stinger there, but that raised the uncomfortable question of the mettle of the ship¡¯s sailers. Should they prove up to the challenge, an important prize awaited them on the chief island of the archipelago: The last Gate separating the Gold Sea from the West Reaches. Through the Riftwater Gate the empires of Anshan and Rasena Valentis became accessible, along with several smaller portals in various countries. Excitement and dismay warred inside Alia at this revelation. Now she understood why the dryads seemed to vanish without a trace. Having spent all of her life in Lyrcania, she never imagined Fellrath¡¯s operation moving beyond the Gold Sea nations closest to it. In fact, she originally cultivated a friendship with Serafina because Serafina was native to Xia, a dominant power in the Gold Sea. Unfortunately, Serafina¡¯s investigations had come up empty, and the trail had always gone cold wherever Alia searched in the port cities within a month¡¯s sail from Ebon Cove. But the Riftwater Gate? Just how extensive was the Brotherhood¡¯s reach? How far away was the ultimate destination of the abducted dryads? ¡°A nekromanteion,¡± she whispered. Alia bolted upright in her bed. Moonlight poured through the little porthole that served as her sole source of natural light. Shadow gates were rare. The man-made Gates built in the Seven Gates Era were only super-portals, able to transport people either great distances or to many different places. The Radiant Gate, however, could enter other worlds. Including Erebossa, the netherworld. Discovering the involvement of the queen abyssal obliged Alia to revise her working hypothesis of the Brotherhood¡¯s motives: in tandem with the shadow priests, they sought the fall of the Ebon Grove. Without the dryads to guard the gate, abyssals would be free to enter the world. Destroying or weakening the guardians of the Radiant Gate would be sufficient to allow the sorcerers to invite abyssals and arsh¡¯at?m into the world. Of a certainty the feat would cease to be the domain of only the most skilled of sorcerers. Although¡ªby dryad law mortals were kept ignorant of the Radiant Gate. Yet Junius ¡­ perhaps his infernal queen told Junius about it? Or outright commanded him to conquer it? And, if Junius decided destroying the grove and its protectors was taking too long, perhaps the Brotherhood and the shadow priests might have sought a less-protected gate. At the very least for the sake of delivering the dryads to the shadow queen. Of course. Now, what to do about Aristarchus? This was the question she put to Tregarde, when she activated the mechanical leafbird as he had instructed. The bird astonished her by opening its tiny beak, and speaking with Tregarde¡¯s droll voice. ¡°Junius is dead, Rav and Clawfoot are in my hands, the Sun and Stars Society likewise, and the shadow priests are dead,¡± she noted. ¡°All of the shadow priests?¡± Tregarde asked. Given his tone, she imagined him arching an eyebrow. All the same, the question brought her up short. ¡°By the Huntress! You¡¯re right. Only the shadow priests who were in the temple the night I was abducted are dead. There could be more.¡± Before she left town the blood codex revealed others in Ebon Cove and the nearest islands to beware of. People who might continue their efforts against the dryads. Between Serafina, the Fire Lords, Palamara, and Falconer Tahm, Alia was tempted to count those other men dead. ¡°Exactly,¡± Tregarde agreed. ¡°You don¡¯t have a full roster of members, I take it?¡± As he spoke the little bird swiveled its head, as if surveying its surroundings, and Alia suddenly wondered if the sorcerer could see through its mechanical eyes. Good thing she slept with clothes on. ¡°My friends are after some of those others,¡± Tregarde continued. ¡°As for Ari, he looks to be the sole link between Lyrcania and the endpoint, wherever that is. You¡¯ve pulled a lot of claws, but not his. Not yet.¡± ¡°Leverage. I need leverage. I¡¯ve been studying an old periplus, and I think I¡¯ve found a fulcrum: The Lyrcania Mercantile Voyagers.¡± The Riftwater was the axis on which her suppositions turned: captains with the skill to navigate the treacherous waters of those islands were rare enough that the Lyrcania Mercantile Voyagers paid them a kingly sum. For better or for worse, in the Gold Sea any ship captain of above average skill operated under the aegis of the Voyagers. The trading company was the undisputed master of the Gold Sea trade routes, fending off attacks by pirates from Xia and other nations. They made trade safer, but their control of the sea meant no ship had leave to travel those routes without reckoning with the company. The wooden ship in Junius Fellrath¡¯s study pointed to a workaround: sorcery. Given how controlling Fellrath was, he might have insisted on Aristarchus only traveling via magical means, directly from Ebon Cove to the Riftwater. In that case, it wouldn¡¯t matter if Aristarchus lacked the know-how to navigate the Riftwater. Except ¡­ the trading papers and goods Utari Joshi uncovered proved the Obsidian Stinger engaged in legitimate business, importing and exporting merchandise from ports in and around the Gold Sea. Which brought the Voyagers back into the picture, though whether they were witting participants Alia couldn¡¯t guess. What she was more certain of was that finding a skilled captain who operated independently of that company, and successfully avoid the company¡¯s destroyers and privateers of rival nations and was corrupt enough or gullible enough to enter the Brotherhood¡¯s service, would be a rare find indeed. No, more likely the Brotherhood suborned a captain employed with the Voyagers; because such a captain could move freely and would have the company¡¯s much-needed protection as well. The bird trilled. ¡°A mighty promising fulcrum indeed. The Voyagers have Marinite priests. If you tell them about what the Brotherhood of the Jackal is doing, they¡¯ll do a search-and-destroy for you. The Gold Sea is treacherous enough without courting the wrath of the Sea Lord. Those Marinites are His right hand, and ain¡¯t no one fool enough to try and check or overrule them while at sea. I¡¯d love to see what they¡¯d do to Fellrath¡¯s people, given what they¡¯ve got coming and all.¡± ¡°Best of all, they¡¯ll cut off any of Fellrath¡¯s reserves who could start his plans anew. They¡¯ll sever and cauterize the heads of that particular hydra,¡± Alia predicted. But here and now Aristarchus was hers to deal with. What remained now was to determine if she needed him alive or not. If she miscalculated there was no retrieving that mistake. Don¡¯t be so sharp you cut yourself. Her family had taught her to beware of unintended consequences. She would take that lesson to heart now. All the same, she vowed: his days were numbered. Chapter 13: Caravanserai XIII Caravanserai In which Sheridan deals with Aristarchus Sheridan¡¯s nerves jangled. A week and three days since his last furtive meeting with Ironwing, and he hadn¡¯t found a way to speak to her since. Landfall was imminent, but his mistress was leaving this part in his hands. How pleasing that she trusted him so. And how terrifying. Easy enough for Ironwing to be confident. A dryad queen backed her authority, and even the Huntress offered Her assistance ¡­ ¡­ By sending an astral warrior. Why did the thought of such a being make him uneasy? Maybe all those stories he grew up with about foolish sorcerers coming to brutal ends at the hands of their infernal ¡°assistants¡±? Except he¡¯d never heard of astral warriors until one showed up. Flummoxed though he was, he reasoned to himself that it wasn¡¯t logical to map the behaviors of an abyssal onto the behaviors of a celestial. He dreaded becoming like those sorcerers who were so casual in their dealings with entities from Erebossa. Respect was due, whether the entity traveled from the Abyssal Serpent¡¯s realm, or the realm of the Everlasting Lands. Ironwing¡¯s interpretation of aid from the celestial guardians made sense, he decided. And his teacher never once gave him reason to doubt her wisdom. Which was fortunate, as he was obliged to put his faith in it now. Thrill and terror coexisted in a strange equilibrium in his heart and mind. Life was now more exciting than he ever dreamed, in ways he never expected. Traveling by boat, for instance. How had he never considered that he must do such a thing to explore the Gold Sea? And traversing the sea was an experience. For one thing, it obliged him to sleep in a bed. The rocking of the boat, and the length of time it took for him to gain his sea legs, discouraged Sheridan from his custom of sleeping on the floor. The first day of wrenching and heaving his innards found him staring in baleful contemplation at this odd bit of furniture. Would a bed be worth the effort? People must have a good reason for sleeping in the blasted things, right? Even Ironwing used one. Finally he figured it might be something to tell hypothetical grandchildren about. He gave it a go. It was strange. The bed was too soft, and he wondered if his back would be ruined. Still, though, it was exciting. And excitement was what he sought, wasn¡¯t it? Tranquility. The quintessence of life in Grandfather¡¯s cottage. Having nothing to compare it to, Sheridan felt only contentment at the quiet uneventfulness of his environment. Then he met outsiders. Strangers who came not only from beyond his forest, but from beyond even the lands beyond the forest. Two of them hailed from Rasena Valentis, and for the first time Sheridan heard of the Gold Sea. Ten years old and his mind awakened, with an appetite whetted for adventure. Passing peddlers provided him with scrolls and maps revealing to him the vastness of Lyrcania, and the breadth of the Gold Sea. Many lands, many many lands in and around the Gold Sea, all holding the promise of new and fascinating adventures. When Sheridan began to range beyond the distance he could travel and return home before sunset, Grandfather decided it was time: Sheridan must be trained. In his youth Grandfather had befriended an itinerant venator, a priest of the Huntress. To him he entrusted with cultivating Sheridan¡¯s affinity for the wilds, and his sense of stewardship over them. And so the priest trained Sheridan in the ways of the Huntress. On his fifteenth birthday Grandfather presented him the opportunity to journey to a temple to further his training. The venator explained, ¡°You would make a great priest, young man. You understand the way of our Exalted Eagle, and I believe you¡¯re a fit candidate to learn Her Mysteries.¡± So came his first journey, to a temple a two week¡¯s walk from the woods of Serica. For several years Sheridan trained and studied, until his teachers approached him one morning. ¡°There is a temple dedicated to the Huntress in Ebon Cove. If you would serve our goddess, prepare yourself and go there.¡± Ebon Cove. A city. A city. Shouldn¡¯t the temples of the Eagle Eyed One only be found in the wilderness? What was this one doing in a city? Then common sense caught up with him: a sorcerer¡¯s powers diminished in the absence of a temple to the deity they pledged allegiance to. They drew powers from the worship and sacrifices of the faithful. And of course, they themselves must make sacrifices upon the altars dedicated to their god or goddess. ¡°Something is afoot there,¡± the priest said. ¡°I think you will find your skills are needed, if not your unswerving devotion. Go.¡± Coming to Ebon Cove introduced the side effect of encountering a multitude of people, more than he ever met before in his life. Before he could fully adjust to the experience the priests introduced him to Ironwing. To this day Sheridan was unsure what he thought of her. The isolation he grew up with gave him little to compare her to, but he already understood she was unsettling. Add living with her into the mix, and well ¡­ he still wasn¡¯t sure. Too many aspects of her left him mystified, and not only because she was the youngest woman he ever talked to for any length of time. Now he had to pretend to be someone else, even though he yet had a shaky grip on how to blend in with society as himself. Silence. That was Sheridan¡¯s policy: say as little as possible. Let Aristarchus feel the silence, let him talk, and he would engrave a target on every bullet in Sheridan¡¯s sling, as it were. And boy did the man talk. Something troubled the smuggler. So much so he spent the first part of their voyage ranting about the extreme disruption Ironwing inflicted on his business. Oh, he didn¡¯t name her¡ªhe didn¡¯t realize she existed. All he knew were the consequences of her actions, but the flayers had loomed large in everyone¡¯s talk with him. The flayers distracted him so much he didn¡¯t look too deeply into the cause of his misfortune. At first Aristarchus attributed happenstance to the flayers¡¯ attack on Fellrath. Because Fellrath was his protector and facilitated his operations, it made sense Fellrath¡¯s death resulted in disaster. It would have to, wouldn¡¯t it? The timing was bad, that¡¯s all. But when Sheridan revealed the flayers were targeting everyone involved in abducting the dryads, Aristarchus lost his everlovin¡¯ mind. It took all of Sheridan¡¯s strength to block the door of his cabin and prevent the hysterical man from running out to the secret compartment to retrieve the sarcophagus. The man wanted to heave it into the depths, but Sheridan appealed to his probable fear of the Sea Lord. ¡°Maybe the Great Dragon King won¡¯t be indifferent about you drowning the daughter of the Huntress. Leave the thing alone.¡± Aristarchus then wanted to open the sarcophagus and throw himself on the mercy of the dryad he thought was trapped inside. But as the ornate stone coffin was filled only with honey ¡ª the usual preservative for long-distance transport of the dead ¡ª Sheridan was forced to stoke the man¡¯s terror. ¡°Will she listen to you? Or will she summon a flayer to eat you alive? Better to get her to the other side and deliver her to an aerie. Tell the priests there to open the sarcophagus at sunset or sunrise or whichever time gives you enough of a head start so they can¡¯t pursue you.¡± Lyrcanians referred to the temples of the Huntress as aeries, partially because they were frequently built in mountains or hill summits; Sheridan assumed they were also called such in other nations as well. The idea didn¡¯t calm Aristarchus for he had another worry, one more immediately apt to inflict agony: Ironwing had cost him money. The Watch¡¯s raid on his cargo resulted in several lucrative lost sales, and the loss of valuable contraband. Buyers he had lined up in Xia now would be cheated of the goods they had made a down payment on. He owed other ¡®associates¡¯ money, and his lost commissions severely compromised his ability to pay that money. So, Lyrcania¡¯s waters were at a simmer for him, and he needed to flee before they boiled over entirely. To the Western Reaches he would seek refuge, or to Gandhar at the very least. Every day Sheridan listened to Aristarchus run down different strategies to overcome his circumstances. Sheridan indulged him with sympathetic noises. Really? Oh, my. What a shame. How awful for you. By the Huntress he missed Ironwing! She who never spoke unless she had something to say! An endearing trait she shared with Grandfather. Aristarchus acted as if he were under a compulsion spell to speak, but he did so to little purpose. If only he would reveal enough secrets to justify the noise he made! Aristarchus perked up after they made landfall on the Isle of Katabasis. He sussed out old contacts, and called in a few favors. ¡°They¡¯ll pacify my buyers in Xia,¡± he reported to Sheridan when he returned to the ship. ¡°Might even dream of showing my face there again. Damn that Watch! Damn that Palamara bastard to the outer Abyss! If only the Lords of Chaos had managed to kill him, then I wouldn¡¯t be in this mess.¡± ¡°Uh-hmm,¡± Sheridan murmured. The lout believed ignorance superior to valor, so why enlighten him? From the way Aristarchus spoke, he knew of the shadow faction, but not the who or what about them. Only that Junius had held them on his leash, and they did his bidding. While on the one hand, staying with Aristarchus seemed less useful if the man wasn¡¯t going to enlighten him, on the other hand Ironwing hadn¡¯t given him leave to change course. Besides, Aristarchus had yet to reveal where he took the dryads. So Sheridan accompanied Aristarchus when they disembarked, and remained with him when they entered the Riftwater Gate. A rippling pool of light that shocked his senses even at a distance when he came within fifty feet of it, and astonished him utterly when at last he stepped through it. On the other side of the gate the lush lands of Anshan beckoned. In the days to come Sheridan would regard the landscape as a forager¡¯s delight: nettles for medicine, rope, or fabric. Hawthorns for the medlar, although it was much simpler to buy the harvested fruits which had been bletted and turned into treats he bought in street markets. The persimmons he plucked as he pleased, along with the almonds. In the meantime he found the time to slip away, and pass along a message to Tregarde. The sorcerer. While the man was a fellow huntsman, it wasn¡¯t lost on Sheridan that the sorcerers of Ebon Cove were corrupt. Maybe it was because he spent so much time with Ironwing investigating the Brotherhood, but from where he stood all Ironwing should have had to do was sound the alarm, and all of the other sorcerers should have joined together in hunting and slaying Fellrath & Friends. That other venatori in Ebon Cove permitted Fellrath to go unchecked for so many years served as a warning to Sheridan: trust no sorcerer who was not directly allied with Ironwing. The cases he worked with her tested so many of his assumptions. Tests in which the city itself was found wanting. Now from out of the aether comes a sorcerer committed to the Huntress? Devout and able in serving Her? How¡­convenient. Was it not more likely Tregarde served the agents of Erebossa, if not Fellrath? Somehow, Sheridan must find a way to test Tregarde the way Ironwing said he¡¯d tested her. The sorcerer could knife Ironwing in the back when she least expected it, or find a way to thwart her from their mission. To spy on her, or kill her¡ªthese he was well-placed to do, if he possessed the will to do so. Thus, what terror haunted Sheridan on the voyage was not for himself, but for Ironwing: might Tregarde throw her overboard? For her sake Sheridan prayed to the Huntress, that the Exalted Mother would spring on Tregarde any trap he set for Her faithful servant. When he was finished with Aristarchus he was going to find out Tregarde¡¯s intentions once and for all. Five grueling hours after passing through the Gate, the inspectors released them. Most of the crew of the Obsidian Stinger remained on the other side of the Gate, but Aristarchus brought along enough to form a small party to bring himself and Sheridan to a caravanserai a mile beyond the Gate. An underground caravanserai. This detail fascinated Sheridan, and he hoped to have time to explore this wayfarer¡¯s resting stop. Partly an inn, a bathhouse, a marketplace, and whatever else, the caravanserai seemed a wondrous place. A place Aristarchus must visit often, because he proved to have a ¡®usual¡¯ suite. The staff at the caravanserai knew him, and took care to confirm which of his favorite refreshments and amenities they should bring to him. Which meant, Sheridan noted, that Aristarchus lived as a man who never expected to be prey: he should have left a well-marked trail for them to follow. Proof of this came swiftly enough, when the innkeeper handed Aristarchus a stack of sealed letters, all addressed to him. In the sitting room of his sumptuous suite Aristarchus tore through the seals and read the letters. With each one he became more and more agitated, until the final letter when he rose up from his couch, seized a vase and hurled it against the wall. He let out a shout so fierce Sheridan was tempted to make himself scarce. But he kept his nerve. ¡°Anything I can do?¡± Aristarchus kicked over a tripod bearing another vase and let the vase shatter at his feet. Heedless of the sharp fragments now littering the floor he stalked to the one chest he hadn¡¯t had sent to his bedroom. From this chest he brought forth a cipher cylinder. Black obsidian glass gleamed in the glowlights suspended from the ceiling as Aristarchus held up the cylinder, and turned it over in his hands. Memory overtook Sheridan, of the vanished doors and windows of Junius Fellrath¡¯s study. And of the singular threat represented by the monster figure guarding the cylinder. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Soul thief. So Ironwing named the monster later, after her visit with the dryad queen. Every muscle in Sheridan¡¯s body contracted. It took him longer than he liked to tamp down all signs of nervousness before he ventured to ask, ¡°What do you do with that thing?¡± No need to feign or suppress curiosity; the cylinder was unusual enough that only a dullard would not openly wonder about it. Or so Sheridan gambled. If Fellrath¡¯s top men could be believed, then very few in the Brotherhood would have seen those cylinders. Aristarchus smiled wolfishly. ¡°Insurance. Raw power. And a way out for me.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Did Aristarchus¡¯s cylinder also contain the ¡°nectar¡± of the abyssals? ¡°Does that thing summon monsters of your choice? I see the leukrokrotta, and lamia, and the wolf sign¡ª¡± ¡°Yeah, this doesn¡¯t do that, boy.¡± Aristarchus returned to the couches and set the cylinder on the low table between his couch and Sheridan¡¯s. ¡°My buyers in Xia might be appeased, but that damn Palamara cost me far too much over on this side. Thought I could sail here ahead of the news and tell it in my own way, but with Junius dead¡±¡ªhe exhaled through his teeth¡ª¡°I can¡¯t sail faster than a call globe.¡± Right, Junius had wielded the power to transport ships extraordinary distances in the blink of an eye. ¡°What do they know? The people on this side?¡± Only one of the letters, carelessly tossed to the floor, was visible from Sheridan¡¯s vantage point. Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t recognize whatever language it was written in. ¡°What do you think? My lost cargo this, and my lost cargo that. Oooh, I¡¯ll rip that Palamara¡¯s tongue out and make him eat it! Oh, and they found out about him, too, that he¡¯s watching, and I can¡¯t take a piss in Lyrcania without him knowing about it.¡± The smuggler¡¯s stubby fingers hovered over the cylinder monster. Sheridan held his breath. True to form, Aristarchus filled the silence. ¡°Junius had him a covenant with the Queen, and it covers me. Limits my options, though. Still have one move to make, with what I¡¯ve got in here.¡± He tapped the cylinder. ¡°If this doesn¡¯t work I¡¯m dead. So now comes the time you make yourself useful to me, boy.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Sheridan said cautiously. Then he decided on another gamble. ¡°Look, I¡¯m not sure about this Covenant¡ªI¡¯m just an errand boy, right? But if it comes down to knives out I¡¯ll watch your back if you¡¯re watching mine. Tell me what you need.¡± For several uncomfortable moments Aristarchus eyed him. ¡°Yes. Yeah, I think you are going to help me. Listen up.¡±
They met in a backroom, near the stables. Precisely at noon, when the sun climbed to its zenith in the sky above ground. A significant time, especially if sorcery was afoot, or so Sheridan learned during his training. Sometimes the sun¡¯s location mattered even when the spell casters were conducting subterranean conferences. ¡°Timon, old boy, you came,¡± Zenon trilled, in what Sheridan learned was an Anshani accent. Though he bowed low, he kept his eyes raised. Assessing them, as Sheridan assessed him in turn: Rich man who clothed his wiry frame in fine silk trousers and a smart tunic. Anshani fashions, as Sheridan concluded based on the passersby thronging the caravanserai. So. This was the Anshan side of Fellrath¡¯s operation. Aristarchus smiled tightly. He took Zenon¡¯s hand in his own and kissed his gold signet ring. ¡°Fine fettle you look to be in, my friend. Life has been good to you?¡± ¡°Indeed. And you? Have you a new errand boy?¡± He eyed Sheridan with open curiosity. ¡°Point of fact, Zenon, he¡¯s for you. A learned scribe, to educate your children. I found him in Lyrcania, and he can speak Pelasgian ever so fancy. And Rasenan, too.¡± The cover story Aristarchus came up with, and Sheridan agreed to play along. So he looked his most biddable and only nodded, mute. Zenon was astonished by Aristarchus¡¯s generosity. What had he done to deserve such favor? An apt question, and the most sensible thing Sheridan had heard all day in Aristarchus¡¯s presence. ¡°Besides being a faithful and loyal business partner? Of course, you need him more than I do. Did you bring the good wine? Let¡¯s drink.¡± This was Aristarchus being charming? Huh. Zenon¡¯s always been a slippery weasel. Tells two lies for one truth. With this nectar he won¡¯t put one by me. I¡¯ll know when he lies. But when I speak he¡¯ll fall in line. Can¡¯t resist me. Not with this in my blood. When it¡¯s all over, he¡¯ll be on my leash. So Aristarchus said, before putting the bottle of fell liquid to his lips and knocking it back. A chance to discover what powers an Erebossan¡¯s ichor conferred upon the one who consumed it, and for this reason alone Sheridan decided not to slip away. Zenon gestured to a little table he¡¯d already prepared. Only two chairs, which naturally excluded Sheridan. The excuse he needed to stand behind Aristarchus and size up the three bodyguards trailing in Zenon¡¯s wake. Of course Aristarchus didn¡¯t bring any guards. Why should he, with infernal blood in his veins? What threat could any mortal man pose to him? Nor was he counting on Sheridan to protect him, as he didn¡¯t provide him with any weapons. Neither did he know Sheridan carried his own weapons, carefully hidden on his person. All the same, Zenon¡¯s guards were not soft men. They loomed over Sheridan. Fighting them head on would be sheer folly on his part, given his sparse experience with hand-to-hand combat. Shots from his bow scared off poachers without him standing face to face with them. Outlaws tended to give Grandfather¡¯s cabin a wide berth, on account of patrols by venatori such as Grandfather¡¯s friend. Instead of fighting, Sheridan¡¯s own skills ran to tracking. Quarry did not evade him, absent cunning stratagems. Whether four-legged prey in the countryside, or two-legged in the city, if Sheridan set out to hunt for it, he found it. This fact he took pride in, because he didn¡¯t require sorcery, just skills he spent a lifetime cultivating and honing. From the time he learned to walk Grandfather insisted Sheridan learn the mundane methods of being a huntsman. Our Huntress blesses those who learn Her ways to the best of their abilities. Don¡¯t call on Her for every little thing you could do yourself, if you but make the effort. However. In a crowded marketplace, the multitude of travelers created too many variables. Which meant Sheridan took the practical option of laying a trail by imprinting his aura on certain objects he passed by as he walked in the wake of Aristarchus. Ironwing¡ªor Tregarde¡ªwould read his auras with ease. They would know if he sensed danger, and be on their guard as well. Zenon poured. As though he were a man of refined tastes, Aristarchus sniffed at the wine in his cup. A cup wrought of beautiful cameo glass depicting frolicking naiads, the sort of object Ironwing referred to as ¡°a work of skilled hands.¡± ¡°Ah, you did bring the good stuff,¡± Aristarchus said, smiling widely. ¡°To many more successes¡ª¡± ¡°Not so fast,¡± Zenon interrupted. ¡°I don¡¯t wish to be crass, but there is still the matter of your delivery. I notice you have brought no men with you to carry anything. Should I take that as a sign?¡± ¡°A sign of what?¡± Zenon glanced at his bodyguards. ¡°Do you think me unaware of events in Ebon Cove? The flayers. Junius Fellrath. Did you know the temple has fallen as well? Haven¡¯t peeled the full onion on that one, but something scary happened there. And the next day, those damn huntsmen destroyed it.¡± Raised eyebrows from Aristarchus. ¡°The temple fell? That¡¯s news to me. Are you sure it¡¯s gone? Who could have done that?¡± ¡°Reports are still coming in. I keep hearing one name, though. Someone they wanted to take down, a battle priestess of the city watch. And I hear tell she¡¯s the one who summoned the flayers. Our people captured her and brought her in. Couple hours later, she walked out. By herself, so Markos tells it. Every priest who was in the temple that night is dead.¡± Zenon watched Aristarchus¡¯s face. ¡°I¡¯m confused,¡± Aristarchus said. ¡°Who is this priestess? Flayers this, flayers that¡ªit¡¯s all those whoresons at the Watch went on about. Flayers killed Junius. Bastard Watchmen robbed me. I barely got away before they snatched the smallclothes off my ass. Now you tell me we ran an operation against an agent of a False One? Who authorized that? Why didn¡¯t I hear about it?¡± ¡°You make it sound as if they answer to you.¡± Sheridan¡¯s ears perked up. Aristarchus¡¯s nostrils flared, like a bull¡¯s. ¡°Don¡¯t talk like I¡¯m some lackey. Do you have any idea what this cock-up has done to my business? I want a name. Who ran this so-called raid? Rav? Clawfoot? If they¡¯re that damned sloppy they need to be replaced.¡± By the smile playing on Zenon¡¯s lips, Sheridan suspected he was enjoying some measure of power over Aristarchus. Apparently in Fellrath¡¯s Brotherhood, power and control went to whomever hoarded the most knowledge. ¡°To what end? Soon enough, none of this will matter,¡± Zenon said. ¡°My word is my bond on this; trust me. I suggest you hide yourself somewhere safe place, Timon. The Eel will be sweeping in soon, as per the best of my sources. Keep alert for news in the West. And get yourself right. Anybody found wanting is gonna wanna stay far, far away.¡± Aristarchus grabbed the front of Zenon¡¯s tunic and yanked, forcing Zenon to lean over the table. Everyone started, with Zenon¡¯s guards gripping their sword hilts and Sheridan sidestepping to the right. The better to get closer to the door. Unsurprisingly the infernal effluent made Aristarchus short tempered, but did it also confer unnatural speed? Could he intercept Sheridan before he made it thirty feet to the door? ¡°Stay away? Why?¡± Aristarchus demanded. ¡°I got the dryad. The last one out, looks like. Going straight to the Eye. The Eel¡¯s got no cause to be angry with me. Lies! Every word that passes your teeth is a lie!¡± Now Zenon¡¯s men moved in. One of them grabbed Aristarchus¡¯s neck, and shoved him back. Zenon collapsed on the table top, knocking over the cups. Red wine spilled, pouring over the table and cascading to the floor. Followed by blood. With one hand Aristarchus seized the bodyguard¡¯s forearm, and with his left he sliced into the guard¡¯s inner elbow and kept going. The bodyguard screamed, looking from his bloody stump to the forearm still in Aristarchus¡¯s hands. What would haunt Sheridan was the expression on Aristarchus¡¯s face. The man stared in obvious confusion at the arm in his hands. His eyes grew wide and his lips trembled as horror took over. Then, almost as quickly, his expression hardened, his mouth formed a rictus ¡­ and something inhuman looked out through his eyes. Cackling with wild abandon, Aristarchus wielded the man¡¯s forearm like a club, knocking him out. Zenon righted himself, gaining his feet and scrambling back. Sheridan and Zenon¡¯s guards skipped backwards. ¡°Timon!¡± Zenon cried. Aristarchus shoved aside the table, clearing a path to Zenon. Frozen in place, Zenon stared dumbly at Aristarchus, but the lone sorcerer in his guardsmen proved to have faster reflexes. The sorcerer whipped out his wand and shouted. In the blink of an eye the tip of his wand bloomed red. Sparks burst and flared on Aristarchus¡¯s clothes. In three heartbeats he became a human fire lamp. Yet still he moved. Aristarchus growled. Still holding the first guard¡¯s arm, he swung for the third guard. Crunch. The man fell to the floor. Fire swirled about him, burning away his clothes, but Aristarchus was not consumed: his skin remained unburnt. This time Zenon¡¯s cries were wordless, accompanied by sobs. Trembling, he cowered behind his sorcerer, who in turn danced sideways, desperate to escape the flaming maniac. Sheridan found his voice. ¡°Run!¡± Aristarchus lunged. He narrowly missed the sorcerer. The guard bolted, brushing past Sheridan as Zenon fell forward, landing flat on his face. Aristarchus wheeled. Zenon screamed again. There was no time to even think about it. Sheridan reached into his tunic and pulled out the flintlock. Don¡¯t panic. Don¡¯t panic. DON¡¯T. PANIC! His hand shook. No precision shot was needed here; it sufficed to aim for the body in general. He fired. Aristarchus recoiled. He clutched at his heart. Zenon busied himself screaming and trying to stand up. He managed to half crabwalk and half rise before finding his feet again. He dashed past Sheridan. The flames subsided. Aristarchus dropped to his knees. Blood trickled down his chin. He stared at Sheridan, brown eyes wide with astonishment. He started to speak, but blood bubbled out first. Sheridan edged to the door. He was not sure what would happen if he killed the man. Would a demon be unleashed? Or would he die like any other man? ¡°By the Huntress. What a party we missed, eh Saka?¡± Sheridan spun on his heel. Ironwing and Tregarde had arrived. ¡°Contain him, Tregarde,¡± Ironwing ordered. ¡°One abyssal container, coming right up,¡± Tregarde said. With a snap of his fingers, a silvery bubble enveloped Aristarchus. The sea captain tried once more to speak, but all that came out was a wheeze this time. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. The death rattle was unsettling, loud and shifting, the way the air was disturbed when a large dragon was flying overhead. Sheridan jumped back; Ironwing coolly kept her eyes on Aristarchus. She reached inside her tunic and pulled out her astrolabe, which she¡¯d transferred to a necklace. She eyed Aristarchus. Sheridan calmed. It had taken a few minutes for the abyssals to rise from the shadow priests, he remembered. Ironwing must have wanted to find out exactly how long it took. ¡°Are you hurt?¡± she asked. Sheridan shook his head at first, but she still wasn¡¯t looking at him so he forced himself to speak. ¡°Nothing happened to me. I think Aristarchus meant to do something to the wine, but Zenon didn¡¯t drink it. Zenon!¡± Ironwing jerked her head up. Sheridan explained. Ironwing narrowed her eyes. ¡°The Eye again. And now an Eel?¡± Without warning the body began to shrivel. Mottled skin turned various shades of green and grey as it wrinkled, as though pulled close like a drawstring bag. Nothing further happened, though, and Ironwing snapped her watch shut. ¡°Tregarde,¡± she said. She reached into her satchel and pulled out an iron stylus. The sorcerer took it. He reached inside the shield and slashed into what was left of Aristarchus¡¯s chest. By the time he handed the instrument to her, Ironwing had already taken out her blood codex. She wrote his name with a swift, sure hand. Ink snaked down the page, forming words. Names. Sheridan¡¯s heart skipped a beat; the magic of the book unnerved him. Ironwing slammed the book shut. ¡°Zenon.¡±
But Zenon had to wait. Alia¡¯s first priority was the disposal of Aristarchus¡¯s body, which she accomplished by burning it with holy fire fueled by dragon¡¯s blood. It was safer that way. The other two bodies were less readily disposed of, but Alia had an idea. Finding Zenon was but the work of a moment. All they had to do was follow the echo of shouts to the epicenter of the hysterical racket in the caravanserai¡¯s antechamber. Zenon was arguing back and forth with the innkeeper. He was forced to divide his attention between the keeper and his porters, but it looked as if sheer force of will and persistent shouting was going to win the day. Alia stepped forward. She screamed. It came out loud and piercing, and several people clamped their hands over their ears. With everyone¡¯s eyes on her, Alia dramatically unfurled her arm, extending her index finger unmistakably in Zenon¡¯s direction. ¡°He¡¯s the killer!¡± she cried. ¡°He killed those men! Oh my stars. Oh my goodness, he¡¯s the killer! Arrest that man!¡± Silence. Alia put a little more effort into it, trying to do what she thought Serafina would do if she were in one of her plays. Suddenly, the others moved. Guards swarmed out of nowhere, surrounding Zenon. One of them came over to Alia, and gently asked her to explain. In dramatic fashion she recounted hearing the screams of the men and seeing Zenon run from the room. Though he babbled frantically, Zenon could not overcome the guards¡¯ instincts to pay heed to a beauteous damsel in distress. Thus, they dragged him away, to be taken to the local authorities. The crowd dispersed, the excitement over. ¡°You know we¡¯re just gonna have to break him out of there,¡± Tregarde pointed out, drawing even with her. He and Sheridan had hung back. ¡°Unnecessary,¡± Alia assured him. ¡°We just need Zenon out of the way so Sheridan can slip in with his men, and they will take us to the place they¡¯re sending the dryads.¡± Tregarde arched an eyebrow. ¡°Removing an enemy from the battlefield in plain sight, without him realizing you¡¯re his enemy? Impressive, ¡®Lady Saka.¡¯ Impressive indeed.¡± Chapter 14: The Night of the Burning Sky XIV The Night of the Burning Sky Zenon¡¯s people hadn¡¯t attempted to spring him before the caravan moved on from the caravanserai where he was arrested, having a higher priority in mind: the sarcophagus. As bait it served Alia¡¯s purposes well enough; Sheridan had conveniently left Aristarchus¡¯s suite unlocked so Zenon¡¯s men could enter. Their master¡¯s terror was infectious, and Sheridan¡¯s calm made them latch on to him. As Alia expected, they allowed him to continue guarding the sarcophagus when they moved on. However, they were not so scared as to trust him absolutely; therefore, he was stationed with the baggage carts. Though left out of the other men¡¯s conversations at first, he used every opportunity he could to inspect their goods ¡ª and keep the men from opening the empty sarcophagus. The new ¡®porters¡¯ slipped in with another caravan the same afternoon Zenon was arrested. Fortunately the caravan was large enough for new strangers to gounnoticed, and Alia had considered it worth the risk of joining them. Each night they came to a new caravanserai, until two nights ago, when they ventured into a trackless desert waste en route to Elamis, the declared destination of Zenon¡¯s people. The lord will take them thither, to the Eye That Sees All. If Elamis was the end point, then it had to be the location of the sinister personage spoken of in the letter of marque: the Eye That Sees All. The shadow queen? Or a mortal being? The thought of encountering whatever might fit such a description was enough to send a ripple of fear down her spine. Several nights later Alia awakened to screams. She bolted upright on her cot, in a campaign tent she had bought before leaving the last caravanserai. Within three heartbeats her eyes adjusted to the dark, but before then she put her hands on her sacred moonbow steel knives. Armed, she stilled herself and listened. Footsteps rushed to and fro outside her tent. Shouts, not of anger, but of terror. No telltale sounds of steel striking flesh and bone. No roars or growls from a beast, no threats from a human. Whatever frightened the people, it was likely at a distance. But perhaps coming fast ¡­ Alia opened one flap of her tent and peered out. She froze. Eerie lights bestowed perfect clarity on the chaotic scene before her. Lights not of the moon, but colors she had not known could shine down in the night sky: Green. Violet. Red. What was happening? Alia stepped out and looked up. She gasped. Jewel-colored flames lit the sky, waves and waves of emerald fire undulating and rippling in the heavens. At the edges the green gave way to either ruby or amethyst. Where the sky was not green, twinkling stars shone forth, proof of night. ¡°The Hound,¡± Alia whispered. On this night, the faithful companion of the Huntress glimmered brightest of any stars in the sky. On the eve of spring the sun entered the house of the Hound, heralding the coming of the Huntress for the equinox. But on this night, days from the winter solstice, what did his appearance mean? ¡°Oof!¡± a woman blundered into her. The dazed look in her eyes suggested she didn¡¯t even realize she had struck Alia; and at any ate she staggered away. Alia kept her balance, and resumed her skygazing. Did the fiery sky represent signs or portents? No lore she knew shed any light on this strange¡ªwhat time was it? She checked her pocket watch, which hung from her neck. At this time of the year dawn came late, and it was only four hours past midnight at any rate. Too soon on this night to attribute the jewel flames to the sun. Something was afoot. ¡°Saka!¡± Alia didn¡¯t answer, forgetting her alias until Tregarde yanked on her arm. She spun to face him, raising one of her knives. Tregarde recoiled and let her go. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± They shouted as one. Sheridan came running up to them, repeating the same question. Alia hugged herself, and the men suddenly fixed their eyes on hers. ¡°A most unusual mystery. Does it have anything to do with Erebossa? Or is this something else?¡± Her heart leapt into her throat. What if Fellrath¡¯s death had set off a chain of consequences she hadn¡¯t anticipated? Shahin and the others had referred to Fellrath as holding the Lords of Chaos on a leash. Without him, what might they do? With no one to answer to, and no one to control them, why wouldn¡¯t they open the shadow gates? No. Panic not. Eldritch lights in the sky did not necessarily mean the shadow gates were open. Neither her mother nor her aunts ever once mentioned such a consequence to opening shadow gates. What happened in the heavens did not necessarily require an Erebossan agent. But could the Lords of Chaos be involved some other way? The idea persisted, no matter how much she tried to talk herself out of it. She glanced at Sheridan, who was staring intently at her face. Did he want her to assure them there was nothing unholy afoot? But she lacked any basis for such assurance. She lowered her knives. ¡°We should patrol the camp. Whatever comes, let us not be taken unawares.¡± It was the only productive channel she could think of to direct their fear and vigilance. Tregarde and Sheridan exchanged a glance, then nodded their assent to her plan. The men rushed off to their own tents. Inside her own tent Alia hurriedly dressed, certain that walking about in her chemise and pantaloons might interfere with her authority. Especially since the fabric, white nainsook muslin embroidered with tiny roses, was a trifle fine. It had only just occurred to her why Tregarde and Sheridan had been so steadfast about meeting her eyes. It underscored for her that humans had rules about appropriate clothing; it was not enough for her to wear any at all. For a moment she considered wearing her priestly attire. As a priestess she could serve as a comforting figure. The people needed comfort, they needed order, and she could make herself useful to that end. But in the end she opted for a more straightforward trouser and tunic set. In the long term, she needed to keep her cover. While her enemies believed she was still in Ebon Cove, she could do some good in Anshan. More to the point, there was too much at stake for her to lightly toss aside her cover. The men met Alia outside her tent. Tregarde was armed, with his Ellura wand and sacred knives sheathed in his armor belt. Wise of him, she noted. The sorcerer could get away with revealing himself as a huntsman, and he could potentially fill her official role. As they walked she said, ¡°Let¡¯s find the caravan master. Offer our services, Tregarde. He¡¯ll allow you and Sheridan to patrol, but will probably expect me to ¡®stay safe.¡¯ I¡¯ll do whatever else he thinks of.¡± The caravan master turned out to be too much in shock to say anything coherent. His chief guardsman was trying to get him to come back to his right mind. ¡°Do we pack up, or stay here?¡± the guardsman asked. Alia had considered the question already. Whether the Lords of Chaos were abroad or not, sending so many panicked people headlong into the deserts couldn¡¯t end well. They needed to calm down the other travelers and convince them to stay put. ¡°Excuse me,¡± Tregarde said. ¡°We¡¯d like to lend a hand if we may. I¡¯m a Watch officer from out of Lyrcania.¡± The guard and the caravan master looked up at him in surprise. ¡°What?¡± the caravan master sputtered. ¡°What? A watchman? You¡¯re a watchman? Can you fix the sky?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure there¡¯s an explanation for the sky, but that¡¯s not the biggest worry right now. Right now we need to calm everyone down and fortify the camp. If anything is coming for us, we need to be ready. If nothing comes for us, we need to keep people from running to their deaths in the desert. Agreed?¡± The guard seized on Tregarde¡¯s words. Quickly, they worked out a plan. As it turned out, the camp already employed an official priest, so Alia helpfully suggested having the priest sing to catch the attention of the frightened travelers. As a priest he would provide a comforting focus, which should calm the travelers enough to get them to listen to any other orders. The caravan master came back to his senses, and endorsed the plan. For the rest of the morning Alia helped corral people to the center of the camp. The songs worked, and Alia suspected part of the songs¡¯ success was the result of sorcery. Or maybe it was just because the people wanted to believe. On such an unsettling morning surely the gods must be watching over them. Surely the Hound shone so brightly in his run through the uncanny skies because the Huntress meant them to be comforted and unafraid. Alia joined in the prayers and the singing, but she kept her eyes sharp, looking out for anyone who seemed out of place. Who was unafraid? Who seemed pleased by the turn of events? Who was trying to keep everyone frightened? From the corner of her eye she watched over Zenon¡¯s contacts. Ever mindful of the girl who focused so much on the rabbit she was hunting that she didn¡¯t see the fox until it struck, Alia made a point of looking around at others as well. But no one else stood out. Yes, a few people who seemed determined to be hysterical, and they reveled in bolstering the panic, but Alia had expected them. As a watch officer she¡¯d seen people who thrived on chaos and tragedy. Spiritual vultures, or so she named them, for they feasted on the misfortune of others and derived satisfaction from it. Spitefulness accounted for them, not the supernatural. ¡°We¡¯re going to die! We¡¯re going to die! Oh by the gods, we¡¯re going to die!¡± one of the criers closest to Alia wailed. Alia¡¯s lips thinned. Telling the wailer to quiet down wouldn¡¯t help. She would resist any efforts to get the attention off her, as much as she was resisting bystanders¡¯ attempts to comfort her. When she encountered such people as a Watch-Huntress, Alia would appeal to theirconscience¡ªseeing adults go to pieces upset children, please be silent for their sake. Be a pillar of strength others could look to, she would suggest. For some it worked, but others didn¡¯t care; they were convinced nothing could be done to alleviate the children¡¯s fears, so why not stoke it instead? Whichever way the woman fell, she must not be permitted to rile up the people. Time to put everyone to work. Alia approached the guards again, and this time suggested they recruit volunteers amongst the people. People needed to keep their minds occupied, and they need to feel some sense of control over their situation, she pointed out. Give them something to latch onto before everyone gave over to wailing and shrieking. She made suggestions for different functions the travelers could fulfill. The guards agreed. The chief guard addressed the crowd, and Alia sighed in relief when he put her plan into action. Anyone wanting to sow chaos now would be walking into headwinds; the people would turn on anyone who hindered their efforts to protect themselves. And it was during this shuffling about that one of Zenon¡¯s men slipped away. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. He walked into the desert, unnoticed by any except Alia. A trap. If she followed, and she was caught, she would be outing herself ¡­ the same trap she¡¯d set for Zenon¡¯s agents to reveal themselves by retrieving the sarcophagus. If she did not follow, she was losing a golden opportunity to find out whether or not the Lords of Chaos had caused the sky¡¯s chromatic display. Or, what sort of ritual might be carried out on such a night. Then she remembered her weapons hidden beneath her long tunic. If the man should catch her, the desert would bury him. On such a night as this, she might defend herself without alerting the rest of Zenon¡¯s men to her presence. She followed. Walking stick in hand, the man¡¯s brisk steps took him to the west of the caravan. In his footsteps she walked, stepping only when he stepped. If he were listening on the wind she would not be heard. He would only realize she was following him if he bothered to look back. But not once did he look back. Nevertheless, Alia mentally rehearsed the excuse she would give to him if he did see her. She wrapped a light shawl around her head and shoulders, casting a shadow over her face. Between the shadows and the green lights her features should be distorted or obscured enough to prevent him from recognizing her if he saw her again in broad daylight. Only once did she look back. No one followed her. In the distance, the lights of the camp glowed, a beacon in the eerie night. The man stopped at last, and Alia halted, too. He took his stick and began to draw a circle in the sand. A summoning circle. Her heart leapt in her throat. Was he going to summon the queen? No, the thought was ridiculous, the man was but a lackey, and should lack sufficient power to call upon a king¡ªa queen Erebossan. But a lesser being might be within his power. Perhaps whatever he summoned might be the lackey of the queen, which might be worth knowing. He completed the circle. ¡°Hail Rihat, wielder of the Flail! Hail Rihat, who dwells in whispers and dreams! Hail Rihat, the one who abides forever! Come now to your friend Nicanor, son of Galenos.¡± Black plumes heralded the arrival of a hideous creature. Small, winged, it looked like a freakish version of a sylph, with iridescent feathers in place of gossamer wings. Fish scales covered its sinuous body. ¡°What do the lights mean? Does the Eel rise in the West? Has our time now come?¡± Nicanor asked. Rihat¡¯s answer was swift. ¡°The Eel does battle in the West this very night. Hold until I bring you word. Be ready, your time is not now.¡± ¡°Battle?¡± ¡°Rejoice, for an adversary will fall this very night.¡± ¡°To the shadows with you, Flail of our queen.¡± Rihat vanished. Nicanor banished the circle. He hurried by, not even noticing Alia, who crouched low to the ground. After several heartbeats Alia forced herself to follow the same procedure as before. Her training came as second nature, so she managed to divide her attention enough to brood over what she¡¯d heard. An eel. Rising. Nothing good could come of whatever being answered to such a description. And who was the eel¡¯s enemy? Unlikely to be another native of Erebossa. More likely, it was someone like Alia herself. She looked up, and focused on the Hound. What manner of battle could make the sky burn like this? What could be happening over in the West? Alia sent up her own prayer. ¡°Eagle Eyed One, be exalted: Your servant requests aid for another. I beseech you to turn your gaze this night upon the adversary of our enemies. Exalted One, may it be that no servant of your cause is defeated this night. May it be that no enemy of yours prevails this night.¡± The sounds of laughter and wonder came first to her ears when she returned to camp. Everyone looked more relaxed now, and children had stopped crying. When the sun finally showed itself everyone clapped and whistled and cheered. The caravan master had come back to himself entirely by then, and promptly organized everyone to get moving again. Daylight bestowed courage, and the travelers were now more apt to listen to ideas. ¡°We¡¯ll get to Elamis in two nights,¡± he told them. ¡°But I must drive a fast pace. We¡¯re not going to leave anyone behind, but I will need you all to be prepared to keep up. Understood?¡± No one argued with him. The thought of being caught in the open again on a night like the one they woke up to was daunting enough. They¡¯d spent only a few hours that way, but an entire night? By the gods, no. The porters and guards did their jobs with formidable efficiency. Soon enough, they were moving again. The caravan stopped only at checkpoints, but as the caravan master promised they maintained a fast pace. They were on their way.
Nightfall of the first night arrived without incident, and best of all without the uncanny display they¡¯d seen in the hours before dawn. During the day Alia rode in a more central part of the caravan, closer to women and families. But as a lone man, Tregarde rode on camelback along the outer edges of the caravan. Under cover of darkness; however, he joined Alia¡¯s campaign tent, along with Sheridan. The men¡¯s eyes lit up when she presented them with a tray of sweets on a low table in the center of her tent. After a long day with bare rations, with dust and grit stinging their eyes and the sun beating down on them, this was a treat indeed. ¡°So prettily arranged,¡± Tregarde said with a bemused smile. By habit Alia organized everything in a functional and attractive order, and food was no exception. An outer ring of golden koolechehs ¡ª stamped cookies stuffed with dates and walnuts, and spiced with zested oranges and cinnamon ¡ª surrounded a succession of inner rings. A thin ring of tiny square-cut pistachio nougats separated the cookies from little cakes cut into a flower petal shape. Having swiped one earlier, Alia knew the flower-shaped cakes tasted of cardamom, saffron, and rose water. Sheridan was brooding over the cup of golden wine Tregarde had shared with them. Honey wine infused with peaches and apricots, and Alia made a mental note to have an amphora of it shipped back to Palamara. In his own cushions Tregarde reclined, one ankle crossed over his knee and his fingers tented. ¡°I can¡¯t help but think last night wasn¡¯t a coincidence,¡± the sorcerer said. ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± Alia said, relieved to share what she knew at last. She told them of all she had seen of Rihat. ¡°An eel. Doing battle. An eel? Doing battle?¡±Tregarde marveled. ¡°Up until now I assumed ¡®The Eye¡¯ was a byname, and I would have liked to assume ¡®The Eel¡¯ was a sea captain or a man who likes to eat eels,¡± Alia said. ¡°But that hope is dead. Now I think the ¡®Eel¡¯ is another abyssal. Perhaps a king, to go with the queen that¡¯s over here. Sheridan, did you glean anything from Aristarchus¡¯s papers?¡± ¡°Only the place where the sarcophagus will be taken, to Elamis and an ¡®Eye.¡¯ But nothing on this eel.¡± Sheridan replied. ¡°There¡¯s also the matter of the mysterious foe whose possible defeat Rihat was rejoicing over. An enemy of Rihat¡¯s must be an ally to us, I would wager,¡± Alia said. ¡°An ally in the West ¡­ that would be Rasena Valentis. Or so I would wager,¡± Tregarde said. Something about his tone caught Alia¡¯s attention. ¡°What do you know?¡± Inwardly dread rose within her, as she considered the implications of a place as far off as Rasena Valentis being involved in the same matters that touched on her grove. Why was Tregarde so certain the shadow queen¡¯s plans encompassed the Western Reaches of the Known World? Several times Tregarde started to answer, and several times he stopped. Finally the sorcerer said, ¡°I don¡¯t only work for temples. I¡¯m also part of an organization of arcana. People who investigate the likes of the Brotherhood, and the Lords of Chaos. Among other enemies of decent folk. Not everything I can say just yet, because I¡¯m not fully caught up myself. That this abyssal you speak of is rejoicing over defeating someone makes me think we may have lost an important battle without even knowing it was fought.¡± Alia shivered, and grew colder still as she prepared to voice the fear Rihat had awakened in her. After all, did he not speak of a great battle? ¡°There is nothing we can do about it over there. Right here is where we must consider another matter. The burning sky can not be a simple coincidence. Think of how much power is tied to celestial events. The wandering stars, the zodiac, the moon and the sun ¡ª certain spells can only be done in conjunction with certain movements or appearances of these heavenly bodies. Am I to believe no acts of power happened last night?¡± Sheridan eyed her. ¡°What do you think happened last night?¡± Swallowing hard, Alia hesitated. Finally she replied, ¡°A shadow gate may have been opened. And I think my aunts may have been delivered to the shadow queen through that gate. Or perhaps, the queen came here. With an army of arsh¡¯at?m, perhaps.¡± ¡°Damn, huntress, that¡¯s mighty fine nightmare material you¡¯ve got there,¡± Tregarde groused, raising his cup to her in mock salute. ¡°Do you think I¡¯m wrong?¡± How sweet it would be, to be wrong! But deep in her heart she could not make herself have such hope. ¡°And if you¡¯re right?¡± Sheridan asked. Again she shivered, and this time she wrapped her mother-blessed coat around her shoulders. Long ago her mother told her the blessing she¡¯d woven into it would hold the cold at bay. But what Alia felt now was a coldness in her spirit, not her body, and her mother¡¯s enchantments could not protect her from it. ¡°If I¡¯m right, we will need to plan how to enter the shadow gate ourselves, and free my aunts.¡± Tregarde shot to his feet. His wine cup hit Alia¡¯s sheepskin rug with a soft thwap. Inwardly, Alia smiled. The sorcerer was not as unflappable as he made himself out to be, after all. Good. And to her mind, his response was appropriate. ¡°No. You can¡¯t be serious,¡± Tregarde sputtered. ¡°No. We are not doing this. That can¡¯t be necessary. Why wouldn¡¯t the Erebossi kill us? Tell me there¡¯s another option.¡± ¡°There¡¯s another option,¡± Alia deadpanned, studying the pinwheel pattern stamped into the koolecheh she held. ¡°We could always just not go. That could mean abandoning our mission, though. Is that an option?¡± The rich buttery cookie was worth savoring, so she only nibbled at it as she waited for an answer. Sheridan looked straight at Tregarde. Tregarde looked from one to the other. He exhaled in frustration. Alia was not without pity. ¡°Look, you mentioned a ghost-hunting mission you conducted once. Yes? Consider what we know¡ªor at least, what I know about shadow gates: they separate us from the Erebossi. Creatures with bodies, and creatures without. Timeless beings, and those subject to time. But ghosts can be here whether a keeper wills it or not. Do you know why?¡± ¡°This isn¡¯t an area I¡¯m well-schooled in, priestess.¡± Tregarde picked up his cup from where he dropped it on the rug, and whipped out a small square of linen from his robes. He began daubing at the wine he¡¯d spilled. ¡°Understood. I¡¯m fast coming to appreciate the advantages of being trained by dryads. So. When a lamia or some such creature crosses to our world, they are trespassing. An abyssal may need to possess a person, unless it¡¯s powerful enough to materialize into a physical form. Or what looks like a physical form: while you can strike down their bodies, they will yet live because they truly exist in Erebossa. If their ¡°body¡± is dead, they simply return home ¡± Sheridan made the mental leap. ¡°It would work the same way with us, wouldn¡¯t it? If we sent our spirits through the shadow gates? Erebossi can¡¯t kill us in their realm because our bodies still live in this realm. Is that what will protect us if we cross over now?¡± ¡°Perhaps. And I emphasize: perhaps. I vary between the hypothesis that you can only kill whatever is native to your world on the one hand, and that having your body elsewhere is the key to survival on the other hand. I never wanted to test this,¡± Alia admitted. ¡°I would be content to allow this to be an unsolved mystery, but my fellow huntsmen, I don¡¯t think we have that luxury.¡± ¡°How do ghosts get to be an exception? Can we use that exception, too?¡± Sheridan wondered. ¡°Doubtful. Ghosts can exist here because in life they were native to this land, and natural ghosts never quite leave it.¡± Seeing Sheridan¡¯s expression she added, ¡°An unnatural ghost is the spirit of a dead person forced to return to this world, by another agent. Usually a sorcerer is at the bottom of this.¡± Seeing the look on Tregarde¡¯s face, she amended, ¡°or these days, a shadow priest more like.¡± In silence the men digested her words. Even their sweets were forgotten, so lost in thought they seemed to be. ¡°Well then,¡± Tregarde said at last. ¡°In this matter we¡¯re going to the right place to find answers, then: Elamis. Though I don¡¯t think I¡¯d trust those you¡¯d put your queries, too, miss priestess.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Alia asked. All she knew of Elamis was its byname: the ¡®city of the magi.¡¯ For the first time it dawned on her the implications of the name. ¡°I asked about Elamis,¡± Sheridan said. ¡°Everyone I talk to says it¡¯s not a normal city. Sorcerers created it, as if by magic, thousands of years ago. Only sorcerers are allowed to live there. Anyone else can visit, but not stay.¡± ¡°A city of secrets, they say,¡± Tregarde added. ¡°A city of legends. Remote, in the mountains, not easy to get to, and not welcoming when you get there: this is a research town. But not a town like the Ellura artificers have. The kind of magic the mages work in Elamis is more ¡­ clandestine, let¡¯s say. Your mama and aunties in the Ebon Grove prevent the kind of magic the Elamisi wantonly practice. Even I would hesitate to be there if it wasn¡¯t for the mission.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the problem if all of you sorcerers are gathered together?¡± Sheridan demanded. ¡°Like-minded people only rubbing up against like-minded people, us-against-them is a recipe for trouble, boy,¡± Tregarde replied as he began to refill his wine cup. He took a long swallow before continuing. ¡°Look, son. When you live in a place with all kinds of people, you have to have certain rules in place. Not everybody thinks the same or does things the same way, so you have to make allowances. You might fight with your neighbor, but if a dragon showed up you¡¯d work together to slay it. And it¡¯s that factor that¡¯s a problem with Elamis.¡± ¡°Because instead of a dragon you mean the people of Elamis would be uniting against ordinary people. Anyone without powers will be an enemy to these people.¡± ¡°Now you see it.¡± Instead of raising his cup in salute, Tregarde clinked his cup against Sheridan¡¯s. ¡°They might have all kinds of ideas about regular folks that just ain¡¯t so. And think about how they enforce this rule. What if someone has a child who has no powers at all? Can the child stay? Or are they exposed on a hillside somewhere? Kicked out? What if your non-magic sister dies and you have to take in her non-magic young¡¯uns?¡± The question made Alia glare into her own wine cup. ¡°It¡¯s a city full of people who would have reason to want to abduct a dryad. There are no groves in the desert, yet their shadow queen can only be propitiated with dryads, apparently. Sorcerers are the primary people who would benefit from this whole operation.¡± They didn¡¯t have time to pursue the matter further. Before the night watches changed the men left Alia¡¯s tent, so as not to be seen. At dawn they rode again. When sunset came and the caravan still had not stopped, Alia¡¯s pulse quickened. Night fell, bringing with it soft rains. But by then the caravan master¡¯s horn blew. They had reached Elamis. Chapter 15: A New Hope Chapter XV A New Hope In which despair is held at bay and a new plan takes shape Sweet music penetrated the depths of Senet¡¯s dreams, wrapping him in peace and gentle memories. The knives piercing his heart retracted, allowing him to dream of Nensela without agony. And then he awakened. And once more his eyes disappointed him, insistently showing him the indigo haze of the stasis field enveloping Nensela. A testament to the Restorites¡¯ failure to heal her. In the campaign tent of Lysander Xenakis, Nensela slept endlessly, with no sign she would ever awaken. When alone with her Senet spoke to her, he sang to her, he prayed over her. But still she slept. Now her mortal companions ministered to her. One attended to her body, the other to her soul¡ªthe tune she played on her kithara was soft, restful. Ah, so this was the bringer of the achingly beautiful dream he had just awakened from. This, and the springtime forest the women had brought with them while he slumbered. Or so his senses declared. Pine boughs hung from the corners of the tent, woven through with tiny red glowlight simulations of berries. Galbanum, spikenard, acacia gum, and cedar perfumed the air¡ªearthy, woody incense, evocative of memories of walking through serene breezy forests with Nensela by his side. On the supply table he spotted the tazza, the frilled, short-stemmed terracotta vessel the Rasena Valentians used to burn their incense. Tendrils of smoke curled up from it, with one strand snaking around the maiden with the fox-colored hair¡ªEdana. Glowing firestones in terracotta dishes placed strategically throughout the goat-skin tent ensured the bitter bite of winter was kept at bay. A welcome innovation from the Salamandra; no wonder he felt toasty. After a fashion the women even produced larksong¡ªthe girl with the persimmon hair sang a Pelasgian folksong he know of old, about a shepherd girl and a wolf. While the singer played her kithara, Edana was anointing Nensela¡¯s head with oil, a familiar mixture of blue lotus and malabathrum, myrrh and olibanum. A special recipe Nensela favored¡ªSenet recognized the turquoise faience bottle Edana held as the one Nensela reserved for that particular blend. Appropriately enough, given its color, the bottle was shaped like a closed lotus flower. Time and use saw it worn smooth to the touch. That it looked almost new was a testament to how well Nensela cherished gifts from her loved ones: her sister had given it to her for her sixteenth birthday. Did the mortal know, or appreciate how ancient the bottle was that she held in her hands? Perhaps¡ªshe handled it with care, wiping off the excess oil before she stoppered it and set it into a basket perched on the supply table behind her. Edana¡¯s lips began to move. Over the strum of the kithara Senet caught words in the Eitanite language. Ah. So this was why she anointed Nensela: to petition the Sower, the god of her people. Not the more mundane purpose he assumed of her, of giving Nensela lucid dreams. Such could happen when breathing the scent of blue lotus ¡­ ¡­ what did Nensela dream in her endless sleep? Why had the Restorites found it so great a challenge to awaken her? Woman, if you die, you will break me. Do not die. Life without her would be an absolute darkness, an abyss he could never hope to climb out of. But the incense, the anointing oil, the music¡ªthey worked a magic of a kind, overcoming any possible resistance. And it dawned on him what Nensela¡¯s friends were trying to do: they reproduced, after a fashion, the air of Nensela¡¯s home. She lived amongst the pines and firs of Vassinassa, a nation on the southern shores of the Viridian Sea. The acacia came from the trees in the forests of Ta-Seti, homeland to Nensela and Senet. Undoubtedly the young women meant to stoke thoughts of home in Nensela, perhaps as a means of calling her back from the depths of her sleep. Edana finished her prayer. For a few moments she stood still, looking down at Nensela¡¯s face. Senet did the same, focusing on Nensela¡¯s eyelids. But they did not flicker or flutter, as they might if she were about to awaken. So. Even the Sower did not hurry to rouse her. Senet sighed softly, but the knives jabbing at his heart had dulled somewhat, as the blue lotus scent was having its way. Did not Nensela call this blend of oils the Bringer of Tranquility? Whatever Edana felt she kept to herself. She turned now to the supply table behind her. The supplies in question were an array of phials of elixirs and pots of unguents, and a small bronze water basin. Someone came by twice a day to change the water. Beside the bowl sat a smaller pot of fine white sand. Edana took a fistful of sand and rubbed her palms vigorously with it. She clapped her hands, brushing off the crumbs and clumps of now oily sand. Only then did she dip her hands in the water. From the corner of her eye she stared at Senet. Assessing him. Weighing him. This roused him in a way nothing else had. What was she measuring him against? ¡°Your Grace.¡± She sounded hesitant. She picked up one of the towels beside the basin and dried her hands. ¡°Bessa and I asked the others to come, and they will be here any moment. There are matters we must discuss. And Lady Nensela¡ªyou are the only one who can give us insight now. Her prophecy¡ªyour prophecy is¡ª¡± She stopped, looking past him. That was when he heard the footsteps, armored feet striking gravel, and the crunch of boots. Cold air blasted him, and shadows lifted as someone opened the flaps of the tent vestibule. ¡°Lord Senet.¡± Tarkhana. The one she had crowned. Of all the people in this gods-forsaken-camp, the emperor of Rasena Valentis was the only who had the slightest inkling of the sheer loss if Nensela should perish. Senet turned around on his bench to acknowledge his guest. To his surprise, two soldiers stepped inside, carrying a tall bucket of carved ivory. Wolves dominated the bands of friezes carved into the ivory. A tell-tale sign the bucket was one of those awarded to honored students of the Lyceum, the venerable school of war and philosophy in Pelasgos. ¡°Right there is fine,¡± said he, pointing to a corner a few feet from the door flap. Xenakis. The boy. Now, now, not a boy¡ªa man with a military title. The gryphon emblazoned in gold on his black bronze breastplate signaled his rank as a red gryphon. But all Senet knew of him was that he was commanding the battle where Nensela¡ªno, don¡¯t give in!¡ªwhere Nensela almost died. Xenakis stood in the doorway beside his emperor. His men set down the wine bucket, then exited. Two newcomers came in on their heels: the master arcanus, Ziri, and the drakaina. Demigoddess. Daughter of a god known only to have sons. What had Nensela made of her? ¡°Forgive the intrusion,¡± Tarkhana began. Like Xenakis, he wore armor. But his was more ornate, with his dragon sigil embossed on his breastplate. Draco Prime. Narrow face, high sharp cheekbones and glinting eyes gave Tarkhana a leonine countenance. Coupled with his white hair, he gave the impression of a battle-seasoned lion. Age did not diminish his natural vitality, or at least he was careful to avoid the appearance of frailty. But a politician who safeguarded his image was no novelty. Such he could not say for the drakaina¡ªthe dragon woman. Tall, stately, she surveyed the tent with keen eyes. Alone of his guests, she unnerved him. Outwardly he appeared calm, but he suspected she would not be fooled. No more so than Nensela would be. Tarkhana invited her to sit beside him on a bench opposite Senet. At some point while he slept someone had added three plain wooden benches with blue cushions. Less fancy than the bench he occupied, which bore red upholstery and legs shaped like lion claws. The benches formed a square with him at its head. When the demigoddess sat, she turned eyes of molten gold upon Senet. Xenakis carried a small crate fitted with brass. He reached inside and pulled out a small shallow bowl with a knoblike protuberance in the center. The underside of the knob would be hollow, Senet knew, to allow a one-handed grip when pouring out from the bowl. ¡°Your Grace, I¡¯ve brought wine to make libations for my dead. Miraculously, I only lost one man on the Night of the Burning Sky, but his spirit may linger here. If he resents why he died, he may trouble Lady Nensela.¡± Senet¡¯s nerves jangled, as though he had been shocked out of sleep by a crash of thunder. ¡°What did Nensela have to do with his death?¡± ¡°The fiend, Archelaos, abandoned the body he had been using to pose as governor here. He usurped the body of one of my scryers, and used him to try and force Lady Nensela to surrender to him. And you know her response. What she did surprised Archelaos, and my pegasus prime took advantage of his surprise to throw him through the fire and down the mountainside.¡± Right, Senet had heard this story, but not the part about Archelaos¡¯s victim. Could a lemure¡ªa vengeful spirit¡ªbe the cause of Nensela¡¯s prolonged sleep? Was it preventing the Restorites from healing her? All at once he stood, stiff muscles be damned. ¡°Let us do this.¡± Xenakis went over to the bucket, and Bessa joined him there. Xenakis took a silver ladle and a matching silver strainer dangling from bucket the handle. Bessa took the crate of libation bowls from him and held it steady while Xenakis ladled the wine through the strainer into each bowl. Was it Senet¡¯s imagination, or did their eyes meet, linger on each other¡¯s? Blushing, the maiden fluttered her eyelashes, meanwhile the officer accidentally struck the wine bucket with his ladle instead of dipping it as he¡¯d meant to. Oh, Nensela. Budding romances brought out her girlish side, a remnant of her youthful innocence she would not allow to fully die. If she were awake she would smile at the maiden and soldier, and snuggle against Senet. But alas¡­ Presently Xenakis and Bessa came to the circle. Bessa went first to the emperor and the demigoddess, offering them each a bowl, before turning to Ziri. ¡°Your grace,¡± she said when she came to Senet. He took a ceramic dish from the crate and sniffed at the wine. Spikenard, long pepper, honey, saffron, and dates¡ªah, spiced wine, and heated, too. This was the right time of year for it, with the winter solstice approaching. Bessa set the crate down, then took out a bowl and brought it over to Edana, who had remained beside Nensela. Of course Edana would not join them for this; no Eitanite would. Libations to the dead invoked Sorcha the Ever Bright, who guided souls to the Place of Judgment. But Eitanim did not make offerings to any god save their own. Nor did they consume any food or drink offered to any foreign gods. Apparently Xenakis knew this because he said, ¡°Join us, optima. You witnessed what happened, and I did not dedicate this wine to any god. Nor shall I.¡± Edana accepted the bowl, and joined Bessa in their circle. The women chose the bench to Senet¡¯s left. Putting Bessa across from Xenakis, who shared Ziri¡¯s bench. Tarkhana rose from his seat. ¡°The Night of the Burning Sky saw many victories ¡­ and many losses. Of the dead we mourn and honor, we gather here today for Marcus Niraemius Quarto. Red Gryphon Lysander Xenakis, what would you say of him?¡± Xenakis raised his bowl with his right hand. His bowl was silver, and embossed in bronze with a pattern of running wolves. A matching part of a set that included the ivory wine decanter and silver ladle and strainer. Solemnly he spoke of Quarto, extolling him for his studious precision in duties. A memory must have tugged at him, because his lips quirked into a smile. ¡°But Quarto also knew how to laugh,¡± he said, and told them of Quarto¡¯s love for bawdy drinking songs. ¡°If he were here, he would be the first to fetch the firestones that warm this tent. And he would want Her Grace to know he would never have harmed her, because he never harmed anyone. Not man, not woman, not child. Not he, who nursed wounded birds back to health, and would give his last two coins to feed starving children we passed on our marches. The echomancers testify of how valiantly Quarto fought against Archelaos. That he was unable to overcome a king of Erebossa is not to his shame. It is to his credit that he fought at all, and fought well. Rest in peace, Quarto. May you sing forevermore in the Everlasting Lands.¡± Something stirred in Senet, a sense of obligation that destroyed the last vestiges of grief-induced torpor clinging to him. ¡°If I may, I will speak on behalf of Nensela. The death of Marcus Niraemius Quarto would grieve her, because the death of any mortal grieves her. But especially one so young, and of such a quality as Quarto. That he died not as a consequence of his own demerits, but by the act of a fiend who sought to use him against her¡ªNensela would insist on avenging him. In her name, I vow to make sure Quarto did not die in vain.¡± Edana raised her own libation bowl. ¡°This vow I join you in, Lord Senet. I did not know Quarto, but I saw the injuries he bore. He did what he could, and for this I honor him. May his name live on. To Quarto!¡± The drakaina cocked her head, bemused as the humans echoed Edana. However she copied their movements exactly, pouring out a measure of wine onto the grass beneath her feet. Then they all drank. The spiced wine, warm and fragrant, heated Senet from the inside out. He savored it, surprised by the sweet flavor of plums that were apparently poached in the wine. You are the only one who can give us insight now. The vow he said in Nensela¡¯s name spurred him on. The time for despair was at an end. ¡°Let us speak now of stratagems,¡± he said. Everyone sat. Ziri began the conference. ¡°Before we set out for Valentis, we intended to go to Elamis. This past battle was supposed to give us leave to go there, without worrying about the Abyssals Five at our backs. The dawn eclipse of Lady Nensela¡¯s vision is due to occur this coming summer solstice, six months from now. We can¡¯t delay.¡± ¡°The Fire Lords,¡± Edana said, as though she had forgotten them until now. ¡°Lady Aelia said we¡¯d need them, too. But what about Lady Nensela? We can¡¯t leave her here.¡± ¡°The Drakon Guard surround this tent. If she is not safe in their care then there is nowhere in this world she could be safe,¡± Ziri replied. Tarkhana smiled in spite of himself. ¡°The Nensela I know would be ¡­ irritated if we wasted her sacrifice.¡± He stared straight at Senet, as if seeking confirmation. And there it was. When he forced out the words, Senet¡¯s voice sounded rough to his own ears. ¡°Nensela Saw a premonition. I now have to accept she Saw her¡ªher confrontation with the eidolon. She asked me to stay true. To keep the faith. In her. In our Seeker.¡± To his surprise, Xenakis smiled in triumph. ¡°So it was a plan. Then why should we despair? Let¡¯s seize our chance: Murena has retreated, and Archelaos is denied possessing Lady Nensela. I have to believe all is as she planned it to be. Lord Senet?¡± Ah. Youth. Was he ever so earnest? But the youth had a point, and by the gods let him be right! ¡°I do have faith in her. Your supposition is in keeping with her nature.¡± Edana nodded, her expression plainly declaring, Of course you had faith in her. And again he was struck by the earnestness of youth. However aloud she said, ¡°Last summer, Lady Nensela asked a question. Do you have an answer, Ziri, concerning the matter of the giants¡¯ strategy? If they do mean to battle with the, er, Nasiru?¡ªthen how would their current actions contribute to that goal?¡± Ziri pulled out a small, battered leather codex from his satchel and flipped open to a dog-eared page. ¡°Recall I suspected Gagnon was maneuvering to shift blame for his actions onto Tarkh¡ªthe emperor?¡± A quick glance at the emperor, who remained impassive. Only Bessa and Edana nodded. Curiosity piqued, Senet dryly replied, ¡°No.¡± Ziri obligingly laid it out: how Duke Antony Gagnon employed the mercenary group, the Red Daggers, to silence anyone who asked about the giants. ¡°This is the same group who attacked our conclave the spring before last?¡± Senet asked, referring to the conference in the Library of Kyanopolis Nensela had hosted for him and three other prophets. ¡°Indeed. And this past spring, the giants attacked Bessa¡¯s estate. Edana found a letter in Gagnon¡¯s possessions in which he was setting up the emperor to blame for the deaths of Bessa and her family. Nicely thwarted, ladies. Ahem. And after our raid on the Red Daggers¡¯ headquarters, we learned Gagnon meant to destroy the Aqua Sobeyrana. That¡¯s one of the principal aqueducts serving Valentis.¡± Senet thought of the Sending he shared with Nensela, where she included Bessa on her strategy board. Now the Siluran¡¯s relevance became clearer. ¡°As we noted before, all of those actions have a political outcome: discrediting you, Your Excellency. But the giants never once mention having a political ambition when they trouble themselves to talk to us.¡± Ziri turned to face the emperor. ¡°Your Excellency: if Gagnon had succeeded in overthrowing you, what authority do you have to aid the giants in their goal? See, the giants and the abyssals likely worked with Gagnon because he was most well-placed to usurp your power. Which means you have the power to serve their ends.¡± All eyes turned to Tarkhana, who yet maintained his silence. A deliberative man who chooses his words with care. So Nensela had said of Tarkhana, when she told Senet of the intrigues she had engaged in while they were apart. ¡°Of the many rumors surrounding me, I allowed one to stand uncorrected: that which concerns His Holiness, Lysimachus, the Son of the Sea Lord. In some tellings, I hold a leash on him.¡± Halie made a low, threatening sound in her throat. Hair stood up on Senet¡¯s neck and all along his arms. A dragon¡¯s growl. ¡°You humans were evil to even think of compelling my brothers to serve you!¡± Xenakis did a double take. Reacting to her growl, her show of emotion, or her judgment? ¡°We were well-punished for it, weren¡¯t we?¡± Bessa interjected. ¡°The Scouring came because of that, didn¡¯t it?¡± The drakaina subsided, relaxing out of the ramrod posture in which she¡¯d been sitting.¡°Verily,¡± she acknowledged through clenched teeth. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Tarkhana turned sideways, positioning himself to look Halie in the eye. Alone amongst them, he had been unmoved by the drakaina¡¯s anger. Gravely he replied, ¡°Your Holiness, I have never attempted to compel your brother. I know him as a dear friend. It honors me that he chooses to spend a portion of his immortality in my company. The gods know I have tried his patience a time or two¡ªas all friends do with one another.¡± Now Halie exhaled as she folded her hands in her lap. ¡°It speaks well of you that he calls you ¡®friend.¡¯ Please continue.¡± ¡°Ahem. I let this particular rumor stand uncorrected for no idle reason: it is a trap. The kind of sorcerer who may wish to re-enact the Age of Iniquity that preceded the Scouring, would be tempted by the thought of putting Lysimachus under their subjection. If the owner of a business sells that business, he may transfer the slaves who ran it to a new owner. They¡¯re part of the assets for the business, after all. Lysimachus and I decided to let certain people believe he was an imperial ¡­ asset. Thus to be emperor is to possess the power to command Lysimachus.¡± A long-game. Something Nensela would approve of. ¡°How well did this trap work?¡± Senet asked. Tarkhana held up his right hand, rings facing towards Senet. He lowered all fingers except his index, which remained pointing up. Drawing attention to his amethyst seal ring. ¡°This gem is carved with an image of a sea dragon. On three separate occasions in my reign, certain sorcerers schemed to get this ring. One succeeded, and came before Lysimachus, believing the ring conferred the power to compel him. The moment ¡­ did not end the way the thief expected it to.¡± The others let out shaky laughter, with wary glances at Halie. But even she smiled, revealing her sharp canines. Ziri flipped through his codex, flicking pages rapidly until he came to the one he sought. ¡°One mystery answered: Gagnon sent two arcani to infiltrate your palace, and he called their mission ¡®Operation Amethyst.¡¯ He charged them with bringing your dragon-seal ring to him as proof of their success. One of the letters Gagnon sent to Gallo¡ªthe leader of the Kyanopolis Red Daggers¡ªtalks about the importance of making sure Gagnon had the ring by this past midsummer. Based on what he wrote, Gagnon would have fallen into your trap. In his schemes everyone would find out you lost the ring, which prepares the ground for his claim you lost the mandate of the gods.¡± ¡°It fits. I was attacked late in the spring,¡± Tarkhana agreed. ¡°If you would, say nothing of this trap. After all, the final fate of the would-be seal-ring thieves has ever been ¡®shrouded in mystery,¡¯ as lorekeepers would say.¡± Ziri shut his codex with an audible thump. ¡°Indeed. And to answer your question, Edana: if we interpreted the giants¡¯ objective correctly, then Lysimachus is the key to their goal. Once Gagnon took the ring for himself, his usefulness would likely have been at an end. One of the Abyssals Five would have seized it from him, and used it to get close to Lysimachus. Killing the Children of the Gods is a challenge, to goad them to return to Thuraia. The undersea incursions on the sea dragons resulted in wounding their Eldest, and that was enough to get Her Holiness here.¡± He gestured to the demigoddess. Now Bessa added, ¡°The Red Dagger, Claudius, said Murena promised an end to the prophets. And Archelaos likely intended to possess Lady Nensela. They took Her Holiness, Halie, and they are poisoning naiad springs¡ªZiri, have any naiads been reported missing?¡± The tent fell silent, but for the crackle of fire in the incense burner. ¡°I have received no such report. But I will have my people on the alert for the possibility,¡± Ziri said at last. ¡°Everything points to an infernal interdiction against the gods: attacks on their Children, and the sorcerers are cut off from spiritual aid.¡± ¡°There is something I don¡¯t think any of you know,¡± Senet began. Every eye was fixed on him. ¡°Over the summer I met with Nensela. Through a Sending,¡± he said hastily, seeing Ziri¡¯s start of surprise. ¡°She told me something I did not know was possible. But she believed it with all her heart, as the Seeker warned her it would happen: She had a vision. Given to her by someone who is not the Seeker.¡± They all erupted at once. Except the emperor, who remained calm and looked straight at Senet. His commanding silence stopped the others. When they quieted, he spoke. ¡°Please explain, Your Grace. I think we all believed prophecies come from the Seeker alone.¡± ¡°Before the Seeker fell silent, She said this to Nensela: a day would come when Nensela would learn more about the nature of our enemy. On that day, she would hear a voice. A voice that would tell her more about our enemies. By the Seeker¡¯s command, Nensela was to obey the voice. As to how she was certain the voice she heard was the voice: Edana¡¯s abduction. The voice told Nensela a man named Gallo would meet his end if he abducted Edana. This came to pass, and that is the test of a prophecy. And a prophet. And I suppose now, the source of the vision given to a prophet. Do you understand?¡± ¡°But Who spoke to her? If only the Seeker gives visions¡ª¡± Bessa began. ¡°She isn¡¯t,¡± Edana cut in. Bessa gaped at her. ¡°You mean the Sower gives visions, too?¡± ¡°Never directly to us Ta-Setians,¡± Senet said, holding up a hand to quell any arguments. ¡°Sela did not tell me who sent her the vision. There is no fruit in pursuing that path right now. What I know is that the Seeker commanded Sela to listen for, and listen to that voice. She obeyed. What more the Voice said to her I do not know, for she was not at liberty to say.¡± ¡°But there¡¯s another player on the board, isn¡¯t there?¡± Tarkhana asked, his deep voice rolling over them, soothing and authoritative all at once. ¡°And it¡¯s on our side. Or¡ªrather, I believe we may put our faith in it. Be watchful of signs.¡± Senet cleared his throat. ¡°Now for stratagems: Are the Fire Lords the sum of what Nensela expected to find in Elamis? What did she say about it?¡± Ziri said, ¡°For my part, Elamis is known as the City of the Magi. A city of sorcerer-priests, a valuable fact in itself. Remember the Presence. Everyone in Elamis would have noticed it. There they all are, in one place, unable to speak to the spirits, unable to call upon them for the spells they need.¡± ¡°Ohhh,¡± Bessa murmured, echoing the thoughts on everyone¡¯s faces. ¡°I would not want to assault the Rhabdomachaeum; Khratu knows I wouldn¡¯t want to lay siege to a Rhabdomachaeum city,¡± Xenakis mused. ¡°But someone has pulled their claws and their teeth. Fitting prey for the giants, if nothing else.¡± ¡°It¡¯s also a resource,¡± Edana pointed out. ¡°Did they face the Scouring, too? They would have an incentive to find workarounds for calling on spiritual assistance for their spells..¡± ¡°There is a complication,¡± Ziri said. ¡°The city does not like outsiders. If you are not a sorcerer you are not welcome. And if you are a sorcerer, they force you to register whether you are a venator or a reaper and so on.¡± He looked across at Bess and Edana. ¡°We¡¯re going,¡± Edana said in a clipped tone. ¡°No one excludes traders, and I am a silver broker. Bessa will be my assistant.¡± ¡°Or we could go as emissaries,¡± Bessa suggested. ¡°Lady Nensela insisted the giants aren¡¯t pawns of Anshan; and the Anshani might be threatened, too. Why not warn them?¡± Tarkhana, Xenakis, and Ziri rejected the idea immediately, exclaiming as one. ¡°Relations with Anshan are not strong enough,¡± Tarkhana explained, the other two men yielding the floor to him. ¡°You will be an object of suspicion, and you two will be assumed to be arcanae. The laws of the shahanshah of Anshan will not let you pass unnoticed, unwatched, and unhindered in that city.¡± ¡°And a purveyor of fine silver goods in search of sorcerers for hire? Ones who will enchant my wares? Will they honor such a claim, if I make it?¡± Edana asked Ziri thought so. ¡°And it will leave you relatively free to move about the city. Although, you may be assigned a minder to make sure you don¡¯t cause any trouble. As the emperor said, Anshan and Rasena Valentis are not on the best of terms. And this situation with the border¡ª¡± ¡°Is resolved now,¡± Xenakis interjected. ¡°My pegasus prime and the scryers assure me we¡¯ve picked up everything valuable from the giants; there¡¯s nothing for looters. And my engineers managed to get the roads into a usable condition again.¡± ¡°That you have,¡± the emperor agreed. ¡°And I thank you for the haste you made in doing so. The shahanshah¡¯s arcana have no doubt found out about the battle here, but at least when I answer his envoys I will be able to say trade is restored. For the most part.¡± For the most part. Because after all, the giants had obliterated the fortress, a sure sign of a formidable power at work. The Anshani must necessarily worry about such a power being active so near their borders. On his way to Abris, thoughts of Nensela consumed Senet so much he paid little attention to reports of battles fought on the Night of the Burning Sky. But it was time now to keep his promise to her, and stay true to himself. ¡°Your men have collected the giants¡¯ armor?¡± he prompted. Xenakis took the floor. His scryers and echomancers examined the armor and weapons, and Pegasus Prime Arrianus, his third in command, had assayed them as best he could. Furthermore, Xenakis had managed to contact the Rhabdomachaeum both before and after the battle. Before the battle, the Rhabdo¡¯s lorekeepers and master sorcerers hadn¡¯t wasted the opportunity Bessa and Edana had given them, to study the giants¡¯ thunder maces and armor. ¡°You saved many lives in giving them the giants¡¯ weapons,¡± Xenakis said, nodding at the women. The teachers at the school of sorcery had learned disturbing revelations about the giants: the giants themselves could not be scried. More, the echomancers could never, ever see further into the giants¡¯ past than the attacks they¡¯d made on Rasena Valentians. And the giants¡¯ armor and weapons were made of an alloy unknown to anyone in Rasena Valentis. The Rhabdomachaeum¡¯s lorekeepers had independently formed the same hypothesis Nensela had: the giants were arriving through a gate. They believed Lady Aelia had only sensed them at Red Pointe because they were already nearby. A hypothesis brutally tested the Night of the Burning Sky. ¡°No scryer Saw the giants before they appeared on the grounds. More¡ª¡± Xenakis cut himself off, glancing at the emperor. Tarkhana nodded, and Xenakis continued. ¡°The headmaster revealed the school was betrayed from within.¡± Bessa gasped, and turned pale. Edana clasped her hand, and the others looked at them in surprise. ¡°Bessa¡¯s cousin is a student there,¡± Edana said. ¡°As is her freedwoman. We didn¡¯t know the Rhabdo had been attacked, too.¡± Is, Senet noted. Is. A defiant, hopeful word. Nensela is alive. She is my heart. She is eternally at my side. Bessa looked away, blinking rapidly, and Edana put an arm around her. The red gryphon¡¯s face softened. ¡°I am sorry. I will ask my scryer to make inquiries,¡± he said. Tarkhana handed Bessa his handkerchief. After a moment she composed herself, and with a tight voice she asked, ¡°What happened?¡± Just as Justin Kellis had done in the Library of Karnassus, an enemy arcanus had systematically hidden lore in the academy¡¯s archives. However, instead of concealing information about Erebossi, the arcanus was intent on hiding scrolls about the Primordial Age. ¡°This is what you call the time when my Father and the other Nasiru walked this world?¡± Halie asked. The Primordial Age had preceded the Elder Age, the time when the dryads, naiads, and sea dragons were dominant and humans had yet to begin their ascension to prominence. Everyone now lived in the Cataclysm Age, begun after the First Cataclysm. ¡°Yes,¡± Xenakis confirmed. ¡°And I understand the working theory is that the giants are after the Elders¡ªthe dryads and so forth.¡± Here he paused before adding, ¡°You all speak of ¡®the Five¡¯ Erebossi, of whom Archelaos was one. But after what happened in the Rhabdo, I believe there was a Sixth: a clerk in the archives.¡±
The news rocked them. Ziri closed his eyes, clasped a hand to his forehead, and let out a deep sigh. ¡°Damn my foolish faith in the words of a traitor! I didn¡¯t look for a sixth because Gagnon only recorded five call signs.¡± Tarkhana said to him, ¡°The failure is not yours alone. At the end of the day, my own Magister of Arcana missed him as well. Traitors have been sown like tares in my government and army both.¡± On the Night of the Burning Sky, the Sixth Erebossan shifted to its true form and slew several of the archivists. It forced the survivors to carry out a ritual which opened a gate to Erebossa, unleashing a tide of abyssals. The fiends killed many within the Rhabdo, while the giants attacked without, besieging the school. ¡°The headmaster thinks the school would have been attacked anyway,¡± Xenakis said. ¡°Both because they were closing in on the Sixth Abyssal, and because they made a breakthrough in their study of the giants. The headmaster and several of the teachers managed to test their hypothesis the night of the battle, and now they¡¯re sure the giants may themselves be Elders ... Children of the gods, as they claim.¡± ¡°Which god?¡± Ziri wondered. ¡°Lady Nensela said she¡¯d asked reapers to investigate if the giants might belong to the Reaper, because He¡¯s the only Guardian power without a known Child. Was she right?¡± The headmasters didn¡¯t know. What they did know was that certain artifacts could only be wielded by the known Elders: the Seeker¡¯s Eyes. Senet leapt from his seat, as did Halie. She said, ¡°I need to go to the Rhabdomachaeum,¡± just as Senet said, ¡°You need to go to the Rhabdomachaeum.¡± ¡°They have one, don¡¯t they?¡± Senet demanded, staring straight at Xenakis. ¡°The Rhabdo has one of the Eyes?¡± Xenakis watched him warily, apparently startled by Senet¡¯s show of emotion. ¡°Yes. And one of the teachers sacrificed himself, allowing it to fall into the giant¡¯s hands. That was by design, to see if any of the giants could pick it up and use it.¡± ¡°And did they?¡± Senet pursued. ¡°A giant seized it, without harm.¡± ¡°What is this thing? This Eye?¡± Edana asked, looking from Halie to Senet. Halie¡¯s body was half turned away from them, facing the tent¡¯s entrance, as if contemplating rushing away. However, she finally gave a decisive shake of her head and resumed sitting at the emperor¡¯s side. Though his blood raced, Senet forced himself to sit down as well, and listen as the demigoddess began to explain. ¡°You humans use an oraculum to talk to each other across great distances. But if you wished to speak to the Nasiru, you would pray, or perform rituals to be given a dream or a vision. Or, you might ask your priests to do so on your behalf, wouldn¡¯t you? That is not how it is for us. My mother heard my Father¡¯s voice through a stone you call the Eye of the Seeker. The Children use those stones to seek guidance from their mother or father, when guidance is needed. But they are not restricted to speaking only to their parents; my brothers could easily speak to the Huntress or the Restorer if they needed to.¡± Xenakis added that the academy¡¯s headmaster had gleaned this revelation after consulting with Pegasus Prime Devona Senovara of the Falcon¡¯s Hollow watch, as Edana had advised him to. In turn Edana recounted for the others what Senovara had told them the morning after the attack on the Philomelos estate. ¡°One of the giants spoke to what Senovara thought was a scryer¡¯s globe to find out where Bessa and her family were, because we had escaped her house. It spoke a language Senovara hadn¡¯t heard before, although it spoke Rasenan later. Are you saying what I think you¡¯re saying?¡± Xenakis nodded. ¡°The Rhabdo¡¯s lorekeepers say the globe was truly an Eye. Senovara sensed it was dangerous, so she sent it to the Rhabdo for study. The giants had set the Eye into a staff, and only the shaft was safe to touch. Before ¡®giving¡¯ the Eye to the giants, the scholar released the Eye from the staff. I gather no mortal can touch the Eyes, only the Elders¡ªthe Children¡ªcan do so.¡± ¡°They are sacred,¡± Halie said primly. ¡°Mortals are forbidden to touch them¡ªalthough I suppose Ta-Setians might, if they are the Seeker¡¯s Own. But I do not see the wisdom in testing this.¡± Senet shrugged. ¡°Better you than me.¡± ¡°I will claim their Eye for myself, and see if I can¡¯t learn more. Unless the giants escaped with it?¡± Halie asked. ¡°No, you can take it,¡± Xenakis assured her. ¡°Once the giant confirmed their hypothesis, the head magister and his team killed it. They¡¯re keeping the Eye safe in the meantime.¡± ¡°We would be grateful for all you could learn from the Eye,¡± Tarkhana said. Ziri began a tally: Edana and Bess would seek out the Fire Lords of Elamis, and Halie would retrieve the Eye, and as for the others¡ª Edana¡¯s teal eyes brightened, as if in remembrance of something she¡¯d forgotten. ¡°Lord Senet, after¡ªafter she¡ªbefore she lost consciousness, Lady Nensela told us to find someone named Sel¨¤na. She said Sel¨¤na would save us all.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± Senet said, tenting his fingers. ¡°Sel¨¤na. By your reckoning she is a prayer long in the answering.¡± They were intrigued, but for Senet the thought of Sel¨¤na was a welcome distraction. ¡°She is Nensela¡¯s only daughter,¡± he said, surprising them. ¡°Lost, during a voyage to the Gold Sea. Nensela steadfastly believed in her survival, and she prayed all these years for the Seeker to give her a definitive answer. An answer which came when we dreamed of the giants. The woman standing alone against the giants? Sel¨¤na. You can imagine how Nensela reacted.¡± ¡°Her daughter?¡± Edana looked past Senet, at Lady Nensela, who lay as still as ever. Only the slight shudder betrayed the depth of her feelings as she said, ¡°By the Speaker, she is made of iron.¡± Respect suffused her tone, and for the first time in days Senet smiled. ¡°To risk giving up her heart¡¯s desire? Yes. Now you know something of her. But if Sel¨¤na is who she wants us to find, then the question is whether going to Elamis or finding Sel¨¤na is one goal and the same. Finding her shall be my task; Nensela would have told her of me.¡± Ziri brought his hands behind his neck, and began to knead the muscles where his neck joined his shoulders. The new white flecks in his auburn hair spoke of the strain the mortal must be under. Aloud the master arcanus asked, ¡°But how could Sel¨¤na do what you¡¯re saying? Reuniting with her daughter is one matter, but the stakes being what they are, I have to wonder if finding her isn¡¯t a secondary purpose. Is Sel¨¤na a sorceress? And if she is, how is she evading the Presence? Or is she a priestess? Whence comes her giant-slaying abilities?¡± ¡°Those questions haunt Nensela as well. Her mortal husband was not a sorcerer, and sorcery is rare in Nensela¡¯s family. Giant-slaying is not a fate she foresaw for the child.¡± Again they were surprised. Abruptly, Senet rose from his bench and went over to Nensela. The rise and fall of her chest told him she yet drew breath. Keeping his back to the others he replied, ¡°Unlike you, we have no hope of reunion with loved ones who die. Better to not make the acquaintance of mortals. For a long time we thought this, but the Seeker gave us a revelation. Not all of it shall I reveal to you, only shall I say your kind and ours depend upon each other.¡± ¡°How so?¡± This from Bessa. Lovingly, Senet traced the curves of Nensela¡¯s face. Might his touch awaken her? ¡°Understand, all seers, mortal and immortal alike can see generation upon generation into the future. An immortal seer can manipulate events to ensure the future he or she prefers. But¡ªan idea can live past its prime. It can exert a stranglehold on a people, keeping them from adapting, from surviving to one generation and the next. ¡°In our youth Nensela observed the consequences when too many like-minded people are in the grip of withered habits. Habits they needed to change if the group was to prosper or grow or even just survive. To avoid this, she used her influence to convince our people to limit the reign of our kings. Seventy and five years may a king sit on the throne, and no more. A mortal lifespan.¡± ¡°Because of this rule your kings were able to keep your seers from manipulating the future?¡± Bessa asked. Senet rested one fingertip in the hollow at the base of Nensela¡¯s throat. Faint, steady, her heartbeat answered him. After a while he said, ¡°The folly I speak of is not limited to kings and seers, all of Ta-Seti needed to be warded against it. Hence what I shall call our ¡®Joining Cycles.¡¯ Every three generations or so¡ªevery three mortal generations, my people go forth beyond Ta-Seti and join mortal society. We make friends. We take up trades, yes even those of us born to court, like Nensela and I. We make a point of learning what new ideas you have. Still yet we prefer to keep aloof for you. Grief¡­grief over losing those we love can destroy us. The agony of loss is one we only risk when we foresee some benefit in the flow of time.¡± ¡°And Lady Nensela¡¯s daughter?¡± Edana asked. With effort, Senet forced himself to turn back to the group. To his surprise, he found only compassion in their faces, not impatience. Still, he chose his words with care. ¡°No doubt you know that for all our desire to remain aloof, we brave marriage with mortals on occasion. The children of these unions are the salvation of my society and yours. For our sorcerers and seers the half-mortals give us a stake in our dealings with you, for we must take into account repercussions that would affect future generations. ¡°You benefit as well. Our mortal children live about eight hundred years, and as your children they share your interests and safeguard them. They allow that which should not be forgotten to be remembered. All according to Nensela¡¯s plan, to prevent or mitigate another of what you mortals call the Dark Ages.¡± The others glanced at the emperor, as if seeing him in a new light. Rumor amongst Rasena Valentians attributed Tarkhana¡¯s unusual longevity and visionary nature to Ta-Setian blood in his veins. However, Bessa turned to Senet and cocked her head. With canny intuition she asked, ¡°Do you and Lady Nensela have a child?¡± His son¡¯s face floated before him in his mind. He has her smile. Yet again the knives cut small lacerations in his heart. Any deeper and his anguish would burst forth. ¡°Well spotted, young maiden. But he is even more daring than his mother and I. He left to do some exploring on his own. Five centuries ago, by your reckoning. Like his mother and I, he walks with the Seeker. Be sure he has made provision for this day, if the Seeker gave him warning. As for Sel¨¤na, the events of the present age make me wonder if her birth was by the design of the Seeker Herself.¡± In their last Sending, Nensela had been frightened. Frightened, and seeking comfort from him. And to secure his cooperation for this phase. For this day. She was counting on me. Counting on him to stay true to his vows. To continue listening to and for the Seeker. But Nensela was holding back. On their strategy board she did not place her manifestation next to his. No, between her daughter and the arsha¡¯t?m did she set her incarnation. A sacrifice a mother would make. And yet¡­ ¡°But surely Sel¨¤na is part of a plan Lord Senet,¡± Bessa persisted. ¡°You said you married mortals if you foresaw some benefit down the line. What did Lady Nensela foresee about Sel¨¤na, before she was born?¡± Tarkhana smiled slightly at Senet. ¡°The red gryphon here reminds me Nensela always has a plan. Was this child an exception? A creation of happenstance?¡± Happenstance? Nensela? She who planned twenty to thirty steps ahead of every move she made? Yet it was not impossible ¡­ at the end of the day, she was also a woman of fierce love and devotion. ¡°An astute observation, red gryphon. All prophets must leave records of our prophecies with the Seeker¡¯s temples. Though I warn you, Nensela¡¯s prophecy for her daughter may not have been due to come to pass until centuries from now.¡± ¡°It may not matter,¡± Edana said gently. ¡°The question now is what you said it was: do we look for Elamis, or look for Sel¨¤na? Those goals might also be sequential. That is, go to Elamis first, and next search for Sel¨¤na.¡± ¡°They were lost near the Isle of Katabasis,¡± Curious to see her reaction, Senet focused all of his attention on Halie. Childlike wonderment came over her face in response. ¡°I should like to see that island, the place where my Father descended into the sea and left this world. To walk where He walked ¡­ if you go there, Lord Senet, I may join you, once I have the Eye.¡± Halie paused, then amended, ¡°I will go if it will serve my Father¡¯s purposes.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t He want you to assist Lady Nensela?¡± Ziri asked. ¡°Father wants me to fight the Aeternity War,¡± she corrected. ¡°Assisting Lady Nensela was congruent with that. But the example she set moves me, and I can do no less than follow it: I will put aside my desires for the sake of winning this war. If the Isle of Katabasis will aid us, I will go there. If not, I shall not. We need more information.¡± ¡°Indeed, I sent my men to secure the estate where Archelaos lived when he was playing governor, in case he left behind threads to follow. And my echomancers are looking into certain of his activities before the battle.¡± Xenakis glanced at Ziri. ¡°Perhaps your people could lend assistance? If Sel¨¤na is part of the final battle, the Erebossi might have planned around her. They might be dogging her footsteps even now.¡± Sweet Seeker, have mercy. While fiends could not be scried, it did not follow they were unaware of specific mortals. If the Six knew of Sel¨¤na, they would surely seek her demise. Or they would try to possess her, just as Archelaos sought to possess Nensela. A thought struck Senet. ¡°What else is in Elamis? A nekromanteion?¡± ¡°If so it¡¯s a well-guarded secret. But why? Do you know something?¡± Ziri asked. Edana¡¯s hand flew to an iridescent purse she had bound to a belt on her hips. ¡°The key,¡± she said, pulling out a small green stone. A strange glyph was incised into a thumb-shaped indentation in the center. ¡°Gagnon had this, and the sorceress Cingetissa said Murena made it to open a door to another realm. But we won¡¯t go until we figure out how to work the key, survive being in Murena¡¯s presence, and how to return from his abode. Oh, the Sower be praised! What better place to find out than a city of mages? Ziri, how fast can we get there?¡± Senet¡¯s heart leapt. Nensela, my love. Stay strong. And know that your will be done. Now he began to understood how to ensure her revival. Hope invigorated him, as the road before him cleared. They had work to do. Chapter 16: The City of the Magi Chapter VI The City of the Magi In which they seek the Fire Lords Edana glanced inside the tent. As she hoped, Lord Senet was alone. He still faced Nensela, but he turned his head sharply at her approach. ¡°Young miss? Are you taking your leave now?¡± With his profile presented to her he divided his attention between her and Lady Nensela. ¡°Your Grace. I am sorry to intrude¡ª¡± He held up a hand. ¡°No, you love her, too. Come. Before you go to do her bidding, say what you will to her.¡± Edana drew even with him. She glanced down at him, studying him. Not for the first time she marveled at him. Like Ziri or Lysander he was lean-muscled and graceful. Like Lady Nensela, he appeared no older than Lysander. The eyes he fastened on her were not as dark as Lady Nensela¡¯s obsidian; they were chestnut brown. When she first met him they had sparked with warmth. Now they were shadowed with pain. And fear. Unfortunately¡ªfrom Edana¡¯s perspective¡ªSenet had cut off his braids, perhaps in mourning. One cozy evening Lady Nensela told Edana stories of her past. Some stories included Senet, and by the way she described him Edana noted Lady Nensela loved his long hair. Nevertheless, Edana acutely understood his actions. But she had petitioned the Sower on Lady Nensela¡¯s behalf. Now she must either keep faith, or continue to be paralyzed in terror. ¡°She loves you,¡± Senet said. ¡°I thought you were good for her. To have Sel¨¢na taken hurt her so much.¡± Sel¨¢na. Questions circled like wolves in Edana¡¯s mind. Was it safe to ask them of Senet? She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. ¡°Are you sure it was Sel¨¢na you saw?¡± Senet arched an eyebrow and gave her the full weight of his gaze. Edana swallowed and pressed on. ¡°Pegasus Prime Senovara in Falcon¡¯s Hollow didn¡¯t believe my reports of the giants. Primarily because she thought illusions made you all think you were seeing giants. Is such a thing possible, Lord Senet?¡± The man gave nothing away as he considered her question. Finally he said, ¡°Is seeing Sel¨¢na a trap, you mean? That Nensela¡¯s daughter is truly dead, but an Erebossan may have manipulated the vision to trick us into believing we saw Sel¨¢na?¡± ¡°Is it possible?¡± Senet exhaled. ¡°I take it this Senovara is a sorceress, not a seer? Then I shall forgive her blasphemy. Were we truth-seers and not prophets she would not have believed this foolishness, as they see only what is true, and do not regard illusions. But for us prophets¡ªour visions come from the Seeker. I believe the Relentless One sent us this vision, and I do not believe an agent of Erebossa intercepted and tampered with it. The possibility is not worth considering. Be reassured on that point, young miss.¡± Relief eased the tension in her body. So, Lady Nensela¡¯s deepest desire had not been used against her. Good. But another possibility remained. ¡°If you say so then I will take your word for it, Your Grace.¡± The prophet¡¯s extraordinary longevity and breadth of experience settled that particular question in her mind. What happened before could happen again, but what never happened in three thousand years was unlikely to ever do so. Senet eyed her. ¡°But there¡¯s something else, isn¡¯t there?¡± Foolish girl, she judged herself. Of course Lord Senet shared Lady Nensela¡¯s unnerving depth of perceptiveness. The woman would not keep company with a dullard, and she studied people. I was your age when I learned that to wield influence I must understand how others think. This Lady Nensela boasted, through the blood pouring from her lips. And she proved an apt student; reading deep into the heart of Edana, among others. Under Senet¡¯s gaze, Edana began to wonder if seers his age didn¡¯t have a kind of telepathy. But she couldn¡¯t back down. There was too much at stake. ¡°In your vision, whose side was Sel¨¢na fighting on?¡± ¡°Ah,¡± came his swift reply. He patted an empty spot on the bench beside him, inviting her at last to sit. She sat. From the corner of her eye she checked his reaction, but his expression was inscrutable. For a while they sat in silence. ¡°Your question vexes me. Is Sel¨¢na was part of our faction or theirs? Did I misinterpret her actions in the vision? If so, five of us have shared in this error. And I don¡¯t think all five of us would be mistaken. Nensela might be clouded by wishful thinking, and I might on her behalf, but Justinia and Remei and Umberto? They know nothing of Sel¨¢na, and are therefore impartial.¡± ¡°What? Why didn¡¯t you tell them? Won¡¯t knowing about her factor into their analysis?¡± ¡°I never told them for the very reason you asked me the question in the first place: to ensure they are led by the facts, not by a desired end. Evidence and analysis shall lead them, not their hearts. With respect to Sel¨¢na I took it upon myself to be the impartial party. No purpose is served by clouding the minds of the others.¡± ¡°They¡¯re your counterbalance,¡± Edana concluded. If the other three seers agreed on a particular interpretation regarding Sel¨¢na, they would serve as leverage Senet might have needed with Lady Nensela. Senet¡¯s lips quirked, but he otherwise made no answer. ¡°Where would Sel¨¢na obtain the power to fight the giants? If she¡¯s not a sorceress, what are the other options?¡± ¡°The Seeker smiles on us indeed, if the answer to that question reveals the answer to all of our other questions. The other prophets wondered if she might be a priestess. Who knows? Now, consider your mission, to Elamis. Before it was yet a proper city I visited there. I sensed it was a crossroads of a kind, where a man might meet the shadow within himself, and either conquer it or be conquered in turn. Be shrewd, young miss. If it comforts you¡ªknow that Nensela has great faith in you.¡± Tears stung Edana¡¯s eyes. She blinked them back, fixing them on Lady Nensela. Was Lysander right, that her current state was part of a plan, her plan? That she had foreseen her encounter with Archelaos, and engineered it to their benefit? Such would be in keeping with the seer¡¯s nature, as Edana knew her. But Lady Nensela¡¯s words echoed in her mind, from that day in Fanuco¡¯s when Edana confronted her about the Red Daggers¡¯ attack on her workshop. Back then, Lady Nensela insisted Edana also could have anticipated the attack, and her advice to Edana to keep her guards handy should have been enough of a warning. Lady Nensela had expected Edana to draw the logical conclusion. She had faith in Edana¡¯s love for her friends, and her instincts to protect them. In return, she expected Edana to have faith in her love for Edana. Bitter experience taught Lady Nensela to fear prophecy traps, where attempting to avoid a prophecy brought it about instead. Sidestepping such traps required her to trust people to be true to themselves. A lesson she had had twice taught Edana. So. Lady Nensela¡¯s faith in her was high praise she would cherish, but Edana saw within that praise a path forward. Do not fear, she told herself. Be vigilant. And do what must be done.
¡°I can¡¯t go with you,¡± Lysander apologized, as soon as they were alone. ¡°I know. You¡¯re needed here.¡± Bessa squeezed his hand. The snow fell around them, thick and heavy, and soon the road would have to be closed again. For now, though, the two of them could walk arm-in-arm unhindered, leaving puffs of white in their wake. Evanescent clouds preceded them with each exhale of their breaths. For the moment they had no particular destination in mind; ostensibly Lysander intended to survey the Chrysanthemum Highway. Dazzling snow crystals covered a multitude of scars, but to their eyes the merchant wagons steadily trudging through the snow seemed strangely out of place on a road where giants waged battle only days before. Having managed to steal time, Lysander commissioned one of his scryers to find out if Bessa¡¯s family survived the Night of the Burning Sky. When the giants destroyed the fortress they destroyed the oraculum, which meant the scryers were working nonstop. Thank Amyntas, most of Bessa¡¯s family survived unscathed. However, the recovery of Grandfather Pendry, and Bessa¡¯s freedwoman Lenora remained in doubt. The bittersweet news left her mind in turmoil. Lysander¡¯s offer to walk with him was a welcome distraction. In truth; however, they walked together because they finally had a moment to catch their breaths. And to give themselves time to say good-bye. ¡°If only I could send an escort with you.¡± Regret and frustration tinged his voice. ¡°But the emperor is firm on this. I have to leave your protection in Ziri¡¯s hands.¡± Again she understood; the emperor had a point: unlike soldiers, arcana could be disavowed. The Star Dragons were famously beholden to no one emperor or king. They went where they willed or where they were paid, but they held no allegiance to any one nation. If she and Edana were caught in Anshan, the Star Dragons made it plausible for the emperor to deny all knowledge of their activities. The shahanshah would have no grounds to accuse Tarkhana of wrongdoing. Bessa hesitated, then reached out and touched his arm. When he looked down to meet her gaze, she noticed for the first time his eyes were as grey as the winter sea. Cozy images of the two of them sitting around a fire and drinking hot spiced wine came to her. Would they have such moments together? Only a week. Only a week since the battle, but time passed in a blur, so caught up was she in trying to revive Lady Nensela. A week of terror contemplating what would happen if the seer never awakened. Thus, no time to feel gratitude for those who did survive. But Lysander lived. He survived the battle; reason enough to rejoice. A spark of hope kindled in her heart. ¡°Lay to rest your worries. I¡¯ve been working with Ziri and the Star Dragons for all this time,¡± Bessa assured him. ¡°None of them know the meaning of ¡®half measures¡¯.¡± Lysander clasped his hand over hers. With a faint smile she walked beside him in silence. Questions swirled in her mind, questions about him and their possible¡ªpossible¡ªfuture. However, she forced herself to concentrate strictly on the present. ¡°If I can, I will send word to you when I¡¯ve reached Elamis,¡± she promised. Lysander¡¯s hand tightened on hers. ¡°I remember what you said, about Gagnon and Archelaos funneling information away to sow ignorance and chaos. Include me in your reports to Ziri.¡± ¡°I will.¡± From his right hand Lysander slid off his signet ring. A band of iron, with an intaglio of a wolf¡¯s head. Iron, from the sword of a fallen foe. Wolf, iron¡ªGrandmother told her Lysander was a graduate of the Lyceum. A fine match for you, Grandmother had promised. ¡°Day or night, reach me with this. For the sake of my sanity and his, my scryer set up a globe, so I can still receive messages even if he¡¯s not around. I had him prepare a second one for you; you¡¯ll find it in your tent.¡± Bessa took off one of her necklaces and threaded it through the ring. It plinked against the emperor¡¯s signet ring. One of a pair of identical rings he had given to her and Edana, to bolster their authority. ¡°This should keep it safe,¡± she judged. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Lysander re-fastened the necklace behind her neck, and she tucked it beneath her dress. His ring, safely hidden, felt warm against her skin. ¡°I wish there was something more I could do to help,¡± he said. Snowflakes landed on her eyelashes. Bessa blinked them away and smiled up at him. ¡°As if forcing Murena to retreat wasn¡¯t enough? Certainly it¡¯s enough for the lorekeepers to write of you, and legends to be told.¡± ¡°Legends. Including that play of yours?¡± he teased. ¡°Which needs a rewrite, thanks to you,¡± she said. ¡°Before I came to Abris, I wrote of a commonplace officer in command of the fortress. I left that copy with someone, in case I died in the battle.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± She glanced away, her cheeks heating. ¡°Indeed. I did you no justice, I¡¯m afraid. The officer was¡­ conventional. Not so unorthodox and imaginative.¡± ¡°Is that so?¡± Did he sound a trifle playful? Or disapproving? If only she knew him better! Her cheeks grew hotter. ¡°Well, it¡¯s true. Even the emperor thinks well of you; I heard him say so to Lord Senet. And I saw those aethers and hydras who joined us for the battle.¡± She shuddered. The inexperienced senior commanders showed more concerned about the glory of fighting the battle than in trying to understand how it must be fought and won. Contrary to Lysander, they had disregarded reports of giants. Which meant they also hadn¡¯t spent months trying to figure out effective strategies or tactics. Instead, they clung to rank and protocol. In Bessa¡¯s nightmares she relived their maneuvering to wrest control from Lysander. And in her nightmares they won the day. And so, therefore, did Murena. Feeling Lysander¡¯s eyes on her, she glanced up. To her dismay he looked so stern. Perhaps she shouldn¡¯t have said anything critical about the officers senior to him, no matter how accurate? Or maybe he thought she was too forward? A small gasp escaped him, then a full-on laugh followed. His eyes danced with good humor, and she laughed, too, more out of relief than anything else. When he subsided, he lightly traced every line and curve of her face. Gently he cupped her chin, and gazed into her eyes. ¡°May the gods watch over you, Bessa.¡±
While Bessa strolled about with Lysander, Edana and Ziri had teleported back to Kyanopolis. Ziri selected a cohort of guardsmen to escort her and Bessa, while Edana selected a trunkful of silver from her craftsman. Back in Abris they decided to use for their transport Lady Nensela¡¯s fancy blue carpentum, trimmed with gold and warmed inside with a firestone. They had to refine their plan somewhat¡ªthe Red Daggers were aware of Edana¡¯s previous ¡®cover¡¯ as a silver broker. So, Edana decided their reserve story was Bessa¡¯s betrothal. They would declare she was seeking an enchanted wedding ring in Elamis, one that would ensure the fidelity and undying love of the bearer. Ziri and Senet both agreed the Anshani would think it plausible a Rasena Valentian would need such a ring, as the divorces amongst the elite classes of Rasena Valentis were both notorious and frowned upon in Anshan. ¡°That¡¯s a goal that shouldn¡¯t attract a truth-seer¡¯s attention,¡± Ziri judged, as he escorted them to their carriage. Senet¡¯s dragon waited nearby. ¡°But if you do go before a truth-seer, we¡¯ll need you to have a story about your engagement¡ª¡± ¡°Not necessary,¡± Bessa snapped, giving Edana her most baleful glare. Lysander had also come to see them off, and he side-eyed Edana¡¯s suggestion. Undaunted, Edana adopted an innocent expression. Not even a wink as she accepted Ziri¡¯s help in boarding the carriage. Lysander grabbed Bess¡¯s arm, holding her back. Protestations of her innocence stood poised on her tongue. Did he think she¡¯d put Edana up to that little stunt? Whether he did or not, he did not say, nor did he seem to hold it against her. Instead, he detached a dagger from his belt, and presented it to her. ¡°If trouble should find you,¡± he said. Bessa slid the knife from its sheath. An officer¡¯s dagger? No, this one was unusual: ivory, with a hydra-head hilt. A motto in Old Pelasgian was engraved along the guard. ¡°Centuries ago, in the city where I was born, a sorcerer cursed the people to be attacked by eidolons. Evil spirits possessed the people, and made them devour each other. The fabled Zotikos was alive in those days, and my ancestor asked him to make a suitable weapon,¡± Lysander said, his gaze never leaving her face. ¡°This is Venom. Zotikos made it from a hydra¡¯s tooth, and no enemy struck with it every failed to go down. No matter how big, or how powerful. Keep it with you always.¡± Her heart fluttered. In all the years of their engagement all she had from him was his silence. To receive now from him a cherished heirloom, and potent protection at that¡­ ¡°Th-thank you,¡± she faltered. Lysander¡¯s slate eyes clouded, and he pulled back the sleeves of his tunic to show her the bands of opalescent metal he wore at his wrists. Bracers of moonbow steel, forged and blessed by Khratu¡¯s priests. The betrothal gift she commissioned for him, with ore taken from her own father¡¯s battle spoils. ¡°I hope you won¡¯t need to use it. But promise me you won¡¯t hesitate if you do.¡± ¡°I promise,¡± she said firmly. ¡°You be careful, too.¡± With that, Lysander gallantly helped her into the carriage. They sped on their way. For a time Senet accompanied them, flying overhead on his dragon, but soon enough they came to the Quicksilver Gorge. Flowing south from the Ethereal Sea, the mighty Quicksilver River cut a path through a great chasm that divided Hesperios and Tsitahna from each other. The empire of Anshan straddled both continents, though most of it lay within Tsitahna. Here the caravan halted, and Bessa and Edana rushed from their carriage to stand on a promontory overlooking the Quicksilver. Eagerly they watched the silvery currents roiling past them, and pondered what the Ethereal Sea itself would look like. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be wonderful to see it?¡± Bessa ventured, a trifle sheepish. ¡°The shores of the Ethereal? A thing to tell grandchildren. It would ... almost be shameful to not take this chance ¡­¡± ¡°And it¡¯s not as if we would try and sail to Qir?.¡± The island where humanity awakened, and where no one born of man and woman was permitted to ever return. ¡°Oh, no! No, no, we wouldn¡¯t,¡± Edana said quickly. ¡°A look at the sea alone would suffice.¡± But duty called, and in the end they kept to their course. Senet sought the most direct route to the port, and thus he flew south along the Quicksilver. Bessa and Edana had to restrict themselves to the trade routes their little caravan could travel, and thus they continued east, crossing bridges wherever possible. Only when they went beyond the gorge could the women turn south, towards Elamis. As they drew near they were pleasantly surprised to discover winter¡¯s bite didn¡¯t penetrate so thoroughly in that region. In the daytime they hardly needed their cloaks during those times they stepped out of their carriage. Every night; however, they made sure to ensconce themselves at hearths in the inns where they stopped. When they came to Elamis early on the fifth day of their journey relief and awe washed over them. Since coming to Anshan they passed several structures they learned were ziggurats, tiered pyramids used as temples. It could not be an accident, Bessa declared, that the City of Magi appeared to be one gigantic ziggurat. Was a spell at work in the arrangement as well? The city was nestled like a jewel, surrounded on three sides by the walls of the mountain, with a relatively narrow opening for the gates. On each side of the opening stood a colossal statue, each one depicting a renowned sorcerer, according to Bessa¡¯s travel guide. Staircases flanked the wagon path leading up to the gates, each with one hundred steps. Once beyond the gates the terrain leveled somewhat, revealing the city was not a grid but a circle. Shops and market squares dominated the first level, where tourists were permitted to mingle at will. Beyond this the city rose again, forming a second tier of homes. Per the travelogue, the third tier contained the government and temple district. The third tier fascinated them. From their vantage point on the high outer walls of the city, they glimpsed a lake in the distance which glistened in the sunlight. ¡°How gorgeous!¡± Bessa exclaimed. Rising from the lake was an imposing plateau, tall and round. In its center stood a three-stage citadel with a tower of its own. The tower afforded a view of all sides of the city. Anyone inside could watch everyone below ¡­ ¡°You are fortunate,¡± a watchman said in Rasenan, noticing them marveling at the tower. ¡°Often the mists hide the lake and the tower both.¡± He tapped his mace against a leather strongbox in the baggage wagon, prompting one of the ¡°porters¡± to open it for inspection. While the border guards inspected their baggage, Bessa waited with Edana in the shadow of one of the numerous watchtowers along the wall. A city watchman stood beside them. The porters¡ªbodyguards supplied by Ziri¡ªjealously guarded the goods. One in particular stayed close to the inspector at all times, and made a show of making sure the inspectors did not ¡®confiscate¡¯ any of their goods. He was careful not to provoke them into arresting him. ¡°What¡¯s in the tower?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°Our protector of course,¡± the watchman replied, as though she should have known. Edana exchanged a glance with her. After everything they¡¯d been through, they now looked at the city¡¯s arrangement in martial terms: its back was covered, there were multiple high points, and only one way in, under the watchful eye of the protector¡ªthe satrap who governed this region of Anshan. Of course, there was no retreat, either, from what they could see. A siege could be most effectively used against the Elamisi. Did they account at all for the possibility? Edana stood on her toes and stretched her neck. ¡°I don¡¯t see a bridge from here,¡± she said. ¡°Is there one? How do people visit your king?¡± The watchman smiled proudly. ¡°One cannot just go to the palace, miss. Should you visit the lake, you¡¯ll see a portal. If you have a key, you may use it to enter the palace. It is as simple as that.¡± ¡°That lake is a gorgeous color.¡± Edana feigned a casual tone. ¡°Indeed, and you may look, but do not venture in, young lovelies. Our protector is well-guarded by the three-headed dragon that dwells in that lake.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± Edana said with undisguised regret. ¡°I was hoping you¡¯d tell me the waters were an elixir of some kind. Is beauty its sole attribute?¡± ¡°It will not bestow eternal youth or beauty or life,¡± he said, and rubbed his hands together as he warmed up to his lecture. ¡°You must accept that those gifts will pass away¡ªat least they will if you¡¯re relying on those waters to preserve them.¡± ¡°Very well,¡± Edana relented, apparently deciding to suffer his evasions. Another watchman came toward them. He carried a plain wooden box, which he opened when he reached them. ¡°Hold out your hands,¡± he droned. Edana stiffened, and made no move to comply. He brought out a bracelet of thin, twisted brass coils. ¡°What is this?¡± she demanded. ¡°Our gatekeepers say you have no powers, no gifts from the gods,¡± he monotoned. ¡°This will mark you as Unfavored. If you are in our city beyond seven days, you will be asked to account for your purposes. Do you understand?¡± He insistently held out the bracelet. Unfavored? Edana glared and Bessa frowned. True, in Rasena Valentis sorcerers were said to have gifts or blessings. But to speak of those lacking in gifts as unfavored suggested divine judgment. And the Elamisi took pains to physically distinguish those ¡®favored¡¯ and those not. ¡°Seven days?¡± Bessa piped up. ¡°What does it mean to you, ¡®unfavored¡¯?¡± Edana demanded. ¡°Does this limit our rights?¡± The second watchman cocked his head, but it was the first watchman who answered. ¡°Do not be alarmed, young lovely,¡± he crooned. ¡°You may think of the bracelets as a border pass. No one will have the right to harm you, if that is your fear.¡± His voice hardened as he said, ¡°But you will have to explain yourself before the Watch if you wish to stay beyond your allotted time. That is seven days for all visitors.¡± ¡°Suppose we did need to stay an extra day or more?¡± Edana asked, keeping her eyes on his face. ¡°On what grounds would you deny us?¡± He shrugged, and glanced away. ¡°Keep your conduct above reproach. Be prepared to leave at once if you are denied extensions.¡± Bessa crossed her arms beneath her bosom. The officer¡¯s evasions made her suspect the ¡®unfavored¡¯ were subjected to arbitrary rules, and vulnerable to corrupt officials. Resistance would profit them nothing; however, so she nodded her assent when Edana glanced at her. With a small exhale Edana took the bracelet and slid it on. Bessa did the same, as did their guards. They were free to go. As they traveled to Elamis they had studied the dossier Ziri had had prepared for them. Therefore, they made way to a certain neighborhood in the second tier of the city, where the Fire Lords were concentrated. The oldest part of the city, Lord Senet had said. In Ember Square the Salamandra were going about their business. Merchants in the stalls called out their pitches. They always initially spoke in Anshani, or if addressing Edana, they used Eitanite greetings. For Bessa they gamely switched to Pelasgian or Rasenan. ¡°Our clothes show us as outsiders,¡± Bessa pointed out to Edana. Indeed, Anshani women¡ªhuman or Salamandra¡ªwore samite kaftans with glorious patterns of exotic flowers or peacocks or firebirds. A practical necessity as well, as the mountain air was cool and crisp. Others wore tunics woven from a luxuriant blend of silk and cashmere, which both Bessa and Edana coveted. In contrast, they themselves wore winter-weight woolen chitons embroidered only at the hems and sleeve cuffs. A snow-fox cloak kept Bessa warm, and Edana relied on a wool, fleece-mantled cape. ¡°We¡¯ll rectify the differences later,¡± Edana replied. The Salamandra were not the only multilingual merchants; they¡¯d passed humans who made their pitches the same way. This confirmed the Elamisi only objected to non-sorcerers living in the city. Regardless of what people or nation they came from, sorcerers were welcome. In this cosmopolitan city, soldiers weren¡¯t the only ones able to speak to foreigners. Salamandra children ran along behind their mothers. Delighted and intrigued, Bessa stopped to watch them. A particular pair of youngsters caught her eye. They appeared to be brother and sister, and swung a basket between them as they went from stall to stall, engaging in witty rounds of haggling with the merchants. Threading their way through the marketplace, she and Edana came at last to a magnificent building. From some angles it was a glossy black, at others forest green or deep violet or scarlet red. Fire obsidian, per Ziri¡¯s dossier. The entrance was inset into a projecting red jasper arch that terminated in jasper caryatids of a pair of Salamandra. The majestic copper doors were shut, with no obvious way to open them. Now for the moment of truth. The dossier described the Fire Lords as elusive, secretive; they never assembled as a governing body with outsiders present. Furthermore, they did not use titles of nobility amongst outsiders. Anticipating their difficulty, Tarkhana had given them a letter of introduction from Lady Aelia, the imperial seer who had advised them to visit the Fire Lords in the first place. On the way to Anshan the women studied the ¡®letter.¡¯ Rather than words on parchment it was a copper plate, engraved and etched with inscriptions and hieroglyphs, in a mysterious language neither had seen before. Blessedly, the copper letter came with an ordinary parchment letter from Lady Aelia herself. She had illustrated instructions for genuflecting to the Fire Lords. At the bottom of the parchment she commented she had completed her recovery from the First Battle of Red Pointe. ¡°Oh good, her arm finished growing back,¡± Bessa noted. The women approached the door and stood on a ¡®rug¡¯ of red tiles tessellated into a pattern of undulating fire. According to Ziri, the tiles activated a scryer¡¯s mirror inside the building. ¡°Good day to you,¡± a cool voice said. ¡°Hello,¡± Edana said, glancing around. In vain, because there was no indication of where the voice came from. ¡°My name is Edana Nuriel, and this is Bessa Philomelos. We come from Rasena Valentis, and seek the counsel of the Fire Lords.¡± ¡°All the way from Rasena Valentis, hmm?¡± The disembodied voice sounded intrigued. The door swung open. Chapter 17: Gifts of the Fire Lords Chapter XVII Gifts of the Fire Lords In which the Fire Lords offer a boon They stepped forward, and light flashed. When their sight returned, they found themselves in a circular room. Quiet, tranquil, the room was perfumed by the flowering vines climbing over its stone walls. Gleaming green obsidian formed seamless tiles on the floor. Lovely enough, but what made them gasp in awe was the centerpiece of the room, a spring from which burned an eternal flame. Fascinated, Bessa crept toward it. Rainbow obsidian rocks enclosed the spring. Murky water hid whatever might be in the depths, but the fire rippling over the surface was the true marvel, of course. What power was this? Suddenly, three men walked out of the walls. Startled, Bessa stumbled backwards, stopping only when Edana touched her arm to steady her. The men approached opposite the spring. All three loomed over them, with the shortest one at six-feet-two while the others were seven feet tall. Salamandra, and these looked no older than they. Turquoise hair rings and amulets threaded through their long, jet black hair clinked as they walked. Sapphire flames embroidered on their saffron robes seemed to ripple as they strode forward. The men stopped their approach when they reached the spring. Clink-clack, sounded the amulets as the men bowed over the flames. The ¡°short¡± one in the middle spoke first. ¡°I am Flame Keeper Arevik, and these are Flame Keepers Azar and Roshan. You wished to see the Fire Lords?¡± Ziri¡¯s dossier explained that in every generation, young Salamandra dedicated themselves to studying the lore and history of their people. Such youths were referred to as ¡®flame keepers.¡¯ In her instructions, Lady Aelia insisted the flame keepers were not priests, as they performed no sacred rites. The flame keepers may spend a good fifty years or more studying all of their history and transcribing it for a new generation, and they afterward may become priests or government officials or move on to other phases of their lives. Edana approached the spring and held out the wrapped copper plate over the eternal flame, in accordance with the customs Lady Aelia had described. Arevik took the plate, and they both took one step back. His companions unwrapped the cloth, exposing the copper sheet. Again he held it over the eternal flame. This time, a fine blue mist rose from the sheet and formed strange glyphs in the air. A likeness of Lady Aelia appeared in the mist. She stood on a hill, against a sunset, both arms clasped over her chest. Her soft voice echoed against the stones as she spoke in a language of the Salamandra. ¡°Incredible,¡± Bessa marveled. However, her voice also echoed, and she cringed. When Lady Aelia stopped speaking the mist vanished, and Arevik removed the plate, wrapping it again. ¡°Come with us,¡± Arevik said. Roshan walked through the wall. Up close, they saw the faint outline of the portal glyphs. If the portal closed, anyone in the spring room would be trapped¡ªor safe from invaders, depending on one¡¯s point of view. The remaining flame keepers flanked the portal. Azar jerked his head towards it, a silent invitation. Edana stepped through first, and Bessa followed a moment later. Then came Azar and Arevik. Before them was pure paradise. Gorgeous clusters of bluish-lavender flowers twined over the arches shading a winding path. These arrested their attention first, and they wondered aloud what flowers these were. ¡°Wisteria,¡± Roshan informed them. Silver and pink-feathered grasses bordered the stone-paved path. Somewhere nearby, unseen, a brook babbled. Yet high overhead a sheer crystal dome sent down dazzling sunlight. ¡°A viridarium!¡± Bessa grabbed Edana¡¯s arm in her excitement. She leaned over and dropped her voice into sotto voce. ¡°A few years ago I had an architect draw up plans for one. It occurred to me Lysander might be posted to places with fruit trees or valuable plants that don¡¯t grow in Silura. Or Pelasgos, wherever we might live¡ªand he could have them sent to our estate, and we would keep them in the viridarium and profit from them. I wonder if we¡¯re in a four-quadrant viridarium? The all-terrain kind that mimics the soil and climate and such for plants from all over Thuraia?¡± ¡°The starting price for a four-quadrant viridarium equal in size to the winter garden at your estate would be no less than ten wagonloads of silver from my mines,¡± Edana replied. She strode over to an arch, closed her eyes, and took a deep inhale of wisteria. The enraptured expression on her face prompted Bessa to experience the wisteria¡¯s scent for herself. With a quick glance at the flame keepers, she plucked a sprig and wrapped it carefully in her handkerchief before stowing it in the purse belted to her waist. As they walked on Edana said, ¡°Perhaps concentrate on getting the sun crystals themselves for a larger winter garden? That would only require two wagons.¡± Winter gardens were mono-terrain, mono-climate viridaria, used for extending local growing seasons into winter. At Bessa¡¯s vineyard, the winter garden also sheltered extra grape vines in case of blight or drought. Or, as Bessa bitterly amended to herself, raids by giants. ¡°My father was only an engineer and he brought back moonbow steel as battle spoils; Lysander is a red gryphon. For a betrothal gift I gave him blessed bracers made from Papa¡¯s moonbow, so he would have Khratu¡¯s aid in his battle strategies ¡­ I was optimistic before I met him.¡± Edana gave her a lopsided smile. ¡°Before you met him. And now?¡± ¡°I¡¯m dusting off those plans. Just one ounce of moonbow is all we¡¯d need to fund this, and then some. Let¡¯s look around for ideas. Now¡¯s our chance to see what¡¯s possible.¡± Soon enough they came to the ¡°brook.¡± Obsidian rocks and dressed stones lined a channel of water flowing from one side of the garden to the other. The channel proved to be a subterranean aqueduct, which fed the pool they spied beyond a stand of trees with yellow, pear-like fruit. Arevik snagged one and began snacking on it. ¡°Sweet quinces,¡± he said between bites. ¡°Go ahead, try some.¡± The women needed no further invitation. ¡°Delicious,¡± Bessa judged after her first nibble. The strange fruit tasted of apples and berries. Amused by the women¡¯s enthusiasm, the flamekeepers gave an impromptu tour. Having started in a temperate area, they took the women through the viridarium until they came to a shimmering light barrier. Stepping through it brought them to an exotic jungle quadrant, whose landscape elicited oohs and ahhs from the Rasena Valentians. The air in this quadrant was more sultry than the spring room, obliging them to shed their cloaks and fold them over their arms. ¡°Good thing we wore our formal sandals,¡± Edana said, pointing at their footwear. Formal meant their toes were covered, but their feet were otherwise exposed through fancy leather cutwork, with beaded floral embroidery on the insteps. Their feet would not sweat out their shoes in the heat. A heady scent drew them back to the aqueduct stream, where they found tall green stalks bearing snow white, butterfly-shaped flowers. Azar plucked two of them and held them out to the women. ¡°Breathe in these ginger lilies, and awaken your senses.¡± Inhaling the intoxicating fragrance did indeed awaken them, and Bessa replied, ¡°This should be used in perfume.¡± She tucked the flower into her hair, behind her ear. ¡°Incense also,¡± Edana agreed, likewise adding the flower to her hair. Another shimmer shield brought them to a xeriscape of lavender, aloes, sage and ornamental grasses. Lady Aelia¡¯s letter mentioned most Salamandra were fond of dry heat, and in this arid quadrant they encountered many Salamandra swanning about. Several of them wore silken sapphire robes embroidered with stark white flames. Of this set, two stood over an arrangement of flowers that Arevik said were saffron crocus. ¡°And note they¡¯re still in bloom. In the wild they would have already been harvested, for the saffron,¡± he pointed out. One of the inspectors, a woman, held a small knife at her side as she bent over one of the purple blossoms. The flower¡¯s precious red filaments had not yet been harvested. The man must have asked her a question, because she nodded at him, and handed him the knife. ¡°Forgive the intrusion,¡± Roshan said. The pair turned to look at him, the man doing a double take when he saw the humans, the woman narrowing her eyes at the flame keepers. Arevik opened his mouth, and out poured a strange liquid language. Rhaxhitl? Lady Aelia said it was the trading language among the Salamandra. Arevik gestured to the copper sheet, and the woman said one syllable, the man said another, and Arevik seemed to say an entire volume in response. Finally, the sapphire-robed pair nodded and the man held out his hands, taking the sheet from Arevik. Arevik and his companions clasped their arms over their chests, dipped their knees, and walked backwards out of the shimmer shield. The woman addressed them, her tone brisk. ¡°You may call me Zareen Prime, it is my title in this land.¡± She gestured to her companion. ¡°And his title is zaran, and as he is the second to bear the rank, you may call him Zaran Secundus, in the way of your people.¡± You¡¯ll know you¡¯re dealing with the inner circle if any of them use titles that mean golden. Zareen if a woman, or zaran if a man, but they might use Rasenan or Pelasgian with you instead of Anshani. And if you meet someone whose title means ¡®adamant,¡¯ this will be the leader. So Ziri¡¯s dossier had taught them. Zaran Secundus said, ¡°Our prophets warned us about you. Come.¡± Edana and Bessa exchanged glances, and found their faces mirrored one another¡¯s astonishment. ¡°Warned you?¡± Edana managed. ¡°We come in peace! We are no threat¡ª¡± ¡°You are harbingers of the end of things,¡± Zareen Prime cut in. ¡°This day was foretold long ago.¡± Her posture sagged, as if a great weight had settled upon her. She led them through another shimmer shield, bringing them to a small amphitheater; it would seat no more than fifty. Seven white cushions were spaced at regular intervals on a dais in the center of the stage. However, Zareen indicated they should sit in the lowest tier of the amphitheatre. She strode towards a curtain of vines at the back of the dais, her long copper braid bouncing at her back. She struck a gong, whose resonance Bessa felt in her bones. Zaran Secundus took the second cushion from the left. Zareen Prime took the third cushion from the right. They sat cross legged, their robes concealing their feet. Five other blue-robed Salamandra materialized, perched perfectly on the previously empty cushions. Edana arched an eyebrow and exchanged another glance with Bessa. The Salamandran in the middle cushion, a man, wore a triple-strand of fine gold chains about his head. Each chain met with a ring in the center, encircling his horns. From the bottom ring dangled a stone. In his primer Ziri confided his suspicion the stone was a rare blue adamant, not a sapphire. Whatever the gem might be, it rested between the man¡¯s eyes, which were a remarkable fiery topaz reminiscent of Lady Aelia¡¯s eyes. Zaran Secundus passed Lady Aelia¡¯s copper letter to the man on his left, and the man in turn passed it to the man in the middle. The man cradled it with both hands. Like the others clad in blue robes, this man¡¯s nails were just long enough to hint of talons. Fire bloomed in his hands, matching his robes. Again the fine blue mist rose up from the sheet, and again they saw Lady Aelia. When it was over the man extinguished his flames. ¡°The Sending is true,¡± the man said in Rasenan. He leveled a measuring stare at Bessa and Edana. ¡°Zareen Prime said your prophets mentioned us?¡± Edana ventured. Harbinger of the end of things. What could that mean? Lady Nensela had not mentioned any such thing. Then again, she hadn¡¯t mentioned Sel¨¤na either. ¡°You may call me Khorshid. It is my name in this land,¡± he replied, sidestepping the question of his title. Rewrapping the copper sheet he asked, ¡°Do you know of Sendings? Have you seen one before?¡± ¡°A prophet we know, Lady Nensela of Ta-Seti, did a Sending in our presence once, to project her mind elsewhere,¡± Bessa answered. ¡°Are we sure they are the ones?¡± asked a man, who sat immediately to Khorshid¡¯s left. Assuming the Salamandra to the right of Khorshid sat in the same arrangement as Zareen Prime¡¯s group, then he would be Zaran Tertius. ¡°Maybe they are just¡ª¡± Khorshid silenced him with a raised finger. His eyes never left the Rasena Valentian women. ¡°For the record, say now what you are named.¡± ¡°I am Edana Nuriel of Silura, daughter of Sorcha of Yriel, and Min¡¯da Nuriel of Eitan.¡± After a beat Bessa said, ¡°And I¡¯m Elisabet Bessa Philomelos, Bessa to my friends. Daughter of Morwenna Pendry and Nikandros Bessus Philomelos, also of Silura. Is your prophecy so specific?¡± Khorshid smiled, and the other fire lords tittered nervously. ¡°To which gods do you give allegiance?¡± ¡°The Sower,¡± Edana said promptly. ¡°The success of my vineyard is due to the Reaper¡¯s blessings,¡± Bessa said. ¡°To Him I give honor and sacrifices.¡± Khorshid caught the zaran¡¯s eye and asked, ¡°Are the conditions satisfied?¡± The zaran inhaled. In a sonorous voice he intoned, ¡°From the west will come the daughter of the Light, who will lift prayers to the Sower and carry weapons of the Huntress. With her shall come a servant of the Reaper, who will bear an everlasting quill, writing words of fire and honey.¡± Bessa gaped, then quickly shut her mouth. Whatever the Salamandra sought to prove, they had shown some gift of prophecy: she wrote with a phoenix-feather quill, a treasure bestowed on her by Emperor Tarkhana. Khorshid beckoned to them. ¡°Come forward, and fear not.¡± They obeyed, and knelt before Khorshid. Without warning the other Salamandra encircled them, the men on Bessa¡¯s left and the women on Edana¡¯s right, and joined hands. The Salamandra had cool, dry hands, they discovered. ¡°We will show you another kind of Sending,¡± Khorshid said. ¡°Though it may frighten you, know we are here with you, and will let no harm come to you.¡± Bessa blinked. Now that he suggested she might be afraid, her heart pounded. ¡°What¡ª¡± ¡°Shh,¡± Zareen Prime hushed her. ¡°Close your eyes, the both of you. Count with us now. One. Two. Three¡­¡± The air changed from arid to brisk, and Bessa felt goose pimples along her arms and neck. Edana¡¯s earrings chimed as a breeze disturbed them. ¡°Open your eyes now,¡± Khorshid said. Before she could obey, Bessa heard Edana gasp. She steeled herself, and slowly opened her eyes. ¡°Oh!¡± she cried. The garden had vanished. Instead they stood now in a stark white pavilion surrounding a pool of quicksilver, whose mirror-like surface showed their reflections with perfect clarity¡­ ¡­ as well as revealing the two silvery moons shining down on them. Immediately she swung her gaze skyward. Two moons illuminated the night sky, one at the zenith and the other a shade below it. Alien stars twinkled overhead. ¡°Where is our moon?¡± Bessa breathed. A blue marble with white clouds had always graced the night sky. Equal parts wonder and terror fought it out inside her, and wonder won out: this was something to write about! She turned around, taking in her surroundings. The Fire Lords were standing inside a ring of twenty-four white standing stones. Studying the stones, twenty-four became twelve, as she realized two stones each supported a lintel. The lintels of each pair jutted out to join with the lintels of the neighboring pair of stones, forming a complete circle. In each lintel strange glyphs glowed silver in the moonlight. Twelve pairs. Did the glyphs represent a zodiac? Again she looked up at the alien sky. In vain she searched for the Guiding Star, but found only a void in the darkness where it ought to be. ¡°Where are we?¡± Edana¡¯s tone was quiet, with an edge. ¡°In Rasena Valentis you would say we are in an oraculum. An open-air oraculum,¡± Khorshid answered. ¡°But your real question¡ªyou are in our world. Our homeworld, before the Exodus.¡± By the gods! ¡°We were told the dryads and sea dragons guard against invaders,¡± Edana said slowly. ¡°So did they invite you in?¡± ¡°Not at all. True to their purpose, when they perceived our invasion they acted. Within a year of our arrival¡ªfour thousand years ago¡ªthe dryads began what some call the Dryad-Salamandra Wars. Others call it the War of Fire, Rain, and Thunder. But you wonder why we came, don¡¯t you?¡± Khorshid asked. He pointed one long forefinger toward the pool, calling their attention to it. The waters frothed. Within three heartbeats the surface stilled, and a scene unfolded. A Salamandran man stood on a dark plain, armored in an orichalcum cuirass and a leather helmet trimmed in orichalcum. The helmet made allowance for his spikes, which he¡¯d painted in swirls of white. He was not alone. Shadows surrounded him¡ªor so it seemed. Then clouds passed by, allowing the light of the twin moons to clarify the situation . ¡°Giants,¡± Edana whispered. Six giants hemmed in the soldier, trapping him in their midst. ¡°They came to our world long ago,¡± Khorshid confirmed. ¡°From nothing they came. To nothing they went, when they perished. They left only a trail of our dead.¡± ¡°Four thousand years ago?¡± Edana said. ¡°The Long War,¡± Bessa intoned. ¡°A war we lost. A world we lost,¡± Khorshid mourned. ¡°And the bitterness of it all, the agony of it all, is that our defeat did not come through lack of might. It came through lack of character.¡± If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Bessa fastened her gaze on the lone officer. ¡°How many worlds are there? Have the others fallen?¡± ¡°This answer was not known to our elders, and so it is not known to us. They ran. From their duty. From their purpose, to protect our world. From even the keeping of the memories, and because they chose not to remember, there is much I cannot say.¡± From their purpose. Edana¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Who do you belong to? The dryads claim the Huntress, and the sea dragons the Sea Lord. And you?¡± Zareen Prime stepped forward. ¡°We come in pairs, mortal one: we belong to neither the Sea Lord nor the Huntress, nor the Restorer. No, not even the Reaper.¡± ¡°What do you mean, you come in pairs?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°Just as humans do,¡± Zareen Prime answered patiently. What did that mean? Wait¡ªdryads and naiads were all female, and the sea dragons were all male. But the khrestai were either male or female ¡­ ¡°So you marry and have children? What is the significance?¡± Edana asked. ¡°Each world has guardians, if your world and ours is anything to go by,¡± Khorshid explained. ¡°Guardians are the ones you call the Children. As guardians they are singular in purpose. Dryad lawyers, naiad playwrights, sea dragon carpenters¡ªsuch as these do not exist. Family is limited to sisters or brothers, who share as mother the same goddess, or as father the same god. They marry not, nor bear or sire children. On occasion they may become entangled with a mortal, and have a half-blood child. Naiads may do that, sometimes¡ªthey have a lesser burden. You humans are allowed other choices, as are we Salamandra.¡± ¡°But you¡¯re immortal. As are the Ta-Setians and the khrestai,¡± Edana pointed out. Khorshid was not done surprising them. ¡°In order of battle we are the reserves. The Ta-Setians for your world, as we were for ours. Khrestai serve only the guardians, and so they do not live amongst you as the Ta-Setians might.¡± Bessa pondered this. What she knew of the legions told her the reserves came at the end of battle formations: the Salamandra could not have been alone on their world. ¡°Were the giants the guardians on your world? Who do they belong to? Lady Nensela suggested the Reaper?¡± A look passed between the Salamandra. As one they turned to Khorshid, who squared his shoulders and answered. ¡°We fear they may have been the guardians. We know not their progenitors. Four thousand years. Instead of progressing we have spent generation upon generation trying to correct the mistakes of our ancestors, to uncover what they suppressed in their shame.¡± Edana arched an eyebrow. ¡°So you are not a race of immortals?¡± They caught her meaning. ¡°That generation of elders was punished: the blessing of immortality was withdrawn from them. Ash and dust is all they are now,¡± said another of the Salamandra. ¡°That is not why we brought you here; however. Observe,¡± Zareen Prime commanded. They looked to the pool again. The scene changed. Now an army of Salamandra battled an army of giants. The giants towered over the Salamandra, but the fight was not might against might. Certain giants wielded staves which opened a vortex. Everything in the path of the vortex vanished from sight. Escape was impossible, but the Salamandra astonished the onlookers by not even attempting to. Wherever two Salamandra clustered they stood back to back and surrounded themselves with a glittering silver shield. The shield repulsed the vortex, reverberating onto the giants. In short order the giants broke off the vortex attacks, and resorted to lightning. Unlike the First Battle of Red pointe, they used their staves instead of the lightweight thunder maces. The Salamandra set the plains ablaze, turning the grassland to a fiery lake, just as Lady Aelia had done on the beach at Red Pointe. And just as at Red Pointe, the Salamandra discovered the cost of killing many giants at once. But instead of a draconic lion creature, the giants coalesced into more straightforward dragons. In this form they withstood the fire of the Salamandra. And swallowed them whole. The pool rippled, obliterating the scene. For several heartbeats all was silent as the Rasena Valentian women digested what they¡¯d seen. ¡°What is the threshold?¡± Edana asked at last. ¡°Lady Aelia liquefied the sand at Red Pointe, and the giants she slew perished, but we were able to stop them from regenerating. There were only fifty of them or so. But when Pegasus Prime Roswald and the wingmen killed a hundred giants, they turned into a colossal lion-dragon-man.¡± In answer, the pool rippled again. Instead of a battlefield the scene was a temple. Robed Salamandra were hurriedly packing scrolls into trunks, an air of desperation about them. One of them seemed oblivious to the frenetic activity, intent on his own mission. He carried an ornate box in his hands, and strode into a room. The robed man locked the door. Armored soldiers were waiting for him in the room. The robed Salamandran addressed them. To their astonishment, Bessa and Edana understood every word he was saying, though they knew he was using a different language. One hundred plus fifty. One hundred and fifty giants were the minimal needed for the giants to coalesce together. The creature they turned into grew in proportion to their number. ¡°So if we fight them,¡± Edana mused, ¡°we must divide them by no more than that number. How did you come here? Is that how the giants are coming here?¡± The scene changed again. This time it showed them a circle of standing stones like the one they stood in, except between each pair of columns were swirls of copper and verdigris clouds. The clouds swirled open, revealing a shimmering green sky, edged with bands of red and violet. Salamandra crowded the circle, but moved through the portals in an orderly fashion. The scene shifted once more, to show one massive gate inside a cavern. ¡°They went through a realm gate, what we call the world Gates. Such a Gate was once here in the wastes between Anshan and Xia. It is gone now, lost in one of the Cataclysms,¡± Khorshid said. ¡°But it is clear there is another.¡±
¡°Another gate?¡± Bessa managed. ¡°So Lady Nensela was right about that.¡± Lorekeepers spoke of Seven Gates, but apparently there were more ¡­ The ominous reference Zareen Prime used to describe Edana and Bessa would not leave Edana¡¯s mind. Warily, she eyed the Salamandra woman and asked, ¡°You said we are harbingers of the end. Define what you mean by that, please.¡± Khorshid answered, ¡°Our prophets foretold this day, as we said. That in this time, we will be judged again. If we are found wanting we will perish utterly. And if we are not, then Yadon will determine our fate, and set a new task upon us. But that matter concerns only us. You have come for your own concerns, yes?¡± Shocked, Edana attempted to grapple with the gravity of his statement. Contemplating the giants and their ambition to destroy the world was one matter. One could strategize and come up with plans upon plans. Contemplating oncoming divine judgment was another matter entirely, against which no battle could be fought. ¡°Mercy and favor to you,¡± Edana said at last. ¡°For our part, we seek help fighting the giants and the Erebossi who aid them. Is this the task you failed at? In four thousand years I trust you¡¯ve figured out how to succeed this time?¡± Voice laced with asperity, Edana found she was clenching her fists. Once, twice, she tried to relax. Finally she resorted to folding her arms, but the tension in her body would not leave her. The Aeternity War. This was the name Halie gave to their fight. War. Which meant multiple battles and skirmishes, setbacks and victories. In this war at least one major battle resulted in defeat: an entire world lost. I¡¯m scared I¡¯m walking on the edge of a cliff. One wrong step, and down I fall, Bessa had said once. Thousands of years ago the world of the Salamandra had fallen to the giants. In the millennia since, how many more worlds were lost? Was Thuraia the last one? Erebossa¡¯s forces had knocked the sea dragons back on their heels, the naiad springs were under attack, and Ziri said something was afoot with the dryads. And Halie is here. At long last she must grapple with the implications of that fact: Halie, a direct child of the Sea Lord, imbued with His powers, had come to Thuraia by His will. That had to mean something. Perhaps Thuraia was a last stand? ¡°We have redeemed our time, young one,¡± Zareen Prime replied. ¡°When the prophecy waxes full we will lay aside our immortality for you. We know you have a shadow key. It is safe to show us here.¡± Shadow key? Right, the keystone, which the sorceress Cingetissa declared led to another realm. Murena¡¯s lair? Edana removed it from her bag. Khorshid came to her and took it. ¡°Na¡¯ertum,¡± he uttered. ¡°With this blessing I have turned the eye of the abyssal king away from you. When you go to his realm, he will be blind to you. You and your companion must both touch this stone when the time comes.¡± He returned the keystone to her, and stepped back. He began to speak again, and spread his arms in a gesture encompassing the circle. ¡°In the days when our elders still trod on this ground, they were betrayed. I said weakness of will lost us this world, but we might have survived if it were not for those who allied themselves with the children of the Abyssal Serpent. The elders refused to slay the betrayers, refused to fight them. It went against our laws, to slay our own, and they treasured obedience to that law above their duty and our survival.¡± ¡°We have dealt with our own betrayers,¡± Bessa said. ¡°If there are more, we will deal with them, too. Is there nothing else you can tell us? Why are Erebossi helping the giants to destroy us? The giants keep saying they are ¡®children,¡¯ and the ¡®servants¡¯ will fall. Is it so that the Nasiru are the servants in question?¡± The Salamandra reacted. ¡°There may be hope yet,¡± Zaran Secundus said. ¡°You have redeemed your time as well, I see. Yes, the Nasiru serve. In our lore they are not truly gods; they are created beings who are guardians of the created: You. Us.¡± Bessa glanced at Edana, but Edana was not surprised. What Zaran Secundus said aligned with the Scrolls of Truth. ¡°Indeed we have redeemed our time. One thousand days until the summer solstice eclipse,¡± Edana replied. ¡°From the night of Lady Nensela¡¯s vision, which she shared with four other prophets at the time of the harvest equinox two years ago. Six months are all we have left in the countdown.¡± ¡°The timeline matches ancient prophecies given by our own seers,¡± Zareen Prime noted. ¡°We cannot waste any time,¡± Khorshid said. ¡°The keystone you have more than likely belongs to a high-ranking abyssal. A king, as sorcerers would address them when making petitions. Many lesser abyssals will be at his disposal.¡± ¡°Yes, five of them, and we¡¯ve already disposed of them. Well, the five we knew about,¡± Edana said. ¡°It turns out there was a sixth we didn¡¯t.¡± ¡°On this side of the Shadow Gates. Now note well: Elamis is built as a ziggurat. A temple. But in this case it is a particular kind of temple, one specifically dedicated to the dead. A nekromanteion, as the Pelasgians say. Or a shadow gate. But it is guarded by the city¡¯s king, and to get to him, you will need another kind of key,¡± said Khorshid. ¡°Is your¡ªprotector?¡ªto be trusted?¡± Bess asked. ¡°He seems intent on keeping away outsiders.¡± Khorshid made a deep, sibilant noise. A word in Rhaxitl? But aloud he spoke Rasenan, saying, ¡°He is not our protector. Though we obey the laws of this land, we are not of it. As for you, he is specifically keeping you away. His seers have warned him he will meet his doom at the hands of three women: two will be in league together. Two from the Far West, one loyal to the Sower, one to the Reaper. The third will hail from the Far East, and will be loyal to the Huntress. Search her out if you will take him down.¡± There was more. The Salamandra presented them with a pouch of crystals. Months ago they used the crystals to capture the light of the sun at sunset, at the time of the autumn equinox. ¡°Tomorrow night is the winter solstice,¡± Zareen Prime said. ¡°The shadow forces will be ascendant. When the solstice moon reaches its zenith, capture its light with these crystals. On the vernal equinox you will capture the light of the sun at dawn. And on the resurrection solstice, the light will reign. Harvest the light of the sun when it reaches its zenith. On each occasion you will use the ritual we will teach to you. Do as instructed, and you will have the means to survive Murena¡¯s lair.¡± ¡°Wait¡ªisn¡¯t the battle going to start at dawn? The eclipse¡ª¡± Bessa protested. ¡°Will come in its time, but its time is not yours,¡± Zareen Prime declared. ¡°Gird yourself: the lair awaits you.¡± ¡°Amyntas save us,¡± Bessa prayed. ¡°May He save you indeed, sweet mortals. But first you must kill the satrap,¡± Khorshid reminded them. ¡°Make haste to find the huntress.¡±
They walked back from the fire temple through Ember Square. Bessa mechanically put one foot in front of the other, but took in no awareness of where she was going. So she didn¡¯t realize they were heading further up until she was confronted with the reflection of the sun on the lake. The lake was the same purple as the saffron crocuses gracing the viridarium of the Fire Lords. ¡°What shall it be, Bessa?¡± Edana asked, her voice so low that Bess was forced out of her reverie to listen. ¡°They said we have two choices to get into the palace. What shall we choose?¡± ¡°Choose?¡± Bessa said dully. She turned away from the lake, and for the first time realized they were in a park. Golden chrysanthemums lined the stone path where they¡¯d walked. Tamarisk trees swayed in the breeze. Her mind felt curiously empty. Only one thought dominated: a world had fallen. An entire world, and its people, had fallen to the giants. ¡°The Salamandra were betrayed by their own, Edana. Just as we were betrayed.¡± ¡°But we stopped our traitors. We¡¯ve hunted them down. And now¡ª¡± ¡°We had Lady Nensela,¡± Bessa snapped. ¡°Had Lady Nensela. Did you hear the Fire Lords? They kept to their old ways, and lost.¡± In contrast to Lady Nensela. Immortal and wise, she of many plans, and lost now to them. In her mind¡¯s eye, Bessa saw the seer, regal and commanding at her round table as she had been on the day Bessa met her. ¡°Lady Nensela is the reason we got this far. You know it, Edana. She got us here, and now she¡¯s gone. And now it¡¯s you and me, and we are¡±¡ªa laugh bubbled up in her throat¡ª ¡°ungifted. I am no strategist¡ª¡± ¡°Stop,¡± Edana snapped. She abruptly turned away, focusing on the lake. But Bessa was undaunted. ¡°The chosen army of the gods failed in their mission. And we¡¯re supposed to do better?¡± ¡°They didn¡¯t want to win,¡± Edana insisted. ¡°We will not fail, Bessa. Not me, not you, not Senet, or Ziri. Or, Great Sower help her, Lady Nensela. Stop. We don¡¯t have time. You helped me kill the duke, and now you will help me kill a satrap.¡± ¡°Oh? And a fellshade king, too, I suppose? This is a land we do not know. I knew how to rile up the people to support destroying our traitors, how do I convince a people who hate outsiders that they should listen to us¡ªwe, the ungifted¡ªand let us kill their leader?¡± ¡°So don¡¯t talk,¡± Edana said. She whirled back to face Bessa. ¡°Let us find the huntress. Perhaps she will have a way to dispatch the ruler.¡± ¡°They turned Murena¡¯s eyes from us,¡± Bessa said. ¡°But it¡¯s too late. Lady Nensela is gone, and we do not have her visions, or wisdom, or her strategy, and apparently, all of those factors made the difference between us and the Salamandra. We have only each other.¡± Edana held up a finger. ¡°And the Star Dragons¡±¡ªanother finger¡ª¡°plus your Lysander¡±¡ªthree fingers now¡ª¡°and also the emperor. Do you not remember a battlefield of dead enemies and a king of Erebossa we sent running? Do you not remember the part you played in their demise? Now is not the time for despair. Now is the time to collect another head, Siluran.¡± Frustrated, Bessa audibly exhaled. For once, she did not have the words. How could she explain that here and now it mattered they were on their own? For the first time she was working without an aegis to shield her: back home, she followed Grandmother¡¯s lead. Aurelia Cunovendi was a businesswoman to be reckoned with, and her wisdom and experience served as Bessa¡¯s Guide Star. Against the giants she followed Lady Nensela¡¯s lead, for Lady Nensela was unquestionably the leader and in command. Centuries of navigating through intrigues and danger made her a formidable strategist, and Bessa could take comfort of the wisdom of any advice she asked of the seer. A wisdom much greater than her own. Of course, there was also Ziri to look to; the master arcanus had kept everyone else alive so far. He, Lady Nensela, Grandmother, all of them had experience she drew upon. Experience, and insights gleaned from that experience. Insights she didn¡¯t begin to match. She tallied her lacks: Grandmother would have kept a better watch over the vineyard, but for better¡ªno truly, for worse¡ªshe had left the matter in Bessa¡¯s hands, and it cost them their vinedressers and harvest. Naively, foolishly, Bessa had thought she could corner the duke without casualty to anyone else, but Lady Nensela would have known better. She and Ziri had maneuvered matters to keep Brison¡¯s theater group safe, even from Justin Kellis, an Erebossan disguised as a librarian. Whereas with Bessa, an entire fortress was destroyed. Being wiser, Lady Nensela¡ªand Edana, too¡ªprevailed against her folly when she argued to reveal the threat of the Abyssals Five to the theater group. They pointed out she couldn¡¯t convince the Honey Cakes of the danger while posing as a mere playwright, and she couldn¡¯t reveal her true identity without endangering them. In the past week alone she imagined coming to a strange city, in a strange land just as herself, and warn the inhabitants as she¡¯d warned the Silurans. A land where, apparently, there was no love lost between its leader and her emperor, a city where mundane outsiders like herself were not even welcome. And Ziri had known better, as Lysander had, too. Untutored and ignorant, she had no time to fill the gaps in her education. No time at all. Now in Elamis, she and Edana were without a Guide Star. Of the two of them, Bessa would not put faith in her own judgment, nor her plans, and she felt the weight of responsibility as if the entire world and the heavens had been set upon her shoulders. She thought back to the night the giants attacked her vineyard. Of her fear she would be of no use to Edana¡¯s mission, and now, at last¡ªnow at last they would find out. And the stakes were too high. In a small voice Bessa said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°What?¡± Bessa stared at her sandals. ¡°I¡¯m all you¡¯ve got, and it¡¯s not enough. I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°Oh for¡ª!¡± Edana hooked an index finger under Bess¡¯s chin and lifted, forcing Bess to meet her eyes. Her sea green eyes flashed, as when they were children and Edana was outraged about something. ¡°Bessa.¡± It came out harsh, and Bessa¡¯s heart skipped a beat. Edana¡¯s jaw worked for a moment, then her lips thinned and she said, ¡°You were always the kind and gentle one. And now I¡¯ve broken you, haven¡¯t I? There¡¯s blood on your hands now, and it would not be so if I hadn¡¯t brought you with me. You said you didn¡¯t trust decisions made out of fear, and you were right. If I hadn¡¯t¡ª¡± Horror washed over Bessa as Edana¡¯s words sank in. Her blood surged in her veins as she answered, ¡°What? Wait. Broke me? Gentle I am, weak I am not. I sought the duke¡¯s death and rejoiced when I obtained it, and regret neither haunts me nor occurs to me. I would kill anyone who threatened my family, and you are my family. So I came with you. It¡¯s as simple as that.¡± Edana¡¯s gaze did not waver. Taking a deep breath Bessa said, ¡°It is also simple that I am not competent. Not at this. I¡¯ve gotten people killed¡ª¡± ¡°So has the emperor,¡± Edana cut in. ¡°He did not reform the army enough, which allowed Gagnon and Archelaos to bend its weaknesses to their will. So did Ziri, as he sent Star Dragons to their deaths in order to investigate the giants. So did Lysander, because he did not anticipate Archelaos usurping Quarto. Not everyone returns alive from a battle. And Lady Nensela carried the grief of losing her husband and daughter, if you will remember.¡± ¡°But the Salamandra¡ª¡± ¡°Are not infallible, so they are not better than us and there¡¯s no point in comparing ourselves against them. My father¡¯s people would not be surprised; our Scrolls of Truth show over and over that not everyone does as they should when they should. Even those handpicked by the Sower are not flawless and unfailing. Why dash yourself against that rock?¡± Bessa broke free and began to pace, skirting the edge of the lake. The watchman¡¯s warning came back to her and stepped back, in case she should attract the dragon residing in its depths. Why did the Elamisi decide to coexist with the creature? ¡°If I erred at home, Grandmother guided me to find where I went wrong in my reasonings. She could take me off assignments, which never happened because I was determined not to let her down. But what was at stake other than my pride, my reputation, and perhaps her reputation and profits if I tumbled us into quicksand? What¡¯s at stake if I misstep here? Oh right, we get to live in a world of giants and Erebossi who want us all dead. Do you know of any worlds we can run to?¡± ¡°And to whom would you give your assignment?¡± Edana asked. She lowered herself onto the grass and folded her legs, then fanned skirts about her, covering her feet. Bessa gaped at her. ¡°What? I just wondered. You designed a test to help me choose my secretary. What test would you design to find someone who can help me save the world?¡± ¡°I¡­what game is this? Weren¡¯t you listening? Have I not made it plain I would choose Lady Nensela? She¡¯s lost to us, that¡¯s the point. And Ziri¡ª¡± ¡°But they won¡¯t suffice,¡± Edana pointed out. ¡°For they failed your first criteria: they¡¯re fallible. They¡¯ve lost lives. Lady Nensela said she had to learn how to influence people, which implied she failed at least once, at a time when it mattered. So. Who else is there?¡± A coldness washed over Bessa. Her blood slowed as the enormity of Edana¡¯s words sank in. She was at war with herself. Her family flashed before her eyes. Good hunting, my granddaughter. This from Grandfather Pendry, who gave her Sorcha¡¯s Tear because he had confidence in her ability to hunt and destroy their enemies. Would he say differently if he knew what she knew about them? Asking was impossible right now. But in her upbringing he taught her no Pendry ever shirked their duty or ran from a fight. Grandmother Aurelia would agree she had never taught Bess to flinch or shrink from her responsibilities. All of her grandparents carefully brought her up to not only execute her duties, but to excel in executing them, to their exacting and purposeful standards. Their faith in her was not based on their own delusions; she could not disregard it. More also, Lady Nensela had thanked Edana for bringing her in. She had not judged Bessa as useless. So. Bessa walked back to Edana, and sat across from her, matching her position. Edana said, ¡°In the Scrolls of Truth, the Sower often chooses someone to do His bidding. Not because they are perfect. Not because they are all wise, for He doesn¡¯t think we can ever be all wise all the time. He asks that we seek wisdom instead, and He forgives us when we fail in our striving. No, the people He chooses are chosen because they act. When a thing needs doing and He asks someone to do it, they act. When your family was attacked, you acted. When you discovered your whole country was threatened, you acted. When you saw the empire was under threat, you acted. And when you learned the whole of the world in danger, you acted. That is half of the Sower¡¯s criteria right there.¡± ¡°What is the other half?¡± Bessa asked. Edana¡¯s lips quirked. ¡°Keeping faith with Him, of course. If you trust in Him, you will carry out the tasks He asks of you. So it all circles back to the doing. I believe He makes a path for those who do His bidding, but they must dare to do what¡¯s required of them, and trust in Him all the while.¡± Bessa cocked her head, remembering suddenly what Edana had said to her when they¡¯d left the Rhabdomachaeum and Bessa was fretting about the course they were on. Keep to the mission and let everything flow from there. Ah. What she had taken for rote reassurance was in fact Edana¡¯s sincere belief as a devotee of the Sower. Well. Damn. ¡°Where might we find the huntress?¡± ¡°Thank the Sower.¡± Edana let out an exaggerated exhale. ¡°How do you do this pitter-patter of maternal-soothing? It sits unnaturally on me. My dear, I shall leave this role to you from now on.¡± For the first time in what seemed like ages, Bessa laughed. ¡°You have other strengths, my friend.¡± Edana sobered. She brought out one of her Huntress knives and set it between them. ¡°Our fathers were blood bonded. Let us be so now in this.¡± ¡°To what end? Our fathers forged their bond at the dawn of their acquaintance, and built their friendship from there. From birth we have been sisters. That we have different parents is but a trivial detail.¡± ¡°All the same, it weighs on me. I want this for us. Will you do this?¡± Bessa picked up the knife. Before she could lose her nerve, she pressed it into her palm and slashed. Pain lanced through her, from her throbbing hand to her belly, and she clenched her teeth to keep from crying out. She handed the knife to Edana, who followed suit. Wincing, Edana cradled her hand and took shallow breaths. After a moment she held out her hand. Bloodied palm met bloodied palm, and their clasp held tight. Aloud they said, ¡°Let this day bear witness that Elisabet Bessa Philomelos and Edana Shifra Nuriel bind their fates together, in life and in death, that no matter what should come to pass, one will not forsake the other.¡± This time, neither woman held back her tears. Chapter 18: The Handmaiden Chapter XVIII The Handmaiden In which the Handmaiden serves the protector of Elamis ¡°You called, your majesty?¡± Zephyra asked as she approached him. Protector Amavand glanced back to see her, but said nothing until she drew even with him on the bluff overlooking Lake Khatar. The soft breeze rustled his greying hair and made his purple cloak flap against his deep green trousers. His tall, willowy frame looked as if it would be carried off by a stronger breeze, but Zephyra knew appearances were deceiving, for the king of Elamis was strong as a bull. ¡°Zephyra. What is your report?¡± She tamped down her irritation, and pretended to enjoy the scenery instead. Below the cliffs, the same breeze tickling her skin made soft ripples in the violet waters of Lake Khatar. But the protector did not look down at the lake, but further out, beyond the gates of Elamis. Here he stood, ruler of all he surveyed. Reminding her once again his hand was over all she could see for miles and miles beyond the view from atop this towering rock. And the land beyond? Did he think she didn¡¯t know there was a greater power he was obliged to pay tribute to, swear allegiance to? Why was he bent on having her think otherwise? ¡°The same as before,¡± she said calmly, not looking at him. ¡°The spurious sarcophagus is not trapped or ensorcelled to do harm to you. The fools who brought it were nothing more than couriers. Nevertheless, I have duly punished them: they are a repast for the Yellow Serpent.¡± She felt the weight of his gaze on her. With all her might she resisted shivering, reminding herself his expression was devoid of the volcanic rage that terrified her so not three days before. Damn those fools! Damn them to¡ªZephyra let out a subtle exhale. Three days. Three days was surely enough time to burn out the hottest and fiercest of her father¡¯s anger. Surely, surely, Greatest One let it be so! ¡°I have no doubt of that, daughter. You have already given me your assurances on that matter. Other reports confirm as much.¡± Other reports. Like his scryer. His informant. His tale-teller. Gira. An ambitious young scryer who must soon learn the peril of reaching too high above himself. ¡°Of course,¡± she said evenly. ¡°The men died screaming, Father. The Yellow Serpent took his time with them; I give you my word.¡± At last a smile from him. The first since that awful moment three days ago, when he went to the caves beneath the lake. And discovered someone had made sport of him, in a most vicious way: no dryad rested in the sarcophagus allegedly used to transport her. Every sorcerer loyal to the Greatest One insisted no dryad¡¯s aura had ever graced the sarcophagus. From the start of the journey to the finish in the caves, the sarcophagus never carried anything more than honey. Daaaammmn it! And still more she must disappoint her father. At least on the cliffside none of the precious heirlooms were in danger; in the dawn of his rage the protector had seized a six-hundred-year-old bust of an illustrious ancestor and hurled it against the walls. The marble shattered into dust, shards, and jagged edges, alongside Zephyra¡¯s hopes for her father¡¯s survival. Nevertheless, she must break the latest bit of bad news to him. ¡°On the other matter, none has yet arrived who matches the description of the prophecies. Women never travel alone, so to look for pairs only does not work. Only one foreigner has recently come from the Far West, but her caravan includes an Eitanite, and the Eitanim are to our south, Great One.¡± ¡°But the solstice is tomorrow. The prophecies said they would arrive by now. Is it your claim that my prophets were wrong?¡± So silky smooth, his voice. And like the lake below them, it hid the Yellow Serpent¡ªa poisonous dragon¡ªin its depths. ¡°It is my claim that your enemies are subtle, as you well know. Why would they come here in the open, when all know you¡¯re the Great Eye? So, they will not be obvious, they will not be in plain sight, and you must be vigilant, as you must always be vigilant,¡± Zephyra replied. Bold, she met his gaze, but her father¡¯s face held no expression he as he studied her in turn. Of course¡ªhe was Protector of Elamis, and kept his own counsel. Up until recently he never showed his thoughts to anyone until it pleased him to. And it did not please him to reveal himself now. She dared, ¡°Was it not you who taught me not to spend so much time watching the sword openly carried that I missed the dagger carefully hidden? Your majesty.¡± The protector trusted no one these days, not even his own daughter. Especially not his daughter, not when the prophecies claimed women would be the death of him. But I am not mentioned in this prophecy, so why fear me? Of all people to fear, I am the very last. Again he smiled, and almost looked sincere this time. Only when he turned back to the view of the city below did she let out the breath she hadn¡¯t realized she was holding. So this is was the depth they had sunk to. Though she would never speak it aloud, in her heart she had feared he brought her to the cliff to push her into the lake. One less woman. And Gira feeds this insanity. In her mind¡¯s eye, she pictured Gira standing here beside her, and her giving him the shove. He wanted to be the power behind the throne, and she stood in his way. How simple to exploit the prophecy to turn her own father against her? Her father didn¡¯t turn back to face her when he said, ¡°Valentis is still standing.¡± Zephyra¡¯s heart skipped a beat. They¡¯d been waiting and waiting for news, and Gira claimed to have visions of a great series of battles in Rasena Valentis. Her father had capered like a little boy on the night of green fire, saying that the time had come for him to move up his plans. ¡°But, Your Majesty¡ªthe shahanshah¡ª¡± The Eel was supposed to have claimed Rasena Valentis, which would have drawn the attention of Anshan¡¯s high king. With his eyes fixed on a broken enemy, he would not have noticed her father¡¯s actions until it was too late. ¡°Yes¡ªI know.¡± Frustration salted his voice. ¡°Why did the Eel fail? How is that even possible?¡± It made no sense. The Greatest One had allotted six of Her allies strongholds in Rasena Valentis. The Eel could have called on any of them to help him. He shouldn¡¯t have needed to, though; he was the spahpat, the supreme chief of the armies of the Greatest One. ¡°The she-wolves.¡± She-wolf, the designation the Protector used for each of the women prophesied to kill him. ¡°Another set?¡± Zephyra drew back. What chance could her father stand against the Eel¡¯s vanquishers? ¡°Unlikely. Gira informed me three women instigated battle against the Eel. Three. They have defeated the Eel, and now they come for my crown.¡± Stunned, Zephyra mentally reassessed her plans. Which, until now, was simple: locate the she-wolves. Afterwards, make a spectacle of their deaths. But these women had taken down the Ellatu, and the general, too? Was she a match for them? ¡°Father, what are they? How can they take down the general? And the Ellatu? How?¡± Again he smiled, again without mirth. ¡°The legions of Rasena Valentis helped them; they did not do this on their own. And, I am told, their so-called Draco Prime is in their council: yes, the she-wolves were clever enough to bend Tarkhana¡¯s ears to their whispers. I daresay they may do the same to our shahanshah. I wonder that they haven¡¯t approached him already.¡± The she-wolves would ruin too many of their plans if they reached the high king. Already finding them was her first priority, but now she was on the verge of panic. By what means did the she-wolves emerge victorious against the Eel? Such power was not available to the sorcerers, this she knew. Yet her enemies defeated the Greatest One''s general anyway ... Her father eyed her critically, and she suddenly wondered how much of her anxiety she¡¯d revealed. ¡°You have always been an apt pupil, Zephyra¡ª¡± ¡°And you were always a masterful teacher, Father,¡± she said quickly. ¡°I could be instructed by none better.¡± For one fleeting moment his face softened. Then the mask came back. ¡°Daughter,¡± he said, and this time his tone brooked no interruption. ¡°Guard yourself. Those who would murder me would not think to spare you. All here know you as my heart and hand. Perhaps this prophecy is a twisty thing, and I take it too literally to think I am the one threatened. It could be that it¡¯s you who will be slain by these vipers.¡± Surprise stole away her words. Was the prophecy referring to her? No, how could¡ªdid the prophets see her father dead in their visions? Before she could ask, terror stoppered her throat: her father was reaching into his robes and pulling out a long knife. Oh Greatest One, save her! The nightmares that haunted her sleep were now coming to pass: Father was ridding himself of her in his madness. But the knife remained sheathed, and he held it out to her so she could take it by the handle. Creamy white jade, the handle bore a red emblem of an upside down tulip. A flower Zephyra was told grew in the plains she never saw. Fortunately, every spring the splashes of red graced the protector¡¯s garden. Long ago she had taken the flower for her seal. ¡°All that I have trained you to do, all that you are now, is for this day. Unless¡ªunless you are lost, too.¡± Zephyra drew the dagger from its sheath. The blade¡¯s rippling pattern shimmered in the light, typical of watered steel. Inlaid in gold was a scrolling floral pattern of belladonna, wolf¡¯s bane, opium poppy and black hellebore. ¡°Father, it is beautiful.¡± This time, Father¡¯s eyes crinkled when he smiled. ¡°A gift from the Greatest One, my dear. The knife is star metal, or so I am told, as it came from a rock fallen to us from the stars. Keep it close to your heart.¡± ¡°I shall treasure it.¡± She clasped it to her heart and bowed. ¡°Thank you, Your Majesty.¡± The Protector of Elamis startled her by embracing her in a tight hug. ¡°Stay alive, my daughter. This night we are on the eve of the solstice, a perilous time with such a prophecy on our heads.¡± The winter solstice. A dread day when the gates of death were thrown open, and the gates of resurrection were barred shut. Father¡¯s arms were strong around her. Reminding her of all those times she feared no monster in her cabinets or beneath her bed, because he protected her. As ever, she breathed agar wood and musk and olibanum when she inhaled his scent. Losing him would be unbearable. For my protector, my father, I must find those women and slay them.
Wishing did not make it so; however. Goddess be with her, today she would obliterate her biggest obstacle. To do so, she must go Below. A small obstacle in itself; as the protector forbade her to descend from the palace except on his business. In the city below, ¡®Zephyra¡¯ was but a name. Few had set eyes on her. The palace and its walled gardens were her world, and the limits thereof. This limitation would now be her advantage: she need not work too hard to disguise herself. Gira must be dealt with. Failure¡ªher failure¡ªsuited him like silk sandals. To his narrow mind, Zephyra was irrelevant to to the task of finding the protector¡¯s enemies. ¡°This is a scryer¡¯s job,¡± as he often said. As a scryer, he insisted he would see the assassins when they came. Because he was unsubtle, his ambition to step in and play the hero in thwarting them made his strategy obvious, and his tactics predictable. More, now than ever, he made sure Zephyra knew he was watching her every move. The scryer loved to lord it over her that she could not so much as sneeze without him knowing about it. Did you enjoy the gardens? What made you take a walk outside so late last night? Can you not sleep? Should I have a tonic prepared for you? How sweet it would be to feed him to the Yellow Serpent in the lake! To her sorrow he never came near the cliffs; however. Just as well; he was not above pushing her over; this she believed in her heart of hearts. Thank the Greatest One for inspiring her to find a better way to kill him. All this time Gira had used his gifts as a scryer to dog her steps, and it finally occurred to Zephyra to use his strengths to her advantage. First; however, she put on her plainest clothes¡ªa simple sleeved peplos, pale blue with minimal embroidery. Raw leather sandals, not the dyed ones befitting her station. Complete the look with a wicker basket on her arm: the mirror assured her she looked as common as any peasant girl. ¡°My lady?¡± Friya asked, coming into the room. ¡°You sent for me?¡± Both young women were the same age, and grew up together, but Zephyra was a princess and Friya was her handmaiden. And, as the protector and her nursemaid would say, her partner in mischief. ¡°Friya,¡± Zephyra said, crossing the room to meet her. ¡°I need to go out. Wait here for me, and greet the one who will call on you while I¡¯m out.¡± Friya cocked her head, catching her meaning. ¡°And which excuse shall I provide, my lady?¡± ¡°Ask to take a message.¡± There wouldn¡¯t be one, of course. The men would come to snoop, which Friya¡¯s presence made impossible. Of course, Friya might be conveniently called away. In fact, Zephyra was sure of it. Prepared for it, in fact. In an alcove in her bedroom she maintained an altar to the Greatest One. Arrayed on top were flowers, herbs, and oils in little enameled boxes and alabaster bottles. A whiff of jasmine and attar of roses caught her nose as she led Friya over. ¡°If anyone asks, you¡¯re engaged in a ritual and cannot be disturbed.¡± ¡°And the reason you¡¯re not engaged in this ritual?¡± ¡°Because I am hunting for my father¡¯s enemies, and you are praying for my success. Let someone try and interrupt that,¡± Zephyra said, her voice tinged with satisfaction. Every point of attack was accounted for. Friya dipped her head to her, and sat before the altar, taking up the prayer scrolls. ¡°My part will not be feigned, my lady,¡± she said, flashing white teeth. ¡°I will indeed pray for your success.¡± Buoyant, Zephyra strode from the room, and made a point of locking the door behind her. By no means would Gira¡¯s minions knock; forcing them to use underhanded means to enter her chambers would be a brick in her case against them. Much as she would like to, she would not take the portal. The palace portal to the city attracted attention, as it was reserved for the select. A standard trope in the stories she read involved the worthy hero who was pure of heart, and thus obtained the means to go through the portal and stand before the just and noble Protector of Elamis. My heart is pure. Zephyra laughed quietly to herself as she walked through the garden. In her dress she could have been taken for a maidservant, but her walk would give her away. Grace and authority in her strides betrayed that she was no servant. Or so Friya once said. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Attitude; she must attend to her attitude if this was going to work. Hunching her shoulders made her seem a little smaller. After a false start she stepped more deferentially around the groundskeepers, as though she should yield the right of way to them rather than the other way around. The sooner she got into character, the better. Nevertheless, the groundskeepers automatically yielded right of way while avoiding her gaze. At her pace getting to the copse she sought took almost too long for her nerves to handle. But she at last came to it. Pausing, she glanced around. None of Gira¡¯s lackeys were near. They might follow her into the caves, she supposed, and it would suit her fine if they did. Then again, she liked the terms she¡¯d planned much better, and she had to force herself not to hold her head too high in anticipation. Better to focus on what was in front of her: a wall choked with rose vines. Through narrowed eyes she gave the wall a critical once-over. Were sheblindfolded in the dead of night, she could still find her spot without fail. However, right now she was looking for signs of disturbance. Signs that someone had already gone through and would lie in wait for her. So far, nothing was out of place. No footprints in the soil, no disturbance in the arrangement of roses. The Greatest One was with her in this. Gently she kicked an exposed brick at ankle-level in the wall, and at the same time she tapped another brick at shoulder height. Last she pushed in one near her midsection. The wall swung inward, revealing a fiery glow. Glowlights lit her way, and at the pace she descended she reached the cavern before a count to fifty. The cavern was at least ten men tall, and four wagons wide. Enough for two Yellow Serpents, but thank the goddess the beast could not negotiate stairs, which wereto her left. If she wanted to she could go down to the dungeons, but at the moment she had no business there. Taking a sharp right, she entered a tunnel. Per her count of steps she was almost there. At step one hundred and two she stopped and let out a piercing whistle. The wall slid aside, letting first a sliver then an arc of light through. Illuminating an dusty alleyway. Dusty, and abandoned, for the shop it was connected to had gone out of business long ago, and no lease had ever been approved for a new business. Nor would there ever be; Zephyra had decreed it so. Among other decrees, including a curfew obliging everyone to be indoors by nightfall. In the name of the Protector, of course. Likely he¡¯d be angry if he ever found out she¡¯d taken liberties, but by the time he did she should have dealt with his enemies. Every muscle in her body was taut, and her spine rigid until she reached an avenue of shops. The scent of cardamom and fresh bread wafted over to her nose. Good, she¡¯d passed the bakery. Not that she was going to visit, because she never set foot in it. The shop served as her landmark only: a bird should not foul its nest. No one from that neighborhood was to know of her or have any association with her; she could not afford to have anyone get too curious about how she came to be there. On her previous expeditions, she took Artostes, her father¡¯s War Minister with her. Such was his power that no scryer in the world could perceive them. Or so he claimed. But¡ªhow had he come by such power? A favor from the Greatest One? Would she soon have it, too? She glanced up at the sky and sighed. Three hours past noon, and the sun already hung low in the sky. Darkness would come in two hours. Her shoulders heaved. Winter was not her favorite time of year. Death was coming for the protector. ¡°What of my father?¡± This she asked of the Greatest One, when once the goddess came to her in a dream. But the goddess slyly replied, ¡°All will work to the good,¡± ¡°Whose good?¡± Zephyra dared to ask. To the Abyssal Serpent with that ¡®greater good¡¯ nonsense! People only trotted out that notion when they wanted to take from someone else, without their victim complaining. But the Greatest One only smiled upon her, and said nothing more. Zephyra had awakened in a cold sweat. It was first light and she had no hope of going back to sleep with the laughing doves cooing outside her window. Her heart had hurt, with a pain she would not bring herself to name. In the present Zephyra shook herself. Time was passing by, and she must waste none of it. As fast as she could she made her way to the temple district. Her stepping through the doors of Truthsayer¡¯s Fane would be an irresistible provocation for Gira. Inside the temple the white robed priests directed her to the private grotto it was built around. Lovely and serene, the grotto commonly served as a place to contemplate the question of truth. Bah! What fools these people were, too think their so-called Truthsayer possessed any connection to the truth. Soon. Soon enough they would learn. She folded her legs, closed her eyes, and pretended to meditate. Gira did not keep her waiting. ¡°Isn¡¯t this a sacrilege for you, O Favored One of the Greatest One?¡± Laughter in his oily voice told her she was halfway to her goal. Silent and still, Zephyra waited. The tap of his fancy silk shoes against the floor told her that Gira circled her. Still she kept her eyes closed as she listened to his prattle. By the gloating in his tone he thought he¡¯d caught her out at last. ¡°Let me guess¡ªwhat will you say when your father finds out? Surely you won¡¯t claim to hunt his assassins here of all places? Hmmm? Or could it be that our O-So-Favored-One is not quite so devoted to her goddess as she claims?¡± When his footsteps indicated he now stood in front her, Zephyra opened one eye. As a royal scryer Gira wore fine silk clothes, dark blue with silver brocade patterned with sunbursts between crescent moons. Oiled hair. Perfumed with amber. Oh yes, of course, because the symbols of Sorcha the Everbright weren¡¯t enough to announce his status as scryer. No, he must liberally douse himself with amber to boot. Unlike Gira, Zephyra refrained from gloating; however. Though Gira stepped into her trap as she planned, she couldn¡¯t bring herself to feel triumphant. This was too easy, and she was used to having to make plans and counter plans and backtracking to retrieve reversals. Nothing that came so easily could be trusted. So. ¡°What ruler gave you leave to remove yourself from the palace, Gira?¡± Gira¡¯s easy smile told her he had arranged an alibi that would be proof against her tattling. Merriment glittered in his dark eyes as he said, ¡°You need to be watched over, of course. Nothing must happen to the Favored One. Perhaps she has been led astray, by false teachings. Could that be so, Zephyra?¡± Anger rippled through her, but she checked herself from showing it. This servant dared to use her name, as though he were on equal terms with her? From whence came his foolish arrogance? Sloppiness, overconfidence? Or¡ªdid he have information she did not? ¡°My faith is with the Greatest One,¡± she said. ¡°Shall I prove it to you, Gira? Will you hear my testimony? Shall I make to you my declaration of faith in the Greatest One?¡± Something in her voice caught Gira¡¯s attention, and his smile faltered. ¡°What did you intend, Gira, in seeking me here?¡± Zephyra whispered. ¡°If the protector should ask, what will you tell him?¡± Gira swallowed, but stood his ground. As expected¡ªhe would never want it to seem that she held the whip hand. ¡°Just as I said a moment ago. You must be watched over.¡± ¡°Or spied upon?¡± She looked up through her lashes. Keeping her eyes on his face, she placed her hands over his heart. ¡°Watched over,¡± Gira insisted. ¡°Ahem.¡± His cheeks reddened. Of course. ¡°Oh? You can be spared from the palace?¡± She traced a finger over the crisp woolen tunic he wore. ¡°You can leave your post at the protector¡¯s scrying pool? On this evening, with the prophecy hanging over his head? What if his enemies are sneaking up on him right now? Will they take him unawares? The prophecy said¡ª¡± ¡°That three women will kill him. Women you have unquestionably failed to find.¡± The oily smile was back again, but his voice held an edge of uncertainty. Doubtless, he wondered if she were trying to seduce him. His confusion was to her benefit. Nothing he said was of consequence. Time now to end this. For the record, the truth-seers¡¯ and the historians¡¯, she would say what she had come here to say. ¡°You have abandoned your post, scryer, on the eve of the night when the king will need you most. You are derelict in your duty. Your laxness will not be tolerated. You have betrayed your Protector. Upasasu.¡± With her hand flat over his heart, she felt before she saw the life go out of him. Not once did his expression change; death claimed him too quickly for that. Just in time she spun on her toes, letting his body thud face-down on the stone floor of the grotto. She looked. No witnesses, unless one counted the serene face of Arenavachi the so-called Truthsayer. The false goddess whose image dominated the reliefs decorating the walls of the grotto. But Zephyra would never count Her. Assured of privacy, she dropped to her knees before Gira¡¯s body, and took her long knife out of her basket. How fortuitous for Father to gift her the knife, and how fortuitous she could blood it early for his sake. Gira¡¯s blood flowed into the crystal vial she brought for the purpose. When she took her fill, she brought from her basket a specially prepared poultice. She slapped it against the cut she¡¯d made in Gira¡¯s flank, stopping the trickle of blood. Though a few droplets had spilled onto his under-tunic, he still wore three more layers of robes that should conceal his wound. But first, Zephyra tore a strip off Gira¡¯s under-tunic and used it to clean her knife before sheathing it again. Then she fastened shut his overgarments. Last of all she snatched his medallion from around his neck. The golden disc bore the seal of a royal scryer, which would necessarily prompt the temple keepers to give top priority to summoning echomancers. As it was, the otherwise peaceful condition of his body would give them no reason to suspect murder right away. The sun was sinking when she stepped out of the temple. Shivering, she tied her shawl around her shoulders. Night approached. In her mind¡¯s eye she pictured the fire her slaves would have lit for her, in preparation for her return. Once warmed, she would meditate in truth. After the ritual. Anticipation made her feet carry her faster on the way back home than they did on the way to the temple. ¡°My lady, you were right,¡± Friya breathlessly reported as soon as she returned. ¡°Guests came for you. I had them escorted away, for daring to break into your room.¡± Zephyra¡¯s heart leapt in triumph. ¡°Excellent, Friya. Does the protector know?¡± Friya grinned widely. ¡°And he wishes to see you. Gira¡¯s men tried a story on him, and I suppose you will need to have their tongues removed?¡± ¡°What story?¡± she asked, eyebrow raised. ¡°That you were breaking your father¡¯s laws and worshipping in the temple of Arenavachi.¡± Zephyra laughed, all the way to her altar in an alcove in her room. Good girl, Friya had mixed all the ingredients according to the prayer scroll¡¯s instructions. All ingredients, but one. Into the bowl Zephyra poured the vial of Gira¡¯s blood. This, under the watchful gaze of a marble bust of the Greatest One. Seeing the bust, Zephyra felt a familiar pang. The bust was what artists called ¡°chryselephantine¡±¡ª ivory and gold. Arenavachi, Khratu, and the other False Ones were often beautifully constructed this way, with the gold used for their crowns and gowns. Gifted artists wrought majestic depictions of the so-called Truthsayer as a classic beauty with a delicate mouth, almond-shaped eyes, and a heart-shaped face. But the Greatest One ¡­ sigh ¡­ a narrow plane of ivory, with a slit for a mouth and a slight ridge where the cheekbones were supposed to be. Crude sockets held colorless adamant stones stuck in them. So primitive! So unworthy of the true goddess! ¡°I will honor you with a colossus to put the Teller of Lies in the shade,¡± Zephyra vowed. ¡°Know now that I have done your will in this hour. In the hall of truth I slew the betrayer. Your disciple entreats you now for a vision of her enemies. Show me the ones who would slay my father, the sovereign who serves You faithfully.¡± Dull adamant became blinding red, but Zephyra did not avert her eyes. It was not strength of will, but rather paralysis as the goddess came upon her and overtook her. Faces floated before her, vivid and stark as though the women were standing in front of her right this minute. Were it not for the goddess binding her arms at her sides she would have reached out and struck them. Just when she thought she couldn¡¯t take it anymore, the goddess released her, sending Zephyra collapsing to her knees again. Weak, trembling, she clutched the edge of the altar. Friya rushed over and put an arm around Zephyra¡¯s back. ¡°My lady? Are you all right?¡± Sweet Friya was always uncomfortable with these visions, and their effect on Zephyra. Even Father never cosseted her so, and for this reason Zephyra made the effort to reassure Friya. But first she took several deep breaths. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she said, patting Friya¡¯s arm. ¡°Let the protector know I will come to him as soon as I am on my feet again.¡± ¡°My lady?¡± Zephyra smiled triumphantly. ¡°I have them, Friya. Tell the protector I know now who his enemies are.¡±
An uproar raged in the palace, just as she expected. His Majesty called Gira to his chambers, and Gira¡¯s failure to appear obliged the satrap to send for his guards to search for him. As for Protector Amavand, his personal guards flanked him at every step he took, for the prophecy weighed on them, Zephyra knew. The satrap threw himself into his throne, his posture less than regal. Vacant, unfocused eyes as he surveyed the room told her he wasn¡¯t seeing anything his eyes alighted upon. Serene, head held high, Zephyra stepped into this maelstrom. Winter-weight silk flowed from her hips and swished about her ankles as she walked. Night black, with belladonnas and opium poppies embroidered in gold about her hem and sleeves, the gown was her priestly regalia. The colors, and flowers of the Greatest One. The glittering gold diadem crowning her head repeated the theme, except amethysts represented the belladonnas and red carnelians stood in for the poppies. The guards parted for her as she strode forward. In a loud, clear voice Zephyra said, ¡°Your Majesty, your servant has come at your call.¡± The lord and master of Elamis narrowed his eyes when he saw her. He sat straighter in his throne, his glassy-eyed look vanishing. ¡°Come here,¡± he commanded. Zephyra obeyed, kneeling before him with her eyes cast down. ¡°You were not found in the palace when I sent for you, Zephyra.¡± A statement. Because he rarely asked her questions. He made statements, and let them linger, waiting for her to hang herself by them. How she used to tremble when she heard that tone. But she was younger then. ¡°It is as you said, my protector.¡± She still hadn¡¯t lifted her head. In this position he could cleave it from her shoulders. Or have it done; she idly wondered if he would do it himself if he ever felt moved to have her killed. ¡°I will hear an accounting from you.¡± With her head still down, Zephyra said, ¡°The Greatest One came to me in a dream, Your Majesty, and gave me Her promise: this prophecy against you will work for good.¡± A long pause. Protector Amavand¡¯s eyes burned on her neck. ¡°Did She?¡± Zephyra drew a prayer scroll from the bodice of her chiton, but kept her eyes fastened on the protector¡¯s boots as she held it out for him. For his sake, she had written it herself in gold ink. Ten heartbeats passed before he took the scroll. The rustling of parchment told her he had unfurled it. ¡°What is this? What is this about? A Hall of Truth?¡± ¡°Indeed, Your Majesty. I was to slay the one who would betray you in the hall of truth. I ask forgiveness Your Majesty, for taking so long to complete this task. I did not consider what might be meant by that phrase.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Allowing a smile to creep into her voice, Zephyra answered, ¡°The temple of one of the False Ones is called The Hall of Truth. Before sunset I went there, to wait for your enemy, and he appeared.¡± ¡°He?¡±Protector Amavand¡¯s boots shifted. Was he on the verge of leaping from his throne? Conscious of the drama she was staging, Zephyra kept her head down. But curiosity got the better of her; thus she raised her eyes to check his reaction. Both palms gripped his armrests, as though he was about to launch himself from his throne. Of course; he had not looked for any men amongst his enemies. With the prophecy fixed so firmly in his mind, why should he? But she was not finished astonishing him. ¡°Lord Gira came to me in the temple of a False One, my Protector. There I slew him. Ask your seers if this is not so.¡± Murmuring filled her ears. From the guards and the courtiers both. ¡°Look at me,¡± Protector Amavand demanded, and at last Zephyra raised her head to meet his gaze. He took her face in one strong hand and pulled her towards him. His nostrils flared as he looked her over with a critical eye, staring long at her before he spoke again. ¡°Daughter,¡± he began. ¡°Is it your claim that you slew my chief scryer? Without my leave?¡± Effectively she had confessed to treason. By his own laws he was obliged to take a sword to her neck. Do this he must, for it must never be said the protector was not a man of his own laws. Ah, what a difficult position she had put him in! Would he want a way out? Or had Gira poisoned him so thoroughly against her that he would seize an excuse to kill her and avert the prophecy? ¡°I had the leave of the Greatest One,¡± she replied. Father, there is your place: Below the shahanshah second, and the Greatest One first. And he could not counter the orders of their goddess. Nor punish Zephyra for following them. ¡°The Greatest One,¡± Protector Amavand said, licking his lips. He glanced past her, at the courtiers gathered before his throne. Checking their reaction? ¡°Will you hear Her response to my obedience, my protector?¡± ¡°I will hear it, daughter.¡± His tone hardened. ¡°¡®Seek you first a Ta-Setian huntress who has come from the East,¡¯¡± Zephyra quoted. ¡°Such a one entered our gates one week previous to this night, and dwells at the inn known as the Wolf & Raven. ¡®Seek you also on the night of the solstice two women who entered our gates this day.¡¯ Capture and kill them on the night of the solstice, when they join the festivities in Ember Square.¡± The protector¡¯s breath caught. A tomblike silence settled over the room.Zephyra¡¯s eyes did not waver from her father¡¯s. Nor did she exhale her relief when his fingers slackened on her jaw. Rather than shrink back like a peasant she remained on her knees, straightening her spine. Regal and deferential at once. Yes, she was the handmaiden of a higher authority than he, but she would submit herself to him all the same. Hmm¡ªperhaps this was why he kept insisting on reminding her of his temporal power. If she did not believe she answered to him, his legitimacy as ruler of Elamis could be thrown into question if she dared to challenge him. I would do no such thing, Father. But would he believe that? He kept testing her, and she met every test, but it never seemed enough anymore. Once the evil she-wolves were dead, things could go back to what they were. In a steady voice Protector Amavand asked, ¡°In what way did Lord Gira betray me, Daughter?¡± ¡°He abandoned his post to spy upon me, Your Majesty. On this night, before we knew who your enemies were or where they might be found, he abandoned his post. Long had he circled me,¡± Zephyra said. She told him of Gira repeatedly taunting her with his knowledge of her comings and goings. ¡°And so I believed, Your Majesty, that he would see in his scrying pool the ritual Friya carried out on the orders of the Greatest One. But he sent his men to disrupt the ritual meant to assist me in seeking out the vipers who threaten you. They stole into my chambers, disregarding the very lock I set upon the doors. And Gira himself followed me to the temple of the False One.¡± From the corner of her eye, she noted Murad staring at her. Amongst the scryers in the palace he was second in rank to Gira. Where his loyalties lay she knew not, but for the moment it didn¡¯t matter: spying on her would not go unpunished, and this he must know. Foolish Gira had deceived himself into thinking that his scrying would leash her, and not once did it occur to him that she could take hold of that leash to bring him to heel. Protector Amavand¡¯s gaze slid to Murad. ¡°Did you know of this, Lord Murad?¡± Murad stuttered through several words before he rallied and said, ¡°Your Majesty, I was never high in Lord Gira¡¯s councils. Had I known, I would have presented evidence of his treachery to you,¡± he insisted. He glanced at Zephyra, and seeing her cool stare, hastened to add, ¡°And I would have warned you as well, my lady.¡± The lines softened in the protector¡¯s face. He turned back to face Zephyra, and his expression softened further to paternal concern. ¡°The men Lord Gira sent to disrupt your ritual are in the dungeons as we speak, Zephyra. Will the Greatest One want an offering?¡± Conciliatory. Zephyra could not help a small smile in response. Once more she was His Majesty¡¯s Heart and Hand. With Gira gone and his enemies soon to be dead there would be no one else who could turn him against her. ¡°We will save them, Your Majesty, for the hour that serves the Greatest One best.¡± Chapter 19: The Corpse in the Hall of Truth Chapter XIX The Corpse in the Hall of Truth In which Alia prepares for battle Alia tossed and turned all night, but when the sunlight hit her window she bolted upright in her bed. She said her dawn prayer to the Huntress, then went down to take her breakfast. She sat with the other travelers, but barely heard a word they said. Over and over in her mind she reviewed what she had seen through Tregarde¡¯s little leafbird. She had passed the device on to Sheridan, so she could see through its eyes the meeting Zenon¡¯s men arranged to drop off the sarcophagus. Greed. This vice, this deficiency in Zenon¡¯s men proved to be Sheridan¡¯s salvation. Because Zenon¡¯s porters were greedy, and jealously guarded their status as his servants, they did everything in their power to cut Sheridan out of the expected bounty they were to receive from ¡°the Eye.¡± Upon arrival in Elamis they insisted he remain behind in their inn while they went to make the delivery. A possibility Alia was prepared for, by passing the leafbird onto Sheridan. The mechanical bird followed Zenon¡¯s porters all the way to a secret cavern in the mountain surrounding Elamis. What she witnessed turned her stomach. Were it not for the porters¡¯ greed, Sheridan might have shared in their grisly fate. And at her command no less. For the porters she spared no pity; they were all too eager to do harm to the dryads. And their meeting yielded the boon of undeniable proof of the identity of ¡°the Eye¡± mentioned in the letter of marque. How was she to destroy this man? One by one she explored and rejected possibilities. Nothing she came up with allowed her to strike effectively against him. ¡°Are you going to the festival?¡± a traveler sitting beside her in the dining room at the inn asked her this. ¡°Festival?¡± ¡°For the solstice, of course. You should see it ¡­¡± the traveler went on and on, and Alia initially tuned her out, until she caught two words: the Protector. The Protector would preside over the festival. An idea took shape in her mind. First: consecrate her own killing ground. Any place Alia stood was a battleground, which meant she must protect the Wolf & Raven, the inn where she was staying. On her way outside she caught Sheridan¡¯s eye, but said nothing, lest it turn out someone was watching him. The sun had risen fully then. The coolness of the air woke her up entirely, driving the last vestige of sleep from her. With a shiver Alia fastened her coat, turning her back to the wind. The tea, and rice porridge, still warmed her from the inside out, but the warmth would fade quickly if she didn¡¯t get moving. She turned now to face the city, taking it in for the first time. The inn sat back from a rise in the road that brought travelers from the first tier to the second tier of the city. Grey, gold, and white dominated the colors of the buildings, according to whether they were faced with marble or naked stone. Golden sandstone gave the Wolf & Raven a sunny aspect, as well as a sturdy frame for its two stories. Accents of chrysoprase green enhanced its charm. Flower boxes hung outside the street-facing windows, the panes of which were tinted pale green. Each flower box boasted violet-green hellebores alongside yellow winter jasmine. A touch of home, eliciting a wistful sigh from Alia. The inn looked so cozy a place to stay. Her enemies would not hesitate to re-purpose it as a slaughterhouse. Alia looked up, and around. In the skyline, the white obelisk of Aletheia¡¯s fane reigned over all. Nothing in the city matched its height. Save for the citadel. The Eye. Inhabitants of the citadel could look upon the city and see everyone scurrying to and fro. No one approaching the citadel¡¯s portal would do so unobserved. Doubtless, scryers lived within the citadel. Scryers who could look in their pools and mirrors to see what happened inside the homes below them. Sheridan and Tregarde interrupted Alia¡¯s reverie, falling into step beside her. ¡°Something more has happened,¡± Tregarde reported. ¡°If you haven¡¯t heard about it yet, you will soon enough. Someone murdered a man in Aletheia¡¯s Fane. Could be a coincidence, except I hear he was an official scryer. Maybe your trick with the sarcophagus has ensnared more birds than you thought.¡± They huddled in a copse of trees on the side of the road, away from casual listeners. Close enough to the lake to hear its waves lap the shore. Obscured as the lake was by the mist, Alia caught a glimpse of the height rising from it, and the palace which crowned that height. ¡°Perhaps. But the protector is our main priority. Our enemy may suppose himself untouchably high, but we cannot entertain such illusion for ourselves. We better secure the inn,¡± Alia said. Tonight was the winter solstice. The one night a year when Erebossa¡¯s forces would wax strongest. Denizens of that shadowy realm would undoubtedly make themselves available to the wicked satrap ruling Elamis. By no means would she let him catch her unprepared. It was the work of an hour for Alia and Sheridan to set up a ward over the inn and its immediate surroundings. It took another hour to test and refine it before they were sure they could safely leave long enough to carry out vital errands. Alia insisted she would not sit and wait for Erebossa¡¯s agents to make the first move. ¡°Let us prepare a killing ground for them. Someplace where no innocents will be caught between us and our enemies. she wished to trap them, in a place of her own choosing.¡± Setting up a divine trap required them to gather certain ingredients, and they spent their morning accordingly. They separated an hour past noon. Night would come early, too early for her liking. She had too much to do and too little time to do it in. ¡°Spare no effort,¡± Alia told Sheridan before he left to carry out her orders. Tregarde remained with her; she would need his help for this next part. Thanks to his previous scouting, she already knew what shop to visit. Threading her way through crowds of last-minute shoppers, she hurried to finish her last minute shopping. ¡°The man murdered in Aletheia¡¯s temple¡ªmaybe he was innocent, maybe he wasn¡¯t, but I¡¯m willing to wager the place of his execution is no coincidence,¡± Alia said, stepping adroitly around a pair of men haggling with a rug merchant. ¡°As a sorcerer, tell me what one would gain by desecrating a holy place.¡± Tregarde¡¯s sharp intake of breath made her halt her steps. His jaw worked, and his expression darkened. ¡°Shadow magic is not my specialty, huntress.¡± ¡°Did I offend you, sorcerer? Make your best guess then.¡± For a moment she thought he would not answer, but impatience drove her to continue making her way to the shop she sought. From behind her Tregarde said, ¡°Desecrating a sacred place is a way to open doors to Erebossa. For one thing, the spirit of the murder victim may be anchored there. And certain abyssals require their petitioners to corrupt sacred places or items. Best guess is this serves two purposes: cutting off the petitioner from divine aid, and allowing the abyssal to further its own goals.¡± Trying to imagine the goals an abyssal might have only made Alia shudder. What might be an abstraction on any other day would likely become all too real, all too soon. At last she came to the shop. A man looked up from the counter where he was pouring over some scrolls. ¡°Good afternoon to you,¡± the shopkeeper greeted. Alia returned the greeting and said, ¡°I was told your apothecary was my best option, that you keep prime stock here.¡± The shopkeeper laughed, and looked over the list she handed him. ¡°I shall not disappoint. Dried acacia, and almond oil? We have those in stock here.¡± Neither the acacia nor the almonds were in season. Almond trees did not blossom until after the winter solstice, and the acacias would not return until spring. For her plan Alia needed two evergreens for every one plant that died in autumn or winter. As well, she needed winter plants that died or went dormant in spring or summer. ¡°And the blackthorn berries, and hellebore buds?¡± ¡°Yes, those as well,¡± the shopkeeper assured her. Ingredients in hand, they moved on. Alia headed for the temple of Aletheia. Tregarde took the lead here; Alia was still clinging to the idea that her cover might hold. The archpriest kept looking at Alia as he walked them to the grotto. He eyed her as though he thought he might have seen her before. She frankly returned his stares, but he shook himself and focused on Tregarde instead. ¡°Nothing like this has ever happened before,¡± he was saying. ¡°The echomancers say she¡ªthe killer¡ªcame here alone, and began to meditate in the grotto. Then a man showed up. Perhaps he was her master; he was dressed in finery.¡± ¡°Her master?¡± Alia asked, startled. The Lyrcanians did not keep slaves. After the Third Cataclysm, when the Gate to Pelasgos was destroyed, the Lyrcanians threw away many of the Pelasgian ways. They had to rely on each other, against the rapacious forces of Xia, and master and slave could not afford to be divided. Reveling in their independence, the Lyrcanians did everything in their power to deny a foothold for the Pelasgians to reassert control over them, should they return. To that end, the Lyrcanians made a law granting freedom to any slave who made it onto Lyrcanian soil. Anyone attempting to keep their slave could be imprisoned for it. A barbed arrow pointed at Pelasgians, Anshani, and now Rasena Valentians. One meant to discourage members of these kingdoms and empires from visiting Lyrcania in the first place. Any citizen of those lands who came to Lyrcania were obliged to swear an oath that they would leave those ways behind, and assimilate. The archpriest eyed her warily. They¡¯d stopped before the door of the grotto, which was roped off. A sign next to it proclaimed the area was closed to visitors. ¡°Indeed her master, young miss. However, if she was his slave, then perhaps he was unwise. A resentful and resourceful slave may find a way around a geis. Especially if the master is abusive. Though, the young woman did not look abused. And the echomancers believe both the victim and his murderer were connected to our protector in some way.¡± He waved his hand over the door. Light shimmered, the door swung open, and the rope fell away. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! He ushered them through, then followed them in. Alia looked around. No sign of any disturbance. The minty scent of hyssop pervaded her nose, indicating the priests must have purified the temple. Not a trace of blood remained, and the body had been moved. Frustration welled inside her, then she pushed it back as an idea came to her. ¡°Why do you think they were connected to the protector?¡± Tregarde asked. The archpriest repeated the conversation, as heard by the echomancers. ¡°Of course, the protector has nothing to do with this. Undoubtedly the man was¡ª¡± ¡°What is this prophecy?¡± Alia demanded. Her stomach roiled. Hypothetically, a prophecy revolving around three women would exclude her. But since when were prophecies straightforward affairs? The archpriest shrugged helplessly. ¡°There is no knowing that.¡± Still. Someone connected to the protector was looking for three women out to destroy him, and Alia at least was one woman with precisely that goal. Profound dread took residence in the pit of her stomach. The cover identity she had cultivated for herself was likely a figment of her imagination at this point; any prophet may have seen her in a vision. Alia took out her Ellura Aura Detector from her satchel and handed it to Tregarde. While he worked, she hung back, her arms folded. In turn the priest watched them, openly curious, but saying nothing. When the clicks ceased, Tregarde nodded. The leafbird collected auras, too. Including the aura of the woman who fed Zenon¡¯s men to a horrific multi-headed dragon. ¡°It¡¯s her,¡± he confirmed in low tones. Yes, of course. The back of Alia¡¯s neck prickled. For all her efforts to set a trap, she felt as if she were caught in the coils of a python. Her breath caught in her throat. With effort, she managed to force herself to stay calm. ¡°Let us see the body,¡± Alia said. ¡°And if you have a likeness of the killer, show us that as well.¡± The archpriest cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing, leading them instead to a small room. Funerary preparations had not yet begun, obvious from the fact the victim still wore his own clothes. Someone¡ªhis killer?¡ªhad torn a strip off along the hem of his once-fine tunic. Blood stained the tunic¡¯s left side, the only hint of violence. From the bier where he lay, the man stared sightlessly up at them. Not wide-eyed in surprise; his eyes were simply open. Alia glanced at the archpriest, and he answered her unspoken question. ¡°He and his killer were just talking. The echomancers say she touched his heart through his tunic, and suddenly he died. No wait¡ªfirst she said a spell. The Restorites say it was a spell of negation. She wished him to cease existing, and he did so.¡± At this Tregarde cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Neat trick, that.¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± the archpriest said dryly. Alia¡¯s fingers twitched, hovering over her satchel where she kept her iron stylus. If she could just get a blood sample ¡­ but not while the priest was in the room. However, she sensed he suspected her for some reason, so whatever she did would arouse suspicion. He would be sure to ask the echomancers or scryers to check on her activities. And, well, her cover didn¡¯t really exist anymore, if it ever truly had. ¡°Guileless One,¡± she began, ¡°Did you notice the tool my friend used? It detects auras. What if I told you the woman who murdered this man is also responsible for abducting dryads?¡± The archpriest paled. He clapped his hands together and touched the tip of his index fingers to his lips. After a moment he whispered, ¡°So this was no singular act of depravity. We wondered what the time was coming to when a man could be struck down in a temple.¡± His eyes hardened as he stared at her. Though she was not surprised, she was profoundly irritated when he said ¡°You must leave this matter alone. We cannot have¡ª¡± Alia sighed impatiently, and he broke off, blinking in surprise. Did she have to pull rank? Or would he live up to the tenets of his goddess? ¡°What we have here is a question of truth, Guileless One. I don¡¯t care about your politics. You don¡¯t want toes stomped on, and you want to keep your head attached. Or perhaps you are selfless and you¡¯re concerned about other people¡¯s heads. Outsiders are on your list of people not to trust. Et cetera, et cetera.¡± She reached into her bodice and pulled out her amulet. If he persisted in being stubborn she¡¯d pull out her moonbow steel knives, but she hoped for his sake the amulet would suffice. ¡°Here,¡± she said, pressing it into his hand. ¡°If you are not a false priest of your goddess, then you have the power to detect who I am and why I¡¯m here. Let us save time, and show yourself worthy of the Truthsayer.¡± He gaped at her. Tregarde leaned back against the bier where the body lay, his gaze bouncing from Alia to the archpriest. ¡°Huntress, you don¡¯t understand¡ª¡± Alia¡¯s lips thinned. What, Huntress help her, what magic words would make people lay aside their trifles and cooperate? What did it take?! True, an agent of a temporal power presented an immediate threat, more so than an agent of a divine power like herself. But she hadn¡¯t come to make threats. She exhaled, visibly trying to relax. With a cold smile and a tone of studied politeness she replied, ¡°Let us start again: does the amulet falsify what I have said, or verify it?¡± The archpriest tore his gaze from her with obvious reluctance. He clasped the amulet between his palms, closing his eyes. After a moment, he gasped. ¡°By the gods,¡± he whispered. He opened his eyes and handed the amulet back to Alia. ¡°Someone is using us, I think. But before we go further, I must have your word¡ªyour word, huntress.¡± Alia held up a hand. ¡°I swear by the Huntress I will not betray you.¡± She added, ¡°And I will have the same vow of you, in the name of the Truthsayer.¡± He held up his hand likewise, and made his vow in the name of Aletheia. He stepped past her, to the body. ¡°Formidable and insidious lies are woven all through this matter,¡± he began. ¡°We know not the shape of things. What we know is that any word uttered by our protector lacks the ring of truth.¡± Tregarde shook his head slightly, but held his tongue. Alia suspected he was holding back a cynical remark about politicians. Their lips were moving, ergo they were lying. But in this instance it would have been a stupid thing to say. ¡°Can you elaborate?¡± Alia asked. ¡°Take this curfew. We must all get to our homes before nightfall, lest the Watchmen arrest us. And for what purpose? Our safety, they say. The Watchmen say this, but they believe it not. Consider also the relations between us Truthseers and Protector Amavand. In times past, we sat high in the councils of the Protectors who ruled this city. Captains and generals relied upon us Truthsayers. In the past year or so, relations have¡­cooled, you might say.¡± ¡°These decrees, can you sense what the officials really meant, what they really believed when they spoke?¡± Alia wondered. If so, the protector would logically need to hold Aletheia¡¯s priests and seers at bay. The archpriest¡¯s nostrils flared. He turned back from the body to face her again, his hazel eyes going cold. ¡°Our protector has been corrupted. Where once his duty was to care for his people, and protect them, he has now forsaken that duty and sought to deceive us instead. Dark forces are at work here; we all of us sense it. But beyond that¡ªbeyond that, I cannot say.¡± Alia and Tregarde exchanged a glance. ¡°Be on your guard, Guileless,¡± she said. ¡°I hunt a queen of Erebossa. Desecrating your temple may be her first volley against you, but if I understand anything about the Anshani, I don¡¯t think this will be the last.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°The reverence for truth amongst the Anshani is legendary even in Lyrcania,¡± she said. ¡°Think of this temple as a stronghold, and this queen and her minions are invaders who have burrowed tunnels beneath. This murder may not be the sum total of her offenses against you. If it pleases you, I would like to do a test.¡± ¡°By all means!¡± No one reported an infernal spirit arising from the corpse. More, the corpse itself had not succumbed to a grotesque decay. Hopeful signs, then, the victim had not been corrupted by the ichor of the abyssal queen. But in this matter, hope would not suffice, only certainty would do. Alia took out her reagents from her satchel and followed the instructions Aric had given her. ¡°Ah, he¡¯s clean. No infernal corruption in him.¡± The archpriest looked on in fascination as she explained to him the point of the test. Next she took out the blood codex. Given what she knew of Junius, and what Sheridan told her of Aristarchus, Alia supposed the ichor would be reserved only for the select few in the Lords of Chaos or the Brotherhood of the Jackal. The inner circle. But that didn¡¯t mean the victim didn¡¯t have connections. The archpriest¡¯s eyebrows flew up when he saw the blood codex, but he said nothing. Alia showed him the names written in it thus far. ¡°Disgusting business.¡± The archpriest wrinkled his nose. ¡°To think so many people let an abyssal defile their own bodies!¡± ¡°Makes you wonder what the world is coming to, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Tregarde said. Without the man¡¯s name, Alia was at a disadvantage. The echomancers only saw his life from the point where he entered the grotto. And further investigation was not likely, as priests of Aletheia no longer enjoyed right of entry to the protector¡¯s palace. Nevertheless, Alia risked writing unknown in the codex. Lines of names spread forth; none shared commonality with the other names in the codex. But they did share commonality with each other, enough to make her believe she was looking at a family tree. The archpriest recognized one of the names. ¡°Some of these names make me think of an old noble family here. They name their firstborn sons Gira. We will provide you with a likeness of the dead man; if you will be discreet in your inquiries.¡± Alia readily agreed. The family would either close ranks against her, or make themselves useful. But even if she survived the solstice, she didn¡¯t intend to ask too much of them. The murdered man¡¯s family was not her prey; if she could help it she would not draw innocent people into matters where Erebossi were concerned. Somehow, she would have to come up with a story; something that would allow her to speak to them but would keep them from going to the protector. The archpriest armed her with scrolls containing drawings of the victim and the murderer, with firm instructions not to open the scrolls until they were well away from the temple. ¡°Whatever eyes may be upon us, none can know that we gave you this,¡± the archpriest insisted. Sheer compassion made Alia wait until she left the temple district to open the scrolls. Instead she went some ways into the park, coming to a stop at a bench by the lake. To Tregarde she handed the scroll with the victim¡¯s likeness, while she examined the one with the killer¡¯s. ¡°An excellent likeness,¡± Tregarde judged. ¡°His family will believe he¡¯s the corpse in the Hall of Truth when we break the news to them.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Alia absently replied. She recognized the murderer¡¯s expression. The arrogance, the contempt, oh she knew that look well. The daughters of the archons wore it, too, back in Ebon Cove: the icy hauteur of one who saw everyone around her as either a servant or beneath her notice. Such people made Alia¡¯s blood run cold, for she was never sure they recognized that other people were in fact, people. Shame and guilt flooded Alia whenever her ignorance of customs inadvertently hurt someone¡¯s feelings. But to not care about hurting other people at all? How was that possible? This ¡°Zephyra,¡± as Zenon¡¯s doomed porters addressed her, knew she was untouchable. And she did not scruple against murder. The men also referred to her as ¡°the handmaiden. A handmaiden to Protector Amavand, and likely, the Erebossan queen. Still worse, Alia saw in her a counterpart, when she considered the lengths she herself would go to in order to protect the dryads and the people of Ebon Cove. Zephyra applied similar ruthlessness in the service of Erebossa. Alia shuddered. ¡°She has cold eyes,¡± Tregarde said, misinterpreting Alia¡¯s shudder. ¡°Tregarde¡ªI must kill her. Negotiation is not an option. This vile woman belongs to the so-called queen and will not betray her, no matter what we say. So either we kill her, or accept that she will do worse than she has already done now.¡± Tregarde straightened the collar on his duster and folded his arms. ¡°I¡¯m not keen on crossing paths with her myself, but let¡¯s think about the situation here: we¡¯re in a strange land with laws against strangers. This girl, this handmaiden, is high up here. Let¡¯s say we kill her. What¡¯s our exit route? Or do we die doing this? Because I thought we had plans beyond her?¡± Alia took a deep breath. Ah. The girl¡¯s temporal authority versus the divine one bestowed upon Alia by the Huntress. She looked out at the peacocks strutting on the green in the park. So impractically pretty, she thought. Yet they could still take flight when they needed to. ¡°Are you proposing we let her go?¡± she asked. ¡°I¡¯m proposing that we have a strategy,¡± Tregarde said carefully. ¡°This girl is every bit our enemy, no doubt about that. But the Huntress was never foolish about stalking Her prey, was She? Did She ever tell anyone to just stride into a dragon¡¯s den?¡± Alia lolled her neck, trying to ease the knots she hadn¡¯t noticed before now. ¡°I don¡¯t suggest we do that, either,¡± she conceded. ¡°But Tregarde, she is coming for us. The priest mentioned a prophecy about the protector, and I have the feeling I am in it. We are hunting her, and she is hunting us. If she enters our presence, we must either kill her or die. Mercy is not in her; I will not ask it of her. And tonight is the solstice.¡± Tregarde drew closer to her, joining her in looking at the lake. ¡°Here¡¯s what we lack: the lay of the land, and allies. Fact is, if we lose against this Zephyra there¡¯s no reserve waiting in the fortress. We¡¯re it. You¡¯re it. You¡¯re the only one who can summon an astral, remember? That has to count for something.¡± ¡°Have you not served our Exalted Mother as faithfully as I have?¡± she faced him full on, meeting his gaze. ¡°I know what some say about me. Do you think I am so much a zealot that I will get us killed just to destroy one enemy of the Huntress? That I would sacrifice our mission, let everyone else die, just to eliminate a single enemy?¡± She studied his face, searching for signs of doubt, or derision. To her gratification, Tregarde met her eyes and did not look away. She could see him weighing her words. ¡°I never thought that of you,¡± he said at last. ¡°If the rumors about you were true you would have to be an idiot. And you¡¯re not. But I¡¯m thinking as a sparrowhawk, and as a sparrowhawk this is the time to circle our prey. Not swoop in. Sparrowhawks don¡¯t go after bigger birds, not usually. Nah, they flush out the smaller birds. You¡¯re the golden eagle, miss priestess, and fit for bigger game, but I¡¯m suggesting that for now we do this my way.¡± ¡°And the killing ground?¡± she asked. Tregarde took her shopping basket from her hands. ¡°I have an idea.¡± Chapter 20: The Killing Ground Chapter XX The Killing Ground In which Bess and Edana face jackals great and small All too soon the blue sky turned black, the sun retiring and giving way to the stars. Elamis; however, was aglow with light, both arcane and elemental: a parade of townspeople carried special glowlights shaped like starbursts and mounted onto carved wooden sticks. In their midst a long, black-feathered ¡®serpent¡¯ ran through the main avenue of the city. Shadows shrouded the serpent, such that its baleful red eyes gleamed in sharp relief. ¡°The Abyssal Serpent!¡± children cried, pointing at the snake. Little ones capered before it and taunted it, testing their courage. Occasionally the snake ¡°hissed¡± and nipped at them, sending the children fleeing back to the comforting arms of their parents. Yet the snake did not have everything its way¡ªcheers went up when two golden lamassu gave chase. The celestial guardians¡ªwinged, human-headed with the bodies of lions¡ªpulled a chariot carrying a beautiful young woman. ¡°Roshanak! Roshanak!¡± cheered the crowd. ¡°Oh, so that¡¯s what they call Sorcha here,¡± Bessa murmured to Edana. They walked in the midst of the parade lining the main avenue, following in the wake of Nima, a Star Dragon auxiliary who served as their translator. Clad in shimmering white and gold, ¡°Roshanak¡± threw kisses and coins at an adoring crowd. On her head she wore a gleaming starburst crown. In her right hand her scepter, capped with a starburst, shone with an ethereal golden light. ¡°Is this like your winter solstice celebration in your Falcon¡¯s Hollow?¡± Nima asked. ¡°No, you Anshani celebrate differently than the Silurans of Falcon¡¯s Hollow,¡± Edana replied. ¡°At home we don''t have the Abyssal Serpent ¡®slithering¡¯ through the streets; what we do is set up a stage to look like the entrance to the Abyss of the Damned. Then the Serpent comes up from ¡®depths¡¯ of the Abyss, and he¡¯s accompanied by three baying curs named Sorrow, Despair, and Death.¡± With a roguish tone Bessa added, ¡°Instead of the snake terrorizing everyone, the evil dogs have at it. But we don¡¯t let them have their way! Not in Falcon¡¯s Hollow. No, we thrust out our sun amulets and repel them. We keep up this skirmish until we see a glorious golden cloud appear over the stage. Lo, it is ¡®Sorcha¡¯ descending from above! Everyone cheers as she drives the serpent and its minions back to the Abyss.¡± Nima and Edana both laughed at her droll description of the festivities in Falcon¡¯s Hollow. When Roshanak¡¯s chariot drew near, Edana caught one of the coins she tossed. She and Bessa bent their heads together and examined it. Engraved on the front of the coin was a faithful likeness of the woman portraying Roshanak, in her full goddess regalia. Scrolled along the outer edges of the coin were words written in the Anshani script. ¡°Is this her name, Nima? And what¡¯s this on the bottom?¡± Edana asked. ¡°At top it says, ¡®Mina Elamisi, Winter Solstice Queen,¡¯ and at bottom it indicates this is the fortieth year of our king.¡± ¡°What a fantastic memento for being Sorcha¡ªRoshanak, I mean,¡± Bessa said. ¡°We didn¡¯t mint coins in Falcon¡¯s Hollow. When the town¡¯s council selected me to portray her, they did it because I had done the most charitable works that year. At least amongst the unmarried women; I was sixteen. My uncle Linos arranged to have some traveling beastmasters bring real lamassu for my chariot, which was a sweet surprise since we normally just use oxen spelled to look like them. You can only be Her once, then next year I got to choose my successor. How do you Anshani choose?¡± Nima didn¡¯t get to answer, for the exuberant crowd swept them along. Bessa noted the crowd seemed heedless of the curfew, but Nima explained Protector Amavand temporarily lifted the curfew, in honor of the festival. Which aroused suspicion in Edana. ¡°Whatever his purpose in setting the curfew, he must not be able to withstand the socio-political consequences of disrupting the Everbright¡¯s Festival. I eavesdropped on some Pelasgians talking about him, and let me tell you they resent him and his ¡®jumped up restrictions.¡¯ Passionately. The ones I overheard were taking bets on whether he¡¯d let the festival proceed. None of them believe his stated motives for imposing limits on their freedom.¡± ¡°What did they say?¡± Bessa asked ¡°Cynical speculations about why the Protector isn¡¯t snubbing Sorcha. They concluded he¡¯s allowing the festival because he can¡¯t come up with a solid excuse if the high king should call him on the carpet to explain himself. And that he wouldn¡¯t be able to bribe this Mina Elamisi to lie for him.¡± ¡°Wait, how does she play into this?¡± Bessa stood on her toes to see over the crowd, for by now ¡°Roshanak¡¯s¡± chariot had passed them by. In the distance she glimpsed Mina¡¯s gown and flowing hair billowing behind her, then the crowd surged into the avenue, cutting off any further view of her. ¡°About that, it turns out if you were an Anshani woman when you were crowned as Sorcha, you would have been invited to come to the high king¡¯s palace. Here, he invites the Sorchas¡ªthe Roshanaks¡ªfrom various city-states to the capital in the summer. The women then compete to be crowned the Summer Queen for the summer solstice.¡± Reigning as the Summer Queen involved more than just festival revelry, she learned. The Roshanaks, as representatives of their respective vassal rulers, carried with them their satrap¡¯s tributes and affirmations of loyalty to the shahanshah. As they followed the crowd down the avenue Edana added, ¡°If the protector has a schedule, let us suppose that whatever he¡¯s up to, he does not expect to be in a position to anger his king by this coming midsummer. Or arouse questions from him.¡± ¡°Nor can he anger his people now,¡± Bessa said. During their exploration of the city she, too, had kept her ear to the ground. ¡°As it is, people are questioning his loyalty to Aletheia, or Arenavachi as they call Her here. A few months back he declined to participate in Her festival, and the townspeople are still salty about it. No one believes he was really ill like he said. On top of that, he didn¡¯t even send a representative in his place. People insist the snub means something.¡± A political snare the Protector had yet to escape from. According to Ziri¡¯s dossier, all of the rulers in Anshan claimed divine authority from Aletheia. The shahanshah alone claimed to be directly appointed by Her, but the satraps based their authority on membership in Her priesthood. If the Protector of Elamis no longer served the Truthsayer, then by what right did he govern? In his gentle accent Nima brought up another matter. ¡°I heard some truth-seers conferring together earlier. They¡¯re saying that the lamassu pulling the Lightbringer¡¯s chariot aren¡¯t real. They are just lions spelled to look like lamassu.¡± ¡°What does that mean?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°Where a righteous king or satrap rules, the lamassu guard the gates of his city and palace. In Elamis it was once so that lamassu guarded the gates. So it was, in the days when the protector¡¯s father ruled. No longer is this true. The truth-seers fear the lamassu now consider Elamis as enemy territory. We should look into it.¡± The women agreed. Privately, Bessa pondered over the matter, and concluded she might use the townspeople¡¯s suspicions towards Protector Amavand as a fulcrum against him. At last the parade came to Ember Square, and stopped. ¡°Ooh,¡± Bessa cooed. Sometime during the day the Salamandra had transformed the market district. Fire and water dominated, with market stalls replaced by stone troughs. After every second trough came small marble fountains. High reliefs sculpted onto the troughs depicted the Everbright in various vignettes, especially in Her guise as a psychopomp¡ªa conductor of souls to the Place of Judgment. Rather than water in the troughs, here again the Salamandra used a strange liquid which fed the eerie flames. Fire wisp lanterns floated in the waters of the fountains. The wisps rose slowly into the air, making their way to the sky. Children ran forward to capture the them. ¡°For the Everbright¡¯s blessings,¡± Nima explained, when Bessa asked. ¡°To capture a wisp is good fortune; a little one will live another year.¡± ¡°Ah. At home, we give our children amulets. That sequence I mentioned, where Sorcha descends to the stage and vanquishes the Abyssal Serpent? We call that the ¡®Victory Over Darkness¡¯ sequence, and afterwards Sorcha¡¯s priests bless the children¡¯s amulets. To be honest I like our version better, because blessings are more concrete than catching a wisp by chance¡­¡± She stopped, seeing an enormous platform standing in the midst of the square. With the sun having gone, the white paint and gold trim ensured the structure stood out. Gold chrysanthemums festooned the platform. In its center stood an arbor spangled with chrysanthemums, gold as well as white. Priests of Roshanak stood in each corner of the stage, resplendent in white samite robes with stars woven through in gold thread. Each priest carried a silver bell, and smiled upon the townspeople as the crowed gathered around. Roshanak¡¯s chariot pulled up in front of the platform, right before the steps leading up to the arbor. Just as her feet touched the ground, the priests began ringing their silvery bells. The crowd quieted, expecting the bells signaled a forthcoming announcement. But the priests remained silent, and moments later they heard a cranking noise. At that moment, Bessa realized the floor beneath the arbor was hollow. Someone, or something, was about to ascend from below. Another representation of the Abyssal Serpent? Or perhaps his canine minions? Slowly, a gold diadem came into view, followed by a patrician face and the willowy frame of a man in fine raiment. The crowd hushed, staring awestruck at the figure standing beneath the arbor. He wore a splendid tunic in golden sea silk that flowed down to his ankles. Embroidered on the front of his tunic were a pair of paradox beasts, facing each other. One white, one teal, both of them had the tails of peacocks. Each had the head of a dog, and the body of a winged lion: the simurghs. In Rasena Valentis the simurghs sometimes pulled the Restorer¡¯s chariot. According to Bessa¡¯s travel guides, the Anshani believed the beasts also guarded a tree that bestowed eternal life on all who drank the elixir flowing through its vines. Were Protector Amavand the high king of Anshan Bessa would have supposed he chose the simurgh motif to underscore his power and privileges. But would a petty ruler have access to the sacred trees? ¡°May the light forever shine upon Elamis!¡± Protector Amavand greeted his people, raising his hands to the sky. In his right hand he clutched a golden scepter capped with a large red crystal carved to resemble fire. Symbolic of Aletheia¡¯s Flames of Truth. Did he intend to remind his people of his membership in Her priesthood? The crowd pointed their glowlights at the protector before bowing, and Bessa copied their movements exactly. ¡°May the light forever shine upon His Majesty,¡± the crowd recited. Nima quickly translated for Bessa and Edana¡¯s benefit. Protector Amavand waited for the crowd to quiet down, smiling all the while. Next came Roshanak¡¯s turn to speak. In a clear, bell-like voice, the young woman began the ritual litany as she ascended the steps. ¡°In the low places in the world and the highest places in the firmament, I watch over you all. I illuminate your path that you may not stumble, and light your way that you not fall astray. I bring to you clarity of purpose in your living days, and in Erebossa it is I who am your beacon to guide you to paradise: I am Roshanak, your Light in Darkness!¡± ¡°Roshanak¡± reached the top of the platform, and stood face to face now with the protector. She clasped his hand, and they jointly raised an arm above their heads. ¡°May the Light forever guide our protector!¡± Mina Elamisi shouted, and paused to allow for the cheers. Nima used the pause to complete his translations. Protector Amavand added, ¡°And may Your light forever guide my steps, in this world, and in Erebossa.¡± When the cheers died down, he spoke again. ¡°My good people, my beloved people,¡± he began. ¡°I stand before you now triumphant and defiant. Some time ago a prophecy foretold I would meet my end by this very night¡±¡ªHe waited for the crowd to gasp, and they obliged him. A few screamed, and several clasped their hands over their mouths, shocked. When Bessa heard the translation, she clenched her jaw, tense. Angry mobs were dangerous, and Papouli had shared stories of treating horrendous injuries of people caught up in them. If Protector Amavand was about to do what she suspected, she would discover for herself what mob violence was like. ¡°¡ªbut here I stand,¡± he continued. ¡°The prophecy said I would be murdered, by no less than three evil-doers. They are she-wolves with great malice in their hearts.¡± Protector Amavand turned, sweeping the crowd with hard, hawk-like eyes. It took everything Bessa had not to shrink back when his eyes alighted on her. Did his gaze linger? Running was not an option. The crowd was shifting to hunting mode, eying each other with open, fierce suspicion. Hunters, four-legged and two, chased prey, fleeing prey. If she stood her ground, she would not be prey. ¡°Amyntas, Protector of Innocents, hear my plea and intercede in this madness,¡± Bessa whispered. She stole a glance at Edana. Hold fast, Edana mouthed. Excitable murmuring rose up from the crowd. But Protector Amavand raised his hand, calming them once again. He smiled. ¡°Be of good cheer, my people: the prophecy has assured me the killers are not one of us. It is no Elamisi who would dare to perpetrate such evil. So, let it not be neighbor against neighbor amongst us. Know: it is foretold the she-wolves are foreigners.¡± Now the crowd had worked up to a frenzy, and those nearest to Bessa and Edana were giving them double takes. Their Rasena Valentian fashions marked them clearly as outsiders. Nima brought his hand to the dagger sheathed at his waist. Someone in the crowd shouted, ¡°A curse upon them! I curse them, in the name of the protector and for my protector!¡± Bessa¡¯s heart began to pound. Oh, give him his due: the protector had style. More, he was using the same ploy she had used against Duke Gagnon, except directed against her and Edana. But could he really mean to incite a bloodthirsty mob? During the Everbright¡¯s Festival? Such an egregious desecration if so¡­ Protector Amavand¡¯s smile widened in obvious satisfaction. ¡°Know also, my people: know that no matter what happens, I am proud to be your protector. I am proud to call you my people. In the days to come, I trust you will justify my pride in you. There is to be no unseemly violence on my behalf, for that is not our way. We will not lose our way on account of these foreign she-wolves.¡± Again Bessa stole a glance at Edana, who was eying the satrap with a faintly cynical expression. Protector Amavand turned to the young woman portraying Roshanak. Though stunned, she had remained at his side the entire time. Now she stared at him in confusion as he clasped her hand once again. Jolted, she raised their joined fists once more. ¡°In the name of Roshanak,¡± she began, her voice shaky. ¡°In the name of Roshanak the Everbright, let it be that foul deeds planned in the dark be brought to the light! The she-wolves can not hide their faces from justice. They can not hide at all, for there is no place the Light shall not find them!¡± Her voice had gained strength midway through, and she finished strong and determined. Nima adroitly managed to keep up with her. The protector¡¯s voice was also clear and firm. ¡°Let justice be done.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. At that moment, an otherworldly scream rang out. A dark shape circled overhead, shadowed by the lights. A large bird of prey. It circled three times, then dove, revealing itself to be a golden eagle. The crowd gasped again, and so did Bessa. Golden eagles were not nocturnal. To see one now could only be an omen. Would a bird sacred to the Huntress appear by chance outside of its natural time? Quietly, she added the Huntress to her petition to thwart Protector Amavand¡¯s scheme. The raptor stopped its dive before the king¡¯s face, and floated before him. She spread her golden brown wings to the full seven feet of her span, generating just enough of a breeze to lift a few strands of Bessa¡¯s hair. Protector Amavand screamed, as did Mina Elamisi. Though the bird blocked most of the view, Bessa could see the young woman was backing away. Did the raptor harm her? The bird swooped up, allowing them a full view of the satrap. His hair, once beautifully coiffed, now stood in wild disarray. More, he was clutching his forehead. Bessa squinted. What was different about him? Was that blood coming from his fingers? The raptor undulated, flying just over the crowd, forcing everyone in its path to reflexively duck down. Something shiny gleamed in its beak. The bird turned back swiftly, aiming for Protector Amavand again. Something metal clattered on the steps of the platform. Something golden and shiny. The protector of Elamis stared at it, eyes round in astonishment. Following his gaze Bessa inhaled when she recognized the object on the ground. The diadem. The protector¡¯s diadem. Once more the raptor screamed. It flew once more to the protector, snatching his scepter and swooping upwards again. It circled high over the protector three times, light bouncing off the crystals, creating a red trail in the sky. Then it undulated, heading straight for the pseudo-lamassu that had pulled Roshanak¡¯s chariot. It released the scepter. Time seemed to stop as the scepter fell. Bessa could not count the beats of her heart, so transfixed was she by the fall. The scepter landed, point first, shattering the crystal flame into a thousand pieces before the feet of the lions.
The crowd erupted then, everyone fleeing every which way. Edana grabbed Bessa¡¯s hand, and they ran for it, Edana leading the way. Through twists and turns they fled through the streets. Deliberately Bessa refused to entertain any thought of impending doom, only focusing on escaping the wild crowd. Someone snatched at Edana¡¯s hair, forcing her to crack her glowlight over his skull. He fell, but Edana did not slow to see it. At first Nima kept up with them, but when a man lunged for Bessa, Nima unsheathed his knife. ¡°Keep running! Get away!¡± Nima shouted. And so they did, keeping a relentless pace until the crowds thinned. Edana swiped a torch as they ran. The moon had already set, and they would otherwise have to run in complete darkness. Abruptly she stopped and released Bessa¡¯s hand. Clasping her knees, Bessa gasped for air. Once she regained her breath she leaned back against a brick wall and tried to get her bearings. By the looks of it, they stood in an alleyway. More to the point, the screams of the crowd did not reach their ears. ¡°A message?¡± she rasped. Edana inhaled, catching her own breath as well. With a small smile she shook her head, causing shadows to flicker and jump as her torch bobbed in her hand. ¡°Indeed. I can¡¯t think of any clearer message: the satrap is no servant of the truth, and by the blessings of the Huntress his reign is at an end. I¡¯m impressed.¡± Mocking laughter from her made Bessa arch an eyebrow. ¡°Impressed by the Huntress? You?¡± Edana favored her with a roguish smile. She looked around. To ordinary sight they appeared to be completely alone, but the dark hid many shadows. Coming closer she whispered, ¡°If you mean the greater spirit you call a goddess, no. If you mean the woman the Fire Lords instructed us to seek, yes. I suspect this is her doing. It is well played; turning the protector¡¯s gambit against him so thoroughly. No accusation he would bring against us will be so readily believed, and if he should die he will not be presumed blameless. In the eyes of his people, he has been repudiated by the Huntress. Rejoice, for the killing ground has been well-prepared for us.¡± Bessa paused, considering the idea. After a moment she, too, began to smile. Then she sobered, realizing they were alone, without Nima. Even though the satrap¡¯s message was thwarted, it would not surprise her if the city¡¯s watch insisted on incarcerating foreign women: ¡°For safety¡¯s sake, young lovelies.¡± Or, the city¡¯s watchmen might curry favor with him by finding convenient trophies to present to him: ¡°We killed them for you, Your Majesty.¡± ¡°We can¡¯t go to the inn,¡± Bessa concluded aloud. ¡°And we¡¯ve lost Nima.¡± ¡°We may still find sanctuary, though. Come.¡± Edana straightened, and turned to the end of the alley, which led to a small clearing. Bessa was suddenly conscious of the pouch of crystals the Fire Lords had given them. The pouch she carried inside her dress, tied to an inner belt. Hidden to the eyes of any cut-purses. Four crystals which would allegedly protect against Murena. An hour after sunrise she and Edana performed the Fire Lords¡¯ ritual, when the dying sickle moon had been at its highest in the sky. Skepticism gave way to faith when the previously pale orange crystals now swirled with pale blue after they¡¯d captured the moon¡¯s light. Her heart fluttered as she considered the consequences if they had left the crystals in the inn¡ªif she and Edana had to flee town like thieves in the night, they would not have had a way to retrieve the crystals. ¡°Wait, Edana. Where are we going?¡± Edana halted in the clearing. Cautious, she moved her torch arm in a wide arc, as if to reveal anyone hiding in the shadows. ¡°I think we should go¡ª¡± She cut herself off, jolted by the same sound that made Bessa¡¯s blood freeze in her veins. Alert, Edana¡¯s gaze slid to their right. From out of the darkness, amongst the trees, red eyes glared out at them. First one pair, then another, and another, until it was clear that they were surrounded. A howl rose up, curdling their blood and freezing their innards. Edana plunged the torch into the ground. Without hesitation, she unsheathed her Huntress knives. Having kept Lysander¡¯s knife at her side, Bessa readied it now. Though it lacked the same power of Edana¡¯s knives, Bessa gambled the knife would still slit throats well enough. So long as she wasn¡¯t against giants or anything in armor, anyway. Even so, she wished mightily for the thunder maces they¡¯d left in their room at the inn. Openly using the giants'' weapons would give them away as being arcana, and so and Edana had decided to reserve them for a last resort. ¡°Do we run?¡± Bessa whispered. Silence from Edana, for she was staring at her knives. The sigils on them flared white. With a hard swallow Edana said, ¡°My knives only glow white in the presence of an Erebossan. We need our salt.¡± Her hands strayed to a pouch hanging from her belt. Halie¡¯s salt, the holy salt. From a pouch in her satchel Bessa took a fistful of salt. As Edana turned left she turned right, and together they made a circle of a thin line of salt. It would give them a fighting chance¡ªso long as they remained in the circle. They finished just in time. The red eyes came forward, into the torchlight. Jackals! Golden jackals, haloed with a black-red light signaling an infernal power animated them. Eidolons, who would confer an intelligence on the beasts they would not otherwise have. Blood surged in Bessa¡¯s veins. Screams died unvoiced in her throat. Time seemed to stand still as the jackals drew ever closer, until one leapt¡ª And crashed backward, as if it had hit a repulsing shield. In the blink of an eye it flipped itself upright, even as its companions met the same fate. Intending to strike, Bessa raised her arm. To her surprise, Edana grabbed her wrist, immobilizing her. ¡°What?¡± Edana shook her head, gesturing at the jackals with her knife. ¡°They¡¯re possessed. We¡¯ll release the eidolons if we kill them.¡± Bessa sucked in a breath and looked around. Malevolent eyes in every direction: they were well and truly trapped. ¡°What now?¡± she asked. The jackals circled, pawing at the ground, but keeping well clear of the salt. They growled and howled, baring ferocious teeth. ¡°Someone has to be controlling them. How would jackals enter this city, fortified as it is? And these didn¡¯t get possessed on their own,¡± Edana said. Tremors rippled through Bessa¡¯s body. Desperate, she peered into the stand of trees beyond the jackals. Gradually she realized she and Edana had come to the park via a different entrance. And parks meant cultivated trails and shrubbery, which offered a hiding place for a beastmaster. Without warning, Edana cried out, unleashing a torrent of words in the Eitanite language. A light blinded Bessa and she turned away, covering her eyes with her arm. What was happening? When her vision returned Bessa lowered her arm and focused on Edana. Whose moonbow-steel blades now glowed with white fire. Now Edana moved, slashing with both knives, striking two jackals at once. The sound the beasts made stunned Bessa, rooting her to the spot. Black mist rose up from the jackals Edana had struck. Eidolons. White flames arced from Edana¡¯s knives, unerringly seeking the mist. In just a heartbeat the mist was obliterated, dissipating as if a strong wind had blown through. Relentless, Edana made quick work of the other jackals. Once she expelled the last fellshade the flames dimmed, allowing her to sheath the knives once more. Edana fell to her knees, letting out one profound exhale. Her hands trembled. Bessa looked away from her. From infancy their friendship was born, and even in their nursery days Edana hated to reveal when she was upset. Usually, she would brood and ponder over a matter until she came to an emotional equilibrium. Only then would she share her thoughts with Bessa. So, Bessa warily looked over the jackals instead, pretending to check for any twitching. ¡°What did you do?¡± she asked, when she was sure Edana had regained control of herself. ¡°I believed,¡± she said. The faint smile on her face suggested she was amused with herself. ¡°Ah?¡± Bessa held out a hand, and Edana accepted, allowing Bessa to pull her up. ¡°Remember when we were going to Abris? Lady Nensela said I could hold fellshades at bay, too. I once frightened off an eidolon¡ªHonoria. At the time I thought it was a coincidence. But now was as good a time as any to test Lady Nensela¡¯s beliefs.¡± Bessa paused. Though Edana had hesitated, ever so slightly, she nevertheless spoke Honoria¡¯s name. Progress of a kind. Ever since The Ordeal, as Bessa called it, Edana never uttered the eidolon¡¯s name if she could help it. What changed? Her gaze strayed to Edana¡¯s knives, which still glowed softly, even through their sheaths. You believe the Sayings. So Lady Nensela had observed of Edana. Perhaps then, the knives Edana wielded were not the sole power at work in destroying the jackals. Perhaps Lysander¡¯s basilisk-slaying knife would be sufficient against Erebossi, if Bessa wielded them in the name of one of the gods. Belief in the Sower seemed to give Edana strength, and Bessa was glad of it. Even so, she wondered, ¡°What if you were wrong? What would the eidolons have done?¡± ¡°They would have had the other jackals to possess. There is no limit, as far as I know, as to how many fellshades may possess a single body. But we would still have been sitting like fatted calves.¡± ¡°And those words you said? Were they from the Sayings?¡± ¡°Indeed.¡± She eyed Bessa, frowning. ¡°If I weren¡¯t here¡ªwe need to find the means for you to repel Erebossi. For now, take one of my knives.¡± She unsheathed the knives again, and Bessa realized she¡¯d only put them away to hide her trembling. Now the determined look on her face reminded Bessa of statues of the Huntress. However, Bessa held up a hand. ¡°The Reaper¡¯s priests never taught me about Erebossi. Nothing in their hearth scrolls speak of them. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll get as much use out of that knife as you know how to.¡± ¡°What do you say over blighted land? I know Lysander brought in reapers to help Abris.¡± Blighted land? Her vineyard was fertile, and she had yet to need to learn how to heal land. But in stories, reapers would sometimes find ravaged, or haunted lands. I reclaim this land for the living, they would chant, forcing the spirits to move on. Not being a priestess or a sorceress, the words alone would not be an option for her. However¡ª ¡°We¡¯ll need to visit a hearth hall,¡± Bessa said finally, referring to the temples of the Reaper. A glimmer of an idea had come to her, and she would need them to verify if her plan was even possible. Edana gestured with her knife, pointing to the woods where the jackals had come from. ¡°Tomorrow, then. Tonight, we hunt.¡± In haste they doffed their chitons, revealing short tunics and long leather trousers. As Silurans, they knew the practical value of trousers and made sure to get themselves a pair when they entered Anshan. For herself Bessa had chosen a deerskin pair with a band of floral embroidery down the sides. Edana wore the same kind, but in black. Edana strode into the trees, and Bessa followed her into the darkness without complaint. Staying in the clearing would leave them exposed. Like fatted calves, as Edana put it. The trees in the park offered refuge and hiding places. A path wound through a heavily wooded sector thick with trees. Initially the women shied away from it. Torchstands lit the way well enough, which meant they¡¯d once again be exposed if they traveled it. An ambush seemed all the more likely, under the circumstances. Then they saw him. A figure in the woods, running on the path, away from them. Annoyed with herself, Bessa sucked her teeth. ¡°First thing tomorrow I¡¯ll get a sling.¡± Rodrigo, one of Aurelia¡¯s house guards, taught her and Edana how to use a sling when they were children, ostensibly so they could accompany Uncle Linos on his hunts. In practice; however, the girls only used the slings in imaginary games. Hopefully, the skill was one of those never forgotten once one mastered it. They gave chase, keeping to the shadows as far as possible. Still wary an ambush awaited them. Several times the man turned back. Leather mask, bronze amulet¡ªa beastmaster, no doubt. Once only did he stop. He stared down the path, looking to and fro. Giving Edana the opportunity she needed to close the distance. Before he realized she was there she charged into him. In self-defense he raised his palms. Which cost him three fingers as Edana slashed down with her knife. His scream could have awakened the dead, Bessa thought. Blood gushed from his ruined hand. Reflexively he lashed out, kicking Edana and sending her sprawling to the stone path. Meanwhile, Bessa caught up to them. Confronted with her adversary face to face, she felt strangely apart from her body, as if she were watching everything at a distance. Thus she felt no emotion¡ªneither pity nor excitement as she stabbed him in the side. The scream she drew from him left her unmoved. Just in time she jumped back, dodging his attempt to backhand her with his intact hand. The beastmaster turned and resumed his flight. Frantic, he shouted words she didn¡¯t recognize. A spell? Bessa¡¯s heart skipped a beat. The beastmaster had likely shouted a summoning spell, calling other animals to his aid. Damn! Terror gave her speed as she pursued him. Fast behind her came the sound of Edana¡¯s footsteps. In the lead, Bessa reached, stretching out her hand as far as she could. Her fingers glanced off his belt. She let out a hiss of frustration. Pain lanced her feet; the soles of her boots were too thin for running over brambles. Or stone, for that matter. On her second attempt she let her knife give her the reach she needed, and thus she sliced through his tunic and into his back. The man stumbled, but didn¡¯t stop. In her frenzy, Bessa didn¡¯t hear the screeching until a shadow fell over her. From the corner of her eye she saw a ghostly white shape bearing down on her. Edana shouted a warning; Bessa lashed out with her knife. The white shape made contact with her arm. All at once searing pain shot through her, overwhelming her so much she didn¡¯t even scream. Something stabbed her shoulder. No matter how she ducked and whirled, her mysterious attacker held her fast. It latched on to the back of her tunic and pierced through her subarmalis, scoring her skin. Talons, she realized. So a bird of prey was attacking her. The creature¡¯s breath warmed her neck as it let out a hiss, loud and harsh. Bessa jerked her knife backwards, over her shoulder. The knife struck the bird. The riotous screech in her ears stopped her heart. Then a weight fell off her shoulder, and Bessa whirled once more, looking down to see what had attacked her. Just in time to catch two more shapes bearing down. Owls. Ghost-face owls, their pale feathers taking on an ethereal glow in the starlight. Silver fire lanced the sky, striking the birds before they could get within range of her knife. They didn¡¯t even have time to screech. They fell to the ground, bouncing once and lying still after. ¡°He¡¯s getting away,¡± Edana said, holding her knives out on either side of her body. The silvery flames hadn¡¯t subsided yet. Torch lamps lined this next path the beastmaster had chosen. He had managed to put a respectable distance between himself them. Nevertheless, Bessa sighed, relief blooming when when she spotted the trail of blood he¡¯d unwittingly left for them. Let him run, they could still track him¡ªso long as he stayed on the road. But her relief died just as quickly: he could still speak. What other creatures might he summon to attack them? They resumed the chase. The man ran as though Erebossi were after him. He veered left, disappearing into a valley between two slopes dotted with shrubbery. Following his lead, Bessa and Edana jumped off the path as well. They hurried onto the right hand slope. Whatever trap he set, they refused to blunder into it. But the man kept running. The little valley trail opened onto another clearing, where a stone tower stood. From their vantage point they caught one last glimpse of him as he slipped behind the tower¡¯s massive oak doors. Bessa studied the tower. Three stories tall, with a narrow window marking off each story. Light flickered from the top most window, revealing a shadowy figure moving about. In the blink of her eyes it vanished. ¡°A trap?¡± she asked. Throbbing pain drew her attention back to her arm. She gingerly cradled it, and observed for the first time the blood soaking her sleeve. The owl¡¯s talons had opened her arm from her wrist to her elbow. In her condition, any predator the beastmaster called forth could track her with ridiculous ease. Edana¡¯s lips thinned as she stared straight ahead at the tower. No further movement from the top window. Likely whoever had been posted there had gone to meet the beastmaster. Who could still summon animals to kill them. ¡°A trap,¡± Edana agreed. Something rustled behind them. Immediately Bessa drew out her knife, her pain forgotten, and she and Edana spun around as one to confront the new threat facing them. Her heart stopped when she saw the figure peering at them from out of the darkness. Edana gasped. ¡°By the Reaper,¡± Bessa whispered. Chapter 21: The Trap XXI The Trap In which the dead speak As Alia expected, beastmasters tracked the eagle, whose return she patiently awaited. When it finally arrived sherewarded it with a small, live rabbit. A falconer¡¯s aura intermingled with the bird¡¯s: Someone would be visiting her shortly. The bird dined on the knoll below, while Alia lay in wait in the tree above. The enemy didn¡¯t keep her waiting. The rattle of their armor and the rhythmic beat of their kettledrums heralded their presence long before they came into view. Did they mean to strike fear into her with all of that racket? The bird cocked its head in the direction of the noise. In ordinary circumstances Alia would have expected it to fly away. However, the Ellura revealed the spell at work on the eagle: by the falconer¡¯s compulsion, the bird would remain near Alia until the soldiers arrived. She sketched a salute, pleased to see such competence in the enemy commander, whoever he might be. How well it suited her plans! After what she¡¯d done to the protector of Elamis, she fully expected him to order his elite soldiers to fetch her with all speed. Would they detect her trap before or after it was too late? She glanced about, and this time her own companions made her salute with pride: they were well-hidden from even from her acute eyes. With her keen sensitivity to light, color, and movements she excelled at spotting hidden prey. Yet experience taught her that Sheridan was downright gifted at concealing himself from prey and predator alike. And Tregarde knew the art of the ambush, which accorded with his rank as a ¡®sparrowhawk¡¯ huntsman. Satisfied her companions were doing their part, Alia turned her attention back to the calvary. Fortunately, they didn¡¯t keep her in suspense. Swiftly the cataphracti came into view, man and horse armored alike in gleaming silvery armor. The men wore plates, their horses wore scale, but both shone brilliantly in the firelight of the torches the men carried. Sheer marvel at the sight of armored horses made Alia¡¯s blood cool and her nerves steady; the opposite of what the soldiers must have intended. Transfixed, she stared for several heartbeats before her purpose reasserted itself and she forced herself to focus on her mission. Remaining silent, she did not so much as flinch when the lead officer came to a halt just beyond the trap. The officer gestured for someone to come forward. A man, the only one unarmored, slid off the back of a soldier¡¯s horse and stepped forward. A falconer, Alia guessed, on account of his leather gauntlets and shoulder pads and hawking equipment tied to his belt. With the falconer accounted for, Alia ignored him to study the horses instead. Their nervous nickering, skittish steps and swiveling ears were a warning. Would the soldiers heed it? The falconer consulted with the leader, then held out his arm. The thick gauntlets protecting his forearm looked sturdy enough to withstand the eagle. Staring straight at the eagle, his lips began to move. No doubt he was commanding the golden eagle to return to him. Yet the bird ignored him, focusing on the rabbit it dined upon. The cavalry men murmured amongst themselves, looking to one another in surprise. The falconer raised his voice. This time the eagle lifted her head, but otherwise ignored him. Now the falconer stepped forward. The grasses lining the bottom of the knoll reached his knees, forcing him to stomp his way through. At the crest of the hill the grass only came to his ankles. By this time, the raptor had sated herself. When the falconer held out his arm, the bird flew up and perched on the gauntlet. Below the hill, the horses pawed at the ground. The calvary commander¡¯s nostrils flared. He urged his mount forward, but the horse snorted and reared up. The man¡¯s will overcame the horse¡¯s though, and soon he managed to get the beast onto the hillside. The men followed their leader. When the last cataphract ascended the hill a faint red ring appeared, circling the hill. At first the men didn¡¯t notice; their attention was fixed on the falconer. The falconer in turn fixed his attention on the golden eagle. Thus, he exclaimed when the eagle flew up out of reach. At that moment the ring became a curtain, shooting up from the tall grasses and reaching into the trees. Far beyond any height a horse could jump. The men began shouting, and all drew their swords. The falconer focused on the horses, uttering a spell and making deliberate gestures. The tension in his stance and posture revealed he was using all of his willpower to keep the horses from bolting. The commander was having similar trouble with his men. After a short while he made them form an infantry square. Shapes began to coalesce in the red lights. All of the men fell silent, but Alia focused on their leader. His posture stiffened and his gloved hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. As for the sorcerers¡ªmarked so by the lack of weapons in their hands¡ªthey remained calm. They clustered together inside the infantry square. By their chants Alia suspected they were preparing an abjuration spell. This did not trouble her, but she wondered if the sorcerers would impress her by remaining calm once the first phase of her plan came to fruition. The shapes quickly proved to be shades, spectral beings in the form of men. Each ¡°wore¡± different clothing, some in military uniforms and others in civilian clothes. One youth stood in their midst, a boy of about fourteen years old. At first the shades were motionless, in formation around the hill. And then, as if by some secret signal, the shades surged forward. Terrified, the soldiers shouted as one. Chaos unleashed, their commander abandoned any attempt to keep them in line. All of the cavalrymen gave their horses free rein as they bolted. The poor falconer, still on foot, was forced to run. Thanks to Palamara and his family, Alia possessed a limited command of Anshani. Enough to understand when the men below her shouted, ¡°I killed you! You¡¯re supposed to be dead!¡± From her perch in the trees Alia watched them flee. Tracking them would be absurdly easy, given the clamor of their armor and the beat of their horses¡¯ hooves. People a mile away could probably hear them. All she needed was one. Just one soldier would do. She whistled and her own mount, a gryphon, arrived. Sheridan had spent the day procuring gryphons for this very task. Now, Alia leapt onto its back and gave chase. She quartered the field, searching for one horseman isolated enough for her purposes. The ghosts harried her prey, all according to plan. Initially she had intended to set up a barrier similar to the one she¡¯d placed around the Wolf & Raven, the inn where she was staying. For the inn her spell prevented infernal or death magics from being used in and around the grounds. But this park was her killing ground, and for such purpose Alia meant to adapt the barrier to have any such spell cast within it reflect back onto whoever cast it. Unfortunately, Zephyra presented a complication. Because the girl might have chosen to accompany the cavalry, Alia needed to take every measure to avoid killing her, however indirectly. So now, Tregarde¡¯s gambit. The veil separating the living from Erebossa became thin on solstice nights. Thin enough for resurrections on the summer solstice¡­ And thin enough for shades to cross over from Erebossa on the winter solstice. In Lyrcania, people observed strict laws regarding the performance the rites for the dead, no matter who they were and how they¡¯d died. But as Watch-Huntress Alia discovered murderers often refused their victims these rites, by disposing of them in a fashion that would prevent anyone else from performing it for them. A final, spiteful act, one which opened up dire consequences for any killer who struck too close to the winter solstice. Soldiers in the service of Zephyra and the Protector would have to have dishonorably killed many people. Dissenters within the regime, resisters without, innocent bystanders¡ªany such people would have been a target. Zephyra had remorselessly murdered a man in Aletheia¡¯s temple; would she not also command others to murder people in furtherance of her own goals? No matter how long ago they died, her victims would still want justice. On the night of the winter solstice, the dead could avenge themselves. The silvery gleam on the horses¡¯ armor aided Alia in picking out the one she wanted. With one whistle, she signaled Tregarde. His reaction came swiftly. His gryphon swooped, screaming as it passed across the path of the cataphractus. The rider did not miss the living threat, and immediately swerved. Now Sheridan¡¯s gryphon came screeching behind the horse and rider, intervening between the rider and the shade chasing him. The rider swerved again. Tregarde and Sheridan alternated harrying him, until they drove him so far from his companions that none would hear him scream. Straight into a dead end path, which ended at the sheer face of the mountain Elamis was built around. Cornered against bare rock, the man had nowhere else to run. The soldier looked wildly to and fro, his sword drawn. He cried out a command in Anshani. Only the shade answered him, crashing toward him like a tidal wave. In a moment it floated before him, much to the terror of the horse, which bucked and shrieked. The horse shinnied away, trying desperately to escape the ghost. The man lost his sword in a frantic attempt to calm his horse. But this close to the ghost the horse would not be stilled; only the most powerful of beastmasters could overcome the horse under the circumstances. The man lacked such power, and fell from his mount with a great clang as his armor struck the rocky soil. The horse galloped away, kicking up dirt and rocks in its wake. Stranded, with nowhere else to run, the man reclaimed his sword. He held it point down as he faced his ghost. Marshalling what dignity he could he stood tall, his body coiled¡ªfor a strike or a blow Alia was not sure. Regardless, he held his head high. ¡°Hosh!¡± the man named his victim. Now Alia intervened. She swept down, landing between the soldier and the ghost. Tregarde and Sheridan flanked her. With a backward gesture, a silver light flew from Tregarde¡¯s hands. It encased the ghost, trapping it for the moment. The soldier gaped at Alia. For this skirmish she had abandoned all pretense of being undercover, and once again clothed herself in her huntress regalia. ¡°Sheathe your sword,¡± she demanded. ¡°The huntress,¡± the man murmured, awestruck. He gripped his pommel and shifted his weight slightly, as if weighing his chances if he rushed her. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. But it would be a futile strike, and he knew it. He obeyed, then folded his arms. ¡°Protector Amavand shall have your head,¡± he snapped at her. ¡°Whatever you do to me¡ª¡± ¡°Be silent until I give you leave to speak,¡± Alia cut him off. The man¡¯s jaw clicked shut. Alia gestured, and Tregarde reacted. The entrapped ghost floated forward, between Alia and the soldier. ¡°How did you know this man?¡± Alia asked the ghost. Language did not deter a ghost from communicating; it would understand whatever she asked and she in turn would understand him. The ghost assumed robes of brown edged in green, the colors of the Reaper. ¡°I was a groundskeeper,¡± Hosh sighed. ¡°I kept the sacred herbs. But my wells were poisoned and my plants were scythed in service of the Abomination.¡± ¡°Shut your mouth!¡± the soldier shouted. He began swearing, using the saltier words hurled by the criminals Alia arrested in Lyrcania. Her forbidding look, reminiscent of Rikka, silenced him quickly. His nostrils flared and his jaw clenched, but he stilled his tongue. ¡°The Abomination. Who or what is the Abomination?¡± Alia pursued, addressing the ghost. Was it too much to ask for the ghost to know the name of the shadow queen? The ghost smiled, without mirth. He jerked his spectral finger at the soldier. ¡°He fears I shall tell the sins of our king and her. The so-called Handmaiden. But I did not fear to call out their wickedness in life; I cannot be fettered in death.¡± He smiled wider, and the soldier shuddered. ¡°Yes,¡± Alia said briskly, bridling her impatience as best she could. ¡°Let us embrace your freedom. Come, revel in it, dear old man: say now everything that he would keep hidden in the darkness. Look into his heart and tell me of the things he fears most to be known.¡± Hosh cackled in profound glee at the license she¡¯d given him. He spared nothing, telling her what she already suspected: the Handmaiden and Zephyra were one and the same, and that Zephyra served a dark queen. As for the queen, ¡°The Abomination is of Erebossa. A goddess, to the fools who pay fealty to her. She can tolerate nothing that is alive,¡± the ghost said. ¡°She has a vast, bottomless hatred for the living. Her envy is without balm or succor for she cannot create, only tear asunder. Whether I spoke against the Handmaiden or not, she would have slain me anyway, for her queen must demand it of her: I am¡ªwas¡ªa reaper. We who cultivate life are the mortal enemies of one such as her queen.¡± Alia pondered his words. Before coming to Anshan she had already concluded the sorcerers aimed to destroy the gates between the living and the dead. Now the ghost was telling her to go a step further: the sorcerers were obedient soldiers of the Erebossan queen. By her command they poisoned the dryad groves, and carried off the dryads. The destruction of the groves may not be just a means to an end, necessarily. Alia¡¯s stomach roiled. The hope she carried in her heart all these years, of finding her aunts alive, began to die. She swallowed hard, and forced herself to admit her hope had never been realistic. Vengeance, not rescue, for her missing aunts. But Aunt Nalini and Aunt Chrysantha and all the others were taken alive. That has to mean something. It has to. ¡°What is the queen after?¡± she demanded. Part of Alia feared to know the answer. The other part of her, the part that belonged to the Huntress, knew that prey could not be hunted if one did not know where it slept or what it ate or where it mated. ¡°It is as I said,¡± the ghost said. ¡°The infernal queen hates the living. Our undoing is all she seeks, and she will stop at nothing to make it so.¡± Alia exchanged a glance with Tregarde and Sheridan. They looked as gut-punched as she felt. ¡°Why now? The Erebossan has had all of eternity to make this happen. Why is she only moved to act now?¡± The ghost shimmered, a sort of shrug. Then he reasserted his form and replied, ¡°You are in error. This did not begin only when you first knew of it. This I know: many battles she has fought, and many battles she has won. And, time is not reckoned the same in Erebossa.¡± The ghost¡¯s tone became mournful now. A tremor rippled through Alia at his tone. In her own way she had been cruel to the ghost, for he could not truly cross the great gulf between them. He could look upon the living, but not participate. He could remember the past, could perhaps foresee the future, but the present was lost to him now. In this world he was only past tense, now and forever. But now was not the time for pity. Now she must follow the thread Hosh presented to her. Added to the threads she had already gathered she began to perceive a pattern, like a design woven on a loom. Faintly, for the complete picture still eluded her, but for the first time victory seemed nearer than it ever had. ¡°Did they kill you only because you served the Reaper? Is this soldier another follower of the queen?¡± ¡°The soldier? The soldier is a follower of the protector,¡± the ghost corrected. He put scorn into his voice as he said, ¡°The protector may lead him to the Abyss itself and he would follow, fool that he is. Obedience will not win him escape from the Abyss, no matter what lies he tells himself.¡± A bitter smile at the soldier. ¡°But what he fears in his heart he is right to fear: the protector cares nothing about him. The Handmaiden cares less so. This also I know.¡± The soldier clenched his hands into fists. He cursed under his breath, only lapsing into silence again when Sheridan touched the hilt of his long knife. ¡°As for why I was killed,¡± said the ghost, who had born the name Hosh in life, ¡°the queen demanded a ritualdesecration of my body. I am neither the first nor last of her victims. You will find what is left, servant of the Huntress. You will find what is left of me. Deal honorably with my bones, I beg of you, so I may go to my rest in the Everlasting Lands¡± Alia bowed her head. ¡°It shall be done, servant of the Reaper. Go now to your rest. And if you see the queen, let her know Alia Ironwing is coming for her.¡± A spectral light shimmered around and through the ghost. ¡°She knows,¡± he said, the light fading, and he with it. ¡°She awaits you. May your knives be sharp and your arrows sing true.¡± Having blessed her, he returned once more to Erebossa. Alia turned the full weight of her gaze now on the soldier. ¡°Now what?¡± he demanded, his tone sullen as he shifted his gaze from her to Tregarde to Sheridan and back to her again. ¡°Listen to that foolish old man if you must. Do your worst if you must; I do not fear you.¡± He spoke in stilted Pelasgian. It was Alia¡¯s turn to smile. ¡°I offer you the luxury of another night. What is left of it. And I will even give you advice, for what it is worth to you: tell Zephyra all that I have done this night. Hold nothing back from her and you may keep your tongue between your jaws.¡± With that, she spurred her gryphon to take flight, Tregarde and Sheridan following only a heartbeat later.
¡°Will she kill him, do you think?¡± Sheridan wondered as they watched Hosh¡¯s murderer speed on his way, as fast as his feet would take him. From their vantage point they kept watch over the remnants of the calvary. With great might the calvary had come as one to subdue and capture them. Now, the soldiers fled in every direction. Most of them had unwittingly passed Alia¡¯s second boundary, which no shade was permitted to cross. They still fled, though nothing now pursued them. How long would it take for the thunder of hoofbeats to reach Zephyra¡¯s ears in the citadel? Doubtless, this ¡°handmaiden¡± would do her own accounting of their numbers. Failure to return to her would not be met with mercy¡­ Again Alia thought of the drawing the Guileless One had given her of Zephyra. Such cold, cold eyes. Cruel eyes. The eyes of one who may be above petty tantrums, but not above pitiless punishments for failure. Perhaps the surviving soldiers might flee¡­ ¡°Maybe she will allow him to live. Unless she needs a sacrifice,¡± Alia answered at last. ¡°But I don¡¯t like his chances all the same. However, his problems are not our problems, so long as he serves our purposes.¡± However, the thought of a sacrifice sparked alarm in her. The roil in her stomach threatened to become a tidal wave, and it was all she could do to keep her food down. This night she had used the winter solstice as a weapon. Primarily to save lives at the Everbright¡¯s festival. But what would an Erebossan queen who hated the living do on such a night? What sacrifice would propitiate her? Though Alia had thwarted her from turning the festival into a slaughter, she doubted the Erebossan queen would allow herself to be balked so easily. Other victims might be procured for her¡­ ¡°Spread out,¡± Alia said. ¡°We need to quarter the city. See where any watchman, any soldier goes. You heard what Hosh said. If the queen does not demand blood on this night of all nights then I am not a huntress.¡± ¡°The soldiers. The watchmen. Do we engage them?¡± Sheridan asked. He touched the rifle, still in its scabbard on his saddle. ¡°From a distance if you can,¡± Alia said. ¡°But the priority is to save the intended victims. Spare nothing in that. I¡¯ll be honest with you, I¡¯m scared their deaths will be the beginning of their suffering if they die by her will tonight.¡± ¡°Oh happy thoughts,¡± Tregarde muttered, unholstering his own pistol and setting it across his thigh. ¡°May your bullets sing true,¡± Tregarde said to them both. With that, they split up, leaving Alia alone. She¡¯d allotted herself the park, as it was close enough to the parade grounds for would-be murder victims to flee to. She stared down at the scenery below, having second thoughts about her plan. Only herself, Tregarde, and Sheridan to carry it out, after all. A bloodthirsty Erebossan queen would have sent her handmaiden and other henchman abroad, on tonight of all nights. And what were they doing? Frustration and terror battled it out inside of her. How was she to protect this city? Between herself, Sheridan, and Tregarde, she could not hope to save everyone who needed saving. Should she ask the Huntress to send her an astral? Perhaps an army of astral warriors? ¡°It¡¯s all the¡ªwhat is that?¡± She swooped for a closer look. And frowned, confused by what she saw. Jackals. Dead jackals, a ring of them, outside a circle lined with salt. The Ellura wand illuminated the macabre scene, revealing the beasts died from slashes to their throats and muzzles. A fresh kill, going by the smell and the moistness of the blood. Killed within only the last hour or so. However, the jackals had advanced in their decay, yet no carrion feasted on them. The hair stood up on the back of Alia¡¯s neck. Inside the salt circle lay two swirls of fabric. Alia used the muzzle of her pistol to lift a piece of cloth. A dress, the old-fashioned kind she saw in paintings, or during festival season when old Pelasgian plays were staged. The second swirl proved to be the same. Neither dress showed signs of tearing or ripping, as if the owners had voluntarily shed them. But for what purpose? And what did that purpose have to do with killing the jackals? Had the women inside the circle killed them? But why were the jackals there in the first place? The city¡¯s position did not make it possible for the jackals to randomly enter unnoticed. Someone would have had to bring them. Why? The empty gowns offered no answers. Pelasgians of old may have shed their clothes during a fight, but who took off their clothes when jackals were around? ¡­the queen demanded a ritual desecration of my body¡­ Alia ran her Ellura No. 8 over the salt. ¡°Holy salt.¡± Fascinating. Who used holy anything to hold mere jackals at bay? Then again, the very presence of the jackals signaled something unnatural was afoot. And their intended victims were armed with a quantity of holy salt. Again, an unnatural happenstance. So. Perhaps one of Zephyra¡¯s henchmen had selected the women as prey, but the women had reversed their fortunes and became the hunters instead? A vulpine smile flashed like lightning across Alia¡¯s face as she contemplated the possibility. She ran the Ellura over the dresses; this time to record the auras of the women. Quickly, she took flight, letting the Ellura guide her. The auras led her to yet another strange sight: a trio of dead owls and a trail of blood. So. A second falconer was involved. Alia examined the owls with haste. They looked as they ought, which suggested the falconer had summoned them at the last moment, rather than procured in advance as the jackals must have been. Alia narrowed her eyes, thinking of the protector¡¯s gambit during the festival. What was the plan? To have a beastmaster set the jackals upon the foreign women he had meant for the crowd to kill? The jackals¡¯ unnatural presence, and their kills could have been passed off as some sort of divine punishment. Would anyone in Elamis have suspected their protector would set out to kill random strangers? No, too frightening a thought. People would have wanted to believe he enjoyed the protection of the gods, and the gods would have sent the jackals to slay his enemies. Divine protection meant he remained worthy of his peoples¡¯ obedience. A pass of the Ellura confirmed the blood trail belonged to a third aura, a sorcerer. A beastmaster for certain, she judged. His blood trail went down a ways, and Alia was satisfied to see the previous two auras ran parallel to it. The possibility of finding allies equal to the task of dealing with Zephyra¡¯s minions spurred her on. A tower peeked out over the trees, and Alia slowed her gryphon a little. Currently the roof was empty. Currently. Her attention had been elsewhere, after all. Someone could have been watching her without her noticing. If so, her approach would not be unexpected. The mysterious women must have suspected a trap as well, for their auras veered off, even though the beastmaster¡¯s blood trail remained in plain sight. They had hidden amongst the trees for a time. Alia¡¯s heart began to pound when the Ellura alerted her of a fourth aura which joined theirs. Her heart somersaulted when the Ellura revealed who the aura belonged to. ¡°Aunt Nalini!¡± Chapter 22: In the Tower Chapter XXII In the Tower In which a soldier faces the error of his ways Alia¡¯s heart somersaulted, and her hands shook as she ran the Ellura again. The auras of Aunt Nalini and the two women were suffused with terror, in shades of greys and steely blues. Something had frightened the three of them. Then, all at once, the answer came to her. The shades! Oh Huntress help her, of course. Not only would her aunt and the women have seen the ghosts, but they also may have encountered the horsemen she¡¯d sent fleeing. Her second boundary included this part of the park; the shades could have come this far. But why was Aunt Nalini afraid? What happened to her to make her weak enough to fear either shades or man? The Ellura revealed a muddled grey aura, an indication Aunt Nalini was not well. Whatever the Handmaiden had done to her, it left her vulnerable enough to know fear. When she ran the Ellura over the slope, and along the trail, a picture emerged: The women had attempted to flee, but were intercepted by the bearers of auras from the same side of the lane as the tower. Alia stared down the confusion of footprints in the dirt lane. Footprints which ended with the wooden doors of the tower. Her fingers tightened on her reins. Aunt Nalini was trapped within that mass of cold stone. As were their enemies. But allies also, perhaps. The latter meant she would not be alone when she made her move. Every instinct told her Aunt Nalini needed her now; attempting to fetch Sheridan and Tregarde would expend time she did not have. Alia glared at the door. Though neither dryad nor sorceress, she still enjoyed options, as a priestess. What she faced was an ordinary door with an ordinary lock; the Ellura confirmed it so. Wood, not iron. Options, therefore. Clutching her amulet, she focused all of her will upon the door. ¡°I curse you now, in the name of the Huntress. A seed you once were, dead you are now, and like the dead, you shall wither!¡± Smokeless. The door crumbled to ash in a smokeless heap, which fascinated Alia on the rare occasions she invoked the curse. No scent of burning, either. Iron fittings and hinges clattered to wooden floor of the anteroom. Wincing, Alia waited to see who would respond to the noise. When no one arrived, she steeled herself and stepped over the threshold. A lone candle kept the anteroom dimly lit, showing a single door leading to the inner tower. The bare room held only a scrap of a rug and an iron chandelier overhead, which held the lone candle. A plain, serviceable room. Looks could be deceiving. Alia put her hand to her pistol, in its scabbard on her belt. Then she shook herself, remembering the holy salt in the circle. The women must have anticipated encounters with arsha¡¯t?m or other Erebossi. They used their salt to successfully repel jackals, a strong indication the jackals must have been possessed. How much more warning did she need? Am I in the lair of the queen? Alia shivered, and drew her moonbow-steel knives instead. The opalescent sheen on the blades reassured her an arsha¡¯t?m wasn¡¯t close at hand, for the blades would have glowed with a white halo if so. She exhaled, not realizing she¡¯d been holding her breath. Re-sheathing her knives, she stepped forward. Her stomach plunged, along with the rest of her as the floor dropped from beneath her. A void appeared below her feet. Pure darkness hurtled towards her. The scream barely escaped her throat before everything went black.
Darkness. And pain. And cold. Not just beneath her, but all around. Alia clenched her teeth and tried her best to keep from shivering; it would only aggravate the pain. I have got to stop waking up like this, she scolded herself. Agony radiated from her hip, shooting up the entire left side of her body, and screaming out more acutely on her left arm. Ah, so she had landed on her side. Alia gingerly rolled onto her back. She let out a quiet exhale as a wave of pain came over her. When the wave ebbed she allowed herself to probe her arm and hip. Nothing broken, thank the Huntress. Exhaling again, she began to psych herself up to rise from the stone floor. Her every move was slow, deliberate, and required her to ride out subsequent waves of pain. When at last she gained her feet, she massaged her arm and assessed her situation. She had fallen through a trap door. A conclusion that left her marveling and bewildered all at once. Why place a trap door in the antechamber? A dim light glowed in the distance, enough to let her see she was not in a prison cell. Rather, she seemed to be at the end of a corridor, a long one, judging by the distance of the light. Trepidation grew inside her. Had she fallen into a room, a prison cell, the trapdoor would make sense. But a corridor? Perhaps the trap door hurled her into a dungeon with terrifying sentinels¡­ Her Ellura remained unbroken, and Alia said a prayer of thanks to the Huntress before she activated it. The Ellura assured her nothing magical lurked in the hall. Traps could be mechanical, though, just like the trapdoor. The faint glow up ahead may be enticement into another trap. However, the glow of the Ellura¡¯s lights told her she must go forward. Remaining in place would allow a patrolling sentinel to corner her. For a moment Alia tried to decide if she should let the Ellura light her way, and thus announce her approach to whoever might be at the end of the hall, or take the chance that she could move stealthily down the hall. But common sense reasserted itself. Her screams as she fell would have alerted the denizens of the dungeon to her presence. Surprise was not an option, what mattered now was reaching the light ahead in one piece. Pain dogged her steps, as did her fear, but Alia refused to step more than one foot ahead at any time. At least she treaded soundlessly, in keeping with what her mother and aunts taught her. The thought stopped her cold for a moment. Shahin¡¯s words echoed in her mind. Was it true that dryads didn¡¯t foster humans into adulthood? Did Samara keep her solely out of affection? Or was it because Alia proved herself an apt pupil in their training of her in the ways of the Exalted Mother? Or another reason altogether? Aunt Nalini would know. She would talk. As she walked, Alia forced herself to remain calm. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. When calm washed over she turned her attention to her surroundings. In this place of all places, she must keep her wits about her. At long last she reached the light, an oil lantern as it turned out. One which marked the end of her corridor, and the beginning of another. More lights punctuated this next path. And cells. Iron bars lined the left side of the hall. Did one of them contain her aunt? Alia crept along, keeping to the same caution she¡¯d been using down the first hall. Thick layers of dust covered the floors of every cell; no one had been inside them recently. As she passed each cell she counted, excitement and fear battling within her with each one she looked into. But at last she came to it. Someone had not quite done their research. This cell used a door and a floor of iron, a sensible precaution for imprisoning a dryad: they governed the wild and uncultivated, not that which had been wrought by humans. But stones were within a dryad¡¯s power, and just as Alia had withered the door, Aunt Nalini could pulverize stone. The people who imprisoned her here thought the iron bars would check her power. But a heap of gravel told the tale: here remained the stones which once held the iron. Here also lay the door, fallen against one wall. Aunt Nalini had been captive here. She¡¯d possessed enough strength to effect an escape, but not enough to secure it. Alia trembled, this time in rage. Any dryad could shake the ground, summon a snowstorm in midsummer, and change a dragon to an insect to be squashed beneath her feet. But that was before the blight. Before the sorcerers poisoned the grove. Before the infernal queen set her followers against the daughters of the Huntress. She prayed, ¡°Dear Huntress, I beg of You: give me the strength to kill every servant of Your enemy. Make my hands swift, my eyes sharp, and my aim true.¡± A sound answered her, making Alia nearly jump out of her own skin. Clank clang. Clank clang. Clank clang. Armored feet against stone. Alia drew her daggers, and stepped into the cell. She didn¡¯t have to wait long. Soon enough the bearer of the armor came into view. An ordinary man, armored like the soldiers she¡¯d dealt with earlier. With a swing of her arm his head went rolling to the floor, making quite the racket as his helmet met the stones. She didn¡¯t need him at her back while she searched the dungeon, and no one who dared to imprison a dryad would deal gently with a priestess of the Huntress, either. His heavy corpse obliged her to drag, kick, and finally shove his body into the cell. Last she tossed his head upon the cot. Hopefully, his fellow guardsmen would not discover him right away, which should buy her time. Now she waited, alert for other sounds. No footsteps echoed, so she continued on her way. However, a mix of auras was confusing the Ellura, and she sighed. Until now, she believed the Ellura No. 8 to be cutting edge, but now she saw room for improvement. The Ellura company loved it when she sent them after action reports about how their products performed in the field. Time for her to make a few feature requests for an Ellura No. 9. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. At least the confusion of new auras did not prevent the Ellura from remaining locked on the original two auras she was tracking. The mysterious women were here. Deeper within, but here. The Ellura led her on. On occasion faint voices made their way to her ears, down corridors she hadn¡¯t taken, but they were always great enough in number that she decided against confrontation. The Ellura¡¯s clicks grew stronger, and Alia mentally put in for another feature request: a silent mode on the detector. She turned it off; the voices she¡¯d heard were growing louder, too. Now had come the time for stealth.
The night was a disaster for Farrokh, captain of Protector Amavand¡¯s Manticoran Guard. First, those damnable ghosts. To see the enemies he¡¯d killed appear in that clearing¡ªas if someone had reached into his nightmares and plucked out the thing he¡¯d feared most. The shades were relentless, stalking him and his men tirelessly through the park. The ghosts didn¡¯t cease to give chase, until¡ªuntil they came to her. They found a dryad in the woods. A dryad. Farrokh shook himself, silently begging the gods to take him as far from here as possible. Protector Amavand had said¡ªand the Handmaiden had said, that a human huntress sent the eagle to humiliate Protector Amavand during the festival. ¡°Catch her or kill her, but bring her here with all speed,¡± the Protector had commanded. Which made sense. The world was working as it should be. But now, he wondered. Rumors echoed in his mind. Rumors he once carefully ignored, about the dryads. For some incomprehensible reason the Protector was obsessed with dryads. Incomprehensible it would forever be, because asking for clarity meant becoming one of the Disappeared. Farrokh had been willing to play along; he was a soldier of Elamis and he¡¯d sworn loyalty to the protector of Elamis. Until death, he would keep his oath. But the whispers he heard, the quiet palace rumors, hinted dryads possessed a power beyond caring for trees. Memories flickered, and half-remembered legends came to the forefront of his mind. One in particular stood out sharply when he saw her. When dryads crossed paths with ghosts, said the legends, they would take it upon themselves to guide the lost souls to Erebossa. When he saw the dryad, it dawned on him that if they could ferry the dead in one direction, they could ferry them in the opposite direction as well. Shudders rippled along the length of his body. The Eitanite cocked her head at him, snapping him out of his reverie. The foreign woman claimed she was not a huntress, yet she carried the same knives wielded by the Huntress, forged of precious moonbow steel. Furthermore, she had cut down several of his men with those knives ¡­ and she¡¯d been with the dryad. A daughter of the Huntress. Too many coincidences. And when the ghosts faded to nothingness at a word from the dryad, it was all he could do not to fall to the creature¡¯s feet then and there. You should have, the voice in his head told him. Her voice? His own? For months now he¡¯d felt as if doors were slamming shut, and walls were closing in. Traps and snares yawned ahead. He felt as if a knife were poised behind his neck. Tonight, tonight he would pay for his loyalty to the lord of Elamis. He felt it in his bones. ¡°They¡¯ve contacted the Handmaiden,¡± Rewniz said, coming back into the room. ¡°She will come.¡± ¡°Shut the door,¡± Farrokh said quickly. As a boy, he could not sleep unless he knew the monsters were all shut out of his bedroom. In those days he would contemplate barring the door, except he worried he was trapping himself inside with the monsters, if they should materialize. A perverse mirth bubbled inside him, but he managed to keep from laughing. Would his boyhood instincts save him now? He resisted the urge to ask Rewniz to lock the door. The dryad was in here with them, after all. She eyed him balefully, from her position on the floor. Farrokh¡¯s men took care not to touch her. She¡¯d only come with them peacefully because Farrokh had been smart enough to promise to find a healer for the pale foreigner, who did not carry Huntress knives at all. But the dryad was not appeased. At her command, his horse threw him off; so also were his men thrown from their horses. Worse, the horses fled, in the opposite direction of the palace. Would they run all the way out of the city, and into the desert? ¡°If you would have my mercy, you will kill the ones who come through that door,¡± the dryad said to them, in a voice as cold as winter. She pointed to the tower, and dismay grew in Farrokh¡¯s heart. Obedience was not so simple¡ªthe Handmaiden¡¯s apothecary had been one of those who exited the door. Farrokh trembled to think of how she¡¯d react when she learned he¡¯d killed her manservant. But the dryad was here, right now, and she had commanded the horses to overthrow their riders and they did, and she had commanded the dead to go back to Erebossa, and they did. Let the Handmaiden confront her, he told himself. Let¡¯s see if she would do better. Dread would not leave his stomach. He could think those words, but not say them aloud. Rewniz was talking, addressing himself to the women. ¡°Are you them?¡± he demanded, favoring first one then the other with a forbidding glare. Farrokh noticed he did not dare look at the dryad. Rewniz raised his voice, repeating the question. The women looked at each other, but did not appear impressed by Rewniz. They focused on the dryad instead. ¡°I don¡¯t think they speak our language,¡± Farrokh said, affecting a bored tone. Rewniz blinked, considering it. ¡°Oh right. Protector Amavand said they would be foreigners.¡± He gamely tried Pelasgian. The Eitanite looked at him. ¡°Perhaps explain what you mean by ¡®them,¡¯¡± Farrokh suggested. He kept an eye to the door. If he left the room ¡­ how fast could he walk? He¡¯d have to walk away with just what he wore on his back. He couldn¡¯t even risk going home for a change of clothes or to get supplies suitable for a trek through the desert. Would it be better to die of thirst, or from the sting of any wild manticores he¡¯d encounter out there? How could it be worse than what the Handmaiden would do to him? Or what the dryad would do to him? And as for the dryad, her peaceable behavior aroused only suspicion and terror. Why was she quiescent? Did she need to gather her strength to open a portal to the Abyss? Would she throw him into it? Rewniz expanded his inquiry to the women. ¡°Are you the ones here to kill Protector Amavand?¡± The pale one replied, ¡°Little man, if we were planning to kill your leader why would we tell you?¡± Rewniz flinched, rocking back on his heels slightly. The woman and her Eitanite companion loomed over him when they were standing, but even sitting down she still seemed to look down her nose at him. ¡°Our job is to hold them, Rewniz,¡± Farrokh said, in Anshani. He glanced at the dryad, a silent reminder she could speak Anshani. For all he knew she could speak every language humans spoke. Farrokh continued, ¡°Let the Handmaiden deal with them.¡± Rewniz rounded on him. ¡°Do you think we will survive this night if we don¡¯t give the Handmaiden a reason to think well of us? After tonight¡¯s debacle¡ª¡± ¡°What debacle?¡± Farrokh interrupted. ¡°We¡¯ve captured the one who humiliated Protector Amavand. Who else could have sent that eagle at this time of night? Who else could make the eagle refuse to obey our beastmaster? The dryad did these things, and she is here. We¡¯ve carried out our orders.¡± ¡°And killed the Handmaiden¡¯s men,¡± Rewniz reminded him. ¡°We killed them in obedience to the very enemy she told us to find. So you tell me, seriously, how is that supposed to go for us? Think the Handmaiden will overlook that?¡± ¡°We have the dryad. And two foreign women caught with the dryad,¡± Farrokh insisted, more to convince himself than Rewniz. ¡°And if the Handmaiden asks, the women killed her men. Simple as that.¡± ¡°The truth-seers?¡± Oh. Them. Well. Farrokh shrugged. The Handmaiden would employ torture for her interrogation, not seers, would she not? An example would need to be made of the foreign women, and to be gentle with them would invite scrutiny. The would-be murderers of Protector Amavand would be publicly humiliated and executed. But the dryad¡­ All knowledge of her would be ruthlessly suppressed. In the first place, no one would accept killing the daughter of the Huntress. In the second place, the dryad¡¯s involvement would only strengthen the meaning of what the eagle did with the diadem. The meaning¡­ At last Farrokh knew why he was scared. Not because of the Handmaiden. Rather because the daughter of a goddess had seen fit to repudiate the protector and bring the dead against his men. The dead that those men had slain on behalf of their lord. No matter what the Handmaiden would claim, that had to mean something. Upon death, the Abyss awaited him. This was the end to which he¡¯d brought himself. Not honor, not glory in life, nor triumphant entry to the Everlasting Lands in death. A lump rose in his throat. After an eternity, he managed to articulate an answer for Rewniz. ¡°I give you leave,¡± Farrokh said, surprising himself by speaking in a firm voice. Rewniz did a double take. ¡°Leave?¡± ¡°I am the captain,¡± Farrokh said. ¡°All that has happened is my responsibility, and I will bear the consequences. If you aren¡¯t here when the Handmaiden arrives, you¡ªyou may yet live. Go now, Rewniz. Leave this city if you can.¡± He wanted to tell the man to go to a temple, any temple, and throw himself at the mercy of the gods. But to say that aloud would cost him what little remained of his strength of will. Rewniz¡¯s lips tightened, a sure sign of his impending mulishness. He was stubborn, was Rewniz, but he was not even Farrokh¡¯s right-hand man. The young man only came to the guard because of his father¡¯s influence, not his own talents. His modest abilities ensured he did not sit high enough in anyone¡¯s council to be so tainted as Farrokh. Maybe. Hopefully. ¡°I order it, Rewniz. Go now.¡± Rewniz shifted his weight on his feet. He kept looking back and forth from the women to Farrokh, and with the barest of glances, to the dryad. ¡°Where am I to go?¡± ¡°To our shahanshah.¡± The only one who could offer him protection from the Protector of Elamis. Maybe. Maybe the high king employed priests and sorcerers who could handle this so-called goddess the Handmaiden served. There would certainly be no hope, no help for him here. Rewniz started to speak, when Farrokh quickly added, ¡°You had best go before the city¡¯s gates close for good. If you go now, while you wear the armor, you will be allowed to pass without question. But you must go now.¡± At last Rewniz moved. He threw open the door, but glanced back at Farrokh. His lips moved, but what came out was a sharp gasp. The young soldier¡¯s body stiffened, and his eyes rounded in astonishment and alarm. He looked up at Farrokh, silently beseeching him, before turning his head to something in the hall. Time stopped. Farrokh froze. Only his heart still moved, and for how long? Was the Handmaiden¡ª? Then Rewniz took one step back, allowing Farrokh to see the long blade planted in his chest, and the gloved hand holding the handle. Farrokh inhaled. She heard everything, she will¡ª She crossed the threshold. It took Farrokh several seconds to get past the implacable fury on her face to realize there was something wrong with her appearance. Her arms were sheathed in a strange material he didn¡¯t recognize, but he did recognize their forest green color and their falconer¡¯s shape. The gleaming gold armlets carved to suggest an eagle¡¯s wing, the amulet¡­ Oh by the gods, Farrokh thought, glancing at the dryad. This woman was not the Handmaiden, after all. But he didn¡¯t feel any safer when he realized what she was. A huntress. Chapter 23: A Burden Laid Down, and a Burden Lifted Up Chapter XXIII A Burden Laid Down, and a Burden Lifted Up In which a dryad reveals secrets, both fair and foul Edana sat up straighter, startled. From her place on a blue floral rug she had kept watch on the dryad, whom she¡¯d designated the most dangerous person in the room. Never having seen one, she had no idea how to ¡®read¡¯ them, but this one before her now behaved as if she were in a waking dream. The dryad¡¯s movements had been slow, and her pale peridot eyes were glassy as she stared vacantly into the distance. The nymph made no attempt to speak to them; once she gave the orders for the soldiers to kill the tower people she had stopped talking altogether. Inside the tower, the soldiers had herded them to the apparent office of the elder soldier. Grey flecks salted his black hair, revealed when he took off his conical helmet and set it on his desk. Compared to the others he wore the fanciest armor, with gold-plated greaves and vambraces, and a cuirass embossed with a rampant manticore. And at his waist, a fancy red silk sash fringed with gold. The elder officer seemed to address the dryad, saying something in Anshani and pointing to a leather chair in the corner of his office. But she drifted past it and gracefully sank to the wooden floor instead. There she sat, with her knees drawn up to her chin. To Edana and Bessa he indicated the luxuriant rug a few feet from the nymph. Edana had settled on her knees, a position she could rise quickly enough from if she needed to. However, the soldiers acted jumpy and nervous, pacing about the room in the case of the younger man. Or rifling endlessly through the desk, in the case of the senior man. Which made sense; they ought to be afraid, so Edana did not concern herself over them. If they feared crossing a dryad, and the supposed companions of a dryad, then they were ordinary men who lacked the power or will to harm her and Bessa. Thus, she took the time to study the mysterious dryad. Who did not look like a walking tree at all, but rather like a woman with fascinating hair which fell about her like a shawl. As a little girl Edana had imagined dryads to have green hair, like tree leaves. But this one¡¯s was parti-colored: snow white streaks threatened to overtake lesser streaks of pale yellow mixed with delicate apple green. More, she gave off the faint aroma of citrus. Regardless of the noise and chatter of the men, the dryad never looked at them. Until, that is, one of them started edging for the door. At once her gaze sharpened. Without turning her head, her eyes slid in the direction of the door. Did she sense or hear someone approaching? Ignoring the men, Edana focused all of her attention on the door. Then the young man stepped out ¡­ ¡­ and the huntress stepped in. Edana¡¯s heart leapt. A Ta-Setian huntress! Surely this was she whom the Fire Lords advised them to seek. But the dryad was rising now, and Edana was no longer as sure of how safe she and Bessa would be. ¡°Stop!¡± cried the senior officer, in Ta-Setian. Edana knew just enough of the language to understand when he added, ¡°We mean you no harm.¡± The huntress cocked her head, and pointed her second knife at him. He instantly quieted, and kept his hands raised. The younger soldier, the one who¡¯d made the lame attempt to interrogate her and Bessa, began to expire. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. Almost absently, the huntress jerked her blade from his heart and let him fall. ¡°Aunt Nalini,¡± she said, in oddly accented Pelasgian. Edana did a double take, and exchanged a glance with Bessa. Maybe it wasn¡¯t out of the realm of possibility for a dryad and a huntress to form a bond, but aunt? The dryad stretched out a hand to the huntress. In two long strides the huntress reached her and embraced her gently in a hug. However, she did not forget the soldier, underscoring her attention by pointing her bloody knife at him from behind the dryad¡¯s back. ¡°Sweet Alia. Sweet child, I knew you would come,¡± said the dryad¡ªNalini¡ª in a voice choked with tears. The other one what? Silently, Edana tried to work out why the dryad called the huntress, ¡°the other one.¡± Whoever she was, her presence filled the room. The casual way she conversed with a nymph, and so fearlessly held a senior military officer at bay suggested she may have been the second most dangerous person in the room. ¡°What have they done to you, Auntie?¡± the huntress demanded, when Nalini finally released her. ¡°Junius is dead, do you know? Rikka called the flayers, and I¡¯ve captured his men¡ªthe ones at home. Are there any enemies left here in the tower?¡± Nalini smiled, though her eyes darkened with weariness. ¡°Yes, I sense them. These soldiers held me here for a purpose¡ª¡± the dryad broke off, and stared at the remaining officer. ¡°I know about the queen,¡± the huntress said quietly. ¡°Do you know her name? Did they say?¡± But Nalini did not. ¡°I must speak¡ªbut not in the presence of¡ª¡± She swayed on her feet a little, and clasped both hands on the shoulders of the huntress. Again she inclined her head to the soldier. ¡°I will leave,¡± he said quickly. Both Edana and the huntress narrowed their eyes at him. Did he take them for fools? If he left, wouldn¡¯t he summon reinforcements? In response, the huntress sheathed her clean knife. Wait, was she really going to trust this man? But then, her hand moved to a second sheath, and she brought forth a strange object, one Edana sensed must be a weapon of some sort. A gold dragon hugged the top of a tube of hollow ivory. By the sheen of it she suspected it was dragon ivory, fitting for a huntress. The huntress gripped the handle of the tube, and touched her thumb to a gold embellishment that projected up. A dragon claw rearing back. ¡°You work for the Handmaiden,¡± the huntress accused, her voice as frostbite. ¡°By her command you murdered many innocents. Do not deny it. I only need to leave one of you people alive. You are not that one. Tell me the name of her false goddess if you would live.¡± The man dropped to his knees, his greaves cling-clanging against the wooden floor. Profound defeat and sorrow etched themselves all over his face. Then he lowered his head, bowing once to the woman. ¡°I will pay for my transgressions, huntress. I cannot atone. I cannot help you. Just make it clean.¡± Bang! Edana jumped, clutching her stomach. Bessa shrieked. Down the soldier fell, face forward, concealing the small hole that suddenly appeared in his forehead. Blood pooled out from the hole, spreading on the floor, but stopping before it could reach the boots of the huntress. In shock and fear Edana stared at the corpse. What sorcery was this? Like the giants at Red Point and Abris, the huntress killed with a mere sound. A sound which left no obvious means of defense against it. And what was the weapon which issued the sound? Bessa referred to the giants¡¯ lightning weapons as thunder maces. The huntress wielded a different kind of thunder weapon, but it looked nothing at all like a mace. But it did kill as fast as lightning. Bessa¡¯s shriek drew the attention of the woman. Now she eyed them with interest, but with neither heat nor malice. Nevertheless, Edana shot up to her feet. She gripped Bessa¡¯s uninjured arm and helped her to stand up as well. ¡°You killed the jackals?¡± The only emotion in the woman¡¯s voice was curiosity. To Edana¡¯s relief she sheathed her thunder weapon, then bent over the senior officer. As it turned out, she used his sash to clean her knife. Edana used the opportunity to weigh her response. From what she heard of either dryads or venatori they held golden eagles sacred, as well as certain types of prey animals. But she¡¯d never heard of them having an affinity for jackals. ¡°A beastmaster set them on us, to kill us. They were possessed by fellshades.¡± The huntress looked them up and down, her gaze lingering on their trousers. Apparently amused, she smiled as she slipped her now-clean knife into its scabbard. ¡°But surely you are hunting fellshades, aren¡¯t you?¡± she asked. ¡°You used holy salt, after all.¡± Bessa spoke at last. ¡°Are you from Lyrcania?¡± ¡°I am.¡± ¡°Then we need to talk.¡±
A mix of emotions swirled in Alia¡¯s heart. Giddiness at finding Aunt Nalini, triumph for what she uncovered of her enemies, and intrigue at the strange women held captive alongside Nalini. And now, one of them was promising more information. However, before she could ask a question, Aunt Nalini said, ¡°Time enough you will have for that,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Attend to my words. Alia, child, I must rest.¡± Alia looked over her aunt once more. No longer did she stand tall and regal. Now she stooped slightly, hugging herself, as if trying to make herself seem small. Dryads needed sunlight for their sustenance, but Aunt Nalini¡¯s parched skin served as testament to her imprisonment in a dark cell. As did her gaunt face and the way she constantly blinked, as if the light hurt her eyes. So frail she seemed! Oh, what did the Handmaiden do to her? And how might Alia punish her for it? Revenge could wait. Alia hastened to obey her aunt, dragging a leather chair closer to her. Gently, she encircled Aunt Nalini in her arms and helped her into the chair. Kneeling down, she put herself at eye level with her aunt. ¡°Auntie. Is there anything I can do for you? Once you¡¯re back in the grove¡ª?¡± Aunt Nalini shook her head, cutting her off. ¡°That must never be, child. I am tainted now. To go home is to hasten death to my sisters. Even Rikka, strongest of us all. This is the wish of the bel nakri¡ªa queen of Erebossa. So long has she sought our end, and at last it comes.¡± The words landed in Alia¡¯s consciousness like a slap, one so vicious she physically recoiled. Did she hear Aunt Nalini correctly? ¡°You¡¯re¡ªyou¡¯re all dying? My mother, too? All of you?¡± Her voice shook. In her mind¡¯s eye she instantly re-lived her childhood. Mother¡¯s loving caresses when Alia was sick or frightened. Aunt Xylia telling her exciting adventure stories while braiding her hair. Aunt Chrysantha teaching her to use a bow. Her mother and her aunts filled her life with so much joy and wisdom. Because of them she belonged somewhere. They were her home. Her family. Her purpose in life. When she left the grove to investigate the blight, she did so assuming she would find a way to restore the dryads¡¯ powers. Because of course they would not die. Immortals did not die, especially not Mother. Especially not Mother! ¡°Oh, child. Did you not know?¡± Aunt Nalini¡¯s gaze softened. The look told her everything. Denial crumbled in the face of Aunt Nalini¡¯s pity. Rage and despair took its place. ¡°No! I thought¡ªI thought¡ªcan¡¯t I save you?¡± ¡°My sisters? Time remains, for you to save them. For me?¡± The question hung between them, and an awful silence descended in the room. Ideas, plans jumbled themselves in Alia¡¯s mind as she tried to sort out which plan, which option would result in restoring Aunt Nalini to full health and immortality. Then she glanced at the satchel on her hip, and remembered suddenly the silver vial she kept in it. With shaking hands she took out the vial and presented it to Aunt Nalini. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°This is the ichor of the ¡®bel nakri¡¯ in question. Is this what the sorcerers used to poison your groves? Did the Handmaiden poison you with this?¡± Aunt Nalini grimaced and shrank away from the vial. Alia immediately put it away. ¡°The one you call ¡®Handmaiden¡¯ is only a toy, for she is manipulated like the toys I made for you in your sapling time. She is herself a corruption, for she has been turned against her true purpose. When you find her, she is not yours to kill. That is not your task, child of my sister.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Hatred vibrated in her voice. ¡°For what she did to you¡ª¡± ¡°This is the will of my Mother!¡± Raising her voice seemed to cost Aunt Nalini her strength, for she sank deeper into her chair. Closing her eyes she added, ¡°I go to Her side. This night, sweet one, I go to Her side. Now attend, as my sister taught you. You were a good sapling, and it has brought me joy to know you.¡± Alia clasped her hands over Aunt Nalini¡¯s. So cold her aunt felt. As tenderly as she could, Alia began to chafe her aunt¡¯s hand, trying to impart her own warmth to her. But then Aunt Nalini placed her free hand atop Alia¡¯s. Slowly she opened her eyes, and fastened them on upon her. ¡°You protect. That is your purpose,¡± Aunt Nalini began. With a lift of her chin she indicated the foreigner with bright copper hair and the injured arm. ¡°That one sows and reaps, not only of the soil but of words and deeds. And this one¡±¡ªshe turned to face the foreigner with cinnabar hair and daggers identical to Alia¡¯s¡ª¡°this one hears the words of the Great One, the Sower. But the Handmaiden is corrupted: she takes. She destroys. She brings only death and decay. That is not her purpose. Turn her back to her purpose, and you will save my sisters.¡± ¡°Are you saying she¡¯s an evil Restorite? Then why not attack the springs of the naiads?¡± ¡°Because someone else already has, if not her,¡± said the woman with cinnabar hair. ¡°In Rasena Valentis.¡± Rasena Valentis? Confirmation yet again of the vast scope of the quest before her. Right now she didn''t care. Right now she needed to know how to heal Aunt Nalini and her aunts, and nothing else mattered besides that. Nevertheless, Alia forced herself to take in the strange report, of naiad springs diminishing in power. ¡°Alright, if a Restorite can help, why not let me fetch you one? Why the Handmaiden?¡± Though she addressed her aunt, the one with cinnabar-hair answered her. ¡°Because there¡¯s a Presence, an interceptor, cutting off the sorcerers from the spirits. They may not have the power any longer to undo whatever this ¡®handmaiden¡¯ did to the groves. We wondered if the daughters of the Huntress would be attacked. And now we know. And apparently there is an eighth fellshade we did not know about.¡± Quick as a bolt of lightning, Alia rose up. ¡°Who are you? Who is this we? And what made you think the dryads would be under attack? Are you also hunting the queen? There are seven more fellshades involved?¡± ¡°That¡¯s why we need to talk to you,¡± said the one with copper hair. ¡°I¡¯m Bessa, and she¡¯s Edana. And you have to be the Ta-Setian huntress we were told to find. The Fire Lords in this city will vouch for us. The Fire Lords are the priest-governors of the Salamandra, if you did not know, huntress.¡± The claim now, of a prophecy involving three women destroying Protector Amavand, made much more sense now. The only sliver of joy she could extract at this moment, because the man deserved everything he had coming to him. ¡°I know of them. And I am Alia Ironwing.¡± With her hand still entwined with Aunt Nalini¡¯s, she could feel her aunt¡¯s strength ebbing. And Auntie wasn¡¯t fighting it. How much did she suffer, to want death? To prefer it? Part of Alia desperately wanted to prolong her aunt¡¯s presence as long as possible. And the other part of herself smote her conscience. Let her go. Do not be selfish. For several heartbeats Alia fought to control her grief. After a while she managed, ¡°Do you have more to tell me?¡± Aunt Nalini exhaled, then said, ¡°A favor to ask. They sent my seed to the Handmaiden. My captors brought it here, so I could survive the journey, now that the sorcerers have poisoned our grove. I sought to reclaim it, and for this purpose I escaped. My seed is the only part of me that is still pure. On this night of the solstice I sought to use the weakened boundary between Thuraia and Erebossa to travel to the palace. But I am too weak. And so I am captive again, as are these women. Yet, not in vain am I here, and it is this thought that gives me peace.¡± Bessa ventured to ask, ¡°Were you going to plant your seed in the park?¡± ¡°No, servant of the Reaper. I would not bear for a part of myself to take root in this cursed soil. With our seed, enemies can do more than hold us captive. They can plant that seed, and how it will grow¡ªthe sapling will not become as I and my sisters. She will be twisted, stunted, and defiled, made as the Erebossi will her to be.¡± Lore her mother and aunts taught her came to Alia then. Horror bloomed anew within her as she realized what her aunt was hinting at. But she could not bring herself to speak her suspicions aloud. ¡°Twisted and defiled¡­your sapling will become one of the nymphai infernales?¡± Bessa asked, unwittingly making Alia wince. In lessons on the Age of Iniquity, Mother told her of the nymphai infernales. They looked like women, but with poisonous prehensile vines in place of hair. Vines which they used to capture victims and suck the youth out of their bodies, leaving behind withered husks. The creatures were a mockery of true dryads in every way: predators rather than protectors; destroyers rather than nurturers of life. ¡°As you say, servant of the Reaper. As you say. It is they who poison the groves. That is why we are taken captive. For our seeds, as well as the sacrifice of our bodies.¡± Alia¡¯s heart sank as she realized the implications of what Aunt Nalini was telling her. Was there no hope left to her? No chance at all for any of the aunts to return home again? ¡°Auntie,¡± she faltered. ¡°Auntie, what can I do to change them back?¡± ¡°Send them to our Mother. If you love them, love who they were and do not spare them. Swear it, Alia.¡± Shocked, she gaped at her aunt. Did she hear what she thought she heard? But she must have, for Auntie¡¯s eyes glittered with unshed tears. ¡°Swear it, Alia.¡± But Alia could not force herself to speak the words. All of her adulthood she spent searching out her missing aunts. Every scenario of success involved rescuing them and bringing them home. When she allowed herself to consider failure, it simply meant a failure to find them. To take their lives? Kill the daughters of the Huntress? No such thought had ever entered her mind. Beseechingly she stared at her aunt. Who returned her stare with one of compassion. And determination. Some of Aunt Nalini¡¯s old steel reasserted herself in the set of her jaw, and Alia knew then the conviction behind her words. ¡°I swear it, Auntie. I ¡­ I will slay them.¡± ¡°Some have died already, to escape the evil done to them. They call to me, from our divine mother¡¯s side. They speak to me of a ruler named Amavand and his servants. Mother requires their lives, and will deliver them into your hands. From here, I can do nothing more to help you. Now. It is time. Let me go.¡± ¡°Wait¡ª!¡± Alia clasped Aunt Nalini¡¯s hand tightly, as if she could stop her death simply by taking hold of her. ¡°I must ask, I must know. Please, Aunt Nalini, please tell me: why was I kept so long? Who else was with me when you found me?¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Aunt Nalini¡¯s smile was sweet with reminiscence. ¡°You misunderstand, little one, the meaning of your name. In my sapling days, when I walked by my Mother¡¯s side, She brought word to us from the Seeker. We would be in great peril one day, a greater peril than any we ever faced before. There would be two born in this age who would save us. We would hear of one, but the other we would hold in our arms. You are that other. Before you drew breath, your mother and father dedicated you to the Huntress, in exchange for Her blessing. By Her will they gave you to us. I pray my Mother judges that we did well by you.¡± ¡°You have,¡± Alia said fiercely, and it was her turn to blink back tears. ¡°I love you.¡± Gathering her strength, Aunt Nalini rose from her chair. Her eyes had lost their dreaminess. Now she appeared fully alert. With incredible strength she embraced Alia in a bear hug. ¡°I will be with you in every caress of every breeze, in every perfume of every flower, in every song in every brook, in every drop of every rainfall. May you walk always with my Mother, dear one.¡± Bright light blinded her. It was hot as well as brilliant, as if a star had descended. The heat faded quickly, but it took several heartbeats for Alia to regain her sight. Only three of them left in the room. A room which held no sign of Auntie; gone now as if she had never been. Grief-stricken, Alia stood motionless. Cold sorrow washed over her, and she hugged herself. And then, at once, she felt a presence hovering near. An unexpected surge of warmth and affection, enveloping her like an embrace. She tilted up her face, and met with a spectral caress. The last remnant of Aunt Nalini¡¯s love. Though Alia closed her eyes it did not keep her tears from falling.
¡°We shouldn¡¯t stay here,¡± Edana said sometime later. For Alia¡¯s sake she kept her tone gentle. So far no footsteps sounded to indicate anyone coming to check on them, but prudence dictated quietness regardless. The huntress opened her eyes and wiped her tears. ¡°I must reload. Tell me what you know,¡± she said. Her voice was husky, but otherwise steady. Edana started to speak, then stopped when Alia again removed the thunder weapon from its sheath. Then she rummaged through her satchel, and began taking out strange items. One was a tube containing a long metal stick. The other was a vial which turned out to contain a black powder. She began pouring the vial into the tube of her thunder weapon. ¡°What is this weapon?¡± Edana asked. ¡°We call the giants¡¯ weapons thunder maces, though they shoot lightning. It is because of the sound they make when they do it.¡± Startled, Alia looked at her as if she had two heads. ¡°Giants?¡± ¡°Have they attacked Lyrcania yet?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°Were they supposed to?¡± Bessa caught Edana¡¯s eye. At Edana¡¯s gesture, Bessa took the floor and began to explain. First beginning with Lady Nensela¡¯s vision then expanding to the giants¡¯ attack on her vineyard, then on to the First Battle of Red Pointe. Through all of this Alia offered not a single comment. When Bessa came to their learning of Murena and the Five, Alia reacted. ¡°Murena! The eel.¡± ¡°So you know of him?¡± Bessa asked. By now Alia had finished a complicated ritual with the mysterious weapon, and was putting away the implements. ¡°I know nothing of your Murena, except for what I overheard when a fellshade spoke of him during the night the sky turned green.¡± ¡°We call it the Night of the Burning Sky,¡± Edana said. ¡°Works for me,¡± Alia said dryly, sheathing her weapon again. ¡°A small fellshade named Rihat said Murena was doing battle in the West, and that he would take down an enemy of the Erebossan queens. Did that happen? Do you know?¡± A wave of pain came over Edana then. She is not dead. Not yet. She is not past yet. Oh, Great Speaker, let it never be so. ¡°Lady Nensela of Ta-Seti,¡± Bessa answered for her. ¡°He tried to take her. Listen, there¡¯s more to tell you, but there¡¯s still a beastmaster here. The one who summoned the jackals and owls. We saw him go in, but he didn¡¯t come out of the tower when the others did. He was wounded. Edana cut off three of his fingers, and I slashed his back.¡± ¡°I would take a long nap in his place,¡± Alia said grimly. ¡°Let us assume he will be vulnerable. How did you get down here? I fell through a trap door.¡± Bessa¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°That only happens in stories! We took some stairs; nothing nearly so exciting.¡± ¡°Lead the way¡ªwhat are you doing?¡± She addressed Edana, who had bent to remove a signet ring from the lead soldier. ¡°In case we find a seer later. We can use this.¡± Edana held up the ring, then knotted it into the sash at her waist. ¡°Like Lady Nensela did,¡± Bessa said, nodding sagely. ¡°Damya, too. If only¡ªlet¡¯s go.¡± Edana smiled mirthlessly. ¡°If only. For now, this ring may also guarantee our safety in these halls, if it is attuned to any doors or wards.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± Alia said, nodding in understanding. ¡°Then get the other man¡¯s, too. We can¡¯t be too careful.¡± Edana did so. Once assured they needed nothing else from the dead they set out. In the dark corridor Alia promptly awed them by tapping a stick against the wall, causing a small light to appear at the tip. Though small, the light was powerful enough to illuminate the passage, allowing them to see further down the hall. Silence in the hall made Edana cringe at the sound of their footsteps. At least neither she nor Bessa wore hobnailed shoes, so their steps were softer than they might have been otherwise. Alia¡¯s boots intrigued her, for they were taller than any boots she¡¯d ever seen. And of a finer grade of leather, too. When they came to a set of stairs, Alia took the lead. This time she snuffed out the light wand, and they made their way in darkness. The door swung open easily enough. Men lay sprawled out on a long wooden table, an assortment of jugs and cups before them. Their snores told the tale. Alia ignored them, and continued on. Soon enough they came to a second set of stairs. Thus they found the beastmaster on the third floor. The sorcerer was fast asleep, just as Alia had assumed he would be. The scents in the room told them his sleep came courtesy of poppy juice. ¡°Let¡¯s see if there¡¯s anything we can use to get to the palace,¡± Alia suggested. ¡°To kill the protector?¡± Bessa asked. At Alia¡¯s look she added, ¡°The Fire Lords said he guards a nekromanteion, and we will have to kill him if we want to go through it. And they said we cannot kill him without your help.¡± A small laugh escaped Alia at this news. ¡°What is it?¡± Edana asked. ¡°Were you planning to kill the satrap?¡± ¡°Everything I¡¯ve done this whole night I did to avoid directly striking the Handmaiden,¡± Alia said, her voice tinged with amusement. ¡°Oh how I wish to kill her! But the Huntress disagrees, and so I must resist the temptation. But the point is that I thought killing her was too risky. I have no allies in Elamis, and I don¡¯t know the lay of the land. And now I¡¯m to kill a satrap. This death the Huntress will allow me, and I will obey Her straightaway. Oh, but wait until I tell the others.¡± ¡°What others?¡± Edana asked. Mentioning ¡®the others¡¯ seemed to remind Alia of something, for she straightened suddenly and said, ¡°Let us hurry. My companions are patrolling the city, in case the Handmaiden is seeking the sacrifices I denied her tonight. I want us to help them if they need it.¡± Bessa went over to the sleeping beastmaster and examined his intact hand. She removed the seal ring he wore, and a golden eagle amulet around his neck. Alia¡¯s gaze fastened upon the amulet. Bessa, seeing her interest, handed it to her. ¡°You sent the eagle? At the Everbright¡¯s Festival?¡± Edana asked. ¡°Yes,¡± Alia said, turning on her heel to head for the door. ¡°I¡¯m not a beastmaster, but I am a priestess and I can do works in the name of the Huntress. When I asked for the eagle I was thinking more of the Handmaiden. I did not know if the protector was her cat¡¯s paw or if she was his. Either way, he had to be stopped.¡± ¡°Then you have our thanks,¡± Edana replied, as Bessa fell into step with her. ¡°You¡¯ve saved us and many others.¡± Alia glanced back at them. ¡°Not yet, I haven¡¯t. And there is one more message I need to send.¡± She fingered the amulet and hurried down the stairs. Chapter 24: The Message Chapter XXIV The Message In which the Handmaiden is balked Everything was going wrong. The palace¡¯s chief healer had made short work of the lacerations on the protector¡¯s forehead, but what did it matter? Everyone had seen it happen; they¡¯d seen the eagle snatch the diadem. They¡¯d seen the great bird smash the scepter, the protector¡¯s staff of office. In the great hall Zephyra paced, letting everyone rush around her, to and fro. With great effort she refrained from curling her lip in contempt: they wanted to be seen to be busy, while in fact they were accomplishing nothing. Nothing at all. Frustrated, she ground her teeth. Why did this happen to her father? With a deep exhale she reminded herself that the Goddess included a huntress amongst her father¡¯s enemies. And therefore, Zephyra failed him, by failing to account for the abilities of a huntress, and thus the possible moves she might make against Protector Amavand. Beastmasters fell under the domain of the False One called the Huntress, so of course the wicked she-wolf could summon a golden eagle to humiliate and discredit him. What was it about golden eagles? Their keen sight allowed them to see extraordinary distances¡ªand so, perhaps, a huntress might see her enemy from a distance as well, and thus the trap she set for him. Golden eagles could strike without warning¡ªand so, perhaps, a huntress could strike swiftly, drawing first blood without fear of retribution. Vividly, she called to remembrance the image the Greatest One showed her, of the Ta-Setian huntress who dared to set herself against Protector Amavand and the Greatest One. ¡°She will fear me. She started this fight, and I will finish her. She will not kill my father,¡± Zephyra vowed. As for the other two she-wolves, where were they? Surely they took part in Roshanak¡¯s festival? It should have been easy to have them seized, then and there. But for the damned stunt with the eagle, they would have been seized. Because the huntress scrambled her plans, Zephyra resorted to ordering the city¡¯s gates closed. No one in or out. The soldiers would have to do door-to-door sweeps, whatever it took to find the Rasena Valentian she-wolves. Surely the innkeepers would turn them out, so they shouldn¡¯t be too hard to find. If. If the people of Elamis would cooperate. None of her plans included making the townspeople her enemy. No, she and her father intended to use the killing of the she-wolves as the opportunity, the opening her father needed to introduce the Elamisi to the Greatest One. The sound of a tumult reached her, and Zephyra raised her head to see the small crowd of guards gathered by the great door of the palace. ¡°I must see the king! Am I the last? I must see¡ª¡± the unseen man¡¯s shouting was cut off by one of the Manticoran guardsmen. ¡°Where are the others? The ones you were with, where are¡ª¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t they here? I have to warn¡ª¡± Patiently Zephyra waited. When one of the guards chanced to glance back and see her, she nodded. He gestured, and the others quickly subsided, all turning as one to see her. In the guards¡¯ midst stood one of their own. Pine needles and brambles clung to him, and his boots were caked with mud, as if he had been walking. Disgraceful. Absolutely disgraceful. What happened to his horse? She pointedly let her eyes linger on his filthy boots. The man flushed, seeing where her gaze went. He bowed, then thought better of it and dropped to one knee. ¡°Your Eminence,¡± he said to her, his head down. ¡°I am Nariman, son of Jandal.¡± Ostensibly his obeisance honored her, but she suspected he meant to cover his terror by avoiding her eyes. ¡°What is this warning you claim to have?¡± she asked, trying to keep her tone neutral. Let him read what he wished to into it. Let his own emotions carry him, not any actions of hers. ¡°I s-saw her, Your Eminence,¡± Nariman said, his voice shaking. ¡°Ahem.¡± ¡°Her?¡± ¡°The huntress you seek. I went with the others. The falconer led us to a mound, where the golden eagle was eating. It refused to come at the call of Marwan. We did not know¡ªwe did not guess¡ªwe went up on the mound, after Marwan. But it was a trap.¡± Zephyra let the words hang there, in the silence. All activity stopped in the hall. Everyone fixed their eyes on her, but she kept her eyes only on the soldier. ¡°What sort of trap?¡± The disgraced soldier swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. Then he squared his shoulders, perhaps gathering his courage. ¡°Shades appeared, Your Eminence. The shades of those we¡ªthose traitors we executed for our protector. They chased us from the hill.¡± ¡°And the huntress?¡± Again she kept her tone neutral, again allowing him to read whatever he liked into it. Nariman must have read something, for he shuddered. ¡°She cornered me when I attempted to escape. Two men accompanied her, Your Eminence. Huntsmen, I believe. All of them dressed in strange clothes, as people of Lyrcania are said to dress. So it is just as you said¡ª¡± ¡°And what did she say?¡± Zephyra cut in. ¡°At first she spoke to Hosh. The groundskeeper I executed. He told her things about you. And about your¡ªthe Greatest One. They say the dead know much, Your Eminence. And¡ªand he claimed to.¡± Now he dared to meet her eyes, just once, before looking back at the floor again. Zephyra said nothing, letting the silence stretch while she contemplated his words. So. Lyrcania? The huntress had come a long way, hunting her. Therefore, neither chance nor happenstance accounted for her presence. She must have known about the dryads. And thus sought to avenge them, in the name of her pathetic so-called goddess. ¡°What did she ask about?¡± She allowed herself to sound curious. ¡°Why I killed Hosh. Why you wanted him dead. What the Greatest One seeks. And she called the Greatest One a mere queen. Last she commanded Hosh to give a message to the Greatest One: that Alia Ironwing is coming for her. That is the name of your¡ªour quarry: Alia Ironwing.¡± Zephyra raised her eyebrows. What sort of name was Alia Ironwing? Iron? As in a sword? No, the venatori carried daggers. Daggers, as in a pair, though not forged from base iron. More, wing must refer to the golden eagle form the Huntress allegedly assumed. Her priests and sorcerers ranked themselves by raptor breeds. All the same, Alia was the other one, according to what her name meant. So there were at least two venatori to fear, perhaps? Do not focus so much on the open sword that you miss the hidden dagger. Such did her father teach her. Here and now, Ironwing represented the open sword, no doubt. Perhaps one of her men was the secret dagger? Did it matter that the Greatest One had not reckoned them in Her vision? This Ironwing did not fear to be in the open, but her partners remained hidden until now. Perhaps she was the other one to fear? Then who was the first? And what arrogance! To think she would dare set herself against a goddess! The stories were full of such like her, and every last one of them foretold a dreadful fate for this so-called iron woman. In what marvelous way would the Greatest One smite Ironwing? Would She allow Zephyra the pleasure of taking part in punishing her? ¡°And what did she say of the protector?¡± Zephyra demanded. ¡°Look at me. I will see your eyes. What did she say about my father?¡± Nariman¡¯s head jerked up. He struggled mightily to master himself, and prevailed, answering, ¡°She said nothing of His Majesty. All she commanded of me was to tell you of all she had done this night.¡± Oh, did she now? Such an obvious challenge. One Zephyra must answer, of course. Again she felt all eyes on her. Her heart sank, for she realized her blunder too late: she should have talked to Nariman alone. Likely the words he uttered here would spread abroad before even an hour passed. The fantastic nature of his story demanded to be spoken of, whether aloud or by whisper. Why hadn¡¯t he started with Alia¡¯s orders of him? Had he done so, Zephyra might have thought to silence him in time. Damn. Damn it all. The eagle attacking Protector Amavand, and how the people would see that attack, presented one problem. A problem not insurmountable for him. Publicly executing Ironwing would overturn the people¡¯s suspicions of her father. Of course, Ironwing would be made to publicly confess to scheming to kill the Protector of Elamis. Which Zephyra would use to further her father¡¯s greater plan of turning the people against the Huntress, the so-called Mother of Dryads. But the dead returning to avenge themselves? That presented a different problem. Worse, these were the dead whose deaths came at the command of Protector Amavand. Effectively, Ironwing managed to set up a gallows and place a noose around the protector. The people of Elamis would no longer be counted upon to mourn him, or to avenge his death. A muscle in Zephyra¡¯s cheek twitched. Oh, how she wished to dare to indulge in cursing Alia Ironwing just now. The she-wolf had struck openly, yet from the shadows. That she remained unseen at the moment of her attack, and had made her attack from a distance, would only add to what glamour the people would see in her, when the soldier¡¯s story spread. Instead of properly baying for her blood, the people would see her just as they were taught to see her, thanks to their foolish belief in the False Ones. ¡°Where did she go?¡± Nariman did not know. ¡°She flew away on her gryphon, Your Eminence. Our horses were frightened by the shades, and some of us were thrown off. So we couldn¡¯t track the huntress. But I think she may still be over the skies over the park.¡± Over the park? Was this another trap? Did she intend for Zephyra to come this time? What would happen then? What more would she do to destroy the peoples¡¯ perception of the protector? There was no time to worry about it. A messenger burst through the door, nearly colliding into the soldier, who used the excuse to break eye contact with Zephyra. ¡°Your Eminence,¡± the messenger gasped. He had been stationed in the tower. His presence signaled yet another misfortune for her father. Abruptly Zephyra spun on her heels, and snapped, ¡°Come with me, and deliver your message to the protector.¡± It was the best pretext available to her; better than outright telling the others to clear the room so she could hear the message alone. Instinct warned her the messenger would speak of Alia Ironwing. Worse, he would say something that would further delegitimize the protector. The messenger struggled to keep up, panting as if he¡¯d run all the way from the tower. So the soldier was truthful in that at least; Alia Ironwing had unhorsed the men. After the disastrous ceremony the protector had retreated to his apartments. The closer she came to his wing of the palace, the more the servants scurried about. And not just them, the men and women of the court scurried as well. They avoided her gaze, except for the most sycophantic. No doubt they were eager to affirm their loyalty. After all, the protector wasn¡¯t going anywhere. And for the moment, no would-be usurper emerged to rally them. But when the huntress became more widely known? What then? When the shahanshah learned of her, and of her actions tonight, what then? I must kill her quickly. Every moment Ironwing drew breath, she dismantled Protector Amavand¡¯s works. Yet once Zephyra mounted her head in Ember Square, the people would believe whatever she said about the huntress. If Ironwing were truly a righteous warrior of the Huntress no evil would overcome her, would it? With a grimace, Zephyra forced herself to accept she must allow the Elamisi to continue believing in the Huntress. Their belief in the so-called Huntress would buy her father time. Finally Zephyra reached the grand doors of Protector Amavand¡¯s apartments. Straightaway the servants ushered her in, with the messenger at her heels. As usual, Protector Amavand sat at his desk. It was an heirloom piece, tamarisk wood hand painted with vignettes of folklore, passed to him from his father, who inherited it from his father, and his father before him. Protector Amavand was scratching furiously at his parchment, his imported quill pen flying. His inner circle clustered about him. Including the chief advisors, they who believed in the Greatest One and had taken the oaths of loyalty. Should she send them away? Then again, why bother? Thanks to her earlier stupidity everyone would soon know about Alia Ironwing. Trying to put that wayward horse back in the stables would only waste time she didn¡¯t have. At her approach the advisors turned to look at her. Their sudden silence caught Protector Amavand¡¯s attention. Seeing her, he sharply narrowed his eyes. ¡°Have you word from the Greatest One?¡± ¡°Not yet,¡± Zephyra said swiftly. ¡°I regret to tell you that your men fell into a trap.¡± ¡°What?¡± Any other time, the coldness of his voice would have frightened her. But this time his anger was not directed at her. In the coming days he would need her more than ever, this much she was certain of. But only if he lived. The solstice night was not yet over, and the prophecy hung over her like a sword. Quickly Zephyra relayed Nariman¡¯s report. And added that he alone returned alive, of the unit sent to hunt the huntress. ¡°She dares to set herself against the Greatest One?¡± this from Artostes, her father¡¯s Master of War. ¡°It appears so,¡± Zephyra answered. ¡°And now this messenger comes to us, from the tower.¡± The others exchanged looks, and Protector Amavand rose from his chair. He stared at the messenger, who like the guard was in utter disarray, not fit to stand before the city¡¯s protector. But stand he did, though trembling all the while as he told them the shocking news: the dryad, Nalini, had escaped her cell. Worse, she unhorsed the other cataphracti, and sent the horses running¡ª ¡°Where to?¡± Zephyra asked, her stomach churning as she awaited the answer. Idly she wondered how the dryad came by the power to effect an escape. The messenger shook his head. ¡°I am not sure, Your Eminence. They ran into the city, that much I know.¡± ¡°Not to the portal?¡± ¡°No, Your Eminence.¡± Oh by the Goddess. Zephyra closed her eyes, her heart aching for her father. Only the protector¡¯s best men would ride an armored horse in peacetime. Now the people of Elamis, any who were still outdoors, would see those horses running wildly through the streets, without their riders. They would know something had happened. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Yet another mark against her father; everyone would assume only an agent of the Huntress could have executed such a move. The people would assume that this agent was more powerful than the soldiers of Elamis. More powerful than their protector ¡­ Protector Amavand demanded, ¡°Did the dryad meet the huntress? This Alia Ironwing?¡± ¡°No, Your Majesty.¡± Quickly he explained what happened when Delir, the beastmaster, had set the special jackals against the Rasena Valentian women. Three fingers lost, Zephyra silently noted, and her heart began to sink. And the messenger kept talking. He had seen a red glow in the trees beyond the tower, so he returned to his post at the top of the tower. Just in time to witness the guardsmen surround the dryad and the Rasena Valentian women. The women matched Delir¡¯s description of the ones who¡¯d mutilated him. For the first time Zephyra smiled ¡ª finally, some good news ¡ª but the messenger kept talking: from out of the trees came the shades of the dead. Then the dryad seized control, banishing the dead and unhorsing the guards. More, she gave a command to the guardsmen, and they promptly killed the soldiers who rushed from the tower to aid them. Then they brought the dryad and the she-wolves inside. ¡°They killed our men?¡± Zephyra gasped. ¡°Their own men? Was Farrokh among them?¡± ¡°Yes, Your Eminence. Amongst the killers,¡± said the messenger, meeting her gaze before quickly looking away. Unfortunately, his eyes met Protector Amavand¡¯s by mistake, and he stepped back at the look he saw there. ¡°Farrokh has asked for assistance,¡± the messenger added, without waiting to be prompted. ¡°That is why I have come, and that is all I have to tell you.¡± If he had hoped to win dismissal with this sentence, he managed to hide his disappointment well. ¡°The dryad escaped. How did she do that?¡± Artostes wondered aloud. The king dismissed this question with a sharp wave. ¡°This is the solstice. No doubt she was biding her time, to enter Erebossa and emerge here. Perhaps she sensed the huntress, this Alia Ironwing, and waited for her.¡± Thunder pulsed behind Zephyra¡¯s eyes, and she rubbed her temples. If her father was right, then no doubt Alia would attempt to free the dryad. Could the dryad call to her, and summon aid? The smugglers who brought the dryads maintained careful procedures in transporting the dryads, precisely to prevent them from calling for aid. But a free and unfettered dryad could call out to any huntsman nearby. Damn. The tower seemed an obvious place to trap the huntress. But the festival had been an obvious place to trap her, too, and look how that had turned out? At the same time, they needed Ironwing dead. They needed Alia Ironwing dead hours ago, and the night was not getting any younger. Zephyra looked at her father. ¡°The huntress may be at the tower, Father. Where is Murad?¡± The scryer could surely observe Ironwing¡¯s movements, especially now that he knew where to look for her. ¡°Send more men against this she-wolf?¡± Protector Amavand demanded. ¡°After she has already made fools of best men tonight?¡± ¡°We must deal with her ourselves, then,¡± Artostes said, and the others murmured their agreement. ¡°This she-wolf is so eager to pick a fight with the Greatest One, let her match herself against us. We will teach her to fear the Goddess.¡± Or they would step into another snare if they came face to face with the huntress. Annoyed with herself, Zephyra banished the notion. As high priestess of the Greatest One, and daughter of the protector, she did not need to fear some savage agent of a False One. ¡°Father, I will go,¡± she volunteered. Protector Amavand¡¯s eyes blazed. He crossed the room to stand before her. ¡°Why? Why go to her? So she can kill you? Have you forgotten the prophecy? Do not be foolish, girl.¡± Hadn¡¯t he taught her to lead by example? It was how he kept the army on his side, not to mention the other factions. In the coming days, the huntress would take on a glamour if they didn¡¯t deal carefully with her. To let it be known, or to be seen cowering at the thought of confronting her, would only make things worse. It would build her up in the eyes of the people, when she needed to be cast down instead. That much Zephyra was certain of. ¡°Father, I must deal with her. I will not let it be said that we quailed instead of facing her down and cutting her down as she deserves. Let me see to her, Father. I am your Hand, and the Handmaiden of the Greatest One. Let no one ever believe that a False One¡¯s bitch could stand against your Hand, let alone our Greatest One.¡± Her father¡¯s gaze softened as he stared down at her. His chest heaved, and Zephyra supposed he was battling sorrow. Of course he must let her go. Either she must go, or he must, and with the prophecy hanging over his head, it would have to be Zephyra. To hold her back would make him look as if he had no faith in the power of the Greatest One to protect Her handmaiden. ¡°Quickly, my child. Go quickly. If you can take this huntress alive, do so. If not, you may kill her with my blessing.¡± With a courtly bow Zephyra answered him. She tapped the sheath beneath the bodice of her dress, reminding her father of the knife he¡¯d given her. The knife needed blooding again. And no one deserved it more than Alia Ironwing.
The portal delivered Zephyra to the city. At first she planned to come down from the sky, via her fire drake, but she re-considered. Why not take Ironwing unawares? Why announce herself, first? So she came by her own horse, wearing her priestly garments. Murad had gone blind. When Zephyra sought him by his scrying pool, she found him instead screaming in pain at something he¡¯d seen. While keeping watch over the events of the tower, something happened within it. Whatever it was, he was beyond telling her. Sheer agony knocked him out. Shivers went through her at the memory of what became of Murad¡¯s eyes. Somehow they had turned milky white, with no irises, no pupils. Just pure white orbs. As this was the night of the winter solstice, no healer could now restore his eyes. This terrible fate he must endure, until the summer solstice at the least. Even the sorcerers aligned with the Goddess could not overcome the law that limited the Restorites. So, the tower must be trapped. Well. Even though Ironwing or the dryad possessed the ability to blind scryers who spied upon them, that did not mean Zephyra need fear them. After all, Murad was not part of the Greatest One¡¯s followers. The fool still believed in Arenavachi, though he was quiet about it these days. Why should the Greatest One exert Herself to protect a believer in a False One from an agent of another False One? Her horse maintained a steady pace as she approached the park. Rather than armor, her horse simply bore fine dressage. Ostensibly, stealth demanded she eschew armor. While Zephyra would have liked to have the townspeople to witness the protector¡¯s horses striding the streets, the time for being seen was over for the moment. According to the reports, the horses that fled the dryad had fled all the way to the deserts. They trampled the gate guards who had tried to stop them. What would become of the horses out there Zephyra had no idea, but she had no time to care. Because the noise of an armored horse would give away her approach, she favored stealth. The balance must be stacked to give her every edge possible. Bitter laughter bubbled up inside her. Stealth? Against someone trained in the very art of hunting? In this matter, Zephyra was fighting a huntress on grounds suitable to a huntress. Which meant Zephyra needed to shift the battlefield. She clutched the vial around her neck, and smiled a little, triumphant. Never before did her father entrust the vial to her. Never did he bless her with the nectar of the Goddess. This blessing he reserved to certain others, and said he¡¯d done so because they could not hope to do what she could, as the handmaiden of the Greatest One. All the same, Zephyra had always felt cheated. Even now, he forbade her to drink the nectar, insisting she give it to the men who accompanied her. ¡°Swear by the Greatest One,¡± Protector Amavand had demanded of her. Fury had burned in Zephyra¡¯s heart at those words. Why deny her the nectar of the Goddess? What right did he have to keep that blessing from her? To assert control over her? To ensure that regardless of her status as the Handmaiden, she still needed him, and needed to obey him? The look in his eyes quelled her desire to argue. Experience told her he would be unyielding. If she wanted to be the one to confront the huntress, she would have to swear the oath. Swear it she did. But she vowed to herself to have a reckoning with her father when this was over. However, first he must survive, and ensuring his survival was her job. Zephyra glanced up at the sky, expecting to see the huntress flitting about on her gryphon. But she only saw stars overhead. Then again, Ironwing may be flying too high for Zephyra to see her. And why not? Gryphons possessed the same sharp eyesight as golden eagles. But there was something else odd. Given the height of the tower, Zephyra ought to see the top of it peeking over the trees by now. On her first and last visit to the tower, she was able to see its peak minutes before she reached it. Was the huntress using an illusion? Something to conceal it from sight? But why? ¡°It¡¯s this way,¡± said Nariman. He led them, knowing the way better than Zephyra did. And, if he should try to flee, he would do so knowing that she was at his back and would strike him down. Although, so far he seemed eager for a chance to redeem himself. Three other Manticoran guards rode with them. Surreptitiously she studied them. Utterly unremarkable, she concluded. Nothing about them marked them as worthy of the nectar of the Goddess. Nariman especially was unworthy. Perhaps she could forgive him for being captured, but losing his horse? The pride of the protector¡¯s mounts? A shriek pierced her reverie, coming from a man and his horse. Nariman¡¯s horse shimmied backwards. The soldier placed a hand on the pommel of his sword, then turned back sharply to see her. ¡°Your Eminence! Stay back!¡± The horses all seemed nervous; even Zephyra¡¯s took a step back. Two of the guards struggled forward to join Nariman, but one stayed with Zephyra, positioning himself to get between her and whatever Nariman was facing. ¡°What is it?¡± she asked. Her heart pounded in anticipation. Did Ironwing show herself? Again she looked at the vial around her neck. Since she gave it to the men when they first set out, they should be fully under its effects by now. ¡°Who are you?¡± Nariman barked. Confused, Zephyra tried to stand in her saddle. Who are you? Wouldn¡¯t he recognize Ironwing? Ahh, but Ironwing was ¡°the other one.¡± Perhaps Nariman faced the first one? ¡°I said who are you?¡± Nariman put fire into his voice this time, and the men were drawing their spears. ¡°Move aside. I am not here for thee.¡± Zephyra¡¯s eyes widened. The voice sounded sonorous, and filled with great weight and power, the way Zephyra had always imagined a goddess to sound. The voice of her goddess never sounded that way. But the Goddess spoke to her in dreams. Had She come here in the flesh? Eager, Zephyra urged her horse forward. The men, bless them, were closing ranks, forming a phalanx against the speaker. Trying to protect their Handmaiden. ¡°Answer me, or be run down, woman!¡± Nariman thundered. Now closer to the men, Zephyra peered through the gaps in their phalanx. She drew back, seeing the speaker at last. A lone woman stood on the path, fearless and regal in her violet gown. Somehow she seemed to look down on the guards, even though she was only on foot and they sat above her on their horses. The lapis stone in the circlet on her brow announced her status as a prophet. ¡°Hold there, Handmaiden,¡± said the prophet, her voice inflected with so much icy hauteur that even Zephyra flinched. Even the shahanshah¡¯s emissaries couldn¡¯t have matched her in tone, and they thought the high king was directly appointed by a goddess. ¡°Let me through,¡± Zephyra said quietly, and Nariman maneuvered to let her draw even with him. Now she came face to face with the woman. Was it the starlight that gave the stately woman a soft halo, making her seem quite ethereal, and not quite real? The brightness of the halo prevented Zephyra from looking directly at her, forcing her to avert her eyes. What was this prophet doing here? A terrible thought jolted Zephyra: maybe the prophet sounded so high and mighty as the shahanshah¡¯s people because she was one of them. How disastrous, if they found out about her father so early. ¡°What is it¡ª¡± Zephyra began, but at a contemptuous flick of the prophet¡¯s wrist the words died in her throat. The woman looked at her and through her, as though she thought Zephyra was nothing at all. When the prophet spoke again, she intrigued Zephyra by using the older form of the language, the kind only used in sacred texts and epic poems. ¡°Silence! Thou shalt be silent and listen. Thou art surrounded by liars and deceivers all. They will destroy thee. Thou thinkest thou wilt save thy father the pretender, but he will die by the hands of those who are better than he. And they will come for thee, child. When they do, lay down thy weapon and remember that I told thee this would happen.¡± Though Zephyra opened her mouth no words came out, so shocked was she. Pretender? Better than he? Where did this woman get the nerve! ¡°Lay. Down. Thy. Dagger,¡± the woman intoned, and at last it dawned on Zephyra that the prophet was speaking of the dagger her father had given her. Yet, no one else knew of the dagger. In all the frenzy of killing Gira and preparing for the festival she hadn¡¯t time to show it to Friya. Even Gira hadn¡¯t seen it before she killed him. Had the weaponsmith spoken of it? ¡°Who are you?¡± Zephyra demanded, unable to restrain her anger any longer. It was either anger or terror, and she refused to be scared. ¡°When thy protector lies dying in thine arms,¡± the woman said, without so much as a hint of pity, ¡°ask him to tell thee of the mynah. He will fear to die with a lie upon his lips. Every day thee hast known him is every day he has lied to thee. But ask him of the mynah and he will tell thee the truth. For once.¡± Silvery light flashed. She was gone. They were all quiet for several moments. While the men murmured, Zephyra tried to regain her bearings mentally. Vanished. The prophet vanished. Which meant her appearance was from a Sending, as the scryers might do. Or ¡­ was she a shade, sent by Alia Ironwing to mock her? What was a mynah? And why should her father care about such a thing, and why should Zephyra ask him of it? ¡°Should we return to the palace?¡± Nariman asked. Zephyra shook herself, and sat straighter on her horse. ¡°This was just a distraction,¡± she said, with a confidence she did not feel. ¡°The Ironwing woman is trying to throw us off her trail. Perhaps she¡¯s wounded and wants us to keep away from the tower. My father is safe in the palace, how would she get to him? Let¡¯s move on.¡± They came a little while later to find fallen shrubbery on the road, and swirls of dirt and leaves. And the bodies of four of the men from the tower, including Ratansha, her apothecary. ¡°Farrokh will answer for this,¡± Zephyra hissed. They turned onto the lane that led to¡ª Nariman cried out again, jerking back his horse. This time Zephyra held him blameless; her heart stopped entirely at what she saw. The tower was no more. A heap of rubble lay where it once stood. Gravel. Stone. Pebbles. Iron and glass. The remains of the tower, pulverized somehow, as if a giant or some such had come along and squeezed it to dust in its hands. No sign of corpses. Did they dissolve when the tower dissolved? Was this what Murad witnessed when he went blind? Who destroyed the tower? The huntress? Or the dryad? Either way the Greatest One would be furious; the dryad was needed for a midnight ritual, meant to take place an hour from now. Something glinted in the starlight, at the edge of the gravel, where the door to the tower would have been. ¡°What is that?¡± Zephyra asked Nariman. In silence he dismounted his horse in silence, still looking at the rubble in stark disbelief. He had only gone a few feet when it happened. First came a flash of white light. Then Nariman¡¯s knees buckled just as he let out a fierce scream. Zephyra startled, and her horse stepped backward in response. ¡°What¡ª?¡± ¡°Help me! Help me! Help me!¡± Nariman was on all fours now, screaming and writhing. Frightened, Zephyra swept her gaze over the area. Nothing. Nothing to explain the strange attack on Nariman ¡ªwhat was happening? Smoke was rising now from Nariman¡¯s armor. In an instant Zephyra retrieved her glowlight from her saddle bag and raised it up. Its light revealed Nariman¡¯s face, red and blistered. His eyes rolled back in his sockets, and he closed them just once before his face began to shrivel. His companions were dismounting their horses, clearly intending to go to his aid. ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± Zephyra ordered, But she was too late, and she had to look away from the flash of white. When she looked back, the men had fallen where they stood, and before her eyes they began to meet Nariman¡¯s fate. As for Nariman, he fell eerily silent. His face blackened, burned to a crisp. It seemed an eternity before the other two men stopped screaming as well. In the silence, Zephyra heard only the crackling and hissing of their remains. Against her will she trembled. Her heart pounded as she surveyed the tower, and what was left of her honor guard, cooked alive in their own armor. By sheer willpower she stayed calm. Nariman¡¯s horse had skittered back, and Zephyra was dully resigned to the possibility of it running away. However, the horses remained unscathed. Whatever attacked the men did not target horses, apparently. And she? If she touched the ground, would she remain unscathed, or would she meet the same fate as the Manticoran Guard? With quick, shallow breaths she glanced back down the lane, half expecting the seer to appear again. But only an empty, dark road greeted her. Think. Think. Think. Either the seer was a lie, an illusion sent by Alia Ironwing¡ªor she was real. If she were a lie, then Zephyra better stay on her horse. But if she were real¡­if she were real, then Zephyra would live to see her father die. Her stomach roiled, and it took everything she had to keep her food down. She urged her horse forward. The shiny thing that had drawn her attention proved to be an amulet, hanging from a makeshift sign post. Her glowlight revealed it to be Delir¡¯s golden eagle amulet. An amulet the protector allowed him to wear, for now, because the had not yet come to do away with the ways of the Huntress. Delir¡¯s name was engraved at the bottom of the amulet, below the eagle¡¯s head. She gingerly reached out to take it, and immediately jerked her fingers back. The metal was hot. By instinct she put her fingers in her mouth to cool them. For a brief moment, every memory flashed before her eyes, and she let out a small moan of rage and grief. Had she doomed herself? But no. Zephyra shakily withdrew her fingers from her mouth, and willed herself to look at them. I only brushed against the medal. Lightly, lightly I brushed against it. Oh Greatest One, surely that saves me? No other part of her burned, and she exhaled. Again she shone her light on the amulet. This time, she noticed the plank of wood it hung from. A message was seared into the plank.
To whom it may concern: Delir is no more, for he doomed himself when he broke his oaths to the Huntress. The tower is no more, for it served as a prison for the daughters of the Huntress. Protector Amavand shall be no more, for it is he who slew the dryads. The Huntress requires I claim the life of the protector of Elamis, and claim it I shall.
Someone inscribed a mark at the bottom, with a glyph Zephyra recognized. The glyph necessary to begin writing Alia. Chapter 25: To Strike at the King Chapter XXV To Strike at the King In which Bessa formulates a desperate strategy ¡°Are we safe here?¡± Tregarde asked, looking around the small room in the pilgrim¡¯s inn. After Alia dissolved the tower in the park she summoned her friends, to secure Bessa and Edana¡¯s escape as well as her own. They¡¯d made only one stop, to the inn where the Rasena Valentian previously lodged. It took some finessing, but Tregarde managed to make his way into the inn and locate Nima, who brought them the box where they¡¯d stored their thunder maces. ¡°The last resort has come,¡± Edana said to Bessa before they fled once more in the night. Unwilling to trust in the safety of their previous inns, where obvious foreigners would be gathered¡ªand thus targeted¡ªthe group needed to find refuge. Edana suggested the Sower¡¯s temple, her original destination before the jackals attacked her and Bessa. She pointed out that in the event of an attack, the Sower¡¯s priests would be equal to the task of dealing with it. And thus they ended up in the pilgrim¡¯s complex, below the hill where the temple stood. No one questioned why they needed a room so late at night; other traveling Eitanim had faced harrowing escapes from angry crowds. Many had been forced to hide before they deemed it safe to make way for the Eitanite Quarter of the city. The innkeeper, a friendly old man, gave them a double room. A front room and back room, albeit with a festive-looking curtain serving in place of a door between the two rooms. Woolen curtains of cerulean with ivory floral patterns softened the austerity of the stone walls, in addition to keeping the cold at bay. Two cots and a low table made up the front room, where the men were to sleep. Four more cots and a toilette vanity made up the backroom, where the women would sleep. The low table¡ªwhich the innkeeper called a ¡°korsi¡±¡ªwas covered with a huge heavy blanket. Below the table a Salamandran firestone provided heat. For this alone the group was grateful. But the inn¡¯s servants also brought in a tureen of hearty soup, chicken and chickpeas spiced with turmeric. In addition, they set the table with a basket of bread and a jar of jam made from blackthorn berries. Last, they included a jug of what Bessa declared was the sweetest, most refreshing water she¡¯d ever drank. In spite of the warm welcome, and the coziness of the room, they all of them found it difficult to maintain good spirits. Tregarde¡¯s question pierced to the heart of their concerns. Where would they be safe? Stirring her soup listlessly, Edana said, ¡°Murena knew about me, and Lady Nensela, and Halie. And from what the dead man told Alia, the ¡®bel nakri¡¯ knows of her. Is there reason to assume the fellshade queen won¡¯t tell her minions where we are?¡± ¡°Erebossi are not omniscient?¡± Sheridan suggested. ¡°A comforting thought,¡± Edana said. ¡°About this Murena,¡± Tregarde began, turning in his seat to face Edana. ¡°Is he really an eel?¡± ¡°More or less,¡± Bessa replied, then she described him in detail. Between getting settled in the room and accepting the priests¡¯ hospitality, they made time to fill each other in. The Lyrcanians listened patiently, at times awestruck and at other times nodding in confirmation at Bessa¡¯s story. When Bessa finished talking, Alia picked up the thread, telling the Rasena Valentians of her investigations in Lyrcania. When she finished, Nima excused himself to find out if the temple grounds included an oraculum. ¡°Do we have to kill the protector?¡± Sheridan asked. He barely touched his food, and instead applied himself to oiling Alia¡¯s knives, having already cleaned them. ¡°You can¡¯t strike at a ruler and leave him alive,¡± Bessa pointed out, thinking of Tarkhana¡¯s encounter with the would-be assassins. ¡°Either you kill him or he kills you. The Fire Lords said we¡¯d need to kill Amavand in order to go through the nekromanteion.¡± ¡°Right. When Ironwing suggested we go through a shadow gate it was to retrieve her aunts. But you still haven¡¯t finished the ritual that would blind the fellshades to us. Nor do we know how to kill the fellshades.¡± ¡°Fellshades are not killable,¡± Alia said glumly. She¡¯d curled up on the second cot, which was wedged into a corner of the room. Edana shrugged. ¡°I was willing to leave the protector for later. But I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll let us go our merry way, do you? And I know I¡¯m not willing to abandon this town, when the servant of a fellshade is trying to sacrifice the townspeople to her. You heard the priests. They said the gates are closed.¡± The others fell silent. For a while they brooded, until the atmosphere in the room became oppressive. Then Edana brought up another point. ¡°Have you considered the protector may not be himself? Except for Murena, the eidolons we faced tended to possess people with the authority to carry out certain tasks. One of the eidolons was a governor. Isn¡¯t this protector a kind of governor? Why are we assuming he¡¯s not possessed, too?¡± ¡°Sweet of you to consider he¡¯s not evil all on his own. But either way we need to deal with him,¡± Tregarde answered. ¡°Even if it¡¯s to expel the eidolon from him.¡± Looking mildly chagrined Edana said, ¡° I ¡­ was not thinking of saving him. Our survival turns on how the townspeople react to us going against him. If he¡¯s possessed the people of Elamis will welcome his death. As you say, we need to deal with him, because he and his soldiers are going to come for us. Murena could track Halie, and attack prophets without them expecting it. Well, Lady Nensela expected it¡ªbut she¡¯s not here.¡± Her voice trailed off a little. Bessa suspected Edana was thinking of how much they needed Lady Nensela right now. And wondering, yet again, whether or not the prophet would survive the injuries she¡¯d inflicted on herself. For now; however, they needed to concentrate on the present. In civilized times a temple would be a sanctuary where they could be safe from attack. Unfortunately, per Alia, Zephyra had committed murder in Aletheia¡¯s temple. Obviously, they mustn¡¯t think she would stay her hand against the Sower¡¯s temple, either. ¡°Come the dawn, perhaps we should move on,¡± Bessa said. Partly she spoke for Edana¡¯s sake, for she knew Edana would refuse to endanger the temple any more than necessity dictated. Tregarde sighed. He stood up and strode over to the entry door, leaning against it as though barring it. ¡°Tonight we should take watches; there¡¯s enough of us that we can do this in pairs. And we¡¯re going to have to, because you¡¯re right that we should move on. The problem is, Elamis isn¡¯t Ebon Cove. This city is too enclosed, and there¡¯s only one way out. Protector Amavand has time on his side, all he needs is to ask the demon where we are.¡± ¡°Then why wait?¡± Edana asked, shoving away her soup entirely. ¡°We need him dead. Elamis needs him dead. And he¡¯ll know where we are. So let¡¯s go to him now while things are still chaotic.¡± ¡°And if the fellshade queen is there?¡± Sheridan wondered. He glanced at Alia, and his brow furrowed slightly in concern. Bessa looked her over as well. The huntress hadn¡¯t hidden her grief, though she was not ostentatious about it, either. If anything, she seemed fogged, her eyes clouding from time to time. Likely she was reliving memories of her lost aunts. At the mention of the queen, Alia stirred. She uncurled her legs, swinging her feet down to the floor as she prepared to rise. ¡°I don¡¯t see any other options,¡± Alia said, looking at Sheridan now. The cloudiness in her eyes vanished, and her tone hardened. ¡°If we don¡¯t go, they¡¯ll come after us, all the way here to the Sower¡¯s temple. At home, Junius Fellrath tried to make me out to be a persecutor of innocent sorcerers every time I arrested his men. I would wager Amavand would love an excuse to destroy the Sower¡¯s temple; if the priests defend it that will be just the excuse he needs, wouldn¡¯t it? At least in the palace there won¡¯t be any innocent casualties.¡± ¡°Exactly so,¡± Edana agreed. Sheridan set down the oil rag and stood up. ¡°We can¡¯t kill a ruler. No matter how right we are, we¡¯ll be hunted, and we still won¡¯t have the queen¡¯s name¡ªunless you think we can use a compulsion spell to make him tell us?¡± He stared at Tregarde, the lone sorcerer in the room, and folded his arms in a challenge. Rather than keep her back to the door, Bessa sat parallel to the wall across from the cots. Thus, she easily caught Sheridan¡¯s gaze from where he sat on the cot he claimed. ¡°I don¡¯t know Lyrcanian history,¡± she began, ¡°but I know enough of mine to know that we really only have two choices: we kill the protector, or we let him kill us. He has followers. He leads those in league with the fellshade queen. If you don¡¯t kill him then you have to keep him prisoner, and that¡¯s right out.¡± ¡°I was thinking we get out of town. I know you don¡¯t want to abandon Elamis,¡± Sheridan said, nodding at Edana. ¡°And I don¡¯t want to, either. But let¡¯s be smart about this. Say we fly into the palace. Do we just kill everyone in our way?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve done that. At the temple of the Lords of Chaos,¡± Alia said quietly. ¡°Yes, with the astral warrior¡¯s help. And that was in Ebon Cove, where you have the Watch¡¯s authority,¡± Sheridan reminded her. ¡°But over here? We¡¯re foreigners, we can¡¯t go killing authorities. Even after what you did tonight, we can¡¯t just kill him.¡± ¡°If he¡¯s dead we can leave,¡± Edana said patiently. ¡°And the Handmaiden will just let us? I thought we weren¡¯t supposed to kill her?¡± ¡°She could make a good hostage if we leave town with her,¡± Edana suggested. Sheridan¡¯s jaw locked, and his expression remained mutinous. Bessa didn¡¯t blame him; the thought of killing the ruler of a foreign city-state, or taking a hostage was heady business. But what choice did they have? Even without the Fire Lords¡¯ advice hanging over them, they were still cornered with nowhere to run. Soldier-bearing drakes patrolled the sky, which obliged them to keep to the ground. Fortunately, Alia¡¯s gryphon had cried warning in time for the group to land close to the temple, before they were spotted. They could not escape, not on foot and not by gryphon. Even if they managed, the protector could send out a party to hunt them, with human and Erebossi agents alike. Bessa took up the thread again. ¡°I¡¯m not eager to kill him either, but we can¡¯t sit here. He¡¯ll come for us. And we must kill him; we don¡¯t have the means or the time to try and hold that palace. We would have to constantly fend off the king¡¯s people and their attempts to free him, which means killing them. And, need I remind you, that any who are left alive can summon the queen to come here. And they will do that if we¡¯re all that¡¯s standing between her and the king. Send him to her. That¡¯s all we can do.¡± ¡°We won¡¯t live to storm the palace!¡± Sheridan pointed out, his nostrils flaring in his impatience. Silence again. Stealth wasn¡¯t an option. Storming wasn¡¯t an option. Yet the Huntress demanded the death of Amavand. I would want another option. A wish Bessa expressed during the Battle of the Night of the Burning Sky. On that perilous night she assumed, correctly as it turned out, that if cornered the giants would seek to avoid an obvious trap, and would leave it to Murena to deal with. On the eve of battle, Lysander held a strategy session in which he¡¯d planned the battle with the operating assumption that they would lose the fortress. Doing so had freed his soldiers to fight as they needed. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± she said slowly, causing Sheridan to do a double take. The others stared at her, and Edana arched an eyebrow. Rising to her feet, Bessa swept the room with her eyes, making sure she had their full attention. ¡°We can¡¯t storm the palace, and we can¡¯t run, and the protector will come for us. So, let us pick where and when. We¡¯re going to do this like ¡®Khratu and the Manticore,¡¯¡± she said, invoking one of the earliest bedtime stories her grandmother Aurelia had told her. All Rasena Valentians knew of it, and from the light in Alia¡¯s eyes Bessa knew the Lyrcanians must also know of the story. She continued, ¡°Let us invite the whole town to see it happen. The protector might think this is another chance to make a sacrifice. He may even drink this ichor you spoke of. But I just saw you turn stone to dust,¡± she said, pointing at Alia. She turned to Edana and said, ¡°And I saw you slay eidolon-jackals. One or both of you need to face the protector and duel him, your Sower or Huntress against his queen. An irresistible challenge, for him.¡± Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Edana cocked her head, and Bessa could see the wheels turning as she considered the idea. Finally Edana said, ¡°He must resist that, remember? We thought his long term plans meant avoiding having the high king know of his allegiance to Erebossa. He can¡¯t show his disloyalty to Anshan just yet.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the beauty of it,¡± Bessa gloated. ¡°Tonight, Alia made everyone think that he no longer served Aletheia. So in the duel, he¡¯ll claim he¡¯s acting in Her name. I¡¯m sure that infernal queen won¡¯t mind his pretending to deny her¡ªafter all, your father always said fellshades and eidolons only tell lies. More than ever Amavand has to prove to the people that he belongs to Aletheia. This is the perfect opportunity.¡± Tregarde stroked his chin, and Bessa suddenly thought of Brison. Did he and the others survive the Night of the Burning Sky? Did he finally read the play she¡¯d reserved for the occasion? She fervently hoped so. Then Tregarde began speaking, snapping Bessa out of her reverie. ¡°He has to face you,¡± he said, turning his back to the low table in order to face Alia. ¡°After what you did to him, he needs to claim that you are the one who¡¯s a false servant of a goddess. He may lay his crimes at your feet. If you die, clearly you were the one corrupted. That¡¯s how I reckon he¡¯d think it will go.¡± Alia looked from Bessa to Tregarde. She frowned, and turned back to see Sheridan nodding to himself. ¡°You agree?¡± she asked. Sheridan resumed gliding his oil cloth over her knife. Light shimmered all along the blade, and the iridescent metal became violet, then teal, then emerald in turn. ¡°You¡¯re the one who summoned an astral, remember? So I can¡¯t figure how you wouldn¡¯t be able to handle a duel with him.¡± ¡°He will cheat,¡± Edana warned. ¡°Or try to, anyway. But if we do this right, he won¡¯t take the risk of having us killed where we stand.¡± Alia sighed. ¡°Let¡¯s do this right, then.¡±
The bells of Aletheia¡¯s Fane rang at dawn. Four bronze bells, set in an open pavilion in the midst of a square before the temple, never tolled at dawn unless Aletheia¡¯s chief priest were to die during the night. Thus alerted, the priests hurried out first, stunned to find their bells ringing though none of their number had gone out to ring them. To move unseen through town, Tregarde cloaked the group in an illusion of nothingness. When they reached the pavilion, he summoned a wind so strong the bells swung to and fro, ringing of their own accord. Their tolls echoed in the empty streets and off the walls of the mountain that encased the city. Before the priests arrived, Alia had Tregarde banish the illusion, revealing them to everyone nearby. Aletheia¡¯s servants would assume unsavory intentions on the part of anyone they caught using illusions. Prudence; therefore, demanded they avoid even the appearance of wrongdoing. The bell pavilion was an ornate, elevated structure with twelve steps leading up to it on each of its four sides. Evergreen vines of climbing jasmine twined around the four columns supporting the pavilion¡¯s roof. Though the white blossoms would not appear until late winter, the vivid green leaves still provided a spot of color. At the north entrance Edana stood guard. Bessa guarded the west, and Tregarde and Sheridan alloted themselves the east and south respectively. Facing west, Alia stood in the center, between the bells. The archpriest of Aletheia recognized Alia and Tregarde right away, and immediately hurried up the steps to stand face to face with Tregarde. ¡°What are you up to?! You said you would bring no trouble upon us!¡± With a backward glance Alia answered him. In a hard, pitiless tone she said, ¡°You are mistaken, Guileless One: you were in trouble before I came here. ¡± She spun on her heel to give him the full weight of her stare. ¡°Now tell me: are you the only one in Elamis who didn¡¯t hear of the Everbright¡¯s Festival? Your ¡®protector¡¯ sought to kill innocents. If you do not openly side with the truth in this, then stay out of my way.¡± The archpriest stepped back, down one step as if he meant to flee. ¡°You threaten me?¡± Driven by grief and anger, Alia put all of her scorn into her laughter. ¡°Guileless One, such a thing to say! I will protect you whether you serve Aletheia or not. But I am here to serve the Huntress, and I will brook no interference. If you cannot help then go back to your grotto, and when the people of Elamis ask where you were in all this, you can honestly say you weren¡¯t hiding under your bed.¡± Fravak¡¯s hand went now to his cheek, as though she¡¯d slapped him. Alia spun on her heels, turning her back to him and once more facing the west. Either the man would make himself useful or he wouldn¡¯t, but she was not about to waste time counting him in her battle plans. Earlier, before they set out for the pavilion, Bessa asked her why they should not count on aid from Fravak. ¡°You do not send a Restorite to do a Marinite¡¯s job,¡± Alia had replied, echoing the advice Palamara had once given her during the Watch¡¯s battle drills. ¡°Fravak is concerned more with politics than with spiritual matters. We need to account of the strongest and the weakest of those we take into battle with us.¡± Alia looked over her own troops and hugged herself a little. The rime of ice on the bells underscored the coolness of the mountain air so early in the morning. Though she wore her deerskin coat, she did so in the Anshani style: hung lightly from her shoulders, and the sleeves empty. Leaving her arms bare and her eagle arm bands visible. Everyone should recognize her instantly as a huntress. A stole of lynx fur around her neck and shoulders served as her sole concession to the chill. Soon a crowd gathered around the pavilion. Once the crowd swelled to standing room only, Alia nodded at Bessa. The people had come, some with caution, others as though a monster were nipping at their heels. Upon seeing the little group guarding the pavilion, they all slowed and looked to each other as if to ask, Do you know what¡¯s going on? No. Do you know? ¡°It is time,¡± Alia declared. ¡°Let us begin.¡±
With a confidence she did not feel, Bessa descended six of the twelve steps separating the pavilion from the street. Overhead, the sun glowed with pale rosiness. Morning frost glittered on the chrysanthemum leaves, and Bessa could see her own breath with every exhale. She glanced over at the lake. True to what the city¡¯s watchmen claimed, the mists hid the lake, and the palace from view. The mist poured down over the temple district as well, but not so thick as to hide her from the crowd. In clear Pelasgian, Bessa spoke. Having seen for herself the average Elamisi could understand Pelasgian just fine, she decided against using Nima as her interpreter. Her plans depended on putting as little a barrier between herself and her audience as possible. As well, she didn¡¯t want to out him as connected to her unless she had to; if everything went wrong he could still carry out the mission. The audience gave her their full attention, which meant she didn¡¯t have to shout. In the morning air her voice carried well enough. Alia¡¯s job, she instructed, was to stay silent and look forbidding. ¡°Your silence will make their imaginations run wild,¡± Bessa had insisted. To the people of Elamis she gave a wave and a bow of her head before launching into the speech she prepared. ¡°Good day to you all. We regret the necessity of calling you from your beds, but we assure you we had no choice. My name is Bessa, and I come from Silura, as does my companion Edana. We are visitors here, obviously, but we believed ourselves safe in this city whose reputation extends even to our distant land.¡± She paused. The crowd looked patient enough, but by their expressions she knew they wanted her to get on with it. She suppressed a smile before obliging them. ¡°Last night, during the Everbright¡¯s Festival, we learned this city is not safe. Your protector attempted to desecrate a celebration meant to honor the One Who Lights the Way. I am sure you wonder why. And I am also sure you all saw how he was repaid for this sacrilege.¡± The crowd began to murmur. For the moment Bessa did nothing to quell them. The city¡¯s watchmen had joined the crowd. First one, then another, and yet another shadow of a fire drake darkened the sky overhead. Bessa willed herself to ignore them; the wingmen were Edana¡¯s job. ¡°Your protector no longer serves Aletheia, nor walks in the Light,¡± she continued. ¡°And I don¡¯t think I¡¯m telling you anything you haven¡¯t already thought amongst yourselves: the protector is no longer in the priesthood of the truth. On the night the sky burned green, did any see him in the temple of Amyntas, asking for protection for his people? That is the very duty of a protector, is it not? And he failed to honor the Truthsayer on Her holy day, which you also know. But do you know why?¡± Some people in the crowd actually leaned forward. Even the wingmen descended slightly, as if to hear her better. Bessa pointed an accusing finger at the citadel. The crowd turned their heads to see where she was pointing, and their murmuring grew louder. ¡°Your protector serves a new mistress! She calls herself queen of the Shadow Court. Yes, a fellshade! And for her sake, many have died already.¡± They gasped. Bessa now adopted Lady Nensela¡¯s incantatory rhythm as she named the victims, starting with Hosh the reaper and ending with the dryad, Nalini. ¡°And on the eve of Roshanak¡¯s holy day, the protector¡¯s own daughter stole into the temple of Her sister, Aletheia, the one you call Arenavachi. There she lay in wait to kill a man.¡± Now some cried out in horror. This time Bessa held up a hand, seeking silence, and the crowd granted it to her. ¡°This is not even the greatest of the desecrations of your protector, I¡¯m sorry to say. Don¡¯t you wonder why the golden eagle stole his crown and broke his scepter? Don¡¯t you wonder why the Huntress rebukes him? It is because the protector has sent swarms of sorcerers to poison the groves of Her daughters. Poisoned them, so they may be abducted. Abducted so they might be sacrificed. Sacrificed so that the protector may please his demon queen.¡± A preternatural scream broke through the air, stunning everyone where they stood. Bessa squared her shoulders and stood her ground, willing herself once again not to look up at the drakes. The dragon¡¯s cry was answered with a clap of thunder. Bessa¡¯s nostrils flared as the scent of rain filled her nose, bringing memories of the attack on her vineyard along with it. The crowd again cried out, this time pointing at Edana. Or rather, they briefly pointed at her, because suddenly a man screamed in terror, and the crowd turned just in time to see the dragon and rider plunge into the thick fog obscuring the lake. The splash confirmed what they all assumed was happening. Silent, tense with expectation, the crowd waited. Before long came the sound of rippling water, followed by a roar. The Yellow Serpent had awakened. Three-headed and yellow-scaled, the dragon was bound to the lake. To enter the lake was to be become his rightful prey. Fire flashed through the mists, and they heard thrashing in the water. The man¡¯s screams came to an abrupt stop. Suddenly, a fire drake burst from the mist, fluttering on a broken wing before crashing to the ground. It twitched and pawed at the ground, then lay still. The dragon roared again, then silence fell. While the crowd stared at the fallen drake, Bessa took the opportunity to look back at her companions. The Lyrcanians looked just as startled as the Elamisi, which suggested that they didn¡¯t have thunder maces in Lyrcania, either. When the crowd turned back to the pavilion, Bessa met their shocked gazes with a nonchalant one of her own. She finally looked up at the wingmen, what remained of them. Keeping her tone light and even she said, ¡°If you cannot bear to let us have our say, might I suggest you either fly away or lay aside your weapons? I promise you the reach of the thunder mace is greater than you might expect. We are not here to kill innocents¡ªand we will not allow ourselves to be killed, either.¡± The wingmen glanced at each other. They were looking at Edana, and Bessa suspected they were wondering what other strange sorcery the group might have at their disposal. From the way they were frowning, she imagined they were contemplating the fact that they would have just one chance to try and attack¡ªbefore dying an ignominious death like their companion. Bessa addressed the crowd again. ¡°That lightning came from a weapon used by the allies of the bel nakri¡ªa queen of Erebossa. We came here seeking a way to fight these weapons, but now we see what your protector is about. I call him out. If any of you think your protector needs to answer these charges, summon him now, and let him explain himself.¡± Amongst the faces in the crowd, emotions ranged from fear, anger, and hopefulness. Now Bessa let the people speak. Some agreed with her, that the protector did need to answer the charges. Others insisted she was wrong to question him, and that they should have faith there was an innocent explanation for all they¡¯d known him to do. Others, of course, demanded Bessa provide proof of her accusations. Exactly the opening she¡¯d been waiting for. ¡°Choose a truth-seer. Two, or three if you like. They will certify my words, and the words of my companions.¡± She held out her hands, palms up, silent invitation for a truth-seer to clasp them. All eyes turned to Fravak, the archpriest of Aletheia. Though he had lingered in the square, he¡¯d remained close-mouthed. Truthseers looked to him, even as they were stepping forward. Included in their number were the gold-robed priests of Sorcha. Bessa suspected their grim, barely hinted of their anger at the protector of Elamis. Someone, a layman apparently, stepped out of the crowd of townspeople. He wore a circlet with a white jadestone, indication that he was a truth-seer. ¡°I am Behnam, and I serve Arenavachi,¡± he said. ¡°I will verify this woman¡¯s words.¡± Many people recognized him, and made reassuring noises. The archpriest at last strode up the steps to the pavilion. ¡°I, Fravak, high priest of the Guileless One, Arenavachi the Truthsayer, ally of the Relentless One, will verify the words of this woman.¡± He had come up behind Alia, who had not deigned to look back at him. In full view of the crowd, she gave him the side eye when he drew even with her, prompting him to add, ¡°One thing I will say right now: there was indeed a murder in the Hall of Truth, on the eve of the solstice. A woman murdered a man identified as Gira, son of Gushtam.¡± The crowd gasped. To her satisfaction, Bessa noticed faltering confidence in the protector¡¯s staunchest defenders. Someone in the crowd cried out, and others began speaking rapidly in Anshani. Excellent. Though she did not speak their language, Bessa suspected what they were saying. According to Alia¡¯s investigation, the murdered Gira had belonged to a prominent family. News which had made Bessa¡¯s heart somersault with joy: the nobility would not take the slaying of their own lying down. Any of the nobles who had ever thought they would look good with a crown would see their opportunity, and exert every effort to corral the crowd into turning against the protector. After all, the protector of Elamis was like a king: he could be replaced. Behnam now took Bessa¡¯s left hand, and Fravak took her right. Gamely she smiled at them. ¡°I said I am Bessa, and I am from Silura. Do I speak truly or falsely?¡± ¡°True,¡± both men concurred. She continued, moving on to the thunder mace, to get that matter out of the way quickly. Edana¡¯s use of it had clearly unnerved people, and any clever instigator on Protector Amavand¡¯s side could twist their possession of it as proof they were the agents of Erebossa. The crowd became deathly silent when Behnam and Fravak confirmed Bessa¡¯s belief the thunder mace was used by giants. As well they confirmed Bessa¡¯s desire to warn the Anshani about the giants. Again Bessa suppressed a laugh; the folly she had berated herself for had been put to good use after all. Apparently a few enterprising people had assessed the situation in the square, for now people began passing around buttery flat breads topped with onion seeds. The bread was followed by baskets of fruit to choose from. The crowd was settling in. Now they came to the matter of the protector. The watchmen descended, hovering just above the roof of the pavilion. At first Bessa feared they were going to attempt to kill her, and had learned from their companion¡¯s mistake to keep away from the lakes But instead, one of them blew a horn. ¡°Make way for His Majesty!¡± Chapter 26: The Protectors Gambit Chapter XXVI The Protector''s Gambit In which Protector Amavand meets his reward Zephyra was out of time. When she¡¯d returned to the palace empty handed, her father gave her only a vacant smile. His expression remained vacant when she told him about the tower. News of the prophet she kept to herself; however.Surely Alia Ironwing¡¯s machinations accounted for the Sending of the mysterious prophet. Surely. And a stupid gambit at that. Why would Zephyra believe a stranger¡¯s words about her father over her own experience? How utterly ridiculous. ¡°Why so impressed with the destruction of the tower?¡± Artostes reclined on one of the silk divans in the protector¡¯s personal sitting room. He studied his fingernails, as though discussing something as trivial as the weather. ¡°It¡¯s not as if dryads can¡¯t shake the ground. Venatori priests and sorcerers also manage it. Obviously, this Ironwing simply drew upon such powers. As for the amulet, as for the threat, what of them?¡± ¡°And Murad? What glib answer do you have for what happened to him?¡± Zephyra demanded. Artostes stared at her. He opened, then closed his mouth. Other members of her father¡¯s inner circle exchanged glances and whispers with one another. None; however, ventured a satisfactory explanation for the blinding of the seer. Cutting through the chatter Protector Amavand said, ¡°I will stand before the people again. I will stand before them and challenge them to bring Alia Ironwing to me. With her head, or without it.¡± So even he underestimated the threat Ironwing posed. Driven beyond all endurance Zephyra fled the room. All the way to her bedroom she chastised herself for not consulting the Greatest One before she set out to confront Ironwing. Perhaps she would already have Ironwing¡¯s head to give to her father if she had. Once locked away in her apartments Zephyra burned a cone of rose incense. Intense and heady, the perfume of roses swept over her, bringing to mind the walks she took in the garden with her father. Walks taken in better days, when the thought of him dying was foreign and impossible. Nerves steadied, Zephyra began the ritual which would allow the Greatest One to take possession of her mind and body. But instead of her usual excitement she felt only desperation and fear¡ªwhat if the Greatest One did not answer her? Then, finally, a frightful and familiar paralysis came over her again. ¡°You don¡¯t have the sacrifice,¡± the Greatest One observed, referring to the dryad. ¡°Did she escape your grasp, child?¡± So kindly, so concerned did She sound, like a mother soothing a crying child. If only the Greatest One did take bodily form, so Zephyra could throw herself into Her arms. ¡°Surely you know what happened. I must have the means to stop the huntress, Alia Ironwing. We cannot see her movements¡ª¡± ¡°That is because a greater enemy than she has moved to interfere. You saw her this night, did you not? She spoke to you ¡­ told you lies ¡­¡± Zephyra¡¯s heart leapt. Lies, yes! Of course they were lies. But then her heart sank. A greater enemy than the she-wolves? The first one, perhaps? ¡°Yes, she did, Greatest One, but I did not regard her. How should I deal with her?¡± ¡°For now, she is beyond your reach. But the time will come when you will enter her presence. On that day, she will be vulnerable. Believe nothing she says. She can only destroy you if you let her, but she cannot stand against you, my handmaiden.¡± The question danced on Zephyra¡¯s tongue as she summoned the courage to utter it. Part of her wanted to keep silent, suppressing the impulse to speak it aloud. But she could keep nothing hidden from the Greatest One. Especially not now. ¡°The woman said my father will be killed. She said I will hold him in my arms as he dies. That, too, was a lie? Has my father not served You well¡ª¡± The silence of the Greatest One stopped Zephyra cold. Cool anger radiated from that silence. Zephyra trembled. Somehow, she had displeased her goddess. ¡°I beg of you,¡± Zephyra cried, tears streaming down her face. ¡°Greatest One, I beg of you, please.¡± Memories bubbled up in her mind. Of the parchments Father gave her to study. Of the little presents he sent to her when his work kept him from her for too long. Of the way his eyes sparked when he listened to her tell him of some discovery of hers. Coldly, the Greatest One demanded, ¡°Who is first in your heart, Zephyra? If he dies, will you turn your back on Me?¡± Icy terror gripped her heart as a horrible thought reared up in her mind: Would the Greatest One allow Father to die, just to test her? Test her loyalty? ¡°I love You,¡± Zephyra rasped, her throat tight. ¡°Would you love Me less if your father dies?¡± ¡°No! I¡ªI swear it.¡± ¡°Well then,¡± replied the Greatest One, ¡°Be comforted, for your father has been useful to Me, young Zephyra. But you are My handmaiden.¡± Abruptly the Greatest One left her body. The paralysis over, Zephyra collapsed to the altar. Motionless, she let the sobs overtake her. Whether hours or minutes passed, she would never know. How, how had she given the Greatest One cause to doubt her loyalty? Whatever her mistake, why did her father have to be the one to pay for it? And the prophecy of the she-wolves. Why did the Greatest One reveal Her prophecy if nothing could stop it? Wasn¡¯t stopping it the point? But ¡­ what if Her true motive was to test the lengths Zephyra would go to save her father? Was that it? And did the Greatest One believe Zephyra would never exert so much effort on Her behalf? But she would! Until now she never failed in bringing Her the dryads. Nor did she fail in undermining the influence of Arenavachi in the palace. Everything she did, she did for the Greatest One. Why did the Greatest One doubt her now?How must she prove herself, before the she-wolves took her father? Gloom and shadow vanished as pale sunlight filled her room. Dawn. So now it was dawn. And thus passed the solstice night. The last night her father would live, so said the Greatest One¡¯s prophecy. Zephyra wiped her tears. She smoothed out her gown, the same black and gold priestly garment she¡¯d worn when she oh-so-triumphantly told her father the Greatest One had revealed their enemies. Before setting out for the tower she put on the gown again, thinking it fit for meeting Ironwing. And now? All plans and schemes vanished from her mind. What now could she do? Rinnnnggg. Rinnnnggg. Rinnnnnnggg. Startled, Zephyra jerked upright. Were those the bells of Arenavachi? But why would they toll now? Her stomach plunged. The bells of Arenavachi never tolled so early. Not unless the high priest¡ªor the protector¡ªhad died in the night. ¡°Foolish girl, calm yourself,¡± she said aloud. Father still lived. Were he dead, wouldn¡¯t she hear wailing and crying throughout the palace? Yet the bells rang, prompting her to go to her balcony and survey Elamis. Beyond the mists the towers where sorcerers dwelled peaked through, providing spots of color. Nothing stood taller, except for the white granite stele of Arenavachi, which rose from the temple courtyard. Bile rose in Zephyra¡¯s throat at another memory. In this one, her father confidently promised to one day knock down the stele into rubble. But it was your tower turned to rubble, Father. The she-wolves were winning. And the Greatest One was letting them. The final toll sounded, prompting her to hurry from her apartments to the oraculum. Either the high priest had died¡­or the she-wolves were making another move. Either way, she needed to know. Protector Amavand arrived in the oraculum the same time she did, and the remaining seers stood at the ready for them. She latched on to his arm, to his quiet strength, and under her breath she begged the Greatest One to spare him. The great pool in the center of the room showed them what was happening in the town below. At first the bells seemed to be ringing of their own accord, but by the way loose leaves and flower petals were blowing about, they knew a strong wind was the cause of it. Then, in a shimmer of light, the group appeared. The three women, whom the Greatest One had revealed to her. And the two men, whom the goddess had not. The huntress and her male companions were dressed strangely, matching all the outlandish descriptions she¡¯d ever heard of the Lyrcanians. Zephyra fixed her gaze on the huntress. This was Alia Ironwing? She whose face was like a mask? But her eyes were as an eagle¡¯s, ceaselessly probing and assessing everything she saw. Did she mean for the lynx pelt she wore about her neck to be a silent boast of her prowess? The lynx was a highly elusive cat. Sunlight bounced off the amulet she prominently displayed on her chest. With the casual pace of a lioness Ironwing approached the bell pavilion. Arrogant! Did she think herself so untouchable? Seething, Zephyra ground her teeth in the face of Ironwing¡¯s pride. Then again, her pride was not unexpected: she¡¯d dared to set herself against the Greatest One. Below her breath Zephyra again asked, ¡°Oh Greatest, why do you allow her to think she can face You? Why allow her so many victories, so many ways to humiliate my father?¡± Looking at Ironwing made her blood boil, so much so that Zephyra forced herself to concentrate on the Rasena Valentians instead. So¡­normal they looked. Of course, they didn¡¯t fool her. Though these she-wolves meant to look harmless, they still somehow had defeated Murena, the Eel. The Siluran, with her torn clothes, looked like a beggar. As such, she would fare poorly in the eyes of the townspeople. The Elamisi prided themselves on their wealth. Beggars were slaves who had angered their masters so thoroughly the master would throw them out of the household. No one cared for them. Ordinarily. From the reports, Zephyra knew the Siluran had some sort of glamour that allowed her to seduce crowds with her lies. If she spoke before the people, she would turn them against the protector. She had bypassed the shahanshah, which confirmed Protector Amavand was her target. By all appearances she hadn¡¯t even bothered to arm herself, apparently confident in the power of the honeyed poison of her tongue. I will have her tongue. And her hands, they say she writes. Let¡¯s see how she fares when she can¡¯t pass on her deceit. Letting the woman live would be an excruciating fate for her, and Zephyra smiled at the thought of it. The Eitanite appeared unarmed. Well, her confidence Zephyra could understand¡ªthe Eitanim believed the False Ones were false, they just failed to include their Sower as one of the False Ones. Nevertheless, the woman would naturally believe she could swat the Goddess like she would a fly. The Eitanite looked around, glancing up at the citadel only once, then away again. Dismissal? The townspeople began arriving, drawn by the resounding of the bells. When the crowd swelled to a decent size, the fiery-haired she-wolf began speaking. ¡®Bessa,¡¯ she called herself, and immediately started in on Protector Amavand. She spoke of attending the Ever Bright¡¯s Festival, and of her distress when the protector incited the crowd to kill foreign women. Worse, when she fled with the Eitanite jackals ambushed them. Bessa was good, Zephyra had to give her that. The woman knew to mix truth in with her lies, calling the Goddess a demon in the same breath she spoke of the protector worshipping her. Unfortunate indeed, the day when the Siluran learned of Murena. A rare miscalculation on his part, in allowing Gagnon to have the Children attack that bitch¡¯s vineyard. The crowd listened attentively, nodding along or shaking their heads in the right spots. Because of the she-wolf¡¯s glamour, no doubt. Her words were penetrating into their minds; they would not dismiss what she said. Not because she was a foreigner, nor because she looked like a beggar. Or¡ªyes, the Siluran¡¯s clothes were torn and stained, but they were clearly not rags or homespun. Rather, she wore what was once fine quality. Finery, no matter how ruined, marked her as one of them. And as one of them she had been wronged, savaged. The crowd would see themselves in her, hence the anger flashing on their faces to see how she had been so grossly mistreated. ¡°Father,¡± Zephyra said, looking up from the pool. ¡°We need to stop this right now.¡± But Protector Amavand had been quicker, and he only nodded at her, gesturing for her to look back to the pool. Now she saw one of the Manticoran guard flying over the lake, javelin in hand. The mists would conceal him from the view of the crowd. But as soon as he emerged, the Eitanite saw him. She acted swiftly, throwing lightning at him. Gasps erupted from the seers surrounding the pool. Everyone stood stunned for several heartbeats. Lightning. The Eitanite threw lightning, as though she were a khrestai. Which is exactly what the naive townspeople would compare her to. Artostes rallied, ¡°Look, we know they faced the Children twice. So of course they have one of their weapons. It doesn¡¯t mean anything.¡± ¡°Oh, doesn¡¯t it? Do our people know of these weapons? Does the shahanshah?¡± Zephyra snapped. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. No. They shouldn¡¯t, for her father¡¯s people had made every effort to control what the high king knew, and what the people of Elamis knew. Number one on the list: make sure the wrong people did not learn about the quiver of thunderbolts. Now the Elamisi knew. Now they would wonder. In Elamis of all places, the sorcerers would not let such a weapon go unchallenged, unstudied. And when the high king heard of it, he would want them for himself¡ªand if all went wrong, he would learn that Amavand knew of the weapons, and had kept them from him. If it all goes wrong? What¡¯s gone right?! Artostes looked at her, his mouth open. Protector Amavand straightened his spine, turned on his heel and left without a word. Should she stay, or follow him? Below, the she-wolf was calling for the truth-seers. ¡°The nerve of that woman!¡± Zephyra seethed. Any seer who would answer the call were sure to be in the service of the False Ones, who would agree with any claim Bessa made. But the people would believe the False Ones. They would believe what the seers said. As fast as she could, Zephyra ran to her father¡¯s apartments. The door banged against the wall, she flung it open so hard. Protector Amavand stood in his sitting room, resplendent in his golden armor. Two of the armor bearers jumped, startled by the door bang. The third armor bearer recovered quickly, and finished strapping on the greaves, completing the armor. He knelt down when he spotted Zephyra, just as his companions had already done. She bid him to rise with an impatient flick of her fingers. ¡°Leave us,¡± she said. They stood, and bowed their heads to the protector. ¡°Your Majesty?¡± The protector nodded, and the armor bearers left. As soon as they were alone, Protector Amavand smiled at Zephyra. His eyes were so gentle, so tender, that Zephyra felt as if a dam in her heart were about to burst. She inhaled sharply, costing herself the opportunity to speak first. ¡°My daughter,¡± said Protector Amavand, clasping her shoulders. ¡°Stay here. I will face them. You must stay out of this.¡± All of her frustration came to the fore then. First Gira had tried to shackle her, dogging her steps so that she could not search effectively for the she-wolves. Then the Goddess had made it clear She wouldn¡¯t intervene to save Protector Amavand. Now the protector himself was trying to hold Zephyra back, when she was his only hope. ¡°No,¡± she snarled. ¡°No, Your Majesty¡ªFather¡ªI can¡¯t stay here and just watch¡ª¡± He patted her cheek, smiling indulgently. ¡°Zephyra, you will do as I tell you¡ª¡± ¡°The Goddess is going to let them kill you!¡± she blurted, forcing herself to say it out loud. The protector lowered his hands, staring at her. The silence seemed to go on for an eternity. His eyes searched hers, while her heart beat so fast she was sure he could hear it. Against her will, the tears came. ¡°Father, I begged Her,¡± Zephyra rasped. ¡°I begged Her to save you. But¡ª¡± He took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. ¡°All will be well,¡± he whispered. ¡°Do not cry, Zephyra. All will be well. Dry your tears, my love. This is the time to show our strengths.¡± He disengaged, leaving her standing motionless in the middle of the room. At that moment, she noticed he¡¯d used his left hand. Unusual, for he was right-handed. But in his right fist he clenched an object, something attached to a fine chain of gold around his neck. The nectar of the Goddess. ¡°Guards,¡± he called out, to the men she couldn¡¯t see. ¡°Keep the Handmaiden safe in here. I am going out.¡± She rushed for the door, but Protector Amavand himself closed it. ¡°Father!¡± Zephyra pounded on the door. His footsteps echoed on the marble, loudly at first. Then faintly. Soon enough, even the echo of his passing vanished. Her shoulders shook. It took everything she had to calm herself again. Pacing back and forth did nothing to help her think. Questions swirled in her mind. Would the she-wolves strike down the protector immediately? Or would they toy with him first, let him think he stood a chance against them? Would the Eitanite use her thunderbolt quiver, or would the huntress use her daggers? Or would they allow the Siluran to incite the crowd to rip the protector to pieces? Finally, she rushed for the balcony and looked down. The portal to the lakefront shimmered, and moments later her father emerged from it on his drake. Now she looked up, to the aerie on the highest level of the palace. The fire drakes kept there would get her to the town square below. To the aerie she must go.
Zephyra descended swiftly, carefully skirting the edge of the lake, so as to avoid the Yellow Serpent. For as long as she could she cloaked herself in the mists. If the Eitanite should see her¡­ Protector Amavand had made his way to the bell pavilion now, and was standing face to face with the Siluran, who was now flanked by two seers. One Zephyra recognized as the arch priest of the Great Liar, Arenavachi. All eyes were on Protector Amavand. No one looked back, and thus Zephyra dismounted, and hurried over to a low stone fence. A tamarisk tree, still bearing its leaves, was near enough to the fence to let her climb it. Now she could watch without being seen. ¡°¡­ so nice a speech you gave, Your Majesty,¡± the Siluran was saying. ¡°But what I want to know is what you have to say to all the foreign women you tried to have killed last night. Or will you try to convince us that a leader does not know the connection between cause and effect?¡± She touched her arm, and for the first time Zephyra noticed the bandage around it. ¡°You do not speak our language, so you may not be aware I insisted no blood be shed on my account.¡± The crowd murmured, looking hopefully up at their protector. He did look regal in his armor. Whereas, the Siluran looked as if she¡¯d been ravished, her clothes torn asunder. Zephyra frowned, her worst fears confirmed. The Siluran was clever enough to make herself look like a wounded, innocent victim. But, then again, the Siluran really did face Delir and his jackals. So, her appearance was not exactly artifice. Rather, it was a truth to leaven with her lies. All the same, Zephyra could tell by the looks the crowd exchanged that Bessa¡¯s appearance fit the stories better: someone weak had been wronged by someone powerful. And in the stories, her virtue and daring would win her the way into the palace, where she would stand before the protector and demand justice. Zephyra¡¯s muscles locked in tension. Was her father thinking of the stories? Apologize now, Father. Be gallant if you would win the people to your side. You will defang her glamour right there¡ª The Siluran¡¯s smile was lethal. ¡°Indeed, it was kind of you to say there should be no blood shed, after going to the trouble of stirring up the people to do exactly that. ¡®She-wolf,¡¯ you said, attempting to manipulate your people to think of innocent strangers as ravenous beasts. And you want us to believe you expected peace and calmness to ensue? There is too much grey in your hair for that, Your Majesty.¡± Attempting, she¡¯d said. Zephyra¡¯s nostrils flared. The Siluran was smart enough to play on the townspeople¡¯s desires to cast themselves in a good light. She¡¯d absolved them of any blame for her suffering, making it seem as if their moral fiber was strong enough to resist the oh-so-wicked ruler. Protector Amavand didn¡¯t glance around; he kept his eyes on the Siluran. ¡°Ah, I was emotional at the thought of strangers stealing into my land to kill me. I have misspoke, and for that you have my apology. But now that brings us to you¡ª¡± ¡°It must have been frightful, for a protector so powerful, so well-guarded, so high up from his people, to imagine three mere women would somehow break into his citadel and slay him. Why, even the dragon you keep between yourself and your people is not to be trusted with your safekeeping! I take it you are often fending off strange women, Your Majesty?¡± She cocked her head, comically feigning concern for him. The crowd tittered, but without mirth. Damn, the Siluran used the stories far too well. She skillfully cast herself as small and vulnerable, and the protector as great and powerful. The latter was true, which made her choice resonate. Worse, she was twisting the facts to make it seem as if Protector Amavand disdained to be near his subjects. If he was so just, they would wonder, why did he keep himself apart? They would forget the hero who had bound the Yellow Serpent to guard the lake in generations past, they would forget the grandeur of the ancient palace, they would forget how normal it was for a ruler to have defenses for his stronghold. Instead, they would see things as the she-wolf was shading them. From her vantage point, Zephyra couldn¡¯t see Protector Amavand¡¯s expression. What was he doing? Why was he letting the she-wolf get the better of him? No one had ever done that. Oh? And who has tried? It occurred to her now that the she-wolf was used to dealing with crowds. Telling stories to a live audience obliged her to learn how to evaluate their reactions, how to please them, how to smoothly adjust her delivery to their moods. Whereas, Protector Amavand only spoke to crowds, on ceremonial occasions. Crowds where people were primed to accept what he said; he never had to win their favor or convince them to agree with him. Because he had culled those not aligned with him, he didn¡¯t even have to argue his positions amongst the nobility. Something he¡¯d always mocked the shahanshah for having to do. Until now, Zephyra always thought keeping only those loyal to the Greatest One showed her father¡¯s power and devotion, she now saw his insularity in a different light. Now it dawned on her that the protector being surrounded only by those who agreed with him¡ªor refused to express disagreement¡ªensured the protector lacked the training and the experience to face down the she-wolf. Oh, Father. End this. Have the soldiers arrest them and have done with it. Zephyra¡¯s gaze strayed to the Eitanite, and her splendid thunderbolt quiver. If the she-wolves chose not to go peacefully, the soldiers would have to take them by force, and they would be cut down. What would happen then, if the people saw that the protector¡¯s men could not carry out his orders? Her heart sank. No matter what happened now, the she-wolves would win. Images rammed their way into her mind just then, of her father lying broken on the ground, the light fading from his eyes. She dug her nails into the tree bark. Why? Why? Why did the Greatest One decide to abandon him? ¡°You have made grave charges against me, sh¡ªstranger.¡± Protector Amavand¡¯s tone was solemn, with an edge. ¡°You have accused me of acts so heinous that I wonder at your sanity.¡± ¡°One of us would have to be insane, to tell a lie in the presence of an alethomantis, let alone the high priest of Arenavachi. They have certified my words. Will they certify yours?¡± the Siluran demanded. So confident, as if she already knew the False One¡¯s servants would decide in her favor. ¡°Naturally they certify yours,¡± Protector Amavand said smoothly. ¡°And soon enough, all will see why.¡± He walked up the steps. Taller than she, he loomed over her when he came to the same step where she stood. For a moment it seemed as if he wanted to force her to back up. The Siluran stood her ground, and Protector Amavand adroitly turned to stand next to her. Zephyra winced. Did he not understand the roles the Siluran had cast them in? Getting in her face would look brutish to people already skeptical of him. He would be seen as trying to intimidate a victim, not as a ruler masterfully facing an unjust and malicious accuser. Protector Amavand glanced up at Ironwing, who watched him impassively. If he was glaring at her, she was unmoved by it. Too late, it occurred to Zephyra that the huntress lent a gravitas, a legitimacy to the Siluran: the immortal Ta-Setians did not randomly involve themselves in mortal affairs. Their age jaded them; if they troubled themselves to get involved it meant something unusual was afoot. The Elamisi would not dismiss Ironwing out of hand. Amavand turned to face the people, holding out his hand in invitation to the high priest. He gave a dismissive nod to Behnam, or tried to, but Behnam remained where he was. In ordinary times Behnam should have given way, for the protector was lord over him. Only the high priest had the standing to deal with Protector Amavand. In normal times. Dismayed, Zephyra wanted to shut her eyes, to look away from her father¡¯s mistakes, but she couldn¡¯t. The nectar would show its worth soon. Perhaps all along Amavand had been giving the Siluran rope to hang herself with. ¡°Let it be so,¡± she whispered. ¡°So I am accused,¡± Protector Amavand said to Fravak. ¡°And you aid and abet them.¡± The high priest drew himself upright. ¡°I am a priest of Arenavachi. I aid and abet the truth only, Your Majesty. Let us begin.¡± Ironwing moved then, reaching into the green leather garment hanging from her shoulders. The overall garment was constructed in a fascinating way. It was fitted, and leather, like the coats worn in Elamis, but the similarity ended there. For one thing, she was wearing it, and only men wore coats in Elamis. Not only that, but somehow she had patterns stamped or cut into it. Ironwing must have obtained her coat from the Gandhari, because her sleeves were permanently attached. And in the Gandhari fashion the sleeves opened at the end, allowing her hands to pass through. Which meant she could freely use her hands. An unsubtle threat. Traditionally, when men came to visit the high king or the satraps, they always put their hands in the sleeves of their coats. Except their coat sleeves did not have an opening at the end, leaving their hands trapped so they could not readily strike at the king. The slit on Ironwing¡¯s garment presented another oddity, but the purpose became obvious soon enough when Ironwing put her hand in one of them, and pulled out a piece of parchment. ¡°Do you recognize this woman, Your Majesty?¡± She unfolded the parchment and held it up for Protector Amavand to see. ¡°And you are?¡± Palpable disdain in his voice. ¡°A servant of the Huntress,¡± she snapped. Murmurs in the crowd, of ¡°the golden eagle.¡± ¡°Did you send the eagle to attack me, then?¡± ¡°Your priority right now should be on proving your honesty,¡± Ironwing said coldly. ¡°Here is a simple test for you to pass or fail: do you recognize this woman, or don¡¯t you?¡± Protector Amavand drew back. Others in the audience stretched their necks, trying to see the paper, but Zephyra was too far away to bother. Nevertheless, her heart pounded. Ironwing surely meant the question as a trap. ¡°I do,¡± the protector said, glancing at Fravak. ¡°T-truth,¡± Fravak said, shaking slightly. Ironwing noticed his fear. ¡°Why so nervous, Guileless One? Do you have something you wish to say? Something about the woman in the drawing, perhaps?¡± The high priest cleared his throat. Addressing the townspeople he said, ¡°The drawing is of the woman our echomancers saw. This woman murdered Gira, son of Gushtam.¡± Audible comments came fast and fierce. Desperate not to lose control, Zephyra closed her eyes and counted to ten. ¡°I did not order her to do that,¡± Protector Amavand said quickly, and for a moment Zephyra¡¯s heart did somersaults. ¡°Truth,¡± Fravak certified. But Ironwing didn¡¯t allow Protector Amavand to seize the high ground. ¡°Order her, you say? So, she is someone who takes orders from you? It couldn¡¯t be one of these people, could it? You live so far up from them.¡± And there it was. The trap was closed, her father had admitted to knowing her. The Siluran addressed the crowd, ¡°Let the scribes write that the protector admits to knowing the one who committed murder in Arenavachi¡¯s halls. Just as I said he did.¡± ¡°Ohhhh,¡± Zephyra moaned. Whatever her father was going to do, he needed to do it now. ¡°And what will you do about her, Your Majesty?¡± Ironwing demanded. ¡°Guileless One, what is the penalty in Elamis for murder in a temple?¡± Fravak hesitated. ¡°Execution, huntress.¡± ¡°Your Majesty, have you executed this murderer, this defiler of the temple of the goddess you supposedly serve?¡± Zephyra inhaled. Ironwing was going to demand her head, she was sure of it. Protector Amavand must have realized it as well, for he shouted, ¡°Enough! I came down here for one reason only, to show my people who the true deceivers are!¡± His right hand was between both of Fravak¡¯s, but now he suddenly put his left hand on top. Fravak let out a yelp. ¡°Arenavachi does not like liars, does She?¡± Protector Amavand haughtily asked. ¡°You see my people, see how this so-called priest cannot bear my touch. It is because he is the unfaithful one, in league with these she-wolves!¡± Face vividly red and sheened with sweat, Fravak writhed, trying desperately to escape Protector Amavand¡¯s grasp. Drawing the attention of the Eitanite, whose hand went straight to her thunder quiver. ¡°Help me!¡± Fravak screamed. Ironwing moved then. The sigils on her Huntress knives glowed painfully bright, forcing people to look away. More, she moved so quickly that it took several heartbeats to realize what she had done. She reared back, her eyes on the protector, holding her knives out to strike a second time. Protector Amavand looked down. So did Fravak. Protector Amavand raised his arms, and all murmuring stopped. Where his hands should have been were two smoking stumps. Zephyra clamped a hand over her mouth. Her stomach plunged in horror. Someone in the crowd swore, others screamed. Fravak screamed again, dropping the severed hand still in his grasp. ¡°It burns,¡± he cried out, shaking off the blood and the hand on top of his. They fell wetly onto the steps, between him and the shocked protector. ¡°Something¡¯s happening!¡± Now the Siluran stepped back, grabbing Fravak¡¯s arm and taking him with her. She pointed at something on the steps, something Zephyra could not see. ¡°Kill it!¡± she cried. Chapter 27: Secret of the Mynah Chapter XXVII Secret of the Mynah In which Zephyra is betrayed Now Edana moved, seeing the creatures for herself. Two scaly, slimy things grew bigger every time she blinked, and the crowd screamed. The things resolved themselves into human-like shapes, maintaining their scales, and adding long, ferocious teeth and talons. A silver line shimmered around the pavilion, indication of a shield spell. Barring the monsters from escaping; keeping back any one of the Elamisi who might attempt heroics. Tregarde¡¯s doing; just in time Edana saw him lower his arm before he charged over to Alia. Pounding footsteps sounded in Edana¡¯s ears, then at once Sheridan stood beside her. Through the clamor of the crowd, one word emerged, repeated over and over. ¡°Rabisu! Rabisu!¡± Edana jolted. When she was a little girl, her father told her of a blood-sucking arsha¡¯t?m which feasted on the blood of humans. It lurked on roofs and doorways, to ambush its victims: the rabisu. They¡¯re no danger to little girls who get home before dark, Papa claimed. Until this moment, she thought he¡¯d made up the monsters to keep her and Bessa from waiting until the street glowlights came on before ending their play for the day. Oh by the Sower! Why didn¡¯t Papa tell us how to kill them? The lord of Elamis fell back, and Bessa leapt away from him, this time not needing to prod the high priest into moving. She ushered the priest past Edana, heading for the opposite side of the pavilion. Meanwhile, Edana ran toward the rabisu, thrusting her hand into her pouch as she did so. Though child-like in size now, the arsh¡¯at?m threatened to grow bigger. Only a handful of Halie¡¯s salt remained, and she prayed it would be enough. In an arc she flung the salt outward, pelting both of the monsters. The creatures screamed, with such force the ground shook. Those in the audience who had not yet fled now fell to their knees. However, Edana remained upright, thanks to the amulet Ziri gave her before their assault on the Red Daggers. Smoke furled up from the monsters. Their scales glowed black, then red as they began to separate, revealing molten skin beneath. Burning from the inside out, the rabisus collapsed upon themselves in a smoking ruin. Bessa returned, stepping past Edana and striding toward the protector. He stumbled backward, as if to escape her, then righted himself. What he might have done next they would never know, for in a blur of motion Alia emerged beside him. An iridescent flash of light, and the next thing they knew she held the crook of her blade poised less than an inch from his neck. Should he take another backward step he would meet her knife. Swallowing hard, he remained still. Leaving Tregarde free to make his next move. Slicing open his hand, the sorcerer uttered a single word. Instantly Protector Amavand became ramrod straight, his arms held straight out: a paralysis spell overtook him. Unhindered now, Bessa descended the steps to stand just above Amavand. Fine white salt sifted through her fingers, coating his stumps. Now it was Amavand¡¯s turn to scream, soulful and agonized. More black smoke poured out of ruined flesh, which began to decay rapidly. The exposed parts of his forearms turned green, then black. Edana watched, fascinated. Did the decay extend up his arms? Would it encompass the rest of his body? The townspeople clustered around Tregarde¡¯s spellshield shared her fascination, their eyes fixed on their lord. But for Protector Amavand¡¯s wailing, all was deathly silent. Privately, Edana cheered. No one would question, no one would doubt that Protector Amavand had allied himself with evil forces. Now it should be easy to find allies, and secure aid. Then she sobered. After all, the Elamisi now understood what their lord was. But his court was another matter. Amavand¡¯s court still lived. Undefeated. Unbroken. Unfettered. And they could summon their infernal queen. ¡°By the Truthsayer¡­¡± the high priest whispered. ¡°We need to get him away from here,¡± Edana said urgently, gesturing for the others to come to her. Overhead, the stele of Aletheia loomed, bright and shining against the dull blue sky. Graceful, majestic, the ancient stele was hewn from stark white granite. According to Bessa¡¯s travel guide the structure had been erected nearly a millennia ago. The giants would make short work of it. That is, unless the sorcerers of Elamis could come up with a protection spell potent enough to counter the giants¡¯ stone-breaking sounds. ¡°Guileless One,¡± she called, gesturing him to join her friends. High Priest Fravak gingerly stepped over to them, glancing back all the while at the remains of the two rabisu she¡¯d killed. ¡°Listen to me,¡± Edana said, pitching her voice low. For emphasis she tapped her thunder mace. The Lyrcanians eyed it with open curiosity; she and Bessa had not shown it to them earlier because they didn''t have time to safely demonstrate how it worked. ¡°This weapon came from giants. They¡¯ve been attacking Rasena Valentis, and on the night the sky burned green we fought one of many battles against them. Along with these they have other weapons, weapons of such power as to knock down stone buildings merely with a sound. This thunder mace is a smaller version of a gigantic weapon. One reason we came here was to find counter spells¡ª¡± ¡°Yes, but¡ª¡± Her eyes flashed as she cut him off. ¡°The giants are allied with Erebossi. He was allied with a bel nakri¡ªa queen of Erebossa.¡± She gestured to the screaming man. ¡°His followers are not all dead, and the giants can teleport. Do you understand?¡± High Priest Fravak paled. ¡°By the Goddess. What¡ª¡± ¡°Your strongest sorcerers,¡± Edana pressed on, as if he hadn¡¯t said anything. ¡°The ones you trust, the ones you can certify are faithful and are not in the service of the protector or his abyssal queen. Summon them now to the Aletheia¡¯s Fane, and have the townspeople come inside. If we need to make a stand, we¡¯ll do it there. Understand?¡± Fravak nodded, slowly at first, then his features hardened with determination. ¡°It will be done.¡± A silver bubble formed around Amavand. At a gesture from Tregarde it floated to his side, carrying Amavand. Sheridan moved to the other side, and together the two men escorted the satrap to the temple. Now Alia turned to the crowd, flanked by Bessa and Edana. Warily, the crowd eyed her. ¡°Good people of Elamis,¡± she began. ¡°I am Alia Ironwing, priestess of the Huntress. I was trained and raised by dryads, who sent me here to investigate the one corrupting their groves. Your protector is my quarry, for it is he who made war upon the dryads. Let me warn you now: the Huntress gives no quarter to those who harm Her daughters, or aids those who do.¡± She let the threat linger for a moment, then added, ¡°I am going now, with my companions, to prepare in the defense of this city, against the Erebossi allied with Protector Amavand, such as the ones you saw here. I will brook no opposition. Some of you may still cling to foolish loyalty to your lord. Be warned: you should visit what¡¯s left of the tower in the park before you think of testing us.¡± Alia, Tregarde, and Sheridan had set a trap on it, Edana remembered. Anyone bearing the ichor of the bel nakri in their veins would die a quick, agonizing death. The women left quickly, before the people could react. Gratifyingly enough, Alia¡¯s warning seemed to have penetrated, because a multitude of people began hurrying toward the fane. Amongst them, the truth-seer Behnam, shepherding a pair of young women. As soon as he reached the threshold of the temple Edana shot out her arm across his path, forcing him to stop and notice her. Startled, he reflexively maneuvered his charges behind himself, as if to protect them. Chagrined, Edana adopted a benign expression. ¡°Peace, Behnam. Listen to me. The people trust you. We need all of the townspeople to take refuge, for their own safety.¡± His face cleared, and he nodded, understanding her at once. ¡°But Protector Amavand ¡­? Surely he will die?¡± Hope bloomed in his eyes. ¡°His daughter still lives,¡± Edana quietly reminded him. The light in his eyes died quickly, and for a moment his jaw quivered. Then he squared his shoulders. ¡°Understood. I will go now.¡± He whispered something to the young women who accompanied him. The women nodded. One hugged him, and one kissed his cheek. Both women released him. The woman on the right, wearing a silky woolen caftan, stared sidelong at Edana as she entered the temple. Behnam watched the women go. Once they were inside he ran back down the steps of the temple and joined Aletheia¡¯s priests. Edana looked over at the citadel. The morning mists hovered over the lake, but patches of the citadel peeked through. Was the Handmaiden there? Did she know what had happened? How long before she retaliated? How long before giants appeared? Edana set her mouth in a thin line. The Elamisi had to have sorcerers who could withstand the giants. They had to. She turned on her heel and hurried into the temple. They had work to do.
Zephyra¡¯s heart had been in her mouth as she ran to the edge of the crowd. In her mind¡¯s eye fissures appeared in her heart, growing longer and wider as she witnessed what became of her father¡¯s hands. Rabisu, the people had said. Rabisu. Arsh¡¯at?m. Bloodsucking arsh¡¯at?m, low as low can get. Why had her father¡¯s blood given birth to those things? Especially after he drank the nectar of the Greatest One. Such a grotesque metamorphosis should not have happened after drinking in the divine. What happened? And how had it happened? Questions swirled in her mind, even as her stomach lurched. One thought loomed large in her mind. Her father had tricked her. He hadn¡¯t taken the nectar of the Goddess, after all. Instead he must have summoned an abyssal to aid him. And, in his emotional state¡ªcaused by those wicked she-wolves¡ªhe had failed to bind the abyssal properly. Nor did he word the agreement carefully enough. Yes, that had to be it. In his hastiness, he¡¯d handed the she-wolves the very weapon they needed to turn the people against him. Tears stung her eyes. ¡°What are they saying?¡± someone asked. Zephyra stood on her tiptoes and peered over the shoulders of the people in front of her. In the distance the Rasena Valentians and the Lyrcanians were conferring amongst each other, with the truth-seer Behnam on the edges. But one of the Lyrcanians had begun levitating her father, whom he¡¯d encased in a protective shield. All at once she realized what they were doing. The temple. They were going to move him there. To let him die out of sight? To gloat? It didn¡¯t matter. What did matter was that she find a way inside, without being seen. Alia had begun addressing the crowd, uttering a threat that Zephyra had seen for herself was not empty. She shuddered, thinking of the screams of Nariman and the other Manticoran Guards, of the way her own fingers burned when she¡¯d touched Delir¡¯s amulet. The huntress swept away without a backward glance, heading for Arenavachi¡¯s Fane. It was all Zephyra could do not to rush after her, but she remembered just in time that Ironwing knew what she looked like. Likely her companions knew as well. Zephyra looked over the crowd. Sadly, Artostes had not joined their ranks. Had he come, he would have been able to secrete her into the temple without anyone noticing. But of course, he remained the palace, sensibly watching over events via the oraculum. And she had no time to go back for him. Well, she was not without her own abilities. ¡°I will pass between,¡± she whispered. ¡®Passing between,¡¯ as Artostes called it, was a fading from sight and memory. It was a form of a Sending, except it meant partially walking Erebossa in bodily form. Though Zephyra was skilled in the power of negation, she had not ever tested herself in this fashion before. Passing between would take supreme finesse, and exquisite control. To leave this world and enter the next while she still lived was no light undertaking. If she got it wrong, she would die. If she got it right¡­ She raised her hand to her diadem. Blessed by the Goddess, it augmented her powers. Her hand trembled slightly. Entering Erebossa without permission from the Goddess would expose her to unspeakable terrors. In Erebossa, Zephyra would be exposed to the eyes of the False Ones, and their agents. She fixed her gaze on Arenavachi¡¯s Fane. It was a short distance away. So short. But within Erebossa she could move quickly, find her father, and drive away anyone surrounding him. ¡°Greatest One, I beg Your protection,¡± Zephyra prayed. ¡°Shield me, Greatest One, as I pass between.¡± Gripping her diadem, Zephyra focused her will upon it. An overwhelming chill took hold of her then, as if she¡¯d gone to the tops of the mountains where dragons rested and trees could not grow. Darkness surrounded her. A few feet away everything and everyone glimmered in a silvery blue haze. The air rippled, as if everyone around her walked below a lake or a pool, and she was staring down at them. She turned, pointing her feet toward the fane. That was when she saw them. Her heart leapt into her throat, cutting off her screams. Looming over her were two gigantic beasts. Though shaped as men, they sucked away all light. Their eyes glowed a sickly yellow, with slitted pupils that roved two and fro as they glared down at her. They carried swords made of shadow, clutched in skeletal talons. Zephyra could not explain to herself later how she did it¡ªone moment, one of the creatures was reaching for her, causing her to involuntarily lash out as if to slap him¡ªand the next moment, she stood in the doorway of the temple. Motionless, stunned, she stared at the now-distant fellshades. They stared back. One took a step toward her. ¡°In the name of the Greatest One, stay away from me!¡± Again the air shimmered in front of her. A barrier, like the one the Lyrcanians used around the pavilion. No one with mortal sight could see her. People walked through her and around her, all clamoring to get inside, where they believed the foreigners would protect them from the rabisu they¡¯d so ably killed. Zephyra could not bring herself to scoff at them. What the Eitanite did wasn¡¯t remarkable at all; anyone with blessed sea salt could kill rabisu. The Elamisi would remember that before long. Then she remembered that the sorcerers of Elamis no longer enjoyed their full powers. All part of her father¡¯s plan, to draw them into the fold once he revealed the Goddess, and the benefits of allegiance to Her. Unfortunately, he never made it to the next stage, so the mages might naturally doubt they could wield the salt as easily as the Eitanite had. By the Goddess, everything was going wrong. But Zephyra had no time for tears now, she had to find her father. She flowed through and around the crowd, seeking the she-wolves. Where they were, so also her father would be. Their auras disquieted her. Opalescent rays, like moonbow steel swirled about them when she last saw them. As though they were holy, celestial. And wherever they went, they left an opalescent trail which led her unerringly through a labyrinth of corridors. At last she came to a door, which she passed through. Again her blood ran cold. Two more abyssals¡ªor were they the same ones?¡ªstood over her father, a ghastly parody of his Manticoran Guard. Her father lay on a bier, still encased in a silver shield. A thin yet formidable barrier which held back the abyssals which battered mercilessly against it. Nevertheless, it held fast. Several feet away the three she-wolves held court, alongside the two men of Lyrcania. One of the men, pale-faced with carob-colored hair, kept pacing back and forth through one of the abyssals, giving no sign that he knew it was there. Zephyra¡¯s heart pounded. For the moment, the abyssals didn¡¯t perceive her. For the moment, she could marshal her powers. This time, she could not flee. Either she stood her ground, or she abandoned her father. As she watched, Alia went over to the bier and reached through the abyssal on her father¡¯s left. In her hand she held a sharp metal stylus. Cruel, remorseless, she jabbed it into Protector Amavand¡¯s stump. Utterly without care if she caused him pain or not. Protector Amavand made no reaction, and Zephyra swelled with a pride that was quickly extinguished when she saw his aura. Dim, sickly yellow-green. Like pus. He was dying. Anger surged through her. She opened her hands and flung them in the direction of the abyssals. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Leave him! By the Greatest One, I command you to leave him!¡± The infernal wraiths noticed her then, smoke swirling around the place where their heads should be. The smoke cleared just enough for her to make out pale, ruined flesh, the face of a corpse long trapped under water. Zephyra let out a wordless roar, heating the air around her as she gathered the Greatest One¡¯s gifts to her. She raised her hands, preparing to attack, when the abominable sentinels vanished on the spot. Blood thundered in her ears. Thrown off balance, she had to stop to regain mastery of herself. When she could hear normally again she heard Alia saying, ¡°¡­we have her. Finally!¡± Unmistakable triumph in her voice. Seething, Zephyra took a moment to entertain fantasies of tearing Ironwing to pieces. If anyone deserved to be tormented by Erebossi, it was the baleful foreigners in this room. But the Protector let out a shuddering breath, bringing Zephyra back to herself. Chastened, she glided over to her father and planted herself beside him. ¡°Should we kill him, then? We need a Marinite here to dispose of him properly,¡± the Siluran was saying. ¡°One of my priests could do it,¡± the Eitanite offered. ¡°We¡¯re far enough from the sea that I wouldn¡¯t count on there being Marinites here.¡± Bitches. They would pay. Later. For now, Zephyra did her best to shut them out, focusing all her will on her father. ?Father,? she began. If he truly had drank the nectar then he should be able to see her. Protector Amavand¡¯s eyes swiveled sharply, before settling on her. His body flinched, then went still. ?Zephyra¡ªhow is it that you¡¯re¡ª? ?Tell me of the mynah, Father.? It slipped out. Normally, she never outright said what she wanted. To do so was an invitation to be thwarted. To teach you patience, her father claimed. Patience and contentment with what she already had, what he had already given her¡ªwhat she never sought nor asked for. She was not to seek, only to accept. Father closed his eyes, and took another shuddering breath. ?You should not have come here. Not like this.? ?I am not afraid of the dwellers of Erebossa, my lord.? It took everything she had to keep the bite out of her voice. ?Oh, Zephyra¡­Zephyra¡­they are not¡­? his inner voice trailed off. When he began again he startled her by asking a question she did not expect. ?What?!? ?You saw the woman, didn¡¯t you? Regal, like a queen, dressed in purple with a silvery light about her.? Father described her so perfectly that Zephyra¡¯s heart sank. ?You know of her? Who is she? Father¡ª?? Protector Amavand¡¯s smile was sad, and his eyes turned glassy. For several heartbeats he didn¡¯t speak. ?This day would come, she said. She is a prophet. Powerful. I underestimated her. Now comes the hour she foretold. She said she would exert herself in my favor if I confessed the truth to you.? ?Why believe her? Do you know she told me you lied every day to me?? Zephyra replied, a note of accusation creeping into her voice. ?I have lied. I have, Zephyra. Every day I let you think I was your father, every day I called you ¡®Zephyra,¡¯ and let you think you were my daughter.? ?What?!? Shock almost robbed her of concentration. Just in time, she caught herself becoming corporeal again. What¡ªWhere¡ªwhat did her father mean? For hours she¡¯d been pondering the prophet¡¯s words. In the end she concluded that if the prophet spoke truly, she had meant to accuse Protector Amavand of being half-hearted in his service of the Greatest One. Such a transgression would explain why the Greatest One would abandon him so remorselessly to the she-wolves. ?I shall explain¡­? he promised. ?I have this much time left.?
Twenty years ago¡­ ¡°It cannot be Amavand. Your Majesty. It cannot be Amavand.¡± The seer stood over his lord¡¯s desk, bent at the waist with his hands splayed flat on the reddish surface of the tamarisk wood. Protector Baraz stared pointedly at the man¡¯s hands, and the seer quickly withdrew them, folding his hands behind his back. The seer cleared his throat, but met his lord¡¯s eyes, insistently holding his gaze. ¡°Your Majesty, if you choose Amavand as your successor, he will destroy your land. He will destroy Elamis.¡± ¡°You think he is weak.¡± The protector of Elamis spoke matter-of-factly, in a quiet, dangerous tone that put Zephyra on her guard. ¡°I do not deny it. Your son may not be weak in loyalty to you, but he is weak in other ways. Weak of mind. Weak of will. Clay in the hands of anyone strong enough to mold him, and there are many who have that strength, Your Majesty. Your son has no principle of his own he will stand up for. No mind of his own, that he might reason out his own principles. Everything he does, he does to cultivate the favor of those who succor him. And while you¡¯re on the throne, he¡¯ll seek your favor. But when you are gone¡ªwhen you are gone, Your Majesty¡ª¡± Protector Baraz rose, silencing him. Clasping his hands behind his back, he strolled over to his balcony. He looked out over the city. Below, people walked to and fro on their errands as the sun approached its zenith for the day. ¡°Who is it that you believe will corrupt my son?¡± Protector Baraz asked, not looking back at the seer. Zephyra, standing invisibly next to the seer, marveled at the protector¡¯s resemblance to her father. Except, she had to admit, that Protector Baraz had the stronger features. Graced with chiseled, well defined features, his face seemed carved from fine marble. Strong jaw, keen eyes. In his bearing, in his every gesture he exuded authority and power. Even from her current vantage point across time he awed her with his presence. In contrast, Protector Amavand¡¯s face was softer, as if shaped by hand¡­from clay. Guilt swelled in her; comparing the two men seemed a betrayal somehow of her father. Who was not her father. Still stunned by Protector Amavand¡¯s extraordinary claim her thoughts became sluggish. It could not be so. It could not be so that he wasn¡¯t her father. No memory came to mind of any other candidate for her true father. Why would she not remember him? Not remembering her mother made sense, because Protector Amavand always claimed her mother died in childbirth. Now Zephyra mentally cringed, feeling foolish. Since when did Elamisi women die in childbirth, here in the City of Magi where the most powerful magi in all of Thuraia could be found? Answers to all of her questions remained elusive at the moment, however. Instead she must focus on the world through Father¡¯s¡ªAmavand¡¯s¡ªeyes. Currently, he was spying on his father, through a scryer¡¯s globe. And with him, a seer, Pishkar¡ªwith hair! So young he looked, almost unrecognizable from the rather wizened man who died two winters ago. How had Pishkar managed to spy on Protector Baraz? The lord¡¯s rooms were supposed to be proof against scrying. Or had that been Protector Amavand¡¯s innovation, because he had remembered the transgressions of his youth? The seer replied, ¡°There is no one name I can give you, Your Majesty. It is not a simple matter of ¡®eliminate this one person and all will be well.¡¯ It is your son¡¯s nature that is the problem. It is who will attach themselves to him if he is protector. Some will be near. Some will come from afar. And some will not be of this world.¡± Protector Baraz turned back sharply at that last. The seer again met his eyes, forthright. ¡°Not of this world? What do you See? You¡¯ve had a vision, have you not? Speak of it, and hold nothing back.¡± ¡°Shadows, Your Majesty. I see shadows. They want your son. I beg of you, leave the throne to Shahi instead.¡± ¡°So her husband could rule? So the throne will pass from my line?¡± ¡°It will pass regardless; Amavand shall never sire a child.¡± Protector Baraz stood motionless for several heartbeats. When the silence seemed unbearable, he finally narrowed his eyes, staring at the prophet with cool appraisal. ¡°You never spoke of this before.¡± ¡°I hoped it would not be necessary, Your Majesty.¡± ¡°But that is why you insisted I should wed Shahi to my cousin, isn¡¯t it? That is the real reason you did not want me to have her marry the protector of Shushan, isn¡¯t it? So you could remove any objections to passing the throne to Shahi?¡± The prophet bowed. ¡°Yes, Your Majesty. I care about Elamis. I care about you, and your legacy, and I know¡ªthe Relentless One knows¡ªthat Amavand will sunder it all. Please¡ª¡± Suddenly, everything went black, and it took Zephyra a moment to realize that Amavand had thrown a cloth over the scryer¡¯s globe. By this means he turned away from the vision; he¡¯d had enough. Amavand turned now to Pishkar, who was watching him with a wary eye. The seer said nothing, demonstrating at a young age the prudence Zephyra had always known him to have. ¡°All of Nekdel¡¯s lands will be yours when the time comes; I swear it will be so.¡± Zephyra would have gasped, were she still in her body. She had never heard such naked corruption from Father¡ªfrom Protector Amavand before. Such desperation in his voice. Come to think of it she never met this Shahi, either. Father had a sister? Why did no one ever speak of her? Pishkar backed away. ¡°I do not ask this. There is no need to pay me. I have never coveted anything belonging to any man, not Nekdel, not anyone. You wanted to spy on the protector, and I helped, but I do not require anything in return.¡± Amavand¡¯s voice was cold. ¡°But you will have it all the same.¡± So this, then, was the reason Amavand had always warned her to be sure of what others valued before bringing them into her league. Without leverage over Pishkar, no means to bribe him, he resorted to dirtying the man¡¯s honor instead. There was a wrenching of memory, and suddenly they stood now in the throne room. To her surprise, Amavand now sat on the throne. Which meant he became his father¡¯s successor after all. Except for the soldiers, everyone around him dressed in austere clothes, plain simple garments with little ornamentation. This next memory, then, must be from the fifth year of his reign. During the Uprising, when shadow-reapers from Shushan had either charmed away or poisoned the crops of the farms that supported Elamis. As Zephyra understood it, the nobles of the day wanted to curry favor with the ordinary people. Their plainclothes were meant to convey that they, too, shared in the suffering. And especially that they were not stockpiling extra food they withheld from the ordinary citizens of Elamis. The scribes and lore keepers always said that Amavand¡¯s handling of the Uprising settled forever the question of his mettle. No one ever again doubted his worth to wear his father¡¯s crown. So they said. ¡°We will not last the winter if this keeps up,¡± one of the guardsmen was saying. The seers were nodding their agreement. One man stepped forward. It took a moment for Zephyra to place him: Artostes, the Magister of War. Though, he was not wearing anything sumptuous enough to suggest he bore that lofty title at that moment. And, his hands were trapped in the dead-end sleeves of his coat, indicating he was a stranger. Two Manticoran Guards flanked him, their faces concealed by electrum masks. ¡°My lord, my name is Artostes. I have come a long way to speak to you. Word of your war has come to me, and to you I bring a way to help Elamis.¡± This time Zephyra braced herself for the wrenching. Amavand and Artostes were still wearing the clothes they had on in the throne room, which meant it was the same day. A frisson of fear shot through her when she realized they were standing in the Gate Room. The entrance to the nekromanteion. Open on one side, a vaulted ceiling covered the chamber¡¯s three walls, creating an iwan arch. The arch, tiled in white enamel brick, offered shade from the oppressive sun. Heat still tormented him; however, and thus Amavand flapped an ostrich-feather fan about himself as he stood before a pair of bronze doors in the central wall of the iwan. Every time save one, whenever Zephyra came to the Gate Room entrance the bronze doors were shut fast. Only once did Amavand allow her to see the doors opened, on the occasion when he introduced her to the Greatest One. On that cherished day, Zephyra nevertheless remained within the iwan. Both Amavand and Artostes forbade her to cross the threshold into the necromanteion. Dire warnings echoed in her mind, dire enough to secure her obedience. With the doors open, the circular room beyond them was now on display. Eight blind arcades along the walls were decorated either with enamel green brick, or mosaic tiles. Each arcade with mosaic tiles showcased a different symbol. Asphodel, symbolic of the Grey Plains where unquiet spirits roamed. Yellow roses for the Everlasting Lands where the virtuous dead were sent. Black hollyhock, for the Place of Judgement. The twisted yew tree, which grew near the Abyss of the Damned. These arcades, truly, were shadow gates, activated by the seals on the black marble floor. The mystery; however, concerned the ¡°blank¡± blind arcades. They might lead anywhere in Erebossa, but Artostes discouraged Zephyra from investigating the matter. On the floor, a mosaic braid pattern border enclosed an inlaid seal. Inside the border, a large central ring held a smaller ring, which in turn contained a yet smaller ring. Between the large outer ring and the medium-sized inner ring were four seal discs, equidistant from each other. Three seal discs were inset between the second ring and the third. Both the rings and the seals glowed red, a sign of death magics at work. To cross the threshold into one of the arcades¡ªshadow gates¡ªone must use life-sowing magic. At least, Zephyra always thought so, but Artostes always insisted otherwise. ¡°How do I know you can do what you say?¡± Protector Amavand demanded. Artostes smiled, that smug, self-satisfied smile Zephyra always loathed. ¡°What is the limit of a sorcerer¡¯s power?¡± the future master of war spoke in a silky smooth voice. From the vantage point of occupying his memories, Zephyra felt Amavand¡¯s profound annoyance with that question. ¡°What limits the gods set, that is the limit of a sorcerer. If you would master the tides, and obtain the aid of the dragons below them, swear fealty to the Sea Lord. If you wish to master the elements and control the wilds, you must obey the Huntress. To make the deserts bloom and the fields fertile, set an altar to the Reaper. To heal the sick, bow down to the Restorer. And to see the past or the future, give the Seeker Her due.¡± Bitterness laced his voice, which he made no attempt to hide. Which prompted Zephyra to ponder how resentful he sounded, as a child might resent rules he thought was unfair. ¡°And where is your loyalty, lord of Elamis?¡± ¡°To Arenavachi, like all the other rulers of this land. Is there a point to this? I asked you to prove yourself¡ª¡± ¡°We must both prove ourselves, honored one,¡± came the mild reply. ¡°It was foretold that you should not rule Elamis. A seer said so. A seer of the order of the Seeker, no less. Your presence on the throne is in violation of Her will. Your crown cannot rest easy on your head, with such knowledge, can it?¡± Amavand¡¯s temper flared. With a snap of his wrist he shut his fan and pointed it at Artostes. ¡°Is. There. A. Point?¡± ¡°We are limited by the gods only as we choose to be.¡± The answer knocked Amavand off balance, but Zephyra sensed his excitement all the same. Mentioning the Seeker touched a nerve in him. Few within Protector Baraz¡¯s court ever knew the Seeker¡¯s will with respect to the succession. Father and son -- although the father never knew of his son''s awareness of the prophecy -- exerted great effort to ensure it never became common knowledge. Unfortunately for Amavand, whispers of his lack of divine authority carefully spread amongst a select group. ¡°The war with Shushan is because the gods are punishing us. The war will end if Amavand steps down.¡± ¡°Is that right?¡± Amavand circled Artostes. In his mind he meant to intimidate the strange newcomer. However, he managed to only complete one revolution, then Artostes winked out of sight. Amavand whirled on his heel, looking about himself in obvious surprise. Artostes immediately reappeared, this time in the central ring. Somehow he had also shed his coat, inexcusably allowing the free movement of his hands. ¡°What?¡± Amavand lunged, then stopped himself just in time from stepping onto the gate seal. The living could not cross it, not without proper preparation first. Amused, Artostes let out a deep-throated laugh which echoed on the stones of the necromanteion. ¡°I pay no obeisance to those great pretenders you spoke of,¡± he said. ¡°I do not need permission from the Huntress to shake the ground. I do not regard the Sea Lord when I summon a sea dragon to my bidding.¡± Keeping his eyes on Amavand he lowered his hands, holding them out in front of himself, and spacing them so that they were only the width of a soup bowl apart. Lightning sparked, arcing from one hand to the other. Impressed and disquieted at once, Amavand was rooted to the spot. What Artostes had done could not be dismissed as a mere trick: a huntsman could summon a storm, but to wield the power of a storm was another thing entirely. Zephyra had never heard of a huntsman throwing lightning around. Nor, apparently, had Amavand. ¡°How do I know that¡¯s not an illusion?¡± he demanded. Artostes smiled wider. ¡°A good question. A wise question.¡± Until that moment he had stood on the seal. Now he hovered a few inches above it. He spun, putting his back to Amavand, so that he was facing a shadow gate. Flinging out his hands, he hurled the lightning at one of the ¡°bricked¡± shadow gates. The bricks vanished in an explosion of light. Were she in her body Zephyra would have screamed. Fortunately, Amavand screamed enough for both of them. All light vanished. Dark clouds swirled just beyond the blind arcade between the Abyssal and the Judgment shadow gates. At the height where eyes might be glowed two citrine orbs. Amavand¡¯s heart skipped a beat. ¡°Greetings,¡± said the cool voice, which Zephyra recognized as belonging to the Goddess. Amavand licked his lips. ¡°Greetings¡­? I am Amavand, Protector of Elamis¡ª¡± ¡°I know who you are, My son. Why have you summoned Me?¡± It took him a long while to answer, as he weighed his own heart. Power. Artostes both demonstrated, and offered him much power. And with this power, came a way out for Amavand. A way to save Elamis, without giving up his crown. And a way to avoid the judgment of the Seeker, who had sent prophets to declare him unworthy to rule. But what was the price? Another wrenching, and this time Zephyra re-oriented to find herself on a ship. Choppy seas rocked the vessel, whose beleaguered sailors already battled against wind and tide. Father gratified her by staring out at the sea, because through his eyes she saw the sea for the first time in her life. For her, the world ended at the gates of Elamis. But Amavand had other things on his mind. Sea sprays stung his eyes. The incessant shouts of the sailors battered his ears, and the chill wind leached all heat from his body. Sailing proved a miserable experience for him, and he would be glad to get it over with. As soon as he learned why he had to undertake the journey in the first place, that is. Artostes came up beside him. Before he could speak, Amavand demanded, ¡°It¡¯s time you told me why we¡¯re here.¡± Because he was sharing his memories with her, Zephyra knew Father had come out to sea on a promise. A promise, from Artostes and the Goddess, that if he undertook the voyage he would be striking back at the Seeker. A sweet salve for a grudge he¡¯d nursed for¡ªhe paused to calculate¡ªnearly fifteen years since he overheard Nekdel counsel against allowing him the throne. When Amavand came to the throne, he carried out his first priority: making Nekdel pay for his counsel. Fearing the hold Pishkar might have over him if he killed Nekdel, Amavand instead confiscated everything the prophet owned and forced him into exile. Unrepentant, Nekdel left the city without a fight, but with a final warning: ¡°If you love Elamis, step down, lest you destroy both the city and yourself with it.¡± A parting shot, one which haunted Amavand. Now the Greatest One was offering him a way to strike back. Artostes stared up at the stars. ¡°Soon will come the day when another prophet will be your enemy. Today she is also your enemy, but she doesn¡¯t yet know it. Today she is slavishly devoted to the Seeker. You will break her utterly, and sunder the plans of the False One you hate so much.¡± Protests died on Amavand¡¯s tongue. Why deny the truth? With all his heart he hated the Seeker. He just thought he¡¯d kept his hatred well hidden. How had Artostes caught him out? The Greatest One must have told him¡­ ¡°How?¡± he demanded. ¡°How shall I do this?¡± ¡°By being in the right place at the right time. We are almost there. Just watch, and you¡¯ll see.¡± In the distance, a storm brewed. It looked downright cataclysmic, and Amavand wondered if this was the real reason for the violent rocking of the ship. He wanted to throw up, but it was unseemly for him to succumb to such weakness. Instead, he looked away from the storm and closed his eyes. ¡°So we need to find a harbor? Is that where this special event will happen?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t wonder why the storm is in front of you but not around you?¡± Mockery made Artostes¡¯ voice a sing-song. Pride prickled him, and Amavand forced himself to open his eyes again. He pretended to look out onto the sea. Staring at everything made him ill, so he fixed his attention on the horizon. ¡°Is this your doing?¡± Amavand asked. ¡°The storm. Is it your doing?¡± ¡°Of course it is. And I didn¡¯t need to petition the Sea Lord or the Huntress. The Greatest One is sufficient.¡± Her power amazed him every time She demonstrated it. He reveled each time Artostes performed some feat of sorcery that should have required allegiance to the False Ones. Artostes didn¡¯t even need a sylph to call up a raging storm. The storm didn¡¯t last long¡ªit burned out before the watchman called out the hour. But it was long enough. Where the storm had brewed now floated the carcass of a ship, reduced to nothing more than splinters. Over the roar of the sorcerers came the wails of the ship¡¯s survivors. Someone, a huntsman perhaps, sent up a twisted column of fire. The fire swirled red and white, guaranteeing that whoever saw it would understand it to be unnatural, and would send out a force to investigate. ¡°We don¡¯t have long,¡± Artostes warned. They moved quickly. It was important that no one spot the ship, so Artostes put fog between it and the survivors. Beyond the fog, he dispatched men in rowboats. They moved not by their own power, but by his command of wind and tide. A scryer went with them, the quicker to find their quarry. And a bird. A night-black bird with a citrine band about its neck. Zephyra¡¯s heart skipped a beat. ¡°What is that bird?¡± Amavand wondered aloud. ¡°A mynah. A gift from our goddess. I have trained it to say a particular phrase when it sees the face the goddess has shown to me.¡± ¡°You trained it to do what?¡± The memory blurred, but did not wrench. Suddenly, Amavand stood before her. The grey-haired, glassy-eyed, dying Amavand. He reached for her, then stopped himself as his hands vanished. His gaze locked with hers as he said, ?For what it is worth¡ªfor what it is worth, Zephyra¡ªI did love you.? They heard the bird first. In a clear voice it insisted, ¡°This is the one! This is the one! This is the one!¡± The men raised the dinghy. Three men had gone out. Three men had returned, with another in their midst. They had a bundle wrapped between them. Gently, they lowered the bundle onto the deck. The mynah returned to Artostes, alighting on his outstretched finger. ¡°This is the one! This is the one!¡± it cried. Artostes stroked the bird¡¯s neck and smiled. ¡°That will be all.¡± He slipped a black hood over the head of the bird, and cradled it gently in his arms. It quieted instantly. ¡°What is this?¡± Young Amavand demanded. The bundle was the length of a person. The men looked up. They glanced at Artostes, who nodded. Carefully, the men unwrapped one layer of the bundle. A girl lay inside the mass of blankets. She was unconscious, still and silent. One of the men took her chin in his hands and prodded her face toward Amavand. Zephyra froze, a cold sword piercing her heart. ?It¡¯s me.? Chapter 28: Taking the Throne Chapter XXVIII Taking the Throne In which Zephyra confronts her subjects In the present day, Zephyra once again found herself staring down at the dying lord of Elamis. Bleak, beseeching, he looked up at her. ?Tell me why.? Even in her inner voice she whispered. Though carefully curated, Amavand¡¯s memories hinted of an awful, unbearable truth. He had taken her to somehow thwart the Seeker. A False One, whose servant would naturally be his enemy. But Zephyra? She had been a child when Artostes so artfully arranged her abduction. What could child-Zephyra have done to deserve that? Her father¡ªAmavand¡ªhad gone along with this plan. Out of spite? Personal grievance didn¡¯t account for his actions; his memories made it clear he didn¡¯t so much as know her mother¡¯s name. Furthermore, the woman had done nothing to him. For herself, Zephyra felt no remorse for the blood on her own hands. What she regretted was the necessity of killing, but those she executed had shown themselves the enemy of the Greatest One. Even the dryads, who should have been holy, did not give her pause, because she knew she was doing them a favor by sending them to the Greatest One. Yet despite all of that, not once did she think of slaughtering the families of the slain. Nor did she consider snatching their children. They were innocent, for they never directly acted against the Greatest One. In some distant future everyone would see the truth about her goddess, once Father arranged things so she could give them the revelation. This mercy Zephyra¡¯s readily granted her enemies. Mercy Amavand denied to her mother. Perhaps. And perhaps the rest of her family, even though they¡¯d done nothing against him or the Greatest One. All to steal her. ?I did love you,? he said, repeating his earlier entreaty. ?I made you in the image of the Greatest One¡­She wanted you¡­I gave you to Her.? But not for Zephyra¡¯s sake. Emotions surged through her, nearly overwhelming her to the point that she almost became corporeal again, and stopped herself just in time. The foreigners still swarmed about the room, and she still needed to avoid them capturing her. ?You lay your actions at Her feet? You dare?? It hit her then. Everything Amavand had shown her in his memories led to one awful picture. She loved the Greatest One, with a sincere, passionate devotion. Spite against the other gods did not motivate her; they were just pretenders and she did not regard them. Neither revenge nor resentment drove her, either. But not so with Amavand. Every choice he¡¯d made was selfish, and he lacked scruples from start to finish. He went so far as to sully an innocent man who sought only to help him, because he was too cowardly to face down Nekdel, a prophet of a False One. Cold dismay washed over her, when she it dawned on her that neither Amavand¡¯s father, nor Amavand himself, ever disputed Nekdel¡¯s assessment of Amavand as a weak-minded follower. A pit yawned wide in her stomach as an image of Gira flashed before her eyes. For months she¡¯d feared for her own life, feared Amavand would kill her ¡­ because Gira had influenced him to distrust her. Somehow, she did not believe Protector Baraz would have been so ready to believe his own child would kill him, in the absence of proof hard enough to shatter adamant. No matter the angle of examination, she could find nothing to put Protector Amavand¡¯s actions in a noble light, and it sickened her. Except¡­the Greatest One approved of his actions. She blessed his endeavors and gave him guidance to facilitate them. Why? Why did the Greatest One, and her father¡ªProtector Amavand¡ªchoose such a strategy where Zephyra was concerned? Why couldn¡¯t they have chosen a volunteer? Why not an acolyte? Why did they need to deceive her? Zephyra had always thought the methods of an undertaking dictated the quality of its outcome¡­and the worthiness of pursuing it in the first place. What outcome could possibly justify their actions? Something of her disgust and dismay must have shown in her face, because Amavand¡¯s mouth twisted into a snarl. ?You wouldn¡¯t understand,? he groused. ?You were chosen by a goddess, not I. You were declared fit to wear your crown, not I. You have been saved by your goddess, not I.? For the first time in her life, Zephyra had to resist the urge to slap him. ?I do not want to hear your self-pity, Lord Protector. Your city is about to burn. Your people will go to war, and these foreigners will sunder everything you¡¯ve done. Tell me why! What did the Greatest One¡ª? ?Because She asked it of me,? he said simply, turning his head away from her. Green decay crept up his neck and onto his jaw. ?Because I owed Her everything, Zephyra. It was a small price to pay, what She asked. And why should you care? I have elevated you to a position of honor. You are the one She chose. Be grateful,? Amavand insisted. Shadows began to fill the room. Only an hour ago Zephyra would have hoped it meant the Greatest One was coming to receive Her faithful servant. But then her gaze dropped to Amavand¡¯s stumps. ?Your blood begat the rabisu,? she said slowly. ?And salt wielded by the she-wolves killed them. Why would that happen?? All of her life¡ªall that she could remember¡ªAmavand taught her what was true: centuries ago, corruption overtook the Children of the False Ones, so much so they betrayed the Greatest One. Instead of serving Her, they worked against her. Many of the scrolls in the citadel¡¯s library confirmed this claim. The ones that didn¡¯t were only propaganda, Amavand insisted. He never mentioned what category stories of rabisu fell into. Truth, or propaganda? Amavand closed his eyes, and for a heart-stopping moment Zephyra feared he had died. But after a moment his eyelids flickered, then opened. The pinch of his mouth in tandem with his glare almost reduced her to her childhood, when she had done something wrong and he would ask pointed questions. Almost. This time he would not cow her. For one thing, the memories of a childhood with him were lies. In the distance, the bells rang again. ?You told me you drank the nectar,? she said. ?But you really summoned a fellshade, didn¡¯t you? The truth, Lord Protector: did you call upon a False One to help you?? His mocking laughter shook her. Each peal of laughter ate away at the control she used to remain within Erebossa. Putting her in danger, for priests now joined the she-wolves and their entourage. They might summon agents of the False Ones, should they see her. Subsiding, Amavand replied, ?The creatures you saw guarding me came the first time I drank the nectar. You would have seen them, too, if you had drank. But She forbade it.? Despite everything she¡¯d seen, and everything he told her, Zephyra had held on to an increasingly frayed tether of hope for a rational explanation to emerge. Something that would reconcile her beliefs to her present-day experiences. Three hours ago, she would have assumed the Goddess prevented her from drinking the nectar to protect her from both seeing the fellshades and being seen by them. But now? If the Seeker was false, what accounted for Nekdel and the woman in the violet gown? If the Goddess was the Greatest One, why did Alia Ironwing¡¯s curse overcome the men who drank of Her nectar? If Her nectar was divine, why did rabisu spring from the blood of the one who drank it? ?You¡¯re doubting Her, now, are you not?? Scorn laced his words. ?How ¡­ disappointing, how common of you to be taken in by beauty. The Goddess warned me that you would look no further if you saw something you believed hideous, repulsive. Hiding the nectar from you protected you from this failing.? ?For my benefit, Lord Protector? Should I drink it now, then, to prove my faith?? The scorn twisting his features vanished. ?Do not drink it, Zephyra. If you take it, you are no good to Her, and all I¡¯ve done will be for nothing. I don¡¯t want that for you. Forgive me¡­forgive me, my one-time daughter. Take my key, and if you ever loved me, you will use it. I beg of you¡­? A chill rippled through her, beyond her bones and into her soul. The shadows coalesced into shrouded figures. Six of them swirled about Amavand¡¯s body. Every so often she glimpsed their wasted flesh, whenever one of them chanced to look her way. Her skin crawled, but this time she did not intervene when they crowded Amavand. After all, he mocked her revulsion as childish, foolish. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Oddly, his chin quivered as the wraiths closed in on him. Did he not enjoy the sight of them, after all? Then he looked past them, fixing his gaze on her. No matter how closely the wraiths crowded him, his eyes never left her face. Then, all at once, their light extinguished. Anticipation made her freeze. In the living world their connection was now severed. But in Erebossa ¡­ In three heartbeats, Amavand¡¯s spirit rose from his body. In his spirit form his body assumed the appearance of a young man in his prime. Whole, with his hands attached, and his skin untouched by death. He held up his hands, examining them. Slowly, the corners of his lips turned up. Then he full on smiled, triumphant. The wraiths pounced, trapping his spirit within their midst. Elation turned to dismay and terror, as Amavand¡¯s spectral form dissolved. So also dissolved the wraiths, as they swirled once more into a tide of shadows, sweeping from the room and away from her sight. Time stopped for Zephyra. From far away screams and shouts reached her, but she couldn¡¯t take it in. The mysterious prophet spoke the truth, after all. She whom Amavand declared an enemy, to himself and the Greatest One. Their enemy told her the truth. The man she believed to be her father lied to her. His mentor lied to her, and their goddess lied to her. Liars, all of them. What did it mean, that only her enemy had dealt honestly with her? What was more, the prophet, an enemy of the Greatest One, had accurately foretold the future. True prophecies did not come from followers of the Seeker, according to Amavand¡¯s teachings. But so far two separate prophets of the Seeker had foretold the future with devastating accuracy. How could they do that, as servants of a False One? But then, who was false, really? In Amavand¡¯s memories she was twelve years old when his men plucked her from the sea. Making a lie of her memories of a childhood with him. His story about why she couldn¡¯t remember much about her twelfth year? Also a lie. Did the dryads and khrestai really slaughter everyone in the palace? Did they really enchanted the city so that no one remembered their actions? Her eyes strayed to the withered stumps at the ends of Amavand¡¯s forearms. On his chest someone placed his severed hands. Shriveled, blackened, his hands emphasized his unnatural decay. Rivulets of a foul liquid leaked from his hands and ran down his once-magnificent breastplate. Corroding it. No doubt much worse happened to his body out of sight, inside his armor. And to think, all of this came from the salt the fire-hair she-wolf used to coat his stumps. Did she know this would happen? Overcome, Zephyra started to turn away, when a glint of light caught her attention. Something glittered by his neck. The chain. The chain from which hung the vial of nectar. Here now, an opportunity presented itself. This next part would require special finesse. But still the others lingered in the room. The she-wolves¡ªwere they that? Were they what her father¡ªwhat Amavand¡ªhad said they were? She was not what or who he¡¯d said she was, why should things be different with them? The foreign women were clustered around someone who wore the armor of a soldier. Their voices floated to her, and again she felt as if she were seeing and hearing people who were underwater. ¡°They¡¯re coming,¡± he was saying. ¡°They¡¯re already swarming the city. I¡¯m not sure how long this temple will last.¡± ¡°This is the City of Magi,¡± said the fire-hair woman, sounding a trifle impatient. ¡°Did you earn that name or not?¡± They weren¡¯t looking in Zephyra¡¯s direction. Now was her chance. Quickly, Zephyra bent down. She focused her will on her hand, allowing it to enter the corporeal world again. First she took his seal ring, the key to many doors in the palace. At her touch his ring finger crumbled. Flinching, she forced herself to press on, pulling at the fine gold chain he wore around his neck. Drawing out the blood vial, she yanked, freeing its chain from around his neck. The chain snapped with an audible clink. The Eitanite glanced over. Panic destroyed the last vestige of Zephyra¡¯s control. All at once the reek of putrefaction assaulted her nose, the first warning of her re-entry into the realm of flesh-and-blood. With one arm she covered her mouth to hide her gagging. The Eitanite gave a start, unmistakable proof she could see Zephyra. Their eyes locked. Zephyra coolly saluted her. Let the woman try and take her. Let her dare. If she caught hold of Zephyra, then Zephyra might be able to drag her into Erebossa and leave her there. Oh, let her dare! Calm washed over her, as she began her transition back to Erebossa. The Eitanite surged forward. Fast though she was, determination made Zephyra faster. Just as the Eitanite leapt over the bier, Zephyra completed the transition, stepping through the wall as though it were not there. In no time at all Zephyra found herself outside the temple. Back in Thuraia. The portal to the citadel would be close by, she remembered. All she had to do¡ª Waves of lamia undulated forward, moving with an eerie grace on their snake tails. They clutched long, sharp swords in their wicked talons, and periodically let out a loud rattle that made the hair stand up on Zephyra¡¯s neck. Behind the lamia floated the al?, faceless fellshades with glowing green eyes. Rabisu lurked in the shadows of the al?. Hiding, perhaps to ambush their victims, in the way of rabisu. They snarled and growled. Seven manticores formed the rearguard. From their human mouths came deafening lion roars that echoed throughout the city. And perhaps beyond, even in the deserts outside of Elamis. And Zephyra stood between them and Arenavachi¡¯s Fane. The macabre army paused. Her heart stopped. Glinting yellow eyes, cold white eyes, flaming red eyes; they all focused on her. The creatures stilled as one, as if obeying an order she could not hear from a general she could not see. Stay. She must not run. Except for the manticores, the creatures were arsh¡¯at?m, and as such could clearly perceive her even if she shifted back into Erebossa. And they marched in the corporeal realm. In Erebossa or not, she would find no escape if the army of monsters chose to pursue her. ¡°Goddess,¡± she whispered. Suddenly, they moved. She opened her mouth to scream¡­ ¡­and the sound died in her throat. The creatures were bowing. The lamias bent at the waist, raising and then lowering their swords in salute. A respectful salute; the snake women lowered their eyes deferentially. Two waves formed in the small army, moving either left or right, until a path opened down the center of the battle lines. Zephyra exhaled. Slowly her heart began to beat again, her pulse thundering in her veins. She stepped forward. The fiends did not move. Obviously, they meant for her to walk the path they made for her. What would they do if she committed irrevocably to the path? Would they surround her and tear her apart? Gritting her teeth, she took another step. Then another. On the third step she adopted her regal pace, the way she walked when she had thought herself the daughter of the Protector of Elamis. It was the safest choice, she judged. If she hurried it would excite their predatory instincts. If she moved too slowly they might change their mind. Or would they? Again she felt pierced to her soul. Monsters paid obeisance to her. They saw her as one of them. Her eyes stung, but she refused to let the tears fall. When she came through the end of the path, she let out a subtle exhale. Without looking she knew the creatures had turned to watch her progress. And so they did. The path behind her closed, and the monsters clustered together. Keeping their eyes on her. Steeling herself, she looked over her shoulder. In answer the infernal army again saluted her. She sped forward, willing herself to reach the citadel, and found herself on the grounds, just as she wished. Any other time she would have been impressed with herself for teleporting. Now, however, it was all she could do to keep herself together. Below the citadel the Erebossi had reformed their battle lines, and resumed their march to the fane of Arenavachi. A small cry escaped Zephyra¡¯s lips. The tower wasn¡¯t supposed to fall like this. Once more she passed between, this time entering the great hall. Ignoring the sobbing courtiers, she let instinct guide her to her quarry. A cacophony of voices assaulted her ears when she entered the throne room. Artostes stood in the midst of it all, only a few feet from the throne. A mirthless smile touched her lips; apparently even the magister did not have the gall to sit on the throne. Her smile vanished as Artostes blurred. At first he was Artostes. But in a beat of her heart he became grotesque, inhuman, and emitted a stifling, sulfurous stench. Grief came over her, as her last vestige of hope slipped away. The inner circle screamed madly, but not because they could see Artostes¡¯ true appearance. That joy was for herself, the fruits of her Shadow sight. No, the lackeys were arguing. Listening to them revealed the existence of two emerging factions. Interestingly, Artostes was trying to unite them both, but one faction believed he was correct, the others thought he was hasty. ¡°Did you even wait for the Handmaiden?¡± one of them demanded. Zephyra paused. The cold, deep pit in her stomach had only grown larger. So Artostes took it upon himself to summon the horde slithering its way through the city? Well it fit, didn¡¯t it? Considering what she now knew of him. She could not pretend that the horde had not bowed down to her as if she were their mistress. A tear slid down her cheek. She brushed it away, then flung herself into the throne. She straightened, allowing the hem of her gown to cover her feet before she again entered the realm of flesh and blood. One of the men jumped, then hastily dropped to his knees. Several others, the ones who were looking in her direction, were quick to follow suit. Artostes stood gaping, his brow furrowed as he glanced at them. Then he turned, and his eyes widened when he took her in. He looked her over, his eyes roving restlessly as he glanced from her to the tightly shut door of the throne room and back to her again. He, too, knelt, as soon as he realized he was the only one standing. Did he smell it on her? She wondered. Did he smell the scent of death, decay, and brimstone? Did he know she had walked through Erebossa to get to him? Her voice was cold when she spoke. ¡°Artostes.¡± Chapter 29: Battle Plans Chapter XXIX Battle Plans In which Edana learns the horrifying truth ¡°Goodness, what was that about? What did you see?¡± Bessa demanded. To Edana, reeling from shock, Bessa¡¯s awestruck voice sounded far away. For one shining moment, hope had bloomed in her heart. Seeing the woman materialize from nothing reminded her of Lady Nensela, and her ability to project Sendings of herself. Then came the moment when the woman looked at her. A recognition as discordant as biting into an apple and realizing too late she¡¯d actually bit into a lemon: the stranger was not Lady Nensela. Though she shared some features¡ªthe shape of her eyes, the sculpted cheekbones, the full lips¡ªthis woman shared none of Lady Nensela¡¯s good nature. Her lips, curled in a sneer, her ironic salute, these said she believed she had bested Edana somehow. A psychic slap that sent chills rippling down her spine. Whose side is she on? What answer would Senet give her if he were here now? ¡°By the Speaker,¡± Edana whispered. Memories bubbled in her mind, of her first meeting with Lady Nensela. When they met the seer looked haunted, her eyes dead and bereft of all hope. Later Edana learned she was grieving her lost family. Her offer to let Edana accompany her had been perfunctory, and Edana had almost said no. Except she was afraid to stay in the outpost, with only Rasenan soldiers and few civilians, none of whom she could trust. She had nearly wept when Lady Nensela made her offer. Such unexpected kindness and generosity from a stranger gratified her. For days they traveled through the Scrubs, saying little to each other so deep were they in grieving their own losses. Frominside her lectica¡ªa kind of litter constructed similarly to a canopied bed¡ªLady Nensela kept her herself isolated, hidden by shimmersilk curtains whenever they passed through towns. In the wilderness, she sat motionless atop her camel, seemingly catatonic. Until Edana sighted the raiders who¡¯d ambushed her caravan. ¡°They killed your parents?¡± Lady Nensela had asked, her tone unexpectedly tinged with curiosity. ¡°Yes,¡± Edana had choked out, a wave of grief coming over her then. She folded her arms tightly over her chest, in a vain attempt to stop herself from trembling. From atop her camel Lady Nensela surveyed the encampment below them. Slowly, her expression changed from bemusement to calculation, and her mouth set into a hard, thin line. ¡°Let us retreat, little one.¡± ¡°R-retreat?¡± Edana¡¯s jaw clenched, and she silently berated herself for the obvious catch in her voice. Lady Nensela turned to her then, and cocked her head, blinking as if she were seeing Edana for the first time. Which jolted Edana, for it occurred to her that in fact Lady Nensela never truly looked at her before now. Come to think of it, she never seemed to see anyone at all. The elder woman¡¯s disinterest never bothered Edana, because she was consumed with thoughts of returning to Falcon¡¯s Hollow. In her fantasies she would throw herself into Matrona Aurelia¡¯s arms, and let the only grandmother she¡¯d ever known comfort her. Surely she would be welcomed as a foster child into the Philomelos household, just as Bessa had been welcomed into Edana¡¯s household when she was a newborn infant. Edana would not be a slave. She would not be alone. She would still be loved and cared for. The seer must have seen something in her face, for her gaze softened a trifle. ¡°I must pray to the Destroyer¡ªHe will tell me how best to repay them,¡± she said coldly. ¡°Go to my armsmen, and choose a weapon for yourself. The time for crying is over, little one. Do not be afraid: I will let no harm come to you.¡± Lady Nensela had kept her promise. She gave Edana the satisfaction of knowing that the people who had slain her parents life would not escape their crimes unscathed. From her Edana learned to defend herself. She gave Edana silence when she needed it, and companionship when the grief became too much. They had become friends. While Lady Nensela gradually lost that deadness in her voice and her eyes, she always retained a touch of sadness. No matter how she smiled or laughed, it never went away. Presently, Edana blinked. Something wet plopped on her cheek. Her eyes stung. ¡°Oh, Nensela,¡± she whispered. To her surprise, Bessa suddenly stood in front of her. One look at Edana and her mouth rounded. Glancing just once over Edana¡¯s shoulders, she pulled Edana aside and held her tight. In her arms Edana made no attempt to hide her tears. ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± Bessa soothed. ¡°We¡¯re in this together, remember? Whatever it is, we¡¯ll deal with it.¡± Gratitude made Edana take Bessa¡¯s words in the spirit in which Bessa had said them. Her sister was by her side, and she would understand Edana¡¯s distress. ¡°It was her,¡± Edana rasped. ¡°Lady Nensela?¡± Bessa trilled, a note of hope rising. ¡°N-no. No. It was Sel¨¤na. But she¡ª¡± Edana glanced sharply at the former lord of Elamis. Dead. But where previously his topmost hand had been folded across his body, now the shriveled fingertips pointed toward his feet. She pulled free of Bessa, and ran over to the corpse. ¡°Edana? What is it?¡± Bessa moved to the other side of the now-dead satrap, and gave him a quick once-over. Behind her, the Lyrcanians and the guards watched her with their hands resting on their weapons. And by the looks on their faces, they expected a damn good explanation to be forthcoming. Steeling herself, Edana prepared to give them one. ¡°A woman was here,¡± she said, the words tumbling from her lips. ¡°Did none of you see her? Sel¨¤na. The daughter of Lady Nensela of Ta-Seti, and she took items from the protector. His vial¡ªI think it was a blood vial¡ªand a ring.¡± Alia straightened, her hand going to the scabbard of the weapon she¡¯d said was a pistol. She hurried over, and the others followed. Tregarde swore, with feeling. ¡°We should have searched him!¡± Exhaling hard through her teeth, Edana spun away from the corpse to face the wall. On a hunch she probed the smooth stone surface. Nothing remarkable, as far as she could tell. So then¡ªobviously, Sel¨¤na could do Sendings, just as her mother could. But Edana always understood the seers to be incorporeal during the act, projecting an image of themselves. Not so with Sel¨¤na. Rather, she had touched the king, she had taken an object, and then she disappeared. Not rendered herself invisible, disappeared, for the priests were crowding the door¡ªthe closed door¡ªand Sel¨¤na would have had to pass them to even open the door before leaving the room. But instead she headed for the wall. As if she could go right through it. Alia snapped her out of her reverie, asking her a question as she pulled something from her coat. A piece of parchment she thrust at Edana. ¡°Was this her?¡± Alia demanded. ¡°Was this the woman?¡± Edana took the parchment. This must be the same parchment she¡¯d shown to the truth-seers, which contained the likeness of the mysterious Handmaiden. At the time Edana¡¯s vantage point didn¡¯t allow her to see the drawing. Now she did. ¡°Sel¨¤na,¡± Edana sighed, her heart breaking. Oh, Lady Nensela. Alia slowly lowered the parchment. ¡°But I thought¡ªyou said Sel¨¤na is in the prophecy,¡± Sheridan reminded her, coming forward and taking the parchment from Alia¡¯s slackened hands. He looked from the drawing to Edana and back to the paper again. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say the prophecy said she¡¯s the one destroying the giants?¡± Bessa looked up suddenly, fastening her stare on Edana, a look of urgency on her face. ¡°That¡¯s right. So, whatever happened here, we can¡¯t assume she meant anything evil by it. Maybe¡ª¡± ¡°She murdered a man in this temple,¡± Alia cut in. The color drained from Bessa¡¯s face as the implications sunk in. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t know about this vision, but the Handmaiden or Sel¨¤na or whoever she is, she¡¯s no savior. Aunt Nalini said this person had been corrupted. Nothing this girl does is for a good purpose.¡± Silence fell. Edana¡¯s heart pounded. No answer came to mind, and even Bessa looked bereft. With respect to Sel¨¤na¡¯s actions, every angle examination yielded only an explanation rooted in evil. This was Lady Nensela¡¯s daughter? The one she mourned so profoundly? Whose loss had shattered her spirit beyond repair? A preternatural scream pierced the air. ¡°Something must be happening,¡± one of the soldiers said. He started for the door, but only managed a few feet when suddenly, the window shattered. Shards of glass crashed to the floor, scattering every which way. Bessa¡¯s surprised yelp was drowned out the the roar of a thousand lions. As one, they all rushed to the window. Horrific fiends filled the town square, arrayed in seeming battle lines. Along the front lines, a writhing mass of lamia made Edana flinch away at first, overcome by the memory of what the First Abyssal had done to her. ¡°She¡¯s dead. Think on that. Dead. At your hand, dead,¡± Edana whispered to herself. When her heart steadied, she joined the others in looking out at the fiends surrounding the temple. Each cohort of monsters formed lines six deep in the siege of the fortress. While the snake women brandished swords, the other monsters relied on roars, growls, and ominous hisses. One rabisu broke formation, capering over to the bell pavilion on bandy legs. Drool seeped from its grinning mouth. Rivulets of saliva ran down its chin and plopped onto its big belly. Grinning still wider, the creature jumped up and down as it rang the bell Tregarde had rung not two hours earlier. Shadows lengthened. The sky darkened, as if the sun had vanished. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Sheridan pointed to the sky. What they took for massive storm clouds filled the sky, from one end of the horizon to the other, floating with ferocious speed. Screeching and shrieking, the mass grew closer. And closer. ¡°Are those owls?¡± Bessa asked. She put a hand to her left arm, where a ghost-face owl ripped it open hours before. Thanks to the dryad Nalini, her arm was healing, but her subtle wince suggested the pain lingered. Edana squinted. Pinpoints of red light emerged first from the cloud. Then their bearers came sharply into view. Owls. Ghostly-grey owls with large bulbous heads and bulging blood-red eyes. Their feathers created an impression of smoke the closer they came. Onward they rushed, to the fane itself. Relentlessly the birds swarmed, diving and swooping at unseen prey. The owls kept coming, overshadowing the square. Four of the birds broke off, heading straight for the window. Their red eyes blazed with a searing, infernal light. Pain lanced Edana¡¯s eyes. Immediately she threw her arm up over her face, lest she go blind. ¡°Take cover¡ª!¡± Edana started. Tregarde flung out his hand. Silver flashed over the window, a hair¡¯s breadth before the owls crashed into the opening. Screeches of pain erupted. One of the birds clawed at the shield, another viciously pecked at it with its beak. That was when they saw the truth. ¡°Strix! These are strix!¡± Bessa cried. Owlish, blood-drinking monsters, marked so by golden beaks and their four legs rather than the two a natural owl would have. ¡°Amyntas protect the children,¡± Alia prayed. Every parent in Rasena Valentis took care to keep a whitethorn charm over their baby¡¯s crib. This alone would ward off the strix, who would otherwise stab the tender flesh of the babes and suck up their blood. One day when Edana was seven, her mother left home to comfort a neighbor, a grieving mother. Unbeknownst to the woman, her five-year-old child had innocently removed the charm from the crib while playing with his baby brother. An opportunistic strix flew in that very night. When a baby is born, a strix stalks their house. They wait, and wait, and wait, for days and months. Always at night they perch near, ready to strike. They only go away when the baby reaches the first birthday. With you, I put whitethorn charms over every window, so no matter what they couldn¡¯t get you. Sorcha Nuriel later explained. Edana thought of all the parents who had sought the safety of the temple. So many babies, in one place¡­ ¡°By the Sower,¡± she breathed.
¡°This can¡¯t be happening,¡± General Shirzad moaned, clutching his head as if in agony. Alia whipped away from the window to face him. She gripped his shield arm so hard he yelped. ¡°This is not the time. If it means anything at all to be a soldier of Anshan, you will pull yourself together. Gather your men and have them meet with us.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll need the Salamandra,¡± Edana said, turning away from the ghastly scene below them. ¡°In Rasena Valentis, the sorcerers¡¯ powers were interdicted by an enemy we call ¡®the Presence.¡¯ But the Salamandra held their own.¡± ¡°Salamandra,¡± General Shirzad repeated, snapping out of his dismay. ¡°Yes. And what more?¡± ¡°And any weapon made with moonbow steel, or coated with ash manna,¡± Bessa added. ¡°Holy weapons, period. We¡¯ll talk on the way, let¡¯s go.¡± They ran from the room, stopping only to have it secured by two soldiers the general intercepted in the corridor. ¡°We don¡¯t know who else will come for the protector,¡± Shirzad grimly observed. The main hall was teaming with Elamisi. Because Elamis was a sorcerers¡¯ city, her citizens did not need direction on what to do when arsh¡¯at?m showed up. Civilians and soldiers alike were working out abjurations to use at every entry point. Some were setting up ¡®boundaries¡¯ and circles of protection. ¡°This will make them vanish,¡± one sorcerer was saying, drawing a white line across the great double doors. ¡°This one will disintegrate the manticores,¡± said one sorcerer, causing a red wall of mist to appear outside the windows. Bessa, who had paused to observe their handiwork, leaned over to Edana and commented, ¡°That¡¯s only going to help if the monsters try to get in. They can trap us here in a siege. We¡¯ve got to get rid of them altogether.¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± Edana visually searched the crowd for any sign of the Sower¡¯s priests. During Bessa¡¯s confrontation Edana had spotted several of the Sower¡¯s priests, garbed as they were in violet and silver robes. At least two of them joined the townspeople in escaping the rabisu by running into Aletheia¡¯s temple. A sensible choice, given that arsha¡¯t?m could not enter holy ground. Searching for priests, Edana, Bessa, and Alia separated. Edana to find the Sower¡¯s priests, Alia to find priests of the Huntress, and Bessa to find priests of the Reaper. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. For Marinite priests; however, they did not search: none lived in landlocked Elamis. ¡°But I know of a few sorcerers whose offerings are accepted by the Sea Lord,¡± General Shirzad said, sending a thrill of delight in them. Fravak brought them to the grotto, the site of Gira¡¯s murder. He had held off on allowing the faithful to congregate there, having his priests instead gather the civilians together in the great assembly hall. ¡°Have you seen the horde out there? I don¡¯t¡ª¡± he cut himself off, quelled by the expressions on their faces. Edana surveyed the grotto. Had she come to it under different circumstances its ethereal beauty would have enchanted her. White marble walls with wide, undulating bands of lapis blue echoed the icy blue of the spring. Reflections of the water shimmered against the wall, creating a mystical atmosphere in the vast cavern. Everything and everyone was bathed in a blue glow. With every step the Fire Lords took, the swan white flames embroidering the hem of their robes rippled with an iridescent sheen. In their midst Edana spotted Zareen Prime, whose long copper braid swung behind her as she paced. The Fire Lords converged on the priests of the Sower and the Nasiru, who were conferring together near the lakeside. Behind the Fire Lords followed Bessa and the Lyrcanians. With a nod she concluded everyone who would be needed was right here in this room. Of course, a few stragglers also came in: sorcerers and watchmen. Including the officer who had given her and Bessa the bracelets that marked them as outsiders. She looked him over, but he seemed more dazed than threatening. ¡°Is there a plan?¡± one of the sorcerers asked. He was rubbing his arms vigorously, as if trying to keep warm. The lake kept the grotto cool. ¡°Let¡¯s discuss that,¡± Bessa said, taking over. Near the shore of the spring, a natural rock formation rose up and jutted out over the water. While the formation might double as a diving point if someone wanted to jump into the water, Edana suspected no one would be disrespectful enough to do so. With easy grace, Bessa loped up the rock, all the way to its summit. From this commanding height she easily captured everyone¡¯s attention. They eyed her with wary respect, and Edana supposed it was because she had been the one to call out and face down the protector. Bessa continued, ¡°Blood-sucking monsters have us surrounded. They¡¯re teamed up with manticores and lamia, and I don¡¯t even want to know what else. But here¡¯s our actual problem: somehow, it¡¯s possible for someone to get in here and vanish through walls. How is that done, and can we do the same?¡± ¡°You want to go out there?¡± a sorcerer asked, gaping at her. Bessa rolled her hand in a keep up gesture. ¡°I want to capture someone. The person who summoned these fiends is in the citadel, I¡¯m sure of it. Can we get into the citadel and make our way to the person we need to capture? Or, if not, can we keep anyone from coming into the temple to kill us?¡± ¡°I like the part where we kill the summoner,¡± another sorcerer said, stroking his beard as he gazed into the distance. ¡°We can¡¯t kill that person,¡± Alia said quickly, leaping up to stand next to Bessa. ¡°Let¡¯s just say the Huntress has Her own plans for her. All the same, I think if we have her in our custody it will make the creatures out there a lot more docile.¡± ¡°Did you say she went through the walls?¡± Fravak asked. Quickly, Bessa explained the Handmaiden materializing beside the satrap. She put special emphasis on the Handmaiden¡¯s ability to manipulate objects. This set the sorcerers to murmuring, and they conferred together for a moment. A sorceress spoke up, addressing Bessa. ¡°Even we can¡¯t teleport without a portal. Naiads can use water, but this Handmaiden doesn¡¯t sound like a naiad,¡± she said, and stopped to get Bess¡¯s confirmation. When Bessa nodded, she continued, ¡°The only other option is that she walked through Erebossa. Bodily, which is the only way she¡¯d be able to touch something. But going into Erebossa in your own body is very dangerous if you¡¯re a human or Salamandra.¡± ¡°How dangerous?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°She was able to do it.¡± ¡°And if she¡¯s commanding Erebossi then it would be safe for her,¡± the sorceress dryly replied. ¡°Fellshades and arsh¡¯at?m love to linger on the¡­edge of Erebossa, if you will. It¡¯s one reason why scryers try to avoid Sendings as much as possible. They don¡¯t want to chance fellshades hitching a ride back with them.¡± The other sorcerers and scryers nodded, and audibly concurred with her explanation. Edana pondered the situation. Multitudes of fiends outside the temple with flesh-ripping claws, bone-cleaving swords, and soul-gnashing powers were plotting and scheming to get inside and devour everyone. Or,perhaps their ambitions were more simple: keep everyone penned in the temple, where they would be free to starve to death. But no giants walked amongst the monsters. That had to mean something, she hoped. For whatever reason no one invited the Atta¡¯u to the banquet. Because Sel¨¤na didn¡¯t want to destroy the city? Papa had told her enough stories from his days in the legion for Edana to understand different objectives determined what tactics one might use. One only poisoned wells and salted the soil if one did not intend to farm that same land and drink from that same well. On the Night of the Burning Sky, Lysander had allowed his fortress to be destroyed because the cost of trying to keep it would have lost them the battle. Losing would allow the giants and Murena to march on Valentis. Though painful, the fortress was an acceptable loss; Valentis would not have been. Here and now, destroying Elamis was not an acceptable loss. Apparently, the lord protector¡¯s inner circle shared her views on that matter: if they fancied themselves the new rulers over Elamis they would hardly want it wiped off the map. It was her best leverage. ¡°What are you willing to lose?¡± Edana demanded. From her position behind the assembly, almost everyone had to turn to face her. They stared at her, uncomprehending. ¡°I don¡¯t need to tell you what¡¯s at stake. At least two of the monsters out there specifically prefer to feast on children. Half measures are not an option. This is the time to get ruthless, not sentimental.¡± Fravak started to speak, but Edana made a slashing gesture, silencing him. ¡°Homes can be rebuilt; so can your businesses. Temples are sacred, but not at the cost of your children. Do you need the palace?¡± Sel¨¤na could walk alive into Erebossa. Though perhaps not ideal, the nether realm afforded her protection from pursuit. In Erebossa she might gather any number of allies, and bring them along with her when she returned to attack the fane in the hour that pleased her best. The crowd traded uneasy glances with each other. Bessa took Edana¡¯s point and drove it home. ¡°Why should the palace be sacrosanct if the temple isn¡¯t? The people inside it are willing to destroy this temple. They¡¯re willing to murder people in this temple. Why should they be spared? The beastmasters can help us: awaken the dragon in your lake.¡± ¡°But the palace¡­¡± Their hesitation made sense in a way, Edana considered. The grandeur of the palace bestowed a prestige to the city, on a scale fit for an emperor. ¡°The citadel is not worth your children, is it? It¡¯s not worth your souls, is it?¡± Edana hardened her tone, impatient at having to even ask the question. ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± the sorceress agreed. ¡°But you forget that our powers have been muted. I kept hearing rumors ¡­ of the gods overthrown, and a new one taking their place.¡± ¡°And this new god would be able to restore your powers, of course,¡± Alia said. ¡°I trust Protector Amavand¡¯s scheme is now obvious to you all.¡± ¡°Yes¡­but we may not be able to so much as make it rain.¡± Edana arched an eyebrow. ¡°No? But last night I used a holy curse to kill infernal jackals. She¡±¡ªEdana pointed to Alia¡ª¡°is a priestess who once summoned an astral to fight off fellshades. We have more options than you think. And I have an idea.¡±
Four towers made up the corners of Arenavachi¡¯s Fane. Two of them overlooked the square where the army of arsh¡¯at?m gathered. And two of them overlooked the inner courtyard which surrounded Her stele. The huge open space was a weak point in the temple¡¯s defense, which was why it was a perfect lure, Edana pointed out. Into the courtyard the sorcerers projected the illusion of a nursery where babies slept. With the use of mechanical birds, they conveyed the sound of crying infants into the courtyard, strengthening the illusion. The strix dove straight for it. The first wave crashed against an invisible shield, disappearing into a fine red mist as they met the holy barrier the Eitanite priests had set up. Thereafter, the remaining infernal owls kept their distance from the temple¡¯s air space. The other arsh¡¯atum had held back, contenting themselves with making terrifying noises. The barriers the sorcerers erected kept the manticores at bay, but the lamia sang. Their voices carried, allowing them to taunt parents with the threat of having their children devoured. The crying children inside the temple masked the sound of the rabisu and the al? that were attempting to scale the walls, seeking the weak points. In their overconfidence they had made themselves vulnerable to Edana¡¯s trap. Individually, the huntsmen struggled to unleash the elements. A situation Edana anticipated, and thus she did not have them work alone. Untouched by the Presence, the Salamandra were to join Alia¡¯s group, Edana decreed. Stationed in the summit of the northwest tower, Alia command the Salamandra raised their hands, which they lit with their own flames. Alia blessed them, turning their fires from blue-white to pure white. Holy fire, which the Salamandra rained down upon the infernal army. In tandem with them, the venatori sorcerers banded together in the southwest tower to make a fierce windstorm that spread the inferno around the square. Because Salamandra fire did not need fuel to burn, it would take more than water to put it out. Because the fire was holy it destroyed the rabisu, the lamia, and the al?. Where once they taunted, now the lamias only managed a single scream before the fires vaporized them. The manticores fled, retreating as far as the lake. This gave cover to the beastmasters in the central wing, who did indeed prod the Yellow Serpent from its slumber. Against the three-headed dragon the manticores were no match. The dragon lumbered onto the shore. Its thick, yellow-brown scales rendered it unfazed by their the manticores¡¯ flying stingers. Three dragon heads swiveled this way as each of them exhaled its venomous breath. With one powerful claw the dragon slashed through the nearest manticores, cutting several of them in half. The other manticores retreated from the lake. Once out of immediate reach of the dragon¡¯s maw and claws, the manticores yawned. So wide did their jaws open that they could have swallowed a man whole. This, in fact, was their preferred method of killing people. From her vantage point, Edana looked askance at the manticores. Did they really intend to swallow a dragon? Whatever the manticores intended, the Yellow Serpent had its own plans. It reared back its long, sinuous necks and opened its jaws. Ejecting poison from its throat into the gaping mouths of the manticores. Too late, the manticores slammed their teeth together. A heartbeat later, the malevolent creatures began writhing and roaring in agony. An agony which lasted only three heartbeats before the manticores dropped dead. However, two other manticores had prudently hidden themselves behind shrubbery during the initial attack on the dragon. Now they emerged. Leaping up, they successfully landed onto two of the Yellow Serpent¡¯s necks. Each managed to sink their teeth into the dragon¡¯s flesh. But the snatched them in its claws. With baleful eyes the Yellow Serpent examined them. The manticores must have realized their doom was imminent, for they writhed and struggled, trying to free themselves. The water dragon lowered first one, then another jaw to bite off their heads. It tossed aside the now headless bodies. Every manticore was now dead. Only the strix had remained. Denied their ideal prey, they opted now to feast on the Yellow Serpent. They swirled about dragon, keeping clear of its claws. The Yellow Serpent; however, could not keep clear of their talons, which they sank into its necks.Though the dragon struggled, it could not shake the bloodthirsty birds. Their perch secured, the strix viciously jabbed their beaks into the dragon¡¯s flesh. No matter how many the dragon ripped apart, more strix would swoop forward, a ghastly mockery of the dragon¡¯s regeneration abilities. The monstrous birds held fast, and began greedily drinking the Yellow Serpent¡¯s blood. In due course the dragon was avenged. Given their normal diet of the innocent flesh and blood of infants, they had no defense against the poison surging through the dragon¡¯s veins. The strix fluttered weakly to the ground, realizing too late they¡¯d doomed themselves. They disintegrated in an exhaust of the dragon¡¯s acidic spit. Its enemies felled, all three heads of the Yellow Serpent reared back before letting out a long, triumphant roar. It turned, completing one revolution in place before apparently deciding there were no more challengers. It slipped back into the lake with a huge splash and a fountain of white foam. ¡°The skies are clear,¡± General Shirzad said, when the water calmed again. ¡°And the streets are empty. Now how many are coming with you?¡± He turned to Edana and awaited her answer. Her stomach rumbled dully. They had balked Sel¨¤na, so far without directly facing her or risking her death. But now, Edana had no choice but to confront Lady Nensela¡¯s daughter, if only to keep her from bringing more arsh¡¯at?m into the city. Edana had prayed for Lady Nensela¡¯s recovery, but the thought of having to greet her old friend with news that she¡¯d killed her daughter was more than she could bear. Edana gestured, indicating Bessa and the Lyrcanians. ¡°Us. And the strongest of the priests and salamanders. Your watchmen.¡± She stopped, seeing Bessa flash a vulpine smile. With a tilt of her chin Bessa indicated an approaching beastmaster. The man nodded at them, and Edana¡¯s heart somersaulted in relief. Alia and her friends had three gryphons, and Edana and Bessa had intended to share one of them. But they were going to require the aid of the Fire Lords as well as that of the priests. Therefore, those beastmasters not on Yellow Serpent duty had been set the task of summoning every drake the watch commanded. From the tower, she could hear the reassuring sound of their roars as they flapped their wings in ill temper. ¡°Have the prophets reported in?¡± Edana asked. Following Lady Nensela¡¯s example, she had asked the Fire Lords prophets to project Sendings of themselves to carry out a reconnaissance mission. They found the Fire Lords in the grotto, clustered around three of them, who were awakening from their Sendings. Only three prophets were among them in the temple, limiting their coverage during the scouting. Three flame keepers stood watch over them. One of them, Roshan, was holding a pitcher that Edana suspected held wine. Fravak, the high priest of Aletheia, paced nervously. Kneeling in front of the prophets, Zareen Prime asked them questions designed to determine if they were themselves. That was when Edana noticedEitanim priests standing by, ready to expel a fellshade if Zareen determined the prophets were possessed. ¡°They¡¯re clean,¡± Zareen Prime judged. She rose to her feet, and gestured for Roshan to pour the wine. Someone had set cups next to each of the three prophets. Zaran Secundus, Zaran Prime, and Zareen Tertia moved sluggishly, as if they were still asleep. The wine revived them. ¡°You need to hurry,¡± Zareen Tertia told them, folding her legs under her as she sat up. ¡°Something is happening in the palace,¡± Zaran Secundus added. ¡°Something stalks the halls there. I heard screams and sounds of battle, and saw bodies everywhere in the great hall.¡± Zaran Prime witnessed people fleeing, making their way to a portal room to try and escape¡­but something was cutting them off. ¡°The gate is open,¡± Zareen Tertia explained. The shadow gate. A miasma flowed from it, and through the palace, killing all in its path. Edana inhaled. Such things had happened, in the ancient past, usually the result of an arrogant or wicked sorcerer, according to the tomes in Lady Nensela¡¯s library. It was one reason she didn¡¯t lament the loss of so many gates. Was there any possibility Sel¨¤na had survived? Shame pierced her conscience, as she considered that at least she could truthfully tell Lady Nensela that Sel¨¤na¡¯s death did not come by her hand. ¡°The miasma will flow over here, too, won¡¯t it?¡± Edana asked, trying to keep her voice steady. ¡°The miasma is the death wind, isn¡¯t it?¡± Zareen Tertia believed so. ¡°Someone holds that gate. A loathsome, monstrous creature that I think is in command there. He perceived me, but did not pursue me.¡± She shuddered, hugging herself and shaking her head as if to rid herself of a memory. ¡°You¡¯re with us,¡± Zareen Prime soothed, encircling her shoulders.. After a moment, Zareen Tertia calmed herself. Bessa wondered aloud how to shut the gate. ¡°That will be easy,¡± Alia said. ¡°We spill blood on the gate seals. Preferably the blood of anyone assisting the arsh¡¯at?m, if we can throw the monster itself through the shadow gate.¡± An Eitanite priest spoke up. He pointed to Edana¡¯s bracelet. Enameled in purple, the golden glyph incised in the bracelet stood out all the more. The glyph was the symbol for life. The priests of her people wore violet and silver robes, to symbolize the Great Sower¡¯s life-sowing and protective aspects. ¡°You¡¯ll need an aegis like hers,¡± he said. ¡°It will counteract the miasma. Give us time, and we¡¯ll prepare it for you.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll meet you in the courtyard,¡± Edana continued. ¡°Let¡¯s hurry, before the citadel throws a new horror at us.¡±
The Watch possessed ten drakes, and each drake could readily carry four passengers. General Shirzad divided his forces like so: each dragon carried a beastmaster, a priest, a Salamandra, and a member of the watch. Bessa rode with Tregarde, Edana with Sheridan, and a beast master accompanied Alia on the gryphons the Lyrcanians had acquired. They flew high, arcing as wide of the lake as they could to avoid attracting the Yellow Serpent. As soon as they cleared the lake, Edana and Bessa unleashed the thunder maces, shattering the windows of a second floor gallery in the palace. They went through, but did not land, for the floor was covered in bodies, from one end of the long room to the other. Some lay face up, others face down, but none revealed a mark on them, only faces frozen in a rictus of agony. Whatever killed them was not made of flesh and blood: the doors at either end of the hall were locked tight. The miasma. There was no other sign of it, and Edana wondered if it was supposed to be a sickly green, as Honoria¡¯s had been. Or it would perhaps be more insidious: invisible and undetectable until it struck. Where would Sel¨¤na be in all of this? Zaran Secundus had thought he¡¯d seen someone matching her description, running toward the royal apartments. The drakes burned down the double doors in their way, and the group flew through, the gryphons and drakes banking hard at an angle to accommodate their wingspans. Half went right, the other half went left, according to the plan. Still more bodies littered the path. Screams came to them, faint at first, then getting louder as they flew. They slowed their mounts. ¡°Do we help them?¡± Bessa wondered. Privately, Edana had asked herself the same thing. In her mind only wicked people lived in the palace, and it would be fitting for them to be done in by the creatures they were so casually unleashing into the world. ¡°No time,¡± Alia answered. ¡°We find the Handmaiden and get out.¡± Relieved, Edana nodded her assent. But no matter how she turned her head, she could not tune out the screams. Shadows cast on the opposite wall told her that a strange beast was near, through a doorway to her left. The thing could follow them, but she stayed her hand: the mysterious creature may have companions of its own. Attracting its attention would cause more of a delay than they could afford. Another turn down the corridors, and the tapestries on the wall grew richer, more opulent. The map the Fire Lords had drawn indicated they had found the royal apartments. The drakes roared, the gryphons screamed, and Edana¡¯s blood chilled when she saw what lay ahead. Her nightmares were haunted with the memory of the freakish monstrosity Honoria had changed her into. Now, in the flesh, a similar monstrosity rose up on serpentine coils. At the waist the coils ended in a ring of tiny heads of various beasts which howled and screeched. Above the waist, the well-toned torso of a human woman who was sizing them up with a critical eye. In her red, scythe-like talons she gripped two long swords, shaped like falcatas but on a larger scale. The swords dripped with venom, the droplets searing the floor wherever they fell. Her wings unfurled as she prepared to launch herself at them. Cold sweat broke out on Edana¡¯s forehead. ¡°A drakaina,¡± she whispered. Chapter 30: Death Throes Chapter XXX Death Throes In which Zephyra takes command The silence in the throne room stretched, but Zephyra felt no trace of pity. Were she of a mind to be gracious to her subjects she would tell them to rise from the floor where they knelt before her. But she was of no such mind, and thus she gave them no leave to stand to their feet again. Artostes, closest to her throne, stared up at her, his mouth still agape as he took in her expression. ¡°Is your father dead, Handmaiden?¡± Zephyra flicked a speck of lint off of her skirt. ¡°I saw his spirit carried off by the wraiths myself, dear Magister.¡± Artostes flinched. His eyes flitted from side to side as he checked the others¡¯ reactions. Did he worry about what they might hear? No, that didn¡¯t quite make sense; were they not all part of the inner circle? Didn¡¯t they all know what he knew? Weren¡¯t they aware of the truths that Lord Protector Amavand had so carefully hidden from her? Then he fixed his eyes on her, looking her over. Taking her measure? At once it hit her: he wasn¡¯t worried about them. She was the unknown element. The one he needed to consider before making his next move. How flattering. How astute. ¡°Y-you saw the wraiths?¡± Artostes stammered. He licked his lips. Zephyra didn¡¯t dignify the question with a response. Instead she asked, ¡°Was it you who sent the arsh¡¯at?m into the city? Was it you who unleashed the bloodsuckers and the manticores?¡± For the length of three eyeblinks Artostes froze. Long enough to give himself away. Then he straightened and cleared his throat. ¡°Indeed.¡± He only dared go so far in his defiance; she heard the rising tone at the end that suggested he was on the verge of a question. But he stopped himself, perhaps checked by prudence. She studied him. All those years ago Artostes had come to Amavand, bringing honeyed promises tantalizing enough to convince him to turn against his people and their ways. Such promises they were: Amavand would keep his throne, his power, and escape the wrath of the Seeker. With such promises to drive him, Amavand even tampered with the shadow gate. Yet more, Amavand undertook a journey of thousands of miles solely to steal someone¡¯s daughter¡ªZephyra¡ªand kill her family. And to what end? Over and over Zephyra returned to the question in her mind. For the most part she knew exactly what Amavand had gained. But what was in it for Artostes? What she saw of him in Erebossa gave her an unsettling answer. Coldly, Zephyra asked, ¡°What did you expect to happen? You have given away the game. For what purpose, Artostes?¡± By the Greatest¡ªby all that was sensible and right in this world, Artostes must have had a grand strategy. The ¡­ man ¡­ did not come to Amavand on a whim. He had a purpose. Turning Amavand to serve the Greatest One fulfilled a purpose. Capturing Zephyra fulfilled a purpose. What was the purpose? What did Amavand say, when he sulked like a child? Oh yes, You were chosen by a goddess, not I. He had also warned, when speaking of the nectar of the Goddess, do not drink it, Zephyra. If you take it, you are no good to Her, and all I¡¯ve done will be for nothing. Why? Clearly, preventing her from seeing the denizens of Erebossa was the secondary reason he withheld the nectar of the Greatest One from her. And the primary reason? Drinking it caused Amavand¡¯s blood to birth the rabisu. Sufficiently horrible, as consequences went, but why did the Goddess insist Zephyra remain untouched by it? Apparently everyone else was expendable, but not Zephyra? Artostes smiled slightly, as if she¡¯d asked a silly question. ¡°Zephyrrra,¡± he drawled, extending the last syllable of her name. ¡°Three key enemies are locked away in the temple of a False One. They killed the protector. Why shouldn¡¯t I attack?¡± The others were peering up at her. They bowed their heads when she flicked a glance their way. For the moment, they were not relevant, so she continued ignoring them. ¡°And the people of Elamis? What did they do to deserve having their children delivered into the hands of the strix and the lamia?¡± ¡°Are you forgetting that the dryad escaped? The Goddess needed her blood. With her gone, there must be other sacrifices. There must be other sacrifices now. With the passing of the solstice the power of the sacrifice must be amplified.¡± Zephyra arched an eyebrow. ¡°A dryad is worth so much? And this is acceptable to you?¡± ¡°What do you care?¡± Artostes¡¯ voice hardened. He started to rise, then immediately dropped back down on one knee. Because he didn¡¯t want her to rebuke him in front of the others? ¡°You are the Handmaiden, aren¡¯t you? You live to serve Her will. If She tells you to slay or to save, you slay or save by Her will. And She wills that I destroy those not on our side. You forget that the people of Elamis are still in the power of the False Ones. But with their deaths, we¡¯ll free the others in Anshan.¡± He held out his hand, a silent invitation to join him. Join him, as Amavand had, yoking her fate to his will, doing as he bid for some nebulous purpose. The tone he took with her, did he mean for her to interpret it as a warning? If he could dispense rewards, he could also dispense punishments, could he not? But too much had passed before her eyes today. She felt only dead inside, far beyond fear. She looked him over again. Like always, he wore a brocade silk caftan with gold embellishments. Today his caftan hugged his lean figure ¡­ which should restrict his pace. Any other time, he would move as quicksilver, On the outside. In Erebossa, she¡¯d seen his true form. Grotesque. Bestial. And not remotely human. Without his body, he would have to return to Erebossa. He could not possess her¡ªif she wasn¡¯t to consume the nectar she suspected she wasn¡¯t to be possessed, either. ¡°Why take me, Artostes? Why kill my family? Why did it matter that my mother was a seer? And most of all, why deceive me? You didn¡¯t trust in the righteousness of the Goddess? Did you doubt that anyone who learned of Her could love Her?¡± Artostes reared back. Almost too fast for her to see, he leapt up¡ª Putting his throat right into her grasp. Little sickle moon shapes formed in his neck, where she impaled his flesh with her fingernails. Because Zephyra still sat in the throne, Artostes was forced once more to kneel before her. Up close, she could smell the hint of brimstone on him. To think, she always thought the scent came from mineral springs he favored. ¡°I will say the word,¡± she snarled. ¡°Answer me, or be gone!¡± Artostes did not struggle. He reached for her hand once, then dropped it and stilled himself. ¡°Your mother was a caltrop in our feet for thousands of years. Worst of all, she didn¡¯t even know she was interfering with us. We would have destroyed her another way. Then, by and by, we learned she had given birth for the first time in centuries. To a daughter. You were born in this generation, which made you useful now. The Goddess knew what you would become, and She knew that you would serve Her purposes most ably. Kill me, if you want, Handmaiden¡ª¡± ¡°Upasasu,¡± Zephyra snapped. Her blood raced through her veins even as she said the killing word. She let him go. First came the thud as he landed on his knees. Then the thump as his torso fell backwards Sightless, he stared up at the ceiling. Let the Goddess rage, but Zephyra did not care. No longer would she speak to the Goddess, or do Her bidding, or consult with Her. Let Her rage. Now the others lifted their heads. One began babbling, begging her not to kill them. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Please Handmaiden, please don¡¯t hurt us! We serve you, we swear it.¡± Zephyra rose and looked down at them. Forget the Goddess, it dawned on her that she was consumed with rage. These, lackeys, these lickspittles bowing and supplicating before her ought to be grateful she found no useful purpose in their deaths. ¡°Enough! If you have something to say that will please me, say it. If not, be silent!¡± This jolted them enough that they quieted for a moment. Like peasants, these men and women in fine clothes and perfumed hair remained on their knees. From one to the other they exchanged glances. Bewildered. Then, they looked to the body of Artostes. The ones nearest his body froze. Another scrambled backwards. Curious, Zephyra turned now to examine the body of her one-time father¡¯s chief deceiver. His eyes remained open, and his lips remained parted, as if he were still speaking. Yet his legs were tucked under him, with his torso thrown back and his arms splayed this way and that, while his face pointed up at the ceiling. Between his lips, wisps of black smoke unfurled. The abyssal. A howl shook the room. Tapestries lining the walls slapped violently against the colorful tiles. A marble bust of the shahanshah toppled from its pedestal, shattering on the mosaic floor. The others fell to their feet, but Zephyra stood her ground. The others screamed. The smoke kept coming, forming a column. Zephyra was obliged to look up, up in order to see the column brush against the ceiling, which would take six men standing one upon the other¡¯s shoulder to reach. Folding her arms, Zephyra waited. Shouting would be pointless; the abyssal would either hear her or he wouldn¡¯t ¡°Go back to the Goddess, and tell Her I am through with you.¡± The column of smoke folded upon itself, becoming a cloud that enveloped the rest of the inner circle. Zephyra¡¯s mocking laugher rang through the hall, at this threat she did not regard. ¡°If She doesn¡¯t need them¡­then of what value are they to me? Do as you will, and I shall do as I will.¡± The cloud surged back, swirling away from Amavand¡¯s confidants before vanishing from her sight. Now. Now for the key.
¡°Back!¡± Edana commanded. Without hesitation she fired the thunder mace at the dragon woman, her lightning joining the drake¡¯s flames, converging on and enveloping the creature. The drakaina was fast, flying into the fire and through it, lopping off the head of the nearest drake with one swipe of her sword. The fire did not faze her, but Edana¡¯s lightning burned one of the drakaina¡¯s bat-like wings. The drakaina landed unceremoniously on the ground the same time as the headless drake, which fell on top of the general and Zareen Prime. The agile serpent-woman reared up on her coils and lifted her swords, preparing to strike again. Bang! A gash appeared in its cheek, revealing raw muscle and the stumps of scissor-like teeth. Edana had the barest glance to her right to see Alia lowering her now-smoking gun. The dragon woman screamed. Teeth fell from the ruin of her mouth, scattering all over the floor. She whirled, allowing them to see her scorpion stinger for the first time. Like a whip her stinger lashed, impaling the general¡¯s ankle. Absolutely pinned in place, Shirzad¡¯s mouth twisted in silent agony as the drakaina¡¯s poison sped through his veins. Edana¡¯s heart thundered. Before setting out they had all taken the elixir prepared by the Eitanim priests. It should save them from the spiritual poison of the death wind, but she had no idea if it could protect against other kinds. The general¡¯s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his struggles ceased. Rescue was impossible; the she-dragon slithered too close to the prime and the general. The dead weight of the drake¡¯s body would require machinery to lift. Worse for Zareen Prime, she had landed on her side, unfortunately trapping her left hand beneath her body. Zareen Prime let out a primal yell as she raised her free hand, unleashing a stream of blue fire over the headless drake. The remaining two Salamandra joined her, putting a wall of sapphire flames between their fallen comrade and the drakaina, cutting it off. Alia shouted a blessing, and the flames turned white. Impressive, but Edana did not believe even holy Salamandra fire would deter a draconic being. Catching Bessa¡¯s eye, she raised her thunder mace. Immediately Bessa did the same. Together they fired, concentrating on the writhing creature¡¯s torso. The headless drake, as a fire dragon, was unconsumed by Zareen Prime¡¯s fire. Leaving her still trapped. Alia dropped to her knees, sliding next to the Fire Lady, and began slashing through the dragon¡¯s neck with her moonbow knives. Though she worked swiftly, she would obviously not free Zareen Prime before the drakaina struck again. ¡°Huntress, get back before the fire¡ª!¡± a watchmen gestured at Alia. He broke off. Edana followed his gaze. Though fire burned inches away from her, Alia appeared unperturbed by the flames. Subtle patterns glowing faintly on her green coat suggested an activated power. Obviously it was a power which made her invulnerable to fire. Rrrawwwk! Screeching, the two living drakes reared back and opened their jaws. They let out their own exhaust at the drakaina, pushing the wall of fire back on the dragon woman. The drakaina leapt. Her coils adhered readily to the walls as she undulated, her dragon scales flashing blue and white in the light of the fire as she slithered up. ¡°Back!¡± Edana cried. Belatedly she realized she was shouting into Sheridan¡¯s ear. He made no complaint, bringing their gryphon higher, to the ceiling. ¡°Neither of us need to be at close range to attack,¡± he pointed out. Tregarde flung out his hand, and a bubble of silver light shimmered over Zareen Prime, Alia, and General Shirzad. But he¡¯d misread the drakaina¡¯s intent. She leapt as soon as she was high enough, landing behind them, and with one swipe of her sword she¡¯d claimed another head. This time the headless drake fell straight down, allowing its riders to scramble back. The remaining drake struck, seizing the drakaina¡¯s arm in its powerful jaws. It yanked, tearing it free from its socket in a burst of blood even as the drakaina swiped again with her remaining sword. She wasn¡¯t fast enough; the nearest watchman lashed out with his own sword, slicing her torso wide open. The other riders had jumped down from the remaining drake, making sure they landed out of reach of the drakaina. Now on foot, the men scrambled back. The gryphons soared higher; the drakaina had effectively pinned both man and mount in place. The drake took flight, the flap of its wings fanning the wall of fire behind it. It ascended, putting itself out of the reach of the weapon it had learned to respect. The drakaina¡¯s scorpion stinger shot straight up, narrowly missing the aerial serpent. A trap. The drakaina saw it and slithered backward, holding her sword out to keep the group at bay. Blood gushed from her ragged stump. Boom! Edana recoiled, and saw for the first time the nature of the object Sheridan carried. A much longer version of Alia¡¯s gun, it was longer than the short-swords she was used to seeing. The Anshani gaped up at the weapon, frozen in their tracks. The drakaina recoiled. Above her breasts blood burst from a ragged hole. Blood spurted from the drakaina¡¯s mouth. Her remaining hand trembled. Echoes reverberated through the hall as her scorpion stinger rapidly tapped the floor. ¡°Arrows! Finish her!¡± One of the watchmen commanded. The other watchmen snapped out of their paralysis. They readied their bows with arrows tipped with heads of moonbow steel, ensuring they would penetrate the dragon woman¡¯s flesh. The Watchmen fired, aiming for the gaping hole Sheridan had made. The creature roared again. Bessa, perhaps remembering the Yellow Serpent¡¯s tactics with the manticores, peered around Tregarde¡¯s back and aimed her thunder mace for the creature¡¯s open mouth. She fired, sending bolts of lightning down the creature¡¯s throat. In short order Edana joined her. The drakaina writhed, smoke and fire pouring from her mouth. At last the sword fell from her hand, the metal ringing on the floor. Tregarde seized the chance, and with a gesture too quick for Edana to see, he executed a spell that caused the sword to lift. It swiveled like a spinning top. Tregarde flung out his hand, sending the sword spinning into the drakaina¡¯s neck. Her head flew off in a bloody spray that shot up to the ceiling, narrowly missing the drake. Unfazed, the drake let out an exhale of fire, cauterizing her neck stump. Everyone exhaled. But for their ragged breaths, all was silent. Edana sagged against Sheridan¡¯s back. ¡°Help,¡± Zareen Prime asked, a catch in her throat. Tregarde and Sheridan landed their gryphons and hurried over to Alia. She had almost completely severed the headless drake¡¯s neck from its body. But Zareen Prime and General Shirzad remained trapped beneath it. Balling his hands into fists, Tregarde aimed them at the drake. In the strange language of the Huntress he spoke, uttering spells. Slowly, slowly, the drake¡¯s body floated up. Hovering a foot off the ground, it wobbled. Veins bulged in Tregarde¡¯s neck. Then, with a loud grunt, he hurled the dragon into the opposite wall. Alia crawled over to General Shirzad and brought her ear to his lips. Then she probed his throat. Meanwhile, Bessa and Edana dismounted. They rushed over to Zareen Prime and dragged her into an upright position, holding her beneath her shoulders to support her. However, Zareen Prime was taller than they, and she could not gain her feet. She exhaled, and gave a weak cry as she nearly collapsed again. Her legs splayed, useless from the drake crushing her. The women lowered her gently to the floor. Blood and gore soaked Zareen Prime¡¯s robes. Edana used her own knife to cut the soiled clothes off of her. The foul strips of fabric fell wetly to the floor where she tossed them. The other watchmen came over to their general and knelt before him. ¡°He lives,¡± Alia assured them. ¡°But his pulse is weak.¡± Before anyone could react, Zaran Tertius held up his scrying crystal. ¡°The Handmaiden is near. We need to hurry.¡± ¡°But the general¡ª¡± one of the watchmen began. Zareen Prime had caught her breath. ¡°Can he be moved? Onto the drake? Then I will take him to the temple. Bring me that sword,¡± she said, inclining her head to the closest of the weapons the drakaina had dropped. The remaining drake landed. The watchmen gingerly carried their general to the dragon, and secured him to the drake¡¯s back as best they could. Zaran Tertius scooped up Zareen Prime and placed atop the drake, behind the general. Tregarde pulled a strip of cloth from his satchel. He bypassed the nearest sword, which was still in the grip of the drakaina¡¯s severed hand, and went for the one that rested free. He took no chances with the poison coating the weapon, using the cloth to pick up the sword by its handle and delivered it to Zareen Prime. Zareen Prime gripped it securely, and with a sigh she promised, ¡°I will get him to the temple. Go. And may the Destroyer be with you.¡± Chapter 31: In the Chamber of the Handmaiden Chapter XXXI In the Chamber of the Handmaiden In which they face the Handmaiden They regrouped. The drake took off, carrying Zareen Prime and the general. They watched it grow smaller and smaller until at last it disappeared from view. Only then did Alia asked a beast master to take the gryphons to higher ground outside. From this point forward, the group couldn¡¯t maneuver so readily with them. Through his scrying globe Zaran Tertius scouted ahead. ¡°We have a straight line to her¡­no arsh¡¯at?m to contend with. But I can¡¯t See anything coming from Erebossa until it gets here, just so you know.¡± ¡°Understood,¡± Edana said. ¡°Let¡¯s pick up the pace.¡± The watchmen took point, their swords drawn. The Salamandra took up the rear. The Lyrcanians kept out their guns, and Bessa and Edana held fast to their thunder maces. Each room in the royal wing carried a theme. They passed through what Tregarde dubbed the peacock room, for it was furnished and accessorized in peacock blue and green, with peacock motifs in the murals and woven through the curtains. As they jogged, Bessa wondered aloud if the drakaina had been placed to guard the Handmaiden¡­or to trap her? Alia glanced sharply at her. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Bessa made a sweeping gesture, as if to encompass the room. ¡°Unleashing all of these monsters seems out of character, doesn¡¯t it? Up to this point everything she kept her actions hidden, subtle. It took all of us to put it together. Now she just flings monsters and the death wind left and right? Why? Because the protector is dead? That¡¯s quite a bit of a tantrum, for someone who¡¯s kept her cool so far.¡± They rounded a corner, entering a creamy white and pale green room dedicated to the hellebores, which bloomed in winter. ¡°You¡¯re assuming that she was in control of everything. Maybe the lord protector was holding her leash,¡± Sheridan countered. The open corridor to their right earned a quick visual sweep from Alia. ¡°Safe! And Sheridan has a point: Junius held the leash of the Chaos Lords. The protector could have been in charge of everything here. But Zareen Tertia said there was an arsh¡¯at?m guarding the gate. How do we know it wasn¡¯t running things?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll find out soon enough,¡± Bessa said. Double doors brought them to an antechamber. Fine tawny marbles of lion-bodied lamassu lined a grand staircase. Twenty-four steps up, the landing featured a marble alcove displaying a gold and ivory statue of a legendary king of Elamis, from the time before the city¡¯s rulers had become vassals of the shahanshah. From that landing the staircase branched into two, with both halves hidden by the walls. ¡°Do we split up?¡± Nima asked. ¡°No,¡± Bessa insisted. ¡°We¡¯re down two people as it is. We stay together.¡± ¡°We must split up, because we can¡¯t see the ends of the right or left staircases. Someone or something can trap us if we choose the wrong branch,¡± Edana pointed out. Edana disagreed. They couldn¡¯t see the ends of either the right or left staircase, she pointed out. She turned to Zaran Tertius, who wore white jade rings as well as blue chalcedony. ¡°Do you sense anything?¡± He did not, but consulted his globe anyway to be certain. ¡°Either way is clear. All the same, I think at least two should wait here. As I said, something could come at us from Erebossa.¡± ¡°As Sel¨¤na did,¡± Edana said quietly, before lapsing into a brooding silence. Tregarde and Zaran Secundus decided to keep watch on the landing, while the others ascended the right staircase. Locked double doors confronted them at the summit of the right staircase. The ornate doors, constructed of burnished gold, engraved with motifs of soaring peacocks and glorious poppies, swung open with minimal creaking when Bessa applied her thunder mace to the locks. ¡°I wonder what the Ellura company would do with those,¡± Alia mused, pointing to Bessa¡¯s thunder mace. ¡°Hopefully something other than destroy things with it. The Ellura company seem to make fantastic wonders,¡± Bessa said. Assured no trap lay ahead of them, they waited for Tregarde and Zaran Secundus to rejoin them. In this quarter, the curtains remained shut, leaving the rooms in a deep gloom. Rich carpets lining the corridors muffled their footsteps. Methodically, Alia and the watchmen threw open every closed door along the way, checking for any potential threats to sneak up behind them. They found the woman in the fifth room. Beautifully appointed, the room clearly served as a gathering area. Three couches were arranged around a korsi. Unlikely the homey furniture of the inn, these couches were upholstered in sea silk and dyed a deep violet. Courtesy of a hitherto-unseen winter garden, vases on every table displayed pale pink roses. The watchmen whistled at this display of wealth. ¡°Wonder what the shahanshah has, if our lord protector had this,¡± one said, gesturing at the sofa. Having entered the room first, Alia remained a few paces in front of them. Thus, all eyes were upon her when she put a finger to her lips. Instantly on guard, everyone quieted, and looked where she pointed. Behind the middle couch, a huge gold mirror was fixed against the wall. Revealing a woman crouched behind the middle couch. ¡°You there: Put your hands up and step out where we can see you,¡± Alia demanded, using Anshani. The woman shrieked, then she uncurled herself from her fetal position and slowly eased her head up. Brown eyes peered at them below raised eyebrows. Her eyes rounded when she saw the array of weapons pointing at her. ¡°Be quick about it,¡± Alia prodded. In Pelasgian she added, ¡°People who don¡¯t want to be found don¡¯t hide in front of mirrors.¡± The woman obeyed, and meekly stared at them. ¡°The she-wolves,¡± she whispered. Alia and Edana rolled their eyes, and Alia said, ¡°Even I would not be thoughtless enough to insult someone who is pointing a weapon at me. Let alone a group of people. If I have to tell you a third time to show yourself it well not go well for you. Understood?¡± Now the young woman hurried from around the couch and stood in front of the korsi table. She looked no older than Bessa and Edana, and wore a fine, heavy gown of floral-patterned silk. She stared at them with doe-like eyes, but something about her stare pricked the hairs on the back of their necks. They fanned out around her, ensuring she could not escape them. Alia began the interrogation. ¡°We¡¯ve been held up long enough. Answer every question we put to you without delay. Who are you, and what are you doing in here?¡± ¡°I-I-I am Friya. I¡¯m the handmaiden of Zephyra. I heard the screams in the palace and I hid. Please don¡¯t¡ª¡± Bessa cocked an eyebrow, and Alia asked the question that occurred to all of them. ¡°If you¡¯re her handmaiden, why aren¡¯t you with her? Why cower here? Doesn¡¯t she need you?¡± ¡°She¡¯s gone mad,¡± Friya said promptly. ¡°First she slew the Magister of War, and she banished me from her side as well. I tried to persuade her to escape with me, but she¡¯s looking for something.¡± In Rasenan Bessa said, ¡°It¡¯s an odd thing, for a mistress to have so little trust in her slave.¡± Friya; however, spoke Rasenan, and savagely retorted, ¡°She is mad with grief. You killed her father, after all! And my mistress always wants to be alone when she¡¯s upset.¡± ¡°It bothers you that we killed the protector, but you seem unconcerned that his blood turned into rabisu,¡± Alia said. With her left hand she steadied her right hand, which gripped her gun. Friya¡¯s mouth worked silently as she warily eyed Alia¡¯s weapon. Then her gaze slid to Edana¡¯s daggers of moonbow steel. The sigils on her knives were glowing. Bright, snowy white light filled the room, and Edana held the knives out to make sure everyone saw. ¡°What is your true shape, Friya?¡± Edana demanded. Friya folded her arms and clenched her jaw. ¡°Does Zephyra know?¡± Alia asked her. ¡°Does she know you¡¯re not a person? What kind of shadowborn are you?¡± ¡°Damn you!¡± Friya screeched. The lines of her face reformed as the bones stretched in her cheekbones and shrank in her jaws. Before the metamorphosis could be completed, her former appearance reasserted itself. It had all happened in the blink of an eye, but they needed no further confirmation. The watchmen swore. ¡°You¡¯ve found me out. It will do you no good: I¡¯ve already succeeded in my mission.¡± Friya laughed, long and loud. When she stopped laughing she plunked herself down on the couch to the right of the korsi table, and crossed her legs in a relaxed pose. ¡°Where is Zephyra?¡± Alia demanded. ¡°Have you done something to her?¡± Friya laughed again. ¡°I can say nothing you can trust, huntress. Behold, you see that not even my shape is true. Nothing I say you¡¯ll believe. I am the one the tiresome priests of Arenavachi¡±¡ªshe spit on the floor, the saliva landing only an inch from Sheridan¡¯s boots¡ª¡°tell you not to be led astray by.¡± ¡°The Deceiver!¡± Zaran Tertius shouted, recognizing her at last. Friya shrugged, and only smiled. The others exchanged glances with each other. A spirit of lies. They had always heard of such things, but to be confronted by one in the flesh was another matter. ¡°This is a diversion we can¡¯t afford,¡± Edana warned. ¡°Dividing the truth from what she says will take more time than we have. Let¡¯s¡ª¡± Zaran Tertius broke ranks with them and snarled, ¡°In the name of Arenavachi!¡± He flung out his arm and the sleeves of his robe fell back, revealing what he held in his hand: a gleaming ring, the same diameter as a bracelet. Through it he channeled his fire, which turned gold, and unerringly found its way to Friya. She vanished without even a scream. Astonished, Bessa looked from the ring to the now-empty spot where Friya had sat. She sighed in frustration. ¡°I wish we knew what that thing was lying about. Is the handmaiden insane? Did she kill some magister? Is she even looking for something?¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t work that way,¡± Zaran Tertius replied, sliding the ring back onto his wrist like a bracelet. ¡°When her kind speak they don¡¯t solely tell lies. Even the truth will be made their slave, in service of lies. If they want you to believe they are a friend, they will tell you true things to gain your trust. Then come the half-truths, the careful omissions, and finally the outright falsehoods.¡± The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°If Zephyra is searching for something, we better stop her before she finds it,¡± Alia pointed out. Once again they picked up the pace, stopping only for a sweep of the other rooms until at last they came to one with an open door. Through the open door they glimpsed a lone occupant. Her back was to them, but Edana immediately recognized the black silk gown, embroidered as it was in golden opium poppies and belladonnas. ¡°Now,¡± Edana cried. Zephyra had only time to turn her head before silvery chains flew from Tregarde¡¯s hands to coil themselves around her wrists. A box crashed from her hands to the floor. Zephyra made no other sound as Tregarde twisted her to face them, then pulled, dragging her towards them. Where she halted, an Eitanite priest uttered a word, and a silver circle appeared beneath her feet. Tregarde still did not let go, but Zaran Secundus took hold of one of the chains, and Zaran Tertius approached her. Edana¡¯s heart leapt. They successfully captured Lady Nensela¡¯s daughter. Alive.
Zephyra glared at them, but said nothing. Here they stood, the three women she¡¯d vowed to destroy. What an interesting alliance: an Eitanite, a Ta-Setian, and a Siluran, coming together to fight her. To think, she once fancied she could make a present of the fire-hair¡¯s hands and tongue, for the sake of Amavand. Now she was the one in chains, bound by some means she did not understand. Bound in a way preventing her from shifting into Erebossa. Mentally she cursed herself for getting caught by the Eitanite woman. Of course the she-wolves¡ªthe foreigners¡ªfigured out her powers, and therefore how to keep her from shadow-walking again. Alia Ironwing¡¯s eyes blazed as she stepped forward, making sure Zephyra saw her. For the first time it occurred to Zephyra to fear the priestess. The iron woman had yet to show mercy to anyone allied with Amavand, and Zephyra suspected she never would. ¡°I was told not to kill you,¡± Ironwing began. ¡°The Huntress forbids it. But She said nothing about whether I should let you pay for your crimes.¡± Zephyra raised her chin. No doubt she was supposed to torture herself by imagining what torments the iron woman would dream up for her. But Zephyra was not one to cower or beg, and at the end of the day she did not believe the priestess intended to force her to. But the cold chains burned, and Zephyra couldn¡¯t stop herself from chafing her wrists. The human man holding one of her chains misinterpreted her actions. ¡°Don¡¯t bother trying to escape,¡± he said, twisting the chain around his fist. ¡°The chains and the circle keep you bound to this world. You can¡¯t get out of this by going into Erebossa. So settle down, little miss.¡± Little miss? He dared to be so insolent with her? Inwardly she sighed. So it began. This was how conquerers treated their conquered: tossing them down from their previously exalted positions and ruthlessly grinding them underfoot. ¡°What do you want?¡± she said it quietly, so he would know he was not getting to her. Zephyra stared past him. Two men guarded the door. One appeared to be Anshani. The second could pass for Rasenan, but he was dressed as a Lyrcanian. The Lyrcanian held a strange weapon, true to what she heard about the people of that enigmatic nation. This must be one of the weapons whose manufacture was a well-guarded secret. The Eitanite priest seized Amavand¡¯s box and turned it over in his hands. He would see its intricate lock but he would not be able to get past it, she was sure. Not so long as she kept the key. Ironwing snapped her out of her reverie with a caustic, ¡°I want to send you to the Abyss where you belong. You¡¯ve earned it a hundred times over. But for now we¡¯ll start with your damned abyssal you call a goddess. Zaran Tertius.¡± She nodded at the Salamandra standing next to Zephyra, and he seized Zephyra¡¯s right hand. Zephyra gasped; she had not expected a Salamandra¡¯s hand to be so cool. He gripped her tightly, a silent threat. ¡°You poisoned my grove, and abducted my aunts,¡± Ironwing began. Her long, slender fingers gripped her amulet. ¡°Why does your mistress want the daughters of the Huntress?¡± Zephyra swallowed. Two hours ago she could have tossed off a ready answer. But now? The wraiths that had seized Amavand¡¯s soul, and the¡ªthing¡ªinside the flesh of Artostes made her less certain of what she knew. Amavand had mocked her, claiming she was letting herself be swayed from the Greatest One because of ugly appearances. That Zephyra should not be influenced by the hideousness of the creatures the Greatest One had called to do her bidding. The rabisu. The al?. The strix. The lamia. And whatever Artostes was. None of these creatures did anything good, and she could not fool herself into thinking a goddess who would summon them was good, either. It¡¯s not their looks, Father. It¡¯s what they do, she thought. Could Amavand hear her? Or had the wraiths taken him to a place beyond all hope of him hearing her thoughts and knowing that she was thinking of him? For the first time in her life her mind was bereft of any plans, any answers. Her enemies were before her and would likely kill her, and she couldn¡¯t even bring herself to care. Kill her or not¡ªWhat did it matter either way? But then she started, realizing what Ironwing had said. The Huntress didn¡¯t want her to be killed? Why? That made no sense at all. ¡°What makes you think you can believe what I say?¡± Zephyra finally asked. ¡°If you lie I¡¯ll burn you,¡± Zaran Tertius said with a shrug. That was when she noticed the white jadestone hanging from his third spike. Getting burned by Salamandra fire was reputedly similar to getting touched by an asrai, except instead of feeling cold, whatever part had been touched by that fire would burn forever more. He trapped her right hand. If the rumors were right, she would have to cut it off just to escape lifelong torment. Or she could just die and get it over with. ¡°Fine. You¡¯ve made your point. I am in your power. Exult if you will. As for your question: the dryads are Her enemies. Why wouldn¡¯t She kill them?¡± Ironwing¡¯s cool stare made her look so very much like the statues of the Huntress at that moment. ¡°And that was enough for you?¡± Ironwing demanded. ¡°You just sent people all the way to Lyrcania just to kill some dryads you don¡¯t like? It didn¡¯t have anything to do with your wanting more lamias and soul-thieves brought into this world, did it? What does it say to you, that your queen is the enemy of One who protects people from these horrors?¡± Soul thieves? A bone-deep cold seeped into Zephyra at the thought. Why steal a soul? To do what? Coyness felt repugnant to her now. The foreigners had come a long way to find her, and their accusations against her, against Amavand, against the Greatest One, could not be lightly dodged. She had no justification for soul-taking. The presence of the lamia and strix were bad enough, and those evils were unleashed by her side. ¡°This is what I know: Lord Protector Amavand taught me the dryads and the naiads once faithfully served the Greatest One, in a bygone age. Then along came the False Ones¡ªwhom you worship as gods¡ªand the dryads and such turned aside from their paths. Six years ago, men, women, and children were massacred in this palace. Slain by dryads and their khrestai servants. I am sure you would deny all of this.¡± Her hand warmed slightly, and she would have jerked it away but for the iron grip of Zaran Tertius. He glared down at her, his eyes small and glinting. Should she make one wrong move he would render her to fat and ash in a heartbeat, she was sure of it. A faint tinge bloomed on his spikes, and it was all she could do not to cry out in terror. ¡°What part of what you say don¡¯t you believe?¡± he demanded. Zephyra swallowed. Undoubtedly he thought killing her would be justified. Could she count on him to be honorable enough to listen to her, or would he twist her words to find an excuse for killing her? Ironwing could hardly stop him in time, could she? Wait¡ª! How had it come to pass that she was relying on Ironwing for protection?! ¡°I believe that the protector told me those things,¡± she said carefully. Her chest hurt as she forced herself to say, ¡°I no longer know that I believe what he said.¡± ¡°Oh? And why is that?¡± Ironwing scoffed. Without heat Zephyra replied, ¡°If arsh¡¯at?m and other fiends bowed down to you, and saluted your presence, you might question a few things, too. Especially if you saw the soul wraiths take your father.¡± That made them pause. They glanced at each other. Zaran Tertius broke the silence. ¡°She believes that,¡± he judged. The pale foreigner¡ªZephyra forced herself to remember that the woman¡¯s name was Bessa¡ªlooked askance at her. She opened her mouth to say something, then stopped herself. However the Eitanite woman, whose name she had never heard, said something that made Zephyra¡¯s breath catch. ¡°That man was not your father.¡± Zephyra stepped back, then jerked sideways when she brushed Zaran Tertius¡¯s robes. ¡°How do you know that?¡± All control vanished, she could not hide her astonishment as she gaped at the foreigners. How had the foreigner known what Zephyra herself had only learned a few hours ago? Zephyra¡¯s heart pounded so loudly she was sure the others could hear it. What did it mean that the foreigner had known something about her that she herself had not known? Maybe the Eitanite had not been frightened when she¡¯d seen Zephyra in Arenavachi¡¯s temple. Maybe her look was one of recognition? The woman dryly replied, ¡°The protector did not appear to be a Pelasgian sea captain. I will answer your questions, but first you answer ours: where will Rahqu send the Atta¡¯u?¡± Reeling, Zephyra blinked stupidly in response. A Pelasgian captain of a ship? And he had died in the storm Artostes had made¡­the storm Artostes made on the orders of the Goddess¡ªfellshade. Fellshade. So. How easily she demoted her goddess to a mere fellshade. And¡ªwho was her true father? The question sparked something deep inside her. Until this moment she was not sure if she wanted to live or die. Those who could answer her questions had refused to enlighten her before they died. In death they separated her from the truth. From knowledge. From certainty. ¡°Rahqu?¡± she asked, unable to keep the bewilderment from her voice. ¡°That¡¯s the name of your ¡®goddess.¡¯ Said the blood of the man you called ¡®Father,¡¯¡± Alia said, undisguised scorn in her voice. Thousands of questions spun in Zephyra¡¯s mind. Her enemies knew far more about her than she did. Guile would not serve her now. No point in trying to gain any advantage. These people only wanted answers from her. And she only wanted answers from them. She straightened her spine. For hours her mind and her heart waged war with each other. Should she believe anything Amavand and his goddess told her? Or should she seek after the prophet who had warned her? Should she flee from, or destroy the women who had destroyed the man she¡¯d thought was her father? Hours earlier she would have prayed for wisdom. But now? What god would hear her now? Only one certainty presented itself to her: no longer did she desire to kill the women responsible for Amavand¡¯s death. But. Somehow, she must keep them from killing her. Ironwing had claimed she wouldn¡¯t, and so far she had never lied to Zephyra. All the same, safety lay in making herself useful. Her palm was still warm. ¡°I don¡¯t know where she¡¯ll send the giants,¡± she admitted at last. ¡°In truth I tell you I am no longer sure of what I knew. It may profit you to know what the lord protector and I were to do in Elamis.¡± Haltingly at first, she told them. She started with what Amavand had shown her of his memories. Then her training: she was to undo the works of the False Ones. Her first test was in ensuring that the dryads faltered. They were keeping out the Greatest One, keeping her trapped in Erebossa, and they needed to be eliminated. ¡°We brought the dryads here. Though I asked, they never admitted they were corrupted as I had been told they¡¯d been. But it didn¡¯t matter,¡± Zephyra said dully. ¡°We took their seeds, so the saplings could grow uncorrupted when we plant them. The Greatest One asked that we slay the dryads, that they could be returned to her side and reborn as pure as they once were.¡± Ironwing tightened her grip on her weapon. Her nostrils flared. ¡°Ironwing,¡± the Lyrcanian man by the door said, his tone urgent. ¡°Ironwing, the Huntress¡ª¡± ¡°I know what She said,¡± Ironwing snapped. Her voice shook with rage as she asked, ¡°How could you possibly have believed this nonsense? Such appallingly obvious lies, and you fell for it?¡± ¡°With the spirit of deception, and an Erebossan queen¡¯s servant lying to her every day, how could she not have been deceived?¡± Bessa pointed out. ¡°Lies surrounded her everywhere she turned.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t make excuses for her!¡± Prudently, Zephyra held her tongue. No excuses came to mind¡ªnone she herself would believe¡ªand she would not attempt to manufacture any. Her hand not withstanding, the icy daggers in her soul still chilled her. Praying for wisdom was not an option, she reminded herself. She had made herself the enemy of the known gods. She had turned her back on the Greatest One. If Ironwing or the Salamandra slew her now, the soul wraiths would take her away. Of this she was certain. Bessa walked over to Ironwing and clasped her shoulders. She waited until the woman lowered her weapon and looked her in the eyes before saying, ¡°You heard what your aunt said. Sel¨¤na was corrupted. And you know what we have to do if we¡¯re going to save everyone.¡± Sel¨¤na? ¡°We have her now,¡± the Eitanite woman said. ¡°Keep the chains on her and we can take her with us. If the others can¡¯t close the shadow gate after all we can destroy the citadel. ¡± Destroy the palace? Would they really do something so barbaric? But even the Anshani men nodded at this suggestion, and if they were willing¡­ ¡°Erebossi have walked here. We should bring it down regardless,¡± Ironwing insisted. She gestured to the Eitanite priest. ¡°Banish the circle. We¡¯re taking her with us.¡± The priest handed the box to Ironwing, and came over to Zephyra. The tall sorcerer was still holding one of her chains. He stepped forward as well. The priest had looped the chain over her wrist, now he clamped cuffs on her instead. Eitanite symbols incised into them glowed with a violet light. One symbol represented life, and the other referred to a yoke. So, they used Eitanite powers to trap her, she realized. Not that it mattered. Escaping was no longer her goal. Instead she looked around her bedchamber, taking it in. After all, she would never return here once her captors dragged her away. But when she looked around the room, she found that the emptiness in her heart would not fill: she was not attached to anything. Not the sumptuous furnishings upholstered in blue and ivory silk, not the expensive baubles and trinkets scattered in her jewel boxes, nothing moved her. The room was a lie, being designated for a member of the lord protector¡¯s family. And she was not his family. Only the altar held some significance for her, as it was the place where she communed with her goddess. The altar¡ª Zephyra shrieked as the altar burst in an explosion of stone and wood. It collapsed in a heap, shattered beyond repair. The scent of a thunderstorm filled the air, and she realized she had seen a flash of lightning and heard a clap of thunder. Ironwing. The huntress was still pointing the lightning quiver, obviously having snatched it from its now-empty sheath on Bessa¡¯s belt. Cool and calm, Ironwing turned back to face a stunned-looking Bessa and handed her the weapon, nodding once at her. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± the priestess said. She didn¡¯t even look at Zephyra as she swept from the room. Chapter 32: Vows and Stratagems Chapter XXXII Vows and Stratagems In which they prepare for battle Sheridan glanced at Alia as she brushed past him, but held his tongue. Wise of him, Alia judged. Speaking in a civil fashion was not in her at the moment, and Sheridan didn¡¯t deserve to have her snap at him. Shattering the altar to that obscenity of a goddess had felt good, but it was a temporary pleasure, a drop in a sea of rage. She choked back her tears. The unspeakable torments her aunts had endured at Zephyra¡¯s hands was terrible enough. But to know Zephyra had imposed their suffering for their own good broke something inside of her. Why, why did the Huntress forbid her from repaying Zephyra the evil she had done? Surely the Huntress wanted to avenge the defilement and murder of Her own daughters, what mother wouldn¡¯t? Whatever means Zephyra used to kill her aunts should be visited on her. Only slowly, and more painfully. Alia walked ahead, as fast as she could to put as much distance as she could between herself and that¡ªthat person¡ªbecause if she was in strangling reach of the Handmaiden, Alia would tear her throat out. The others followed. Though Alia listened, she heard not a single word from Zephyra. Not even a whiny protest about the destruction of the altar. The Handmaiden was no Brennus Fellrath. Apparently. What possible plans did the Huntress have for the Handmaiden? Aunt Nalini said Zephyra needed to be turned back to her original purpose. Zephyra was supposed to be a Restorite, but somehow she had been made into its opposite: she was a destroyer. One who uttered spells of negation in order to murder people. Still worse, she¡ª Alia halted in her tracks and whistled. The watchmen came up beside her. They had seemed to submit to her leadership, and she wondered if it was because they were emphasizing the watch part of her title of Watch-Huntress. They saw it as a point of commonality. Further, she had proved her legitimacy in their eyes by exposing the protector and protecting their city from the shadow fiends. ¡°Stop!¡± Captain Jahan shouted. He held up a hand, and the others abruptly halted. Blood red fog snaked down the corridor toward them. In rhythm with the beat of a heart it floated, coming no higher than their knees. With it came the iron tang of blood and death, thick enough that Alia tasted it. ¡°We have the aegis. We should be safe from the death wind,¡± Alia said quickly, glancing back at the Eitanite priest. ¡°Isn¡¯t that so?¡± The elixir should protect them from the death wind. Though Alia was loath to walk through it, they should be able to survive in its presence. ¡°We took the elixir,¡± Edana said. Cold fury washed over her as the meaning sunk in. On the one hand, she would not be guilty if Zephyra failed to survive the miasma. Right? How was she to know Zephyra would need their protection from her own side? Besides, likely the Handmaiden would survive just fine, since she was allied with the one who had loosed the death wind upon them. Samara flashed before her eyes, and the back of Alia¡¯s neck prickled with shame. No matter how much Zephyra deserved it, she wasn¡¯t worth risking the means to save Samara and the Land of the Radiant Gate. Though Alia wasn¡¯t responsible for their predicament, she was responsible for what she chose to do about it. Besides ¡­ there was no guarantee Zephyra wouldn¡¯t die quickly and painlessly if the miasma got to her. Alia whirled on her heels. ¡°Back. Hurry.¡± Zephyra stiffened when she saw the mist seeping towards them. She made no resistance when Tregarde pulled her along, forcing her to run at his pace. They all began running, dashing through Zephyra¡¯s apartments as fast as they could to put enough distance between themselves and the death wind. When they came to a fork in a corridor, Alia halted the group. Everyone took a moment to catch their breaths, but Alia turned to face Zephyra. Leveling her most Rikka-like stare, Alia demanded, ¡°Zephyra. Make yourself useful and tell us how we can escape.¡± Zaran Tertius grabbed Zephyra¡¯s hand, again preparing to certify whatever she said. ¡°That depends on what you want to do: I can get you to the gate. Or to the aerie. But not to both,¡± Zephyra said breathily, between huffs. ¡°The gate,¡± Edana said promptly. ¡°Or else everyone in Elamis will die.¡± ¡°That was the plan,¡± Zephyra muttered. Hastily she added, ¡°Not my plan. This is the excuse Artostes gave me when I asked about the army of arsh¡¯at?m. According to him, because we didn¡¯t have the dryad to sacrifice we would need a sacrifice of equal worth. The entire city would serve, he said.¡± ¡°And where is he?¡± Alia asked, shuddering in her disgust. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Zephyra said. Her arm jerked as Tregarde yanked the chain binding her wrist. The glare she shot at him was met with an impassive stare. With what dignity she could, Zephyra straightened her posture and fixed her face toward Alia, ignoring the sorcerer. ¡°When I killed him, he became a shade and fled the throne room.¡± When she killed him? Alia studied her, but found no trace of guile or deception. Internal strife between her enemies suited her own purposes, but for the moment she couldn¡¯t see a way to make use of it. ¡°We should get going,¡± Jahan urged. ¡°Show us the way to the gate.¡± Obediently, Zephyra stepped forward and marched ahead, without regard for Tregarde or Zaran Tertius. Such icy hauteur Alia had seen before, in the archons of Lyrcania. Of course Zephyra didn¡¯t imagine the men wouldn¡¯t follow her; in her life she was used to her servants anticipating her every whim and fulfilling it without her having to ask. At some point the girl would need to be humbled. Thoroughly humbled. But for now they needed to get out of the palace. Soon enough, Zephyra brought them to a set of double doors that were already thrown wide open, onto a garden. Or, what had been a garden. Hellebores and other winter blooms were ground into the dirt, their torn petals scattered everywhere. Pot shards littered the brick-lined paths. Swathes of dyed wool garnished the thorns of rose bushes, along with occasional drops of blood. A multitude of footprints told the tale. Prints which ended at the wall of rose thorns ahead. Warily, Alia surveyed the wall from where she stood in the midst of the garden. Until she knew what mechanism or spells were used to operate the wall, she wouldn¡¯t bring the group any closer. The guardsmen shut the doors behind them, enclosing them in the garden. Useless against the death wind, Alia thought, but no corporeal arsh¡¯at?m could take them unawares at least. Alia took out her Ellura Aura Detector No. 8 and crept to within arm¡¯s reach of the wall. To her surprise, the Ellura remained inert. What, no spells on the wall? Yet, obviously, those who ran towards it did not expect it to be a barrier. Somehow, they got past the wall. How? Alia turned a side-eye onto Zephyra, who as it happened, was watching her. ¡°Go through there to the tunnels,¡± she rasped. ¡°And the dungeons, where we kept the dryads. More than that, you can get to the gate from there. But¡­if the death wind came from the gate, you may be right on it. There are two entrances to the shadow gate, the miasma may have traveled both or just one.¡± Edana leaned against a quince tree, catching her breath. ¡°Honored One,¡± she addressed Narsai, priest of the Sower. ¡°Is there more of the elixir?¡± ¡°None,¡± he managed to say between coughing fits. He paused to rest on a bench. ¡°I brought none with me.¡± ¡°Why did it come to this side?¡± Bessa asked. She was looking right at Zephyra. ¡°I thought you were in league with whoever opened the gate. Why send the death wind where you will be? Don¡¯t they need you?¡± Zephyra remained upright, standing tall at just enough distance from Tregarde and Zaran Tertius to maintain some slack in her chains. Nevertheless, the seer still held her palm firmly in his own. ¡°I killed Artostes,¡± she said, without a hint of remorse. ¡°Even if he¡¯s angry with me, I don¡¯t think he¡¯d go against ¡­ Rahqu? He would not cross her. So unless she has someone in reserve, she wouldn¡¯t let him get away with killing me.¡± ¡°So does that mean you are immune to the miasma?¡± Alia pressed. If she was, it gave them options. How bitter it would be, if one of these people had to yield up their life just to save her. I will not sacrifice anyone to save Zephyra, Alia vowed to herself. ¡°I¡¯d rather not test it. I am¡­proof against many poisons.¡± She gestured to her robe, drawing their attention to the embroidery of opium poppies and belladonnas. Bessa frowned and folded her arms more tightly around the box Narsai had taken from Zephyra. ¡°Are those a boast of your prowess? Or are they symbols of Rahqu''s creed?¡± The note of reproach in her voice sharpened everyone¡¯s attention, including Zephyra¡¯s. However, the erstwhile handmaiden of Rahqu answered matter-of-factly. ¡°I wonder, now. Apart they are deadly poisons. Together they do some good.¡± ¡°If you count pseudo death-sleep as good,¡± Bessa snorted. Once more heedless of her guards, Zephyra started for the thorn wall. Tregarde; however, must have shared Alia¡¯s belief Zephyra needed humbling, because he remained where he was. Thus, Zephyra¡¯s body jerked the moment she exceeded the reach of the chain. With a yelp of surprise she whirled back at him. ¡°Mind how you go, little miss. Whatever traps and allies you have in those walls, just remember that every decent, and not-so-decent person in this city wants you dead. As for those of us within a dagger¡¯s breadth of you right now? We¡¯re the only ones who have a reason to keep you alive.¡± ¡°I am not unaware, sorcerer,¡± she said, without heat. ¡°The wall operates by clever machinery, not magic. As I will demonstrate.¡± This time, she waited for Tregarde and Zaran Tertius before she headed to the wall. Alia slipped in beside Bessa as they followed Zephyra, so she heard Edana ask for an explanation. Bessa answered, ¡°Papouli said you need a fine hand to use those poppies and belladonnas together. He used their elixir in surgery, or brewed it on behalf of midwives. He had no other purpose for them together; it was too dangerous for his tastes. One flower can paralyze you, the other dulls your pain. The belladonna¡¯s poison makes it painful to be in the light. If you mix it with the poppies you dream even as you¡¯re awake. Taking it makes you helpless, and you will not remember anything that happens to you. I can¡¯t help but draw a certain conclusion from that. Don¡¯t you?¡± Alia looked anew at Zephyra¡¯s gown. Where did the Handmaiden stand in the analogy? Did Zephyra see herself as the dispenser of poisons? Or was she the one in the waking dream, helpless and ignorant of all that happened around her and to her? Lies surrounded her everywhere she turned. Fury blinded her before, but now Bessa¡¯s words penetrated Alia¡¯s mind. And Aunt Nalini¡¯s words came to remembrance just then: The one you call ¡®Handmaiden¡¯ is only a toy, for she is manipulated like the toys I made for you in your sapling time. Desire for vengeance ebbed, if only a little, when Alia considered that when Zephyra fully learned the truth of how she¡¯d been toyed with her pride would shatter as completely as the flower pots littering the garden. Humbling Zephyra would require no effort from Alia beyond standing aside while the truth barreled into her. Ahead, Zephyra had reached the wall. As they watched she groped here and there along the wall, until suddenly a part of it swung open. Amber torchlight glowed from within the tunnel, illuminating a staircase curving down out of sight. Muddy tracks on the stone floors confirmed that some people had escaped this way. The watchmen again took the lead, on the grounds that someone could be waiting in ambush. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°Who all knows about these tunnels?¡± Alia asked. ¡°The servants knew,¡± Zephyra said with a shrug. ¡°Everyone knew, really. Knowing wasn¡¯t the issue, it was access: if you weren¡¯t an upper servant or one of Amavand¡¯s inner circle then you had no way of reaching the garden. You can only enter through my apartments or the lord protector¡¯s. Not everyone in the palace was allowed to do that.¡± Zephyra led the way downstairs. At the landing they came to a fork, where either they could continue down the stairs, or take another tunnel. Zephyra went into the tunnel, and Alia noticed the footprints did not come this way. ¡°What will happen if you do die from the miasma?¡± Tregarde asked. ¡°You¡¯re putting an awful lot of trust in your usefulness to a fellshade.¡± ¡°Indeed?¡± Zephyra said dryly. ¡°I am sure your lore speaks of people like me. What do you say would happen to my kind?¡± Tregarde didn¡¯t answer, but Narsai did. ¡°You would be judged. And likely fed to the Abyssal Serpent.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± came Zephyra¡¯s answer. ¡°Then that is what will happen, I suppose.¡± They moved in silence. Because of their quietness, they heard the footsteps. Footsteps not of their own making, Alia realized that immediately. The tread was unnatural. ¡°Weapons,¡± she murmured. They were quick to obey, all except Zephyra, whose hands remained cuffed. Zaran Tertius and Tregarde dropped into guarded stances beside her. Moments later, a shadowy shape appeared ahead. The shape shambled in time with the odd footsteps; clearly the creature was the one they heard. Weapons ready, they waited. Prudently, Tregarde put up another shield of protection. The shield was still in place when at last the creature stepped into the torchlight several feet away. A hirsute, squat-bodied, bulbous-headed creature lurched toward them. Powerful muscles rippled below matted black fur. Dim yellow eyes peered out of a round face. Seeing them the creature cocked its head and skinned its lips back from its flat yellow teeth. ¡°Bakhtak!¡± Zephyra cried. ¡°The what¡ª?¡± Sheridan started. ¡°Bringer of Nightmares,¡± Alia translated. Thanks to one of her cases she knew the bakhtak as a monster that menaced those who slept. It sought the deaths of sleepers, sitting atop them, crushing the breath out of them even as it reached into their dreams to change them into terrifying nightmares. Worse, swords did not affect it, for the bakhtak was truly more shadow than flesh. It only appeared to have a true body. Exuberant, Alia exhaled. Finally, something easy. This arsh¡¯at?m was no flayer. Having dealt with flayers no simple arsh¡¯at?m impressed her anymore. While the monster was impervious to swords, it was not impervious to amulets. She reached for her medallion, preparing to dispatch the monster. Suddenly, the bakhtak seized up. Its beady eyes rounded, and its mouth gaped open to reveal a cavernous throat. The bakhtak vanished, not even troubling itself to leave a corpse. Only then did they see another captain of the city watch, who straightened in surprise. He held out his own golden eagle amulet, which glowed leaf-green in his hands. Captain Jahan greeted his counterpart. ¡°Captain Darasha. Have you taken down the fellshade in the gate?¡± ¡°Negative,¡± Darasha replied, fastening the amulet around his neck. ¡°We need your help. Come!¡± As they ran, more sounds came to them. Screams, squeals, grunts, and growls, faint at first. They came to a fancy courtyard, where ornate bronze doors were shut fast beneath a magnificent white iwan arch. Beyond the doors, the sounds of battle assaulted their ears. ¡°Stop! Don¡¯t go in!¡± Bessa shouted. Everyone halted, including the guard captains. Bessa rushed ahead of them all and stood before the door. She threw her arms open wide, as if to bar the way. ¡°Don¡¯t go in,¡± she repeated. ¡°Look. Do you see?¡± She was pointing to the doors. Carved in high relief on the doors were motifs of jasmine, wolfsbane, belladonnas and poppies. Bisecting the door was a huge amulet carved to contain a symbol, which Alia did not recognize. The symbol featured a paradox being, one with the head of a lion, a man¡¯s body, and six serrated arms sporting hands of draconic talons. ¡°The gigalion,¡± Edana gasped. ¡°This is the monster the giants¡ªthe Atta¡¯u¡ªturned into when the soldiers at Red Pointe killed hundreds at once.¡± Ah. From what Mother taught her, Alia knew the shadow gates were not supposed to be marked in such a fashion. The Salamandra exclaimed as well. ¡°This is the wrong symbol,¡± Alia said, tracing an outline of it in the air. She was loath to get near enough to touch the symbol; it exuded unholiness. ¡°The door to a nekromanteion should have a holy symbol, a twining of the marks of life and death.¡± The amulet on the doors should have featured a labyrinth pattern of violet and red, the colors of life and death. The labyrinth itself would be encased in a meander border, patterned in white and black, the colors of the holy and the infernal. None could cross the gates without respecting such powers. Why would the symbol be changed to a monstrous creature? ¡°The Atta¡¯u come through such gates,¡± Zephyra said. ¡°But Artostes said you didn¡¯t have to use life-sowing magic to cross the seals. Amavand thought he had some sort of cheat to cross them. And I suppose he did: he was an Erebossan.¡± ¡°And that¡¯s the problem,¡± Bessa said, still pointing, and that was when Alia realized she was focusing on the posts and lintel. Something left deep claw marks in the posts and lintel, but not so badly to utterly obscure the shredded remains of the symbols once carved there. Bessa continued, ¡°I was warned once to never enter any room in a sorcerer¡¯s house if you couldn¡¯t see the posts and lintel of the doors. Sometimes they have symbols to bind a fellshade. At Honoria¡¯s, the ones on her door were to allow her to come and go, and bring other fellshades with her.¡± ¡°The binding on this one was destroyed,¡± Tregarde said, his lips thinning into a grim line. Alia and Edana drew their knives slightly from their sheaths. They glowed a brilliant white. Zephyra frowned up at the door. ¡°I never saw those markings before. They were covered with drapery ¡ª maybe the binding was undone long before this.¡± ¡°Can it be fixed?¡± Alia asked, looking at Tregarde, who was shaking his head. She remembered then that he had been unaware of the higher aspects of the Huntress¡¯ powers. Captain Darasha groused, ¡°That damn door has been our downfall. Two of the sorcerers tried to bind it, and the arsh¡¯at?m just kept sending beasts to kill them. I managed to get out, and I closed the doors just in time. That thing was sending more monsters. We¡¯re penned in; we can¡¯t cross the gate seals to close the gate.¡± Alia and Narsai glanced at each other. Twelve hours ago Bessa had suggested combining the powers of the Huntress and the Eitanim priests. Was he up to the task? The lines around his eyes and mouth suggested he might be twenty or thirty years her senior, but he seemed robust enough. Grey did not salt his hair, in spite of his age. Like her, he wore a symbol of a holy authority around his neck. His emphasized that his Speaker could sow life. Hers emphasized that she could protect it. She walked over to him and leaned close, so only he could hear her. ¡°I have an idea. But I should tell you that if we fail, we won¡¯t come out of that antechamber alive.¡± He met her gaze. His eyes were a stunning stark green, not the teal of Edana¡¯s. For the first time she noticed the scar running through his right eyebrow, and she found herself hoping that he¡¯d earned it in combat. ¡°So long as we bring down the citadel as we die, there is no place for regrets,¡± he replied. She inclined her head to him, a gesture of respect she had learned from the New Lyrcanians. ¡°Then let it be done.¡± Alia turned to the others and outlined the plan quickly. No one interrupted her, but she saw Bessa¡¯s eyes grow rounder and rounder. The Siluran began to tremble, then she steeled herself, snapping her jaw shut as she held back her protest. Sheridan; however, did not keep his silence. ¡°How can you be so sure this is the only option? You¡¯re the only one¡ª¡± She clamped a hand on his shoulder. The young man had gone pale, but his expression was animated in a way she¡¯d never seen in him before. As forthrightly as she could, Alia met his gaze. In the time she had known him, Sheridan had never offered rebellion. Her apprentice had been an apt pupil, quick to learn and measured in his actions. He had far less experience than she did at fighting against Rahqu, Queen of the Shadow Court, but she didn¡¯t doubt his devotion to bringing her down. ¡°If I die to close the gates, it¡¯s worth it,¡± Alia insisted. ¡°I am not so important that a city should die just so I can save myself. Besides, there¡¯s no guarantee I will die.¡± It was true, she told herself. It was not a given she would die, or they would die. They simply had no way to retreat. They won or they died.
Side by side, Alia and Narsai stood together, raising their amulets and pointing them at the door to the gate room. In their liturgical languages they each uttered prayers and incantations. Silver filaments shot forth from their amulets, streaking like lightning to the bronze doors. As soon as the filaments struck, the doors burst open, collapsing off their hinges to fall on the floor beyond. Now, at last, they witnessed the carnage meted out in the nekromanteion. Almost instantly a shimmering silver shield barred the doorway. A hideous shape rammed against the shield, vaporizing the moment it made contact. Quickly, more shapes appeared, each destroying itself as the Erebossi tested the shield. It held fast. Alia exchanged a wolfish smile with Narsai, who dipped his head to her, a small smile on his own lips. She turned to face Zephyra and her smile vanished. ¡°You stay here,¡± Alia commanded. Turning to Sheridan she added, ¡°Guard her well.¡± He opened his mouth to object, but she raised her hand, silencing him. ¡°It is not I who am asking you,¡± she said gently. ¡°The Huntress wants her alive. So keep her alive. All this time I trusted you to guard my back. Now I¡¯m trusting you to do this.¡± Sheridan nodded, the embers cooling in his eyes. ¡°Ironwing. It¡¯s been an honor.¡± A lump grew in her throat, and she looked away for a moment. When alone at night she sometimes lay in bed and wondered what her life might be like when she accomplished her quest to save her mother and her aunts. Without her mission to hunt Fellrath¡¯s Brotherhood, would she have a place in human society? In ways she could not explain, Alia always felt like an interested observer in the doings of humans. Not like a participant, but more like a politely tolerated guest. One who would be forgotten immediately once out of sight. But Sheridan didn¡¯t appear indifferent to her existence, which gratified her in a way she didn¡¯t expect. ¡°Likewise,¡± she managed at last. She cleared her throat. Casting about for somewhere to look, her eyes landed on Zephyra again. The other woman¡¯s jaw bunched, as if she, too, were on the verge of speaking. But the one-time Handmaiden dropped her eyes, looking at nothing. Was it guilt? Bile burned her inside. Certainly the woman ought to feel guilt. By no means was she worthy of protection¡ªbut Aunt Nalini had made it clear the woman was not expendable, so Alia was obliged to protect her. Even though Zephyra wasn¡¯t worth dying for. But Samara was. Rikka was. Aunt Xylia, her favorite aunt of all¡ªthey were worth dying for. If the only way to save them was to save Zephyra, then she would die saving Zephyra. She turned to face the others. The Salamandra were unsheathing their swords. Once bare in their hands, the swords flared into blue fire. Alia went over to them and blessed their weapons. Narsai was doing the same for the watchmen. Tregarde¡¯s daggers were already white with holy light. He stood nearest the shield, his eyes on her. You¡¯re the golden eagle. Fit for bigger prey, he¡¯d said of her. Her blood began to race, even as ice water filled her belly. There was always a bigger predator. Always.
¡°Stay here, Bessa,¡± Edana said, unsheathing her knives as she prepared for battle. Bessa drew herself up to her full height. ¡°You¡¯re not going in there without me!¡± Edana startled her by throwing her arms around Bessa and hugging her so fiercely that Bessa had to gasp for breath. Her hair brushed Bess¡¯s face, bringing with it the perfume of the violet-infused oil Edana brushed through her hair on the morning of the solstice. Had it only been yesterday? Tears stung Bessa¡¯s eyes. The world seemed to spin. ¡°I am,¡± Edana insisted. Her voice had a trembling note that she could not hide from Bessa. ¡°You¡¯re neither a sorceress or a priestess. Your knife only protects you from basilisks. Stay here with Sel¨¤na.¡± It was sensible. It was wise. Fury and terror washed over her, threatening to drown her like a wave pulling her out to sea. In her life she had seen her father dead, having been the one to find him hunched lifeless at his desk. Then came Papouli, who died watching the sunset with Grandmother in his arms. The faces of her slaughtered workers came back to her, as did the sketches of the tomb that would hold them. All of them were silent now, eternally silent, and she would never see them again this side of Erebossa. But if she understood Uncle Min¡¯da¡¯s stories, then Edana might go to a different part of Erebossa than Bessa would. If Edana died¡­if she died¡­ Edana drew back, sheathing her knife. Her hands free, she now lifted Bessa¡¯s left hand and pressed the palm of her own left hand against Bessa¡¯s. They still wore the bandages from their blood-binding ceremony. Edana¡¯s fingers felt warm. Warm with life, warm with the pulse of her beating heart. ¡°Bessa¡ª¡± Bessa violently wrenched herself free. ¡°Together! We do this together or not at all. That was¡ªthat was¡ªthat was what we decided! You know that. You know¡ª¡± She broke off. How could she explain? Seeing the Star Dragons return from the Red Daggers¡¯ headquarters without Edana had nearly destroyed her. In that moment she had vowed to herself that Edana would never again face such danger without Bessa there to watch her back. Had she gone with Edana, Gallo could not have carried her off to Honoria¡¯s, and Edana would stood a better chance of prevailing against the eidolon. In her own bedroom at Falcon¡¯s Hollow, Bessa had been the one to insist they were a pack. But when the time came, she had not been there to guard Edana. For this failure, this breach of honor, she must apologize. The greatness of the wrong meant she could not merely speak the apology with words, she must speak through her actions. To stay behind yet again would be unconscionable. A lifetime ago Edana had called upon her father¡¯s spirit to witness against her if she failed to live up to the bond he¡¯d made with Bessa¡¯s father. This time, Bessa would call upon her father¡¯s spirit. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Every word she would say was stoppered by her throat. Her tongue fastened to the roof of her mouth. Edana blinked, but made no move to wipe away her tears. Instead she unclipped the pouch at her belt, and pressed it into Bessa¡¯s shaking hand. Murena¡¯s keystone. Sorcha¡¯s stone hung around Bessa¡¯s neck. At her hips she carried the purse containing the orbs the Fire Lords had given them. And now, with Murena¡¯s keystone, with Sel¨¤na in her charge, Edana had effectively bound her to the world of the living. ¡°Elisabet Philomelos. If I leave this world¡­if I leave this world, don¡¯t do as I did: don¡¯t give your life to grief. Write your plays. Marry Lysander. Name your firstborn after me.¡± Without waiting for an answer Edana spun on her heels and rushed over to Alia, becoming the last to join the group. Once more she unsheathed her knives, the opalescent steel flashing in the light. Just once she glanced back, meeting Bessa¡¯s eyes. Then she was gone. Chapter 33: The Shadow Gate Chapter XXXIII The Shadow Gate In which they fight Artostes As soon as Edana stepped through the barrier the reek of brimstone and death assaulted her nose. The crimson miasma roiled over her, blinding her for a frantic heartbeat. She stumbled, catching her footing just in time as she slipped on a puddle of what she assumed was blood. Something hot, wet, and mushy stuck hard on the soles of her boots. While the miasma almost completely obscured the floor, a few patches allowed glimpses of blood and the shredded remains of what might have once been men. By strength of will Edana kept the contents of her stomach¡ªthe stench was no worse than what she¡¯d endured before, starting with the massacre of her caravan. She looked up. Her breath left her then. The paradox being facing them now was not like Murena, in that his legs weren¡¯t eels. His head, which was that of a man¡¯s, brushed the ceiling. His countenance promised death with every glance of his maggot-colored eyes. Like a man, he had a broad, barrel chest. In powerful hands he wielded swords of bone-cutting sharpness. His similarity to men ended there: below the waist, he seamlessly transitioned to the pus-colored body and stinger of a deathstalker scorpion, colossal in scale. With every turn he lashed the floor with his stinger, boring holes in his attempts to pin down anyone unfortunate enough to get in his way. He dominated the room, covering most of the gate seals. Behind him, noxious red mists wind poured out of an archway in the walls. ¡°A scorpion man,¡± Edana whispered. Lore scrolls in Lady Nensela¡¯s library told of scorpion men, the formidable guardians of the nekromanteion. As a scorpion man, the foe before them now possessed a singular advantage: the ability to stand upon the gate seals and cross them with impunity. Nothing Edana read of them said the scorpion men were inherently hostile¡ªthey were supposed to be neutral, and didn¡¯t attack anyone who wasn¡¯t trying to unlawfully enter the shadow gates. Just how many creatures had Rahqu suborned? Having sheltered behind the captains of the Watch, Edana came to an abrupt halt when Captain Darasha exclaimed, ¡°By the gods! That¡¯s Artostes! That scorpion bastard is Artostes!¡± He pointed his sword at the scorpion man. ¡°The leader of our war council? That Artostes? By Khratu, who is leading our people?¡± Captain Jahan sounded both dismayed and furious all at once. Standing still made Edana twitch in apprehension; the miasma hid too much. Then, from the corner of her eye she glimpsed a wriggling mass silhouetted in the red mist. Her entire body recoiled in reflexive disgust before a bolt of alarm shot through. ¡°Drakaina!¡± Edana warned. Just in time, as the snake-haired serpent woman burst through the mist, adroitly slithering around Artostes and barreling straight toward them. Instinctively Edana leapt back, nearly missing Tregarde as he rushed past her. A shimmering haze of silver swooshed up, from floor to ceiling, in a semicircle in front of the doorway where everyone clustered. But in the center of the circle, a thin handspan of an opening left them vulnerable, to the mist in particular. Before Edana could cry out in warning, Tregarde¡¯s purpose became clear: the drakaina tried to slither her way through the opening, and got a spear through the neck for her trouble. The watchmen, with their long spears, were allotted that opening to guard. Narsai swiped up one of the fallen drakaina¡¯s swords, using it to clear a path through the rabisu as he extended Tregarde¡¯s barrier rightward. Lightning flashed as Edana used her thunder mace against a rabisu hurling itself toward him. The al? were surging forth from the open gate behind Artostes, swarming around the scorpion man. Edana slashed the air with the moonbow-steel knife in her left hand. ¡°By the Speaker! To the Serpent with you,¡± she screamed. White filaments shot from her knife, lancing through the barrier¡¯s opening to the nearest of the al?. At the far side of the room, beyond Artostes, Edana glimpsed Khorshid. He sheltered with several others in the doorway of a secondary entrance to the gate room. No sorcerers stood amongst them¡ªit was their bodies she tripped over near the bronze doors. Tregarde and Alia arced left, making steady progress towards Khorshid¡¯s group. Once complete, Tregarde¡¯s barrier would enclose the monsters occupying the gate seals, leaving only the sliver of an entrance he¡¯d left for the drakaina. Silently, Edana cheered the shield¡¯s progress. But she wasn¡¯t the only one who understood what Tregarde was up to: Artostes quit his revolutions. He lunged, aiming for Tregarde. Alia, guarding Tregarde¡¯s flank, leapt back, taking the sorcerer with her. Artostes impaled the floor where they had stood not a heartbeat before. With a feral laugh, Alia whirled forward. The scorpion man skittered back, leaving the point of his stinger behind; learning too late that Alia was fast with her knives. Artostes screamed. Sickly effluent gushed from his tail, burning the ground where the droplets landed. As one, the Salamandra gathered around Khorshid hurled fire at Artostes, and Alia uttered a blessing, changing the fire from blue to white. The holy fire drove the scorpion man back to the death-wind gate. Any of the monsters between him and them were destroyed instantly. His body dissolved, back to the smoke form Zephyra had said he¡¯d taken when she slew him. The Salamandra broke off their attack, having no means to affect him in this state. Without Artostes in the way, Edana could now see the shadow gates. Mercifully, all of them were shut, except the one from which the death wind billowed forth. Through the mists, eyes glinted and teeth glistened. ¡°Come!¡± It was Alia, gesturing wildly at Edana and Narsai from the opposite side of the room. The al? were dashing themselves against the shield. Narsai, having extended the barrier all the way to the right of the open gate, unleashed his amulet again. Edana hastened to obey. Running left, she held her knife straight out at her right, where it penetrated through the barrier. Each al? she sliced flew backward, into the maw of the shadow gate. Ahead, the watchmen held their own against the arsh¡¯at?m, pushing them back with their spears. She dashed behind them, Narsai hot on her heels. Suddenly Alia was before her, and green lightning clashed with violet as the huntress once more joined her amulet with Narsai¡¯s. Those al? who were fast enough retreated beyond the shadow gate. The others met their end. A new barrier began to shimmer, this time in front of the shadow gate itself. Then it happened. From the bowels of the shadow gate a titanic claw shot forth, bursting through the gate and into the midst of the gate room. Long, gnarled fingers uncurled from a fist, exposing the palm of the claw. A gale of wind poured out from the palm. Shadow-Artostes dissolved into it, vanishing into the claw as if he¡¯d never been there. The claws closed again, making a fist of the palm once more. A fist too large to fit through the archway of the death-wind gate. Though Edana braced for it, she still swayed on her feet when the force of the fist slammed into the archway. Cracks and gashes appeared in the supports of the archway. Allowing one more horror to enter the fray. The newest arsh¡¯at?m looked like a man, or like something that had once been a man. Its sickly green skin, withered cheeks and eyeless face was the first hint of its nature. On its body, once-sumptuous clothes¡ªa silk surcoat and trousers¡ªnow flapped about him, tattered and decayed. Eyeless, the man nevertheless turned its head this way and that as though it could see them. The creature¡¯s cadaverous hands stretched out before it. With every blink of their eyes the group saw his nails grow and grow, until it sported foot-long fingernails which curved inward, like a cat¡¯s claws. What was that? Alia and Khorshid exclaimed as one, calling out the name jiangshi. Then, Alia shouted something else that Edana managed to catch above the maelstrom. Hearing it, her blood ran cold. Soul thief.
Bessa¡¯s heart was in her mouth. She ran to the shield barring the antechamber from the gate room, but did not step through it. Her upbringing left her too well-schooled in honoring her duties for her to give in to her impulses now. But something had to give, and that something was the dam that kept her grief in check. She let out a loud keening, overcome at last. Despair brought her to her knees. Sinking onto the hard floor, she took no notice of anything else around her. Even her sight dimmed as the world went black. Visions came to her then, of Edana dead, of herself having to live without her sister. She pounded the floor, putting all of her rage into it as her keening turned to sobbing. The first time Edana left her, when they were children, Bessa at least had the comfort of imagining a reunion. This time¡­this time no comfort availed itself to her. All she could imagine now was a bleak future without her best friend by her side. And she could do nothing at all to help her. So she wept, her body racked and aching. How long she wept she would never know. Little by little voices penetrated, until Sheridan¡¯s sharp question pierced through her fog of sorrow. ¡°¡­Don¡¯t you have anything we can do?¡± Bessa¡¯s ears perked up. Was there anything? She wiped her eyes, prepared to do anything Zephyra might suggest. But Zephyra only shrugged and muttered something. In an instant Bessa was on her feet again. She hurled herself at the Handmaiden, knocking the woman flat on her back. Bessa straddled her, pinning her to the floor. The faces of her dead came back to her. Slaughtered when they should have been safe in her beds. Running in terror for their lives from beings who should only have existed in nightmares. Dead because it suited Zephyra¡¯s plans. And now Edana may die for the same reason. And Zephyra had the nerve to shrug? To react with indifference to their plight? As if the deaths of all these people meant nothing? With all her might, all her rage, and all her grief, Bessa brought down her hand, slapping Zephyra hard across her face. The blow must have stunned Zephyra, for her eyes went flat. Which allowed Bessa to get in another slap. Then a punch. In High Siluran and Low Bessa called curses down upon her. Whether she was still dazed or not, Zephyra raised her hands in front of her face, but she was no match for Bessa¡¯s fury. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. In a blur Bessa found herself upright again, her feet off the ground and her arms held fast behind her back. She kicked violently, managing to connect with Zephyra¡¯s knee. Freed now, Zephyra scrambled back, out of reach of Bessa¡¯s kickspan. Only when Bessa found herself facing a tapestry did it finally dawn on her that Sheridan had pulled her back. His voice came to her from far away. ¡°¡­Optima Philomelos¡­You need to get a hold of yourself,¡± he was saying, his voice low in her ear. ¡°It¡¯s just two of us against her. I will need your help.¡± Her breathing slowed. She choked back a sob, and the thunder in her ears quieted as her blood slowed again. Spent, she relaxed against Sheridan. After a moment his iron grip on her eased slightly, and he lowered her so that her feet touched the floor. Only then did he shift his grip so he pinned her arms at her sides instead of behind her back. Calmly, Bessa turned to face Zephyra, who was only just beginning to sit up. Gingerly, Zephyra touched her lips, probing the cut Bessa made with her signet ring. She eyed Bessa warily, but said nothing. Slowly, she rose to her feet. Gone now was any trace of arrogance. If anything, she looked thoroughly chastened. It occurred to Bessa that in Zephyra¡¯s life no one had meted out corporal punishment to her; doubtless everyone she knew treated her with deference and paid her obeisance. Well, those days were over. Darkly amused, Bessa swallowed her anger as she came back to herself at last. ¡°They¡¯re dying in there. Because of you,¡± Bessa spat. ¡°Good men and women and children on my estate died because of your damned Atta¡¯u. Because you sent them to kill my family. And now my sister¡ª¡± she broke off, feeling her pulse rise again. A memory bubbled up, of her and Edana when they were still small, playing catch-or-run among the rows of grapes in Bessa¡¯s vineyard. No. No. Now was not the time to let herself give in to fury or sorrow. Focus! With a hard stare she looked Zephyra over, taking her measure. The so-called Handmaiden looked enough like Lady Nensela that Bessa could not help but think the resemblance a dishonorable mockery. She could not stop herself from saying it aloud, either. ¡°You¡¯re nothing like your mother.¡± Zephyra flinched. ¡°My mother lives? But I thought¡ª¡± Whatever she might have said, she reconsidered. Instead, she drew herself up to her full height, looking for just a moment as regal as Lady Nensela ever had. But with none of the seer¡¯s warmth, her spark of humanity. Just a cold formality, from a woman who had been accustomed to being treated with reverence. In her heart, Bessa fervently desired to strike Zephyra again. However, Sheridan still kept a hand on Bessa¡¯s arm. ¡°Let me go, Sheridan. Don¡¯t worry. I won¡¯t kill her. I¡¯ll even keep my hands to myself.¡± Sheridan stirred, but did not let go of her just yet. ¡°We need to leave,¡± he insisted. ¡°Ironwing is not going to let us down. If she dies closing that gate, we can¡¯t let it be for nothing.¡± ¡°Go? We¡¯ll have to trust her to guide us. I will trust her to do nothing. She was raised by a fellshade.¡± Again Zephyra flinched. ¡°Optima,¡± Sheridan began, ¡°we still need to get out of here, regardless. And if Sel¨¤na or Zephyra or whoever she is leads us into a trap, we will kill her before we die.¡± The young man put such steel in his voice that Bessa shivered. Apparently Zephyra felt it, too, for she clasped her arms about herself as if bracing against a chill. ¡°Optima ¡­? I can swear by nothing you or I would believe in. But I¡­I do want to know about my family. And you are the only one left, it seems, who knows anything about them. You keep calling me ¡®Sel¨¤na.¡¯ If that is my name, then you know more about me than I do.¡± In ordinary times Bessa would have felt compassion for such a plight. But unrelenting rage was also not her nature, and thus Bessa checked a spiteful reply from passing her lips. Instead she took a deep breath. ¡°Does it mean anything to you that those people in there are risking their lives? Anything at all?¡± Bessa searched the other woman¡¯s face, looking for some sign that even a vestigial conscience resided in her depths. But though she was no longer stunned, Zephyra¡¯s hazel eyes remained flat. Cold. Was she even human? Or was she truly an eidolon? Sweet Amyntas, let it not be so! When Zephyra spoke her words were careful, measured, a hint of her mother¡¯s cadences. ¡°It means a great deal to me that two whose deaths I diligently sought are giving their lives to protect mine. I no longer wish to kill any of you, Bessa Philomelos. Nor will I rejoice if Edana or Alia should die.¡± She raised her hands, which were still cuffed, and reached into her bodice. From it she drew out a long knife, sheathed in an elegant violet shagreen and embroidered in a filigree of red-violet hepatizon. Bessa started and Sheridan moved. Quick as lightning, Sheridan whirled Bessa behind himself. He pointed his pistol at Zephyra, and his hand did not shake or tremble as he took aim. Gracefully, Zephyra dropped to her knees. She set the knife down upon the floor, then rose up again to face them. ¡°In the hour when I hunted Alia Ironwing I was visited by the Sending of a woman. She told me I would live if I lay down my weapon. It was my father¡¯s¡ªit was the protector¡¯s gift to me.¡± A curious edge came into her voice just then. ¡°He said it was a gift from the goddess. A gift from Rahqu.¡± From behind Sheridan Bessa peered at the woman. Did she say¡ª? Did it mean¡ª? Lady Nensela. Oh, it had to be. A thrill rippled through Bessa. Perhaps the reason Lady Nensela had not awakened was because she was projecting herself elsewhere, seeking the daughter she once prophesied would save them all. If it were so ¡­ if it were so, then it was the first tether of hope Bessa had to latch onto. No. Right now, she had to see what was in front of her. And right now, Zephyra was stepping away from the knife. Of her own volition she had disarmed herself, revealing a hidden weapon they had not suspected her of carrying. Zephyra was asking them to trust her. Which Bessa could not do. Sentimental though she was, Bessa could not bring herself to assume that the wicked woman carrying Lady Nensela¡¯s blood in her veins must be a good person, ¡®deep down.¡¯ To judge Zephyra she must take into account Zephyra¡¯s past actions. And those actions had been guided and shaped by fellshades, their servant, and the spirit of deception allied to them. But Lady Nensela had foreseen this moment. And in doing so, she must have trusted that Bessa would be true to herself. So. Maybe Zephyra had been schooled well enough in deception to feign the appearance of surrender and contrition. Or maybe, free from the influence of Rahqu and her minions, Zephyra was reassessing what she thought she knew. The priests in Aletheia¡¯s temple would know. More to the point, if Zephyra drank the waters in Aletheia¡¯s sacred grotto, she would remember. She would remember the truth about herself. In her mind a plan took shape. Bessa stepped from around Sheridan. Before she could speak the sight of the dagger arrested her attention. So beautifully wrought it practically begged her to take it for a spoil. Instinct told her to reject the temptation. From what Lady Nensela had reported, Halie had destroyed every part of the Red Daggers¡¯ base. The demigoddess further refused to allow the Star Dragons to take anything belonging to the band of outlaws. And all because Murena had trod in their halls. There was peril in that knife. From Sheridan¡¯s pack peeked the box they had taken from Zephyra. Like the knife, the box was also covered in shagreen, this one teal, and bossed with gold. The lock upon it reminded her of Edana¡¯s description of Duke Gagnon¡¯s asrai lock. This one; however, was made of polished jet instead of jade, and cut with an intricate carving. ¡°What is in that?¡± Bessa lifted the box out of Sheridan¡¯s pack and waved it for emphasis. ¡°The dryads¡¯ seeds, which give us the way to the sacred tree. The tree the simurghs guard.¡± Bessa exchanged a glance with Sheridan. He lowered his gun, but still kept a sharp eye on Zephyra. The simurghs guarded the Tree of Life. The Restorer¡¯s tree. ¡°What were you planning to do to the tree?¡± Sheridan demanded. ¡°You were poisoning the springs of the naiads and the groves of the dryads. You were going to destroy the tree, weren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°It was going to be turned to a different purpose¡­Amavand had vowed he would find it for the Grea¡ªfor Rahqu. He charged me with doing it,¡± she replied. ¡°The tree that cures all sickness and evils,¡± Sheridan said woodenly, ¡°was going to be turned to a different purpose.¡± Zephyra put her fingertips to her temples, as if she had a headache. Her body sagged. When she spoke, she sounded exhausted. ¡°Again, I understood the works of the False¡ªthe ones I was told were the False Ones¡ªto be corruptions. Now hurry. We can leave if we go back the way we came. All we have to do is go down the steps, the path we did not take.¡± Bessa looked back at the barrier to the gate room. Still it shimmered, and no evil shapes had charged it since Edana and the others had gone into the Gate Room. ¡°May your Speaker keep and guard you,¡± she whispered, her heart heavy once again.
With Sheridan¡¯s gun at her back, Zephyra led them out of the tunnels. Bemused at the weapon, Zephyra had looked at it with her eyebrows furrowed, and Bessa privately supposed Zephyra had never seen a demonstration of its power before. For such reason¡ªwell, for one such reason¡ªBessa kept her thunder mace unsheathed. Thanks to Alia, Zephyra definitely eyed that with undisguised respect. Crisp air hit Bessa¡¯s cheeks when they stepped outside, shocking her to an alertness she hadn¡¯t realized she¡¯d lacked before. Greedily she gulped in the fresh air, reveling in the cleanness and the weightlessness of it compared to the stifling oppression of the citadel. She glanced up and down the street, searching for some landmark she could use. Like a beacon Aletheia¡¯s stele, shone brightly against the now-darkening sky. The magnificent structure must be at least a good mile from the dusky street where they¡¯d emerged. One mile to go. Cautiously, Bessa looked around for signs of arsh¡¯at?m. However, it turned out Zephyra had brought them to a dead-end street. A blessedly empty dead-end street, for now. Yet if something did lurk near, they would be trapped. Her neck prickled and she shuddered. Once again she looked to Aletheia¡¯s stele. One mile. Just one mile. Zephyra was already starting forward, and she moved swiftly. ¡°I know this route,¡± she said. ¡°I came this way the other day.¡± ¡°When you were going to kill Gira?¡± Sheridan asked. The lithe young man kept pace with Zephyra, despite her speed. Deliberately, Bessa brought up the rear. ¡°Yes. That recently,¡± Zephyra calmly agreed. ¡°In that time I had to evade attention from people. Now we have to hurry. I want your scryers to show us the battle. It may be that there¡¯s something I can do, after all.¡± Bessa arched an eyebrow, but said nothing. What could Zephyra possibly do? And from out here? Without her powers? They turned a corner, and Zephyra jerked back. ¡°Someone¡¯s coming,¡± she said, putting a finger to her lips. Sheridan pulled her back, alongside Bessa. In turn Bessa pivoted on her heel so she was facing Zephyra. Coldly she kept her thunder mace pointed at Zephyra, just in case. Sheridan eased ahead of Zephyra, and peered around the corner. ¡°It¡¯s the watchmen,¡± he said, and turned back to them. ¡°We¡¯re over here!¡± The watchmen shouted greetings in turn. In his odd Lyrcanian accent Sheridan spoke to the guards in Pelasgian, and they answered using the same language. This was how she learned that the watchmen had been sent to retrieve them. ¡°We apprehended the others who came out already; Lord Fravak saw them through his scrying pool. We had hoped to see more of you, though,¡± said one of the watchmen, coming into Bessa¡¯s view now. ¡°Come quickly. We¡¯re monitoring the battle.¡± Eagerly Bessa stepped forward to obey. And stopped in her tracks, as the men instantly pointed t heir swords at Zephyra. They looked her over, their gazes cold and calculating. ¡°She¡¯s the one who sent the strix and lamia after our children?¡± Profound hatred radiated from his entire body. Even his voice dripped with hatred. And Bessa couldn¡¯t blame him, but she had to find a way to defuse the situation before everything fell apart. ¡°I did not send them,¡± Zephyra said quickly. ¡°And the one who did I slew with my own hands. I am their prisoner.¡± She jerked her head at Bessa and Sheridan. ¡°And you¡¯re not a threat to us? Is that it?¡± the watchman demanded, his hand on his sword. ¡°I did not say that,¡± Zephyra carefully replied. ¡°What I can only say is that I have no intention of harming you. Accept that or not, but I am not yours to kill.¡± Bessa grit her teeth. Did this woman not understand herself to be defeated? Clearly, Alia should not have told her they wouldn¡¯t kill her. If Zephyra believed she would get away with her wicked crimes, she would become a problem later. And¡ªwhat did she mean by agreeing she was a threat? Bessa¡¯s gaze strayed to Zephyra¡¯s cuffs. According to Edana, the cuffs bound Zephyra to the natural world. This alone barred her from entering Erebossa, as her powers were a kind of death magic. The Eitanim worshiped the Sower, and Uncle Min¡¯da had convinced her their power was stronger than Zephyra¡¯s: the cuffs should, by extension, bind her from committing any other death spells. ¡°She can ride with me,¡± Bessa said, trying to hide her impatience. The watchmen had ridden horses. At Bessa¡¯s command, they helped Zephyra onto one of the horses first. Then Bessa mounted, once again putting her thunder mace in Zephyra¡¯s back. ¡°Lead the way, please, and double time if you will,¡± Bessa said. They needed to regroup, and fast. Chapter 34: The Choices Chapter XXXIV The Choices In which the die is cast My name is Sel¨¤na. My name is Sel¨¤na. And my mother is alive. Zephyra¡¯s mind reeled. Mentally she could not get her bearings. Every muscle in her body felt as if she were pulling a wagonload of bricks and stones. She sagged, exhausted. The day had thrown so many shocks at her, and the sun had not gone down yet. Yet still she lived. True to the seer¡¯s words, she lived. Her heart skipped a beat as she relived the Siluran¡¯s assault on her. If the Lyrcanian man hadn¡¯t been there, would the Siluran have killed her? His presence alone saved her, because she was now helpless, thanks to the Eitanim. With the silver cuffs on her wrists they took away her powers. Physically she might have retaliated¡­but the look on the woman¡¯s face checked her: not spite, not malice, but anguish. Pain that showed through above her rage. Somehow, in some fashion, Zephyra had hurt this woman. And it was this thought that troubled her. Anger she would have shrugged off. Anger didn¡¯t move her, as she would expect an ideological opponent to be angry with her. Even Alia destroying her altar made sense, for Zephyra would have cheerfully destroyed an altar to the Huntress. Had she not also looked forward to the destruction of Arenavachi¡¯s stele? But pain? The agony in the Siluran woman¡¯s eyes made Zephyra feel diminished. Small. Every excuse she would have made, every lie she might have told herself crumbled before the Siluran¡¯s distress. The accusations she made against Zephyra were not delusions. When Amavand and Artostes and made their plans, Zephyra had sat high in their council. She knew the plans for Rasena Valentis, for Lyrcania, for Anshan. Orders to destroy this or that must of course result in the deaths of those involved, and intellectually Zephyra knew that. But those deaths were irrelevant. Necessary. To overthrow the False Ones and make manifest the Greatest One meant sacrifices must be made. Once She appeared and took Her rightful place, the sacrificial offerings would surely feel honored for the roles they unwittingly played in bringing about the Greatest One. But here one of those offerings stood, and Zephyra¡¯s certainty came crashing down. The only thing tether she could cling to now was that the prophet had not led her astray. Giving up Amavand¡¯s knife did buy her some mercy. Even if doing so made her heart wrench a little. Amavand giving her the knife had been a sign of his love. His trust. She had nothing left of his, and she never would if the strangers prevailed. Anger surged in her, and she wasn¡¯t sure if it was directed at herself or Amavand. Why did she miss him? Why did she cleave to what affection she thought he¡¯d shown her? He had lied to her, kept her from her family. He¡¯d alienated her from the regard of decent people. Every time the others looked at her, their eyes blazed and their lips curled. The Salamandra meant it when he said he would burn her, and no one protested the possibility when he¡¯d grabbed her hand. Her hand! Zephyra held it up and examined it closely. The Salamandran¡¯s warmth had not lingered, and she sighed her relief. The soldiers of Elamis despised her. When she told them she hadn¡¯t sent the blood fiends after their children, she spoke truly. In strict terms she spoke truly. Yet. The fiends were part of her faction. She had served with Artostes; had been as much his student as Amavand had been. Her hands were not clean. In good time they came to the temple. To her surprise they used a servant¡¯s entrance, rather than the main one. ¡°The people will want to rip her up. We can¡¯t let them do that on sacred ground. They shouldn¡¯t bring disaster on themselves because of her,¡± one of the soldiers explained to the Philomelos woman. ¡°Understood,¡± she agreed. What did the Lyrcanian call her? Optima Philomelos? From what little Zephyra knew of Rasena Valentis, optima meant the woman came from the ¡°optimates¡± class of Rasena Valentian society. Either she held significant land holdings which brought her wealth, or her father had served honorably in the legions of Rasena Valentis. Which meant the damaged finery she wore when confronting Amavand was not a ruse. Her ploy to make herself seem like ¡°one of you¡± to the Elamisi was not a ruse. On the line between truth and falsehood, yet again the Siluran and her faction fell on the side of the truth. A lump grew in Zephyra¡¯s throat. Was everything she knew a lie? Inside the temple, Arenavachi¡¯s acolytes awaited them, and ushered them inside. ¡°Are you taking us to the grotto?¡± Optima Philomelos asked. ¡°There¡¯s something we need to do there.¡± An acolyte affirmed as much, and Optima Philomelos nodded with undisguised satisfaction. Zephyra gave her a sidelong glance. What was the Siluran up to? Inside the grotto, a cluster of Salamandra awaited them, along with violet-robed Eitanite priests. They turned to see her when she entered the room. Hard, flinty eyes met hers. Some people folded their arms across their chests, others openly put a hand to their weapons. The crowd maneuvered, some shifting forward, some shifting back until they formed a phalanx. Once completed they exchanged glances with each other, nodding in agreement before turning their full weight on her. Allied against her. And well they might be; her gaze strayed to the spot where she had killed Gira. As expected, no blood remained to mark the desecration. All trace of her crime had been wiped away, and when she breathed deeply the scent of hyssop came to her. But regardless, everyone in the room knew what she had done. ¡°What¡¯s happened?¡± the Lyrcanian and Optima Philomelos asked at the same time. They didn¡¯t seem to notice the crowd¡¯s hostility, but then, it was not directed at them. Optima Philomelos added, ¡°Did Zareen Prime and General Shirzad make it out?¡± ¡°Yes, and trust they are in the care of the Restorites,¡± an acolyte replied. Fravak beckoned them with a flick of his fingers. He was looking into the Well. With her lightning quiver Optima Philomelos prodded Zephyra forward, and they drew even with the priest. Zephyra¡¯s spine stiffened when she saw the scene in the pool. Ironwing and the Eitanite woman still lived, but something was in the gate room with them. Recognition made her heart skip a beat. Let¡¯s see how strong you are. That¡¯s what Artostes had said, years ago, as he escorted her to what he called the proving grounds. Only later did she learn the room was truly the antechamber of the shadow gate. It had been a harrowing night for her. She had struggled mightily to awaken from a never-ending stream of bloodcurdling nightmares, only to learn as she awakened just why she couldn¡¯t scream. A bakhtak perched on her belly, crushing the breath out of her. The hideous creature grinned down at her in obvious amusement at her distress. Breathless, she could not gasp or call for the guards to aid her. She had groped in vain for some sort of weapon, but nothing was near except her pillows. She had tried to writhe her way free, but the fight made her breathing harder, and with each hard-won breath the bahktak grew heavier. It let out a strange sound, somewhere between a bark and a laugh. Zephyra stopped struggling. No sound emerged from her lips when she parted them to scream. Tears coursed down her cheeks as at last the futility of her struggle sank in. Desperate, she clutched her amulet and tore its chain from her throat. An amulet of the Greatest One, a gift for her fifteenth birthday, which had passed that day. She brought it to her lips as her sight began to dim. Did she have to die this way? What enemy had sent the nightmare beast after her? She lashed out, shoving the amulet into the bakhtak¡¯s mouth. Its breath was hot on her fingers. She recoiled at the saliva coating its teeth and tongue, but she forced herself to drive her hand further in, raking the hard edges of the amulet against the creature¡¯s tongue until she found its throat. She let go of it, dropping the amulet down the gullet of the beast. It leapt up, clutching its throat. Zephyra coughed violently and smiled, pulling her legs up from under the beast and drawing her knees to her chin. She braced her back against the headboard and raised her legs still more, keeping both her feet together. Putting every ounce of strength into it, she shoved, straightening her legs so that her knees locked on impact. The bakhtak fell backward, allowing her to scramble off her bed. The creature danced frantically, hopping from one stubby leg to the other. Zephyra raced for her altar. In her haste she dashed herself against it, but did not regard the pain; so intent was she on groping for her knife. Her fingers at last closed around the handle. Normally she used the little knife to make small offerings of doves and any other bird she loved. Now instead she slit her own hand open. ¡°In the name of the Greatest One,¡± she cried in her triumph, ¡°I banish you from my sight!¡± The bakhtak vanished, its screams echoing on the walls. Only then did the guards come. They brought her to Lord Protector Amavand. When Zephyra explained what happened, he summoned Artostes to his chambers. The two men exchanged glances when she repeated the part where she killed the nightmare arsh¡¯at?m. ¡°My daughter is ready for the test,¡± Amavand had insisted, pride edging his voice. The Lyrcanian man snapped her out of her reverie. He was explaining to the others what sort of creature the jiangshi was. ¡°It¡¯s a kind of soul thief,¡± he was saying. ¡°It sucks your life out of your body.¡± Optima Philomelos¡¯s hand flew to her lips, and all color drained from her face. A small moan escaped her. From the corner of her eyes Zephyra stared at her. If her friends died, the Siluran would likely consider it justice if Zephyra should die, too. The others erupted at news of a soul thief. Zephyra¡¯s head began to pound as she tried to follow the thread of the cacophany. Quickly, one thing became clear: none of them had heard of the jiangshi, nor did they know how to counter it. Unnoticed, she backed away from them. All of them were focused on the Well. On their terror for their friends. From their point of view, she ceased to exist. Possibly because they intended to make her cease existing in short order. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it The door was clear. Zephyra could escape if she wished. But instead she scrambled up a rock formation overlooking the Well. She let out a loud, high-pitched trill with her tongue, ululating as though in celebration. As one they whirled about. Seeing her, their hands went back to their weapons. Instantly Zephyra broke off. She suppressed a smile. These people would rejoice at her death; no sense in recklessly provoking them. Three of them were already starting forward, their shock worn off. She stopped them in their tracks with her next words. ¡°I know how to kill that thing.¡±
The jiangshi leapt high and landed with such force that the ground shook. Edana, impervious to trembling ground, remained upright. Unfortunately, one of the guardsmen pinwheeled for a heart stopping moment, crashing into one of his fellow guards. The second guardsman pitched forward, across Tregarde¡¯s barrier. In the blink of an eye the jiangshi unfurled its tongue, coiling it around the watchmen¡¯s neck and yanking the man to him. ¡°Zhubin!¡± Captain Darasha cried. The jiangshi received Zhubin in its outstretched claws, which were so long they spanned the entire width of the watchman¡¯s back when it grasped his shoulders. The claws impaled Zhubin, piercing his armor and sinking into his back, putting an end to the man¡¯s struggles. The monster opened its mouth and made a sucking noise that made Edana¡¯s insides freeze. It stole the breath right from the watchman¡¯s lungs before anyone could even react. The jiangshi finished him quickly. Long and slick, its tongue curled around Zhubin¡¯s torso. Thrills of terror rippled through Edana¡¯s body when the tongue lifted Zhubin off his feet. Without any effort, the tongue hurled the watchman¡¯s lifeless body, sending the corpse flying right at Tregarde and Alia. They dodged right and left. The corpse crashed against the wall with a crunch before crumpling to the floor. Yet again the Salamandra unleashed their fire, but the jiangshi leapt once more, retreating into the tear in the shadow gate barrier. Stunned, motionless, everyone froze. Edana eyed the damaged shadow gate with open suspicion. She worked loose the bandages on her right hand. The cut she¡¯d made for her blood bonding had come open during her fight, and she bled anew. Edana darted over to Tregarde¡¯s shield barrier, stopping short of where she¡¯d last glimpsed one of the gate seals. She held her hand over the seal, palm down. The droplets fell, and she quickly waved her arm in a wide arc. A violet light flashed from somewhere near her feet. In an instant the miasma retreated. Edana allowed herself a small smile of triumph. Now she had a better view of the boundaries for the first ring of the seals. In reverse of how she came she went left, dropping her blood onto each seal in the ring. The death wind retreated from every seal Edana closed. Alia unleashed her amulet, aiming for the shadow gate. Narsai and the four remaining priests joined her in short order. A silvery have undulated beneath the arch of the shadow gate, but their shield was incomplete over the gate. Tregarde hurried forward, redrawing his shield line to account for the new boundary Edana had made. But soon enough Edana came to the center of the room, directly across from the open shadow gate. Here she stopped, unwilling to come closer to the gate. Baleful eyes still glared out at them. At that moment Khorshid appeared beside her, unleashing another tongue of fire toward the rapidly closing rift. ¡°Fall back,¡± he commanded. Alia¡¯s original stratagem called for them to close the front door to the gate room, and work their way to the second, sealing off their every step along the way. Closing the first door would oblige the shadow beasts to concentrate on the second. More to the point, it would trap the infernal creatures in the room, allowing for more destructive tactics. Edana stepped back. Movement from the corner of her eye brought her to an instant halt. Captain Darasha shouted. She whirled, then gasped. Zhubin¡¯s corpse jerk itself upright, as if pulled from above by an invisible string. Those standing nearest the once-dead officer reflexively scrambled back, out of reach of Zhubin¡¯s newly forming claws. However, Darasha advanced, swinging wildly with his sword, but the creature leapt over his head. Its tongue lashed out as it jumped, wrapping around Darasha¡¯s neck like a scarf, and continuing down his torso, immobilizing him. Darasha retained his sword by sheer force of will, but it was of no use to him. The jiangshi landed once, behind Darasha, then leapt again, high enough to force Darasha off his feet. It landed hard, cratering the ground. The bones in Darasha¡¯s legs audibly cracked as they broke. Alia and Narsai had almost closed the shadow gate. Zhubin¡¯s jiangshi tongue became a lasso, spinning Darasha wildly over his head like a bullet in a sling. The tongue let go, sending the watch captain hurling over to Alia. Just in time she ducked, and the man passed over her head. Though only for the space of ten heartbeats, the break in her concentration shrank the shield she was making over the shadow gate. Setting back her efforts. Darasha landed on his back, directly in front of the gate. The seals had not been neutralized there, and he screamed as the death powers roiled over him. This time; however, several claws shot through the shadow gate. These hands were the size of men¡¯s hands, and they reached for the screaming captain. The claws seized the captain and snatched him from their sight. Before anyone could react, the jiangshi moved again, latching its tongue this time onto Tregarde¡¯s neck. With his sacred moonbow-steel knife, Tregarde slashed up. In one stroke he severed the creature¡¯s unnaturally long tongue. He danced backward as the jiangshi fell, unwinding the severed member from his throat. He swung it over his head, then brought it down, slapping the jiangshi¡¯s head with enough force to knock a man senseless. Two of the Salamandra pounced then. They dashed over to the jiangshi, their swords aglow with their holy fire. Two quick swipes and the jiangshi was no more. ¡°Fall back!¡± Alia shouted. The shield she and her fellow priests were creating over the shadow gate still remained incomplete. With the other gate seals still active, her methods would require time. Time she would not be permitted to have; something on the other side of the shadow gate was fighting them. Sweat drenched the priests, dripping into their eyes so they were temporarily blinded. Could they outlast whatever was on the other side of the the gate? So long as Alia¡¯s barrier was incomplete the priests could be distracted, or worse, killed, by whatever came through. ¡°It¡¯s a trap,¡± Edana whispered. The thing on the other side was toying with them. ¡°Back now,¡± Alia said through gritted teeth. The obvious strain in her voice prompted all of them to hurry to the second door. Leaving the priests to do battle alone. A gargantuan talon shot through the gate rift, large enough to seize a scorpion man ¡­ or three or four ordinary men. Serrated blades lined the bottom of its forearm. Edana¡¯s heart pounded. Could it be? Alia and the others shifted, aiming for the talons even as they fell back, moving for the door. Just as she suspected, the creature the hand belonged to slipped through the shadow gate with ease. Edana¡¯s heart sank. The gigalion.
¡°Stop it, right now,¡± the Lyrcanian demanded. ¡°Just stop. Whatever you¡¯re planning, whatever you think you¡¯re going to do¡ª¡± Zephyra snapped, ¡°Truth-seers, come now. There¡¯s no time for this, come to me.¡± She held her hands palms up. They didn¡¯t move. No one moved. Frustration made her grit her teeth. Of course they were resisting her. It was sensible. Likely the echomancers explained to the others how she murdered Gira: with her touch alone. Perhaps they believed she could do worse than kill them by touching them. How could they know the limits of her abilities? She stood outside the order of things as they knew them, and they would ascribe any infernal ability at all to her. Patiently she said, ¡°I was trained for this. That creature is a jiangshi as I said. You can kill it with its reflection, or with stakes from the peach tree. There¡¯s one in the garden we passed through¡ª¡± ¡°And how should we get to the garden?¡± Optima Philomelos asked. ¡°If this is a ploy to let you walk through Erebossa again¡ª¡± ¡°And why in the world should we believe you?¡± the Lyrcanian man pursued. ¡°Why would you be trained to fight these creatures? Aren¡¯t they allied with your goddess?¡± ¡°They were practice,¡± Zephyra replied, and tried to still herself against the memory. ¡°And you¡¯re wrong; the jiangshi are not in the power of the goddess,because they¡¯re native here. They are your own dead, come back to this world when the living do things they ought not to regarding the dead. The people of Xia know of them. Listen to me: in every session, the jiangshi was the penultimate creature that appeared. After it came one of the Atta¡¯u. Who do you think is on the other side of the shadow gate?¡± Everyone in the assembly before her exchanged wary glances with each other. Not one of them looked as if they believed her. If the Atta¡¯u arrived, Ironwing and the Eitanite were done for. The Greatest One, Rahqu, had declared those women her enemy. Now that Zephyra knew Rahqu for a liar, the safest course was to assume that whatever she wanted she must not have. Including the humans whose deaths she sought. In some fashion or other those specific humans threatened her, and killing them would bring her a victory. Except Zephyra was not going to let her win so easily. She looked straight at Optima Philomelos and pointed to her. ¡°Optima Philomelos. Time is short. You wanted me in this room for a reason. Let¡¯s do this.¡± The others stared at the Siluran, who did not appear to be perturbed at all by their attention. Instead she folded her arms beneath her bosom and addressed them calmly. ¡°She has no memory of her true self,¡± she said patiently, and flicked a glance at the Well. Silence as the others digested this. If Zephyra drank the water, she would remember her true identity. And remember also her father and her mother. Did not Arenavachi¡¯s name mean ¡°the Truthsayer¡±? Optima Philomelos hesitated, then beckoned to her. The Siluran maintained a neutral expression as she looked over Zephyra. Or rather, Zephyra had supposed the woman had meant to look neutral. But for all that the Siluran had demonstrated a mastery of crowds, she had not grown up in the court of the protector: her eyes gave her away. Hope. Hope drove the foreign woman. And perhaps, perhaps, the memory of Zephyra¡ªSel¨¤na¡¯s¡ªmother? Optima Philomelos had acted as if she was insulting Zephyra by declaring her wanting in comparison to her mother. Once Zephyra descended to the ground Guileless Fravak strolled up to her.He held an orichalcum rhyton, a horn-like cup, molded at the bottom in the shape of a lion¡¯s head. ¡°Drink from the Well and your memory will be restored,¡± he said. ¡°Drink from the Well and you will know truth from lies.¡± She took the cup from him and peered into it. Pure, crystalline water which did not show her reflection, only the beaten red gold of the cup. If she drank from the water, she would die. Everything she was would die. All her thoughts, dreams, sorrows, joys, everything that made her who she was, would be annihilated with a sip from this cup. But it was no loss. ¡°Zephyra¡± had been a construct, a lie carefully seeded and nurtured so that it might bloom for some terrible purpose. However¡ªZephyra had not been weak. She had not shied from the truth. Now she would not shy from her end. Drink. She drank. At first the water merely cooled her tongue, refreshing her in a way she had never been refreshed before. Then it happened. Stars burst in on her vision, everything spun before her eyes, and her mind spun, too. Her nerves jangled as she screamed, the fire inside consuming her. The floor vanished. Unmoored, she plunged to hidden depths. Or was she? She fell and she fell and she fell, never once landing. That was when she saw It. Monstrous, revolting to behold, a many-tentacled arsh¡¯atum reached for her. The thing moved so fast she could not hope to escape it. Screaming, Zephyra twisted and turned as she dodged the relentless tentacles. A column of white fire surged before her and around her, enveloping her entirely so that she could not move or even attempt to escape without destroying herself. A queenly voice rang out, ¡°Trespasser! Thief in My abode. Where I am you will flee. Where I walk you must wither.Begone from My house. Begone from My sight. Your work is undone, I have destroyed it past your mending. Begone! In My name, begone!¡± The monster shrank away, fleeing at once, though it howled with a rage that shook Zephyra to her core. The queenly voice came from all sides of the column of fire, but the speaker did not reveal herself. Slowly, the column vanished, but not before the voice spoke again. ¡°You have drank of My waters. I am restored to you. Walk now in memory. Walk now in truth.¡± Her great fall ended. The last thing Zephyra heard was the voice of Optima Philomelos asking, ¡°Is she dead?¡± ¡°No. She will awaken.¡± Chapter 35 Chapter 35 Decisions In which the next mission is revealed The sting awakened her. Sel¨¤na blinked rapidly, taking in the shapes that quickly resolved themselves to heads and then faces. Optima Philomelos. The Lyrcanian man. Yes. And the Guileless. Fravak, high priest of Aletheia. Aletheia. Waves of memories crashed over her and through her, flooding her mind all at once. Arms flailing, she bolted upright even as she cried out. The others jumped back. ¡°Mother¡­!¡± Pain filled her chest, constricting her heart. Papa was dead. Doubts could take no root in her on that score, for she watched, helpless and terrified as he sank beneath the sea when their ship burst into splinter and ash. Not once did he surface, destroying her desperate hope in his survival. Now and forever, Papa was lost to her. Her vision blurred as the tears filled her eyes. ¡°Who are you?¡± Fravak demanded. The urgency of his tone made her force herself to care about his question. ¡°I am Sel¨¤na Sideris. My father was Captain Telamon Sideris. My mother is Nensela of Ta-Seti.¡± Shuddering breaths stole her voice; she could say no more. Hands seized her then. Blinded by her tears, she didn¡¯t see who wrenched her to her feet. At least two people, of sufficient strength to brook no resistance from her. But in her distress she had no thought of resistance; only of trying to catch her breath. ¡°They killed him,¡± she managed. ¡°Artostes. Amavand. They killed my father. Oh, Papa!¡± Grief roiled over her so violently that she swayed on her feet. The Lyrcanian man grabbed her upper arms and held her fast. ¡°They¡¯ve killed a lot of people,¡± he said, sounding surprisingly gentle. ¡°And I¡¯ve helped them,¡± Sel¨¤na wailed. She stopped short. How true her words were. And she knew it, in a way she had not known before she drank the waters of Aletheia. Aletheia. The name Sel¨¤na had used for the ally of the Relentless One. Mother had sworn fealty to the Relentless One. Mother¡­ Sel¨¤na¡¯s muscles locked. The Lyrcanian man and one of Aletheia¡¯s priests still held her fast. Wittingly or not, they were all that kept her upright just then. The weight of revulsion, of shame, would otherwise make her collapse to the floor. But one memory intruded, over and above the memory of Papa¡¯s death: the reason Zephyra chose suicide. The objective she sought when she drank from Aletheia¡¯s well. Quickly, Sel¨¤na searched out one face in particular in the crowd. ¡°Optima Philomelos. Your friends are in danger,¡± Sel¨¤na said through clenched teeth. Control. If she failed to control herself, she would fail to save the others. ¡°We know,¡± Optima Philomelos said patiently. ¡°You claimed¡ªwell Zephyra claimed¡ªthat she could help them. That she knew what to do. Was that true or not?¡± Relief flooded her. They were listening. Finally. ¡°It was true,¡± she said. ¡°It still is. Let me go and I will do it. But¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s here! I mean, it¡¯s there!¡± this from one of the Salamandra. The others rushed to look at the Well. Sel¨¤na stood on her tiptoes to see past the person in front of her. ¡°The giant has a staff of abolition,¡± she whispered. Though she whispered, Optima Philomelos hovered close enough to hear her. Her eyes flashed as she demanded, ¡°Did you say a ¡®staff of abolition¡¯?¡± ¡°It is a sliver of Rahqu¡¯s power; she allotted it to the Atta¡¯u when she Claimed them. Let me go!¡± Because the men who held her were focused on the events revealed in the Well, she managed to wrench free of them. But fear checked her: if she ran, she would likely be run down and confined. Instead, she watched in growing horror the tableau unfolding in the waters. In the gate room, the giant pointed the staff at one of the watchmen. The soldier vanished in a burst of wind. Everything seemed to happen at lightning speed. An Eitanite priest seized her wrists, and with a word released her from the cuffs. Sel¨¤na¡¯s hands flew to her diadem. Smoothly she shifted, entering Erebossa once again. For the last time, please. Without thinking about it she teleported, first across the lake, and into the citadel, and then once more. ¡°Hurry!¡± ¡°Take its head!¡± Sel¨¤na whirled. From beside her the giant loomed. Thank Amyntas, it did not perceive her just yet. But the staff flashed, in recognition of its true mistress. She couldn¡¯t¡ªwouldn¡¯t¡ªuse Rahqu¡¯s name. Nor call her the Greatest One or the Goddess, so the abyssal queen¡¯s higher powers were unavailable to her. But she didn¡¯t need them, for Rahqu had miscalculated. You would be no good to her, Amavand once said, and now Sel¨¤na knew exactly why. She held out her hand, willing the staff to come to her. The lion giant staggered as it felt the tug of her power. It turned, and she knew it was searching her out. The staff flew from the giant¡¯s claws. It left the material world entirely, falling into Erebossa. And into Sel¨¤na¡¯s hand. ¡°Begone, child of Chaos,¡± Sel¨¤na snapped, calling upon the icy queenliness she¡¯d heard in Aletheia¡¯s voice. ¡°I give you no leave to be here. Go back to Erebossa.¡± The giant turned and turned, enveloped now in tongues of the Salamandra fire. It lunged in her general direction, but as she remained in Erebossa it could not see her. ¡°I will tell you no more! Obey me or be destroyed!¡± The lion giant lurched. With great force, Sel¨¤na struck the staff against the floor, then aimed it at the open shadow gate. Hisssss. Sibilant noises radiated from the shadowy shapes inside the shadow gate. Yet, mercifully, the fellshades did not attempt to slip through the still-closing rift. Why? Through shifting shadows something metal gleamed, just beyond the growing shield. Sel¨¤na narrowed her eyes, focusing on the metal object. Gradually, she realized the metal was armor, worn on the twisted and crumpled body of a watchman. This was what contended the fellshades: the body and spirit of a mortal. ¡°Give him to me!¡± she commanded. ¡°And take back your own.¡± A blur of red came flying toward her, landing at a slide at her feet. Sel¨¤na waved her staff, and the giant flew back, into the rift. The rift. For a moment she shifted her attention to the mortals. In her right hand Alia Ironwing clutched a chrysoprase amulet carved to resemble a golden eagle. Brilliant green light flowed from the amulet, into the rift. Vivid violet light came from the amulet of an Eitanite priest. Alia¡¯s nostrils flared. Her right hand shook. Quickly, she seized her wrist with her left hand, steadying her arm. Sweat sheened her forehead. Right, then. Sel¨¤na fixed a determined gaze upon the rift. In this matter, too, she would make herself useful. ¡°Be closed, be shut, be gone!¡± In the wink of an eye the rift sealed, trapping inside everything on the other side. Smooth bricks appeared now in a blind arcade in the walls, where once the shadow gate yawned wide open. Sel¨¤na glanced down. At her feet lay the watchman¡¯s broken body, his limbs twisted every which way. His eyes were shut, but ever so slightly his fingers twitched. And his spirit writhed. Here in Erebossa she saw his spirit clearly, a golden facsimile of his bodily form. No soul wraiths came near him, strong testament that he was not a wicked man. The spirit watchman fought, clinging fiercely to his mangled body. Fighting not to leave it. So he was still alive ¡­ but undoubtedly in extreme agony. Death was the only relief she could give him. But to kill him, she would have to use more of Rahqu¡¯s powers. Rebellion bubbled over in her heart. Never again, never would she wield the fellshade¡¯s powers! Except ¡­ was she being selfish? Cruel? ¡°Stay strong,¡± she urged him. She drifted closer and dropped to her knees beside him. Here in Erebossa she didn¡¯t feel the cold marble. What she felt was the heat of the soldier¡¯s spirit. Glittering gold dust haloed him. The motes of his hopes, his fears, his dreams, his passions and his grievances swirled about him: he had something to live for. ¡°Shh,¡± she soothed. ¡°Shh.¡± Placing a hand over his heart, she offered him her strength. ¡°Stay strong, and I will get you to the other side.¡± In that moment he perceived her at last. He flung out his ¡°hand¡± and wrapped it around her wrist. Fiercely he clung to her. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Help me!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°Get me back!¡± ¡°Be still. Be still, and I will save you,¡± she insisted. The state of his body meant she must hurry. Could she do this? She focused her will on him, this time to allow the watchman to enter the cosmos again. To ensure he stayed far from the gate seals, Sel¨¤na placed him near the door to the antechamber. Thus, he lay behind the mortals struggling in battle. Choking, gasping for breath, his body seized up. His armor clanged against the marble floor. The racket drew the attention of the Eitanite woman. ¡°Captain Darasha!¡± Sel¨¤na rose to her feet and spun away. The others were rushing forward; she needed to get out of their way. No longer impeded by the fellshades, the mortals quickly deactivated the seals on the floor. Only then did she launch herself at the shield Alia and Narsai had placed over the entry to the antechamber, banishing it utterly. ¡°Look!¡± Narsai pointed to the now unprotected opening to the antechamber. In the blink of an eye the group formed a phalanx, this time arrayed against whatever might come at them from the antechamber. A good a time as any to reveal herself, Sel¨¤na decided. And thus she, too, entered the cosmos. Immediately she set the staff at her feet, so her hands were free. Gasps of shock and exclamations of outrage greeted her. ¡°I come in peace,¡± she said. The Eitanite woman gave a start, but Alia held her back. Fast as lightning, Alia whipped out her weapon. The tube of dragon ivory ornamented in gold didn¡¯t waver in her hand; showing no hint of her fatigue or strain. ¡°What have you done with Sheridan and Bessa?¡± Alia demanded. Sheridan must be the Lyrcanian man, Sel¨¤na guessed. If so, she would be telling the truth in her reply. ¡°They¡¯re safe. In Aletheia¡¯s Fane. Optima Philomelos let me go, after I drank from the Well.¡± The Eitanite¡¯s peacock-green eyes flashed. ¡°I don¡¯t believe she would just let you go. What did you do to her?¡± Her gaze fastened on Sel¨¤na¡¯s face, and Sel¨¤na flinched, remembering suddenly the Siluran¡¯s assault on her. If she told the truth¡ªif she told them Bessa struck her first¡ªeveryone would assume Sel¨¤na had been the aggressor, and might attack her on the spot. Sel¨¤na deliberately tapped the staff with her foot, calling it to their attention. ¡°I took this from the giant. You know I can walk into Erebossa, and I used that power to save you all. The fellshades inside the gate gave me back Darasha when I asked. I come in peace, I tell you. I give you my word. For what that is worth, and I know it is not much to you.¡± Shamefaced, she hung her head. No one spoke. Only the sound of Darasha¡¯s labored breathing echoed against the walls. Despite his agony he still fought to live. More than likely, he would die. But at least he could die peacefully, surrounded by his companions rather than fellshades and monsters. The stench of brimstone, blood, and viscera forced her to clamp her hands over her mouth and nose. But it wasn¡¯t enough, and Sel¨¤na had to struggle to keep from retching. Shame overrode her disgust, heating the back of her neck and her cheeks. As Zephyra she had been wholly indifferent to whether or not Artostes slew the people in the citadel. They were allied with Rahqu, and her only focus then was on her own pain of betrayal. It had not crossed Zephyra¡¯s¡ªher¡ªmind to consider that someone might have to clean up Artostes¡¯ mess. ¡°I am sorry,¡± she said quietly. She held out her hands, for the seer to take. ¡°That¡¯s the staff,¡± one of the Salamandra said. A blue adamant hung from his spikes. ¡°It vanished in the battle, as if someone had snatched it away.¡± Alia slowly lowered her weapon. ¡°Restrain her. We¡¯ll take her with us.¡±
Bessa paced back and forth in front of the Well. Edana lived. She lived. Bessa¡¯s heart did somersaults as she tried to absorb that fact. Edana was alive. The Handmaiden¡ªSel¨¤na¡ªhad gotten there in time. And she had stayed true to her word. Apparently. What passed in Erebossa, passed unseen in the waters of the Well. However, they could see that something had overcome the lion giant. As well, its battle staff lay at Sel¨¤na¡¯s feet when she shifted back into Thuraia. ¡°Maybe she will help us after all,¡± Sheridan muttered. Bessa glanced sharply at him. Seemingly ages ago, during their travel to Elamis, Edana confided her doubts about Sel¨¤na¡¯s allegiances. Seeing Sel¨¤na wearing a robe bearing embroideries of poisonous flowers had brought all those doubts to the fore. But now things were different. First, Sel¨¤na remembered her family. She remembered Lady Nensela. Second, she openly mourned for her true father. ¡°She¡¯s human again,¡± Bessa said. ¡°Now she knows who she is. That must matter.¡± ¡°Perhaps. But she used a bel nakri¡¯s power as well,¡± Sheridan pointed out. The reminder stopped her cold. The lore keepers always maintained one could not use a power of a god without calling upon that god, and acting in the god¡¯s name. Giving allegiance to the gods meant taking on their nature and abilities. It was the same with fellshades. How could Sel¨¤na use Rahqu¡¯s power if she didn¡¯t believe in Rahqu? If she was not loyal to the abyssal, she could not use her power, surely? Reluctantly she met his eyes, and read her own thoughts there. ¡°The dryad Nalini said she had to be turned back to her purpose,¡± Bessa said carefully. ¡°Her holiness said Sel¨¤na had to be turned back to the Restorer. No one can do magic if they don¡¯t have the ability in the first place. My grandfather was a Restorite, but I can¡¯t heal. While I can brew medicines, I can¡¯t take away your disease or injuries because I don¡¯t have the Gift. Sel¨¤na must have it, though.¡± Sheridan made no reply, only stroked his beard while gazing at nothing in particular. From the edge of the spring, Bessa studied the unfolding events on display in the crystalline waters. To her relief, Edana and the others were emerging from the citadel. In due time the beast master summoned their flying mounts. Then, finally, finally, Edana and the others began flying back, toward the temple. Heart pounding, Bessa hurried out to the courtyard. The gryphons and dragons kicked up quite a wind. Grit and dust flew up, blinding everyone who didn¡¯t cover their eyes in time. Bessa covered her face and waited until her clothes stopped flapping and her hair stopped flying before she dared to look up. ¡°Bessa.¡± Edana practically flew at her. She crushed Bessa in a strong hug, knocking her off balance so that she staggered. ¡°You live,¡± Edana began. ¡°I thought¡ªwhen I saw Sel¨¤na, I thought she¡ª¡± ¡°Hmm, yes. Wait, let go before I fall,¡± Bessa protested. Edana acquiesced, only for Bessa to throw her arms around her in a more balanced hug. They both remained upright as Bessa continued, ¡°I gave her Aletheia¡¯s water. Now she remembers Lady Nensela. Now she knows who she is.¡± ¡°I am glad, for Lady Nensela¡¯s sake,¡± Edana said. She let out a profound exhale as she sagged against Bessa¡¯s shoulder. No more would they speak, for just then the others approached them. Using an infantry square formation, Alia and the watchmen had trapped Sel¨¤na in their midst. Once again she wore the special cuffs that bound her to this side of the cosmos. Lowering her voice Bessa turned back to Edana. ¡°Sel¨¤na told us a few things. I think I have an idea of what Rahqu meant for her to do here. We need to talk.¡±
The siege over, the danger past, the watchmen of Elamis escorted her residents to their homes. Only when the reports came back that everyone reached home safely did Alia consent to rest. But first a bath. Her Rasena Valentian companions had already entered the warm bath chamber ahead of her. The water was a little hotter than Alia was used to, and she wondered if she should attribute the excess warmth to the Fire Ladies, who clustered in the central part of the pool. Zareen Secundus and Zareen Tertius were fussing over Zareen Prime, who still moved stiffly after her ordeal. At the north end of the pool Bessa and Edana lolled near the edge. Earlier she had seen them sluicing off in the wash room with one of the wonders of the Anshani empire: soap. A marvel of olive oil, herbal essences, and lye, the soap bars fascinated and impressed the Rasena Valentian women. They took to it quickly, ridding themselves of every remnant of battle clinging to their persons. In the bathing pool, tendrils of steam rising up from the hot water brought with it the soothing scent of hyssop, myrtle, and vervain, the oils of which had been added to the water. The scent of the sacred herbs, used for ritual purifications, made Alia sigh in contentment. They were the answer to her most fervent wish when she¡¯d been up to her ankles in gore. Glancing about, she mentally noted which women were in attendance in the pool. Sel¨¤na was not with them. Fravak had thankfully segregated her, cloistering her in a tower. Ostensibly for her own safety. Then his people told the residents of Elamis the threat to their children and themselves had been dealt with, but Alia suspected they would demand Sel¨¤na¡¯s head if they knew she was near. Gira¡¯s parents were already agitating for justice, for his sake. Alia closed her eyes and inhaled softly. By the Huntress, may she be spared having to care about the politics surrounding the lord protector¡¯s death. The evil little man was dead. His followers were dead. Their deaths put her a step closer to defeating Rahqu. Ephemeral matters about who would be the preeminent in a city full of preeminent were not her problem. So long as no one else in the city could take up Amavand¡¯s position as Rahqu¡¯s lackey, that was all that mattered. ¡°I have heard that you have a plan, Optima Philomelos,¡± Zareen Prime said. Alia¡¯s eyes flew open. So did Bessa¡¯s, as she was startled into wakefulness. Water rippled as Bessa sat up, resting her head against the lip of the pool. ¡°More of a glorified idea than a plan,¡± she cautioned. ¡°Sel¨¤na told us¡ªshe told Sheridan and me¡ªwhat was in the box that we caught her with: a path to the Restorer¡¯s tree.¡± More splashes and eddies followed, as the other women suddenly straightened up. ¡°The Restorer?¡± Alia asked. Aunt Nalini had implied Sel¨¤na was a corrupted Restorite, but Alia hadn¡¯t thought Rahqu had intended to go further against the Great Healer than corrupting the naiad springs. ¡°Yes. And that¡¯s the issue. In the nekromanteion Sel¨¤na saved you because she drew on Rahqu¡¯s powers, and Rahqu¡¯s training. But she doesn¡¯t believe. She can¡¯t call on the fellshade¡¯s name with any conviction. At least, I hope she can¡¯t. But I think I understand what she was up to before.¡± Quickly, Bessa outlined her hypothesis: Sel¨¤na had indicated that Rahqu needed to destroy the dryads because they were keeping her from entering Thuraia. Which meant she needed an agent in Thuraia, one who could use her power. Obviously, Sel¨¤na had fulfilled that role. ¡°Rahqu has the power to abolish, but the Restorer can, well, restore. Fix what was broken, heal what was diseased, resurrect what was dead. If Rahqu wanted Sel¨¤na to find the Restorer¡¯s tree, I have to believe she intended to destroy it or corrupt it or something just as awful. To take His power for herself, perhaps.¡± ¡°That is likely,¡± Edana said slowly. Alia agreed. Bessa added, ¡°Sel¨¤na said that Rahqu had given the giants a bit of her power, through the staffs they wield, the ones with the vortex that sucks you in. What do you want to bet she gave Sel¨¤na some of that power, too? Maybe Sel¨¤na doesn¡¯t have to call on Rahqu¡¯s name for everything, but she might have to for some things.¡± Zareen Prime swiped a sprig of fuschia-colored cyclamen floating by. Her lips curved as she twisted the blossom in her long fingers. The she closed her fingers over the flower, and crushed it. ¡°If that is so, Rahqu is already weakened. Wittingly or not, she has given us a way to defeat her.¡± Alia smiled as well. True, Rahqu was barred from Thuraia. However, in a nekromanteion she could breathe a portion of her spirit essence into Zephyra. Just enough of her power to allow Zephyra to carry out mighty works. A major tactical error in their favor, but only if Zephyra¡ªSel¨¤na¡ªcould be trusted. But Zaran Tertius had certified Sel¨¤na¡¯s words, what she had said so far. And so far, she expressed nothing but sorrow, regret, and guilt for her role in aiding in Rahqu. ¡°We need to find the tree,¡± Bessa said. ¡°I doubt Rahqu will just give up on her goal of getting to that tree, just because we¡¯ve taken Sel¨¤na from her. Every time we think we¡¯ve got all of her minions, she turns out to have more.¡± Alia shuddered, suddenly chilled in spite of the bath. The Restorer¡¯s tree ¡­ it could heal Mother¡¯s grove. It could undo whatever Sel¨¤na had done to poison and weaken the dryads. She whistled softly. Now she began to have an idea as to why the Huntress ordered her to spare Sel¨¤na. It also accounted for why the erstwhile Handmaiden of Rahqu could use her powers without interference from the Presence: she was Rahqu¡¯s vessel. What Sel¨¤na had done, she could undo, if she channeled the Restorer¡¯s ways. Alia said, ¡°That tree is our priority. Whether or not the abyssal will send more lackeys after it, we need that tree.¡± ¡°The shahanshah,¡± Zareen Prime said. ¡°He is supposed to be the sole person with access to that tree. He uses the simurghs as his sigil for a reason. It is not borrowed glory, it is a statement of his worthiness.¡± Bessa cocked an eyebrow. ¡°I thought his worthiness was based on being a member of Aletheia¡¯s priesthood?¡± ¡°Yes, Her priesthood is foundational to his legitimacy. But the simurghs rest here, and the shahanshah, and all high kings before him, took it upon himself to be their guardians. Rahqu may send her people after him, if she does not have someone in his palace already.¡± Bessa and Edana exchanged a glance, then turned as one to Alia. ¡°Are you with us?¡± they spoke in unison. In her mind¡¯s eye Alia pictured her aunts. Those she had lost, and those she could yet save. Memories overtook her, of her mother¡¯s perfume, and the softness of her voice when she held Alia close as they charted the stars at night. ¡°There is no power this side of the Abyss or beyond that will keep me away,¡± she said firmly. Bessa gave a feral smile. ¡°To the Restorer¡¯s tree it is.¡± Epilogue Epilogue In Erebossa, time is reckoned differently. Thousands of years flow by as though they were mere days. In Erebossa, locations are reckoned differently. Some dwellings are in more than one place, at the same time and at no time. In some parts of Erebossa, beings of tremendous power and purpose can anchor their abodes to a fixed reality. In one such demesne, the greater fellshade the mortals called ¡°Murena¡± dwelt. Twisted and brutal in form and function, his halls were paneled in the flesh and blood, and mortared with the spirits of those he had broken. The screams of sorcerers who had not repaid their debts to him before they died rang out without ceasing. Unnatural creatures scuttled and skulked. Creatures native to his abode and bound to him, and creatures who in days of old wore the shapes of men. They could go anywhere they wished, so long as they did not wish to leave. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Before him they fled, trying in vain to hide from his sight. But in Murena¡¯s abode, no hiding place would avail them, nor any refuge to escape his rage or his boredom. He did not slither forth as he used to, and that gave his prisoners and slaves some measure of respite. A new prisoner occupied his time. This one never screamed. Indeed, this one was bound in a singular fashion: in spirit, by the hand of Murena himself. Fulfillment of his plans obliged him to remain on guard, awaiting signs of certain conditions and consequences on Thuraia. The hour had come; however. And now it came to pass, that Murena had turned his attention from his prisoner. His entire being was fixed elsewhere, no longer on the purpose that had bound him just as much as he had bound his prisoner. His aid was needed, and he turned his baleful gaze to a new task. And so it was that in that moment, in his dungeon, Nensela Sideris opened her eyes. Chapter 1: Awakenings Chapter I Awakenings In which Nensela is in Murena¡¯s lair It has come. Oh by the Seeker! Sweet death would be a mercy. Nensela regretted the very moment she had opened her eyes. What they rested upon, she could not unsee. Memories of the grotesqueries she beheld would haunt her dreams for as long as she lived. However long that would be. She did not dare close her eyes. Sounds came to her. Whispers. Screeches. Screams. And a wet, horrible shambling that grew louder with every beat of her heart. Something was below her. Something hard. Something of the material world, then? Or a construct of Murena¡¯s will? Could anything exist in his demesne if he did not wish it to? Nensela sat up. She felt no pain. She felt little of anything, except terror, and that was sufficient. For so long she successfully evaded him. For so long he¡¯d stalked her. Only one chance had availed itself to her, the one opportunity to appear before Sel¨¤na. Had she used it well? I did the Seeker¡¯s bidding, she reminded herself, and banished her doubts. Here and now of all places, doubt would not serve. By the Seeker¡¯s command she carried out her orders. And in doing so, exposed herself to Murena. The solstice favored him as well as her, and he captured her with ridiculous ease. Resistance had not been within her power. Was it he who approached? Nensela looked down. Still wearing the violet gown she put on, lo, how many days ago? A silken battle dress, or so it would serve for her now. At least this ethereal version did not bear the blood stains she inflicted upon the version she wore in the temporal realm, when Archelaos had confronted her. The stains of her own heart¡¯s blood. Sandals, laced up to her mid-calf, encased her feet. They, too, were as she willed. No part of this infernal place should touch her, not if she could help it. She stood, drawing herself up to her full height. Defiant, she crossed her arms and raised her chin. The source of the shambling came into view. Mouth. The dominant feature of the creature, obscuring its body. Mouth and fangs, with small eyes peering out of a red mass the shape of which she could not decipher. ¡°You awaken,¡± the mouth said. ¡°What moved you?¡± Lips. The creature possessed lips, which never came together. The bottom lip flapped and flopped against the oily floor, but never once came in kissing distance of its top half. Nensela stared. Drool pooled in the bottom lip of the creature. The creature¡¯s top and lower jaws snapped together, unsettling her. The thing¡¯s top lip rippled slightly, and a small noise came from behind its teeth. By the Seeker ¡ª ¡°No! You will not call upon Her here. Your mistress can See nothing that passes here, lackey!¡± Nensela jumped. The jaws clamped together again. Was it a smile? Was this thing smiling? It read her mind. How¡ª ¡°You do not recognize me, do you? You¡¯ve seen me before. Allow me to reintroduce myself.¡± Light flashed. The red mass vanished, and in its place¡ª ¡°Archelaos,¡± Nensela said. Fine linen served for his tunic, of a quality worthy of his role as governor of a Rasena Valentian province. A role he once served in his human form for some dark purpose of his own. He bowed mockingly. ¡°Your Highness.¡± He straightened up and smiled at her. A mouthful of crooked yellow fangs gleamed at her. Archelaos leaned against the doorway and crossed one leg in front of the other. ¡°Did you think yourself clever, lackey? Did you think you were escaping possession when you drove that arrow into your heart?¡± Nensela made no answer. What was the point? He could read her mind. ¡°I can,¡± Archelaos confirmed. ¡°You¡¯re in my realm, Highness. You¡¯re nothing here. Before, your status was best lapdog. Here you¡¯d be lucky if we turned you into a snail.¡± ¡°But you won¡¯t,¡± Nensela said mildly. Archelaos glared at her. They always gave the game away, she found. Unsavory humans behaved predictably in certain moments. Particularly those moments when they believed they had triumphed over her. They would utter long-rehearsed prattle, telling her a great deal of themselves in the process. Were infernal Erebossi any different? Here now was Archelaos¡ªshe met his gaze¡ªhere he was gloating, but the very fact that she was here was an indication in and of itself. The war was not yet won. Not by Murena. Not by their queen. ?And nor will you win, Archelaos,? Nensela declared. Archelaos advanced. Unfazed, she stood her ground. ¡°Strategy is not your gift,¡± she insisted. ¡°You have miscalculated in bringing me here.¡± Archelaos approached slowly, until he stood within arm¡¯s reach of her. Swiftly, and subtly, his hands rippled. Then suddenly he sported sickle-shaped claws. So quickly did he raise his hands she only saw a black blur before something hard and sharp came down upon her shoulders. Claws. Long and black, his claws curved over her shoulders. Surprisingly, his touch was gentle; he would not have broken her skin or slit her dress if they were on Thuraia. Yet the claws could have sheared her head from her neck had he swiped higher. But she was not in her body. There was nothing he could do to her physically. ¡°You think that matters?¡± Archelaos purred. ¡°Tell me, lackey, do you truly not know that in this realm I could extinguish you utterly? Do you not know, lackey, I can sever your soul from your body?¡± ¡°My soul does not belong to you,¡± Nensela pointed out. Murena could only hold her in his demesne because her body lived. If she were dead, he could no longer hold her soul, for she belonged to the Seeker. ?True. Remember that.? Nensela froze. The voice was not her own. Nor did it belong to Archelaos. But she had heard it before. Archelaos froze. His eyes grew small, and at a blink his pupils became elliptical, and the whites turned a sickly yellow. ¡°Who interferes?¡± he demanded. Like a great and savage cat he retracted his claws and reared back, his shape melting slightly before he vanished in a puff of smoke and brimstone. Nensela stood motionless, contemplating the voice. The same voice once warned her of Archelaos. Warned her she would meet him. Warned her she must die rather than fall into his hands. Thus, she obeyed. Yet here she was, literally in his hands, albeit in Murena¡¯s lair. ?Yes. Murena¡¯s lair. Archelaos has no authority here. He cannot hold you.? ?With whom do I speak?? Nensela demanded. The voice was as a whipcrack. ?The one who will free you. Follow my instructions, Nensela.? Wherever the voice would lead her, whatever the intellect behind the voice intended, nothing could be worse than remaining in the lair of Murena, within reach of Archelaos. ?Touch nothing. Step out of this room. No one shall impede you.? Nensela ventured forward. The screams echoing in the distance slowed her steps. Whatever caused those screams couldn¡¯t touch her, because she yet lived. This much she knew. The voice ¡­ could she trust that voice? ¡°Relentless One, hear your servant, I beseech you,¡± Nensela whispered. The Presence couldn¡¯t be interdicting the gods from here, could it? Not from this side of Erebossa, surely? From here nothing would stand between her and the Seeker? Unless¡­could the Seeker hear her from Murena¡¯s lair? ?Follow me, if you want to hear Her voice. Follow me, Nensela.? What she beheld in the corridor made her recoil. Revulsion made her gorge rise, and she reflexively slammed her eyes shut. But even with her eyes closed the horror burned itself into her vision. Only the certainty that screaming would bring worse upon her kept her silent. ¡°One,¡± she whispered. ¡°Two. Three.¡± Slowly she opened her eyes again. Paneled in flesh and blood, the walls pulsed in rhythm to an unseen heartbeat. Each pulse revealed that which mortared the patchwork of flesh on the walls: the spirits of the once-living. Ugh. Not for a brief time must she look upon this grotesquerie; the corridor was long, bespeaking the age upon age of Murena¡¯s dealings with humans. If only she could shut out the screaming. On cue, as if taunting her, the screams grew louder. So loud that she drew back when she recognized one of them. A familiar rough voice, speaking in Adamantean. Icy horror bloomed within her. ¡°Gallo?¡± she said aloud. The leader of the Kyanopolis division of the Red Daggers, a sorcerer allied with Murena. Out of rote duty she had revealed her prophecy to him: if he abducted Edana, he would die. And it was so. ¡°You!¡± he screamed, the tenor of his voice changing from agony to recognition. ¡°You! You ruined everything.¡± Inwardly, Nensela marveled, though she remained silent. In life, did she not warn this man the Destroyer would see to him? Never did she expect to encounter anyone who had failed to heed her warnings from this side of Erebossa. Blessed Seeker, how many more might she meet? While Gallo deserved his end, Nensela considered others who did not listen to her messages. Others it would grieve her to meet in such a place as Murena¡¯s dungeons. Imagining the more misguided individuals found repentance, and a better fate in Erebossa, kept her hopeful when she might have otherwise quit in despair during her missions. ?Forward,? the voice said sternly. ?This man is damned beyond your aiding him, even if you wanted to aid him. Murena will return soon. Do not be here when he does. Straight down, Nensela. Straight down this corridor.? Nensela launched herself forward, imagining herself as a gazelle with the requisite speed. Things peered at her, from chambers to her left and right. Determined, she avoided looking, avoided taking notice of anything not directly in front of her. She ran and ran. With each step the walls seemed to recede from her. ?An illusion. Trust it not.? Nensela hurled herself forward. She screamed, feeling herself falling, falling, falling¡­ And then suddenly she was no longer falling. Her knees locked as she landed, in the midst of a room of many doors. Some stood open, revealing a starry void or a roiling sea. The rest were all closed, with no handle or means to open them. Was this how Murena¡ª? ?Do not think of him! Especially not here.? ?You gratify me with your warning,? Nensela replied. Instinct warned her to show deference to the mysterious voice. When she first sensed Halie trapped in Gallo¡¯s fortress, her keenly honed senses told her she was speaking to someone not human. Now she sensed the same of the Voice¡¯s owner. Neither malice nor evil did she detect in its aspect. But here in¡ªhere in this place she would not take anything for granted. She turned, surveying the room carefully. Doors surrounded her, enclosing the room entirely. Going back the way she came was not an option, as she did not know which of the doors she¡¯d come through. ?Are these doors safe to touch? Will I be compelled to enter the one I open?? Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ?Your Sendings require a powerful memory. Think of one, with a place you visit even as you dream.? Nensela arched an eyebrow. The voice read her skepticism, and replied, ?Call your sanctuary into existence, here in Erebossa. You have the power to do this. Accept it.? Did she? Fascinating. This claim she would put to the test. Choosing a door at random, she fixed her attention upon it. At once it flew open. Before her arose marble stairs, flanked by either a golden sphinx or a silver phoenix. On every fifth step stood a gold-plated censor that brought the scents of nasturtium and violets and galbanum wafting into the place where she now stood. At the top of the stairs stood two twisted columns. Yards of cloth-of-silver hung between the columns. Subtle star patterns woven into the curtains shimmered as an unseen breeze fluttered them. Occasionally, the curtains lifted and shifted, yielding glimpses of the splendor beyond. ?Hurry,? the Voice urged. The marble felt solid beneath her foot as Nensela probed it gingerly with one toe. She took another step, committing herself. As soon as she reached the second step, the door slammed behind her with a resounding bang. Nensela didn¡¯t look back. Late afternoon sunlight shone down on her, warming her skin and glinting off the silver curtains. Giddiness made her hurry up the steps, eager to see how much of her memory she made manifest in this strange place: The Seeker¡¯s temple. In the temple of the Seeker she spent the first fifty years of her life. This was where her parents brought her after the Seeker sent her a prophecy for the first time. In these halls the lorekeepers trained her in knowledge of the Seeker and Her ways. Again and again she returned to this temple over the course of her long life, seeking at times guidance or refuge. She knew every corner, every shadow, every nook. When she did finally reach the top, she gently grabbed hold of one of the curtains and peered inside. A marble statue of the Seeker awaited her at the end of a long portico. Flanking the goddess at Her feet were the peacocks¡ªHer familiars. In Her right hand the Seeker held the Staff of the Radiant Eye, for the Ta-Setians were so ancient they still recalled the days when She carried the staff, in the time before She set the Eye amongst the stars. Everything looked as it should. Everything looked as she remembered. Nensela approached the altar in the center of the portico. From a bowl of flowers she took a measure of spikenard and myrrh and nasturtium. She laid them carefully atop the dragon ivory surface, and with flint and stone she set them ablaze. The Voice spoke to her once more. ?This, Nensela, is your abode. This place alone is your redoubt. Remain here you must, until I return.? She jumped, whirling around. He¡ªwas it a he? Yes. He sounded as if he were right behind her. She was alone. If only she could breathe! After so long, so very long, her breathing exercises had become akin to a walking stick, a support she needed. But¡­why complain? Whoever he was, her unknown benefactor had helped her. By his own will, for his own reasons, he set her free from a ghastly prison and its abominable warden. Gratitude, she owed him, not suspicion. She strode down the colonnade, to a room she knew would be at the opposite end. The burnished silver doors opened before she reached them. Inside, the white marble walls of the oraculum were shot through with lapis colored veins. The crystalline waters in the pool in the center sparkled as any of the waters in Aletheia¡¯s temples. ¡°Elamis. I must know what passes there.¡± Nensela did not have to use the gears and gadgets of the Unseeing. She was a seer, and as such she could use any mirrored surface to communicate. However, she was not a scryer, and Seeing the present was not within her power. In ordinary times. ¡°Sorcha, the EverBright, ally of the Seeker, hear the plea of Her servant, Nensela, who calls upon You now. Allow me to see what happens in Elamis.¡± The waters frothed and rippled. Shapes and shadows appeared, then resolved to fluffy clouds that became a startling blue and white marble. Gigantic green and brown masses appeared. Nensela jumped back. Were these the places of the world? One of them hurtled up, up, until she suddenly saw mountains in sharp relief. It was as if she saw everything through the eyes of an eagle swooping down to catch her prey. She lurched forward, pinwheeling her arms before catching her balance again: a city was rushing toward her. Nensela straightened. Here, at last, was Elamis. Its spires, domes, and grand citadel announced its identity to her. She remembered it of old, when it was but a stop on a journey, a shelter from the desert wind. Here, also, was Sel¨¤na. In this furnace the bel nakri and her wicked servants stripped and melted down Sel¨¤na¡¯s sweet innocence, reforging her anew as something twisted and horrendous. Heartbreak chilled Nensela, deep in her spirit. The evil Sel¨¤na had wrought marked her out in a special way, for special punishment. The little girl who once skipped gaily beside her on her hillside walks, who got into mischief with her little dog, who needed to sleep with a glowlight at night because she feared the dark ¡­ that girl needed intercession. But she lived in the same body as the one who desecrated the daughters of the Huntress, and for her what redemption was possible? ¡°I will not forsake you, daughter,¡± Nensela vowed. Folding her arms, she gathered her strength about her. Murena could not interfere with her. Nor could the Interceptor, or the so-called queen of the shadow court. ¡°Relentless One, hear my vow: all that is in my power to aid my daughter, I will do. All that is in my power to aid my friends, I will do. I will deliver Your enemies into their hands. This I swear.¡±
Bessa slept for hours, though not entirely with peace. Her dreams twisted, evolving one into another with a fearful logic, dreams she could not recall when she awakened with a start. They had a goal. And six months to reach it. Six months to figure out where the Atta¡¯u would appear. Six months to stop Rahqu. Six months to turn Sel¨¤na into the Restorer¡¯s servant, as diligently as she had been Rahqu¡¯s. The precinct of Aletheia¡¯s Fane included a tower that housed the priests; the high priest gave Bessa and her friends shelter there. An honor, he said, in recognition of the role she and her friends had played in saving the fane and the city. Bessa stared at the ceiling, grey now in the afternoon light filtering in through gauzy curtains. Her bed was still toasty, and the pillows carried the faint scent of wildflowers. Fires blazed in three braziers set at intervals in the large room, tended to by a slave who had come and gone while she¡¯d dreamt. Safe and secure. That was the main point of remaining in the temple¡ªthe other reason, of course, was that Sel¨¤na was imprisoned in the temple. Although, the high priest seemed willing to leave the girl in her hands. Bessa looked to her left. Edana lay curled up on her own bed, her eyelids flickering. Across from them, Alia slept on her stomach. The women breathed softly, and other than the snap and crackle of the logs in the braziers the room was quiet. She sat up, and for the first time took in the appearance of the room. For what she and her companions had done in saving the city, the temple keepers honored them with a beautifully appointed room. Soft, luxuriant rugs of cerulean, with intricate patterns woven through in cream, carpeted the floor. Anshani rugs, she noted, a costly import in Silura. Fleetingly, she wondered if she might acquire such treasures for her future home with Lysander. A beautiful home she might make for him ¡­ if they survived. Thick blue curtains of silken wool, edged in cloth-of-gold, covered the windows. Their weight aided in keeping out the cold, but one pair was parted enough to let a sliver of white shimmersilk peek through. This, then, was the source of what little sunlight filtered into the room. Bessa eased out of her bed and crept to the window. From her grand height four floors up, she saw Sel¨¤na''s tower at her right. On the left, the citadel of the king of Elamis peeked at them through the mists. A shiver went through her. What would the watchmen do with the palace? For certain they would not allow the Star Dragons to secure it, even if the Star Dragons revealed their presence in the city. But were the city¡¯s watchmen up for the job? If the palace needed to be destroyed, would they do so? Every instinct in Bessa¡¯s body told her the palace¡¯s shadow gate may be needed later. Thus, as much as she would like for the grand edifice to come crashing down, it must remain standing. For now. After all, Murena¡¯s keystone belonged to a door not of this world¡­ She looked over to the tower again. Had Sel¨¤na slept? Last night had been grueling enough; none of them made it to bed until four hours past midnight. Bessa tore her gaze from the window. Someone thoughtfully placed sandals beneath her bed, and neatly folded a heavy shawl on the chest at the foot of her bed. The shawl turned out to be long enough to use as a cloak, which she did now for the sake of modesty. Bessa started for the door, then hesitated. She looked at her companions again. Sachets of valerian, spikenard, thyme, and rosemary flowers protruded from beneath their pillows. Some sweet person wanted to help them fight off nightmares. A kindness, for the women had fought a horrific battle, risking their lives and their souls to do so. If no bakhtak dogged their sleep, nor would Bessa. They deserved a rest. She opened and shut the door behind herself as quietly as she could. The halls were not so cozy as her room. With every exhale Bessa¡¯s breath showed itself as a puff of white. She wrapped the shawl more tightly about herself so that only her feet knew the cold now. If only she wore her socks¡ªbut they were tucked away at her room in the inn, where they would do her no good whatsoever right now. Bessa hurried down the hall. She passed a few guards on her way to the tower, but they recognized her immediately and made no attempt to impede her. The one guarding Sel¨¤na''s door let her in without comment. Sel¨¤na was already awake when Bessa slipped in. She was curled up, facing the wall, her eyes open but unblinking. Though a fire roared in a large bronze brazier, the tower room was quite spacious, with a high enough ceiling to leech the warmth from the room. This left the bedchamber less comfortable than the one Bessa had left. The windows were arranged in a semi-circle in the curving wall of the turret. However, only a thin ray of sunlight lanced across the gloom, because thick curtains covered the windows. Sel¨¤na''s furnishings were plain, serviceable. The temple keepers had not mistreated her, but they clearly weren¡¯t going out of their way for her, either. Motionless, Sel¨¤na looked at Bessa from the corner of her eye. Bessa paused. Where to start? ¡°I¡¯m sorry I must disturb you so early.¡± ¡°You know my mother,¡± Sel¨¤na said. Bessa blinked. Oh, of course, Sel¨¤na was Lady Nensela¡¯s daughter. Now it dawned on her that for Sel¨¤na, she was only a day removed from the shipwreck that killed her father and separated her from her mother. ¡°I do,¡± she answered. Sel¨¤na sat up. The covers rustled as she drew her knees up to her chest and clasped her arms about herself. ¡°Why didn¡¯t she come with you?¡± Again Bessa hesitated. Intense longing laced Sel¨¤na''s voice, sending a pang of regret through Bessa. With a hard swallow she steeled herself. ¡°Because she¡¯s in the Restorer¡¯s hands now. During a battle an eidolon cornered us. Cornered her, seeking to possess her, I believe. But she fought back.¡± She studied Sel¨¤na''s face. The girl looked so guarded, in the way of one bracing herself for bad news. Lowering her voice, Bessa continued, ¡°She stabbed herself with her own arrow. A poison arrow, which made her fall into a deep sleep. Only the gods know if she will awaken, but I pray everyday for them to grant us her company and counsel again.¡± Sel¨¤na''s hand flew to her mouth. She stared intently at a spot on her blanket. Aborting her approach before she took even three steps, Bessa reconsidered her next move. The shadows the feeble light cast in the room were long, but dull. Nothing was hidden, just darkened, and discernible to those who chose to see. So may it be with Rahqu¡¯s plans. ¡°Your mother told us to find you. She said you would save us all. I wonder if she didn¡¯t mean to include herself as well.¡± Haltingly, Bessa told her everything she could of Lady Nensela, of the seer¡¯s visions and her attempts to ascertain what the giants were doing and whom they were working for. Next she spoke of Edana, and emphasized the grief and sorrow that bound her and the seer together. ¡°Your mother misses you,¡± Bessa said gently. Tears coursed down Sel¨¤na''s cheeks. She roughly wiped them away and looked up at Bessa. When she spoke next, her voice rang with bitterness. ¡°So my mother may be one more thing Rahqu has taken from me.¡± Instinct told Bessa the poor girl needed a hug, but she dared not approach her. The girl¡¯s body language radiated a simple message: Stay away from me. Instead, Bessa strode to the brazier and rubbed her hands over the fire. ¡°Your mother isn¡¯t dead,¡± Bessa said sharply. ¡°Do not speak of her as being taken, because she¡¯s not. When we were in the home of another eidolon, Lady Nensela admitted to me that she knew the agents of Erebossa were trying to trap her. That¡¯s what they said over here, when we couldn¡¯t mess up their plans. The fellshade she took poison to escape from? Even he complained about needing to plan around her. Your mother is far too wise to let herself be taken so easily.¡± Sel¨¤na sighed, and collapsed back against her pillows. ¡°Rahqu wanted my mother in particular. When he was dying, Amavand showed me his memories. In one of them, Artostes said Rahqu was seeking to destroy my mother. Because Mama was too formidable a bane for them.¡± Bessa nodded to herself; the statement confirmed what she already suspected. ¡°This war we¡¯re fighting began before you and I were born, before your mother was born. The Aeternity War. Did you know your mother is so old she used different stars to navigate than we do now? If she was always as she is now, I can believe she was thwarting their plans long before this skirmish.¡± Now she turned away from the fire to look Sel¨¤na head on. However, the girl didn¡¯t meet her gaze, which was fixed at an empty spot on her blanket. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Bessa said. Sel¨¤na''s head jerked up. The confusion on her face served as Bessa¡¯s invitation to continue. ¡°Sorry for striking you. The truth is, I would have slain you if Sheridan hadn¡¯t been there to stop me. Poor payment to Lady Nensela for her hospitality is only a small reason I feel ashamed. Fury got the better of me, and I would have shed the blood of an innocent. More, I would have frustrated all hope of winning this battle, and in doing so brought about the destruction of this world and everyone I care about. I am profoundly sorry.¡± Sel¨¤na flung the covers off and slid off her bed, revealing the simple woolen shift she slept in, nearly a twin to Bessa¡¯s. The garment cascaded to her ankles as she stood up. ¡°I don¡¯t need your apologies,¡± Sel¨¤na said as she shoved her feet into sandals. ¡°If you knew the extent of Zephyra¡¯s evil, all that would have checked your hand is that she deserved a slower death.¡± She began pacing, her steps soft against the fur rugs insulating the floor. Unshed tears made her eyes shimmer, but she quickly looked down, as if to hide them. Sel¨¤na continued, ¡°But I almost pity her. Do you know how it shocked her, the discovery that her father was not her father? And then to watch Amavand¡¯s memories of Artostes call up a storm that killed my father? How she felt watching the soul wraiths carry the spirit of the man she once believed to be her father? The man for whose sake she committed abominable acts? And when she thought herself at the end of terrible revelations, an army of bloodthirsty monsters saluted her, and treated her as if she were their queen. In that moment she learned she was evil.¡± ¡°In a sense the nakri and fellshades were right to treat you¡ªZephyra¡ªas a queen,¡± Bessa ventured. ¡°We think Rahqu gave you some part of her power.¡± Sel¨¤na''s eyes flashed, a spark extinguished in an instant as her face became a mask again. ¡°How astute, as my mother would say. Rahqu gave Zephyra her power. Making Zephyra her vessel was how she sidestepped her inability to enter Thuraia directly. I was not supposed to use the ichor¡ªher blood¡ªbecause having her power and her blood would spring the trap. The trap set by either the gods or the dryads, I am not sure. I did not know until recently that there was a trap at all.¡± She clasped her elbows, exposing the electrum bracers inscribed in silver with the spells that bound her to the world. Spells that kept her from using her death powers. The Eitanim had exchanged it for the handcuffs she had previously worn. ¡°If there¡¯s a way to expel her power, I would do it,¡± Sel¨¤na added. ¡°I have never heard of such. Which means nothing, because I¡¯m not a lorekeeper. But what if you could re-purpose her power?¡± ¡°No. You don¡¯t know what I am capable of. Vile, evil powers are all I have, and there is no turning them to good. There is no redeeming that power. If I died, Rahqu would be defeated. While I live she will send her servants after me, to reclaim me. Reclaim her power.¡± A chill rippled through Bessa as Sel¨¤na''s words sank in. She hadn¡¯t considered Rahqu would seek revenge, or to recapture her precious handmaiden. What means would she use? More infernal-possessed humans, like Escamilla? Fell beasts, like the controlled jackals that attacked her and Edana? Bessa clenched her jaw. What use was fear to her? Didn¡¯t she have an army of her own? Blooded and battle-tested, and worthy of the faith she put in them? Letting her fears ride her now would be a foolish waste of time, and would accomplish nothing. Time to collect another head, Edana once said to her. ¡°Coming after you would be logical,¡± Bessa said finally. ¡°But you¡¯re assuming your death won¡¯t accomplish the same objective. I was warned that one should not kill an eidolon. It unleashes the abyssal inside the host. How do you know that when you die, the power of Rahqu won¡¯t return to her? Or enter another willing vessel?¡± Sel¨¤na''s sharp gasp told Bessa her arrow struck home. The young woman spun on her heel and strode over to the window. She flung open one of the curtains, with perhaps more violence than necessary. Sunlight streamed in, banishing the oppressive shadows. With sunlight came warmth, lessening Bessa¡¯s shivers. Cold or warm, Sel¨¤na appeared impervious to her surroundings. Every part of her attention fastened on what she saw outside her window. If she wished, she had an excellent vantage point to view the citadel. Don¡¯t look back. Bessa held her tongue. ¡°Why?¡± Sel¨¤na demanded. Still looking straight ahead, avoiding Bessa''s gaze ¡°Why do you want to use this power? Why do you think you can control it? Why do you think I should use it? I¡¯m tainted. Maybe not as bad as I would be if I had drank her ichor, but I am her vessel all the same.¡± ¡°You were supposed to be a Restorite. You have innate powers. Or if you didn¡¯t before, you do now. That is the power I want you to access: The Restorer is Rahqu¡¯s enemy. Why else would she have wanted you to go to the haoma? So you could taint it like the naiads¡¯ springs were tainted, and the dryads¡¯ groves. The Presence has cut off all the sorcerers who could help. But you can still use your powers. And if you changed your allegiance to the Restorer, you can undo what you did.¡± Sel¨¤na''s features softened. She unclenched her arms and studied her cuffs. ¡°What do you want me to do?¡± Chapter 2: Revelations Chapter II Revelations In which a priest gives evil tidings ¡°Is that even possible?¡± Edana asked, turning from the persimmon tree to stare at Bessa. In the winter garden of Aletheia¡¯s temple they awaited the Restorites. Going to the Restorer¡¯s temple was not an option; Bessa rejected the idea the moment it came to her. Yet all the same, Sel¨¤na should be with them when they spoke to the priests. However¡ªBessa and her friends were now famous in the city¡­and Sel¨¤na was infamous. Sel¨¤na would be mobbed. Ripped limb from limb, or met with any punishment a vengeful sorcerer would deal out. Hard would be the hearts of those whose children were threatened by the monsters allied with Zephyra; a threat which brooked no forgiveness. But the walls of the temple were sacrosanct, and superstition ensured even the impious honored the sanctuary of a temple. The Elamisi were pious. Sel¨¤na should be safe. For now. A basket hung from Edana¡¯s arm. After breakfast she asked of the priests permission to glean from the garden. Provisions, she said, for their journey. Fravak, the high priest, immediately granted them the run of the garden, and promised them access to the larder besides. This prompted all of them to begin preparations. The task gave them something to hold the tension at bay, if nothing else. Silent and attentive, Alia listened to Bessa¡¯s plan as she filled her own basket with shallots, pomegranates, and carrots. Her expression gave nothing away, though Bessa studied her for signs of her reaction. Of all of them, Alia would be most justified to slay Sel¨¤na where she stood. But Alia made no move to come near the young woman, leaving Sel¨¤na untroubled as she drew water from the well. The well held plain drinking water, not the water of the sacred spring that had restored Sel¨¤na to her memories¡­and her humanity. Sel¨¤na¡¯s hands were steady as she drew the bucket up from the deep. She never met anyone¡¯s eyes. Instead she focused intently on whatever task she was assigned, and seemed careful to stay out of everyone¡¯s way. Bessa¡¯s gaze now alighted on Edana. How could this work? Edana was predisposed to be gentle with Sel¨¤na, for Edana loved Sel¨¤na¡¯s mother, a friend and benefactor who had assuaged Edana¡¯s grief over the loss of her own family. But for Alia, Sel¨¤na was an enemy who had done monstrous evil against Alia¡¯s own family, the daughters of the goddess Alia served so faithfully. No. That enemy had been Zephyra. Once Zephyra drank from Aletheia¡¯s spring, she and her wickedness perished, allowing Sel¨¤na to be resurrected. Sel¨¤na, who had been only a girl when she¡¯d been twisted to a horrible purpose. Here she was anew, but now obliged to bear the weight of all she had done as Zephyra. How could anyone live with that guilt? Bessa frowned. Six months left to do what must be done. ¡°Let¡¯s not rule out anything,¡± Bessa insisted, addressing Edana. ¡°If it¡¯s not possible to turn Sel¨¤na¡¯s powers, at least your priests have ensured she can¡¯t use them. But you heard what the dryad said. Sel¨¤na must be useful, and there¡¯s no reason to think her powers have nothing to do with why we need her.¡± ¡°Aunt Nalini,¡± Alia said woodenly. She came over to the patch were Bessa was gathering green and white stalks. Leeks, or so Edana named them when she explained they would impart a delicate, sweet onion flavor to soups. Never having seen the strange vegetables before, Bessa took Edana at her word. ¡°Of course; I mean no disrepect. Yes, your aunt. Sel¨¤na has the key to the haoma, and the haoma can cure any evil. What am I missing?¡± Alia paused. For a moment, she looked very young, possibly Bessa¡¯s age. But experience taught Bessa not to trust the appearance of youth in a Ta-Setian. Lady Nensela was thousands of years old, and by her face no one would put her age above twenty-five. That is, if one did not stare directly into her eyes. But where the seer had been remote and reserved, Alia burned with a cold fire that made her terrifying. How long would that fire burn? Long enough to see the stars shift in the firmament? What was it like to have an enemy who had all of eternity to wreak havoc upon the world? At least the gods blessed the mortals with allies who had all of eternity to fight back: Alia exuded a protective nature; the huntress would allow nothing to harm them. ¡°I couldn¡¯t tell you what you¡¯re missing,¡± Alia replied, with no trace of levity or sarcasm. ¡°I am not a Restorite. Do not get too attached to this plan of yours. I do not believe the Erebossan queen would make it so easy.¡± Bessa spread her arms, inadvertently waving the leeks she held in her hand. A dusting of snow fell off the plants, landing near her feet. ¡°Easy? Only now could it be easy! Edana and I personally battled three out of five eidolons and a king of Erebossa to get here. And you had to fight how many lesser infernals to get here? And we all of us had to rid this city of manticores and lamia and rabisu, only for you to face a scorpion man, and a soul thief¡ªwhat is this ¡®easy¡¯ you speak of? I pray to the gods I never know what you would consider difficult.¡± Alia¡¯s wintry smile was so quick Bessa almost missed it. ¡°All that you did, we did, without sacrifice,¡± Alia said. ¡°We were none of us corrupted by Erebossa.¡± Though she neither looked at nor named Sel¨¤na, no one doubted her meaning. ¡°We did no evil on behalf of an infernal. In Lyrcania we have rites of atonement. Do you know them here? Do you know what is required?¡± Bessa froze. Offerings. Sacrifice. Blood. And she herself believed it: some apologies couldn¡¯t be spoken. They must be done. Sel¨¤na at last raised her head. Before she could speak, the heavy oak doors swung open, and Tregarde and Sheridan strode into the garden. In their wake came men wearing the indigo robes of the Restorer¡¯s high priests. Last came violet-robed Narsai, high priest of the Sower. His robes, edged in silver, augmented his regal air. The sight of him pleased Bessa; she had not checked for Narsai once she knew he had survived the battle at the shadow gate. The priest walked stiffly, perhaps not yet recovered from the ordeal of that battle. Quickly, Bessa shoved her leeks into her basket and set it at her feet. She tented her fingers and bowed low, homage to the priests. ¡°Good day to you,¡± Narsai greeted. He gave them all a benign nod. His glance lingered a moment on Sel¨¤na¡¯s bracelets before he turned to Bessa. ¡°You wished to see us?¡± ¡°Yes. Thank you for coming, eminent ones.¡± Succinctly, she explained Lady Nensela¡¯s vision, and the estimated time left to thwart it. After, she spoke of the fight she and Edana had waged against Murena, and Alia¡¯s fight for the dryads. Finally, she told them of Rahqu, and her goal to reach the haoma. True to her expectations, the Restorites reacted with dismay, and Narsai went pale. ¡°What do you need from us?¡± High Priest Javed asked. ¡°We are strangers in your land,¡± Bessa pointed out. ¡°Naturally your high king would not permit us to reach the haoma just because we ask it of him. Assuming we could even enter his presence. Sel¨¤na¡ªwhen she was Zephyra¡ªknew to guard against Edana and Alia and me. The infernal queen must have someone in the king¡¯s court who would warn him against us.¡± Javed¡¯s eyes brightened. ¡°But she would not have thought to look for us, you mean? As Restorites, we have authority over the simurghs, too. We serve their Master. Perhaps we may be able to lend you that authority. We will consider what aid we might give you.¡± Bessa bowed her head. ¡°Thank you.¡± She caught Sel¨¤na¡¯s eye and paused before continuing. How to explain her goal? Carefully, as it turned out. As she finished, the priests turned as one to frankly appraise Sel¨¤na. ¡°Make her one of us?¡± Javed¡¯s tone said it all. Bessa glanced at Alia, her eyes pleading. The huntress would place duty over vengeance, would she not? ¡°Aunt Nalini was a dryad,¡± Alia said patiently. ¡°Her mother, the Eagle Eyed One, gave strict orders. She requires Zeph¡ªSel¨¤na. I wish it were not so, but it is.¡± Bessa watched their faces. The priests bore no allegiance to the Huntress. But undoubtedly they would not think of crossing Her, nor one of Her agents. ¡°Was a dryad? Are the dryads not immortal?¡± Javed asked. His brow furrowed. ¡°They are,¡± Alia replied. ¡°Unless, of course, they are captured and defiled in some unspeakable fashion that makes them long for death.¡± This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Sel¨¤na flinched, and looked away. Javed¡¯s breath caught, and Bessa could not blame him. What Alia spoke of was an outright abomination, and Bessa shuddered to think of the divine punishment due to the one who committed it. But that was Zephyra¡­ ¡°Blessed servants of the Restorer, consider this: the nature of Sel¨¤na¡¯s corruption points to her intended purpose. She has to be a Restorite,¡± Bessa insisted. Javed stalked over to Sel¨¤na. ¡°Did you show any Gift before you were turned? Did you ever heal anything or anyone?¡± Uncowed, Sel¨¤na straightened, drawing herself to her full height under his withering stare. Lady Nensela¡¯s daughter, Bessa reminded herself. ¡°Your eminence, I did not. The Gifted commonly show their gifts while they are children, true enough. But Ta-Setians do not age as you do.¡± ¡°You are not fully Ta-Setian,¡± Javed pointed out, fixing his brown eyes on her hazel ones. ¡°True,¡± she acknowledged with a shrug. ¡°But I will not age the same as you, either. If the Restorer ever blessed me, I have no proof of it at this time. My mother did not look for me to have any affinity for sorcery; it was not common in her family. My father said it never bred true in his family, either. But the only reason I live now is because the Huntress said I must. If there¡¯s a test, I will take it.¡± ¡°The fellshade Rahqu imbued her with power,¡± Bessa reminded them, pressing her point. ¡°Whether or not Sel¨¤na had any before, she has it now. It needs to be turned to your purpose, or else¡ª¡± Abruptly, Javed held up a hand. ¡°You have made your case. What you ask, is no casual request we can grant without care.¡± ¡°But you¡¯ll consider it?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°I will pray over it.¡±
Narsai did not leave with the Restorites. Instead he remained in the garden with the group and assisted them in their gleaning. They stopped at sunset, and Sel¨¤na excused herself then to speak to Fravak, high priest of Aletheia. As soon as she cleared the threshold, Narsai turned to the group. ¡°I must speak with you. Let us go inside. There is a room set aside for us.¡± Narsai led them through a labyrinth of corridors, until they came at last to a hall that terminated in double doors. The doors opened onto a small ¡®contemplation room,¡¯ where devotees of Aletheia cloistered themselves for private meditation. For the sake of privacy its out-of-the-way location hindered anyone intent on eavesdropping. So also did the small window high above, too high for anyone on the grounds outside to listen in. The window let in moonlight and air, and admitted no spies. Flickering candlelight revealed the meal someone had set up for them. Roasted chicken, spiced with silphium, much like the Anshani chicken Lady Nensela served when Bessa first met her. Along with a novelty¡ªquince soup. Fascinated, Bessa eyed it, and privately decided it would be the first dish she would taste. In the meantime, Sheridan served Alia, and Edana served Narsai, each according to the etiquette concerning the priests of their respective gods. Tregarde and Bessa waited until the priests were served, then they moved to serve Sheridan and Edana in turn, for no other reason than simple friendship. They ate in silence, but didn¡¯t linger over the meal. Narsai seemed to sense their restlessness, for he wasted little time with preamble. ¡°I speak to you now in confidence. What I say may be of no comfort to you, but it must be said, and you must choose.¡± ¡°You have our attention, eminent one,¡± Edana answered. ¡°The one you now call Sel¨¤na is restored to knowledge of the truth. This I do believe. I believe the waters of Aletheia worked as they ought. But even so, I do not believe this is all you must do concerning her. She is a vessel, and she does carry the taint of the infernal Erebossi. But she is not beyond redeeming.¡± Edana, who sat to his right, leaned forward now and caught his gaze. ¡°The Scrolls of Truth speak of many people who did evil, and who were only forsaken when they chose to reject the Sower utterly. But in those cases, they knowingly chose their paths. Sel¨¤na¡¯s was forced on her. What can there be for her to do?¡± ¡°Her innocence may be all that saves her. She did not choose then. She must choose now.¡± ¡°Eminent One,¡± Bessa began. ¡°I¡¯ve spoken to Sel¨¤na; there is no question she¡¯s devastated by what happened to her. And by what she did as Zephyra. And you saw her in the garden. Do you truly think she would choose Ra¡ªthe fellshade?¡± Narsai held her gaze. ¡°Oh, my child, the matter is not so simple. This has happened before. Oh, not the giants, I¡¯ve never heard of them before you came. Before the Scouring, when some sorcerers made themselves into vessels, as Sel¨¤na was made. And some, like Sel¨¤na, were forced. But what they all had in common was this: having an infernal Erebossan in them made them one with Erebossa. Less and less were they human. Their thoughts and ways were that of Erebossa, and they did things that only beings of the netherworld can do. Monstrous things. Great things. But the more they did, the more like their ¡®progenitor¡¯ they became.¡± Narsai¡¯s gaze softened, tinged with pity as he faced Bessa. In the courtyard he had listened in silence to her plan, not interjecting even once. To have him look at her as he did now, Bessa knew he lacked faith, and for no idle reason. ¡°The cuffs you gave Sel¨¤na keep her from using the fellshade queen¡¯s powers. Whatever taint is in her won¡¯t be strengthened any more. So surely she is safe from that particular threat,¡± Bessa ventured. ¡°And when the servants of her former mistress come for her?¡± Narsai said softly. From her place opposite Narsai at the end of the table, Alia had observed their exchange with folded arms and narrowed eyes. Now she straightened in her seat and spoke. Candlelight bestowed an eerie beauty upon her, as though she were incarnated with the spirit of the Huntress. ¡°I will slay them,¡± she declared. ¡°And if not me, then an astral. I¡¯ve summoned them before.¡± She turned to Sheridan, who was sitting to her right. ¡°Remember how you asked why we should ever invite an astral into our world? The Huntress guards our world, and She works through us, and we are allowed to call for aid to do what She would have us do. The abyssal queen is as much Her enemy as ours.¡± Narsai¡¯s eyebrows lifted, and his lips curved. ¡°You brought a celestial being into this world? Such a feat places you amongst the paragons of faith. That a celestial came when you asked moves me to have greater faith in this endeavor. Sel¨¤na will be hunted, by beings within this world, and beings without. For so long lies have cocooned her, and it may be that she has no instinct to do what is right, only to do the opposite of what she has always done. Or to fall back on what¡¯s worked before.¡± ¡°Her power. Which you negated,¡± Bessa insistently reminded him. ¡°But not her power to choose to go willingly, as a sacrifice, should it come to that. I have watched Sel¨¤na. She is haunted, and guilt ridden, and I daresay she despises herself. Do you disagree?¡± The firelight in Narsai¡¯s green eyes gave them a mystical aspect, as though he might see beyond human vision. The gaze he turned on her penetrated to her inward heart. Bessa swallowed hard. Memories of her assault on Sel¨¤na came flooding back. Sel¨¤na claimed she understood why Bessa had attacked her, she had also said she deserved far worse than what Bessa gave to her. ¡°She might sacrifice herself,¡± Bessa conceded. ¡°She might think her life is worth so little, that it¡¯s better to die saving us. She might think she deserves eternal torment in the Abyssal Serpent.¡± ¡°Mmm. The Abyssal Serpent is her due ¡­ or rather, Zephyra¡¯s,¡± Alia said. ¡°You are better than I, Narsai: you believe Sel¨¤na is herself again.¡± ¡°If only I did have the virtue you ascribe to me, priestess. But if Zephyra attacked the Sower¡¯s servants the way she attacked the servants of the Huntress and the Restorer, I¡¯m quite certain I would struggle as you have.¡± Alia¡¯s chuckle did not reach her eyes. ¡°Do not let me wiggle out. Keeping my anger and hatred is unworthy of me, and makes me unfit for my task. Well. As you have bound the girl to this world with your power, I will bind her in another way: I will forgive her. It is my priestly duty. And a human one. I will ask for her word that she will not surrender.¡± ¡°Do not make that contract too tight,¡± Narsai warned. ¡°She must not go over to her former mistress; that possibility must be avoided at all costs. But that doesn¡¯t mean her life can be preserved. Do you know what became of the previous vessels?¡± The gaze he turned on Edana was gentle. Yet all the same she gasped, then clamped her hand around her mouth. Bessa¡¯s heart sank further, to the bottom of the Abyss itself, for all she felt. ¡°What? What? Is this something from your Scrolls of Truth?¡± ¡°The Abominations,¡± Edana whispered. ¡°That¡¯s what we called them, isn¡¯t it?¡± Narsai nodded. Edana sat back in her chair, her eyes unseeing. Gently he asked, ¡°Will it be you who does it? You, who seem to love this child?¡± Edana¡¯s lips thinned and her eyes hardened. Memories of their childhood bubbled up in Bessa¡¯s mind. When they were children, Edana¡¯s current expression signaled she had entered a cold, seething rage. However, as a woman Edana remained calm, her palms flat on the table. ¡°Sel¨¤na,¡± Edana said, with every bit of cool deference she could muster, ¡°is the daughter of a good friend, who was kind to me when I needed kindness. Who took me in when I was lost. Who was a mother to me when I lost my mother. And you ask if I will do this?¡± ¡°Should it be one who hates her?¡± Narsai gestured at Alia. Edana bowed her head, her eyelashes fluttering. Tregarde cleared his throat. ¡°Eminent One, for those of us who aren¡¯t conversant in your religion¡­what are the Abominations? I get the feeling that¡¯s one of those red-letter words lorekeepers used to write in scrolls.¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± Narsai agreed. He reached for a jug of wine, and poured a measure into Edana¡¯s cup. He slid the cup closer to her. ¡°Exactly so,¡± he continued. ¡°The events leading up to the Scouring happened over the course of generations. Sorcerers did their best to weaken the boundary between this world and Erebossa. You told me, huntress, of the ichor these new enemies have taken. That is one method. Did you know the ichor does not leave their bodies? It can be, how shall I put it? Passed on.¡± At this they exclaimed, except for Edana, who snatched up her cup of wine and drank it down without stopping. She didn¡¯t look at them, setting down her cup with a slight yet audible thump. Narsai patted her hand, and to Bessa¡¯s surprise, Edana did not flinch. Edana¡¯s breaths were shallow when she finally spoke. ¡°Few who take the ichor can have children. They¡¯re physically tainted, as well as spiritually. But the few who did have children after that taint always begat monstrous beings. Think of the lamia. But those who are only spiritually tainted, people like Sel¨¤na¡ªthey can pass on the taint to human children. Sel¨¤na can pass on the taint to her children. And they to their children. The Scrolls say they are Abominations. And in the Scrolls it says¡ªit says the khrestai, the dryads, and the sea dragons hunted every last one of them. Cleansing them from the world.¡± ¡°My mother mentioned something like that, when she told me of her youth. But neither she nor the Keeper bid me to do a Scouring. Nor did the khrestai counselor bound to my mother¡¯s grove.¡± It was Edana¡¯s turn to laugh mirthlessly. ¡°Oh no? Perhaps they trust that you or one of us will kill Sel¨¤na. I suppose it should be me. Either way I am guilty; it is no virtue for me to sit by and watch one of you do it. I could at least look Lady Nensela in the eye and tell her it was I who took her child from her. Sel¨¤na is doomed either way. I don¡¯t suppose your mother or counselor will be gentle when they kill her?¡± Bessa listened, panic arising in her with every word they said. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. If Sel¨¤na is dedicated to the Restorer, that would cleanse her taint, wouldn¡¯t it? Surely¡ª¡± ¡°There is no precedent,¡± Narsai cut in, without heat. ¡°We cannot say surely. What is sure is that Abominations such as Sel¨¤na are not permitted to exist in our world.¡± Chapter 3: Debate Chapter III Debate In which they must reckon with a heavy burden ¡°Hold on here,¡± Bessa demanded. ¡°Just hold. The Huntress wants Sel¨¤na alive. Would She want this of an abomination?¡± ¡°Well, to be more precise, remember Aunt Nalini said Sel¨¤na is not mine to kill. That the task of killing her does not belong to me. We all interpreted that to mean the Huntress didn¡¯t want Sel¨¤na to die, but that¡¯s not literally what we were told,¡± Alia pointed out, her tone mild. Bessa¡¯s eyes narrowed. On no account could she allow the huntress to feel complacent about the possibility of Sel¨¤na¡¯s death. ¡°If you want to be literal and more precise, your aunt wasn¡¯t talking about Sel¨¤na. She was talking about the Handmaiden. Zephyra. And to be yet more precise, I killed Zephyra when I made her drink from Aletheia¡¯s spring. Zephyra, the Handmaiden, is dead in every way that matters. That may be the outcome the Huntress wanted us to bring about. That may be all She intended regarding Zephyra. We weren¡¯t given any instructions about Sel¨¤na.¡± To her satisfaction Alia inhaled sharply, clearly caught off guard. With her arrow having struck home, Bessa swung her gaze back to Narsai, checking his reaction. Edana¡¯s expression of despair vanished as she, too, fastened her gaze on the priest. ¡°Again, my children, the fact that Sel¨¤na didn¡¯t choose to become a vessel, and never willingly served the demon, may be what saves her. But the spiritual taint within her cannot be ignored. It must be dealt with, and you must factor that into your plans.¡± Blood surged in Bessa¡¯s veins, her heart aflutter as a new plan formed in the back of her mind. She reached over to pat Edana¡¯s hand. ¡°I think you might have already saved Sel¨¤na. Did you bring the thresher?¡± ¡°Yessss,¡± Edana replied, drawing out the word in her bemusement. ¡°But it¡¯s supposed to destroy infernal constructs. The point is for the spirit to be trapped in the thresher.¡± Again Bessa looked to Narsai, who was eyeing them with interest. ¡°I was told an eidolon can be extracted from a body, without killing the person. The eidolons we¡¯ve dealt with so far were all inhabiting bodies that were empty of the original human spirit. That is why the host bodies died, because the fellshades fled once we killed their host. There was no spirit to animate the body. But Sel¨¤na is still in her body. Must the thresher kill her? Or could it extract, and contain the part of the shadow queen that¡¯s in her now?¡± For the first time, Narsai looked amazed. He sat back and gazed at Edana in wonder. ¡°You have a thresher? And you¡¯ve used it?¡± ¡°What¡¯s a thresher?¡± Tregarde asked. ¡°It sounds ominous.¡± ¡°As well it should,¡± Narsai agreed. ¡°My people did not create the threshers for a joyful purpose. In ancient days, we used them to annihilate animachina that hosted evil spirits of Erebossa. It¡¯s never been used against a possessed person. Or against an Abomination, as far as I know. But I will check the lore to be sure.¡± He stared at Edana. ¡°Do you know the rites? I don¡¯t. I thought that knowledge was lost.¡± Edana slumped. ¡°Her Grace, Nensela of Ta-Seti knew the rites. She performed them to help me defeat a fellshade inhabiting an officer in the imperial legion of Rasena Valentis. Unfortunately¡­unfortunately, she is not available for that service again.¡± She told him of Lady Nensela¡¯s current fate, and how the seer had come to impose it upon herself. ¡°Nensela of Ta-Seti? She who stood with Ishmerai in the Valley of the Dead? Her?¡± Narsai¡¯s mouth fell open. ¡°Very well. That settles it.¡± He rose, and the others stood in unison, including Alia. ¡°I have given you what wise counsel I have, but I will not let that be the end of it. I will check the lore. For now, let us proceed in good faith, that the gods do wish for Sel¨¤na to play some role, perhaps the very one you suspect for her, Bessa Philomelos. So let us move quickly. Time is against us.¡± ¡°But the gods are not,¡± Alia corrected, her smile wry.
A tension, feverish and morose at once, settled over the group after Narsai took his leave. There were too many ifs for this venture, which set Bessa¡¯s teeth on edge. As second in command of her grandmother¡¯s vineyard, she had lived by contingency plans. She could not always count on a harvest to be bountiful from one year to the next. Some vintages inundated her vineyard with riches, others might be devoured by locusts, or suffer from a lack of rain. A downturn in the fortunes of her customers would leave them tightening their girdles, and buying less wine. So Bessa always kept contingency plans, and contingency plans for the contingency plans. This time¡­this time, too much was riding on the works and choices of other people. To put her fate in the hands of others sat so poorly in her mind that Bessa visibly shuddered. Far easier to put her faith in endeavors whose outcomes depended upon her own actions, or on those of her staff, whom she had trained and commanded. But now she must trust the priests; she must leave key decisions to them. Did she make her case to them as well as she could have? The price of failure was soul-crushingly high. Now, on the way back to the larder to finish gathering provisions, one particular fact kept insistently jumping to her mind: if Thuraia should fall, there was no other world to flee to. No Gate stood that would allow the humans to escape, as the Salamandra had escaped the doom of their own world. The giants had gone to the world of the Salamandra¡ª Bessa halted in her tracks. ¡°The giants went there,¡± she murmured.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. But where from? Erebossa? Or another world, where they were as natural as humans were on Thuraia? ¡°What about the giants?¡± Edana asked, overhearing her. She had reclaimed the basket she had earlier filled to the brim with persimmons, and was now filling it with root vegetables. Meanwhile, Alia examined the lentils kept on a low shelf, while Tregarde measured out a selection of spices and cooking herbs into little sachets or tins. Sheridan looked through the medicinal herbs, particularly the ones suitable for making poultices. All of them indicated in some way or another that they were listening for Bessa¡¯s reply. Obligingly she said aloud, ¡°Where do the giants come from? Can we send them back there? And are they at war with the gods? If so, why?¡± ¡°They were supposed to be gods themselves,¡± Sel¨¤na said, startling them by her unexpected entrance into the larder. She walked over to a corner, sack in hand, and opened the lid of a large copper bin that proved to contain flour. As usual, she avoided their gazes. ¡°Gods? In what way could that happen?¡± Edana demanded. Bessa knew that Edana was no polytheist; she believed there was only one god alone, the Sower. And Halie, daughter of the Sea Lord, had not exactly contradicted her¡­ Sel¨¤na¡¯s hand tightened on the metal scoop inside the bin. When she faced Edana her emotions warred across her face. Primarily wariness, with a touch of curiosity. And something else, another emotion that Bessa couldn¡¯t identify at first. Then Bessa considered: During Sel¨¤na¡¯s captivity, her mother had cared for and nurtured Edana, treating her as if she were Sel¨¤na. Gods: Please don¡¯t let envy get in our way, Bessa prayed under her breath. Strife was the last thing they needed. ¡°My mother¡¯s priests taught me we live in a world of order, in the Cosmos,¡± said Sel¨¤na, her tone neutral as she scooped flour into her sack. ¡°Erebossa was divided from the Cosmos in some primordial age that none of us can reckon. But Zephyra learned that in that time, Rahqu existed. She told Zephyra she had been overthrown. I don¡¯t know by whom, but she likened them to the shahrabs of Anshan, lesser kings of a kind who guard and protect different nations and city-states within the empire. Only, the primordial shahrabs were together protecting Thuraia: The Huntress, the Sea Lord, the Restorer, and the Reaper.¡± ¡°The Nasiru,¡± Bessa said. Alia bolted upright from where she knelt at a sack of lentils. ¡°Guardians! You know that word?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± Bessa corrected. ¡°But Her Grace, Halie does. She¡¯s the Sea Lord¡¯s daughter, and that is how she refers to those gods. Whom Edana says are not gods, but are celestial servants of the Sower. Halie allowed for that possibility, as she said the Sea Lord claimed to be a servant of a kind. Not a servant of the people of this world, but of a power higher than His. And the Sower has the strongest power of any of the known gods, so I suppose that¡¯s congruent with what the Eitanim believe.¡± Alia exhaled. A smile played across her lips. ¡°All right. The Nasiru. Good. This makes everything much easier. I am under a geas, not to reveal certain information to people who do not know of the Nasiru as Nasiru. And this Halie you speak of, she¡¯s retrieving the Eye of the Seeker?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Bessa answered. ¡°But what of it? What does it mean that Rahqu is after the Nasiru?¡± ¡°It means I know who she is now.¡± Alia looked almost giddy as she rubbed her hands. ¡°In my childhood I was taught about it. Look, the division of the Cosmos from Erebossa didn¡¯t happen peacefully. The Sower is the one who divided them from each other, and this was partly to stop the being I now know is named Rahqu. All of the Named¡ªand Unnamed¡ªOnes we know of, these were created by the Sower to carry out specific tasks. But a particular Nameless One¡ªRahqu, I believe¡ªwanted His power. From what my mother and her sisters told me, this particular Nameless One was stripped of its name when it was stripped of its powers. This one you call it by¡ªRahqu¡ªis not its name. It¡¯s a description of what it is: a spirit of the Void. It is neither male, nor female. It is nothing at all.¡± Edana raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°The Primordial Void? It was embodied¡ªso to speak¡ªin a spirit?¡± ¡°A spirit of negation,¡± Sel¨¤na clarified. ¡°The spirits of creation are her¡ªits¡ªenemies. I¡ªZephyra was told that the guardians of Thuraia had stolen Rahqu¡¯s powers and had corrupted her children. They had to be turned back, she was told.¡± ¡°But really just sealed away from the world,¡± Alia said darkly. Though she presented her back and hid her face, the way Sel¨¤na rubbed the back of her neck told on her state of mind. ¡°I know that. I know it now. I¡¯m sorry¡ª¡± ¡°Those were Zephyra¡¯s actions,¡± Alia said quickly. ¡°As you said. She was told. How much do you believe of what she was told?¡± ¡°I know what you want: you want to know if any part of the lore she was taught could help you defeat Rahqu. If you could divide that lore from the lies interwoven with them.¡± Sel¨¤na turned back to face them. Though she kept her head low, she peeked at them through her lashes, as if to check their reaction. ¡°I¡¯ve been pondering the same question. Should I simply believe the exact opposite of everything she was told? No because some things she was told was true. You, and Optima Nuriel, and Optima Philomelos, were on your way here to destroy my fath¡ªto destroy Amavand. That was true.¡± ¡°Truths in the services of lies,¡± Bessa murmured. ¡°That¡¯s what¡¯s so insidious. You have to question everything.¡± ¡°And rely on nothing,¡± Sel¨¤na observed. ¡°I have asked Fravak. There may be a ritual he can do. But it¡¯s risky. And I am bound to this world.¡± Plink plink came the sound of her tapping her cuffs. The soft violet light they emitted reminded Bessa that the bands were still at work, protecting them from Zephyra¡¯s power to walk through Erebossa. Among other hair-raising possibilities¡­ ¡°Why does that make a difference?¡± Alia demanded. ¡°When Amavand was dying, Zephyra visited him. He showed her his memories, and I believe those memories were true. His animus was not against the Huntress or the other guardians, but against the Seeker. Her prophet warned King Baraz, Amavand¡¯s father, that Amavand should not be his successor. That he would bring ruin to Elamis if he were king. Five years into Amavand¡¯s reign, Elamis suffered a siege from Shushan, and its crops were charmed away or blighted. Amavand suspected enemy reapers were acting to fulfill the Seeker¡¯s prophecy, but he refused to abdicate. That was when Artostes showed up. And introduced him to her. The belet ershetu: queen of the darkness. But Amavand was able to show me his memories because we stood more in Erebossa than in Thuraia. You understand?¡± ¡°You want to review more of his memories?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°He knew what was true and what wasn¡¯t. He entered an alliance with Rahqu willingly. He willingly killed my father, and tried to kill my mother. And he abducted me. He knew what he was doing, and why. The Nameless One didn¡¯t need to deceive him at all, the way Zephyra was deceived.¡± Bitterness rang in her voice. Alia held up a hand. ¡°That¡¯s true. But this is a dangerous time of year. Erebossa holds too much sway during the Dead Times. If you¡ªif Zephyra hadn¡¯t been allied with Rahqu during her shadow walk, it would not have gone well for her. Trust me on this.¡± ¡°I trust you in everything,¡± Sel¨¤na replied, earning an astonished expression from the huntress. Seeing the look on Alia¡¯s face, Sel¨¤na added, ¡°You never deceived me. Or did any evil to me. You¡¯re all I have to hold on to in this.¡± She glanced at the others. ¡°All of you. You¡¯re all I can trust right now. I¡¯m with you to the end. Please, huntress, is there a way to do what I¡¯m suggesting? Amavand¡¯s secrets should not die with him.¡± Without realizing it, Bessa held her breath as she watched Alia¡¯s reaction. The huntress sighed deeply and rubbed her temples, as if the matter pained her. ¡°No,¡± she said darkly. ¡°They should not.¡± Chapter 4: Intrigues of the Scorpion Chapter IV Intrigues of the Scorpion In which Alia calls for aid, and the celestials answer ¡°I am aware of your misgivings, huntress, and I share them,¡± said Fravak, high priest of Aletheia. With firesteel he ignited the kindling placed in a basin on a low table below the altar. Five incense burners were lined up before the basin, each fashioned in fanciful ways. The one in front of Alia was bronze, with a handle made to look like an outstretched cat. The cat¡¯s forepaws clutched a little empty bowl. Alia sighed. Having had all night to sleep, she felt more prepared to deal withSel¨¤na¡¯s proposal to investigate Protector Amavand¡¯s memories. During breakfast with the others Alia managed to avoid discussing it, but after breakfast Sel¨¤na insisted on leading them back to Fravak. To her dismay, Fravak did not dismiss the idea outright. If anything, he seemed intrigued by the venture. More, he insisted they make incense offerings to the Truthsayer, that She might bless them with special insight. ¡°You share my misgivings, you say. Yet you¡¯re going to go ahead with this anyway, aren¡¯t you?¡± Alia asked. To her left, in front of Tregarde, a box of spikenard incense sat at the ready. She pulled out a pinched of incense and placed it in the cat¡¯s bowl, then passed the box to Sheridan, who stood at her right. Though Fravak flinched at her question, inwardly she was pleased she managed to keep the tartness from her voice. The high priest did not sit high in her estimation, but she acknowledged to herselfthat Elamis presented different pressures and constraints for him than the kind she¡¯d dealt with back in Lyrcania. Fravak pointed to Sel¨¤na, who stood last in line, next to Bessa. After a moment Alia realized he was specifically pointing to the cuffs the Eitanite priests used to bind her shadow magic. ¡°By the power of the Sower, Sel¨¤na is bound here. Creatures from Erebossa cannot check His power. Only abyssals and their agents would try and drag her to the other side, and they cannot.¡± Reasonable, as far as answering one of her objections. ¡°Perhaps. But what protects the rest of you and the echomancers?¡± ¡°Why, you of course,¡± he said. ¡°As a representative of the Huntress. And Arenavachi protects Her own. The Historians have the Seeker. We all have faith. And Arenavachi should wax strong here, since we are uncovering lies, which She approves of. What say you?¡± No, no, no. The words danced on Alia¡¯s tongue, but she refrained from saying them aloud. All that escaped her lips was another sigh, her deepest yet. Abruptly she quieted, noting warily that Tregarde was eying her. She cocked an eyebrow at him, which he apparently took as an invitation, for he said, ¡°High Lady Summoner of Astrals, I think you can do this. And since Erebossa is involved, you technically don¡¯t have to summon the astral. It¡¯s right where you want it to be, in the first place. It just needs to act as an escort.¡± Astrals. Ah yes, she would require their help. Especially as she was the only priestess of the Huntress present. But that didn¡¯t make the idea any less mad, and for such reason Alia glanced at her companions to check their reactions. Sober, stoic Sheridan was nodding in agreement. Sheridan! He who didn¡¯t trust in summoning astrals was now so casual about the prospect? Why? And Bessa? Carefully, the Siluran placed her stick of incense into Fravak¡¯s fire bowl. Instantly the perfume filled the air, even as she quickly dropped the stick into her lotus-shaped incense holder. ¡°I didn¡¯t know anyone in real life could summon astrals, until Sheridan mentioned the other night that you did,¡± she said. ¡°If you can, why not? Do you have another way to find out what Amavand knew?¡± What Amavand knew. At this question Alia felt her resistance waver. Aside from Fravak¡ªor maybe not¡ªeveryone in this room had brushed against Erebossa¡¯s agents: eidolons, fellshades, and arsh¡¯at?m. Bessa¡¯s question was not that of an ignorant, innocent child. It was a question asked by one who¡¯d faced such terrors before, and understood the risk they would be facing in this endeavor. Reluctantly, Alia leaned forward to better look upon Sel¨¤na. As usual, Sel¨¤na didn¡¯t face anyone. She was watching as a curl of smoke rose up from the upturned beak of a bronze sparrow, which served as her incense holder. Nevertheless, though she presented only her profile, Alia studied her face anyway. This girl who was once Zephyra was indeed restored to her true self, but Alia could not stop herself from wondering if Rahqu still somehow made her dance to her tune. Visiting Amavand¡¯s memories would serve as the perfect trap, and Alia tried to imagine how Palamara would react if faced with it. ¡°Sweet merciful Huntress, spare me, please. No. No, Bessa, I do not have another option. What I have is an observation: when we caught her, Zephyra said wraiths carried off Amavand¡¯s spirit. If the wraiths are the kind my mother taught me about, then retrieving any spirit in their possession is not an easy proposition. They usually take the spirits of the wicked right to the Abyssal Gates, which usually means appealing to the Destroyer Himself if we do this. But thanks to Amavand¡¯s wickedness we are far from usually in this matter.¡± Tregarde whistled, catching her drift. ¡°Right ¡­ he worshipped an infernal queen. Damn. So Amavand¡¯s spirit might be with Rahqu then. And she won¡¯t give him up to us.¡± ¡°Infernals aren¡¯t known for giving up thralls,¡± Alia said dryly. ¡°More to the point, Amavand can report to her what he sees, which I really don¡¯t think will go well for us. It¡¯s a trap.¡± From the corner of her eye she saw Sel¨¤na shudder. ¡°Did I come up with this idea on my own, then? Or did she plant it in me?¡± Sel¨¤na asked, echoing Alia¡¯s thoughts. Alia and Fravak exchanged a glance. ¡°Arenavachi freed you,¡± Fravak pointed out. ¡°Freed you from the queen, specifically. It shouldn¡¯t have any further hold on you.¡± ¡°So there¡¯s no way at all to find out what Amavand knew about the giants?¡± Bessa pursued. Alia stepped away from the incense table and turned to face the spring. The waters were so crystalline, so clear, so pure, that she was mesmerized. With the greatest of effort she looked away. ¡°Call for the echomancers,¡± she surrendered. ¡°And I will call for reinforcements.¡±
High noon came, and brought with it three women. Echomancers, marked so by their miniature electrum astrolabes they wore as pendants around their necks. Silver stars spangled their sky blue chitons, round about their hems and cuffs. The keepers of Aletheia¡¯s Fane had left the body of the lord protector of Elamis on the bier where he¡¯d perished. A sheet covered him, hiding his unnaturally rapid decay from casual view: his skeleton was already beginning to emerge. The cloying, sickly scent of his decay mingled with the ritual scents of myrtle, frankincense, hyssop, and jasmine. The group fanned out, taking position in relation to Amavand, with Alia at his head. Fravak, flanked by two of his truth-seers, stood to the Amavand¡¯s right. As Aletheia¡¯s high priest the silver crown he wore was fashioned to look like a wreath of myrtle. The three echomancers stood to the left of the former lord protector of Elamis. At his foot was Sel¨¤na. Behind her stood Bessa, Edana, Tregarde, and Sheridan. So it began, with Alia singing a canticle in the liturgical language the dryads had taught her. A soft glow enveloped the group, and only then did the echomancers begin their part. The echomancers clutched their pendants, and suddenly the walls of the room vanished, to be replaced by a starry void. ¡°Now let us see that which came to pass,¡± an echomancer intoned. ¡°Let us see the day, let us see the hour, and from whence knowledge of the Atta¡¯u came to the lord of Elamis.¡± Stars swirled about them, but awe overcame any dizziness they might have felt. Out of the void a room appeared, a well-appointed study fit for a king. The group found themselves on the outer edges of a tableau, wherein a young Amavand sat in a chair before a citrus wood table. Across from him at the table sat a man Bessa didn¡¯t recognize. ¡°Artostes. The Magister of War,¡± Sel¨¤na said, identifying him for their sake. Amavand held a chalice of wine in his hand. Not once did he bring it to his lips. Instead he sat back in his chair and regarded Artostes through narrowed eyes. ¡°¡­and how are we to do this? Us and what army? When the king finds out, his army will crush us. As will that of Rasena Valentis, and Xia. You¡¯ll unite them all instead of smashing them to bits.¡± Artostes laughed. ¡°You¡¯re quite right, Your Majesty. Quite right. That¡¯s why we won¡¯t rely on your flesh and blood army. They will turn against you the moment you try, even if you manage to suborn a few to follow the Greatest One.¡± The satrap¡¯s lips tightened. He didn¡¯t look as if he were used to anyone laughing at him, as if he were a man of no consequence. ¡°Explain.¡± ¡°The Greatest One has her own army, of course. With them, she has conquered worlds, more than you know. I have seen this for myself. So can you, if you ever screw up the courage to go through the shadow gate.¡± ¡°It seems you¡¯re calling me a coward, Artostes. Are you so sure of your place with the Greatest One? Are you so sure I need you alive?¡± Artostes¡¯ lips trembled with suppressed laughter. After a moment his face smoothed out. ¡°Your fear is natural, because you are still flesh and blood. I shouldn¡¯t have implied there was any flaw in you for it. ¡®O king, live forever,¡¯ as they say. And if you follow us, you will live forever.¡± The scene dimmed slightly. ¡°A lie,¡± Fravak judged. ¡°Artostes didn¡¯t believe what he was saying about immortality.¡± ¡°That is not even his true shape,¡± Sel¨¤na added. ¡°He was a scorpion man, and the guardian of the shadow gate in the citadel.¡± ¡°But he was corrupted,¡± said the truth-seer to Fravak¡¯s right. ¡°He believed what he said about investigating other worlds. He did do that. He could do that, as a scorpion man.¡± ¡°Now we shall see his true form now. Now we shall see all that is true,¡± said the third truth-seer. The scene warped, and suddenly so did Artostes. Before, he and Amavand had been matched in height even as they sat at the table. But now Artostes¡¯ head brushed the ceiling, and his broad chest and huge arms made him look ridiculous next to the relatively tiny table at which he sat¡ªstood, rather, on his massive scorpion legs. His powerful human torso joined so smoothly with his scorpion lower half that he looked remarkably natural, even as he awed those who spied upon him now. Edana and Tregarde exclaimed, recognizing Artostes at last as the scorpion man they had fought in the shadow gate. If Alia recognized him she couldn¡¯t say; she was too busy chanting the canticles. The scorpion man continued talking, ¡°Our army cannot be killed by normal means, or by the weapons that anyone in your high king¡¯s army would have. Or the armies of Rasena Valentis or Xia. You can be sure of that. The army of our goddess has superior power, and superior armor. This world will come under subjection. You can lead that world¡­or you can make way for another. What¡¯s your preference?¡± His scorpion stinger wagged slightly over his shoulder¡ªaimed directly for Amavand. ¡°He believed that,¡± Fravak said. Precisely, deliberately, Amavand set down his wine. He tented his fingers and raised his chin. ¡°Where is this army? In Erebossa?¡± ¡°No, Erebossa¡¯s astral highways are only a conduit. They¡¯re the road the Greatest One¡¯s army travels to get where the Greatest One needs them to go. Here, in this case.¡± Before the scorpion man could say another word, a rent appeared straight down the middle of the starry void, behind the echomancers. The void yawned open. Out probed enormous claws¡ª ¡ªthat were snatched back by an unseen force. White lightning arced across the tear, which promptly sealed shut again. Alia exhaled. Tension lines formed around her eyes and mouth. After a moment, four figures appeared, one in each corner outside the circle. An ethereal haze of blinding white and silver sheathed them from head to toe. The figures were variously armed; later Bessa would say she glimpsed the figure to the east carrying two falcata-shaped knives, and the figure to the west held a scythe. The one stationed to the north gripped a staff surmounted by a standard of a phoenix arising from flames. At the southern station stood one she could not see at all, for the haze obscured it utterly. However, no one could doubt who these beings were: Celestials. So divine was their bearing that those who beheld them had to fight not to fall to their knees. But reverence paralyzed them, especially when the haze surrounding the eastern celestial cleared momentarily, revealing a countenance like that of the Huntress. From the way the celestials had arranged themselves, the other figures must represent the Restorer and the Reaper. To the south none dared to look, for the Watcher there had to be an incarnation of the Destroyer. Bessa exhaled. Astral warriors. Never had she imagined seeing them, not so long as she lived. The lore she¡¯d read about them indicated that only a priest or sorcerer aligned with specific gods could ever hope to see an astral warrior, even in death. But she was seeing them now because infernal forces were attacking the ceremony. And perhaps, the group itself. Bessa shuddered, and tried to focus again on the unfolding scene.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Amavand was asking, ¡°And before that? Where are they when they aren¡¯t in Erebossa?¡± ¡°In their world, I suppose,¡± Artostes said with a shrug. ¡°The Gate is open on their side. And it will open permanently on this side, once Vartanian¡¯s group is finished.¡± Honoria! A lightning bolt of clarity shot through Bessa, and beside her Edana stirred. In what seemed like forever ago, Bessa herself had speculated that Honoria Vartanian¡ªthe First Abyssal¡ªwas using her brick making company as a front, to allow her minions to enter places where they otherwise couldn¡¯t. ¡°And when do you expect that to happen? In the Seven Gates Era, the Anshan Gate alone took sixteen years to finish, and that was the only Gate to be constructed so quickly.¡± The scorpion man shrugged. His enigmatic smile chilled them. ¡°You¡¯re assuming I know, or share, or care about the history of humans. Seven Gates, do you say? That¡¯s¡­well, that¡¯s amusing. Seven. You humans only record seven? Oh, I suppose you only count the Gates that let you travel to parts of this world. Not other worlds.¡± Lord Protector Amavand arched an elegant eyebrow. If he was astounded that more worlds existed besides Thuraia, his cool expression did not reveal it. Fravak whispered, ¡°Truth. The scorpion man believed that. More Gates? To other worlds? And it is so!¡± ¡°Lady Nensela was right,¡± Edana said. ¡°She suspected more Gates existed at one point. She was trying to find out about them.¡± Bessa quickly calculated. The Seven Gates Era had begun with the completion of the Pelasgian Gate, in the early centuries after the Third Cataclysm. Well over three thousand years ago. Records from that time period were far more sparse than she liked just now, even accounting for which nations did or didn¡¯t have writing then. If only Lady Nensela were here¡­ Zing! The celestials had shifted their stances, clashing arms with armored monsters. White lightning arced from their weapons, impaling the monsters. The ground shook. Automatically Bessa and Edana clasped hands, which was when Bessa noticed Edana was praying softly yet fervently in the prayer language of the Eitanim. A violet light enveloped Edana, then spread out right and left until it encompassed Alia as well. Only the echomancers seemed oblivious as they maintained the vision of the past. Artostes continued, ¡°What you did in your primitive past has no bearing on now. Now you have our help. Don¡¯t fear, the Gate will be finished in your lifetime, I promise you. Let¡¯s see. When next a dawn eclipse comes on the summer solstice day, the Gate will be finished. You can be sure of that.¡± ¡°But the army. Who is this army? Not flesh and blood, but you don¡¯t seem to be saying they¡¯re abyssals, either. Or are you?¡± ¡°I think your people would call them giants. And they¡¯re not of the Abyss. But they¡­let¡¯s say they¡¯re not supposed to exist.¡± ¡°Truth,¡± said the truth-seer to Fravak¡¯s left. ¡°And they can¡¯t be defeated by our weapons?¡± Protector Amavand was leaning forward now. Only his crossed arms hinted of his skepticism. ¡°And how are they controlled?¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be controlling them. Nor will I. They only take orders from our goddess. They go where she pleases, and destroy whom she pleases. Not you. Not me.¡± ¡°But can only a god defeat them? Or can a mortal do it?¡± Artostes shifted on his scorpion legs. A nervous gesture? ¡°There are¡­those born of man and woman that our goddess speaks of unfavorably. They are a threat to her plans. Perhaps? Perhaps they can defeat her giants. But they can be dealt with. They will be dealt with. And you will help.¡± ¡°Naturally,¡± Amavand said, and this time it was his voice that rang with mockery. ¡°But you¡¯re avoiding the question. I want to be sure. Tell me something, my good magister: what is it about these people that makes our goddess speak so unfavorably about them? What do they have in common?¡± ¡°It won¡¯t matter,¡± Artostes said, shifting on his legs again. ¡°It won¡¯t matter because they¡¯ll never find the Gate. They¡¯ll never be able to¡ª¡± A roar filled their ears. Suddenly, the scene erupted as a colossal claw shot up through the citrus-wood table, obliterating the tableau. Artostes and Amavand vanished before their eyes. The claw clenched into a fist, and aimed. Straight for Sel¨¤na. Alia let loose a war cry, so fierce and bloodcurdling that everyone jumped in terror. From Alia¡¯s mouth white lightning burst forth, piercing the colossal claw from one side all the way to the other. The white fire shredded and flayed the claw, which writhed and lashed at Sel¨¤na. Terror overtook them, too much to scream. The astral warriors were engaged in battle, this time against three more abyssals each. Edana surged forward, pulling back Sel¨¤na. Not once did Edana cease her prayers, and as soon as she touched Sel¨¤na a violet wreath swathed around the girl. What was left of the claw struck that wreath¡­ ¡­which sealed its fate. The Shield of the Sower vaporized the claw instantly, leaving not even a fine layer of dust behind. A burst of violet lightning surged outward, knocking all of them off their feet. Bessa screamed, fearing to be thrown into the void. However, to her distant gratification she slammed back against something solid. The breath knocked out of her, she couldn¡¯t even gasp. The void vanished. Once again they stood in a chamber of Aletheia¡¯s Fane. The bright glowlights that illuminated the room forced Bessa to shut her eyes. After so long in the dark, the light was painful. Somewhere to her right, Edana groaned. ¡°Ironwing!¡± Sheridan cried. Bessa quickly forced her eyes open. Almost everyone lay in heaps against the walls. Fravak knelt down, trying to rouse the truth-seer who had been standing to his left. Meanwhile, Edana was batting with obvious confusion at Sel¨¤na¡¯s shoulder. Out cold, Sel¨¤na lay against Edana¡¯s stomach, pinning her to the floor. With shocking grace, Sheridan sprang to his feet. He rushed over to where the huntress had been standing. Bessa¡¯s heart leapt in her throat. ¡°Is she here? Did the fellshades get her?¡± Recriminations swirled in her mind,as she tried to rise. Vividly Alia¡¯s face came to her mind, and the way the huntress had seemed so reluctant to risk this little gambit. If the fellshades took the huntress ¡­ With far less grace than Sheridan, Bessa managed to rise. She hurried after him, rounding the bier to reach the spot where Alia had been standing. Sprawled out on the stone floor, Alia lay unconscious. Kneeling at her side, Sheridan patted her face to rouse her. Bessa knelt opposite, and briskly took over. Memories of Papouli on his rounds came back to her. Gently she probed Alia for signs of any broken bones, or any other obvious injuries. Alia¡¯s eyelashes fluttered. ¡°Help her sit up,¡± Bessa ordered. ¡°Gently now.¡± Reassured that the huntress still remained within the Cosmos, and unharmed at that, Bessa checked on the others. By this time Edana had managed to move Sel¨¤na, freeing herself. She was rubbing her temples when Bessa reached her. ¡°That claw,¡± Edana said. She looked down at Sel¨¤na, whose eyes were still tightly shut. ¡°It was aiming straight for her.¡± ¡°Rahqu? Could that have been her hand? Trying to reclaim Sel¨¤na?¡± Edana shuddered. They couldn¡¯t discount the possibility. Moments later, Sel¨¤na awakened. Though she was shaking, she managed to get to her feet, and readily accepted Edana¡¯s arm when she offered it. Fravak suggested they regroup in his study. It was spacious, with friezes of Aletheia carved into enameled brick walls. In one sequence She traversed the heavens in a chariot pulled by a pair of lamassu, which bore the heads of men, the bodies of lions, and the wings of eagles. The succeeding sequence showed Her wielding Her flaming staff in battle against a creature that had three snakes in place of a head: a demon of deception that was attempting to corrupt a king in Anshan. In other sequences, She bestowed blessings on the kings of Anshan, who in turn glowed with Her holy light. Twelve columns supported the ceiling in Fravak¡¯s office, six pairs down the central part of the room, forming the aisles whose walls bore the reliefs of Aletheia. The columns sported fluted red shafts and capitals in the form of golden lions, back to back on all fours, with their heads raised. Sheridan carried Alia in his arms. She was too groggy to attempt to walk. He lay her on one of the cedar couches Fravak had arranged in a circle between the columns. Once settled in his office, Fravak¡¯s attendants hurried to bring them wine in orichalcum rhytons. The rhytons, conical vessels, had been molded at the bottom in the form of lion heads, alluding to the fact the lion-bodied lamassu pulled Aletheia¡¯s chariot, as they did Her twin Sorcha. When most everyone had regained their nerves¡ªand Alia regained her senses¡ªshe spoke up. ¡°They were waiting for us. Exactly as I thought they would be. There were more forces than what you saw, beyond your sight. Your stronghold would have held under most circumstances,¡± she said, directing herself to the echomancers. Only one of the echomancers, Delara, had recovered enough to speak. Her reddish hair was in disarray, but her eyes were sharp, focused. ¡°But not this time, if you hadn¡¯t been there,¡± Delara acknowledged. ¡°And we thank you. We did not know about these other Gates. And you say that the scorpion man spoke truly?¡± She directed this question to Fravak. He nodded slowly. ¡°On this part he did. More Gates. To more worlds.¡± Included with the rhytons were small plates of flat potato fritters, accented with dill and wedges of lemon. Fravak passed them around. ¡°These are spiced with saffron and turmeric, which may be strange to you, but I promise the result will please your tongue. And take note of this bowl here. Pelasgians say this substance is oxygala, but we have a better version¡ªif I may so¡ªcalled yogurt. Try it, we have flavored it with lemons.¡± Bessa took an experimental bite of the fritter, and found that Fravak was correct. Rich and savory, the treat oddly reassured her: she was alive, not trappedamongst the fell creatures of Erebossa. ¡°Back to the Gate question¡ªHonoria¡¯s people may either be building one or restoring one, but they aren¡¯t finished with it yet. The dawn eclipse happens on this coming summer solstice, and that¡¯s when Lady Nensela¡¯s prophecy says the giants will arrive.¡± ¡°He believed the Gate would not be complete until such a time,¡± Fravak confirmed. ¡°That¡¯s a kind of project that can¡¯t be hidden,¡± Edana said, examining a fritter. ¡°Let¡¯s consider the size of the current Gates, and how much adamant you need¡ª¡± One of the echomancers suddenly stood up, drawing their attention. Setareh? Yes, indeed, and Bessa noted the firmness of the woman¡¯s tone as she spoke. ¡°Not adamant,¡± Setareh said. ¡°I know that much about the Gates; the substance they¡¯re made of isn¡¯t adamant. It¡¯s star steel, not from our world. Where it did come from: a series of stars that fell to our world thousands of years ago. They caused the Third Cataclysm¡ªthe one Cataclysm not caused by sylphs. I¡¯ve had a hunch that those rocks might have been a volley in a war, but who would we have been fighting? That, I never knew.¡± Bessa inhaled sharply. Lessons came to her mind, of the lore taught by her tutors. ¡°The Night of Falling Stars! I remember this story, of a storm in the heavens. And after that came the Night of Falling Stars, and then the Third Cataclysm. The Seven Gates were built after the Cataclysm. Someone might have cast down those stars for exactly that purpose; perhaps it wasn¡¯t even possible to build Gates before then¡ª¡± she broke off, her eyes fixed on Edana¡¯s face. Edana¡¯s face was slack, with either astonishment or wonder or some other emotion Bessa could not place. ¡°Pha?nna,¡± Edana whispered. A name she had never mentioned to Bessa. Who was this ¡®Pha?nna,¡¯ and why did Edana say her name with such reverence? ¡°Is she from the legend?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps,¡± Edana replied, staring off into the middle distance. ¡°Until you mentioned it, I¡¯d forgotten all about the legend. I met a star nymph once, who walks among us in bodily form. She goes about in the shape of a woman, but that is only one of her shapes. And she told me she fell to Thuraia ¡®many lifetimes ago.¡¯ There¡¯s a lot I can¡¯t say, but I will say that she established a covenant with certain humans after the Third Cataclysm.¡± Ah. This had to do with the Star Dragons. Didn¡¯t Ziri claim his order of arcana had treaties and covenants going back to that time? And it explained Edana¡¯s evasiveness. Broken now from her reverie, Edana at last attended to her fritter. While the others murmured in astonishment at her claim, she tore her fritter in half,and tasted one half. Followed by a nod of approval, and a dipping of the second half into the yogurt. The result brought a smile to her lips. Only after this did she speak again. ¡°The star also didn¡¯t tell me why she fell, and I didn¡¯t think to ask her¡ªthere was a lot going on¡ªif I were the wagering type I would stake money that in those days, someone on Thuraia knew the power of those metals, and what could be done with them,¡± Edana added. ¡°The Salamandra,¡± Alia said. Seeing everyone turn their gaze upon her, she quickly explained, ¡°The Salamandra aren¡¯t from here. They came before the Second Cataclysm, and are the reason the sylphs produced that Cataclysm. That was what, five thousand years ago? But fifteen hundred years before the Third Cataclysm. And of anyone on Thuraia in those days, they are the ones who would have to know how to build world Gates: they are immortal, and keep records.¡± While the others again exclaimed in surprise, Bessa exchanged a look with Edana. ¡°We met the Fire Lords, and they said as much,¡± Bessa confirmed. ¡°The Salamandra lost their world to the giants, and fled here. They told us they came through a gate that was between the wastes of Anshan and Xia. But how could they do that, if no Gates existed until after the Third Cataclysm?¡± ¡°No, no, the Guileless One just confirmed Artostes was telling the truth about more Gates existing,¡± Alia pointed out. ¡°So it¡¯s not impossible for there to be a Gate before the Seven we know about. And obviously, the now-vanished Anshan-Xia Gate was one of them.¡± ¡°Well hold on here,¡± Tregarde interjected. The sorcerer had been studying the frescoes, lingering over the one where Aletheia battled the evil spirit of deception. ¡°If the Salamandra did build our Gates, what would they do that for? Especially if the Gates could go to other worlds?¡± ¡°An escape route,¡± Bessa suggested. ¡°They had to escape once, why not twice? If you think of the story of the Falling Stars in terms of a battle, then the Salamandra might have decided they would need another escape route.¡± She considered a question she had asked herself before, and spoke it out loud. ¡°How many worlds are there, besides ours and the home world of the Salamandra? The giants apparently have their own world, not just the one they stole from the Salamandra. Lady Nensela said once that we can¡¯t go to their land and retaliate, but what if we could? If I were a Salamandran, I would want to find out where the giants came from, and how I might avenge my people. I want to find out where the giants come from, and how I might avenge my people: we need to find that Gate.¡± ¡°Honoria was working on building it,¡± Edana reminded her. ¡°Our cipher sages may have cracked the code she wrote about it. The time has come to find where she was sending those brick makers.¡± Before anyone could move, an acolyte priest rushed into the room. He skidded to a halt, then clasped his knees as he attempted to catch his breath. ¡°What is it?¡± Fravak demanded. A wheeze, then another, and finally the acolyte straightened up. ¡°The shah¡±¡ªwheeze, wheeze, wheeze¡ª ¡°the shah¡ªahem. The shahanshah was attacked ¡­ in his winter palace.¡± Fravak and the other Anshani exclaimed, but Edana exchanged a glance with Bessa. Drusus Caecilianus Tarkhana, the emperor of Rasena Valentis, had fought off attackers in his palace over the past summer. Which brought to remembrance the suspicion that his would-be slayers had intended for the fellshade Murena to usurp Tarkhana¡¯s body. Had the evil spirits schemed to do the same thing to the man who called himself Anshan¡¯s king of kings? ¡°Is he alive?¡± Sel¨¤na demanded. The acolyte eyed her with distaste¡ªas Zephyra she had sent monsters to besiege the very temple where they now stood. ¡°Yes. Wounded, though. His attackers ambushed him in one of the gardens.¡± ¡°And side effects? Any strange behavior?¡± Sel¨¤na pursued. A glance at Fravak, who nodded in turn. The acolyte responded, ¡°No one sees him. His first wife attends to him, and a few of the very select in his inner circle. But other than that¡­¡± ¡°This can¡¯t be a coincidence,¡± Bessa said. ¡°We know Rahqu wants the haoma, the ambrosia the simurghs guard. And the high king has the keys to their realm. Rahqu is going after it now.¡± The Anshani exclaimed at this, but Sel¨¤na remained calm. Quietly she said, ¡°I can get us to the high king. I have Amavand¡¯s seal ring, and that will give me right of entry into the shahanshah¡¯s presence. But the high king never met Zephyra, so she had no influence with him. Therefore, neither do I. However, bringing news of Amavand¡¯s death, and saying that it¡¯s related to the attack on the high king should win you an audience. Everything after that will be up to you.¡± ¡°Fair enough,¡± Bessa swiftly agreed. Beside her Edana shivered, inviting a question from Bessa. ¡° ¡®I fight no battle unarmed¡¯,¡± Edana said softly. But she waited until the echomancers left before saying, ¡°Let¡¯s go over everything we¡¯re going to need. I want to leave as early tomorrow morning as we can. First light would be ideal.¡± Tregarde rubbed his hands. ¡°As an itinerant doer-of-good-deeds, let me give some advice: forget the baggage train. They attract bandits and bureaucrats, and you can¡¯t always tell the difference between the two. But aside from that, we need to travel light. We need to travel fast. And in secret if we can.¡± Chapter 5: The Temple of the Damned Chapter V The Temple of the Damned In which Alia makes good on a promise Alia dispatched Sheridan to see to their gryphons, kept penned up in the fane¡¯s aerie. Their three gryphons should transport the six of them fast enough, once they got underway. But another matter pressed on her mind. Back in the priests¡¯ tower, Sel¨¤na brought up the rear as the group dispersed. Allowing Alia to neatly cut across her path and separate her from the others. The girl halted, and blinked at Alia in obvious startlement. Her eyes darted from side to side, as if she were searching for escape routes. Without preamble Alia asked, ¡°Where did you¡ªwhere did Zephyra dispose of the bodies of the people she sacrificed to Rahqu? My aunts, the dryads. Or the bodies of those people the Manticoran Guards murdered?¡± Shuddering, Sel¨¤na pressed her fingers against her temples. ¡°Must we speak of this?¡± Alia considered her. What ghastly rites had Sel¨¤na witnessed as Zephyra? Back in Lyrcania, Alia had thwarted a soul-cutting ceremony. What would she have seen if she hadn¡¯t been able to stop the shadow priests in time? The shadow priests were part of the Lords of Chaos, who were allied with Lord Protector Amavand¡ªthe Eye, as Junius Fellrath¡¯s note had referred to him. Sel¨¤na exhaled, and fixed glassy eyes upon Alia. ¡°Every one killed in her name was brought first to the temple. Her temple. It¡¯s beneath the palace.¡± Ugh. Underground temples. The abode of death cults and other creepy, pustulant orders of spell-wielders. Shadow priests, too, though the ones she had fought had used a home above-ground. Her stomach fluttered, for at once she realized she had never thought to look underground at the lair of the Lords of Chaos. But perhaps the Chrysopteron¡¯s people were thorough when they destroyed the temple. ¡°Will I need anything in particular when I go there?¡± Mentally, Alia ran down a list of weapons and counterspells. ¡°Does anything ward the way?¡± ¡°Zephyra always wore her diadem. She carried a staff, like any other priestess, but when you seized her she left it behind in her bedchamber. Those items, the staff and the diadem, gave her right of entry into the temple.¡± ¡°Ahh,¡± Alia sighed. When she last entered Zephyra¡¯s chamber, a bloodthirsty drakaina barred the way. Killing the lone dragon-woman took entirely too long for her liking. Other horrendous arsh¡¯at?m roamed the citadel, and some of them might prowl about in packs. Before storming the citadel she and the rest of her cohort agreed to only concern themselves with the ones directly in their path. The rest they would leave to the care of the soldiers of Elamis. ¡°All right then,¡± Alia said. ¡°My gryphon can take me straight to Zephyra¡¯s balcony. But you, Sel¨¤na, must come with me.¡± Eloquent dismay was written all over Sel¨¤na¡¯s face, but Alia disregarded it. Higher priorities called to her. ¡°I doubt the staff and the diadem were all that allows right of entry into the temple,¡± Alia pointed out. ¡°It¡¯s Rahqu¡¯s temple¡ªand you¡¯re the vessel of the abyssal. Part of it is in you. That would be sufficient in itself to gain you entry in any place consecrated to the shade queen. Those other items are just markers of your office. They grant you authority over whatever guardian is there. Come.¡± Her tone brooked no refusal, and she kept her face an inscrutable mask, yielding no purchase for an appeal to pity. But then Sel¨¤na looked up, boldly locking gazes with Alia. ¡°I owe those victims the rites you would give to them. I will go.¡±
Sel¨¤na could not bring herself to speak. In silence she hugged herself, trying in vain to keep the cold at bay as she gazed out at the palace garden from her perch on Zephyra¡¯s balcony. Shame and fear nailed her feet to the floor, and she made no attempt to overcome her paralysis. Nothing deterred Ironwing. Not one word did she say to Sel¨¤na, except, ¡°get on,¡± when she mounted her gryphon, and ¡°get off¡± when they arrived at Zephyra¡¯s balcony. Cool, brusque, and taciturn, this huntress. Smoothly she dismounted her gryphon. In one fluid motion she unsheathed a strange weapon, a small gold dragon hugging a tube of ivory. Its tail projected up, in a manner that suggested it was movable, though Ironwing¡¯s hand rested on a handle below it. This must be one of the fabled Lyrcanian weapons. Did the dragon signal the use of fire? Ironwing¡¯s male companions carried longer versions, but theirs didn¡¯t have dragons. Perhaps something else came out of theirs. Ice? Lightning ¡ª no, the Rasena Valentian women wielded the power of lightning, with their lightning quivers. The exotic foreigners had shaken Zephyra by their very possession of the quivers. Only the giants were supposed to have them, yet the pair of seemingly soft gentry women had claimed them as spoils of battle. And could use them with deadly efficiency, as Optima Nuriel had done against a Manticoran Guardsman. Ironwing aimed her dragon weapon towards the door, and hesitated. Showy pink roses adorned a pair of wreaths fixed to the double doors separating the balcony from the bedchamber. Unlocked. The doors would be unlocked, for Zephyra never locked it. As the daughter of the Lord Protector, and the high priestess of the Greatest One, Zephyra feared nothing. With her free hand Ironwing eased open one of the double doors, enough to peer inside. Cautious. Taking her example, Sel¨¤na sheltered between the gryphon¡¯s eagle wings and lion flank. The paradox beast gave off heat, warming Sel¨¤na¡¯s somewhat, especially her back. It ruffled its feathers, but gave no indication of alarm. If something dangerous lurked near, surely the gryphon would sense it and cry warning? But the beast only squawked, and made no threat display. Whatever the huntress saw must have met her approval, because she flung the door open and strode inside, her green deerskin leather coat flapping about her legs. Not once did she look back at Sel¨¤na. Likely she didn¡¯t imagine Sel¨¤na would dare to stay behind, not after having demanded her presence. Sel¨¤na focused on her feet, shod as they were in simple raw leather sandals that exposed her toes. ¡°Move,¡± she told herself. But she didn¡¯t move. On her shoulders she carried the burden of Zephyra¡¯s actions. Such things that woman did! And by what means would Sel¨¤na undo them? Her own clothes underscored her insigificance: she wore a simple pale blue woolen caftan. Charity from one of the temple keepers. So plain and austere a garment insisted to any who saw it that she bore no priestly authority, whether divine or infernal. Of no consequence was she, of no rank was she. In her hands she wielded no staff of office. How, then, was she to do what Bessa wanted her to do? For that matter, how was she to do what Ironwing wished her to do? Only a month ago¡ªfor Sel¨¤na it was only a month ago¡ªshe had told Papa she wanted to be a sea lord like him. Sailing the high seas, visiting exotic ports, bringing back fabulous treasures. Papa had laughed and kissed her forehead, delighted in her wish to follow in his footsteps. He held her close to him as they gazed out at the horizon, where the setting sun glimmered on the waters of the Gold Sea. Warmed inside and out, Sel¨¤na had basked in his affection, feeling safe and loved in his strong arms. But Mama stood apart. The horizon stole all of Mama¡¯s attention, for she seemed to have eyes only for the sunset. Though she must have heard Sel¨¤na¡¯s cheerful prattle, she made no reply or objection. Perhaps she truly wasn¡¯t paying attention, for she only glanced back at her and smiled absently. A reminder, yet again, that her thoughts were elsewhere. Mama. Did you See that this would happen? Reflexively Sel¨¤na reached for her pendant. She froze, her hand hovering over her sternum, clutching only air. A cold wave of grief washed over her. As a child she had worn a locket, as other Rasena Valentian children did, an amulet of Amyntas. But like any other girl, Sel¨¤na abandoned the locket after her first bleed, when she no longer enjoyed the inherent protection of Amyntas. Instead, Papa gave her a new treasure, a pendant of abalone and mother-of-pearl carved in the likeness of a dolphin. A sweet trinket imbued with the blessing of the Sea Lord¡¯s priests. Truly Sel¨¤na treasured the necklace, and accustomed herself to clutching the little dolphin whenever she felt distressed or preoccupied. Sel¨¤na¡¯s stomach plunged. What had happened to the necklace? Now she moved, hurrying after Ironwing. Inside was no warmer than outside, for no one remained to bring firestones to Zephyra¡¯s chamber. Befitting her status as Amavand¡¯s ¡°daughter,¡± servants would bring her three stones in pretty ceramic dishes they would set in strategic locations about the room. The chill of winter never touched Zephyra¡¯s skin, except for when she chose to enter the balcony or the garden. The sumptuously appointed room was her sanctuary, where she reveled in being surrounded by ornamental ferns and fragrant flowers and luxuriant tapestries. For Sel¨¤na; however, the perfume from those flowers brought back yet more memories which taunted and tormented her. ¡°Get your things,¡± Ironwing said, breaking her reverie. The huntress looked about the room. She turned only once, to gaze upon the altar she had so ruthlessly destroyed with the lightning quiver. An altar to Rahqu now reduced to a stinking ash heap, which Sel¨¤na carefully avoided looking at. That she had been forced into worship of a belet ershetu ¡ª a queen of the underworld, as Mama¡¯s priests taught her¡ª still couldn¡¯t overcome the overwhelming shame she felt at having done so. Or the revulsion of her memories of what she had done in the name of that wicked abyssal. Even if she bathed herself in hyssop and vervain every day, twice a day, she couldn¡¯t be washed clean of that taint¡­could she? Let Zephyra and all she touched rot away. Except ¡­ the biting cold was starting to make her feverish. At once Sel¨¤na made her way to one of the cabinets lining the walls and flung them open. She kicked off her borrowed sandals and exchanged them for supple leather boots. Then she donned Zephyra¡¯s prized pashmina cape, dyed a fine baby blue. Lined with rabbit fur on the inside, and trimmed with silky blue fox fur on the outside, the cape imparted sufficient warmth to halt Sel¨¤na¡¯s shivering. She looked up to find Ironwing eyeing her, lips thinned in either disaproval or impatience. But she said nothing, and Sel¨¤na supposed the huntress did not intend for her to be oppressed by the elements. Not enough to object to her seeking a remedy for it, anyway. Time now, to obey Ironwing¡¯s command. Every heartbeat she tarried here was an unconscionable delay. Ironwing had come to give peace to the dead; Sel¨¤na owed it to them to speed her on her way. First Zephyra¡¯s staff of office, which rested in a stand with golden brackets to hold it in place. Immediately the staff¡¯s finial caught her attention: a wreath of belladonnas and opium poppies, whose tendrils formed the terminus points of the eight-limbed figure in the center of the wreath. ¡°What is that creature?¡± Ironwing asked, coming up behind her. ¡°A kind of chimera. Rahqu¡¯s servants. Her generals. The Rasena Valentians dealt with seven of them: Honoria Vartanian, Justin Kellis, Rozvan Lior, Faenus Escamilla. No wonder Amavand feared those women so. But Archelaos escaped. He reported in to Rahqu, who told Lord Protector Amavand. The sixth, Decius Galenus, was banished in the Battle of the Rhabdomachaeum on the Night of the Burning Sky. Murena was banished that night, too, in the Battle of Abris.¡± ¡°Hm. All seven of them in Rasena Valentis. And the eighth?¡± ¡°The Interceptor. The Rasena Valentians are calling it ¡®the Presence.¡¯ And keep in mind, there are other, lesser servants scattered about.¡± ¡°You mean Friya?¡± Sel¨¤na paused. ¡°Zephyra¡¯s handmaiden?¡± ¡°A shapeshifting spirit of deception.¡± Realization dawned. The lengths Rahqu had gone to! Even Zephyra had not suspected her handmaiden was other than human. Then again, even Zephyra would not have lightly passed over that small detail. ¡°Well, I wasn¡¯t thinking of Friya. I meant other humans and such in Rahqu¡¯s service. Teams in Lyrcania, a commander in the Rasena Valentian legions¡ªthose kind of servants.¡± Her hand hovered over the staff. No longer could she wield it with the pride or authority that Zephyra once did. Zephyra had exulted at her role as the Handmaiden of Rahqu, and as the heart of her father, lord of Elamis. Proudly the Handmaiden served her goddess, and took her duties seriously. Every part of her role received its share of deference and reverance from her.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Anger locked Sel¨¤na¡¯s jaws, making her clench her teeth so hard they ached. She snatched the staff from its place on the wall and tilted it so that the finial was eye level with her. ¡°By all that is good and holy I will see you broken and defeated,¡± she vowed. Turning, she started to charge forward then stopped abruptly, lest she crash into Ironwing. The priestess held her ground, unperturbed. Softly she replied, ¡°So let it be done.¡± Somehow, Ironwing¡¯s agreement with her sentiments emboldened Sel¨¤na to beg an indulgence from her. An indulgence which allowed her to search carefully through Zephyra¡¯s jewelry boxes and strong boxes and secret hiding places. But though she searched diligently, she failed to find the dolphin pendant. Likely Amavand, or Artostes, purposely destroyed it to ensure no memory of Sel¨¤na would resurface in the mind of Zephyra. Leaving Sel¨¤na with no token left to remember her true father by. Tears stung her eyes as she silently seethed. Below her breath Sel¨¤na prayed, ¡°Oh Destroyer, damn them all. Damn them. Damn them.¡± They returned to Ironwing¡¯s gryphon. At Sel¨¤na¡¯s word, Ironwing flew them to Lord Amavand¡¯s private garden. Only a day ago they passed this way, when Ironwing and her companions sought to close the shadow gate. Once again Sel¨¤na opened the secret passage. Though she led the way, she lacked Zephyra¡¯s confidence that nothing dwelling within those dark depths would rise up and slay them. Instead, fierce determination imbued her steps. If Rahqu¡¯s servants would come, let them meet their end at her hands. She glanced at Ironwing¡¯s weapon, which the priestess still openly carried. Well, death at Ironwing¡¯s hands then, because Sel¨¤na was not armed, of course. Who would trust her with a weapon? They descended the stairs. Down they went, deep into the bowels of the mountain. Torches did not light the way, but Ironwing carried a wand with her. Early on she had tapped it against the wall, and a bright nimbus of light flared. Here she took the lead, as she must, being the only one capable of handling the dangers ahead. Danger had not come their way by the time they reached the foot of the stairs. Heavy double doors greeted them. A huge bronze medallion covered the opening of the door, ensuring the door could not open while the medallion remained. The medallion was at least an inch thick, and heavy enough that the two women together would not be able to move it. The burnished metal bore no adornment, save for a strange pattern marking the outer edge. Ironwing stared at it a moment, then she ran her hand along the door posts. A memory flashed before Sel¨¤na¡¯s eyes, of Bessa Philomelos standing before the door to the royal nekromanteion. The Siluran warned them to be wary of doors with hidden posts and lintels. True to her warning, the nekromanteion¡¯s door frame had been defaced, allowing all manner of creatures to escape from Erebossa. Sel¨¤na studied the medallion. She recoiled, recognizing the pattern. Which was not a pattern, but rather an incantation in Rahqu¡¯s language. Memories flooded her, of Artostes schooling Zephyra in this language. Of Rahqu temporarily possessing Zephyra when she entered a trance, and speaking through her. ¡°We can¡¯t go in,¡± she said woodenly. Ironwing glanced back at her. To Sel¨¤na¡¯s surprise, the huntress regarded her with concern. ¡°What is it?¡± Sel¨¤na felt as if she were trapped in a mire, a whirlpool which could suck her down into infernal depths. She managed to find her voice. ¡°That medallion seals the doors. It won¡¯t unseal unless you command the doors to open. You¡­you must say the command in Rahqu¡¯s language.¡± Despair welled within her. Mama was a pious woman, and Papa a pious man. They had warned Sel¨¤na against falling in with sorcerers who spoke infernal languages. Speaking with the tongue of an abyssal was to place a weight on one¡¯s soul that would sink the Scales. The Destroyer would open the gates to the Abyssal Serpent for such a one. Ironwing astonished her again by sighing in relief. ¡°Oh, good. I thought we were about to have an actual problem.¡± Overwhelmed with bewilderment, Sel¨¤na stared at the back of the huntress, who now faced the door. ¡°By the Huntress I abjure you: back to your maker you go!¡± Ironwing¡¯s voice rang out with queenly authority, echoing against the walls. A green light flashed. Of course! Ironwing¡¯s medallion, an amulet of chrysoprase bearing a sigil of the golden eagle. Bright light flared, not enough to blind them but enough to make itself known. Before her eyes the door medallion melted, smoking and hissing as rivulets of liquid metal scarred the door. The door itself burst into flame, then dissolved to ash. Stepping over the heap, Ironwing passed the threshold. After a heartbeat, Sel¨¤na followed. Now a thick black mist beckoned, so deep a black as to be the very essence of darkness itself. Tongues of mist roiled over the women, swathing them in darkness so absolute that the women hastened to clasp their hands together¡ªthey could no longer see one another, though they stood shoulder to shoulder. The mist covered even the wand Ironwing was using to guide them, obliging her to put it away. Sel¨¤na swallowed. Her every exhale felt expelled from her nostrils, and her every inhale fell short of a true breath. Blood thundered in her veins as terror filled her belly, an awful truth dawning: to stand within the Void was to endure the seeping out of one¡¯s very life force. Quickly, Sel¨¤na ransacked Zephyra¡¯s memories, until one in particular came to the forefront of her mind. She stepped forward, and a heartbeat later Ironwing matched step with her. The priestess tightened her grip on Sel¨¤na¡¯s hand, and Sel¨¤na squeezed back. Stay with me! Though Sel¨¤na¡¯s lips formed the words, she didn¡¯t dare utter them aloud. Words did not vanish into the Void, as the empty mutterings of someone musing aloud while alone in a room. Something was listening. This much Zephyra had learned. With every ounce of force she could muster, Sel¨¤na struck the ground with her staff, announcing her presence. In a loud, clear voice she declared, ¡°Onto the path I walk, bearing the staff of Chaos, wielding a power of the one who calls herself the Greatest of All.¡± Were she Zephyra she would have said, I come bearing the staff of the Greatest of All. But Sel¨¤na could not bring herself to utter the lie with any conviction. Nothing happened. Ice water filled Sel¨¤na¡¯s belly as her fear grew. In Zephyra¡¯s hand the staff¡¯s finials would have alighted, letting her see the narrow and treacherous path through the void. But in Sel¨¤na¡¯s hands, the staff was only a large stick. She stepped back, Ironwing with her, until they once again stood beyond the threshold of the door. ¡°Staff of Chaos?¡± Ironwing¡¯s voice was soft beside her. As if she were worried they might rouse something out of the void before them. Already she put away her dragon weapon, but her free hand hovered over her dagger, which rested in its sheath at her hip. ¡°You called Rahqu a spirit of the Void. Well, this is the Void. Or a sliver of it. This bridge we stand on is between two, ah, planes of existence. The wind, the darkness, come from the Void, and this bridge is within Rahqu¡¯s home. According to Artostes, her staff is like a key, because it¡¯s an object of Chaos. Only an object not of the Cosmos can be used to navigate the Bridge of the Void.¡± ¡°An object not of the Cosmos, you say?¡± Bemusement tinged Ironwing¡¯s voice. And suddenly her voice changed, becoming more incantatory, as if she were reciting a poem. ¡°In Erebossa I walk in the Light, for I carry with me the Lightbringer¡¯s blessing, and where Her light shines, darkness must flee. For She illuminates our path that we may not stumble, and lights our way that we will not fall astray.¡± Ironwing¡¯s words had not quite faded away when, in the distance, a wisp of gold dawned. Faint at first, the wisp grew larger with every heartbeat, until it became a small nimbus no larger than either woman¡¯s fists would be. Small though it was, it blazed with the brightness of the sun itself. It hovered a few paces before them, revealing a trail beneath their feet. Subtle and narrow, the trail vanished into darkness several feet ahead. Awestruck, Sel¨¤na gaped at Ironwing. In the golden haze the huntress looked calm, as if she had expected such a miracle. Such faith made Sel¨¤na feel a trifle small, diminished. Why was she still looking at the world through Zephyra¡¯s eyes? Twice now Sel¨¤na had believed herself defeated, solely because she was relying on Zephyra¡¯s beliefs about what was true. Not on what she, Sel¨¤na Sideris, had once known. What her parents and their priests once taught her. Too much of Zephyra still lived within her spirit. I will kill you. I will root you out, I will scythe you down, if it¡¯s the last thing I do. Do you hear me, Zephyra? What part of Zephyra remained only answered her with a sardonic smile. Ironwing squeezed her hand again, her strength and warmth momentarily driving out recrimination and self-pity. Unwilling to speak, Sel¨¤na exchanged a nod with the priestess. Together they stepped forward onto the bridge. With every step the women took, the golden nimbus always remained three ahead. Focusing on the light steadied her, bolstering her courage as she traversed the bridge. At some point Sel¨¤na began counting her steps. On step three hundred and sixty-two, her courage began to falter. Fortunately, on step three hundred and sixty-eight the nimbus revealed another door. And its sentry. Slowly, as a sleeper might awaken, a pair of small, acid green orbs revealed themselves in the darkness. ¡°Oh!¡± The shriek escaped her lips before she could gather her wits. Since when did the door have a sentinel? Never on Zephyra¡¯s trips did she encounter anyone or anything. Then again, a sleeping al? would go unnoticed here, for the denizen of Erebossa possessed nothing other than eyes in the night-dark of its formless being. As Rahqu¡¯s servant, the al? would take no notice of Zephyra. As Rahqu¡¯s enemy, Sel¨¤na; however, caught the creature¡¯s attention. Or perhaps it was the priestess? The al?¡¯s eyes appeared to move forward. Was the creature approaching? A scream died in Sel¨¤na¡¯s throat, for Ironwing startled her by speaking aloud. ¡°I am Alia Ironwing, servant of the Huntress, protector of those born to man and woman. Who dares to challenge my path?¡± The al?¡¯s voice was more of a wheeze and a whine when it answered her. ¡°Challenge you I do not, huntressss.¡± It drew out the final syllables in a sibilant hiss. ¡°But thissss pretender, this falsssse one, this aposssstate issss my rightful prey. Keep me not from her!¡± The green orbs hovered closer now to the nimbus than before. Alia stepped forward, interposing herself between the Erebossan and Sel¨¤na. ¡°By the Huntress, this girl is under my protection. Get away from here. Begone!¡± Crashing thunder tore a scream from Sel¨¤na at last. Mists of the Void poured into her throat, chilling her from the inside out, and stealing her breath from her. She gasped, desperate to reclaim every shallow breath she could. Green lightning flashed around her, but she could barely take it in; her sight grew dim. Should the al? choose to, it could knock her into an eternal sleep. But Alia did not remain empty handed; having unsheathed her sacred knife she held it up now for the al? to see. ¡°You don¡¯t know who I am: I am the one who slew one of your kind not even one day ago. I destroyed many creatures of Erebossa at the gate of shadows. Will you be next?¡± Sel¨¤na fell to her knees, on the verge of passing out. The al?¡¯s reach was long, and tentacles of its shadowy form already encircled her. A thrill of terror rippled through her¡ªthe tentacles were tangible! The appendages looped tighter and tighter about her, binding her arms to her sides. She fell forward from her waist, and was much too far gone to care when her forehead kissed the Bridge of the Void. Raw, bitter cold lashed at her soul. Her limbs were innervated, their nerves tingling as if they had fallen asleep. She couldn¡¯t move ¡­ White lightning crackled in the edges of Sel¨¤na¡¯s vision. Suddenly, the tendrils slackened. When the al? spoke next, its voice sounded far off, as if it were moving away from them. ¡°You will not alwaysss be with her, huntressss.¡± ¡°Any time you wish to be destroyed, come and find me,¡± Ironwing shot back. The thunder and lightning ceased. And with them vanished the chilling oppressiveness of the Void. The acid green eyes of the al? were no longer to be found. Sel¨¤na sat back on her haunches, gasping for what air there was to fill her lungs. But it was not enough. Ironwing seized her hand again and hauled her to her feet. Sel¨¤na stumbled after her as the huntress charged ahead. The huntress threw open the door, opening onto a chamber that looked every bit as solid and real as a temple in Thuraia. Planting her feet in the threshold, Irongwing twisted at her waist. Like a discus thrower she flung Sel¨¤na inside, letting go at the last moment to avoid yanking her arm from its socket. Sel¨¤na landed hard on her hands on knees. Weakened, she sprawled out on the floor. Ironwing hastened inside, and shut the door fast behind herself. With hard eyes she surveyed the room, likely checking for any threats. Only her deep, sharp exhale suggested she might not be as calm as she appeared. Stale air, overlaid with a scent both bitter and cloying, did not deter Sel¨¤na from greedily gulping it in. After several moments she calmed herself, freed now from the danger of asphyxiation. She brushed off her knees and her palms as best she could, before rising stiffly to her feet. None too gentle, this Ironwing¡ªthough her actions lacked either heat or malice when she tossed Sel¨¤na into the room. So Sel¨¤na ignored her for the moment, and focused on the room instead. Which was not a room as such. It was a tomb. An altar, lacquered in congealed blood and dusted with ash, stood at the summit of a small pyramid. The pyramid, fashioned of black basalt, dominated the far end of the room. Darker black streaks marked the trail of blood left by the victims sacrificed the altar. A trail made as their bodies tumbled down the steps¡ªa trail that ended in the pit that yawned wide at the base of the pyramid. The bodies would land on a bronze platform at the base of the pyramid, a platform perfectly sized to accommodate an adult¡­though adults were not the only victims that had ever lain upon it. One memory came to Sel¨¤na then, of a youth. A youth whose name Zephyra had not troubled herself to learn. A devout, promising acolyte of the Huntress. His powers had waxed strong at the last spring equinox. Strong enough to allow him to sense the captive dryads Protector Amavand kept in the tower in the woods. The youth¡¯s pious zeal to free the tree nymphs doomed him to die by Zephyra¡¯s hand. He had been defiant. The young man¡¯s eyes were innocent as a doe¡¯s, but they had met Zephyra¡¯s glare boldly, forthrightly. ¡°The Huntress will see to you,¡± he cursed her, before she plunged her knife into his heart. His heart¡¯s blood lacquered the altar. One of Zephyra¡¯s servants captured enough blood for a rhyton full. But the boy did not yet die then. He was alive when he was cast down to the platform. It was there, on the platform, that he met his end. Already the bronze surface was as hot as any stove, for as with a hypocaust, a furnace rested below. Together with the furnace, the platform became a funeral pyre. Like other victims who had the misfortune of surviving a knife to the heart, the brave youth burned alive. Sel¨¤na¡¯s knees weakened. She trembled. No. No. O Aletheia, take these memories from me! But erasing her memories would be a falsehood, and the Truthsayer did not deal in such. A sweet, mournful note sounded. Ironwing. The huntress crossed her arms over her bosom and trilled another note. Evidently the gods had blessed her with a songbird singing voice, and she used it now to sing a threnody, a lament for the dead. Her gaze was fixed not on the abomination of the pit, but rather on the golden orb that had guided their steps. And once again, the One Who Lights the Way responded to the priestess. Golden filaments spun out from the orb. They moved too quickly for Sel¨¤na to keep count of them as they raced through the air, aiming straight for the pit. Charred bone fragments littered the pit. Golden light flared as each fragment was struck by the filament. As each thread found its target, a new thread formed, spreading out until it joined another. And another. Soon a network of golden threads formed over the pit. The empty spaces between the nets began to fill, until the net became a cloud. The cloud began to ascend. It formed a twisting column, from the floor to the ceiling. The top part of the column vanished when it struck the ceiling, even as the bottom part swirled up from the pit, until there was nothing left of the cloud. Ironwing¡¯s song ended then. She exhaled, with feeling. Her body sagged, and for the first time she looked smaller, more vulnerable. Sel¨¤na dared not speak, allowing the huntress to keep her silence. After a long moment, Ironwing turned to face her. Her expression was unreadable as she regarded the younger woman. ¡°Now they are at rest.¡± Chapter 6: A Strange New Quest Chapter VI A Strange New Quest In which they come to a fork in their path forward Night fell swiftly, and with it came the final preparations for their journey. The temple keepers allowed them the use of a small winter garden, kept warm as a fresh summer day. A long table held refreshments, and a small round table offered place settings for them to dine in style. Summer plants artfully arranged in the garden offered up several ingredients they would need for elixirs and unguents. Citrus trees, each in carved planter boxes lined the east and west sides of the garden. Down the center, a long, raised garden bed formed a boulevard. Its sinuously curving wall of enameled brick housed roses, starting with sunbright yellow roses at the beginning, ornate pink roses in the center, and swan-white roses at the end. Every so often benches lined the walls, hugging the curves. On one bench, beneath the yellow roses, sat five satchels with their flaps open. Bessa added one more satchel to the group, then she turned and saw Tregarde and Sheridan setting down a crate of supplies they¡¯d bought from supply shops in town. Last came Alia into the garden, bearing a small box in her hands. Only Sel¨¤na remained empty-handed, and she sat apart from the group on the bench nearest the showy pink roses. While Alia and Sel¨¤na laid unquiet spirits to rest in the shadow queen¡¯s lair, Bessa had gone with Edana to retrieve their goods from the inn where they originally stayed when coming to Elamis. After, they had visited an outfitter¡¯s store, and filled each of the satchels with goods they¡¯d obtained there. ¡°All right, let¡¯s get to it,¡± Tregarde said, clapping his hands. ¡°I said we need to travel in secrecy. And it¡¯s not just because we don¡¯t want to be tracked by arcana. Do you know the potential routes between Elamis and the high king¡¯s winter palace?¡± In her hand Bessa held a checklist, against which she inspected the contents of each satchel. The tone of Tregarde¡¯s voice made her suspect unwelcome news was forthcoming, and thus she sat down on an empty spot beside the last satchel. ¡°Is there something we should know about them?¡± she asked. ¡°None of the roads or towns have an aerie¡ªa temple aerie, not a gryphon aerie. I checked carefully, and between here and there we won¡¯t be within miles of any temple to the Huntress,¡± he answered promptly. He bent down over the crate and started rooting about for something inside. ¡°The problem with that is ¡­?¡± Tregarde held up a copper cannister. On the front, someone had affixed a label that said ash manna crystals in Pelasgian. ¡°I¡¯ll need to conserve my power. I can do great things when I can make regular offerings and such to the Huntress. Or when I can draw upon the power of the temple where the devout worship and make offerings and prayers. But the further I get from a temple, the less power I have to draw upon. The fewer altars where I can make sacrifices and offerings. Forget hecatombs, it¡¯s hard to make any offering at all when you¡¯re on the run. Understand me? When we get to the high king we¡¯re sure to see an aerie again. But we have to get to the high king.¡± A constraint Bessa never accounted for. Up until now, every sorcerer she dealt with was either garrisoned at a fortress ¡ª which always had shrines and temples, and the requisite sacrificial beasts ¡ª or were members of the Star Dragons operating within cities, where a shrine or temple could be found. It never occurred to her a sorcerer may not be able to work magic when he wished to. Add to this the Interceptor cutting off their access to the guardian spirits, and they would be acutely vulnerable during a perilous encounter. ¡°So what do we do?¡± she asked. Tregarde shook the cannister in his hands. ¡°We work smarter. I¡¯m going to dissolve some of these ash manna crystals and make a coating for weapons. We encounter an arsh¡¯at?m, you¡¯ll all be fixed to defend yourselves.¡± Sheridan pulled out a pouch, and emptied it into his palm. Out fell five gemstones. Two were yellow-green and glowed with a cat¡¯s eye sheen. One appeared to be gold-veined lapis lazuli, and two were a brilliant sky blue. ¡°Peridots, lapis, and aquamarine gems?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°Not at all, but you make it easier to explain what they are. Grandfather taught me about this kind of gem. He called them deceiver stones. They can look like any genuine gems, but they¡¯re not. When you grind them to powder and put them in food or drinks, you can play tricks with people¡¯s minds. Make them forget things, make them do things.¡± The young man held one gem pinched between his thumb and index fingers. He frowned at it, examining it with a critical eye. ¡°Umm. Do we want to do that?¡± A rare smile came to his lips. ¡°Not to those who mean us well, no. Here in the temple we¡¯re protected from the sight of enemy arcana. No scryer can see what we do. Outside the temple, when we¡¯re on the move, we can use this to fuel a type of shield spell. One that conceals our movements.¡± ¡°Ahh. That works well with our purposes,¡± Bessa noted. At the questioning look on his face, she added, ¡°Edana and I came here in Lady Nensela¡¯s carriage. In Urashtu she attached the imperial seal of Rasena Valentis. In Elamis we removed the seal, since the two empires are not at peace. The Star Dragons escorted us here. Suppose now we send the carriage ahead, as a decoy? We¡¯ll put the seal on, and the Star Dragons can take the carriage. They will appear to be in the open, which may keep enemy arcana at a sufficient distance. Enough so they don¡¯t realize we¡¯re not in the carriage. If you use your deceiver stone, our real movements won¡¯t be detected, either.¡± The plan sounded agreeable enough to everyone else, but from the corner of her eye Bessa saw Edana tense up. All during their shopping trip she seemed pensive, as if something weighed on her. Before she could ask her to speak aloud her thoughts, Alia approached Bessa and held out the wooden box. ¡°Put these in the packs you¡¯re making,¡± Alia said, removing the lid from the box. ¡°One each of these.¡± ¡°These¡± proved to be small phials made of the purest rock crystal Bessa had ever seen. Each phial contained a startling blue liquid she recognized. ¡°Did this come from Aletheia¡¯s spring?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°Guiless Fravak gave these to me. To be used in case of clarity,¡± Alia confirmed. ¡°Amavand¡¯s palace was riddled with deception. The high king may be surrounded by deceitful agents as well. A drop of this should cut through illusions. A swallow of it will dispel nonsense and lies.¡± She glanced at Sel¨¤na, living proof the latter claim. Into the packs they went, joining the medical kits and small firestones Edana had placed inside them previously. Satisfied the packs included everything on their list, Bessa began to close the satchels. As for Edana herself, she also stood apart, her hands clasped behind her back as she leaned against one of the tree planters. But she waited until everyone gathered around the dining table before she finally said, ¡°For now we have a shield of secrecy around us. What I¡¯d like to know is how Murena knew of us when we didn¡¯t have the shield. Same for the shadow queen. To what extent do the Erebossi know what we¡¯re doing? I do not understand them to be omniscient, but I don¡¯t want to make assumptions.¡± Having beaten her to the table, Bessa was already seated. The small feast arrayed before them arrested all of her attention, for the rumble in her belly reminded her she hadn¡¯t eaten in hours. What she took to be a strange golden cake would turn out to be steamed rice whose golden color came thanks to saffron. The had cook fried it in a pot and turned it upside down on a lovely ceramic plate. Alongside the rice, in a large pot, they found an intriguing mixture: quince stew, which Alia had requested. This Bessa was eager to try, primarily because she remembered the sweet quince the Flame Keepers had given to her and Edana in the viridarium of the Fire Lords. But also because the stew included dried plums, apricots, and lamb. An elegant silver jug held persimmon wine, aged from the previous year¡¯s crop. Alia selected the wine first, and began pouring it into Sheridan¡¯s cup. As she went around the table she said, ¡°A ghost warned me that Rahqu knows of me. A fellshade named Rihat knew about Murena battling someone in the West. Your battle, I would guess. And gloated about the imminent fall of his enemy. As I recall, you said the ¡®enemy¡¯ was your Nensela.¡± A small cry drew their attention. Their eyes all swung to Sel¨¤na, whose body went rigid in obvious shock. Seated next to her, Bessa immediately clapped an arm around the other girl¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Your mother still lives. Remember that. She¡¯s still alive.¡± Alia paused, holding the pitcher in one hand and Sel¨¤na¡¯s cup in the other. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I forgot Nensela was¡ªis¡ªyour mother.¡± But Sel¨¤na made no response, except to put her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook. Bessa patted her back and made sympathetic noises. ¡°You don¡¯t understand,¡± Sel¨¤na managed, after taking three shuddering breaths. ¡°A-Amavand¡ªhe told me¡ªhe told Zephyra¡ªthat three she-wolves took down Murena. That they instigated battle against him. You see? The prophecy against Amavand was that three women would destroy him. But Ironwing¡ªbut you didn¡¯t come from the West. I didn¡¯t realize¡ª¡± ¡°I see,¡± Alia said quickly. She finished pouring into Sel¨¤na¡¯s cup, and set it before her. The implications became clear. Obviously, a spy in Amavand¡¯s service told him of events in Abris on the Night of the Burning Sky. Particularly the events concerning Lady Nensela¡¯s actions. Encircled in Bessa¡¯s arms, Sel¨¤na began to compose herself. After a long pause, she continued. ¡°Amavand was in communication with certain, ah, personnel. The Ellatu, is what he called them.¡± ¡°Gagnon!¡± Edana interrupted. At once she cleared her throat. ¡°Ahem. My apologies. A man in league with the Sleepless Enemies called them the Ellatu as well. ¡®Sleepless Enemies¡¯ is how my father¡¯s people refer to the evil spirits that dwell in Erebossa.¡± ¡°I see. Evil spirits. All this time he was in league with evil spirits,¡± Sel¨¤na mused, in a low voice they almost couldn¡¯t hear. ¡°Did he know? Oh, gods!¡± She sat still, eyes wide in obvious shock. ¡°Bessa and I defeated three of them: Escamilla, Kellis ¡­ and Vartanian. An ally took down Lior, and a pegasus prime slew the host of Archelaos. Was he talking to them?¡± Edana asked. ¡°Archelaos? Amavand spoke to him in particular,¡± Sel¨¤na replied. ¡°Zephyra thought him nothing more than the governor of Urashtu. What was he really?¡± ¡°An eidolon. Someone possessed by a fellshade,¡± Bessa clarified, accepting her now-full cup from Alia. ¡°What did Amavand talk to him about?¡± ¡°The shahanshah. Come the summer, they were supposed to execute a pincer attack. Archelaos was going to lure the high king to Urashtu, because the high king covets that country. That¡¯s what Zephyra understood. And Amavand would attack from behind, with forces the king would not anticipate. On the eve of the night you call the Night of the Burning Sky, Archelaos, um, spoke to Amavand. Via a Sending. He wanted Amavand to rejoice with him, because Archelaos was going to defeat an enemy he called ¡®an interfering interloper.¡¯ He insisted that we¡ªAmavand and Zephyra¡ªwould have the wind at our backs once this hated she-wolf was dead. ¡®She¡¯s been getting in my way for far too long,¡¯ he said.¡± ¡°Lady Nensela,¡± Bessa said. ¡°It could only be her. But how did he know she was at Abris? The fortress where the battle took place?¡± ¡°For that matter¡ªLady Nensela¡¯s conclave was attacked when she met with the other seers in the Library of Kyanopolis. At the time they wondered how the Red Daggers knew to attack them, because they met during the night of the Dead Moon. How did they know to come there?¡± Edana wondered. A light came to Sel¨¤na¡¯s eyes. ¡°The conclave! Tell me¡ªwhen did this conclave happen? Was it last year, in the spring?¡± ¡°Yes¡­¡± ¡°Oh. Oh. So much makes sense now,¡± Sel¨¤na said. ¡°I will explain.¡± However, she waited until everyone filled their soup bowls, broke bread, and Edana said a prayer before she made good on her word. To start with, she said, the Ellatu were recruited to do Rahqu¡¯s bidding. Zephyra had believed them to be traitors, native to Rasena Valentis, and she took for granted their loyalty to Rahqu. ¡°Zephyra was devout. That anyone should be loyal to Rahqu was not something she questioned,¡± Sel¨¤na said. Furthermore, each of the Ellatu¡ªthe Five, as Bessa and Edana referred to them¡ªwas given a specific mission. Each of them also had specific abilities. ¡°The one that matters most in this context is Escamilla¡¯s: he could spy on one¡¯s dreams. A dream walker, which is what Zephyra understood him to be. But she was fascinated, because she thought that ability was lost with the Dreaming Trees on Amathis.¡± ¡°Zephyra¡¯s understanding was incomplete,¡± Edana said, lapping up a spoonful of soup. ¡°Escamilla is an al?, a kind of fellshade, not a sorcerer. And¡ªhe told me that he spied on my dreams! He said it! The night he attacked Bessa, he told me that he knew to hurt her, because of my nightmares. My own fears.¡± She lowered her gaze. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Bessa. At the time I didn¡¯t pay attention to what he said; I didn¡¯t realize I caused¡ª¡± Though memory of Escamilla¡¯s torments made Bessa¡¯s blood run cold, she kept her body from shaking. And mastered her voice, so there was no tremor in it when she said, ¡°You didn¡¯t. None of what he did was your fault. If I don¡¯t hold it against you, why should you? Let¡¯s focus on the point: if Escamilla can see people¡¯s dreams, might he have been hunting for people who had specific dreams?¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°He was,¡± Sel¨¤na said. ¡°That¡¯s what I was getting at. He told Amavand that a particular seer had dreamed of giants. A relevant dream because she was a seer, and because she was stationed in the Aerie, the Cloudwalk fortress. So he set mercenaries after her.¡± From the corner of her eye, Bessa noted Edana studying her, as if she detected the turmoil beneath her calm. However, aloud Edana said, ¡°Red Daggers. That¡¯s who attacked. And we know their leader was working with Murena.¡± ¡°Now we understand: A dream-hunting fellshade sifted through dreams, and sent people after the dreamers. Fellshades always seem to find the flesh-and-blood agents they require to operate amongst us. Fah! I helped an astral warrior destroy everyone in the temple of the shadow priests, and you two destroyed the Red Daggers. And Escamilla?¡± Alia sat back and tented her fingers. ¡°A demigoddess said we cannot truly destroy a fellshade, only bind them. But Escamilla in particular is in the custody of the Destroyer, so I think we¡¯re safe in that case,¡± Bessa replied. Edana added, ¡°Don¡¯t forget Lior was also sent to Yadon the Destroyer. Archelaos and Honoria lost their hosts. Kellis was banished.¡± ¡°Those particular generals are off the field of battle, which counts for much. They may have allies and foot soldiers lurking about, but Guileless Fravak told me Aletheia¡¯s temple is shielded from infernally-aligned arcana. ut they may have a multitude of allies and soldiers still lurking about. For now Then we may be safer even after we leave this temple. Perhaps. I have a way to protect our dreams, but I only have the one charm,¡± Alia said, lifting a fancifully carved bit of wood dangling from a chain around her neck. From what Bessa could tell, it was shaped like a sylph. ¡°We¡¯ll need more. Sheridan, I will require your help.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll have it,¡± he said. As her apprentice, the novice priest was best equipped to assist her. Though he appeared to be studiously focused on dinner, the young man was clearly keeping up with their talk. Edana cleared her throat. ¡°Ahem. If we will be blind to any infernal arcana, then I would like to propose a plan.¡± She stood up and went over to a medium-sized pouch she had left with her cloak on a hook by the door of the winter garden. When she turned to face the group, she hesitated. ¡°Edana?¡± Bessa asked. Would Edana now reveal why she¡¯d been so quiet and distracted all day? ¡°Before you and I came to Elamis, I went with Ziri, back to Kyanopolis. It was just to get some silver from my shop, to aid my cover. But I found something else waiting for me when I went to my room at Lady Nensela¡¯s house.¡± She pulled a square of parchment from the pouch. A letter, which she began to read aloud. Dear Edana, Be not alarmed. By now you know that the Seeker alone does not give me prophecy, and it was She who told me to expect to hear from Another. Though I know not with whom I am dealing, I do know that I trust the Seeker. I ask that you trust me. On this sash you will find many coins. They all have this in common: they were minted in nations that no longer exist. But only one of them concerns you: Zanbil. In Elamis you will find a door to lost places. Through that door you must go. To Zanbil. Edana stopped there. All eyes were locked on her as she reached into the pouch and pulled out bundle of violet cloth. As she unfurled it, it proved to be a sash which clinked and tinkled with the sound of the many coins dangling from its trim. Bessa recognized it at once. Lady Nensela wore it the day they had all rode into Kyanopolis together. On that day she had warned Edana to keep her guards about her. On that day, the Red Daggers attacked Edana¡¯s shop. And on that day, Lady Nensela taught her the meaning of having faith in one¡¯s friends¡­ ¡°Zanbil?¡± Alia¡¯s eyes were wide. ¡°A coin from Zanbil?¡± ¡°By the gods, this Lady Nensela is one of those old Ta-Setians, isn¡¯t she?¡± Tregarde exclaimed. He let out a low whistle. ¡°I hear tell Zanbil fell during the Fourth Cataclysm. About four-hundred and fifty years ago, if I reckon true. Bragging rights go to the one who has anything from there.¡± But Sel¨¤na was transfixed. She rose from her chair and went over to Edana. Silently, she locked eyes with her, and in response Edana proffered her the sash. Sel¨¤na took it. Reverently, she fingered the coins. ¡°Mama wore this often. Before I would go to bed at night, she would tell me stories about places she had been. People she once knew ¡­ she told me she had been to a floating city. I thought it was the most wondrous thing in the world. Mama knew, and has seen, so many wonders.¡± Sel¨¤na brought the sash up to her nose, and inhaled. Silence descended. Bessa swallowed hard as Narsai¡¯s warning echoed in her mind: What is sure is that Abominations such as Sel¨¤na are not permitted to exist in our world. Must Sel¨¤na die? Such a cruel fate, for an innocent child who had been stolen from her family. Twisted, corrupted, into becoming as evil as Zephyra had been. When Sel¨¤na had returned with Alia from visiting Rahqu¡¯s temple, she had looked so shaken. Then she became withdrawn, her eyes haunted. And she had shied away from her own reflection when they passed through the mirror mosaic in the Great Hall of the temple. Whatever the women had seen in Rahqu¡¯s temple, Sel¨¤na would not speak of it. The dead are at peace, was all Alia herself would tell them. But the living were not. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of Zanbil,¡± Sheridan spoke up. The taciturn priest was not one for idle words, but Bessa latched on to his implied question. ¡°I thought it was a fable myself,¡± she said. ¡°A city floating in the clouds. But I didn¡¯t know it was real.¡± Sel¨¤na fingered the coins on her mother¡¯s sash. One by one, until she came to a particular coin. In the light of the glowlights overhead, the silvery white coin shimmered with the colors of the rainbow. No coin of any realm was struck with so precious a metal in this age. ¡°Moonbow steel. Mama told me Zanbil was so fabulously wealthy that they minted their coins with moonbow steel. You could only enter Zanbil if you had something of comparable value to just one coin. Not jewels or baubles, nothing so common as those would do. But Mama gave up a bottle of wine from Amathis. Oh, where is that coin?¡± Faster she flicked through the coins dangling from the belt, until she found one thin piece. Fascinated, Bessa came over to see it. Like Zanbil, Amathis was also lost to legend. Rather than a round coin, Amathis had used an electrum dodecagon¡ªtwelve-edged circle. On one side a sailing ship, and on the other side a portrait bust of a king. The doomed kingdom had been a mighty sea power, until they provoked the wrath of the Sea Lord by neglecting to make offerings to Him. However, Sheridan was focused on another matter. ¡°When you say Zanbil fell, do you mean it was conquered? Or that it literally fell out of the sky?¡± ¡°The latter,¡± Alia replied. ¡°I know of this place. My own mother and my aunts spoke of it. I think we should go there.¡± ¡°To what end? What was in Zanbil? Wouldn¡¯t all of it be destroyed, in ruins?¡± Sheridan asked. ¡°More to the point, how would it help? Edana, does Lady Nensela¡¯s letter say more?¡± Bessa asked. Edana cleared her throat and resumed reading.
I know it seems a strange idea. Even I don¡¯t know what to expect there now. But I do believe that only a god or a goddess can give a prophecy, and thus I obey. As I said, what there is now of Zanbil is not known to me. But what was¡ªof that I shall write to you, to be of service in your hour of need. In Zanbil there lived sorcerers famed for their knowledge of spellcraft. Tekmagi they also boasted, and formidable ones at that¡ªthe machines they created had no peer. The sphinx animachina that guard my estate came from there. So great were their animachina that Zanbellians made no use of flesh and blood slaves. All work was done by animachina, or by enchanted objects. Imagine a plow moving on its own, or a broom sweeping the floor by itself. Such was mundane, to a household in Zanbil. You will wonder: how did the city float? That, too, was a focus of my inquiries. And therefore comes the reason I think you may want to go there: Moonbow steel can be alloyed. Not with the precious metals relatively common to us, such as gold and silver. But with dragonsteel. With star metal¡ªthat which falls to us from the stars themselves. Combining these elements with a potent spell yields the asmani stone. Heaven stone. This stone, and yet another spell kept the city afloat. But with another kind of spell, so the said the sages to me, you can make a Gate stone. A portal to distant lands. To distant worlds, though I did not believe this at the time. One thing more: I said once that I cannot read the words on the Karnassus Gate. Or any other Gate, for that matter. But I know what they say, because a Zanbellian sage recorded their meaning, when first a master builder of Athyr-ai created the spell. The group of tekmagi who founded Zanbil came from Athyr-ai. Gatecraft is recorded in the lore scrolls of Zanbil¡¯s sages. One of their number translated the Gatespell to me. There was no harm in it, he believed, for I am no sorceress. Nor do I possess an asmani gemstone. Long I have believed the giants are coming through a Gate that once was known, and now is not. Wherever it might be, the people of Zanbil will know. Be warned, Edana: I lack certainty on why I am commanded to send you to Zanbil. But know that whatever the gods¡ªyour god or mine, or one unknown to either of us¡ªwhatever is meant for you and our friends, you will take with you my hope that we avert the evil the giants bring with them. I pray for your success. May we meet again, Nensela of Ta-Seti
Edana¡¯s breath caught at the end. Bessa whistled. Gate stones? Heaven stones? Such remarkable ingenuity the Zanbellians possessed! Something stirred in her, thoughts of what she might do with a Gate stone. Somehow she must obtain one for Silura. No one had made any more Gates since the Fourth Cataclysm, when the Tartessian Gate and the Pelasgian Gate were destroyed. Silura had never achieved the construction of a Gate, but if Bessa provided a Gate stone she might usher in a golden age for her homeland. This would fulfill her obligation ¡ª instilled by Grandmother ¡ª to bring prestige to her nation, derided as a backwater by others in the empire. Trade, cultural exchanges, what glorious paths she would open for her people! Well and good ¡­ but the desire burning in her heart now was to find smaller stones for a in-home portals. With three stones she could connect her future home with Grandmother¡¯s vineyard, and her mother¡¯s family. Undoubtedly Lysander would want a fourth, to connect his family¡¯s estate to their future household, so she must allow for the possibility. But absolutely she must have a fifth stone, to connect Edana¡¯s future home to hers, so they would never be parted again. ¡°Do you understand what this means?¡± Bessa¡¯s voice rose with excitement. ¡°In his manuals, my father mentioned studying the Gates. He was certain their construction is beyond any power we have now. Everyone who spoke of Papa described him as having the breath of the gods in him, because he was so masterful an artifex. And yet he thought Gates were beyond his abilities. Now it all becomes clear. And if we go to Zanbil, we may learn how to make Gates, and this time we can make sure the knowledge is not lost.¡± Sheridan pushed back his now-empty bowl of stew, and folded his arms over his chest. ¡°Alright, I understand why she might tell us to go to this fabled city. But I notice the letter doesn¡¯t say how to get back from there. And we know we have an immediate threat here, with the high king. We know how to get to him. We know he has the key to the simurghs, which Rahqu is after. It doesn¡¯t sound urgent to go to Zanbil. Should we not tackle this threat first, and then go to Zanbil?¡± Alia cocked her head at him. ¡°Sound urgent? But a god commanded it. To you, why would that not rank higher on the priority list?¡± Sheridan paused. Bessa eyed him, curious. The huntress had a point: gods did not send mortals on random, arbitrary missions. That one should give a mission now, let alone at all, should weigh heavily on their priority lists. Finally the acolyte huntsman answered, ¡°Look, I will take this Nensela¡¯s word for it that a god gave her this command. A god she does not know. To give to Edana. However¡ªthis is not the command of the Huntress. Surely it would have been passed to you, if so, Ironwing. But that¡¯s just it. You were given no such command. Your oath revolves around protecting your grove, and it looks to me that protecting the simurghs is an extension of that. Since the queen abyssal wants to reach the haoma, anyway. That¡¯s exactly the kind of threat that you, and I¡ªand Tregarde¡ªare meant to deal with.¡± ¡°The youth¡¯s got a point,¡± Tregarde said. Indeed. Bessa shifted her weight on her feet, uneasy. Divine guidance had not come to Alia, except what her aunt Nalini had told them regarding Zephyra: Return her to her purpose. Or at least, turn her from the purpose of destroying the dryads. But Lady Nensela had been given the command by a god, to tell Edana to go to Zanbil. Edana, she who devoutly worshipped the Sower, and acknowledged no other as a deity. No henotheist, she¡­but she did trust in Lady Nensela. On which side would she land, on the line between delaying a trip to Zanbil, and accompanying Alia to the high king of Anshan? ¡°So you¡¯re going to split up, then?¡± Sel¨¤na asked. She had angled her neck to read Edana¡¯s letter. Inwardly, Bessa noted that not one word in the precious parchment even hinted Sel¨¤na¡¯s mother knew of her, or thought of her. Every morsel of affection was for Edana, for the sake of their friendship. To Bessa this simply meant Lady Nensela did not foresee Edana meeting Sel¨¤na. But would Sel¨¤na take it hard? Edana closed her eyes and rocked on the balls of her feet. Softly, she exhaled, but made no other sound. Having no words of wisdom to untangle the threads pulling at Edana, Bessa decided silence was her best course. The thought of splitting up made a pit in her stomach. In so short a time she had come to count on the protection of the servants of the Huntress. ¡°Splitting apart may be necessary, if these tasks must be done concurrently,¡± Alia replied. ¡°Is it a good idea, though, to separate? Strength in numbers.¡± Sel¨¤na sounded nervous. Rahqu¡¯s hand reached for her, after all. Would the shadow queen lightly tolerate the defection of her chosen vessel? More to the point, Edana¡¯s prayer saved Sel¨¤na from the shadow hand; incentive enough for Sel¨¤na to remain with her. But only Sel¨¤na¡ªas Zephyra¡ªcould get them right of entry before the high king. ¡°All I know is what we¡¯re assigned to do,¡± Sheridan insisted. Tregarde said, ¡°But are these goals mutually exclusive?¡± ¡°What we lack is time,¡± Bessa admitted. ¡°Six months until the summer solstice. If you fly to the high king, there¡¯s no worry about roads and mountain passes being closed off because of snow. Winter is here. Back home, winter closes off the seas.¡± ¡°And we don¡¯t know where Zanbil is,¡± Sheridan reminded them. Edana opened her eyes. ¡°But we know we are in Elamis. Somewhere here is a door to lost places.¡± She turned to Sel¨¤na. ¡°The portal in the park that takes people to the citadel¡ªis that the only place it can take people? Can it go to other locations?¡± Sel¨¤na shook her head. ¡°Not from what Zephyra knew.¡± ¡°But nevertheless, a door is here. I can see the value in going to Zanbil, because it may tell us where the giants are. Perhaps even how to do undo the Gate they might come through. That is worth something, in itself,¡± Edana said. ¡°¡®May.¡¯ ¡®Perhaps,¡¯¡± Sheridan noted. ¡°And if you are trapped there?¡± With a flick of her wrist Edana straightened the parchment in her hands. Yet she kept her eyes on Sheridan as she folded it, precisely, into a neat square. ¡°I do not dabble with foreign gods. But when I stand before the Sower, what defense can I make to Him, if I refuse Lady Nensela¡¯s command? You see, until recently she only received prophecies from the Seeker, but I know the Sower also gives prophecies, to His own people at least. A voice unknown to Lady Nensela gave her a prophecy; how do I know it was not the Sower¡¯s voice?¡± Her answer evidently caught Sheridan off guard, for his mouth opened, but no sound came out. Then, ¡°I was not aware of this. About the Sower, I mean. Not that it matters, what I know of Him. I only know the precepts and ways of the Huntress. And I know my own oaths, and I don¡¯t see a way to make the Zanbil mission fit into the duty to protect the simurghs.¡± Edana shrugged and tucked the letter back into her satchel. ¡°What the Sower asks me to do, I will do. Your quest and mine may diverge. Talking and debate will get us nowhere. I will seek my priests, come the dawn. And you?¡± Bessa¡¯s lips curved. Sheridan was a priest in training, and Alia was a full-fledged priestess of the Huntress, so of course they would perform whatever rituals to Her that would yield up Her counsel. Sheridan¡¯s head bobbed. ¡°I will consult the Huntress.¡± Now Alia rose from her chair. ¡°We have much to sleep on. So sleep well, all of you.¡± Through the glass walls of the winter garden, the stars twinkled down at them. Dawn would be long in the coming. Too long, whispered a small voice in the back of Bessa¡¯s mind. Too long indeed. Chapter 7: Escape from the Tower Chapter VII Escape From the Tower In which they choose their path In her bedroom¡ªor prison chamber¡ªSel¨¤na fretted as she went about preparing for bed. Where did her duty lie? Should she choose Ironwing or the Silurans, if the groups diverged? Over and over she pondered the letter her mother had written to Edana. Edana. Envy and jealousy reared up in her heart. Pushing it back down took effort. Who was this girl, anyway? Why had she had the benefit and comfort of Mama¡¯s love and care, while¡ª ¡°While I murdered innocent people as an abyssal¡¯s lackey,¡± she said bitterly, voicing her thoughts at last. Alone now, she let herself collapse to the floor. The memory of murdering the young huntsman overtook her. His innocence. His valor and defiance, his faith that Zephyra was due divine punishment¡ªall of these haunted her. Sel¨¤na raised her palms, examining them. Clean and unremarkable. Blood on your hands. Isn¡¯t that what people said, to speak of guilt and transgression? Guilt that could not be washed away by mere water? Who was that young huntsman? What was his name? Who was his family? What restitution could she make to them? To any of her victims? To her parents? ¡°Oh, Mama,¡± she wailed. To think she had stood there, pleased and triumphant when the eidolon more or less told her¡ªtold Zephyra¡ªthat he was going to kill Mama. And now, thus saith Bessa, Mama lay in an endless sleep. In such a state she could not hold Sel¨¤na. Could not stroke her head and soothe her with lullabies, nor speak remedies for her hurts. While Mama slept, it was possible to imagine her doing these things ¡­ ¡­ So long as she slept. Joy and triumph lay in store for the Rasena Valentian women when Mama awakened. They would embrace her and they would rejoice. They would bask in her approval and love. All of this Sel¨¤na would surely witness. Then her mother would see her, and would make plain her delight. Until she looked into Sel¨¤na¡¯s eyes. Into her soul. She would know. Begone from my presence, child. No more shall I know you. ¡°Let me die! O gods, grant me death!¡± Better to die than to witness the exact moment Mama¡¯s heart broke. Better to die than to watch as the light of love vanished from her eyes. Not that death would be the end. How could it be, when Zephyra must pay? And as she existed within Sel¨¤na¡¯s body, Sel¨¤na would have to pay, too. What could she answer Yadon the Destroyer, when she came to stand before Him? Would He not simply examine her life and send her forthwith to the Abyssal Serpent? Bear that she must, but at least in death she would forever escape having to face Mama or Papa. After all, Mama would never die. And Papa dwelled now in the Everlasting Lands. If you changed your allegiance to the Restorer, you can undo what you did. The Siluran¡¯s words echoed in her consciousness. Bitter laughter escaped Sel¨¤na¡¯s lips. ¡°Silly girl. Silly, silly girl. As if I could undo death! As if I would ever be so blessed!¡± Fervent, devout, righteous Ironwing had not resurrected the huntsman, nor anyone else. Of course she could not, as a huntress. But were she a Restorite, and stood on the doorstep of the summer solstice, she might have raised him. Even so. Even so. To match Ironwing¡¯s ability to call upon divine aid was far beyond her capacity to imagine. The redemption Bessa dangled before her would never be hers to reach for. With this fact lodged firmly in her heart, Sel¨¤na curled herself into a ball on the rug, and sobbed until sleep took her. Darkness surrounded her when she awakened. Stiff and aching, her body cried out in consequence of her subjecting it to the cold, hard stones. The thin rug between her and the floor provided no protection at all. ¡°Ahhh,¡± she moaned, forcing herself to sit upright. The trouble was, her entire right side tingled, like a limb coming to life. And her back screamed at her every movement. She could see nothing. As a prisoner, Aletheia¡¯s temple keepers gave her no further courtesy than what they absolutely had to. Thus, she remained in darkness, for no one thought she needed a glowlight or a lamp stand. The roaring fire that warmed her when she returned from dinner had now burned out. Undoubtedly the keepers thought she would be in her bed, under piles of blankets, like a sensible person. They would not trouble themselves to attend to her fire. Fair enough. Fair enough. It was her fault she was shivering and aching now. At least the feeling had returned to her legs, so she would be able to safely get to her feet. She ought to climb into bed¡ª Something was watching her. Hair stood up on the back of her neck. Memory returned, of the al? on the Bridge of the Void. The thing had demanded her. Only Alia Ironwing¡¯s protection had saved her from the fiend¡¯s attack. But the wicked were the rightful prey of the Erebossi. Weak, exhausted, Sel¨¤na¡¯s mind and body already felt spent. Defeated. She thought of the huntress, of her cool authority as a servant of the divine, and how aptly she wielded her authority. Ironwing would not sit patiently for her own destruction to arrive. Nor would that girl, Edana, who had stood fearlessly against Amavand and prayed with such confidence when they were besieged in the Void-vault of the echomancers. But those women were untainted. They didn¡¯t deserve to be punished. ¡°Do your worst,¡± Sel¨¤na said, speaking into the darkness. Steeling herself, she crossed her arms over her chest, and was jolted by the clink of the bracers that bound her to the world of the living. Oh. Right. Death magics, death powers, nothing of the kind would work on her. Yet still she wondered, what was in the darkness with her? ¡°Betrayer¡­¡± The inhuman rasp sent shudders through her body. Truly, she was not alone in the dark! Then the word penetrated her consciousness: Betrayer? At last alarm bells rang in her mind. Rahqu wants her vessel back! Whatever that bitch queen wanted, she should not be permitted to have. Even Zephyra thought as much, in the end. Galvanized, Sel¨¤na scrambled to her feet. Which way to turn? Would she blunder into an arsh¡¯at?m? ¡°Betrayer¡­¡± From behind. The voice came from behind ¡­ where Zephyra¡¯s staff rested in a corner. The detestable staff could not be left just anywhere, so Sel¨¤na had reluctantly brought it with her, hoping to formally destroy it in a fire. What she¡¯d never noticed before about the staff were the flower bud vines that snaked about the wreath, and terminated into two opposing vines curving inward, in a heart shape. The bud on each vine glowed red. Like a pair of eyes. Without thinking, Sel¨¤na fled for the door, her arms outstretched. She struck the heavy oak. Frantically, she felt for the knob. Only it wasn¡¯t a knob, but more of a swash or sweep of metal, which she firmly yanked down. The door swung wide open. Cold air blasted her. Strange shapes greeted her. ¡°Hellllppp!¡± she cried out as loud as she could. The oppressive presence behind her came closer. In the darkness two bulbous, sickly yellow eyes bearing elliptical pupils hovered over her. Acute terror yawned open in her stomach. ¡°Amyntas¡ª¡± Sel¨¤na¡¯s throat closed, choked by her tears. The Protector of Innocents would not help her. She was on her own. Utterly alone. The shapes in the hall remained stationary. Only one thought dominated: deny Rahqu what she wanted. To her astonishment, Sel¨¤na¡¯s slippers touched dirt the moment she stepped outside of her room. Not stone tile. Dirt. Oh, by the gods! This was a dream. Knowledge which helped her not at all, for the al? could stalk her dreams¡­ By her own will a faint light bloomed. Allowing her to see that the strange hideous shapes were nothing more than hedges of blackthorns, lining a country lane. An unfamiliar lane, but what did it matter? With one hand on the door handle, Sel¨¤na dashed out, allowing her momentum to slam the door shut behind herself. Could she control any part of this dream? Would the door bar a fellshade in her dreams, when it could do no such thing in real life? ¡°Please,¡± she cried out. Again she silenced herself, again remembering that she was damned. Beyond any celestial aid at all. Onward she ran. Only once did she chance to look back. The shape undulated in her doorway. It was moving, and would come for her. Tentacles shot up through the soil, lashing at her legs. ¡°What?!¡± Stung, shocked, Sel¨¤na locked her jaw and kept running. She dodged, slid, and scrambled always to stay one step ahead of the nettlesome appendages. In her haste she stumbled, and reached out, trying to catch herself from falling. She howled, discovering too late that she had unwittingly grasped a thick rope of thorns from the blackthorn hedge. For too many heartbeats she panted in pain as waves of agony overtook her. Quickly, she grit her teeth and picked up her pace. The second time she stumbled, she did not crash to the ground. The ground vanished, replaced now by an icy-cold abyss. ¡°Nooooooooooo!¡± There was not even wind here to buoy her, or batten her about. Long she fell. And fell. And fell. When finally she slammed into the bottom, every bone in her body shook. She couldn¡¯t even gasp; the breath had been knocked out of her. ¡°This is a dream. Get up. Get up.¡± But her limbs were again innervated, and she could not move them. Tears ran down her face. The ground rumbled. Any moment now, the tentacles would emerge. And she could not move. ¡°Wake up. Wake up. Wake. Up!¡± Suddenly, a brick smacked her face. Sel¨¤na¡¯s eyes flew open. And slammed down again, blinded by a bright light. Pain seized her as she turned her head. Specifically, her left cheek throbbed. Gingerly she probed it, checking for damage. ¡°The brick,¡± she tried to say, but the words came out garbled. ¡°Sorry,¡± said a voice. ¡°I hope I didn¡¯t hurt you. You wouldn¡¯t wake up.¡± It took a moment for the words to make sense. And another to recognize the speaker¡¯s voice. Oh. Her. The Eitanite woman. Edana Nuriel. A woman of few words, who spared even less for Sel¨¤na. But what little she first said to Zephyra had changed everything. ¡°I¡¯ve moved the light, Sel¨¤na. Open your eyes.¡± Bessa. Had to be; she shared Edana¡¯s strange accent, but with a different timbre ¡­ and she was the only one who showed her unreserved kindness. Sel¨¤na obeyed her, in time to see Bessa step past her and set her glowlamp on the bedside table, illuminating the room. Now she saw Edana kneeling over her, the linen night dress she wore pooling around her on the floor. She looked down at Sel¨¤na, her head cocked, and her lips pursed with concern. Naturally so, because Sel¨¤na was still on the rug, not in her bed. True to her dream-self, her body ached with the pain of having slept on a stone floor. Because of this, she accepted Edana¡¯s help in sitting upright. That was when she noticed Ironwing standing in the doorway, sacred dagger in hand. Arrayed in a Lyrcanian style, she made a striking figure in her blue silk trousers and wide-sleeved tunic, belted at her waist with a yellow sash. She fixed a hard, bleary-eyed stare on Sel¨¤na. ¡°What was your nightmare?¡± Edana asked. ¡°More than a nightmare,¡± Ironwing said. ¡°What happened to her hand?¡± Her hand? Sel¨¤na glanced down. Pain lanced through her, shooting from her right hand to her shoulder. What¡ª? Blood smeared her palm. Blood that issued forth from several punctures. The blackthorn fence. Sel¨¤na gasped. Bessa dropped to her haunches and seized Sel¨¤na¡¯s hand as she called for the slave girl. Until that moment Sel¨¤na had not noticed the fifth girl in the room, who was rekindling the fire in the brazier. Her eyes were wide as she stared at them. ¡°Fetch me water boiled with vervain and yarrow. Bring clean bandages as well,¡± Bessa commanded. The girl hurried to obey. Edana and Bessa seized Sel¨¤na¡¯s arms and helped her to stand. Between the two of them they got her into bed, with Bessa virtually cocooning her into the blankets. Once she was satisfied Sel¨¤na was settled, Bessa repeated Edana¡¯s question. ¡°What did you dream?¡± Sel¨¤na sat motionless. For a long while all she could do was shiver and stare at her hand, until at last her voice returned to her. In a quiet, dull tone she described her endless flight from the creature that relentlessly pursued her. The others gave a start when she mentioned grabbing the blackthorn fence. By the time she wound down the tale of her ordeal, and answered every question put to her, the slave girl had returned. The girl carried a tray bearing a steaming bowl of boiled water infused with herbs. Next to the bowl was a stack of fresh linen cloths, plus a mortar and pestle, and jars of ointments. Without a word she set them down on the table at the foot of Sel¨¤na¡¯s bed. Bessa immediately set to work. First she took one bolt of linen and soaked it in the water infused with yarrow and vervain. Then she extracted it, wrung it out, and began to wipe and daub the medicine into the puncture marks on Sel¨¤na¡¯s hand. Her touch was gentle, so Sel¨¤na bore it with as much graceful stoicism as she could.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Looks like no thorn pieces are embedded. That¡¯s good, at least,¡± Bessa said. ¡°Why did the dream wound her in this world?¡± Edana asked. The mortar contained yarrow leaves, which she began grinding with the pestle. Beside her, Ironwing was examining a bottle of ointment. She uncorked it and sniffed. ¡°Aloe vera,¡± she said, and set it closer to Edana on the tray. ¡°Perhaps the dream didn¡¯t wound Sel¨¤na. Possibly she did it herself, with her own fingernails. Dreams can be influenced by what we hear¡ªor do¡ªas we sleep. Check your nails, Sel¨¤na. If your flesh is beneath them, there is your answer.¡± The leaves crackled as Edana rocked the pestle back and forth over them. ¡°Fellshades can¡¯t harm us through our dreams?¡± A question Sel¨¤na wished to have answered as well. Could she have hurt herself? The idea was preferable to the alternative. But when she studied the fingernails on her wounded hand, she found no flesh beneath them. ¡°Not directly, no,¡± Ironwing replied. ¡°But I can¡¯t swear that a susceptible individual might not be made to harm themselves. And, sometimes it happens that an Erebossan can hurt you while you sleep, and you dream of what it¡¯s physically doing to you. But Sel¨¤na was alone when we came in.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve already faced incorporeal monsters before, so it means nothing to say she was alone,¡± Edana countered. ¡°The moving eyes sounds like an al?, and it probably went back to Erebossa. And the tentacle monster? Was that a fiction of Sel¨¤na¡¯s imagination?¡± Ironwing looked straight at Sel¨¤na. Her calm expression was oddly soothing. But why wouldn¡¯t she feel calm? After all, even the al? had not moved Ironwing to fear. If the huntress was not afraid, then Sel¨¤na would stay calm, too. ¡°You¡¯ve seen it before, haven¡¯t you?¡± Ironwing asked. ¡°Yes,¡± Sel¨¤na admitted. With a spoon Edana scooped a few drops of the boiled yarrow and vervain water into the mortar. Then she took a bottle of the aloe ointment and tapped a few drops into the mortar, and mixed the liquids with the crushed yarrow. As she did so, Ironwing unrolled more linen, spreading it out on the tray. Ironwing explained, ¡°Rather, Zephyra saw it. It¡¯s Rahqu. The coldness you felt in the dream was her trying to leech your soul.¡± In the midst of scooping up the yarrow paste Edana froze. ¡°Great Sower save us.¡± She visibly swallowed, then squared her shoulders and began using the pestle to spread the paste at one end of the square of cloth. ¡°Ready,¡± she said to Bessa. Her hands were steady as she held it out for the Siluran to take. Sel¨¤na remained quiet. The Sower, or Amyntas¡ªeither god might save Edana and the others, but even in her waking life she could not bring herself to hope He would save her. But if she remained with them, she might be saved by extension. As she knew it would, the poultice felt soothing on her wound as Bessa began to bind up her hand. Now came the kindness of Edana: because she had used warm water, the blue-green paste did not add to the uncomfortable chill that made Sel¨¤na shiver. Thump. Bang. Boom! Something crashed against the window. Bessa flinched, but otherwise concentrated on wrapping the yarrow poultice around Sel¨¤na¡¯s hand. Ironwing¡¯s grip tightened on her weapon, but only Sel¨¤na cried out. For a moment she felt sheepish, and lowered her eyes. Until¡ª Ironwing strode over to the window. She pulled back the curtains, by a sliver. Whatever she saw made her go very still for a few heartbeats, then she cocked her head. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen that before.¡± ¡°What?¡± Bessa asked. Caution laced her voice. Having finished binding Sel¨¤na¡¯s hand, she now was checking how securely the bandages were fastened. Ironwing snapped the curtains shut. She squared her shoulders and turned to face them. ¡°There are¡­goats¡­and other things¡­flying around outside. It¡¯s all because of some sort of¡­vortex¡­in the sky.¡± Everyone stared at her. The huntress made an ironic salute. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to tell jokes. I¡¯m not against them on general principles, but I cannot tell them well so I shan¡¯t tell them at all. Goats are sailing through the air at this moment. Let¡¯s go.¡± The lack of mirth in her face and voice gave no foothold to the notion of facetiousness on her part. ¡°Flying goats.¡± Edana Nuriel¡¯s deadpan tone made it a statement, not a question. ¡°Without wings. The wind is doing it to them. When the winds blow fierce, the gryphons I¡¯ve flown will balk and seek shelter. Flight may not be an option for us, but we need to flee.¡± Stepping away from the window, Ironwing paused long enough to use her foot to slide Sel¨¤na¡¯s boots closer to her bed. Thump! Crack! Immediately, Sel¨¤na swung her legs over the bed. She jammed her feet into her boots and stood up. Bessa threw a shawl around her, and knotted it shut in the front. The shawl and her nightgown were really all Sel¨¤na had to wear, but for the chiton the temple keeper had supplied her with the day before. Her eyes strayed to a lone chair in the corner, where she¡¯d draped Zephyra¡¯s pashmina cape. In quality it matched the finery she¡¯d once possessed, which had filled the cabinets lining one wall of her bedroom. The bedroom in Mama and Papa¡¯s house, where wealth came from honest enterprises. Not through deceit and dark sorceries. When she¡¯d gone to the citadel she¡¯d had need of Zephyra¡¯s cape. Here, she did not. Therefore¡ª Sel¨¤na strode forward and swept up the garment. With all the care, grace, and preciseness her dear nursemaid once taught her, she folded the cape into a square, like a parcel. ¡°Here,¡± she said to the servant girl, whose eyes widened in surprise. ¡°Miss ¡­?¡± the servant girl faltered. She bobbed her head and accepted the luxurious ¡°parcel¡± in her arms. Stand tall. Shoulders back. Chin up. That¡¯s my girl. Sel¨¤na cleared her throat and looked the girl in the eyes. ¡°Take this. In Valentis you could sell such as this on the open market for its weight in gold; I imagine similar profits would obtain here?¡± The so-called daughter of the Lord Protector of Elamis never asked the cost of items. Exquisite things were her due, after all. And Zephyra did not go out shopping amongst the common people. Merchants came to her, she selected from their wares, and her servants settled the bill. No one dared speak of prices or costs to her, only of quality and exclusivity. What Sel¨¤na knew about the cost of goods came from sitting in on her father¡¯s trade negotiations, or studying the bills of lading in his office. Nevertheless, she forged on and added, ¡°Make a tithe to this temple, but hold the rest as restitution. Among Zephyra¡¯s victims was a young hunstman who tried to rescue the dryads. I know not his name. But surely the venatori know if one of their own has gone missing. Or his family reported his loss. Let good be done in his name with the gold you get from this.¡± The girl bobbed her head. ¡°It shall be done, miss.¡± One thing more she must do. ¡°We need to bring that with us,¡± Sel¨¤na said, indicating the Staff of the Void leaning against her bedside. ¡°Its presence may be harmful to the people here.¡± Harrumphing, Ironwing claimed the staff and wrapped it in the sheet that formerly covered the bed. ¡°Had we any sense we would destroy this. But then again, I think we may be able to use this staff to return the harm to its sender.¡± As one they left Sel¨¤na¡¯s quarters. Just as Sel¨¤na had done in her dream, Ironwing shut the door fast behind them. In the corridor¡ªwhich had remained a corridor, thank the gods!¡ªthe guards were rushing to and fro. The Lyrcanian men met them in the main hall. They were already dressed to go outdoors, with their packs strapped to their backs. ¡°There you are! You weren¡¯t in your room,¡± Sheridan said to Ironwing. Before she could answer, one of the guards pointed to Tregarde and shouted ¡°You! Huntsman! You¡¯re needed on the summit!¡± Tregarde held up his hand in demurral. ¡°That won¡¯t help you, son. The fellshade is after us. But if we leave, the attack will stop.¡± Us, Sel¨¤na noted. Rahqu was not after the sorcerer or the others. She was after Sel¨¤na. But the sorcerer, Ironwing, and the others were throwing their lot in with her. They were protecting her. ¡°Oh?¡± The young guardsman eyed him with frank appraisal. Indeed, he looked young enough that Sel¨¤na was surprised his voice didn¡¯t crack. But there was nothing youthful or callow in his eyes when he narrowed them at the group. Was he calculating whether or not he should throw them all out of the tower? Sel¨¤na spoke up then. ¡°The shadow queen whom Protector Amavand served? These people have been fighting her. Is there a way to escape this building? This town?¡± The guard¡¯s lips tightened, as did his grip on his sword. Only one sound made it past his lips, before Ironwing cleared her throat. For a moment he looked mutinous, but her withering stare seemed to nail him to the spot. Two heartbeats passed before he visibly shuddered, and took a step back. Prudent of him, Sel¨¤na considered. The priestess had not scrupled to chop off the hands of a viceroy. In public, where his guardsmen could see her do it. And all because the protector committed crimes against her goddess, in the name of his shadow queen. What, then, might she do to a lowly guardsman who would dare to cast her to the mercy of that same fiend? They didn¡¯t have to find out, because Fravak burst into view at that moment. Wild hair and rumpled clothes betrayed his haste in seeking them. ¡°There you are,¡± he cried. He stopped to clasp his knees. And catch his breath; he frantically inhaled and exhaled. Ironwing went over to him and patted his back, uttering soothing noises until he calmed himself. When he could finally speak he said, ¡°The whole sky is opening up. Animals, trees, wagons, everything that¡¯s not nailed down is being sucked into a hole in the sky. And, three times lightning has struck this tower. You should know¡ªyou should know the pen where we kept your gryphons is gone. To say nothing of the carriage you came here in.¡± Sheridan swore, putting into one word what Sel¨¤na was feeling. The gryphons were the best escape route, and were the fastest means of conveyance ¡­ short of a portal. ¡°Is there a portal here? Some other way out?¡± Edana asked. Portal. Mama¡¯s letter said to look for a portal. Apparently, Edana remained focused on her own objectives even in the midst of a crisis. ¡°Maybe¡­¡± Fravak tapped his lips, as if deep in thought. ¡°Get dressed. We need to go to the temple.¡± The women hurried to obey, rushing to the room they had shared. Sel¨¤na followed behind, more out an unwillingness to be left alone than for any other reason. In the cozy bedroom given to Ironwing and the Rasena Valentian women, fragrant logs burning in the braziers provided both heat and pleasant scents. While the others snatched up this and that, Sel¨¤na warmed herself by the fire. ¡°Here,¡± Bessa said, thrusting a satchel at her. ¡°This one¡¯s yours.¡± Sel¨¤na blinked in surprise, but accepted the bag. A quick inspection revealed it contained clothes and a small toiletry kit. Removing the heavy wool caftan inside instantly lightened the load of the bag. ¡°Got everything?¡± Edana addressed the group just as she finished lacing up her leather boots. Wool lined hers, a practical choice for winter. ¡°Ready,¡± Bessa declared. Ironwing hooked her arms inside her pack. Then she picked up a saddlebag, from next to her bed. It was the thick, heavy-duty kind used with gryphons. ¡°If our mounts are gone, we¡¯ll need to carry these ourselves. The men have the other two bags, let¡¯s go.¡± Back in the corridor they rejoined the men. Someone Sel¨¤na didn¡¯t recognize stood amongst them. His posture tense, he looked this and way and that as if searching for someone. ¡°?gha Nima!¡± Bessa called. The man¡¯s eyes brightened and he sagged in relief. ¡°Banu Bessa, Banu Edana. We must leave at once!¡± Bessa and Edana reached the man first. ¡°We don¡¯t ask you to come with us for this. You¡¯ve done more than we could ask of you. It¡¯s only going to get more dangerous from here on out. Stay here until daybreak. As soon as we leave, you¡¯ll be safe. Ziri¡¯s people will see that you return safely to your family,¡± Edana said. By the way she said ¡°Ziri¡¯s people,¡± Sel¨¤na suspected there was more to their exchange than met the eye. Who was this Ziri, anyway? Nima gave no argument. ¡°What should I tell them?¡± He glanced at Fravak, who was bouncing from one foot to the other, not quite like a man in desperate need of relieving himself. But close. A mighty thunder clashed overhead, echoing off the marble walls of the great hall. Grit fell from the ceiling, and scattered about the floor. Edana unfastened her satchel and pulled out a sealed letter, which she pressed into his hands. ¡°Everything is in here. Thank you for all you¡¯ve done for us.¡± She hadn¡¯t quite gotten out the last syllable when Fravak broke in. ¡°This way. Quickly.¡±
Ever since he¡¯d teleported her and Lady Nensela to Elon, Edana had pondered how Ziri¡¯s teleportation ability worked. She had settled on the hypothesis that his abilities were limited or bolstered by the absence or presence of a nymphaeum, which were springs and fountains consecrated to the water nymphs. Ziri¡¯s grandmother was a naiad, after all, and in stories they possessed a godlike-ability to appear where they wished¡ªbut always near water. Several nymphaeum were scattered throughout Kyanopolis, Ziri¡¯s main base of operations as chief arcanus of the Star Dragons. Certainly, priests and sorcerers were limited by the presence of temples to the spirits they swore allegiance to, so it made sense Ziri would have a similar limitation. When she had teleported with Ziri back to Kyanopolis from Abris, he had first had her accompany him to a nymphaeum three miles from the ruined fortress. She thought of the question again when Fravak ushered them once more into the grotto, Aletheia¡¯s sacred spring. Smooth and placid water yielded no vision, and thus Edana turned her gaze away from the spring. Fravak also ignored the spring, making straight for a small platform at the far end of the room. Ropes closed it off from ready access. A placard hung from the ropes, with words written in Anshani and Pelasgian, amongst other languages. Fravak set to work, unfastening the placard and then the ropes. He tossed the placard aside, where it landed on the floor with a tinny thunk. ¡°In the old days, in the old dynasty, Anshan¡¯s high king demanded that all of the temples of Arenavachi should be linked,¡± he began. The ropes fell to the floor, and he approached the platform. He moved stiffly, and his aged knees cracked audibly as he mounted the platform. A heavy white blanket covered what Edana guessed was an altar, which stood in the center of the platform. Fravak didn¡¯t bother to uncover the altar. Instead, he put both hands out and began to push. Tregarde and Sheridan hurried up the platform. Instead of pushing, the younger men grabbed opposite ends of the altar and lifted it up. Their actions revealed the circle inscribed in the center of the platform. The words Edana didn¡¯t recognize; she only knew the script vaguely resembled Anshani. Bessa approached the circle, her amber eyes narrowed as she studied it. ¡°Does this go to the shahanshah?¡± Exertion made Fravak wheeze out a puff of air. ¡°No ¡­ In the old days, every sharab¡ªthe protectors¡ªwere responsible for the upkeep and stationing of any fortress that was within a three day¡¯s ride of his palace. The one I¡¯m sending you to has not been used in more than three generations. It fell into ruin before even Amavand¡¯s father came to the throne.¡± Bessa caught on. ¡°So, it¡¯s unlikely Amavand himself would have thought of it. He wouldn¡¯t have had any reason to mention it to Rahqu or her other minions, then?¡± ¡°You have the right of it. I¡¯m sorry. This is the best I can do for you.¡± He glanced at Alia, and lowered his gaze. At once Edana recalled the harsh rebuke Alia gave to the high priest before their confrontation with Protector Amavand. The priestess had scornfully suggested Fravak hide under his bed when he¡¯d initially resisted giving them aid. Fravak had been motivated by political considerations, which did not impress the devout huntress. Alia walked over to him and clasped his shoulders with both hands. ¡°You have done well, Guileless One. Thank you for all of the aid you¡¯ve given us. May the Truthsayer guide you always.¡± The high priest bowed. When he raised his head, his expression was more settled. ¡°Come.¡± Slung at Edana¡¯s hips was the pouch where she kept Lady Nensela¡¯s belt. Drawing it forth, she showed Fravak the Zanbellian coin. ¡°This coin was struck in Zanbil. Can you send me there?¡± It occurred to her that she didn¡¯t know precisely how the portals or Gates worked. Only that tokens were often involved in determining destinations for man-made portals. Fravak¡¯s eyes widened in wonder. ¡°Something of Zanbil came to you? But how¡ªno, there¡¯s no time. I can alter the teleportation spell, if you wish to go to wherever this will take you.¡± ¡°Wait¡ª!¡± Sheridan dashed over to her. ¡°Weren¡¯t we supposed to get advice? You know we cannot return from¡ª¡± Edana coolly met his gaze. ¡°Why would I be sent to a place of no return? I will trust in the Sower that if I am sent to a place, it is not so I can languish about in idleness. Do you truly believe a divine command is given on a whim?¡± ¡°They are not,¡± Alia interjected. Her tone brooked no debate. Nevertheless, Sheridan offered one. ¡°Why not go to the fortress where Fravak is sending us, and use its portal to go to Zanbil? It may be possible to pull you back¡ª¡± ¡°If this portal is one way, there is no pulling back. But I remind you, the letter was clear that I am to enter Zanbil through a portal in Elamis. Not some abandoned fortress elsewhere.¡± Sheridan started to speak, but Edana raised her hand, quelling him. ¡°Look: I¡¯ve been through this before. The prophet who gave me this command, and this coin to make good the command, told me about prophecy traps. One can blunder into a particular outcome by trying to avoid it. She also told me that all of her plans relied upon other people staying true to themselves. This lesson came at a great cost, she said, and I believe her. Lady Nensela knows I will not disregard her prophecy. She trusts me not to. I will trust her. Whatever is in Zanbil, I will find it.¡± ¡°But¡ª¡± this was all Sheridan managed before Edana shook her head and held up one finger. ¡°What you say is not insensible. I understand your point: I am not moved. Nor am I asking you to come with me. None of you.¡± She turned and spread her arms wide, encompassing the group. ¡°None of you must accompany me. The high king does need to be warned, and you venatori are equipped to deal with the threats facing him. So we need not argue: I will go to my quest, and you will go to yours. I will pray for your success, as I hope you will pray for mine.¡± ¡°Edana.¡± Bessa¡¯s tone reminded Edana of her own mother¡¯s; what she used when Edana was treading thin ice. Or Bessa, for that matter, for the two of them were always in league together when it came to mischief. Mama would take Bessa to task as easily as she would Edana. Yet there was no rancor, only the ghost of a smile on Edana¡¯s lips when she answered her oldest friend. ¡°Before you accuse me, know that I am not playing the lone wolf again. The days of that folly are past for me. I would welcome aid, and welcome company, and I have held back nothing you need to know. But in this one matter I will not yield, and in this one matter we have no time for me to convince anyone. Lady Nensela has earned my trust; the Lyrcanians don¡¯t know her.¡± Edana turned to the Lyrcanians and met their gazes. ¡°You have never met her, nor do you seem to know of her, so your lack of faith in her is to be expected. Come with me, or not. But I am going to Zanbil.¡± Sel¨¤na had watched their exchange in silence, but her eyes flashed when Edana said her mother¡¯s name. And while Edana refused to guess what was going on behind those beseeching hazel eyes, she knew she must handle this next part with care. ¡°Please listen, Sel¨¤na. As Lady Nensela¡¯s daughter, I don¡¯t doubt you are tempted to go with me. To see the place your mother spoke to you about. But I cannot protect you nearly as well as these three can. Your mother showed me kindness when I was utterly alone in the world. Allow me to repay her: stay with Alia, please. Stay under her protection. She will need you to get to the high king, so you will be serving your part, too.¡± Sel¨¤na clapped her hands together and brought them to her lips. Distress was written all over her face. What, and how would she determine her path? Edana didn¡¯t envy her. Everyone except her at least had a guiding light for their decisions. The girl was lost, in a darkness not even of her own making. Edana clenched her jaw. I don¡¯t trust decisions made out of fear. Bessa had said that to her, seemingly a lifetime ago. But fear was what animated Edana now. Abominations like her are not permitted to exist. But when Edana looked at the girl, she did not see an abomination. Only someone who must be protected from the evils that stalked them. Though she trusted Alia to safeguard Sel¨¤na, she was also keenly aware that both vengeance and divine law would justify the priestess if she deemed it necessary to slay Sel¨¤na. And Edana would not be there to intercede ¡­ However, it was Sheridan who spoke up next. ¡°We need to go the fortress, not Zanbil. Taking Sel¨¤na to the high king made sense when we could fly there. But, Ironwing, do you not remember having to put a shield over the Wolf & Raven? Can you do that for entire towns? Wherever we go, the shadow queen can send her people. Wherever we go, everyone is in danger. You know Sel¨¤na will be stalked relentlessly by¡ªhow did you put it, Optima Nuriel? ¡ª ¡®Sleepless enemies¡¯?¡± Crash! In the hall outside the portal room, mirrored mosaics shattered to the floor. A scream rang out. And then came an awful silence. ¡°You mustn¡¯t dither,¡± Fravak fretted. ¡°Please, are you going to Zanbil, or the fortress?¡± Alia whirled on Sheridan. ¡°Look, I¡¯ve given this some thought, before what sleep I was permitted to have. You are correct we need to rescue the high king. But we are close still to the winter solstice. Bringing Sel¨¤na to him right now will bring dangers to the king¡¯s doorstep that we cannot afford to risk right now. My mother and my aunts told me of that land. Believe me when I say we venatori will not be idle there. To Zanbil we go.¡± Chapter 8: Desolation Chapter VIII Desolation In which they reckon with Zanbil Colorful lights sparkled in the darkness. The lights flew by, and in the blink of an eye, they were gone. Edana blinked again. Darkness. And cold. Gone was the brightness she had taken for granted in Aletheia¡¯s grotto. Now she found herself jostled on a platform¡ªwhat she assumed was a platform¡ªin whatever corner remained of legendary Zanbil. Overhead, a rosy haze offered a focal point in the gloom. Below, at their feet, green symbols glowed faintly, offering a counterpoint to the rose-glow. Teleportation sigils. Silvery light flared. A glance to her right revealed Alia had activated her marvelous wand again, pointing it straight to her right. Sheridan, as it turned out, carried a wand as well, and he aimed his straight ahead. By all appearances, they stood on a large platform, at least a hundred feet square¡ªone hundred feet on each side. And opulent: tiled aventurine on the floor, sparkling green with flecks of copper. At the edges, the platform vanished. However, at each of the four corners stood a pillar with lotus capitals, from which arose arcs of iridescent moonbow steel. The moonbow arcs joined a giant moonbow-steel ring suspended overhead. In the center of the ring, an enormous, reddish purple gem proved to be the source of the rosy glow that haloed them. ¡°So the stones in the Gates are asmani stones? They¡¯re so pretty,¡± Bessa noted. White puffs punctuated her words, emphasizing how frigid was the air they breathed. The ring itself was incised with the signs of the zodiac. Jeweled studs formed a pattern for each sign: emeralds at the spring equinox stood for the Huntress, followed by peridots for the Aurochs, chrysoprase studs for the Dolphin, and then the lapis lazuli for the Restorer¡¯s Phoenix. Opposite the ring ¡ª on the floor ¡ª the glow of the teleportation sigils faded out, revealing they were carved of malachite. Tregarde activated his wand, then he, Alia, and Sheridan walked over to the edges of the square. North went Alia, and west went Sheridan. Tregarde went east, while Edana, Bessa, and Sel¨¤na waited in the center. ¡°Ah,¡± said Tregarde. ¡°So that¡¯s the situation. Come see.¡± Edana went over to him, with Bessa close at her heels. They were not on a platform after all. Rather, they stood at the apex of a stepped pyramid. Pure white marble steps led down from the apex, trimmed with thin strips of lapis lazuli which snaked down the steps of the pyramid on each side. ¡°Steps,¡± Edana noted. ¡°No wagons came to this portal? No trade? Or did goods come through a ¡®cargo¡¯ portal elsewhere?¡± Tregarde whistled. ¡°Astute of you, Optima Nuriel. Marble, aventurine, malachite¡ªthose all have to be dug out of the ground. Quarried. Don¡¯t imagine you get quarries in a floating city: there must be another portal.¡± ¡°Unless the city lowered itself on the ground to receive heavy cargo,¡± Sheridan suggested, coming up beside them. Softly came Sel¨¤na¡¯s voice behind them. ¡°Mama said the king of Zanbil sent out procurers to obtain things the city couldn¡¯t provide itself. Building materials, for instance. The procurers each carried a portal staff that let them return to Zanbil at will. The city didn¡¯t ¡®lower¡¯ itself. ¡®Eagles do not catch flies,¡¯ said the king. That¡¯s what I remember Mama telling me.¡± ¡°Portal staffs? Did she say how those worked?¡± Edana asked. What a remarkable invention! ¡°I believe they were attuned to particular places in Zanbil. Warehouses, specifically.¡± Sel¨¤na was staring out at the southern portion of the apex, which was still bathed in darkness. Was anything lurking in the dark with them? Edana shuddered. At that very moment, the reddish-purple haze of the asmani stone abruptly winked out. ¡°Oh!¡± Sel¨¤na¡¯s cry pierced the darkness. Edana remained still. Beside her the rasp of steel on leather told her Bessa had unsheathed her thunder mace. Smart of her, and Edana hastened to do the same. Tregarde and Sheridan stood back to back; their wands providing a bright pool of illumination within a ten foot radius. ¡°Be still and I will come to you,¡± Alia said. Bathed in the silvery light of her Ellura wand, she appeared to be an ethereal flame as she strode over to Sel¨¤na. Holding her breath, Edana waited for Alia to reach Lady Nensela¡¯s daughter. Fear reared up in her mind, an insistent expectation that something might be lurking near the girl. Something that managed to follow them from Aletheia¡¯s Fane ¡­ But all was well, or so Alia¡¯s wand revealed when she came close enough to illuminate Sel¨¤na. Nothing was looming over Sel¨¤na; no baleful trespasser from Erebossa menaced her. ¡°Do you need my arm?¡± Alia asked. When Sel¨¤na shook her head, Alia placed her free hand over the scabbard of her strange dragon weapon. ¡°Go ahead of me.¡± She lifted her chin in the direction of Edana¡¯s group. Hurrying to obey, Sel¨¤na jogged over to them. Alia¡¯s approach was slower, as she walked backwards, keeping an eye on the southern portion of the pyramid. ¡°Looks clear on this side,¡± Tregarde said. Once Alia joined them, Tregarde took the lead. By twos they descended the pyramid, with Bessa next to Tregarde, Sel¨¤na beside Sheridan, and Edana bringing up the rear with Alia. On the ground they learned the pyramid was housed in a grand hall, whose walls now became visible to their wands. Intriguing hieroglyphics came to light. For several heartbeats Edana stared, transfixed, and beside her Bessa inhaled sharply. ¡°We¡¯re the first people to stand here since the Fourth Cataclsym,¡± Bessa whispered. Over four hundred and fifty years since that fateful day, when Zanbil fell. Literally fell, if the stories were to be believed. Yet everything appeared to be intact. In awe and wonder they looked about, keeping a respectful and wary silence as they did so. The hieroglyphics told a tale ¡­ ¡°What do these mean? These are hieroglyphics, aren¡¯t they?¡± Bessa whispered. ¡°Yes, but as we cannot read them¡ª¡± Sheridan cut himself off, seeing Sel¨¤na finger the painted carvings. ¡°Do you know what these say?¡± ¡°One of my teachers was a priest of Athyr-ai,¡± Sel¨¤na answered. She paused, studying the wall. ¡°Bring your light over here.¡± Without even checking to see if he would follow, Sel¨¤na strode over to the northeast corner of the room. All of them followed her. For a long moment she examined the glyphs, then nodded to herself. ¡°We may want to know this. A history of Zanbil, starting with its founder, Farsak the Wise. In his boyhood he was guided by a star. A star ¡­ which fell, during the Night of the Falling Stars.¡± Sel¨¤na began walking leftward along the north wall. As fast as Sel¨¤na could read the glyphs, the tale unfolded. On the fateful night when the stars fell, Farsak heard a voice cry out to him in the dark. He knew, in his heart, that his star had spoken to him. For three nights the stars fell, and fell, and fell. At long last the bombardment ceased, and Farsak set out into the deserts of Athyr-ai. Night after night, day after day he searched, aided by his closest companions. On the seventh night, they found her. The star nymph. Irynefer. Sel¨¤na gasped. ¡°A battle in the stars! Such a thing happened! Irynefer told him she took part in the battle¡ªlet me see, who did she fight against?¡± Edana tensed. As a little girl the thought of the stars falling had seemed romantic, because Mama had said one could make wishes on such stars. If a multitude of stars fell, a multitude of wishes could come true for everyone. The look of quiet apprehension on Sel¨¤na¡¯s face filled her with dismay. ¡°Was it Ra¡ªthe shadow queen?¡± In a place of dark desolation she would not name Rahqu. ¡°An ancient enemy,¡± Sel¨¤na said after several agonizing heartbeats. ¡°Unnamed, except Irynefer referred to them as ¡®the Hosts of Chaos.¡¯¡± ¡°Hosts. As in armies?¡± Bessa demanded. ¡°Or as in the bodies of those possessed by fellshades?¡± ¡°The first one; the glyph for that word is always used in a military context. And, I don¡¯t get the sense mortals were involve in this part of the battle. But the star nymphs were attacked by the nymphai infernales¡ªinfernal nymphs of Erebossa. And the infernal nymphs weren¡¯t alone ¡­ oh my!¡± That was when they all saw it. A vignette depicting enormous beings towering over the white-clad star nymphs. Six-armed, lion-maned beings with hideous faces. Edana¡¯s heart skipped a beat in recognition. ¡°The gigalion,¡± she whispered. ¡°Bessa and I fought one at Red Pointe. That¡¯s what the giants turn into if there are more than fifty of them in one place. The giants are the hosts of chaos?¡± Beneath the lights of the Ellura wands Sel¨¤na visibly paled, a neat trick given her amber skin tone. ¡°You¡¯ve seen these monsters?¡± ¡°¡®Monster¡¯ is apt. The Salamandra call them monsters, too: atta¡¯u, in their language,¡± Edana answered. For several heartbeats Sel¨¤na went still. Then she exhaled and squared her soldiers. ¡°The gigalions threw down the stars to us. Irynefer said the gigalions meant to keep her and her sisters from teaching and guiding us Thuraians. Teaching us, and guiding us in how to fight the Ancient Enemy. When the stars crashed to our world, it began a Cataclysm. Followed by a dark age. But Irynefer said her sisters purposely cast themselves down with those stars. This was their plan, to make it look like they were defeated.¡± Alia tapped her lips. ¡°A strategic retreat, then. Did it work? Did the gigalions back off?¡± ¡°It worked. The gigalions ceased their incursions. The War in the Stars was over. Safe now, the star nymphs set to work on the mortals, each with their own missions. Irynefer taught gatecraft. Another taught blacksmiths the secret of star steel. And two others created secret orders of arcana to stand guard.¡± ¡°Pha?nna,¡± Edana said. ¡°I can confirm that part of the story, too. She is real, and the gigalions are real. What more?¡± They had come to the end of the North wall. The story continued at the West wall, which chronicled the rise and greatness of Zanbil, the floating city Farsak founded. He had intended the city to be a refuge for other sorcerer-priests of Athyr-ai, to advance knowledge and creation of wondrous devices. A floating laboratory of innovation, and a repository of knowledge. For hundreds of years after his death, Zanbil fulfilled his vision. The South Wall revealed the darker days of Zanbil. Regardless of how high up the city floated, they were still touched by the Age of Iniquity. The scribes stressed that only a small faction of the sorcerer-priests were corrupted by ¡°outside influences¡± from ¡°the Surfacers.¡± Yet that small faction wielded outsized influence. This faction, who called themselves the Unificationists, railed against Zanbil remaining aloof in the skies. They wanted everyone to know the secrets of gate making. Ostensibly their cause was innocent. But secretly, they did not want the gates to travel within Thuraia. Truly, they sought to open the gates of the cosmos itself. ¡°They weakened and undermined the rulers of Zanbil, the king and his counselors. And then came the ¡®Betrayal at High Noon¡¯ as the scribe names it. In that hour, the Unificationists took over the control room of the heaven stone that kept Zanbil afloat. They set in motion the city¡¯s fall ¡­¡± Sel¨¤na looked ahead, to the East wall. Blank. ¡°And the Conservationists¡ªthose are the sorcerer-priests who wanted to preserve Zanbil¡¯s function as a library and creation forge¡ªtriggered a spell. ¡®Sentinel,¡¯ they called it. Look, look at this!¡± She tapped another vignette, which showed a city inside what appeared to be a bubble. Next to it were more symbols, which Sel¨¤na translated. ¡°¡®Zanbil shall be kept from time. Zanbil shall be preserved. Not for Zanbil the destruction of the wicked, but for Zanbil eternal peace.¡¯¡± No more was written. Sheridan said, ¡°Preserved? So that¡¯s why no rubble, then. The city didn¡¯t shatter into pieces. But preserved how?¡± Sel¨¤na shrugged. ¡°The scribes do not say. Perhaps the knowledge is carefully guarded. But we need to expect to see people. And be prepared for them to be unfriendly.¡±
However, seeing people would require them to first leave the room. Which turned out not to be so simple a proposition. An ornate door of oxidized bronze took up the center of the South wall. A door that wouldn¡¯t budge when Sheridan attempted to open it. He stepped back, eyed the door, then felt along the edges as if to find the hinges¡ªwhich were of course hidden within the columns framing the door. Push. Pull. Pound. Every option proved useless; no one responded from the other side. Alia and Tregarde began examining the door. Meanwhile, the intense chill prompted the others to begin adding layers to their clothes. Bessa eyed the door as she pulled on a pair of gloves. ¡°Should we meddle with this? In Silura, if you¡¯ve killed an enemy sorcerer, it¡¯s standard to take his head. He can be set to work on matters like securing an area. My mother¡¯s family uses such a guard, for their tombs. Tampering with the doors on the tombs would draw its attention.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Edana tried to picture this, while she wrapped a thick woolen shawl around her neck up until her nose was covered. ¡°So, a skull floats around the tombs?¡± Bessa wrapped her face and neck in a similar fashion, but had tied her shawl into a bow above her heart. ¡°Perhaps? I really don¡¯t know what it does all day. And night. Only trespassers ever see it. When I was seven, my cousin Aucissa and I tried to get a look at one of the skull sentinels. But we carry Pendry blood in our veins, so we couldn¡¯t trick the sentries into thinking we were trespassers. It turns out it¡¯s just as well; the revenants always turn invaders into more revenants.¡± The others halted in their tracks at the mention of revenants, but Bessa didn¡¯t notice, for she was rooting around in her pack for something. She cheerfully continued, her Siluran lilt becoming more pronounced as she reminisced, ¡°We found two bodies one day while we were playing near the tombs, but Grandfather burned them on a pyre, with their skulls, too. First his death priest interviewed them, though, and confirmed they weren¡¯t sorcerers. Merely cowardly thieves who thought robbing the dead was easy money. Grandfather decided ordinary idiots weren¡¯t worth keeping around. He made sure their spirits couldn¡¯t trouble us.¡± Triumphantly, Bessa pulled a cap out of her bag, and promptly fitted it on her head. She pulled it low, down over her ears. Edana paused. She recalled now the gold-plated skulls Bessa¡¯s Grandfather Pendry kept on display in his house. Until this moment, she had thought them nothing more than a sign of his prowess in killing so many Furi warriors and chieftains, who had tried in vain to invade Silura. Though she¡¯d always insisted on claiming herself Siluran, for she was born in Falcon¡¯s Hollow, she¡¯d forgotten about the legendary Siluran death priests. And their penchant for enslaving the dead. More, if they found the corpses soon enough after death they even had the ability to interview the dead. Where death priests were concerned Edana sided with Rasena Valentian attitudes on banning them, but now she considered how useful they might have been in her investigations into Lady Nensela¡¯s prophecy. What would a death priest have done with Duke Gagnon? Or Protector Amavand, for that matter? Tregarde arched an eyebrow. ¡°How did your grandfather come to have a death priest? Isn¡¯t that against the law in Rasena Valentis?¡± Bessa returned his look with a roguish lopsided smile. ¡°I am Siluran, and Grandfather Pendry is what I call ¡®Old Siluran¡¯: he does not regard the ways of Rasena Valentians. Especially when those ways clash with our ways. As he sees it. And as he sees it, it is never wise to yield an advantage over an enemy. Think on this: death priests have the power to inflict immortal vengeance. Grandfather says the laws against them were set down by Tarkhana, who as it happens, is known to have Ta-Setian blood¡­¡± Understanding dawned in the sorcerer¡¯s eyes. ¡°So, your grandfather will not give up the one power that would command the respect¡ªor fear¡ªof an immortal adversary.¡± ¡°Yes. And some of the more insidious death priests were known to lay curses that could only be lifted by the particular priest. You see the problem when the priest has died of old age, but you are still alive, no? And will continue to be alive, and cursed, century upon century, age upon age.¡± Tregarde ran his hands along the door. Coated with a green patina, it was still bronze, and therefore impervious to their pounding and kicking. ¡°Well, I took the Oath, so making the dead work for you is not an art I know. Hopefully the sorcerers in this fortress were as sweet and innocent as I am. Let us pray this death-priest business is just for Silurans.¡± But Bessa¡¯s talk of revenants and death priests must have made an impression on Sheridan, for the young acolyte huntsman was edging away from the door. His fingers hovered over the amulet at his throat¡ªa chrysoprase carving of a golden eagle. Certainly his bullet-throwing weapon would do no good against a revanant. ¡°What if the Zanbellians weren¡¯t as ¡®innocent¡¯ as you? I thought the priests of Athyr-ai practiced death magics,¡± Sheridan said. ¡°Oh!¡± Sel¨¤na cried. In the light of the Ellura wands, her wide eyes gleamed with excitement. ¡°One of you shine your light over there.¡± She pointed to a spot in the darkness between the South wall and the pyramid. All three Ellura wands turned to where she pointed. Revealing the altar. Once stately, grime and dust had dulled the white marble and its lapis blue veins. Along the base, gold gilt the panel mouldings. Four golden swans hugged the corners of the altar¡¯s top, their wings extending outward so that their tips almost touched each other¡¯s. Their graceful necks rose up, extending sinuously over the alter, and their heads pointed down, towards the altar as if they were to watch over the offerings placed there. ¡°Who is the altar for? Swans aren¡¯t a motif of the Huntress, or any of the gods I can think of,¡± Tregarde pointed out. ¡°But swans fly higher than golden eagles, and the swans are the emblems of the Zanbellians. Mama said those were one of the few birds she ever saw flying overhead when she visited Zanbil. They¡¯re prettier than the lammergeier besides,¡± Sel¨¤na replied with a little laugh. She gestured for him to follow her as she strode over to the altar. A sharp nod from her when she came to a stop on the northern side of the altar, where she now faced the door. ¡°Here. Shine your light here.¡± Without a word Tregarde did so. His eyes widened. ¡°Ahhh. More hieroglyphics, with that fancy script alongside it. I don¡¯t suppose you can read the script, too?¡± ¡°I, ah, thought the hieroglyphics were more interesting, so I didn¡¯t pay as much heed to lessons on Athyr-aian letter writing. But I remember what Mama said, about how the doors were opened. You have to burn an offering on the altar. Do that, and the doors will open on their own accord. The script is telling us what vow we have to make when we burn the offerings.¡± The others came around to inspect the altar for themselves. Inset in the altar¡¯s base was a panel of painted low relief carvings showing a man and a woman placing blue lotus and precious resins onto the altar. ¡°Fi-fire would be g-good,¡± Bessa managed through chattering teeth. It was freezing. Even bundled in as many layers as she could manage, Edana still felt the cold in her bones. Everyone shivered violently, except Alia. In fact Alia shrugged. Likely her comfort came via the enchantments her dryad foster mother had woven into her coat. ¡°Wh-what is the vow?¡± Edana asked. ¡°Does e-everyone h-have to say it?¡± If the instructions required her to make vows in the name of any god other than the Sower, then she must find another way out. ¡°Do no harm to Zanbil or its people ¡­ obey its laws ¡­ there¡¯s no obvious trap in the vow,¡± Sel¨¤na said after a moment¡¯s study. She hugged herself and began jogging in place, as if to get warm. However, Alia countered, ¡°The trap is in how ¡®harm¡¯ is defined. Your own mother said she was allowed to know a translation of the Gate spell only because she didn¡¯t have an asmani stone, and was not a sorceress. If she were a sorceress, and did have an asmani stone, would knowing gatespell be considered ¡®harmful¡¯ to Zanbil¡¯s interests? If Zanbellians wanted a monopoly on gatespell and heaven stones they might answer yes to that question. Thus I will vow: not to steal, not to murder, and not to inflict grievous damage upon those who do no harm to me.¡± With a slow nod Sel¨¤na concurred. ¡°That vow should work ¡­ but what will we burn? The picture shows blue lotus flowers, but I think we can get away with any incense that smells nice. Any ideas?¡± ¡°I used up my best stuff in offerings to the Sea Lord,¡± Bessa said. She glanced at the venatori, and Edana supposed it would make sense for priests or sorcerers to carry around sacred essences. Sheridan pulled a pouch from his coat and hefted it. ¡°Calamus root. Almond tree resins.¡± And so it was, they burned the offerings upon the altar and repeated Alia¡¯s vow. Heart pounding in trepidation, Edana waited in silence for some sign the ritual was working. Then, just as it seemed their actions were in vain, groanings came from beneath their feet. This time when their teeth chattered, it was in harmony with the rumblings of unseen machinery below them. The bronze doors swung open. ¡°By the Blessed Knives,¡± Sheridan whispered. Bessa whistled. ¡°I want a lock like this! The tekmagi of Zanbil are as clever as my father.¡± ¡°And that is high praise, from the daughter of the Architect of the Sun City,¡± Edana said, for her own father had praised the works of Nikandros Bessus Philomelos in designing and building the imperial city of Solaris during their legionary days. Bessa¡¯s father had been a renowned artificer who invented many wonders, and built stunning feats of engineering. Tregarde and Sel¨¤na both stared at Bessa, awe in their eyes. ¡°Even in Anshan they speak highly of your father,¡± Sel¨¤na noted. ¡°And in Athyr-ai I saw a library he built, in Kantharos.¡± Bessa glowed with filial pride. ¡°I¡¯m glad his name lives on, even amongst the Anshani he fought against sometimes. We better get going, lest those doors close back on us.¡± On that note, they hurried through the doorways. No sentry accosted them in the corridor. To their pleasant surprise, glowing blue flames sprouted in cressets mounted to the wall, and the darkness vanished from the entire corridor. Nevertheless, the group fell into formation, with Sheridan taking the lead, and Alia taking the rear. However, Tregarde pulled out a small codex and a pen. As best he could, he began mapping. After a quarter of an hour they came to a great hall, a dining room suitable for a multitude. Clerestory windows, high up in the walls, revealed night still reigned outside. Several unlit braziers were scattered throughout the room. A quick inspection found two of them were still in usable condition ¡­ so long as they found fuel to keep them going. However, torch lamps stationed along the walls and hanging from the ceilings yielded to Tregarde¡¯s spell. Fire blazed now, allowing them sufficient light to see. At the far end of the room, a cauldron hung from a roasting spit. What had once been wine jars lay in jagged shards on the floor nearby, the floor beneath them stained with the remnants of the wine. Edana unhooked a few spare torches from the sconces on the wall. She passed one to Bessa and one to Sel¨¤na. Tregarde claimed another, and the tour resumed. Soon enough they began to realize they were in a fortified building. A fortress, perhaps, which would make sense if the Zanbellians protected their gate. Soon also they realized its state went beyond simple decay and disrepair. Signs of deliberate sabotage suggested an attempt to scuttle an outpost before an advancing enemy. Barricades blocked certain passageways. Notes scattered here and there indicated the Conservationists were determined to keep the Unificationists away from the Gate. However, the fortress had been built of stone, and the structure remained sound. No corpses greeted them. Only destruction, and a stripping off of whatever valuables had been present. Three quarters of an hour into their tour, their search ended in the discovery of a serviceable room in what was likely an officers¡¯ wing of the fortress. It fit their criteria: small enough to keep them warm¡ªthe high ceiling in the vast mess hall would leech off any heat¡ªand needed less cleaning than they expected. A large brazier dominated the center of the room. Sheridan inspected a metal bin sitting near it, and found it contained charcoal. ¡°Let¡¯s rest here,¡± Alia suggested. She dropped her satchel at her feet, underscoring her suggestion. Plumes of dust rose up from the floor where her bag had landed. ¡°We can get our bearings in the morning. In the meantime, let¡¯s consider what we¡¯re going to do about sleep.¡± Edana glanced at Sel¨¤na, who had tensed at the mention of sleep. The girl cradled her bandaged hand¡ªa reminder that something stalked her slumber. ¡°Alia, do you have a way to guard Sel¨¤na¡¯s dreams?¡± Edana asked, as she set her torch in an empty sconce on the wall. From the corner of her eye she saw Bessa using her torch to light the charcoals Sheridan had placed in the brazier. ¡°I am not a dreamwalker, or a khrestai. So if you¡¯re asking whether I can enter Sel¨¤na¡¯s dreams, I can¡¯t. But there may be something I can do.¡± From her satchel she produced an amulet, which she held up for the others to see. A miniature eagle fashioned of ash wood hung from a silver chain. ¡°My mother made this for me when I was small. In those days she only said it kept out nightmares. But it specifically keeps out the trespassers from Erebossa that invade dreams.¡± Sel¨¤na kept still as Alia fastened the chain around her neck. ¡°This will keep the fellshades out of my dreams?¡± ¡°And protect you from certain other mental attacks. So long as you wear it.¡± With little discussion, they applied their energy to sweeping out dust. They made up their sleeping pallets around the fire. The sole window in the room revealed they were still a long way from dawn. The last thing Edana saw before she closed her eyes for the night was Alia, standing watch over the group. Dawn never came. Though they awakened to the triumph of having slept undisturbed, it was only their own body clocks that awakened them. Not light, not the rays of the sun. ¡°We must be in a different part of the world, where it is still night,¡± Sheridan supposed. ¡°Perhaps we arrived after sunset their time, but we left Elamis before midnight.¡± Right. No need to panic¡­yet unease stirred in all of them, as they began preparing a short breakfast of bread, cheese, and small fruits. Immediately after swallowing her last bite Alia clapped the crumbs from her hands and declared it time to begin scouting. On the third floor they came to the parapets, which allowed them to overlook the site where the fortress stood. The windows had already revealed that a snowstorm raged outside. There was no question they would have to stay put for a while. But where could they go once the storm died out? Where was the city in the bubble? In the distance, to the north, a dark shape loomed. A mountain? Or the city in the bubble? Outside, Edana blinked furiously at the snowflakes that fell to her lashes. She shivered against the chill, but found it tolerable. The outfitter had supplied her and Bessa with a coat, similar to the strange outer garment Alia wore. Until now, Edana had been dubious about how much good a coat could do, but the downy stuffing between the wool exterior and the satin lining interior proved its worth even outdoors. To their north, the main road was in disrepair, and to their south was a vast forest. What may have been farmland in the east had since become wild again. All else was desolation. ¡°Food is going to be scarce,¡± Sheridan observed. ¡°And travel impossible,¡± Alia agreed. The chill wind lashed at them, underscoring her words. Without their gryphons, scouting out the land or obtaining supplies became far more difficult. Edana reminded herself that the fellshade was not omniscient. Though Rahqu might have wanted to corner them in some indefensible location, she lacked the power to spy on Lady Nensela¡¯s visions. Nor would she have known they planned to come to Zanbil, and therefore she had no chance to prepare a trap against them. No, their present predicament was insupportable, but they could overcome it. She hurried back to the officer¡¯s wing. It didn¡¯t take long to relocate the briefing room, where as she expected, there was still a map that showed the location of the gate fortress in relation to the nearby towns. She took the map to the others. One name was written in a larger text, a suggestion that the town itself was large and important enough to appear on maps. Sel¨¤na obliged her by translating. ¡°The place to the north of us is the ¡®Royal Ward.¡¯ The capital. That must be what¡¯s under the bubble. And we could walk to it in a day, if it stops snowing.¡± ¡°And what should we tell them when we get there? About ourselves, about why we came?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think we should trust them by saying outright what we¡¯re about.¡± The back of Edana¡¯s neck prickled. Though Rahqu was not omniscient, that didn¡¯t mean she didn¡¯t have her own arcani. And Sel¨¤na. Her vessel. Rahqu didn¡¯t need to be omniscient: she had Sel¨¤na. A now-apostate who may still carry her taint¡­a taint not cleansed by ordinary means. But Alia had been able to track Raqhu¡¯s minions because they were physically tainted by her ichor. If the huntress could track her prey through such means, then the shadow queen should be able to do the same from a spiritual standpoint. What the scribes of Zanbil wrote of the Unificationists suggested the shadow queen would find agents in that city. Malleable fools who would hunt down Sel¨¤na if the shadow queen offered up something they might want. Like the freedom to escape the bubble ¡­ Under her breath Edana swore. Her original plans revolved around keeping Sel¨¤na safe in Alia¡¯s care, away from her. Alone¡ªwell, with Bessa¡ªshe might not attract the fellshade¡¯s attention, and could work unhindered on the mission Lady Nensela had given to her. But so long as Sel¨¤na traveled with them, Rahqu would never turn her gaze from them. Never would she leave them in peace. Edana stared at the other girl from under her lashes. Sel¨¤na sat calmly, listening to them. The time had not yet come, to tell her what Narsai had said of her. But come it must, and soon. In what fashion could they ease her pain? Aloud she said, ¡°I side with your instincts, Bessa. By that I mean we will tell the Zanbellians little of what we seek, until we understand how things go there. But once we¡¯re in the capital, we will need to make a plan for the danger we¡¯ve brought to their doorstep. It could be attacked, just as Elamis came under attack. And for the same reason.¡± She eyed Alia. ¡°You mentioned that you put a protection spell around the inn in Elamis. A spell to prevent any death powers from working. Is there anything we could do to protect Zanbil from ¡­ incursions from Erebossa?¡± Bessa inhaled. By the looks on the group¡¯s faces, they clearly had not considered that particular implication of last night¡¯s attack. And Edana couldn¡¯t blame them; after all, it was just as likely that Rahqu was bound to her stronghold. Spirits and demons were often tied to specific locations, and Protector Amavand had made Elamis into a stronghold for the infernal queen. All eyes swung to Alia. Her exhale was long, but soft. ¡°A fair point you make. To stay in any given town is to invite trouble on it. A trouble I can¡¯t protect them from. I could avert Rahqu¡¯s gaze from us¡­but not all of us.¡± Her eyes rested on Sel¨¤na. Sel¨¤na shot to her feet. She clasped a hand over her mouth, as if to keep a scream inside. ¡°I¡¯m the danger?¡± she managed. ¡°I¡¯m the reason every one is in danger?¡± Her eyes darted wildly about before settling on the door. ¡°We will not abandon you,¡± Edana said quickly. She strode over to Sel¨¤na, and deliberately stood between the girl and the door, forcing the girl to look at her. ¡°That is not an option. And you shouldn¡¯t even attempt to run away. Your path is with us; we¡¯re in this together. The question that actually matters is this: how do we defend ourselves against the next attack?¡± Chapter 9: Whispers Chapter IX Whispers In which Nensela sets plans in motion In her stronghold, Nensela had not been idle. By the Seeker¡¯s grace she enjoyed a rare opportunity, and she couldn¡¯t afford to waste it. In Erebossa, Nensela¡¯s Sight ranged beyond anything she had Seen before in the Cosmos. In the Cosmos, she served the Seeker. But much to her surprise and gratification, in Erebossa the powers of Sorcha the Everbright waxed strong in her. Allowing her to See the movements of her friends and allies. As well, all of the Seeker¡¯s gifts opened up to her: as a prophet Nensela always Saw the Road Ahead, and now, in Erebossa, the Road Behind was hers to explore. She dove deep. Nensela traveled twisted, winding paths. Her instincts¡ªand something higher than instinct, that was not of her own mind¡ªserved as her guide. Three questions. Before Murena captured her, Nensela had sought the answer to three questions. The first: where was Sel¨¤na? Quickly enough she found her child¡ªblood of her blood could not be hidden from her in Erebossa. Next: for what purpose was Sel¨¤na stolen from her? Learning of her daughter¡¯s defilement put her in a dire state of maternal rage. And grief. And terror. Rage she set aside, and grief, because terror reigned supreme over her heart and mind: She must, she must figure out a way to help her child! Thus she submersed every emotion into a pool in her mind¡¯s eye, letting them sink out of reach so she might examine every thread of the tapestry in the life of ¡®Zephyra¡¯ with clear eyes and a sharp mind. At every turn Murena dogged her steps. Relentless in his pursuit, he forced Nensela to shift at least half her focus on staying two steps ahead of him. Within Erebossa the abyssal king enjoyed greater advantages than he ever did in Thuraia. And he only needed her to make one small mistake, and that only once. Having unraveled every aspect concerning the abomination known as Zephyra, Nensela formulated a daring stratagem. Drawing upon centuries of experience, she executed one well-timed Sending. Cool, icy nerve saw her through as she planted a seed in Zephyra. One which bloomed just as it should, just when it should. And then Murena captured her. Now, free from his ghastly presence, she could focus on the third question. From the safety of her stronghold she allowed herself one indulgence: a search for her son, who had gone exploring these last few centuries. The sole immortal born to her. All was well with him, Amyntas be praised. In body and spirit, all was well with him. Write your mother, will you? This thought she imprinted upon his spirit, wistful rather than commanding. Let her loving voice come to him in a quiet moment. Let it keep him up at night, until he should indeed send word to her as to how he fared. This done, she contemplated the priorities before her now. Now she knew beyond all doubt the gods were the primary targets of this Long War. A war begun long before she herself first drew breath in the Cosmos. To better suit her needs, Nensela altered her stronghold somewhat. The lower level retained its appearance as the temple of the Seeker. Now she added a second level, which resembled her childhood home. Familiar shelter, shelter she sought even in her dreams¡ªyes, she understood this dance. It was here that she received her guest. ¡°I don¡¯t believe I¡¯ve heard of you,¡± he said. He stood in the center of her library, turning and turning as he took in the breadth of volumes housed in her codex cases. The library had been built in the Octagon, what her father called the tower where he kept his volumes of scrolls, and later, codices. Its eight walls all bore niches that housed the cases. Nensela¡¯s father had been born after the First Cataclysm. The knowledge he had accumulated in the thousands of years from that day until this day could not fail to awe her guest, who had once been mortal. And of course, in his day, there had been no such thing as a codex. Scrolls served as repositories of knowledge in his day. Scrolls, or inscriptions in stone or clay. Nensela smiled at her guest. She carried two wine cups, one of which she offered to him. ¡°No, you would not have heard of me, Nimlot of Athyr-ai. I did not exist in your lifetime.¡± Nimlot eyed the wine in his cup. Its golden color signaled that it was honey wine before his tongue informed him of that fact. As a native of Athyr-ai he no doubt expected the wine of date fruits or raisins. But he smiled after his first sip. ¡°Nensela,¡± he purred. ¡°You¡¯re Ta-Setian. I wept when your people conquered my Gate.¡± Slaves did not attend Nensela here, nor sworn servants. But at a gesture from her, a small citruswood table appeared before them, laden with a tray of dainties and small foods. Nensela had stocked hers with treats from the lands she once visited or passed through. Lands Nimlot might only have heard of¡ªor not. It amused her. They didn¡¯t need to eat. But in Erebossa, those who had been inquisitive in life seized the opportunity to have experiences unavailable to them in their living years. She edged a plate of bread slices over to him. The slices were topped with cheese made from sheep¡¯s milk, and quince paste. Nensela replied, ¡°I weep that I was not yet born. I did not see this conquest happen. I am told it was glorious. But, your sorrow moves me, Great Architect: to spend the flower of your youth on an endeavor, to spend your blood and your sweat and your treasure to bring it to fruition ¡­ only to have it snatched away at the peak of your success! Yes, I would weep with you, for such sorrow.¡± Nimlot¡¯s mouth twitched. His hooded eyes and bushy eyebrows must have made him look half asleep to everyone who met him when he was alive. In Erebossa, he was no longer wizened and bent with age. Now here he stood anew, strong and straight, a man in his prime. ¡°Am I remembered now? In your time, do they know that it was I who built the Gate?¡± He tasted the quince. What did it do to him? Nensela wondered. To summon a ghost, one must pour out libations of milk and honey and wine. The spirits drank it eagerly, as she¡¯d observed, for the libations permitted them to regain their fleshly forms, if only for a little while. But on this side of Erebossa, what did happen to the spirits of the dead, when the spirits sampled the delights of the living world? Could taste and sensation invade their senses? What senses did they have? Did he taste every bit of the sweetness of quince? The sharp kick of the sheep-milk cheese? Was the honey wine like ambrosia to him? Nensela shook her head. She had no time for those questions. ¡°Ahh, fame. For some¡ªI suppose these are the people who matter¡ªsome do revere, the name of the man who built the Karnassus Gate. For some you are but a note in the margins. Many, many more know nothing of you, that you ever lived. Your Gate still stands. Others do not.¡± Nimlot¡¯s bushy eyebrows flew up. ¡°Others?¡± She had him there. ¡°The Xia Gate came after yours. Was that land known to you? It is far across the Gold Sea. Try this bread roll, the people of Xia make it with lotus seeds ¡­ the Cloud Gate was built in a land not known of in your age, as I understand it. That Gate remains, as well as yours. It is far to the North. ¡°But Anshan had one. Did your people fight Anshan, in your living days? I think only a skirmish or two ¡­ yes, the rice and barberries come from them. The rice is golden because they make it with saffron ¡­ Pelasgos built a Gate, and it, too, is lost. I do not believe your people had dealings with the Tartessians. They would have been of no account in your time, and are far to your west. But I think Athyr-ai did treat with the people of the Riftwater; which is to the east, in the midst of the Gold Sea. That is the place where the Sea Lord left this world, ah, before both our times!¡± Nimlot had made several encouraging noises throughout her chatter. Now his eyes gleamed. ¡°But no Gate for Ta-Seti!¡± he crowed. ¡°My revenge, then, it was effective?¡± Nensela suppressed a pitying glance. ¡°My dear Architect, your suicide was in service to your people, was it not? I¡¯m told they remembered it that way, in the generations after your death. That you would die before betraying the secrets of the Gate is to be expected of a man loyal to his people. I ¡­ know what it is to choose death over aiding an enemy.¡± Nimlot, his cheeks puffed with the savories she was feeding him, swallowed hard. His heavy eyelids lowered to slits as he peered at her. At last he asked, ¡°How did you come to be here? A Ta-Setian does not lightly die.¡± ¡°I am not dead,¡± she said simply. ¡°But I might die. I might, without your help.¡± Nimlot stepped away from the table. His eyes swept the room, flitting from one codex to the next. His wistful expression told on him. Yes, Nensela thought, what would he have given to have the knowledge contained in these manuscripts? In his living years, the library would have been a treasure without price. But his time had ended. By his choice, by his hand, it had ended. Truly, as a mortal, he would have been fated to end up in Erebossa all the same. As far as the world was concerned¡ªthose very few who knew his name at all¡ªNimlot of Athyr-ai was past tense. But if Nensela offered him the free reign of the library, he might take it. Inquisitive souls ¡­ but here the knowledge in her manuscripts could only edify himself. Alive, Nimlot had possessed a drive to be of service to others. The Karnassus Gate was his monument, his obelisk, one not meant for a king, but rather for a builder. Nimlot rounded on Nensela. He fixed a cool stare upon her. ¡°How old are you, Ta-Setian? What has passed? Is Athyr-ai free now, of your people? Have we conquered you in turn?¡± Nensela allowed herself a small smile. ¡°As Athyr-ai sought once, to conquer the Dracans? The Dracans are no more. Athyr-ai remains. It is but a vassal of a power that did not exist when either of us were born. Shall I tell you of the power that seeks to conquer Thuraia itself?¡± Nimlot¡¯s eyes grew large. For once he appeared to be wide, wide awake. Nensela told him then, of her quest. When she finished, the man was bouncing giddily on his feet, in the way of an excited child raring to go on a long-expected outing. ¡°Yes,¡± he breathed. He rubbed his hands together with undisguised glee. ¡°Yes. I will do this thing you ask, Nensela of Ta-Seti. Let us begin.¡± Nensela bowed her head to him, in the way of a student to her teacher. In this way she obtained the answers to her third question, concerning the gates and how to master them.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Darkness never left them. Outside of the fortress, the snowstorm spent its fury. In its wake it left behind mountains of snow, an expanse surrounding the fortress. But the darkness remained. So also did the howling winds. Initially, the newest residents believed desolation reigned over the surrounding lands. Then came the cessation of the snowstorm, which permitted the group to hear the eerie howls of wolves calling to each other. It might be supposed those howls made a better alternative to the complete silence hanging over the empty halls. The wailing winds, reminiscent of ghostly lamentations, brought to the newest residents thoughts of their dead. And though they enjoyed respite from the storm, persistent breezes waxed strong, carrying ceaseless whispers on their currents. Whispers just quiet enough, and sporadic enough, that one could suppose the voices were imagined. But the voices were always clear, and their words never went astray. You cannot save her ¡­ ¡°Be silent,¡± Edana rasped beneath her breath. Sharp glance from Bessa, who gave her a long look before she righted an overturned chair and sat on it. All the better to unfurl a relatively short scroll. They worked in the library¡ªso named by Bessa, on account of the many scrolls scattered about the room. Someone had taken the bulk of the scrolls, but Great Sower help them, one of these scrolls, might give them guidance on how to enter the Royal Ward. Maybe. Perhaps. Edana cleared her throat and returned to her sorting. Illiterate in the language of the scrolls, she skimmed the volumes in her current bucket in search of certain glyphs. According to Sel¨¤na particular, symbols referred to place names such as a town or a building. Others would refer to certain government officials. Short scrolls fell to Edana to examine, along with Bessa and Alia. They stacked the thicker, longer scrolls on four tables arranged in a square in the vast room. These they reserved for Sel¨¤na, the only one among them who could read the language. Already at the east table Sel¨¤na was busy, her pointer finger running down the length of a long document. ¡°It¡¯s noon in Elamis,¡± Alia announced. Standing nearest to the high windows dominating the western side of the library, she was almost completely shrouded in shadows. Underscoring all the more how unnatural the sky above the fortress. Even more, in Alia¡¯s right hand she held a fancy device. A pocket watch, she had called it, protected in a gold case fashioned to look like a peony. Lovely and practical both, and far more advanced than any of the pocket sundials Edana had ever used. Just as well, for the sun did not avail itself to them. ¡°Yet wherever Zanbil is, it¡¯s still dark outside,¡± Edana replied. Beside her chair, a round fruitwood table served as the base for her discard pile. Unfortunately, the scroll in her hands proved as useless as the others. Onto the table it went. ¡°Dark when you say it¡¯s noon, and dark when you say it¡¯s midnight. On at least one of those occasions we ought to have seen daylight here. Bessa, didn¡¯t the writers of your travelogues claim that in the Far North, there are lands where the sun vanishes for months at a time?¡± ¡°Yessss,¡± Bessa drawled. ¡°And they speak of how lovely the stars are, and how brightly the moon shines. Such delights are kept well-hidden from us here.¡± An observation, not a complaint. Take the statement thus, and refrain from snapping back, Edana told herself. Keeping her tone mild she said, ¡°True. This is the third time Alia said it¡¯s noon. Waiting for daylight is looking less and less viable, as options go. We have glowlights, we have firestones, and a means of concealing our activity until we get to the Royal Ward. What I¡¯m concerned about then is how to pass through the bubble.¡± Because the bubble obviously served a purpose, and its persistent existence strongly hinted its purpose was not complete. From what they could tell, it never dimmed, it never vanished, At that moment Tregarde and Sheridan burst into the room, stomping their boots and making audible noises of relief. Edana fixed an expectant gaze upon them. Without their gryphons, they had no effective means of scouting. But in Elamis Alia had retrieved the leafbird Tregarde had given her. Here and now, Tregarde used it as a scout, sending it to fly about the area surrounding the complex they were calling ¡°the gate fortress.¡± Through its eyes, he could get a better sense of what lay to their north. ¡°Report?¡± Edana asked. Tregarde¡¯s coat flapped against his boots as he stalked over to the brazier in the center of the room. By tacit agreement they relied on elemental heat rather than the firestones they¡¯d brought. Without sunlight to reactivate the heat in a spent firestone, they must keep the stones in reserve. Tregarde removed his gloves and began vigorously rubbing his hands over the fire. ¡°So here¡¯s a thought to keep you up in the dark: why is this place outside the bubble? Any ideas?¡± The look on his face caught their attention. Gone was any trace of his customary levity. In its place was something shadowed and somber. Sighing heavily, Bessa rubbed her neck. Since coming to Zanbil they¡¯d made sleeping pallets on the cold, hard floor. Life without a well-feathered mattress made for persistent aches and cramps, a hardship Bessa had never experienced before. Privately, Edana mused she herself had slept on relatively softer ground during her trek through the Scrubs, after the massacre of her caravan. ¡°Do we need dark thoughts in a place like this?¡± Bessa snapped. Unspoken was the reason why they all stayed together in the so-called library. Why none of them were ever alone, except for when attending to bodily functions. And even then someone was always to keep watch over the doors. ¡°We need to reckon with this,¡± Tregarde insisted. ¡°Daylight isn¡¯t an option. I sent my leafbird flying high. And it got dashed to pieces. Maybe it¡¯s just as well we don¡¯t have our gryphons, because there might not be a sky above our heads.¡± Alia joined him beside the brazier. Looking up at him she asked, ¡°So are we in a secondary bubble?¡± But at this Tregarde only shrugged off his coat, and set it aside on another empty chair. It fell to Sheridan to answer her. ¡°Maybe. From what we could tell, the leafbird came too close to a barrier. One we can¡¯t see, but clearly exists, because the moment the bird came near it, it flew apart.¡± Edana paused. Goodness. The Conservationists were determined and thorough. ¡°We shall not fly high, then,¡± she said. ¡°Well enough we are without the gryphons. Is that the only knowledge your bird gained for us, Tregarde?¡± He spun on his feel to face her. ¡°Did I mention the chasm? Oh, I didn¡¯t? Yes, so the road leading between here and the bubble is cut off about three miles out from here. Wide enough you can¡¯t jump across, deep enough you¡¯ll take days to die when you fall in. But should you overcome that small problem, there¡¯s about thirty miles left of road to travel to the domed city.¡± Various plans died a quick death in Edana¡¯s mind, as a new objective came to mind. Aloud she said, ¡°Hm. The drawing I found when we came here suggested Zanbil is not precisely a city-state. That it was more of a tiny country, with farmland and villages surrounding the capital. Did your bird find any remnants of this? Any sign of life at all?¡± ¡°Of human life? Or the Salamandra? No, and no. Curious, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡± The bubble was meant to preserve life. To be outside of it was thus to die. In the cold. And the dark. A brutal fate for the Unification faction. Were they the source of the whispers on the wind? An idea she would like to dismiss. But too well she remembered huddling against her father¡¯s body, surrounded by a multitude of corpses. ¡°The effects of the bubble and the barrier make plain the intentions of those who erected them. If the Royal Ward is in the bubble, and no one can leave the bubble, then no one can come here. That¡¯s what gates do: they keep intruders out, but sometimes they¡¯re meant to keep inhabitants in. Should anyone make it out, there¡¯s the chasm you spoke of. The Conservationists might have gambled that keeping the Unificationists away from the portal room was the key to thwarting them,¡± Edana speculated. ¡°So the question, then, is what went wrong.¡± The question apparently startled Sel¨¤na, for she abruptly looked up from her task, and for the first time spoke without being spoken to first. ¡°Why must something have gone wrong?¡± ¡°Because the night remains endless. Because the bubble still exists. And we are four hundred and fifty years beyond the event that brought them into existence. Why? Surely, both combatants in that fight are dead? It would not have taken more than a year, I think, for the Unificationists to die if they were outside the bubble. Or die in prison if they were inside the bubble. So why is it still up?¡± Unlike Tregarde, Sheridan did not warm himself by the fire. He remained in the doorway, looking out into the corridor. Standing guard. Inside the fortress, they kept the darkness at bay with fires they kept lit in torches and lamps on the walls. These served as markers for the territory they had explored thus far. Sometimes; however, an errant breeze would snuff out a light ¡­ Seeing Sheridan reminded Edana, yet again, that they needed to move on. They needed to advance. Bessa eyed Tregarde as she unfurled yet another scroll in her bucket. ¡°As a sorcerer, does our situation make sense to you? If you wanted to make such a spell as was placed over Zanbil, how would you go about it? And if you wanted to counter such a spell, what would you do? The chasm suggests to me that whoever might come across it wouldn¡¯t have a pegasus, or gryphons, or dragons. Nor would they have access to a teleportation staff for some reason. You are a sorcerer in exactly that situation, so what would you do?¡± Tregarde laughter was rich and deep. ¡°Oh, you do my old masters proud! Once more I am a student, put on the spot after napping in class.¡± This time when he chafed his hands he did so with an air of good humor. ¡°Let¡¯s figure here. Start with, there must have been Unification sorcerers, too. Agree? So all the problems I mentioned? They didn¡¯t solve them. If it were simple to solve them, there wouldn¡¯t have been any point to the tactics used against them. Maybe they were left in the dark to force them to surrender. They surrendered. They get let into the city. But then they resume fighting inside, only this time everyone died. No one left to get rid of the bubble.¡± Despite the fire, cold air prickled at the back of Edana¡¯s neck. Unquiet spirits. Had she brought them all to a massive tomb instead of a city? ¡°That¡¯s one option,¡± she conceded. ¡°But my objective remains unchanged. I came here to find out about gates. The bubble stands in our way. How do we get through it?¡± Tregarde¡¯s lips twitched. ¡°And the chasm? You¡¯re not concerned about the chasm?¡± ¡°You have telekinesis. Your bird was able to fly over the chasm. If the bird can fly over, that means no spell is warding the chasm from those who want to cross it.¡± ¡°Ahh. And that brings us back to my question about the bubble, and what it might be used to do.¡± Edana¡¯s heart sank as realization struck her. ¡°We, too, are in a bubble?¡± ¡°No. But every egress in the walls of this fortress are covered with a shield. I suspect when we do leave this fortress, it will not be in the usual way.¡± Inwardly Edana groaned. Of course her mission was not easy. Why would it be? But she had come here, and they had followed¡ªnot by her choice¡ªbut she would accept the responsibility of getting them out of the fix they were in. She pointed to another overturned bucket, in a corner of the room. ¡°We¡¯re looking for scrolls that speak of the Royal Ward. It is my belief that somewhere here is a portal to someplace there. From what I can tell the people of Zanbil were given to extravagance. Moonbow steel coins? These are people with expensive tastes. This portal fortress is within a half day¡¯s walk of the capital, and I am skeptical a king or an official would not want to arrive here sooner for the sake of important business.¡± Before the sorcerer could reply, Bessa added, ¡°When we met her, Alia told us she found objects hidden by sorcery in the office of a wicked sorcerer who was abducting dryads. In Zanbil of all places what is the likelihood nothing crucial was hidden in a similar way?¡± ¡°Ah, then that¡¯s where I come in,¡± Tregarde said, rising from his chair. ¡°I have to map out the fortress anyway. I¡¯ll look for teleportation sigils or mirrors, and whatever else might lend itself to that purpose.¡± Alia grabbed his arm, stopping him. He blinked in surprise, but she faced the group when she said, ¡°Take no more than two hours before you return here. Starting tomorrow, all explorations must end at noon, Elamis time.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Edana asked. The more time they spent exploring, the quicker they would find what they were searching for. Alia gestured toward the brazier. ¡°We don¡¯t have endless reserves of fuel. As much as we need to keep the torches lit ¡­ we need to keep the torches lit. We can¡¯t burn them at all hours. During what we will consider daylight, we will set them alight. But after, we need to snuff them out.¡± ¡°Ohhh,¡± Bessa silently mouthed. A sensible decree, and one that renewed Edana¡¯s determination to escape the fortress. ¡°Consider it so, good huntress,¡± Tregarde agreed. He took himself off, and Sheridan followed. Before doing so; however, the young huntsman stared for a long moment at Sel¨¤na. For a moment he seemed about to say something, but apparently thought the better of it. He shut the door firmly behind himself, as if to secure the women inside the room. Edana suspected Sheridan was pondering their need to figure out how to defend against Rahqu. But that task was outside of her field of expertise, so she would leave the matter to the venatori. Here and now she must apply herself to her own tasks. The women worked in silence at first, pouring over each scroll as carefully and thoroughly as possible. But in the silence the whispers returned. Chapter 10: The Inner City Chapter 10 The Inner City In which they resolve to fight back The knowledge that their situation was sorcerer-created softened the edges of their emotions. "What one has made, another can destroy," Edana said. They spent everyday exploring the fortress and searching for any sign of teleportation devices or portals. As well, for anything that could account for the barrier spell. None of the scrolls they had yet found gave details on those matters. Instead they proved to be more records of trade, and the comings and goings of assorted dignitaries and traders. Government records and taxes and the like. However, during their exploration the layout of the fortress became clearer. And in its design they found cause for hope. Before its demise, Tregarde¡¯s leafbird had alerted him to the fact that they were inside a complex within the inner walls of the fortress. Towers occupied each of the four corners of the inner walls. Beyond the inner walls, the outer walls, too, possessed towers. Inside the complex stood a structure Tregarde believed was a temple to the Restorer, because of the phoenix statues lining the avenue leading up to it. ¡°Earlier I said a barrier is either keeping something in or something out. I believe the bubble over the Royal Ward is keeping something out. Your leafbird was destroyed near the barrier to this fortress, so I think this barrier was meant to imprison. To keep others in. Agree?¡± This she asked of Tregarde, who walked beside her on the northern wall of the inner complex. Here, the curtain wall could accommodate six mounted cataphracti riding abreast. ¡°Sound enough, as ideas go,¡± he agreed. However, to her ears he sounded noncommital. As a sorcerer, he would necessarily have more insight into their situation, but she remembered how he had evaded Bessa¡¯s question in the library. This time, Edana was determined to pin him down. ¡°Is there another option? What other purpose would the barrier serve? It doesn¡¯t look as if it was preserving time, because we see so much dust everywhere. I would expect a preservation spell to be akin to keeping something in amber. But you see the decay, do you not?¡± Dark, imposing, a tower loomed above them. ¡°Tomorrow¡±¡ª or whenever they woke up ¡ª they would make their way into the inner complex. Somewhere within that network of buildings they were sure to find what they needed. With his wand-light in hand, Tregarde made a wide arc with his arm. Allowing them a broader view of their immediate surroundings. Outside, they were exposed. Likely nothing was lurking nearby¡ªthe leafbird hadn¡¯t spotted any signs of sapient life, after all. But Edana thought of the al?, and other shadow-like Erebossi, and thus kept up her guard. ¡°That¡¯s also true.¡± Again he sounded mild, non-commital. At this Edana planted herself in front of him. Obliging him to either face her or make his evasion more plain. ¡°What aren¡¯t you telling me?¡± she demanded. ¡°You¡¯re the only sorcerer here. What we know about, we can save time and plan. If you leave us in the dark we will waste time stumbling about.¡± Tregarde sighed heavily. He rocked on his heels and regarded her steadily, as if taking her measure. ¡°Well?¡± ¡°It¡¯s more like this,¡± he began. ¡°Like you said, there¡¯s two purposes to a barrier. Three, if you count a preservation spell as a kind of barrier. But let¡¯s focus on the first two options: to keep something in, or keep something out. So, you have both kinds. Do you make them the same way?¡± What patience she had began to fray, but Edana forced herself to only shrug in response. ¡°Is this something I would know? My education did not include the ways of sorcerers¡ªonly the admonition to not trust them.¡± Tregarde chuckled. His entire posture relaxed, as if she had punctured some barrier of his own. ¡°Let¡¯s keep this friendly. I admit I¡¯ve been cagey, but my motives will stand tall in a court of judgment. You don¡¯t seem prone to panic and hysterics. But I also figure you as someone used to being able to make her own way, whether in good times or not. When times are not good, people feel driven to ¡­ do things ¡­ they might otherwise not. These are not good times. You may feel bound by circumstance, and I figured I¡¯d give you some slack in those bonds. Enough slack so you might come up with a way out of this.¡± ¡°Because?¡± She folded her arms and braced herself for bad news. ¡°Because the two kinds of spell are not made the same way. Imprisoning someone¡ªwhich is what I think the fortress barrier is meant to do¡ªrequires crossing the will of that person. A compulsion spell takes the blood of the one doing the compulsion. A prison barrier¡ªthe kind that lasts for centuries like this one has¡ªwill take more than blood. Now, my first thought¡ªif we¡¯re dealing with combatants who are ruthless but discriminate¡ªwould be if the barrier was tailored for certain enemy combatants. The Unificationists lend themselves well to this example.¡± The idea of a targeted spell appealed to Edana. Not being a part of either faction would grant her and her companions a certain amount of freedom and protection. But if matters were so simple, Tregarde wouldn¡¯t have hesitated to speak up about it. ¡°Ruthless and discriminate would be my inclination. And I¡¯d do the spell that way if I had the time and the means,¡± Edana said. ¡°But given the destruction of your animachina, the ones who placed the barrier may have lacked the inclination, the means, or the time to be discriminate. Meaning what? We¡¯re back where we started, then.¡± ¡°Not where I was going with this. Like I said, the kind of barrier we¡¯re dealing with isn¡¯t going to be placed by ordinary means. Remember what your friend said about the sentinels guarding her family¡¯s tomb? What I suspect is that the Unificationists were slaughtered. Their blood is a component of the barrier spell. Not only that, but I believe they were enslaved in death to maintain the barrier.¡± Beneath her breath Edana swore. Heedless, Tregarde continued, saying, ¡°Zanbil was built by natives of Athyr-ai, and the ancient Athyrii were known for their death magics. The Oath we sorcerers take in Rasena Valentis? The one about not touching on Erebossa? The Athyrii never thought up such oaths. I¡¯d wager they¡¯d laugh at the idea. I¡¯m one sorcerer; thank you for noticing. Notice now that we only have one full-fledged priestess amongst us.¡± Something in his voice made Edana stare sharply at his face. Unfortunately, his wand was not positioned to let her see him clearly, and his expression was hidden in the shadows. But in her heart she read the undercurrents in his voice. If Tregarde was right about death powers being a key component of the barrier spell, then the consequences of meddling it would fall, hard, on Alia. She would be endangered beyond their ability to aid her, if they failed to understand the forces they were tampering with. ¡°We will not throw Alia¡¯s life away,¡± Edana said softly. ¡°If you¡¯re right about how the spell was made, and what it might do, then trust I will not sacrifice her. That will never be my goal.¡± Exhale from Tregarde. ¡°So I have you right, then. Good. Tomorrow we enter the inner complex. Be wary. If you see sarcophagi in unexpected places, give them a wide berth. Expect them to be trapped. Understood?¡± ¡°Well enough.¡± Under her coat she shuddered as she contemplated the radius of any spells the Zanbellians may have placed around the corpses of their enemies. Join us ¡­ By now Edana knew not to whirl about at the sound of the whispers. More and more she believed they came from the dead. Vengeful Unificationists, perhaps. Or people caught in between the battles between that faction and the Conservationists. Steeling herself, Edana peered into the arcs of light Tregarde¡¯s wand offered them. Somewhere near, she suspected, they would find a corpse. As it happened, during their exploration they occasionally stumbled across a dead body. Each time they found a corpse they marked the area. Should they find a proper resting place for the dead, they would transport them there and give them their rites. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps they would put to rest the whispers on the wind if they did so? Privately she hoped as much. But not one body came into view of Tregarde¡¯s wand as she traversed the wall with the sorcerer. On the other hand, the walk gave her more time to ponder how to avoid directly tangling with whatever the angry corpses that might have fueled the spell for the fortress barrier. ¡°Maybe we don¡¯t have to do anything to bring down the barrier. Maybe other Zanbellians can do it for us,,¡± Edana suggested. ¡°Suppose we light beacons in the watch towers along this wall, and the northern outer walls. Something bright enough that watchmen in the royal bubble might see it.¡± ¡°We may need something stronger than fire for such a beacon,¡± Tregarde mused. ¡°And Alia has a point about us wasting fuel. I don¡¯t know how long it will take for us to find a way into the Royal Ward, but I don¡¯t relish the thought of shivering in the dark.¡± ¡°Stronger than fire?¡± Edana tried to imagine what sort of spells he might have in mind. But the sorcerer refused to elaborate. Instead he consulted with his own pocket watch, and declared ¡°noon¡± had come. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Edana replied. Behind them, torchlight marked the doorway to the interior of what they now called the Gate Tower. They ran on eager feet toward the light, which grew brighter and larger with every step they took. Once past the threshold of the tower, Edana allowed herself a small sigh of relief. She clasped the door handle and began to swing the heavy oak door shut. Join us! The insistent whisper rolled over the back of her neck. Shudders rippled through her body. But she kept her hands steady as she bolted the door. Join us!
The next ¡°morning¡± they exited the Gate Tower through a pair of magnificent bronze doors. From the outside they evaluated the citadel in which they had spent the past several days. Its magnificence even now could not be denied. Though neglected for centuries, the fortress had remained solid, built as it was in ancient days by a formidable artificer. The dressed stone of the buildings in the complex were composed of the finest ashlar masonry¡ªsquare cut stones of equal size, with hairline joints. Looking up, up, and up with her torch, Bessa whistled. ¡°I feel so small.¡± ¡°The walls are huge,¡± Alia agreed. ¡°One wonders if Zanbil had a rival, or an enemy. Why build such a fortress if you didn¡¯t need to defend yourself against a threat?¡± ¡°Prestige. They might have built this for prestige rather than actual war,¡± Edana suggested. ¡°Ah. Yes.¡± Beyond the bronze doors of the Gate Tower, a small city awaited them. Buildings, large and small, lined a broad street that swept from east to west. The ramp leading down from the Gate Tower opened up to another broad street, which ran southward. A cold breeze blew through the streets. Oddly, in spite of the barrier, the air in the inner complex was not stagnant. But it did not carry pleasant scents, either, and Bessa wrapped her scarf around her nose with her free hand. Creeeeeaaaaakkk! Bessa whirled. Behind her, Sheridan was pulling a two-handled cart filled with two huge, empty cauldrons. At breakfast, Bessa had proposed they find collection devices to improvise a cistern. Her father¡¯s engineering manuals had given her an idea for how they might go about it. ¡°We can use the meltwater from the snow,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯ll need it soon enough.¡± Nothing should go to waste. Tregarde picked up the cart¡¯s second handle, and the men made their way down the ramp, serenaded by the creaking wheels of the cart. ¡°Maybe we should oil those wheels,¡± Bessa suggested. Tregarde flashed a smile. ¡°Nah. We get lost, or you get lost, and the sound of these wheels will be your guide.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll meet here at noon,¡± Sheridan said. The matter of fresh drinking water settled the question of what building to explore first: to the Restorer¡¯s temple they must go. ¡°Mama said it had an everlasting pool. Some naiad had blessed the pool to always refill. The catch is that you had to do the rites to honor the Restorer,¡± Sel¨¤na had explained during dinner the night before. ¡°So that¡¯s how they managed without a sacred spring,¡± Bessa had said. The group split up. With water their primary concern, the women took South Street, as Bessa called it. According to Tregarde¡¯s doomed leafbird, the Restorer¡¯s temple was to the south and east of the Gate Tower. Empty building which once teamed with activity, now stood as silent, eerie shapes. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Torchlight revealed signs, some of which they didn¡¯t need Sel¨¤na to decipher, because they used pictures. A lone sandal indicated a shoe shop. A hammer and anvil combo indicated a smith¡¯s forge. ¡°Oh look, this is where they¡¯d go for a drink,¡± Bessa noted, as they passed by a building with a sign that featured an overflowing cup. The Restorer¡¯s temple announced itself with a grand walkway lined with gold-plated phoenix statues. At the end of the walkway, two obelisks carved from blue granite stood before granite pylons. Both the obelisks and the pylons were carved with reliefs depicting naiads and finely dressed humans. ¡°These tell of how the naiads were brought here, and how they came to bless the pool,¡± Sel¨¤na said. Inside the temple, they walked between grand red columns with golden lotus-flower capitals of the great hall. ¡°Looks like this place was scuttled, too,¡± Edana said, pointing to scattered vases and overturned pedestals. Several rooms along the great hall had beds and couches, also in disarray. The frescoes on the wall indicated these had been convalescent rooms. ¡°What are these jagged circles and gashes in the walls?¡± Bessa asked. She pointed out the large white holes disfiguring the center of each of the four walls in one room. Alia frowned. ¡°These might be where the phoenix plaques were once fixed to the walls.¡± For a long while she stared at the gashes. Each room they came to, they saw more of the same defacing marks. In the fourth room they found proof of Alia¡¯s guess, for only half of a phoenix plaque had been torn from the wall. ¡°They deconsecrated the temple,¡± she said. ¡°All of the sacred symbols have been removed.¡± A pit formed in Bessa¡¯s stomach. Would the Conservationists have gone so far as to also spoil the everlasting pool? In the central courtyard they found their answer. Paved with once-beautiful blue-green tiles, the courtyard contained a pit in the center. Three steps led down to a steel floor, whose size and rectangular dimensions strongly suggested a pool lay beneath it. Bessa sighed her relief. ¡°Good. They didn¡¯t have the nerve to to destroy the pool.¡± Alia swept her gaze to a huge marble block standing at the far end of the pool. ¡°There,¡± she pointed. At first Bessa wondered what she meant. Swans and roses carved into the marble white marble would have looked lovely when cleaned and polished. But then it hit her: the block was a pedestal, where a statue would have stood. Likely a statue of the Restorer. ¡°Why do this?¡± Sel¨¤na demanded. She darted over to the pedestal and ran her hand along the top. Confirming the presence of markings made for the base of a statue that once occupied the flat top. ¡°To deny the use of it to the Unificationists. And anyone else who remained in the Gate Tower,¡± Alia answered. Bessa studied the steel floor. With a large enough pry bar, they should be able to lift it. If so, it would buy them time. Time to figure out a way into the Royal Ward. Time for you to rot. Bessa grit her teeth. By the gods, she hated the whispers! Slowly. Slowly. Slowly you will rot. Edana visibly flinched, and Bessa supposed she had also heard the taunt. The circles under her eyes told of the lack of sleep, and Bessa knew she herself looked no better. Ignoring the voices seemed possible at first. But lately they grew more insistent, and in the back of her mind she feared something might make itself known if they continued to ignore the taunts. ¡°Will it be safe to drink the water?¡± Sel¨¤na asked. Alia looked up at her. Locking gazes she said, ¡°This temple is a job for a Restorite. Cleansing the pool, if cleansing is needed, is also the job for a Restorite.¡±
By noon the men had brought in enough fresh water to supply a bath, cooking water, and drinking water. Finding the Restorer¡¯s temple, and bringing in melt water was their only triumph of what they called the ¡°day.¡± By what they called ¡°night,¡± they ate dinner in a general¡¯s quarters. Fortunately for them, the rooms were just small enough to keep heated with what little fuel they had on hand. Taking a lesson learned from the Elamisi, they kept a firepot banked with ashes beneath the table. During their daily exploration of the fortress, they had found a camphorwood chest filled with thick blankets. Someone had placed a preservation spell around the precious fabrics, ensuring they would remain in usable condition. Two of those blankets now covered the dining table. Now the group dined with more heat than light. ¡°We¡¯re not alone.¡± Bessa¡¯s words echoed in the gathering room, stopping her companions in mid-act as they ate. However, she fastened her gaze on Alia. ¡°There¡¯s more to the deconsecration of the Restorer¡¯s temple, isn¡¯t there. Something about it disturbed you.¡± But Alia hesitated. She appeared to be weighing her words. Bessa persisted, ¡°Look, I realize this isn¡¯t the best time to discuss such matters, but we don¡¯t have daylight. We never have daylight. This is a daylight conversation, but we have it by glowlight instead. Let us not go to bed with dark imaginings in our minds. At least if we know what we¡¯re facing, we might plan and find a solution. Speak.¡± Though surrounded by darkness, points of light in the room offered some fuel for courage. Those points came from three glowlights, evenly spaced on the dining room table. Before their last night in Elamis, Bessa and Edana had packed travel-sized glowlights in everyone¡¯s satchel. Shaped like a single flame, the glowlights fit neatly into power scepters styled to look like oil lamps. Two other glowlights lit their sleeping quarters in the next room. The group reserved the last light for the general¡¯s private bath, which was just off the bedroom. Alia, Sheridan, and Tregarde used their wands whenever they were on night watch. This meant; however, that they enjoyed only as much light as necessary to avoid hazards at night. Beyond the table where they sat, the room was swathed in utter darkness. If she squinted, Bessa could barely make out the outline of the apartment door. As it was, anyone¡ªanything¡ªcould lie in wait for them only a few feet away, and they wouldn¡¯t even see it. At last Alia answered her. ¡°We¡¯re not alone. This place is desolate. And so it¡¯s friendly to all kinds of spirits.¡± Edana set down her spoon. ¡°The voices?¡± ¡°There will be more than voices,¡± Alia predicted. ¡°We¡¯re being softened up right now.¡± A cold breeze washed over Bessa¡¯s neck, and she shuddered. She reflexively turned to look behind herself. And saw nothing. She tried hard to banish thoughts of Escamilla from her mind. Bessa was not the only one unsettled. At Alia¡¯s pronouncement, everyone glanced around as if to check for intruders. The group had arranged themselves in a semi-circle around the table, with the effect that no one¡¯s back was to the apartment door. But still. Alia continued, as if she¡¯d said nothing remarkable, ¡°There are no amulets here, did you notice? No wards. They took the phoenix emblems from the Restorer¡¯s temple. That¡¯s when I realized what¡¯s happened here. There¡¯s a reason that ghosts or spirits haunt ruined houses and buildings.¡± ¡°Which is?¡± Bessa leaned forward, curious. However, Tregarde cut in. In his droll voice he said, ¡°Ghosts and Erebossi love to visit our world and hang around. Only thing is, the living usually keep them at bay. Not simply by existing, mind you. No, it¡¯s because we consecrate our dwellings with holy symbols and suchlike. Those repel the dead, and other unlawful spirits. So what do you think happens when people quit a place, but take all their amulets and wards with them?¡± Four and a half centuries. Bessa felt ice floes form in her belly. Four and a half centuries since the fall of Zanbil. The former residents of the fortress had not only scuttled it in advance of their enemies, but Alia pointed out they had spitefully ensured those enemies would not have any spiritual protection once they invaded the fortress. ¡°Neither the Unificationists, nor anyone trapped here with them, were able to reconsecrate the grounds,¡± Alia pointed out. ¡°Maybe they didn¡¯t have time. Maybe the end came too soon for them. But the aftermath is that for centuries this place has become more and more hospitable for Erebossi.¡± ¡°Sorry. Maybe I really should have waited until morning to ask about this after all,¡± Bessa apologized. Edana replied, ¡°It wouldn¡¯t have mattered. The Sleepless won¡¯t allow us to feel peace, no matter what time we speak of them.¡± Sleepless enemy. An Eitanite epithet, bestowed on fellshades. But while a malevolent spirit had no need of sleep, people absolutely did, and the last thing Bessa wanted on her mind before she closed her eyes for the night were thoughts of fellshades. And what it was like to be trapped in their power. Bessa¡¯s tone was a little sharper than she meant it to be when she answered, ¡°I meant that we don¡¯t need to keep each other up screaming from nightmares.¡± She was thinking of herself when she said it, but the look on Sel¨¤na¡¯s face made her hastily add, ¡°Sorry, Sel¨¤na.¡± ¡°We¡¯re under attack,¡± Alia cut in before Sel¨¤na could reply. ¡°I don¡¯t think the queen is behind this one, though.¡± An attack. Bessa lowered her spoon, carelessly allowing it to sink into her soup bowl. The ice floes in her stomach hardened. Alia continued, ¡°Other kinds of spirits. ¡°Mostly spirits of deception, I think. And doubt, and despair.¡± She glanced at Sel¨¤na, then focused again on her soup. Made of leeks and potatoes, the soup was filling enough. Edana had seasoned it well, with what herbs she had brought with her. But unless they found a viridarium¡ªor a way into the Royal Ward¡ª they were soon to be in for an excruciating time. This alone made Bessa resolve to go outside the Gate tower again. She hated venturing into the darkness of the inner city, but what choice did they have? Sheridan now raised his head. ¡°What kind of spirits live in Zanbil? What I mean is, could there be more spirits here we don¡¯t know about? I never heard of the rabisu or the al? before, and you two¡±¡ªhe nodded at Bessa and Edana¡ª¡°never heard of the jiangshi. I just really want to know if any of the spirits hanging around here can take on a fleshly form.¡± Shivers ran down Bessa¡¯s spine and raised the hair on the back of her neck. Damn she wished she¡¯d never brought up the topic now. Not while she could barely see past the length of her arm. Papouli, her father¡¯s father, used to tell her of revenants, ghosts that could assume a corporeal form. Harmless to good people who stumbled across it, the ghost ¡ª Papouli insisted on this point ¡ª only went after little girls who told lies, or sassed their grandmothers. At no point did little Bessa fear this ghost, for she assumed revenants only lived in Pelasgos, where Papouli was from, a land far from Silura, where Bessa was from. And where was Zanbil? But no. It didn¡¯t matter. While Lady Nensela had made Bessa to understand that the Anshani knew of the al?, it didn¡¯t mean the al? only troubled the Anshani. Escamilla had attacked Bessa while she slept in her bed in Valentis. Was he not himself an al?? What concern did fellshades have for borders or geography? Involuntarily, Bessa looked to Sel¨¤na. The girl immediately reacted, saying, ¡°When the priests of Elamis perceive an abyssal attacking, they call out and bind all the abyssals they know. Then they include unnamed abyssals, leaving no stone left unturned.¡± Sheridan looked askance at this. ¡°Why aren¡¯t those spirits bound all the time? How do the priests have to keep doing this? Or do they?¡± ¡°Bindings don¡¯t work the way you think they do,¡± Alia said. ¡°Remember, you¡¯re not dealing with a corporeal being who is exposed to the ravages of time. I can bind you to a chair, but the rope may fray. Or maybe the rope holds, but you waste away, and die if I forget to feed you.¡± ¡°Do tell,¡± Tregarde murmured. The others laughed, and for the first time every one began to relax. The remark earned him a bemused glance from Alia, and Bessa wondered to herself if Alia understood the joke. In some ways, the huntress seemed to have sprung fully formed into existence, as if sown from dragon teeth. Jests and social nuances flew right over her head. However, she did not sound offended or confused when she continued. ¡°My point is this: when those who place the binding die, or cease to keep up their guards, it is the same as ¡®fraying the rope.¡¯ Also, the binders may not have made their ¡®knots¡¯ as tightly as they ought to¡ªthey may have left a loophole. When humans use careless wording in a contract, this leaves room to render it null and void. Erebossi can be quite ¡­ legalistic. And they have had aeons to practice. Especially the ones who preside over particular domains.¡± ¡°Domains? You mean like Friya, the spirit of deception we met in King Amavand¡¯s palace? Or like the scorpion men?¡± Bessa asked. She passed a wineskin to Sel¨¤na, who poured out a cupful. ¡°Correct. Let¡¯s suppose that one abyssal, a king abyssal at that, is fond of violence. Lord of war, perhaps. You and the people of your town bind him in order to keep your town safe from brigands. However, others have not bound this spirit. Gangs of brigands are still feeding the king in some fashion or other. He grows stronger, and stronger, straining the ropes until they snap. And it may be that those gangs have influence over members of your town, and they, too, feed the abyssal king." Alia paused and studied them. For several heartbeats she frankly met their gazes with a penetrating stare of her own. Finally, she said, ¡°This is the Long War. The Aeternity War. Until some distant age we¡¯ll none of us see, every generation will fight this war. Every generation must be vigilant. Some generations ¡ª but not our own ¡ª have the luxury of sleeping and forgetting. But the Sleepless are ever awake, and their memories are long. Gird yourselves. We must do battle. Do you stand ready?¡± Edana was the first to answer her. ¡°Of course. And this particular battle, this particular attack? What defenses are called for? Can we go on the offense?¡± But Tregarde held up a hand and shook his head, clear warning. ¡°This isn¡¯t one of those situations where we can all agree to just not doubt ourselves or be brave. The voices mostly harass us when we¡¯re alone, I think. I keep hearing them prod me to do something right now. They mock me for wasting time. Fair play to them, because I keep thinking I must act now. The voices constantly reinforce that.¡± ¡°Goading you to imperil yourself. And imperil all of us, too, likely enough,¡± Edana said, though her voice softened with sympathy. ¡°Let us not be isolated, then. By no less than two and two we should stick together. But that wouldn¡¯t change the fact that the voices are real,¡± Bessa pointed out. The voices were real. Softening them up, as she privately feared and as Alia had spoken aloud. When the voices grew bolder, what would come next? ¡°Is there no way to expel them?¡± Bessa pursued. Once again memories reared up, of her experience at the hands of Escamilla, the Third Eidolon. Trapping her in an endless nightmare, the fell spirit had tormented her so ceaselessly that only her iron, unshakable faith that Edana would rescue her kept Bessa from succumbing to Escamilla¡¯s campaign to yield up her life. And Edana had justified Bessa¡¯s faith in her. But if Edana were too gripped by fear, she could succumb to whatever the Voices had in store for them. Of all of them, Edana was the only one present who knew the language to activate and use the thresher¡­ ¡°Usually we have two options in this situation,¡± Alia said. ¡°Either we make this place inhospitable, or we make ourselves inhospitable. To be inhospitable we must resolve to not be fearful. But those options work best when the threat is temporary. Already we¡¯ve been here longer than we¡¯d like. All it would take is for one of us to slip up once.¡± Tregarde looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. ¡°Or we evocate the voices?¡± Silence. Part of Bessa wanted to object to the idea. The laws of Rasena Valentis banned death priests. Such powers required interaction with Erebossi, the very act the lawmakers set out to prevent. Co-equal with forbidding death priests, Rasena Valentis also forbade the practice of evocation magic. Some of the more sly evocati claimed to be putting to rest unrestful ghosts and such. But if they could lay down a ghost, might they not be the ones to draw it up in the first place? The law assumed as much about anyone in that trade. And now, Tregarde was suggesting they bring the tormenting spirits fully into the Cosmos. Where, presumably, he could banish them to Erebossa, and away from them. If the evocation rites worked, they would be safe. If they worked. But at Tregarde¡¯s suggestion, Alia became rigid, sitting ramrod straight in her chair. ¡°I don¡¯t hold with that sort of thing. You evocate a spirit, and all you do is make it easier for another of its kind to come here. Bringing one into our realm is just like breaking in new shoes: uncomfortable at first, then it¡¯s easier to walk in.¡± ¡°What about making ourselves inhospitable? Or this place? How would we accomplish that?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°Binding spells?¡± Sheridan ventured. He glanced at Alia. ¡°Suppose we placed kolossoi and such in locations around the fortress. Couldn¡¯t you bless them?¡± Alia cocked her head as she considered the idea. ¡°Consecrating the citadel is a good idea. But we need to be prepared to deal with assaults on our psyches as well. That is what we carry with us, wherever we are.¡± This last earned a nod from Edana, but Bessa¡¯s relief died within her when she noticed that Sel¨¤na put her face in her hands. Right. As Zephyra, Sel¨¤na had walked bodily into and out of Erebossa. An experience she obviously did not cherish. Nevertheless, the idea of cleansing the fortress energized them, even as they headed for sleep. The blankets in the camphor wood trunk were large enough for Bessa to cover herself, and Edana on her right, and Alia on her left. An extra blanket overlapped Sheridan, Alia, and Bessa. Meanwhile, Sel¨¤na and Tregarde took the first watch of the night. When they removed the power scepter from their glowlights, Bessa hunkered down into the covers. ¡°Sleep well everyone,¡± she said. ¡°Tomorrow we fight back.¡± Chapter 11 - Part 1: Shadow Fang Chapter XI, Part 1 Shadow Fang In which Edana uncovers an enemy When they awakened the next day; however, Edana silently dissented. All night she had tossed and turned, trying to work out what made her uneasy about Bessa¡¯s plan. When the men once more dragged in a cauldron of the previous night¡¯s meltwater, the answer hit her. Taking a glowlight with her, she hurried to the library. On the fruitwood table she¡¯d used as her ¡°discard¡± pile, she found it. One of the scrolls featured drawings of what looked like wells, with strange gigantic funnels that appeared to be an arrangement of leaves hovering over them. ¡°Cloud cisterns,¡± Sel¨¤na said at the time, translating the hieroglyphics beneath the images. ¡°These harvest water from the clouds. The largest one should be in the center of the fortress. The other six are scattered in different districts.¡± Here and now Edana studied the scroll carefully, then rolled it up and tucked it under her arm. Zanbil was built by natives of Athyr-ai, and the ancient Athyrii were known for their death magics. Athyr-ai. Death magics. ¡°Shadow Fang,¡± Edana murmured. She promptly clamped a hand over her her mouth, annoyed at herself for having said the name aloud. Shadow Fang. Papa¡¯s war stories had haunted her dreams last night. Combined with Tregarde¡¯s belief as to how the fortress barrier was created, she had a strong suspicion about what had become of the cloud cisterns. Everyone had scattered to gather supplies. To make effigies for Bessa¡¯s plan, they would need wax, clay, straw, or sticks. Materials precious for the fuel they might serve as¡ªbut also because they would not easy to find. Scribes would keep wax, Bessa pointed out, and thus she had set out to raid every office she could inside the Gate Tower. Edana, too, raided the offices, but for a much different purpose. The means of defense Bessa was attempting went against the ways of the Eitanim, and Edana would not yield or compromise on that score. More, Tregarde¡¯s warning about risking Alia echoed in her mind. Divide and conquer. The massive doors of the gate tower creaked on their hinges as Edana opened them. The echoes boomed against the walls. Edana winced, then hesitated. ¡°Where are you going?¡± ¡°Ah!¡± Edana jumped a foot off the floor. Startled, she whirled to find Sheridan standing behind her. He was jamming his hands into his gloves. Not another word did he say to her, as he was holding his wand between his clenched teeth. The odd position of the light distorted his features, giving him an eerie countenance. She waved the scroll at him. ¡°The Zanbellians harvested fresh water in cisterns throughout the city. The closest one is in the main square. Come with me, please. I think I know what we¡¯ll find there.¡± Locking his fingers together, Sheridan fitted his deerskin cloves more snugly on his hands. Satisfied, he took the wand out of his teeth and held it up, allowing her to better see him. And for him to better see her, she supposed. ¡°Fresh water? Do you think the harvesters still work?¡± he asked, his voice laced with doubt. ¡°No,¡± she admitted. Ruthless and discriminate. Or ruthless and unable or unwilling to avoid sweeping up every inhabitant in the fortress. Those were the choices she had imagined for the Conservationists. The state of the cisterns would tell her which path they had taken. ¡°Then why go?¡± ¡°Because we cannot do battle unarmed. Either the dead are the ones whispering to us ¡­ or something else is. Come with me to the cistern and let¡¯s find out.¡± By tacit agreement, they shut the door fast behind them. Maybe nothing lurked in the fortress complex with them. But why allow an opportunity for something or someone to slip into the gate tower if they didn¡¯t have to?Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Having traversed the so-called South Street the previous day, Edana led Sheridan easily enough towards the center of the complex. Until they came to the barricades. ¡°Sweet merciful Huntress,¡± Sheridan swore. Bodies lay scattered around enclosed chariots and wagons. All of them were wearing yellow kilts, the color of the Unificationists. Men with gaping wounds on their chests, slashes on their throats, or deep divots in their heads stared sightlessly at them. Edana recoiled at one corpse in particular. Empty eye sockets and dried blood all over his open mouth made her think of the convicts devoured by vultures on the Thieves Road in Valentis. Beside her, Sheridan stood rooted to the spot, which surprised her. Had he never seen the bodies of slain men before? Not the remnants of battlefields, nor even the mass graves of convicts? ¡°Come,¡± she said gently. Sheridan followed her in silence. And it was in that silence that she heard it. Whisper-quiet at first. Pat-pat. Every step she took, pat-pat. When she stopped, the sound stopped. Far off, at first. Perhaps six blocks away? Squinting into the darkness, Edana held out her shield arm to extend the reach of her glowlight. Nothing. The light showed her nothing. Sheridan sidled closer to her. ¡°I hear it, too,¡± he murmured. Edana turned. The dark, massive shape of the gate tower loomed behind them ¡­ a mile away. With snow as high as her boots, running was out of the question. Hiding would be the better option, and with this in mind she stomped through the snow toward the door of one building. The plaque on the wall beside the door likely announced the purpose of the building, but she could not decipher the text. She tried the door. Locked. The next building, also locked. And the third. At this final defeat she turned now to face the barricade. Exactly the same as the barrier, the point of a barricade would either be to keep something out, or something in. Given what she expected to find in the main square, she gambled that this barrier had been intended to obstruct an advancing enemy. Without a word she seized Sheridan¡¯s hand and made for an empty gap between carts. Sensibly enough, Sheridan made no audible protest, nor asked her foolish questions. Instead he trudged between bodies and debris, making a path towards what appeared to be a storefront. Happily for them, the door had already succumbed to enemy fire. Ash and gravel crunched beneath their feet as they crossed the threshold. Edana had only gone six feet when Sheridan suddenly pulled himself free of her grasp. He turned on his heel and went back to the threshold, muddied now by the their snowy footprints. ¡°What is it?¡± she asked. With his foot Sheridan spread the snow and ashes flat over the threshold. Then he swept up a long charred stick from the ground. Quickly, he began incising a series of strokes and lines into the ground. When he finished, he stared for a long moment at his handiwork. Edana came beside him and peered down at the ashes. ¡°An eye? Is that an eagle eye?¡± The Huntress was often represented as a golden eagle. But amulets invoking her protection often used a sharply stylized eagle eye. Usually with an amber orb serving as the iris. ¡°We don¡¯t know what¡¯s out here with us,¡± Sheridan said flatly. Shadow Fang. The eagle-eye symbol would be useless. Perhaps. But until she was sure, Edana decided to hold her tongue. Even though she and Sheridan spoke in low tones, in such desolation as the inner complex their voices would carry. From a heap of rugs nearby Edana selected the largest, easiest one to pull down to the floor. She wiped her feet on it, and tried not to contemplate how much gold the rug would have fetched in Rasena Valentis, had she not ruined it just now. If she was wrong about what stalked them she would need as much traction as possible to run. Besides, they would walk more quietly if the soles of their boots didn¡¯t squish. Apparently Sheridan agreed with her, because he followed suit. They wound their way through the shop, stepping over broken displays, pottery, copper cooking utensils scattered over the floor, and bolts of fine fabric. In its time the shop must have been a grand general goods store. Its dimensions suggested it was large enough to have more than one entrance. With the back entrance leading to ¡­ ¡­ the main square. She inhaled sharply at the sight before her. Chest high, a dull circle of bronze dominated the center of the courtyard. An immense, tangled web of what looked like gossamer partially covered the circle, and partially pooled around it. The cloud cistern. Having come so far, Edana steeled herself and rushed forward. She held her wand light over the cistern and looked down. Bodies. A tangled mass of bodies littered the well. Hands, feet, heads poked above a watery sludge. Fully visible bodies; however, never made it into the water because the stack of corpses came so high up. Slowly, Edana let out a breath. Plans took shape in her mind now, as she confirmed her suspicions. She turned to find Sheridan standing in the doorway. As in the library, he stood guard against whatever might be behind them. ¡°I know what we¡¯re dealing with,¡± she said softly, coming up behind him. ¡°Let us make our stand here.¡± Chapter 11: Shadow Fang Concluded Chapter 11, Part 2 Shadow Fang Back inside the general store, Edana prevailed upon Sheridan to help her lay down a rug on the main floor path leading from the front door. The eight foot circle of silk and wool served her purposes nicely. The effort of moving it, and their desire for silence meant bought her time before she would explain her purpose. ¡°What¡¯s coming for us has excellent hearing,¡± was all she said, and put a finger to her lips. Once they finished, Sheridan crossed to the center of the rug and faced the doorway. Arms folded across his chest, his posture exuded impatience. But he said nothing as she took a coin pouch from her belt. The fruit of her labors in her earlier office raids. From the pouch she drew forth a Zanbellian coin. Moonboow steel. The light of the lunar rainbow, brought to Thuraia when the Huntress pulled it from the sky and sowed it across the world. And now, proverbial bullets for her sling. Starting from the back, behind Sheridan, Edana set down coins along inner edge of the rug. When she came to Sheridan¡¯s right he glanced at her. Again she put her finger to her lips. She continued on, along the edge of the rug. She left nothing in her pouch, covering circumference of the circle. Sheridan now arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. Edana came to stand beside him in the center of the rug. ¡°Now,¡± she whispered. ¡°De-activate your wand.¡± Without waiting for his response, she removed her flame-shaped glowlight from its oil-lamp shaped base. Immediately the room darkened. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, Sheridan unsheathed his sacred knife. Then he uttered a word. Shadows descended at once, swallowing them up so they could not see each other. In the darkness Edana fingered her silver bracelet, tracing with her finger the Eitanite symbol for life engraved into it. Pat-pat. Pat-pat. Pat-pat. Closer. Shadow Fang¡¯s footsteps on the snow grated on Edana¡¯s nerves. ¡°What¡¯s coming for us?¡± Sheridan demanded. Then he lowered his voice again. ¡°What did you expect to find at the cistern?¡± ¡°It¡¯s more what I was hoping not to find. Do you know of battles?¡± Silence. In her mind¡¯s eye Edana pictured him staring at her as if she were crazy. After a while he said, ¡°What does it matter? Were you a soldier?¡± ¡°No. Most of what I know of war comes from my father¡¯s stories. When he was my age, he was conscripted into the legions of Rasena Valentis. He served with Bessa¡¯s father. What concerns us now is what he said concerning tactics. If the goal of an army is to destroy they will burn the crops, salt the fields, and poison the wells. If their goal is conquest they will do none of those things, because the crops, the field, and the wells will belong to them.¡± ¡°And ¡­?¡± ¡°The Conservationists slew the Unificationists and tossed their bodies into the cisterns. Which means they had no intention of returning to this fortress. They didn¡¯t mean to re-use it. And they meant for the survivors of their massacre to die. Athyrii people. Though we call them Zanbellians, their ancestors were from Athyr-ai. Tregarde said the Athyrii of old didn¡¯t share our perception of death magics. And I believe him, because of something my father experienced.¡± Pat-pat. Thump. Thump. Thump. Their stalker had reached the barricades. Mundane carts and wagons would not deter it, Edana knew, so she put no faith in them. Steeling herself, she took two steps forward, and maneuvered herself in front Sheridan. ¡°Stay behind me,¡± she said. Fulfilling her expectations, loud crashes filled the air. Ah, so Shadow Fang was indeed corporeal. Papa was right about that. Then came the growl. Loud, guttural, and deep. Heart pounding, Edana fixed her gaze in the direction of the doorway. Yellow eyes peered back at her. ¡°What is that?¡± Sheridan no longer bothered with a whisper. Not that she blamed him; stealth was not an option now that the enemy could see them. And she knew their enemy sensed them. Sensed Sheridan in particular. Movement behind her told her Sheridan was charging forward. Likely he intended to stand beside her and face the monster. Immediately she shot her free hand out at the height of his chest, smacking into it. ¡°Stay behind me,¡± she snapped. ¡°This is their enforcer. Shadow Fang. Note how the eyes are low to the ground. That¡¯s because she takes the form of a crocodile. Stay behind me.¡±This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. To her gratification, Sheridan did as she asked. Trusting her? ¡°A crocodile?¡± ¡°In Karnassus,¡± she continued, ¡°a sorcerer sowed darkness. He did so by breaking all of the customs of the Athyrii concerning their dead. No burials, no entombment or rituals. Just murdered people and left their bodies hidden in hard to find places. Papa said the sewers were a favorite spot. Cellars, too. And then, in the cover of night, the sorcerer invoked Shadow Fang. She Who Swallows Souls. Intercepting the souls of the dead so they couldn¡¯t even go to the Place of Judgment. Not to the Everlasting, or the Abyssal Serpent.¡± ¡°Another kind of Interceptor?¡± Edana jolted, struck by his insight. ¡°Yes¡­¡± Crack! The crocodile snapped its jaws. And ever forward came the yellow eyes. Right over the eagle-eye symbol of the Huntress it stepped. The battle joined, Edana crossed her wrist over her face. The beastly thing sees all too well in the dark. So Papa had groused in his telling of the story. For him the dark-sight of Shadow Fang was a bane. But its ability suited her purposes just fine: the symbols on her bracelet would be visible to the monster¡¯s eyes. Ssssss! Shadow Fang¡¯s hiss told her it recognized her now as a threat. Now Edana spoke loudly, allowing her voice to ring out into the darkness. ¡°I know what you are. Shadow Fang. She Who Swallows Souls. I am no meal for you.¡± The boast must have angered Shadow Fang, for she snapped her jaws again. Boldly, Edana stepped forward. Insatiable. That croc starts feasting on the dead. Starts. But that¡¯s not how it ends. ¡°Have you starved here, Shadow Fang? No one to eat after all this time? You¡¯re hungry?¡± Of course. Shadow Fang was territorial. Never did it stray from the place of its first victims. That was the infernal genius of the spell. But the soul-swallower would sense Sheridan. Sense him, and hunger for him. ¡°Don¡¯t come closer, or I will destroy you,¡± Edana threatened. Thwap! Shadow Fang¡¯s tail, perhaps, lashing the floor. A challenge? Well, then. Fall back. One step back. Clickety-click-click as crocodile claws scrambled against the stone floor. ¡°Your doom shall be sweet,¡± Edana replied. Second step. This time, she reached back, her fingers grasping for Sheridan¡¯s clothes. In answer he seized her hand, yanking her backwards. Yelping in surprise, she crashed into his chest. But Sheridan held steady, and Edana righted herself quickly. At that moment, Shadow Fang lunged. Hot, fetid air washed over Edana as the shadow-crocodile snorted. ¡°Light! Light, Sheridan!¡± Silvery light bloomed. All at once the room was illuminated, birthing light and shadow both. That was when they saw it. Only a hand¡¯s-breadth from Edana, a powerfully built, nine-foot long crocodile snapped its jaws. Its eyes narrowed in the brightness. The beast growled, in rage or challenge or both. To their shock and horror, Shadow Fang reared up at once on its tail. Should it crash down it would land right on top of them ¡­ With eye-blink speed Sheridan dodged. Taking Edana with him, he made for the right of the circle. Edana unsheathed her moon bow-steel knives. ¡°By the light of the heavens I banish you! By the Life Giver, I abjure you!¡± Shadow Fang crashed down. Denied her prey, she whirled, facing Edana and Sheridan. Rays of light shot up from the floor. Each filament of light, sized according to the coins Edana had planted, shot forward and joined the white flames of Edana¡¯s knives. She crossed both knives over her face, directing them outward towards the crocodile. She Who Swallows Souls reared up once more. But the roar died in her throat as the light pierced her shadowy bulk. Pinpricks of light formed in her belly. Then came the screams of agony. Loud, long wails. Souls. Edana¡¯s breath caught, but her hands did not waver. Fearlessly she advanced upon the now-helpless devourer of souls. ¡°Release them! Release them and begone!¡± Whether Shadow Fang willed it or not, her jaws opened. Wide. And wider. Torrents of golden light poured from her mouth. Still her jaws widened, unhinged. With a war cry, Sheridan flung out his knife. As though plunging into a pool the knife struck deep into Shadow Fang¡¯s belly. All at once golden waves of light burst through her jaws and belly. Against such light, She Who Swallows Souls dissolved. Shadow Fang was no more. Golden columns of light swirled around her and up, up, up. Into the ceiling and through it. So entranced was she that Edana stood motionless, staring slack-jawed. Souls. She had freed souls. Whatever eternal fate awaited them, they could go to them now, unhindered. Their gratitude washed over her. Thank you. This voice on the wind she did not mind at all. A tear came to her eye, and she let it flow freely. ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± she replied. Sheridan¡¯s touch on her arm broke her reverie. ¡°Look.¡± Her gaze followed where his finger pointed, and her heart somersaulted. Outside, nothing was obscured in darkness. Now, at long last, daylight covered them. Triumphant, Edana ran outside, Sheridan fast on her heels. Though the edges of the inner complex remained in darkness, for everything else within a radius of the main square, daylight had come. Edana squinted upward, in search of a sun. But no such celestial orb graced the sky. Where was the light coming from? Neither moon nor star showed itself to them, either. Again, Sheridan broke her reverie. ¡°So this is how we fight. Let¡¯s go get the others.¡± Chapter 12: In the Restorers Temple Chapter 12 In the Restorer''s Temple In which they regroup in the eye of the storm As it happened, the emergence of daylight sent Bessa hurrying down South Street, with the others close at her heels. ¡°Edana! Edana!¡± she called out. From inside the barricades Edana glanced about. Where the utter dark of night had made the sight of the dead men a thing of terror, in daylight she felt only disgust and pity for their fates. They would need proper burials; to leave them in place would be shameful and unseemly. Though freeing their souls lifted her own, the site of their slaughter was no place to rejoice. With that thought in mind she fled the main square. Halfway between the Gate tower and the main square she met Bessa. In their childhood Bessa had been the quickest to initiate hugs. But memory of Shadow Fang¡¯s eyes made Edana throw her arms around Bessa. She clasped her oldest friend fiercely, shocking her. Guard her with your life. Matrona Aurelia¡¯s voice echoed in Edana¡¯s memory. When Bessa¡¯s grandmother insisted they travel together, she did so in part to honor the blood bond between their fathers. But also because she firmly believed the women would have no peer in protecting each other¡¯s backs. Guard her with your life. In faith Bessa had accompanied her to Zanbil. Neither of them had guessed that one such as Shadow Fang stalked the once-fabled city. But Shadow Fang would have devoured Bessa though she yet breathed, had Bessa the misfortune of crossing its path. Insatiable. That croc starts feasting on the dead. Starts. But that¡¯s not how it ends. Each soul it consumed increased Shadow Fang¡¯s power. Inevitably, an unchecked Shadow Fang gained the power to suck the breath of life from the living. ¡°Edana?¡± Bessa peeled Edana off of her. She stepped back to look her in the eyes, concern evident in her face. Just then Tregarde caught up to them, followed by Alia and Sel¨¤na. ¡°What have you done?¡± The note of chastisement in his voice told her what he¡¯d feared, but Edana elected not to take offense. After all, unlike Bessa he did not have a lifetime of experience with her. Trust must be earned, after all. Exhaling, Edana steeled herself. Choosing her words judiciously, she addressed herself to Bessa. ¡°Do you remember the story my father told us about how he and your father had to fight three soul devourers in Karnassus?¡± Bessa¡¯s mouth formed a perfect circle as understanding dawned in her eyes. ¡°So that¡¯s what happened here. No wonder it was so dark! But I thought Uncle Min¡¯da said you have to use the light of the heavens to destroy them?¡± In answer Edana tapped the hilt of her knife, sheathed at her hip. ¡°Moonbow steel. And I made a circle with Zanbellian coins. We can use those against the other Shadow Fangs.¡± ¡°Shadow Fangs?¡± Alia asked. She leaned against the stone fence enclosing the small forecourt of a brick building. Overhead swung a sign bearing an image of an empty saddle flanked by a gryphon and a pegasus. In its day the store must have been prosperous, for thin sheets of alabaster made up the panes of its narrow windows. Wet snow would have damaged the panes, were it not for the heavy awning extending over the forecourt. Should the owner have pulled back the awning, light would filter into the shop through the panes, glorious and golden. Bathed now in bright light, Edana didn¡¯t mind standing in the open. But impatience frothed inside her when she looked up and saw the shadows still covering the western, southern, and eastern part of the little city. So she spoke to them of the map of the sky cisterns, and the befouling of the cistern in the main square. And the implications of that particular tactic. ¡°This is who we¡¯re dealing with,¡± Edana said, turning on her heel, in the direction of the barricades. ¡°Yes, I know the men who did this are all dead now. But their faction would have had uncontested rule over the Royal Ward. Do you think they would not have made sure to inculcate each generation with ideas about their oh-so-hated Unificationists? To justify doing any evil to them?¡± ¡°Meaning what? We were already planning on being discreet about our purpose here,¡± Bessa pointed out. ¡°My point is that from the Conservationist point of view, we¡¯re the descendants of the wicked who perpetrated the Age of Iniquity. The people they were trying so ¡­ ruthlessly ¡­ to stay safe from. They may not allow us to be discreet. In some way or another, we have to prove to them we don¡¯t mean them harm.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, do you suppose the soul eaters are located around the other cisterns?¡± ¡°That would make sense, if I understand the strategy of the Conservationists. First they contaminate the water with the bodies with enough bodies for a Shadow Fang to feast on. Enough so that anyone who attempts to go near the cistern will be swallowed up.¡± Studying Edana¡¯s map, Tregarde said, ¡°I reckon we could clear the inner fortress today, assuming we can reach the cisterns. But if the outer complex is as vast as I think it is, it¡¯s going to take more than a day.¡± ¡°Even setting aside my rule about stopping outside activities at noon?¡± Alia asked. ¡°Even with that. We shouldn¡¯t go too far from the Gate Tower until we can see better what we¡¯re dealing with.¡± Thus they focused on clearing the inner fortress. From inside the general store Edana retrieved her moonbow-steel coins. With her map to guide them they found the other befouled cisterns, and the shadow crocodiles patrolling the vicinity. Two hours past noon, they destroyed the last shadow fang inside the inner complex. The vastness of the shadows between the inner and outer walls of the fortress made it clear they could not complete their task in a single day. More, the rumbling of their stomachs stopped them from continuing on. This time, dinner was not a grim affair, but rather one filled with triumph and renewed hope they would complete their mission. However, when the appointed hour came to sleep, they discovered a new facet of Zanbil: the ¡°sun,¡± wherever it might be, never set. Shadows never lengthened as when the day ended and night commenced. At first they supposed they might be in a land of eternal day¡ªas though they were in the Far North¡ªbut Bessa¡¯s favorite travelogues spoke of the wonders of seeing the sun at midnight. The persistent brightness obliged them to close heavy drapes over the windows in order to sleep. ¡°What a strange boon,¡± Alia said, before claiming the first watch of what ought to have been night. Even with the light pouring through the windows now, they maintained their vigilance. From her sleeping pallet, Edana listened to the sound of her companions breathing. Divide and conquer. Hours ago she had braved the darkness to determine whether the voices on the wind belonged to the unrestful dead, or to malicious spirits of Erebossa, or to both. Come bedtime, and she and her companions had achieved almost complete victory over the darkness of Zanbil¡¯s gate fortress. Yet the breezes continued. No more did she discern whispers; however. Did this mean she had bought herself time? Certainly she had uplifted her friends¡¯ morale, but she could not help but consider Tregarde¡¯s belief as to how the Zanbellian¡¯s had erected the barrier over the gate fortress. If they indeed enslaved the dead, the soul swallowers may have contributed to that tactic. Oh, by the Sower, would it not be sweet if defeating the shadow crocodiles weakened the barrier, too? She made a mental note to consult with Tregarde on the matter. One more task, on her long list of tasks. But that was for tomorrow, which would bring its own evils. For now, she allowed herself to exult in the victory she¡¯d managed today.
¡°We need to find a respectful end for the bodies in the streets,¡± Edana pointed out when they all awakened hours later. The others heeded her suggestion with all speed: the blazing light hastened an end to the snow which had preserved the bodies. Already Bessa¡¯s makeshift meltwater cisterns had overflowed. Precious drops they must avoid wasting, given their inability to replace it. Dealing with the bodies in the cisterns proved to be simple. First, they worked together to lift heavy boards over the mouths. At Edana¡¯s suggestion, they collected the swords of the fallen soldiers. The ones in the best condition served as the basis for cairns over the cisterns¡¯ covers. Stacking the stones in pyramid formation, they covered the swords up to their hilt, which formed a grave marker. By early afternoon they finished marking the last watery grave. The bodies in the street presented a different problem. Fortunately, they noticed a curious feature of several buildings: ramps leading off the streets down to doors below the ground level. ¡°Those must be cellars,¡± Bessa speculated. She was right. Even what Edana called the ¡°general store¡± proved to have one, which made things convenient for them. Meanwhile, because they could not anoint the bodies with oil in accordance with their customs, they settled for shrouding the dead in fine linen they found in the store. As respectfully as they could they loaded the bodies into carts and pulled them down the ramp to the cellar. Working all day in the heat meant they built up a sweat. By then the last of the snows had melted away. What remained in Bessa¡¯s cisterns would have to last them, and no one objected when she decreed they must take conservative measures in bathing. In the meantime, daylight gave them courage. By pairs they split up to explore the inner fortress, hunting for spell books that would aid them in destroying the barrier. Or portals that might lead to the Royal Ward. But the question of water pressed in on them, and for this reason Bessa had the men joined her in the Restorer¡¯s temple. In Bessa¡¯s imaginings they needed only to pry open the floor. Seeing it illuminated by the light beaming through the high windows, the trap door now appeared to be constructed of bronze. Until, that is, she tapped the covering with a heavy staff she¡¯d found on the floor. Shock jolted her, from her fingertips into her whole body. From her slackened fingers the staff tumbled to the floor, landing with a resounding clang. ¡°Ah!¡± she cried out. Tregarde yanked her back, pulling her onto the next step up. Still unbalanced, Bessa swayed on her feet. With Tregarde holding her shoulders and Sheridan clasping her arms, she managed to avoid falling onto the metal floor. ¡°Are you alright? What happened?¡± Sheridan asked. His brows knitted together as he frowned. Haltingly, she described the nerve-jangling effect of touching the metal covering, albeit indirectly. To her surprise, Tregarde let out a frustrated exhale, and Sheridan rubbed his temples. ¡°What is it?¡± she demanded. ¡°This metal covering isn¡¯t a regular floor,¡± Sheridan said. ¡°It¡¯s a ward. Don¡¯t test it again, what you got was only a mild rebuke. There¡¯s nothing we can do about the ward. Only a Restorite priest can banish it.¡± A wave of dismay crashed over her, dousing her hopes. Bessa¡¯s nostrils flared as she contemplated her next move. The time had come, she decided. Time to forge a new Restorite.
Far below the curtain wall on the eastern side of the inner complex, Alia watched her companions moving to-and-fro. From her vantage point she saw Bessa enter the Restorer¡¯s temple with Tregarde and Sheridan. From her vantage point, she also saw what they did not: Sel¨¤na following after them. The girl did not enter the temple when they did. Rather, she waited behind one of the phoenix statues marking the entryway to the temple.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°And what are you up to?¡± Alia mused aloud. Her voice carried, but she didn¡¯t care. For all she knew it carried all the way to the streets of the inner city. But if Sel¨¤na heard her, she gave no indication. At least, none visible to Alia¡¯s dryad-blessed eyes. Sel¨¤na remained unmoving, except to crouch lower behind the statue when Bessa hurried past minutes later. She continued hiding herself when Tregarde and Sheridan exited the temple. The men went west, and Bessa turned onto South Street before Sel¨¤na at last emerged from hiding and went into the temple. Well. The girl had gone exactly where Alia needed her to go. Exactly where she needed her to go, if Alia had the faintest idea how to accomplish the task she¡¯d set for herself: train Sel¨¤na to hear the voice of the Restorer. If. If Alia had understood Aunt Nalini properly, then Sel¨¤na was a corrupted Restorite. However, Sel¨¤na herself insisted she was no sorceress. But a priestess? A sorceress was born, a priestess was made. Made, by those who knew how to train them. In either case, the student typically possessed an affinity for the power she might serve. What was she to do with Sel¨¤na, who lacked both a blessing to be a sorceress, and the anointing of a naiad to become a priestess? So lost was Alia in her own thoughts that she didn¡¯t hear Bessa¡¯s approach until she¡¯d come within arm¡¯s length of her. Alia jumped, startled. ¡°We need to talk about Sel¨¤na,¡± Bessa said without preamble. At the look on Alia¡¯s face she added, ¡°I saw someone on the wall and figured it was you. Edana is gathering incense to offer to the Sower, so she wouldn¡¯t be patrolling just now.¡± Alia nodded. ¡°To what end should we discuss Sel¨¤na? You¡¯re not a priestess. What do you know of training us?¡± Bessa stepped past her, as if she were heading for the eastern watch tower. But she only went three paces before abruptly turning on her heel. She stared down at the Restorer¡¯s temple. Admittedly it was a grand edifice, with gleaming golden granite pylons and white columns with swans for capitals. Alia; however, kept her eyes to the west, curious where her apprentice was going with Tregarde. ¡°Nothing,¡± Bessa said. ¡°I know nothing of training priests, except that you go deep underground and commune with gods. Or abyssals, or the dead of your order¡ª¡± ¡°That¡¯s sorcerers,¡± Alia snapped. ¡°Shadow sorcerers. I was taught above ground, by my mother and my aunts. We didn¡¯t need to hide our doings from the celestials, as if what is below the ground could be hidden from them. What a childish idea!¡± Still focused on the temple, Bessa shrugged. ¡°Fine, that¡¯s not how priests train. But I don¡¯t think it matters what you do just yet. I think what does matter is that Sel¨¤na is not prepared to even start with lessons. There¡¯s too much between you and her, for one thing.¡± Heat rose inside Alia. Her sable eyes swung at toward the Siluran, who still did not turn to face her. Relentless, Bessa continued, ¡°I know you said you¡¯d forgive her. Have you? Did you tell her you forgave her, during your trip with her to the temple of the dead?¡± Alia clenched her teeth. ¡°I went there to give peace to the dead! Not the living.¡± ¡°So that¡¯s a no,¡± Bessa retorted. ¡°You must tell her, Alia. Huntress. Of course it will be hard. To put a fine point on it, you can¡¯t technically forgive her¡ªbecause you¡¯re not the one that Zephyra wronged. Your aunts were her victims. And everyone Zephyra murdered. Only they can forgive her, because they were the ones she slew. But they¡¯re dead. I suppose that is why we execute murderers, because the only ones who can forgive them cannot do so. We the living take vengeance, if we can¡¯t have any other justice. But I already killed Zephyra. You must hold Sel¨¤na blameless, and you must tell her you hold her blameless. And it must be true when you say it.¡± Now Bessa turned, her eyes meeting Alia¡¯s. Stern, impassive, her expression reminded Alia of Samara¡¯s when she had given Alia a command. Dryads brooked no disobedience. Frustrated, Alia sucked her teeth. Was Bessa right? Did she hold back in her duty because she could not bring herself to aid the one who wore the face of her enemy? Blameless. Was Sel¨¤na not innocent, a little girl who lost her family to the machinations of a wicked king and his demon queen? By what transgression did she deserve Alia¡¯s hatred? None. If anything, Sel¨¤na belonged to the class of people Alia had once vowed to protect when she joined the Watch: the innocent, the weak, the wronged. And, Alia reminded herself, the Huntress once desired the death of Amavand. So quickly did Alia carry out this order! Gladly she had killed him, gladly she had destroyed his good name before his people. But in no uncertain terms the Huntress had forbade Alia to kill Zephyra¡ªSel¨¤na¡ªand it occurred to Alia that nursing a grudge against the girl might be the quickest path to disobedience. Slow. She much too slow to accept the implications of the command the Huntress had given her. The thought made her head and shoulders feel all the heavier, and Alia exhaled in exhaustion. Yes, Bessa was right, she admitted to herself. Carrying a grudge against Sel¨¤na was too expensive a luxury. With everything at stake, Alia must find a way to restore Sel¨¤na. Aloud she said, ¡°I will see to her.¡± She was not surprised Bessa insisted on coming with her. With sunlight streaming in, the ruined beauty of the temple became clearer. The Conservationists had long ago stripped it of its tapestries and curtains, perhaps unwilling to let the indigo fabrics fall into the hands of the Unificationists. But they had not defaced the walls of enameled brick, which depicted images of the naiads attending to wounded soldiers in their sacred grottoes. The women found Sel¨¤na in the spring room, sitting on the top step that led down to the pool. Sel¨¤na sat with her back to the door. The large pillow below her protected her from the cold tiles on which she sat. ¡°May we intrude?¡± Bessa asked. Sel¨¤na whirled to her feet. The surprised look on her face changed to wariness. ¡°Is there something you wish me to do?¡± ¡°You already know: help save Thuraia,¡± Bessa said. Her roguish smile made Alia glad she had come along; it occurred to her the Siluran had a way of putting others at ease. But Sel¨¤na¡¯s shoulder¡¯s tensed. ¡°I don¡¯t have magic.¡± With a shrug Bess continued her approach, until she came within an arm¡¯s length from the girl. The women stood eye to eye, for they were the same height, Alia noticed. And the Siluran stood tall compared to Lyrcanians, at least five-eight or so. ¡°Irrelevant,¡± Bessa replied. ¡°Sorcery has nothing to do with the part you¡¯re to play in this.¡± She cast a dubious eye over the pillows scattered about the steps, drenched as they were in dust. With a firm shake of her head she sat down resolutely on the cold tiles of the topmost step. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, Sel¨¤na sat also. Though tempted to hang back, Alia suspected doing so would only keep Sel¨¤na on edge. At last it dawned on her what the situation looked like from Sel¨¤na¡¯s point of view, and a pang of pity came to her then. She had been cruel to the girl. The realization spurred her to take her place at Sel¨¤na¡¯s left. Before the girl could react, Bessa began speaking again. ¡°Are you scared? I was scared. I am scared. But I was particularly scared after I met the Fire Lords and found out what the giants did to the Salamandra. Do you know they are not native to Thuraia?¡± Silence. After a moment Sel¨¤na ventured, ¡°Artostes told Zephyra. The Salamandra lost their world after the giants were claimed.¡± This last startled Bessa and Alia. ¡°What do you mean ¡®claimed¡¯? By Rahqu?¡± Bessa asked. ¡°That would be step two. Or three. Step one is their existence. Why do they exist? Huntress, you know what monsters really are, don¡¯t you?¡± Sel¨¤na stood up then, and stretched. No doubt sitting in her lonely vigil in the cold temple left her stiff, and perhaps sore. ¡°That¡¯s what the Salamandra call the giants: Atta¡¯u. Monster. And ¡®monster¡¯ means the same thing for them that it does for us. And you know what it means for us, don¡¯t you, huntress?¡± A stillness settled over Alia, locking her muscles. Inside, her mind roiled. The maelstrom battered at the edges of her psyche, but she stood in the center, in the calm. Gradually, the calm radiated outward, overtaking the storm and dissipating it. ¡°Monsters are omens,¡± she said at last. Her voice echoed off the tiles, and she grimaced. ¡°They are a sign of Chaos, they¡¯re proof of a crime against natural law and order. Bessa, do you remember Edana¡¯s observation that the lamia and other monsters were born during the events that led to the Scouring? She¡¯s right. In those times, Chaos reigned with a strong hand. Whenever I¡¯ve hunted a monster, I promise you that someone did something to cause its presence. True monsters are born when Chaos has its way in the world.¡± Sel¨¤na absently probed at a purse attached to her belt. This drew their attention. What was inside of it? Zephyra came empty-handed to Aletheia¡¯s Fane; therefore, Sel¨¤na should not possess any valuables, either. All she owned was what the Rasena Valentian women had provided for her. However, Sel¨¤na wasn¡¯t paying attention to them; her gaze was fixed on the middle distance, as if she were seeing something in her mind¡¯s eye. After a moment she replied, ¡°Correct. Excellent. So. I told you the giants were supposed to be gods, but I never explained how that could come to pass: It couldn¡¯t. I know that, because my priests taught me so. Mama and Papa made sure of that¡ª¡± Her breath caught, as though someone had punched her in the gut. Sympathy twinged in Alia¡¯s heart. When Sel¨¤na finally spoke again, her voice was steady. ¡°But Artostes taught Zephyra. I think Artostes let himself be deceived into thinking it was possible for a god to be made.¡± Bessa arched an eyebrow. ¡°He wanted to become a god, too? That was his price?¡± ¡°Yes. Scorpion men are immortal; he had no reason to fear death. But he was a servant, and he wanted to be a master. The giants were born out of the vast void of Chaos. In the Primordial Age when Erebossa didn¡¯t exist, nor the Cosmos, not until the Sower made the Great Division.¡± Again Sel¨¤na palmed her purse. She hefted it, as if testing its weight. Alia rose. And took a step back. Then another. Her boots made her taller than the girl, and it occurred to her that the girl might feel intimidated if Alia obliged Sel¨¤na to look up at her. Humans played such dominance games with each other, an observation that both unsettled and bewildered her. One either had power, or one did not. If violence was not in play, of what value was superior height? ¡°You said Rahqu claimed the giants,¡± Alia pointed out. ¡°You mean to say that she took them as her own people, right? If I had to guess why, I¡¯d say she wanted agents to act on her behalf. Yes?¡± ¡°Yes. The giants aren''t any different from Erebossi in wanting to cross over to the Cosmos. The Salamandra somehow invited them into their world. Before you ask, I don¡¯t know how they did that. Zephyra understood invited to mean ¡®brought it on themselves.¡¯ Somehow, the Salamandra were led astray, and the coming of the giants to their world was the result. They fled the consequences, rather than face them and atone.¡± Bessa had gotten up and joined them now. Eying Sel¨¤na¡¯s bag she asked, ¡°What about us, Sel¨¤na? Did we humans here do something to invite the giants? Was it the Abominations of the sorcerers, the ones that brought the Scouring on us?¡± ¡°No. Rahqu was always going to make her move here. She once fought the Sea Lord here, and she meant to return.¡± Sel¨¤na straightened her shoulders and met Alia¡¯s eye. ¡°I was hoping if I came to His temple, I might find a way to apologize to the Restorer. I don¡¯t know if He will hear me.¡± At last she unclipped her purse from her belt, and held it up for them. All at once Alia understood what was in the bag. ¡°You want to make an offering of atonement?¡± ¡°Must I not?¡± Sel¨¤na¡¯s voice held an edge. Did she think Alia was toying with her? Suddenly Alia¡¯s own muscles sagged, as if she were hundreds of years old. It dawned her that one day, she would be hundreds of years old. Were Ta-Setians built to last so long? Did arthritis and creaky joints strike them, or were they immune to all ravages of age? For the first time, it occurred to her she was too ignorant of her own heritage. Had her parents raised her ¡­ did they think the boon they¡¯d sought from the Huntress worth the price of giving her up? Or did they suppose they would cross paths with Alia again? As child sacrifices went, giving a babe to dryads to raise had to be the mildest, gentlest form she knew. However, Alia¡¯s prolonged silence apparently made Bessa apprehensive. The Siluran tensed, and Alia surprised herself by smiling slightly. No doubt Bessa wondered if Alia would be equal to this next part. ¡°No,¡± Alia said gently. ¡°The herbs won¡¯t help, even if you conjured a sheep to accompany them.¡± Sel¨¤na recoiled. A twinge of maternal concern stirred in Alia just then. The poor child. The poor, poor child. This time, Alia stepped towards Sel¨¤na. No longer concerned about intimidating her, Alia closed the gap between them. She clasped Sel¨¤na¡¯s shoulders to look her dead in the eyes. ¡°You, Sel¨¤na Sideris, did no harm to the Restorer or His daughters. You, Sel¨¤na Sideris, did no harm to the Huntress and Her daughters, nor to the Sea Lord and His sons. If I know that the actions of Zephyra belong to Zephyra, and not to Sel¨¤na Sideris, wouldn¡¯t you suppose the Nasiru also know?¡± Sel¨¤na drew a shaky breath. Tears glittered in her eyes. Oh, Mother. When Alia was small and in desperate need of her mother¡¯s tenderness, Samara would speak to her in soft, soothing tones. Somehow, she knew what to say to console her child. Mentally, Alia girded herself to follow her mother¡¯s example. ¡°In your mind, you¡¯re still twelve years old, aren¡¯t you?¡± Alia pointed out. ¡°In your mind, you¡¯ve only now lost your family. Do you have anyone in this world? Your pain tells me your parents would have shielded you from every harm. They would give their lives to protect you, as any parent should. I¡¯m sorry you don¡¯t have them. We are no substitute¡ªI am no one¡¯s mother. But I know what it is to love someone I would die for. I am here out of love. Love for my family. Love for the Huntress. And I have faith that you, too, are motivated by love.¡± Sel¨¤na ventured to look up at her. Her lower lip trembled. Alia¡¯s smile was genuine this time. ¡°I know you wonder if that will be enough. But I think the Nasiru know our hearts. They know what lengths I will go to in order to protect my family. To protect this world: I would give my life. What lengths, Sel¨¤na Sideris, will you go to in order to protect your own family? Do you understand that to have no hope is to be defeated before you even begin an endeavor? Do you understand that believing you can do nothing is a self-fulfilling prophecy?¡± ¡°My mother is a prophet,¡± Sel¨¤na said softly. ¡°But I don¡¯t think she Saw this.¡± ¡°Maybe she did. Maybe she didn¡¯t. If she did, you must hold her blameless, as I hold you blameless. The Nasiru know what they are doing, and your mother serves the Seeker. I serve the Huntress. Do you want to serve the Restorer?¡± ¡°I¡ªI have been a vessel for an abyssal queen. If I choose to be the Restorer¡¯s vessel, am I not being selfish? I want to be clean again! How can anything I do succeed when my motives aren¡¯t so good as yours?¡± Ah? So was this what troubled the girl? ¡°You think your motives are impure?¡± Alia allowed her voice to be filled with wonder. ¡°Your motives are to get close again to the celestial side of the ledger, and away from the infernal side. To choose Good, and the Light, and reject Evil, and the Dark, yes? How is that not pure enough of a motive? Do you think you must do something special to deserve to make that choice?¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± Sel¨¤na¡¯s mouth fell open. She looked so confused that Alia would have found her expression comical in other circumstances. But for once she mastered her tendency to react inappropriately to stimuli. Blessedly, Bessa stepped in, saying, ¡°We all of us make that choice, everyday. Who told you that only some people have the right to make it? How could the Destroyer judge our souls if only some of us are allowed to choose, and others aren¡¯t? And who would decide which of us can choose? Here you stand, resurrected because Zephyra chose to reject Rahqu. That was an honorable choice, and all the evil she had done didn¡¯t stop her from making it. Do you think it means nothing, that she made her choice? How could all of her evil stop you from making your own choices? You can ask the Restorer to use you to restore the balance. I think He will hear you.¡± Sel¨¤na broke away from Alia then, and turned her back to them so her face was hidden. Shaking shoulders betrayed her. Bessa looked tempted, but in the end she didn¡¯t go over to Sel¨¤na and hold her as she sobbed. A battle would be waging in Sel¨¤na¡¯s heart, and none of them could fight that battle for her. For the first time, Alia wondered what whispers had Sel¨¤na heard in the night? What lies had been fed to her as she slept? After a while, Sel¨¤na¡¯s sobs subsided to sniffles. She turned to face them, her eyes red and puffy, and her cheeks streaked with her tears. ¡°How? How do I ask the Restorer?¡± All at once, a path opened in Alia¡¯s mind¡¯s eye. Their straitened circumstances had made her think only of what they could not do, distracting her from seeing the options available to them. Spreading her arms wide, Alia turned in a half circle, drawing their attention to their surroundings. ¡°The first thing you¡¯re going to do is put the Restorer¡¯s house in order. Starting now.¡± Chapter 13: Spirit Lessons Chapter 13: Spirit Lessons In which Sel¨¤na''s training begins Sel¨¤na set herself the task of restoring the temple. Having scavenged the ¡°general store,¡± Edana provided her with a stash of soap made from ash, olive oil, and tallow. They carried the scent of hyssop, roses, and almond oil. Day by day Sel¨¤na scrubbed the temple. She swept out the dust and disposed of debris. What decor she could not repair, she replaced. Discovering a potter¡¯s shop and an ironmonger¡¯s shop made the latter task easier, which encouraged her to continue her efforts. Alia joined Sel¨¤na in her tasks. The girl and the woman spent many hours of the day inside the Restorer¡¯s fane. At first they worked in relative silence. ¡°Let¡¯s start here,¡± one might say to another. Or, ¡°please help me carry this,¡± the other might ask. After three days Alia sensed Sel¨¤na letting her guard down. On day four Alia began to speak to her of how she came to serve the Huntress. Day by day Sel¨¤na was coaxed back to a semblance of wholeness. No longer did she seem so shattered and haunted as when she¡¯d returned to consciousness on the floor of Aletheia¡¯s grotto. Of a certainty Sel¨¤na¡¯s spiritual state mattered, this Alia believed fervently. Her mission to forge Sel¨¤na into a priestess would be in vain if the girl was too mired in self-hatred, grief, and rage to put her mind on Alia¡¯s lessons. ¡°You were trained by dryads,¡± Sel¨¤na pointed out. ¡°Restorite priests are often trained by naiads. Do you at least know their language?¡± She stood balanced on a ladder they found in a workshop. In her hands she held a length of luxuriant dyed linen someone had preserved. Shortly after vanquishing all of the Shadow Fangs in the inner fortress, they uncovered a treasure hoard in the cellar of one shopkeeper¡¯s home. Aside from linens, he or she had left behind jewelry, coins, and miniature statues cast in gold, silver, or electrum. Sel¨¤na had claimed the phoenix and naiad figurines and left the other statues behind. Now she and Alia set themselves the task of furnishing the convalescent rooms with bright curtains. Several of the curtain rods remained undamaged in the windows, which saved the women the trouble of repurposing spears. ¡°I do not know their language, no,¡± Alia replied, watching as Sel¨¤na looped a length of rich scarlet around the curtain rod. ¡°And we shall not worry overmuch about it just now. What would you say to the Restorer, if He appeared before you now?¡± Standing at the other end of curtain rod, Alia reached out to grasp the other end of the curtain. She looped it loosely over the rod, then tugged at the bottom edges to form a full drape effect. Once she was satisfied they had formed a proper balance, Alia began to climb her own ladder. ¡°What would I say? Would there be any use in talking?¡± Amazement laced her voice. Alia grunted with the effort of lifting the heavy rod onto the hook. ¡°Of course. Every time you come here you need to begin talking to Him. Pour out everything in your heart. Every thing you can¡¯t tell me, but might want to tell your parents. Confess the guilt you carry over Zephyra¡¯s actions. And then tell Him of your desire to atone.¡± Sel¨¤na paused on her ladder. The wheels turning in her mind showed plainly on her face. As it was forbidden for knowledge of the sacred mystery rituals of the Restorites to be divulged to outsiders, Alia possessed no insight into what Sel¨¤na must do to join their ranks. An obstacle¡ªbut only if she insisted on the official path of priestly training. Both women descended from their ladders. Dusting off her hands, Alia looked around. The blue-green tiles on the floor gleamed, revealing a subtle river-wave pattern in their arrangement. Free of grime and dust, the enameled brick on the walls sparkled. But to Alia¡¯s eyes the murals painted on the bricks were archaic in execution ¡ª every person was depicted in in profile, with a singular eye shown full frontal in their faces. Not her favorite style of art, and she much preferred the floral imagery of water lilies and willow catkins. All the same, the murals possessed a certain charm. Injured soldiers could take their ease in such a room. Here and now, soft breezes ruffled the curtains Sel¨¤na had hung. Breezes which carried nothing more than cool air ¡­ bolstering Alia¡¯s confidence she could safely leave Sel¨¤na alone in the temple. ¡°The voices I hear sound distant,¡± Edana said over breakfast several days ago. ¡°I know we still have to clear the outer fortress. But if I understand the drawing correctly, the outer fortress is surrounded by a ditch or moat. In a Rasena Valentian fortress that ditch would be large enough to swallow at least a thousand soldiers. We may need to go outside the fortress to find and battle the Shadow Fangs ¡­ and with so many bodies to feed on, we may also need something more powerful than my coins and our knives.¡± The vast dark between the inner and outer walls looked daunting enough, and Alia didn¡¯t blame Edana for her reluctance to dive in without preparation. To leave so many souls entrapped within the soul devourers pleased her even less. But all the same, she heard other voices. Not solely the voices of the dead, but something more ominous. When she said they were being softened up, she meant it. Whether or not Rahqu had infernal means to track Sel¨¤na, the girl was a weak point. Wracked by guilt and self-loathing, her spiritual defenses lay in tatters. Likely Edana was correct that more formidable Shadow Fangs lay outside their doorstep. If the creatures were as powerful as Edana believed, they might not be bound to stay near their original victims. They might be able to cross into the inner fortress ¡­ or the dreams and thoughts of those who inhabited the fortress. Alia removed her ladder from the wall, and gripped it with both hands to carry it. When Sel¨¤na started to do the same, Alia shook her head. ¡°I¡¯ll see to putting these away. You see to communing with the Restorer.¡± ¡°But how will I know if He can hear me? The Interceptor ¡­¡± ¡°Is able to interfere within the cosmos. I know. But I need you to trust me. Speak to the Restorer.¡±
For her communion with the god of healers, Sel¨¤na chose the fountain room. The bronze trap door lay at her feet. Thanks to Bessa she knew not to attempt to touch it. A job for a Restorite. And how was she to become a Restorite? What Ironwing was asking her to do didn¡¯t make sense. Wasn¡¯t she supposed to be inducted into a mystery order and learn secret rituals and lessons? But if that were so there would be no point in her hoping. Everything she did here would be in vain. Yet Ironwing spoke as if this were not so. And Ironwing was a priestess¡­ Sel¨¤na straightened on her seat. She had replaced the dusty, stained cushions on the steps of the pool with newer ones she¡¯d raided from what must have been a senior officer¡¯s house. A general, perhaps; his house included stairs in the back leading up to the curtain wall. For this room she¡¯d chosen the prettiest, deepest blues she could manage to supplement the sparse selection of indigo pillows. Breathing deeply, she inhaled the scents of almond clinging to the tiles. From her pouch she pulled out a sprig of vervain. Sacred to the Restorer, the herb itself carried no scent, and looked more like a weed with its flimsy purple blooms.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Sel¨¤na focused so tightly on the flowers that her eyes blurred. After a moment she closed her eyes. And began to speak. And speak. Words poured out of her. All of her pain, disgust, and despair came flowing out of her in a torrential monologue. When she finished she felt worn out, as if she had spent the day running around with a twenty pound sack of flour on her back. With ragged breaths and shaking shoulders she wept, heedless of the time. Did the Restorer hear her? Tears coursed from her eyes and down her cheeks as she formed her next words. ¡°P-p-p¡ªplease. Please. Please use me. Let me be Your vessel instead of the shadow queen¡¯s. I don¡¯t want to serve her. Let me serve You.¡± Over and over Sel¨¤na entreated the god. Did He hear her at all? But Ironwing instructed this of her. The priestess was not without hope, so Sel¨¤na must hope, too. After a long, long while¡ªno way to tell, given the perpetual steady light that betrayed no movement of the sun¡ªSel¨¤na opened her eyes. Again she beheld the vervain in her hands. The Restorer¡¯s sacred plant. Thus the answer came to her. On shaky legs she rose. She took a long look at the trap down at her feet. For now it mocked her. But she would not well on it. Instead she made her way past the ruined statue and into the court of offerings. Just as at the pool, the Conservationists had taken the statue of the Restorer. However, they hadn¡¯t defaced or destroyed the altar in front of the statue. Here she laid down her vervain. ¡°Please accept this from me,¡± Sel¨¤na whispered. She bowed her head, then swiftly turned on her heel and left. On her way out she passed through the inner hall. Like the outer hall, columns with capitals styled as phoenix wings supported the ceilings. Unlike the outer hall, the inner hall¡¯s ceilings were lower. And the floor higher. Lessons she had long forgotten came back to her. Ironwing was waiting for her by the pylons outside of the door when she stepped outside. Decorated with engravings of the Restorer, the pylons were taller than the door, and made the temple seem bigger than it was. ¡°Well?¡± asked Ironwing. ¡°Is it well with you?¡± ¡°Yes¡­¡± The next day Ironwing again accompanied her to the Restorer¡¯s temple, in spite of Sel¨¤na telling her she could handle things alone. ¡°I shall not interfere,¡± Ironwing said mildly. ¡°A little more than a week ago I told you to put the Restorer¡¯s house in order. Yesterday, I told you to pour out your heart to Him, and offer your services to him. Today, now, you will serve Him.¡± The statement caught Sel¨¤na off guard. For a long moment she stared at the priestess. Was she jesting? However, Ironwing betrayed no hint of levity. The woman stood with her hands clasped behind her back and her face tilted up at the unseen sun. Her eyelashes fanned out over her cheeks and her posture exuded serenity. ¡°Doing what?¡± Sel¨¤na finally asked. Ironwing opened one eye. ¡°What He needs you to do.¡± No more did she say, even though Sel¨¤na paused for several heartbeats to give her a chance to elaborate. True to her word, Ironwing remained outside the doors of the temple while Sel¨¤na went inside. This time, Sel¨¤na made her way to a room off the main hall. The consecration room. Though the Conservationists had removed the sacred symbols, and taken away statues of the Restorer, she still would make use of the room¡¯s intended purpose. Were she a priestess or a queen she would have entered this room to purify herself with naiad-blessed waters. The silver basin in the center of the room held no such water, of course. The Conservationists had been thorough. Just as well, because she had not come to purify her body. Instead she knelt down on the floor and closed her eyes. ¡°I call to you, O One Who Salves the Wounds. I call to you and ask you to cleanse my soul.¡± Thus she began her entreaties. When she finished she continued to kneel, but in silence. Part of her feared to listen, in case she once again heard the hateful whispers that dogged their steps in Zanbil¡¯s gate fortress. One Who Salves the Wounds. Startled, Sel¨¤na flinched. Her eyes flew open, as an idea came to her. Serve the Restorer? She made her way out of the consecration room and into the room on the opposite side of the hall. The stillroom. In Athyr-ai, the temples kept their own still rooms opposite the purification rooms. Zanbellians must have stayed true to their Athyrii roots, because they had done the same. Previously she had swept out the herbs too withered for use, and cleaned up the oils and unguents spilled from broken bottles. During her cleanup she had not investigated the locked cabinets in the room, because their locks were not mechanical. Where before she saw this as an obstacle, now she realized an obvious solution. Sel¨¤na hurried out of the temple. To her surprise, Ironwing was not standing at her post. During Selena¡¯s absence Ironwing had walked down to the bottom of the ramp marking the entry to the Restorer¡¯s temple. But she was not idle. Her long skirts swished and swayed in rhythm with her body as she twirled and spun her knives in a complicated pattern above her head. Green fire sparked from her blades, and in their wake strange symbols winked in an out, faster than Sel¨¤na could see them. With an eerie grace Ironwing danced, her movements suggestive of a fighter locked in hand-to-hand combat. In low tones she chanted in the liturgical language of the venatori. What was she saying? Curiosity overwhelmed Sel¨¤na. On tiptoes she crept closer to Ironwing, who kept her back to the temple and thus would not see her. ¡°¡­Sel¨¤na¡­Sel¨¤na¡­¡± Though Sel¨¤na could not understand the other words, every so often Ironwing said her name. So transfixed was she on this strange sight that she was not prepared when Ironwing suddenly leapt, one foot swept high as if to deliver a strike. Fluid and swift, Ironwing twisted and flipped. This time Sel¨¤na shrieked in her shock. But Ironwing did not miss her next move. Showing no surprise at seeing her, Ironwing executed a perfect back cross, tossing her knives behind her and catching them as they fell. Apparently she finished her ritual, for Ironwing now stood still and saluted her with one knife. ¡°Finished already?¡± Ironwing asked. Only the sharp rise of her breast suggested she might be winded from her exertions. Sel¨¤na blinked; Ironwing¡¯s nonchalance threw her off. Quickly she gathered her wits. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to explain what you¡¯re doing?¡± ¡°Buying you time and peace,¡± Ironwing replied. She sheathed her knives and frowned. ¡°No voices troubled you, did they?¡± A strange sense of gratitude came over Sel¨¤na just then. While the huntress had thawed towards her, she did not expect for the woman to trouble herself to perform kindly acts on her behalf. If Sel¨¤na hadn¡¯t come along, would Ironwing even have mentioned it? ¡°No.¡± Suddenly shy, Sel¨¤na lowered her eyes as she asked, ¡°May I trouble you for a favor? I think I know how to serve the Restorer.¡±
In short order Ironwing¡¯s Ellura wand undid the spell binding the cabinet doors shut in the stillroom. Immediately Sel¨¤na seized one of the turquoise faience bottles. The upswept lines and curves of the bottles intimated the wings of a phoenix. Carved along the front of the bottle, cartouches enclosed the names of the essences inside. And more importantly, the cartouches also carried the symbol she hoped for, the one for preservation. Rummaging through the cabinet, she at last found the one bottle she sought. ¡°What is this?¡± Ironwing asked when Sel¨¤na put it in her hands. She brought it up to her nose and sniffed. Malabathrum, of course, and olibanum, cedar oil, and something exceedingly rare: the musk of a phoenix bird. ¡°Restorites are required to keep gardens where they grow plants sacred to the Restorer,¡± Sel¨¤na said. ¡°And to grow plants that can heal others. The Conservationists sowed weeds and thorns, like soldiers might sow salt on enemy farms. While I can clear out thorns and brambles, I can¡¯t make the plants and flowers bloom. But I can do so with this.¡± Ironwing¡¯s smile made her eyes crinkle. ¡°You will restore His garden. Very good.¡±
Clearing out the garden took three days. Longer than Sel¨¤na expected. But on the third day she danced with abandon, even imitating some of the moves she¡¯d seen Ironwing make in her ritual. Once she was satisfied she¡¯d removed every last thorn, useless weed and bramble, she paused and went over to the center of the garden. Formerly choked in vines, the statue of a naiad once again served as the centerpiece of the garden. Was this she who had blessed the everlasting pool? ¡°Let me serve you, Restorer,¡± Sel¨¤na whispered. Carefully, she held the stopper over the bottle opening, covering all but a sliver with it. One drop. Two drops. Three. Quickly she stoppered the bottle fully, loath to waste its precious contents. The liquid did more than what she had told Alia, but for the moment she could not lay claim to its full abilities. Taking an example from Ironwing; however, she did sing. She sang out the prayer recorded in the scrolls in the cabinets of the stillroom. At first nothing happened. Sel¨¤na swallowed hard. Wait. Wait. She raised her voice, and sang the prayer again. Still nothing. ¡°Let the flowers bloom, let the fields be green and the waters sweet,¡± she sang out. Her confidence began to waver when she saw the ground was still brown. She took out the scroll again and examined it carefully. This time she noticed the drawings in what she thought was the margin. ¡°Ohh,¡± she said aloud. Laughing, she sang the prayer again. This time she danced. With each step, each twirl, greenery spread from her feet. In every corner of the garden she danced, until at last the air was perfumed with once-dead, now-blooming flowers. Exuberant, Sel¨¤na laughed and laughed. ¡°Thank you! Thank you,¡± she managed when she caught her. In that moment she twirled near the statue of the naiad. But something had changed. Where before the statue had been a rosy pink, from the marble, the face itself had faded to a more life-like color. And all at once, the eyes flashed. Looking out at her were very human orbs, brown irises framed with dark lashes. The statue¡¯s lips moved. ¡°Sel¨¤na.¡± Chapter 14: Archelaos Chapter XIV Archelaos In which Archelaos is brought forth Before a chamber in the house of Archelaos, the shadow-king governor of Urashtu, Red Gryphon Lysander Xenakis stood at the threshold and hesitated. Khratu help him, the situation he faced more than lived down to his expectations. Directly across from him, inside the small room, a mirror gleamed brightly, its gold frame highly polished and reflecting a black glow. Appropriately enough. Lysander stared into it. No reflection stared back. Turning abruptly on his heel, Lysander faced his companions. Sejanus, his prime centurion, did not hide his disgust at the mirror. Mouth puckered, he looked as if he were sucking on a lemon. Ziri, the Star Dragon spymaster, regarded the mirror with narrow eyes. ¡°Obviously, Archelaos didn¡¯t use this mirror to trim his beard,¡± Lysander said dryly. Reflexively he stroked his own face. Beardless, and he would keep it so for as long as he remained in the legions. The other personnel Sejanus had brought tittered nervously, but none answered Lysander. They stepped into the room. Ziri went over to the pool, which dominated the right side. The chamber itself made a mockery of the oracula used by all who were not seers to communicate across the world. Strict rules governed their operation: The light of the sun or moon must strike the relevant signs of the zodiac. This in turn activated either a mirror, or call-globes stationed at intervals in the hexagon layout of the room. Every oraculum always contained a large pool of crystal clear water in the center, for the summer and winter solstices, or those times when a scryer wanted to see a larger tableau of events. But Archelaos was an eidolon. He availed himself of one mirror, which reflected nothing, and a pool whose black waters repelled all light. The luminary bodies of the firmament did not animate any part of his ¡°oraculum.¡± Most damning of all, Archelaos used a permanent roof and not a retractable one¡ªfurther proved his less than orthodox purpose for the chamber. Ziri turned slowly to face Lysander. Upon first meeting the master of arcana, Lysander formed an impression of him as coolly unflappable. Now; however, the tension lines around his eyes betrayed him. ¡°This is a summoning room,¡± Ziri said, pointing to the mirror and the pool. ¡°These are portals. I¡¯m willing to gamble the pool is for bringing forth a multitude. Like our giants. The pool perhaps allowed Archelaos to see them wherever they were, and he teleported them to where he wanted them to be.¡± ¡°Perhaps?¡± Lysander asked. ¡°What are the options? They didn¡¯t use a portal to get to Abris; they just appeared out of nothing.¡± ¡°Which suggests they come from Erebossa. Look, we never established whose children the giants might be. My grandmother is a naiad, so I can teleport to any nymphaeum or sacred spring. To go anywhere else I would need a portal. But it is possible to open a gate to Erebossa, walk through it, and then come out in some other part of Thuraia. I wouldn¡¯t advise it, but it is possible. Usually something a shadow sorcerer might do, but given that the giants use Erebossi allies, why wouldn¡¯t they use shadow methods, too?¡± Lysander raised an eyebrow. Ziri could teleport? And naiads, too, apparently. Who would have thought Bessa Philomelos would be the herald one extraordinary revelation after another? Including Bessa herself. But thinking of her was a luxury for another time, he resolved, and turned back to the mirror. Dull bronze and fronted with glass, the mirror bore a strange pattern on the frame. He leaned closer. No, not a pattern. A language, more like. Shadow script. ¡°I¡¯ll take your word on the pool. But are you sure about the mirror? You can read those ¡­ words? Are they a summoning spell?¡± Ziri gave the mirror a cursory glance, his lips curling in distaste. ¡°You think I could decipher this? Even if I could I wouldn¡¯t: It wasn¡¯t written in a tongue anyone this side of Erebossa was trained to speak. Or read. This is genuinely an infernal language.¡± ¡°Nevermind,¡± Lysander said quickly, diverting his attention now to the pool. Not that contemplating the pool cheered him any more than the mirror; both made his arm hair stand up. The chill prompted him to twitch his heavy crimson cloak about his body. Lined about the neck and shoulders with the red and white feathers of the gryphon that gave his rank its name, the cloak at least concealed his involuntary reactions. Ziri stared past Lysander at Falconer Scorpius, the Venatorium priest Sejanus had brought with them. His title, falconer, indicated his high rank as a priest of the Huntress, for She often assumed the form of a golden eagle. But Ziri particularly fastened his gaze on the falconer¡¯s gloves: delicate silver lines wove a tracework of subtle patterns into the leather gloves, from the cuffs to the fingertips. ¡°When the silver fades, so goes our protection,¡± Scorpius had warned. Divine protection made them all willing to venture into the secret lair Archelaos had kept hidden in the governor¡¯s palace. As the eidolon had been inhabiting the body of the governor of the imperial province of Urashtu, the eidolon could hardly afford to allow any obvious sign of his true nature to appear where just anyone could see it. Lysander turned back to Ziri. ¡°You¡¯re not thinking¡ª¡± ¡°We¡¯d need to secure the room first,¡± Ziri said, catching the eye of Scorpius and the Marinite priest they¡¯d brought with them. ¡°Secure the room,¡± Lysander said evenly. ¡°To summon an Erebossan king here? Have we no better option?¡± Again he surveyed the room. Black stone, black marble¡ªthe color of the infernal powers. Veins of red pierced the ebon black of the marble. Red, the color of the death powers. An aggressive threat display, in a way, but Lysander would not be deterred. No matter what, he would not leave the governor¡¯s palace until they found what Archelaos had been up to while playing governor. The Five¡ªthe Six abyssals known to have walked Thuraia in human form the past few years¡ªhad all carried out specific tasks. Two once posed as librarians, to thwart searches for key tomes concerning the Primordial Age, when the gods had walked Thuraia. One had been stationed in Valentis, to make a hecatomb of its citizens¡ªbut for Optima Nuriel¡¯s fervent wish to return to her childhood home, he would have succeeded. Another, as she¡ªBessa¡ªhad deduced, was supposed to allow entry to a place still not known to them. The one posing as a sea captain had aided the capture of Her Holiness, Halie, the Sea Lord¡¯s daughter. And Archelaos? Still now his purpose remained opaque to them. Idle whim did not bring him to Urashtu, and for no light reason did he usurp its governor. Of this they were certain. Their certainty ended there. ¡°Why not just have an echomancer do this?¡± Sejanus demanded. ¡°Bringing an abyssal here can¡¯t be the only solution. And I thought¡ªdidn¡¯t the others say the Huntress and the Sea Lord are against summoning Erebossi?¡± He turned to the two priests, an obvious appeal for assistance. ¡°The Huntress forbids us doing business with Erebossa,¡± Scorpius agreed, exchanging a glance with Telemachus, the Marinite. ¡°As does the Sea Lord,¡± Telemachus agreed. ¡°If you do this thing, we can¡¯t be part of it.¡± Sejanus nodded triumphantly, and turned to Ziri. ¡°But we just need an echomancer to see what Archelaos was doing. The man, I mean, since the fiend did everything while wearing his body. I don¡¯t see¡ª¡± Ziri smiled tightly. ¡°You forget, I think, that the sons of the Abyssal Serpent aren¡¯t like us. They are not subject to time, and they can See the echomancer and the prophet, too. I¡¯m a scryer and I can¡¯t scry for them. I wouldn¡¯t even attempt it, even if it were possible: If you can See them, they can See you.¡± Dammit. The arcanus had a point. ¡°They planned around her,¡± Lysander reminded them. Ziri and Sejanus looked up at him. ¡°During the battle on the Night of the Burning Sky, Arrianus was with the women in the aerie. According to him, Archelaos said he and his faction planned around Lady Nensela. She¡¯d thwarted their plans for over enough millennia that they had to take her into account. But¡ªsuppose she wasn¡¯t the only seer they targeted?¡± ¡°You mean him?¡± Sejanus pointed to Ziri, who shook his head in unison with Lysander. ¡°I mean an echomancer,¡± Lysander clarified. ¡°The echomancer would See what the body of Archelaos did, but like the good man said, the fiend was looking out through the eyes of Archelaos. It would See the echomancer. If I were fiend-Archelaos, and I knew I would cross paths with the Lady Nensela, I would assume that I would need a reserve plan. Like this room. And our desperate need to find out what he was up to when he was here. It¡¯s the perfect trap.¡± It was all Lysander could do not to shudder. Suppose he had been willing to give the order for an echomancer to be brought to this damned room? An eidolon, wearing the body of one of the many soldiers in Lysander¡¯s legion, could stroll as he pleased to the hospital tent where Lady Nensela was kept in stasis. The prophet had attempted suicide to avoid possession, and in but a moment an eidolon could undo her measures, dooming them all. This time Lysander did shudder. Sejanus narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. ¡°A trap? We bring an echomancer here¡­and an abyssal could usurp his body? But wouldn¡¯t we know?¡± ¡°Why should you know?¡± Ziri asked. He gestured to the priests. ¡°I don¡¯t think even they would know. Maybe. I think Her Grace, Halie, would know. Xenakis is right, it¡¯s a perfect trap. But doing nothing isn¡¯t an option if we want to find out what Archelaos set in motion here. Years, and years he has to act, and Lady Nensela has shown me that flesh and blood immortals think in extremely long terms. She thinks nothing of making plans to do something fifty years in the future. If you visit her, she¡¯ll serve you wine she¡¯s been storing in the sea for three hundred years. That¡¯s the minimal amount of time she likes to age her wine. Do you think anything from Erebossa would behave differently?¡± Sejanus groaned, defeated. Clapping a hand on his shoulder Lysander asked, ¡°Who would you give the order to, old friend? You wouldn¡¯t order any of our people to risk possession. I¡¯d follow Lady Nensela¡¯s example and kill myself before I gave that order.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right. Yes, you¡¯re right.¡± Nevertheless, he shot Ziri, a baleful glance. ¡°But we are not going to summon an abyssal. There has to be another way.¡± Before Ziri managed to reply Lysander held up a hand, quelling him. ¡°Fellows, you¡¯re forgetting that we have an asset close at hand. One who has the authority to tangle with Erebossi in a manner we cannot: His Holiness, Lysimachus, son of the Sea Lord.¡±
Lysimachus favored Lysander with a cool stare from his throne in what had once been the sitting room of the supreme magistrate of Abris. The dragon¡¯s eyes narrowed. Dragon. Though he currently wore a human shape, Lysimachus made it impossible to forget his draconic nature. His golden eyes, molten like his sister¡¯s, carried the weight of his immense age. Legend had it that he¡¯d been present for the First Cataclysm over eight thousand years ago. Certainly if it was true no sea dragon existed but for those created by the Sea Lord Himself, then Lysimachus was born thousands of years before even the dawn of the Cataclysm Age. Before Lysander¡¯s ancestors existed, Lysimachus walked the world. In his youth Lysimachus had known men of valor whose names were lost to the mists of time, whose bones had withered to dust and ash, whose memory could be found nowhere except his own. And one day? One day Lysander¡¯s name, too, would only be an echo, a fragment of the dragon¡¯s memory¡ªif the dragon should trouble to think of him once this moment had passed. Part of Lysander wondered what the dragon made of him. What unit of measure did the dragon use when estimating the worth of a man, when he determined if the man was worthy of his aid or not? Would he even deign to respond to Lysander¡¯s request? Perhaps Lysander passed his examination, for the dragon relaxed slightly in his throne. Clad in mother-of-pearl, clever artisans fashioned the throne to resemble an open clamshell. Its iridescent sheen provided the only spot of color in an otherwise dull white and grey room. The dragon said, ¡°The room you speak of is a shadow gate of a kind. What do you expect to find on the other side?¡± Succinctly, Lysander explained their errand. ¡°We can¡¯t afford to let the abyssal¡¯s works survive his death,¡± he finished. The dragon smiled, startling Lysander. His teeth were very white, and his canines very sharp. ¡°You mean his exit from Thuraia. From Erebossa he came, and to Erebossa he went. A spirit of any kind is indestructible. Still, you have the right of it.¡± ¡°Yes, Your Holiness. Will you accompany us?¡± ¡°I will not.¡± His tone brooked no opposition. Counterarguments formed in his mind, but before Lysander could voice them Lysimachus spoke again. ¡°You see with the eyes of a man, a being of flesh and blood and bound to this world. I see with different eyes.¡± The words died in his throat as memory came to Lysander, of the legends he¡¯d learned as a boy concerning sea dragons. And so he remembered then: the eyes of sea dragons beheld what mortal eyes never could. The dragon nodded at him. ¡°You know of what I speak. I will tell you now what I see with my eyes: We are besieged on all sides, son of man and woman. Abyssals and their allies assault this very camp. I battle them.¡± Cold dread washed over Lysander. Beside him, Ziri¡¯s sharp inhale underscored his sentiments. Arrianus let out the first syllable of his favorite cuss word, then stopped himself just in time. ¡°Is that, uh, normal?¡± The dragon arched an eyebrow. Privately, Lysander agreed the question lacked precision. ¡°Not every place is hospitable to the creatures of Erebossa,¡± Lysimachus replied after a while. ¡°Nor is every host they seek. But the giants you fought here changed conditions by their very arrival. And Nensela of Ta-Seti has attracted very powerful entities. Kings.¡± He drew his hand across chest, and that was when they saw the sword in his grip. Or part of it, anyway¡ªonly the hilt was visible in midair. As for the rest¡ª¡°They are held back by my hand. I dare not turn my eyes away.¡± Again the dragon¡¯s eyes bore into Lysander. And then he turned his formidable gaze to the other men. Arrianus audibly swallowed. Lysimachus rose, standing at a commanding height. With a start, Lysander realized the dragon would loom over his auxiliary officer, Pyralis. As a Salamandran, Pyralis himself stood a little more than seven feet tall. ¡°Approach,¡± he commanded. They obeyed, moving to within an arm¡¯s reach of the dragon. His curt nod halted their steps. ¡°Sons of man and woman, you also will do battle. This day, ere the next day dawns, you will fight. My Father requires you to be victorious.¡± The celestial sword in his hand remained visible. Now he ran a long finger along the edge, slicing open the fleshy pad. Golden ichor surged forth. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Wonderment made Lysander forget himself, and he stared. Poets of old had sung of the ichor of the children of the gods, and its fantastical properties. The dragon leaned forward. Before Lysander could react, he pressed his thumb to Lysander¡¯s forehead and smeared the ichor over his eyelids. The droplets fell into his eyes. Blinking, he tried to ride out the tingling in his eyes. For a moment he closed them. A sensation came over his body, as if he had been awakened in the middle of the night by a thunderclap. Blood surged in his veins, and his breath quickened. Every day since the battle he¡¯d carried a dull ache in his muscles, a consequence of too much exertion and too little rest. Now it all vanished, replaced by the odd feeling that he could sling his gryphon over his back and carry it to another country if he so chose. Invigorated, he opened his eyes. And promptly wished he hadn¡¯t. ¡°Amyntas save us,¡± Arrianus gasped. Ziri and Sejanus did not look any happier. Monsters, grotesque and terrible, surged through the room. Several had multiple heads. Several lacked even one, their eyes glowing green in their chests below where their necks should have been. Others bore no eyes at all, but made up for it with an abundance of teeth. Lysimachus sat back in his throne. Now the men perceived the white hot glow surrounding him, the power radiating from his very person. His lips thinned as he regarded them once more. ¡°You see now with my eyes. You hear now with my ears. You fight now with my strength. And you will know that which you would not have known. When you find the one you seek, take from him the key of the shadow king you call the Fifth Abyssal. Go forth. Conquer.¡± Dismissal. Bowing low in obeisance, Lysander and his companions acknowledged the dragon¡¯s command. They hastened to obey, exiting the hall with all deliberate speed. Back at the pool, Lysander again examined the mirror. This time he saw it true: it was a looking glass, such as the kind used by scryers to view events in distant places. And the events within made the skin prickle on the back of his neck. A curious creature flitted about, in a strange meadow of grey grass and black flowers. Why should Archelaos have looked into such a place? Unless¡­ Without hesitation he reached into the mirror, seizing the creature and pulling it into the room with them. ¡°Ugh.¡± Sejanus recoiled at the sight of it. For Lysander, the slick texture of its flesh set his teeth on edge. What was this thing? A three-headed cat? No, the central head was that of a cat. A rat¡¯s head made up the left, and a possum head made up the right. Batwings flapped against his hand, but at least the barbed tail curled away from him, resting on the creature¡¯s back. ¡°Lackey,¡± Lysander said, his deep voice echoing off the stone walls. ¡°Your master¡¯s key. Give it to me.¡± All three of the heads cried out in horror. ¡°Don¡¯t make us betray him! He¡¯ll punish us!¡± With his hand on the creature¡¯s flesh, Lysander now had at his command the power of an echomancer. What he saw of his captive¡¯s past made his blood run cold, but he hardened his heart against pity. ¡°So, you were once a man? And now you are an abominable beast. Fitting punishment, and we both know why.¡± Bile rose in his throat, and Lysander forced it back down. ¡°But I can give you to the Abyssal Serpent if you prefer that.¡± No idle promise did he make. His Holiness Lysimachus, Son of the Sea Lord had seen to that. But would this, this thing make it worth his while? The three-headed creature stopped squirming. All six of its hazel eyes focused intently on Lysander. At this juncture the Abyssal Serpent offered the beast its last, best hope: though the Serpent would devour him, it might eventually spit him out. If, if, if he was redeemable. Infernal kings offered no such hope to their slaves. ¡°I have your word?¡± His word? This little¡ª! This creature presumed itself high enough to question anyone¡¯s honor? One who had brought himself so low as this ought to be more humble. The creature¡¯s heads cried out in protest when he tightened his grip in response. ¡°I will do your bidding, Great One!¡± Oh, thank Khratu. Eager to let it go, Lysander flung the chimerical beast back into the mirror. It scampered out of their sight, leaving them to view the meadow, which held many other assaults on their vision. Meanwhile, Lysander took the opportunity to wipe his hand on the wall. And then grimaced at the grimy streak he left behind. ¡°We¡¯re all going to need a bath after this,¡± Arrianus muttered. Presently, the cat-rodent-chimera returned. Steeling himself, Lysander snatched it out of the mirror again. Its wings terminated in human hands, and in its right hand it clutched a black object. ¡°You gave your word,¡± the creature reminded him, holding out a glowing black stone. Which Lysander ignored. Taking the stone would seal their deal. Knowledge the loremasters of the Supreme Strategos had taught him, when he was only a youth and had not yet joined the legions. And this very morning, Lysander slew an aurochs as an offering to the Strategos before setting out for the governor¡¯s palace. Bless me, Khratu, for I must do battle. ¡°What did your master want in Urashtu? Why come here?¡± With one hand he held the creature by its cat neck. Though the thing¡¯s body was the size of a leopard, its weight strained him not at all. Testament to the strength the Sea Lord¡¯s son bestowed on him. The creature gasped. It tried again to give Lysander the stone, and again he ignored it. Its six eyes dimmed somewhat as it conceded defeat. ¡°Every Gate ever built was made of a cosmic stone, O Master of My Fate. Much of it fell from the heavens to Urashtu. Men believed it gone, but the stone can be found deep in the bowels of Thuraia, my lord. For my master I had men find a new vein, for a new Gate.¡± ¡°A shadow gate?¡± ¡°It could be that, oh merciful one.¡± ¡°And what is it meant to be?¡± Lysander¡¯s tone brooked no evasion. ¡°A-a-a, a world Gate. A world Gate.¡± Surprised, Lysander paused. World gates? ¡®World¡¯ in itself was a promise, a promise of new lands to explore, new people, new possibilities ¡­ and new conquerors. The giants. They can come to our lands. We can¡¯t go to theirs and retaliate. So Lady Nensela once observed. ¡°Is the gate in Urashtu?¡± Sejanus whispered. But in the silence even his whisper resonated, echoing against the walls. The cat mouth gaped. At a jab from Lysander it yowled out, ¡°I don¡¯t know! I mean, I don¡¯t know. I gave the ore to Vartanian¡¯s people when they came for it, and they took them somewhere else. I wasn¡¯t to know. Now I understand why,¡± the cat said bitterly. Tears ran down all three faces. And for what reason did the beast cry? Regret over its lack of power? Frustration that all of its scheming came to this greasy end? The dragon had spoken truly, for Lysander now knew things he would not have known otherwise. But with his Sight into the creature¡¯s past, pity found no purchase in him. Arriving in Erebossa in such a state as this creature took a tremendous amount of effort in evil endeavors. Effort made without remorse or hesitation, no matter the warnings given to him. Effort made without regard to the costs he had pitilessly forced others to pay. The fool did not deserve one drop of pity ¡­ but Lysander was no oathbreaker, and mercy cost him nothing to bestow. With his free hand he palmed the chimera¡¯s body. One twist, then a snap, and the creature died. Lysander caught the stone before it could fall to the ground. For the final time he tossed the corpse back into the mirror, where its body fell with a dull thud into the lifeless meadow. Immediately he whipped out a handkerchief from his belt and vigorously wiped his hands. While he would like to think the ichor of Lysimachus made him impervious to any infernal taint, why take chances? Now he turned his gaze upon his companions, who had watched him impassively. ¡°Because I killed his body in the Cosmos, his spirit will go now to the Abyssal Gates. His lord, it seems, is too preoccupied to intercept him on his journey.¡± Arrianus arched a wing-like eyebrow. ¡°His lord? Archelaos?¡± The smile Lysander gave him carried no mirth. ¡°That was Archelaos. The original governor. Foolish enough to let an abyssal inside him, and wicked enough to be a hospitable host. Arrogant and stupid also, to think it would coexist within him. A lesser infernal might have, or so I¡¯ve read. But he dealt with a king. They don¡¯t coexist. They rule.¡± He dropped the handkerchief, letting it fall to the floor. ¡°By the gods,¡± Arrianus whispered. His face had paled to an almost deathly grey. Although Lysander agreed with his sentiments, he wondered to himself if Arrianus had ever struck deals with Erebossi. Some sorcerers summoned them for consultations, but Arrianus had never once suggested that tactic during his years of service in Lysander¡¯s command. Perhaps he¡¯d had sorcerer friends with less scruple¡­ The weight in his palm commanded his attention. Yet even so, the black stone so precious to the former Archelaos looked rather unremarkable. Granite, with gold flecks. Basically, a rock. Only its purpose as a keystone imbued it with any significance. All keystones allowed their possessors to enter the places they warded; on this side of Erebossa it usually meant the abode of a sorcerer. But an infernal keystone? A heaviness settled in Lysander¡¯s bones. The keystone could only lead to a the domain of a king abyssal. Nor did he fail to notice the absence of abyssals once he entered the palace¡ªthe eidolon-Archelaos would have protected his temporal citadel from rivals and infernal arcana. But once inside his infernal stronghold, new horrors awaited them. Horrors Lysander could not unsee. Go forth. Conquer. Lysander strode over to the pool. The men followed. He tightened his grip on the stone, then held his hand over the water. Suddenly, the waters rippled, then reared back, the reverse of a wave crashing against a shore. The water vanished, and in its place an obsidian staircase gleamed. It led down, into a vast darkness. ¡°Wait,¡± Ziri said, speaking for the first time since they¡¯d left Lysimachus. They glanced at him. ¡°What Archelaos said,¡± Ziri began. ¡°About Vartanian¡¯s people. We raided Honoria Vartanian¡¯s house when we went to rescue Edana Nuriel. Half my team searched for threads that might show what she was up to.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°We found a blood codex with codes that let her talk to her lackeys. After months of trying we weren¡¯t able to crack the code. Now I know what it says, because I¡¯m reviewing my memories with ichor in my eyes. We need to find a place she called the Table of the Sun.¡± The name made him arch his eyebrow. Travelogues spoke of such a place, but not in any context he could reconcile with an eidolon¡¯s schemes. ¡°Are you certain?¡± Lysander asked. ¡°The Table of the Sun is supposed to be in Ta-Seti. Some field where meat is spontaneously generated for poor travelers to eat.¡± ¡°Yes, I also know of that table. But Vartanian specifically contrasted her Table with the Ta-Setian one. The Ta-Setian Table is harmless, an act of kindness. But Honoria¡¯s Table is something else. I think it was a place where people were fed to something.¡± ¡°To what purpose? What god would make such a demand? Or rather, what infernal being is propitiated by eating people?¡± Lore failed him here; Lysander could think of no reason besides sheer malice for an Erebossan to eat people. At his feet, darkness awaited. He could see no further than three steps down. It occurred to him that he was being foolish, to suppose his imagination adequate to anticipate the motives of an infernal entity. ¡°This I couldn¡¯t tell you,¡± Ziri admitted. ¡°I will have to review the papers again, of course.¡± ¡°First thing when we return,¡± Lysander said, projecting a confidence he did not feel. Squaring his shoulders he took to the stairs, the darkness swallowing him up moments later. Each man carried a glowlight affixed to a short shaft, like a torch. Other than each other¡¯s footsteps, they heard nothing else as they walked. They saw nothing else, either. Only a vast darkness so thick they felt as if they were swimming in it. The stairs went down, down, down. Lysander sensed a good hour had passed before they finally came to the last step. They hadn¡¯t spoken to each other the whole way, but now Lysander sensed it safe to risk breaking their silence. ¡°We¡¯ve come this far,¡± he observed. ¡°I have courage¡ªbut not just because of the boon from His Holiness. I have courage because two who have fought longest by my side are with me in this. I have courage because we are joined by a man who spends all his time thinking of ways to thwart the plans of those who aim to do evil.¡± Sejanus smiled sardonically, his teeth gleaming in the glowlight. ¡°No rally talks, Old Man. No speeches of encouragement. I¡¯m not wettin¡¯ myself over this. I¡¯ve got a story to tell now that my grandkids will actually listen to. You know, when they exist, I mean. After we win this so my young¡¯uns can grow up.¡± Arrianus appeared to have recovered somewhat from his shock over the fate of Archelaos. ¡°I dreamt of this. When I was a boy¡ªyes, I was one, once¡ªI had dreams of fighting battles. Battles the poets would write epics about, starring me, the hero who did extraordinary feats of magic. I thought those dreams had come true. Now I see. And I am ¡­ I am seeing this through to the end. Lead on.¡± Ziri sketched a salute, one commander to another, and Lysander nodded in turn. Now a path stretched before them. The glare of the glowlights bounced off the obsidian glass that formed the walls of a narrow passage. Two men, if not bulked by armor, could walk abreast. For Lysander and the others it was necessary to walk single file. Glass crunched under Lysander¡¯s boots, making him wish he¡¯d worn the ones with hobnailed soles after all. Movement to his right caught his eye. He glanced at the wall, then halted. Yellow eyes peered out at him. In a blink the eyes vanished. From behind Sejanus exclaimed, and Lysander whirled to see his prime centurion staring aghast at the wall to their left. ¡°The al?,¡± Arrianus said calmly. ¡°Pay them no mind. We have the ichor.¡± Al?. The loremasters of the Lyceum taught him a little of the al?, faceless abyssals who possessed those who slept, paralyzing them. They resided, said the lore scrolls, in the depths of Thuraia. The Third Eidolon had been a kind of al?, and once attacked Bessa in a manner similar to others of his kind. Fortunately, Edana had laid her hands on a special weapon¡ªa weapon Lysander wished he had in his hands just now. From that point on, a multitude of eyes watched their steps. Occasionally the walls shook, as if rammed by something attempting to break through it. But Lysander did not deviate in his steps, and neither did his men. An orange light bloomed ahead, flickering and jumping against the walls. Lysander¡¯s nostrils flared. The light gave no warmth, but a foul odor kept company with it. The odor grew worse, now stinging their eyes to the point that they watered. At once the men drew out from their kits the cloths they¡¯d normally reserved for bandages. They tied them around their faces, covering their noses. As soon as the men finished, they resumed their trek. They drew nearer, to the ember lights, then halted just short of what appeared to be a threshold. Lysander stood still, again looking at what was before him with the eyes of an immortal. Again his neck prickled, as if a sword dangled near. After a moment he spoke. ¡°Put your lights away. Ready your weapons.¡± Each man readied himself accordingly, Sejanus unsheathing his short sword, and Ziri his long knives. However, Arrianus was a graduate of the Rhabdomachaeum, the school where sorcerers learned to do battle with staves and wands. He drew out now a wand as long as a short sword, but carved from the ivory from a hydra¡¯s tooth. Lysander drew his own sword. He thought suddenly of the honor knife he used to carry, an ancestral blade fatal to basilisks. Carried now by Bessa, by his will, for her own protection. Well, he now carried the protection of Lysimachus, and the Sea Lord by extension. It should suffice. Bessa. By the gods, one day he and Bessa would dine by a fire and tell each other of their adventures in this mission. Lysander¡¯s lips curved, then he banished all thoughts of a sweet future. Now a dreadful present must claim his attention. He went forward. Once they crossed the threshold, the passage widened. Sejanus and Arrianus flanked Lysander. Ziri acted as rearguard. Before them stood six mirrors, with seemingly identical frames to the one in the upper chamber they had come from. Each mirror showed a different image. One was dark, revealing nothing. Three showed secret chambers similar to the one in the upper room they had descended from. But the fifth one¡­ The men recoiled. Ghastly images assaulted their sight. Writhing blood-red walls, pulsating floors of some sort of morass. Shapes occasionally rose up from the morass, then sank back down. Eerie screams and cries rang out, chilling the men to their bones. And sometimes, a creature shambled past the mirror. One looking glass caught Lysander¡¯s attention, and he drew closer. ¡°This is where the infernal Eel lives. Oh, what do we have here? The so-called Master of the People is calling on his hospitality. How convenient for us, two enemies in one place.¡± Sejanus narrowed his eyes; clearly Lysander¡¯s interpreting aloud the meaning of Archelaos was not lost on him. ¡°You mean the eidolon who wore the body of Archelaos? He¡¯s with Murena?¡± ¡°Yes. Let¡¯s see how abyssals entertain one other. You think they offer each other honey cakes and spiced wine?¡± With his words, the scene shifted somewhat. A bellow rang forth, and bloodcurdling screams followed, to be cut off abruptly. The source of the screams wasn¡¯t obvious. Blood spattered against the walls, joined in short order by pieces of flesh that sailed from the right of the viewing glass to thud wetly against the wall on the left. They sank in to the walls, becoming part of it. Lysander shuddered. Was this how the walls were constructed? He focused his will on the looking glass, and the scene again shifted. Murena filled their view. As ever the abyssal remained horrific to behold, with his lava eyes and cavernous maw, from which issued another bellow. Viscous, oily liquid formed a morass of his floors. The liquid spattered, bubbled, and popped, as if in protest. Murena¡¯s eel legs hadn¡¯t fully regenerated, only getting as far as where his calves might be, if they were actual legs. The stumps rested atop the black morass. He was surrounded up to his human hips by dreadful beasts. Murena snatched up one of them by the neck, exactly as Lysander had done to Archelaos. He was shouting, but his words were a fierce cacophany until Lysander focused, and the ichor of Lysimachus took over. ¡°WHY. DID. YOU. LET. HER. ESCAPE?!¡± The thing writhed, its pseudopod legs wriggling uselessly. ¡°Your Majesty! I swear it, I swear that I was elsewhere! We all were! We didn¡¯t see her¡ª¡± Lysander held his breath. Her? Who? Another child of the gods captured, as Halie had been captured? Murena twisted, and the creature¡¯s head snapped off. He tossed the head in one direction, and the body in the other. He moved on to the next lackey, repeating the question. Another creature shambled up, coming to a stop behind Murena. The creature seemed to be all mouth, with legs and arms attached, and a semblance of eyes atop its maw. They were red, and egg-sized, without pupils or an iris. Its bottom lip hovered just above the oil pit. Its teeth moved; however, an indication it was speaking. Lysander immediately recognized it from Archelaos¡¯s memories. ¡°The abyssal that wore Archelaos,¡± Lysander said, identifying him for the benefit of his men. ¡°An intruder penetrated your abode, Pr¡¯tah¡¯nxx.¡± Archelaos¡¯s former possessor sounded vaguely gleeful, as if amused that Murena should suffer such an indignity. Murena¡¯s head swiveled. Completely backwards, allowing him to see his companion. The eels that formed Murena¡¯s hands sank their teeth into the creature he was clutching. Pitiful mewling ensued, but Murena ignored it. ¡°And why do you say that?¡± Ex-Archelaos replied, ¡°Because I believed¡ªfalsely, as it turned out¡ªthat an intruder was entering from your east gate. The alarms had rang out, you see. But they rang falsely, for no one was there. All of your lackeys say they were called elsewhere from their stations. Does that not sound like a coordinated attack to you?¡± Murena¡¯s body swiveled, joining his head in the direction of his companion. The process made the teeth of his eel hands flay the pet by accident. Or by design, perhaps. ¡°You¡¯re saying she didn¡¯t escape? That someone stole Nensela from my grasp?¡± Lysander¡¯s blood ran cold. Why did Murena speak of her as if she were his captive, when she simply lay in an unbreakable sleep in his camp hospital? ¡°Her spirit,¡± he whispered. Murena had somehow captured Lady Nensela¡¯s spirit. ¡°But if she escaped, doesn¡¯t that mean she¡¯s awake? Maybe?¡± Sejanus wondered aloud. Before Lysander could even entertain the hope, the Master of the People began speaking again. ¡°That they did. Or helped her. But there¡¯s no need to worry. I know where she is. And my army is on its way to her right now. She won¡¯t escape a second time.¡± Chapter 14, Part 2 -- Concluded Chapter XIV -- Part 2, Conclusion Archelaos, Continued The scream escaped her lips before her brain caught up to the situation. Heart pounding, nerves jangling, and her stomach dropping, Sel¨¤na whirled on her toes, poised to flee. ¡°Be at peace, half-mortal.¡± Overwhelmed, she collapsed to her knees. She stared, aghast at the statue, whose face was unnervingly one of flesh and blood. ¡°Half-mortal: Take heed, for my time is short,¡± the statue continued. ¡°I am Tha?s, daughter of the Restorer. I am not here with you now. You speak to my Sending.¡± Sel¨¤na¡¯s heart stopped its marathon and began to slow to a more normal pace. A Sending? Did they work in such a strange fashion? Before she could formulate the question, Tha?s began speaking again. The incongruousness of her flesh-and-blood face seamlessly atop the marble statue made her stomach roil. By sheer force of will Sel¨¤na swallowed her revulsion. ¡°By now you know of the evil done here. Brother against brother, friend turned to foe, and comrade turned to slayer. Even I¡ªyes I!¡ªme, the daughter of the Restorer, could not prevail.¡± ¡°Did the Conservationists encase you in this stone?¡± Sel¨¤na asked. Next to her heart she clutched the bottle of phoenix elixir. Would it be able to overcome the naiad¡¯s stone prison? As if reading her mind Tha?s said, ¡°I am not here. I have projected a portion of my memory into this statue, a tether to my dreaming mind. You activated my Sending when you poured the phoenix elixir. Listen well!¡± Projected a portion of her memory? Such a marvel seemed the sole province of prophets; her mother in particular might do such a thing. It hadn¡¯t occurred to heranyone other than a prophet could be capable of such an act. But naiads were divine, after all, and would not have the same limitations as those born to man and woman. Sel¨¤na straightened and stood at attention. ¡°What do you require of me?¡± ¡°My true body is in stasis. When the¡ªthe sundering¡ªcame to Zanbil, I and my friends had hope. We believed the rift that turned Zanbellians into Conservationist versus Unificationist would be a temporary thing. A momentary madness. In faith I made a place of retreat. I am hidden in a place I warded against invaders. My Sanctum.¡± Instinct made her pause. To Sel¨¤na¡¯s ears it did not sound as if Tha?s had given refuge to anyone else in her sanctum. Did she rescue anyone at all before hiding herself away? Why awaken now? Choosing her words carefully she asked, ¡°Is what you ask so simple? Do you know how much time has passed?¡± Tha?s sighed, long and softly. Her eyes shimmered. ¡°Lifetimes. Mortal lifetimes. I am bound here, to Zanbil. You have used the Phoenix Elixir, which means the fighting is over. Now is the time for me to awaken. I must do my part, to restore Zanbil and heal that which was cleaved asunder. This fortress is a prison. Seven spirits are bound here. And it is my fault.¡± Her fault? Lorekeepers never recorded any greater misdeed on a naiad¡¯s part beyond reacting in jealousy where a mortal lover was concerned. ¡°What did you do?¡± ¡°I ran. The Conservationists intended to use me to create the shield barrier. My immortality suited their purposes¡ª¡± In her horror Sel¨¤na forgot herself and blurted, ¡°But you¡¯re the Restorer¡¯s daughter!¡± ¡°Oh, but it was for my own good! If I were bound and sealed, the wicked sorcerers of Those Below would not be able to touch me. I could not be used for their darker magics. This possibility the Conservationists feared¡ªand not without cause. For my own good I must be bound, an ever-living power source for their ¡®barrier of protection.¡¯ For my own good.¡± Bitter laughter rang out. Flinching, Sel¨¤na looked away. Though Tha?s aimed her arrows of indictment at her supposed friends, Sel¨¤na thought of all the times Zephyra believed herself to be acting in the best interests of her people. Every dryad she received into her custody had to endure her prattle about how in reality she was aiding them by severing their ties to their Mother, the Huntress. Shame tugged at her also, for her mistaken assumption that Tha?s had retreated selfishly without regard for saving others. Such betrayal as she had faced would have forced isolation upon her. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡ª¡± ¡°You shall make good your sorrow,¡± Tha?s cut in. ¡°Obviously you know of the tormented spirits trapped in this place. I felt their joy when they were liberated. Let me share their joy! Free me! Liberate me, and I will anoint you.¡± Was it so easy? Sel¨¤na eyed the nymph, and the cuffs placed on her wrists when she was still Zephyra. She thought of her desperation, shame and despair¡ªa darkness within her soul which always seemed to rise up like a king cobra and strike at her. Injecting her with a corrosive venom that obliterated any scrap of optimism left to her, and devoured her every hope. Of course she sought to be free such darkness. Every day she scrubbed the temple and mended that which had been destroyed, she did so fervently hoping the Restorer would grant her an audience for her to plead her case. And now comes Tha?s, who made it seem as if giving Sel¨¤na a priestly anointing was the same as buying a rug at the store. As if one could obtain divine favor so cheaply. ¡°I want to free you,¡± Sel¨¤na said, and hoped she sounded sincere. ¡°And I¡¯ll do whatever you need me to do for such a purpose. But I will take nothing from you. Your friends were trying to protect you¡ªhowever wrongly¡ªfrom people like me. No different am I than the evil sorcerers of your day¡ªwhat we now name the Age of Iniquity. You owe me nothing.¡± Tha?s¡¯s eyelashes fluttered in her unmistakable confusion. ¡°N-nothing? You want nothing?¡± ¡°Nothing,¡± Sel¨¤na insisted. ¡°How can I free you?¡± For a long while Tha?s did not answer her. Anticipation made Sel¨¤na keep her silence. Dare she imagine the solution might be close at hand? Something within her power, and without great cost? Or would Tha?s oblige her to commit an incredible feat of might or sorcery? At last the naiad answered her. ¡°Redeem me. I was foolish. I fled a living death. My friends were careful to not understand me when I refused to take part in their barrier spell, when I told them what the spell would do to me. When I fled I knew mortals would have to sacrificed in my place. But¡±¡ªher voice choked up¡ª¡°but I did not think my friends would sink so low! Certain was I that my friends would have to give up their ambitions to fight the Unificationists. They would have to make peace, without me here. I was wrong. Seven mortals sacrificed to make the fortress barriers. Seven! Their spirits cry out. Give them peace, Sel¨¤na. Peace.¡± ¡°How? How may I do this? What rite must I do?¡± ¡°Look yonder, and fetch the chalice set on that bench. Collect my tears. Waste no drop!¡± Whirling on her heel, Sel¨¤na turned to face a stone bench several paces away. On it sat an alabaster chalice. Yesterday she had found it on the ground amongst the brambles near a bench. Plunder, she had supposed, and placed it on the bench to attend to it later. Shaped like swan¡¯s wings, the rim of the cup embraced the swan theme, with gold inlay along the rim depicting swans at rest. Sel¨¤na set down her bottle of phoenix elixir and exchanged it for the empty chalice. Tha?s wept. In her weeping she uttered strange words Sel¨¤na did not understand. Nevertheless, she held the cup below the naiad¡¯s chin and kept her hands steady as the tears flowed into it. All the while she made sympathetic noises, promising to free the imprisoned souls of the seven sacrifices. Meanwhile, she considered theinventory of the store room in the temple. To carry out the naiad¡¯s request she would have to transport the tears. The chalice was ill-suited for the task, but she had seen an empty flask suitable for the purpose, and worthy of a naiad¡¯s tears besides. When the chalice was full, Tha?s ceased her tears. ¡°Thank you, young maiden. Now. Take heed of my instructions¡­¡±
¡°That¡¯s four. Four crates. Oh, I¡¯m going to faint. What we could do with this! On the open market¡ªno, I would arrange a private sale. Maybe an auction. With the proceeds alone I could buy a resort island. And another country or two, I think.¡± Bessa unhooked the veil she¡¯d draped over her nose and mouth as protection from the dust, and used it to fan herself instead. Rapturous excitement brought a rosy flush to Bessa¡¯s cheeks. Well, that and the stuffy heat of the warehouse. Seeing Bessa find any amusement in their dreary trawl through the warehouse almost brought a smile to Edana¡¯s face. Almost. But there was no point in smiling, with her own face concealed behind a similar veil ¡­ and at the moment she was in no state of mind to relax. After so long searching they had at last came to a warehouse that store what she needed: mirrors of moonbow steel. Crated up for sale, no doubt to the civilizations ¡°down below.¡± And one crate included large, full-body mirrors. Of sufficient size, she hoped, to defeat the Shadow Fangs. And free the souls imprisoned inside them. Perhaps, also, free the ones who made up the barrier? But if Tregarde was right about the barrier and how it was made, then she was up against something worse than the Shadow Fangs. Still. At least she had a chance. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡°What would you do, Edana? With your share of proceeds from the sale of moonbow mirrors, what would you do?¡± The question brought her up short. The primary ambition that had driven her ever since she left Falcon¡¯s Hollow as a child ¡­ was to return to Falcon¡¯s Hollow. But now she and Bessa were women, not girls. They did not have the option of just picking up where they left off; their lives had gone beyond their childish imaginings. Before Bessa lay a future bright with promise. She would marry Lysander, and they would live on the resort island of Bessa¡¯s fantasy, and raise their assorted children. A daughter named Morwenna, and a son named Nikandros, perhaps. In her free time Bessa would write her plays, and Lysander would do whatever it was he did when he was not in the legion. And Edana? If¡ªwhen¡ªthey overcame the giants, overcame Rahqu, where would she go? What kept her from imagining a glorious future for herself? Unfettered. The word came at once to her mind. The difference between her and Bessa was that Bessa was unfettered, and she was not. ¡°I have unfinished business,¡± Edana replied, her voice sounding far off even to herself. She gripped the lid on the crate and began dragging it back into place. Her tone must have caught Bessa by surprise, for she cocked her head. ¡°With whom?¡± ¡°Myself. My family. I never tried to go to them. Never tried to make my way to Eitan. You are my family ¡­ but my father died trying to reach his. And I never redeemed that cost in any way. They were just strangers to me. Names I¡¯d heard. But strangers.¡± She clapped the dust from her hands. The warehouse was drenched in dust, of course. Sooo much dust! But she wasn¡¯t going to complain. Not now, when she finally had a possible way of accelerating their escape from the fortress. ¡°Did you ever write to them?¡± Bessa asked. She picked up her glowlight from off the adjacent crate where she¡¯d set it. At once the shadows shifted along the wall, vanishing into the light pouring through the windows. The glowlights helped them examine closer details, and every place the light of the windows did not reach. ¡°No.¡± The small word echoed, bouncing off the walls and striking into her heart. Wincing, Edana tried to shake the feeling of guilt. As a grief-stricken twelve-year-old girl, she had not written to her father¡¯s family because it seemed likely to her they would try and fetch her, or compel her somehow to come to them. But she¡¯d attributed her parents¡¯ deaths to their attempt to reach Eitan, and it seemed to her right and proper to go to her true home, in Falcon¡¯s Hollow. ¡°I wanted to come home,¡± she continued. ¡°And I was afraid. Was it a lifetime ago when you said I should try and honor my parents by the life I live? That¡¯s what I want to do. And what I was afraid I didn¡¯t do. When I was in Kyanopolis, I met many Eitanim who thought I was strange and barbaric. Because I¡¯m¡ª¡± ¡°Siluran,¡± Bessa finished, and nodded knowingly. To Rasena Valentians, Silura was a backwater, and her people were regarded as wild, savage. It was, after all, the outer edge of the world. Months away from Eitan on foot. That the Eitanim should believe outlandish tales of Silura was no wonder, being so far from them. ¡°Siluran,¡± Edana agreed. ¡°And named for my Yriellan aunt.¡± Together they exited the warehouse, and found themselves once more in the unnatural brightness of Zanbil¡¯s air. They stood now on Third West South, the name they gave to the road three streets away from their so-called South Street. ¡°Did you think your family would agree with that assessment? Of you being a barbarian?¡± Bessa asked. The pair began approaching Main Street, the thoroughfare that would connect them to South Street. ¡°Yes. I was criticized for not knowing certain customs, and speaking with my Siluran accent. Which made it hard for me to fit in. But more than that, I kept thinking I was shaming my parents by my ignorance of Eitanite ways. In my grief I could not bear for them to be diminished in anyone¡¯s eyes. And it would be horrible if I caused my father¡¯s family to think less of him. That¡¯s what I was afraid of doing. Somehow, it seemed better to avoid the possibility altogether. Back then it did not seem as if I was losing anything by not knowing his family. Strangers. That¡¯s all I saw them as, and maybe I resented them a little for drawing my father back to his land. Oh, how stupid I was!¡± Bessa threw her arm around Edana¡¯s shoulders. ¡°You need to forgive yourself. You were younger then. Of course you lacked perspective; there is no need to flagellate yourself over it. When we get out of this we¡¯ll find your family and you can lay to rest your own ghosts.¡± They had come to the familiar sight of South Street and Main, but Edana stopped in place, her heart latching onto one part of what Bessa had said: When we get out of this. Maintaining faith in Lady Nensela¡¯s quest was growing harder for her to do. Possibly she ought to have tarried in Elamis, to gather better supplies than she had brought. She had prepared for winter, but here they were in a summer environment. Trapped, and in need of magical devices. And she had left behind a city of magi! What if there had been a more better, more sensible way to come to Zanbil? Perhaps one of the sorcerers in that city could have advised her, had it occurred to her to seek out their advice. Then again, Rahqu had not permitted her to take more time. ¡°Thank you,¡± Edana said. ¡°And while I would welcome your company when I do go to my people, I suspect you yourself will be elsewhere.¡± Her tone brightened with mischief. With Bessa¡¯s arm still around her shoulders, Edana could see her quizzical sidelong stare up close. This time, she did smile. ¡°Where will I be in your scenario?¡± ¡°Your honeymoon, naturally. I will stay for your wedding, and see you off on your honeymoon. And then I will go to Eitan and find what remnant of Nuriels there may be. I will write to you of my progress, and when the season is right I shall visit you on your island retreat.¡± At this Bessa released her. Edana removed her veil. Face to face, they could see one another¡¯s expressions. Which meant she was just in time to catch the spark on Bessa¡¯s face. The spark that told her Bessa had been struck by one of her ideas again. ¡°We may not have to have our travels ruled by seasons anymore. What I want to find in Zanbil is¡ª¡± A shout interrupted them just then. They looked up to see Sel¨¤na and Alia running down Main Street toward them. ¡°What news?¡± Edana asked when they reached her. Like Bessa¡¯s, Sel¨¤na¡¯s face was also flushed with excitement. For the first time since Edana met her, the girl¡¯s hazel eyes were lively, filled with joy and triumph. ¡°Did you get the door open to the naiad pool?¡± Bessa pursued. Though she wore her long hair piled high on her head, the strands that had escaped her bun stuck to her face and neck like plaster. To preserve her own clothes Edana wore the undyed linen gowns she¡¯d scavenged in the fortress. Everyone followed her example. And even though the clothes she wore were not her own, she still hated to see them ruined by the salt crust of her own sweat. She would have paid a queenly sum for a fresh bath. Sel¨¤na held up a small bottle of rock crystal, stoppered with a carved swan top. ¡°I did. But that does not matter. What matters is that with this we can break down the barrier. What matters is that we can free seven souls. And what matters is that I know where to find a staff of teleportation.¡±
Lysander¡¯s heart jumped in his throat. An army on its way to his garrison? Or to the place where Lady Nensela¡¯s spirit had fled? Panic died down and his good sense took over when he reminded himself that Lysimachus had the camp in hand. The son of the Sea Lord could handle things there himself. He had sent Lysander to handle this problem. Murena reacted before Lysander could. The infernal king curled his lips in a sneer. ¡°Your army cannot breach anything in the celestial realm,¡± Murena pointed out. Archelaos¡¯s lips trembled. A strange sound issued forth from his mouth. It took Lysander a moment to realize Archelaos was laughing. ¡°It¡¯s a good thing she¡¯s not in the celestial realm, then! Nensela is in the Great Between. She¡¯s not dead, so she can¡¯t go to the abode of the Seeker. We can deal with her right where she is, in the little citadel she made. We can breach those walls.¡± Ah. At least now Lysander had a starting place. Go forth. Conquer. ¡°What do you have for an abyssal king?¡± Lysander demanded, glancing at Arrianus. He started to draw his sword, then stopped himself. It was ordinary steel, nothing special like star metal or moonsteel. Nothing he could use to destroy supernatural evil. Because of the ichor he knew Murena and Archelaos did not possess true bodies. What he saw of their forms was a manifestation, a reflection of the power mortals had fed to them over the years. Every time those mortals served the fell kings, they grew stronger. Strong enough to manifest in a corporeal form on Thuraia, and in this form Lysander perceived them now. Were their ¡°bodies¡± destroyed, Murena and Archelaos would still exist. But they would be significantly weaker. More importantly, they would cease to be a problem in the here and now. The problem was destroying the bodies, and Lysander rapidly calculated his options. Were he Lysimachus he could trounce Murena with his bare hands¡ªbut wait, hadn¡¯t the Sea Lord¡¯s son anointed Lysander¡¯s body with his own ichor, his own blood? Still fresh from that anointing, Lysander felt the sea dragon¡¯s power coursing through his veins. Invigorating! Also a reminder that with his eyes he saw beyond sight, and with his mind he knew that which was beyond mortal knowing. His glance strayed to his hands. He flexed his fingers. With his hands he could do things, too¡­ Conquer. Arrianus tightened his grip on his staff. ¡°I have some ideas. What did you have in mind?¡± ¡°Come,¡± Lysander said. He leapt up and sailed through the mirror¡­ He landed feet first in the morass, but it didn¡¯t bind him, as he knew it wouldn¡¯t. Murena blinked up at him, but Lysander moved too fast for the fell king to react to him. Fueled by divine ichor, Lysander grabbed Murena¡¯s right shoulder, lifting him entirely off the floor. Slick, viscous oil dripped down from the demon¡¯s leg stumps. Lysander seized the demon¡¯s left thigh, securing his grip on the Eel. In the blink of an eye, he pitched the abyssal head first into the mouth of Archelaos. Archelaos choked as Murena¡¯s stumps flailed in his jaws. Ziri had followed close behind Lysander. One swipe of his moonbow knife, and Archelaos lost his right arm at the shoulder. Ziri tossed a second knife to Lysander, who quickly severed the demon¡¯s left arm. Archelaos had no means to pull Murena out of his throat, except to pitch himself forward in a vain struggle to make his companion fall out. Lysander and Ziri swept up the severed arms. Together they clubbed Murena¡¯s stumps, forcing the Eel further into the gullet of the one who had called himself Master of the People. Archelaos gurgled and choked and writhed. In one careless blow Lysander knocked out several of the fiend¡¯s teeth, adding to the substance for Archelaos to swallow. Murena vanished. Archelaos, now top heavy, fell flat on his face. Arrianus stepped forward. He tapped the morass, which still undulated beneath their feet. He said one word, and the oil slick changed. Instead of bubbling and popping and waving at random, the oil now formed a single swirl. A whirlpool, which surrounded Archelaos. His head and shoulders sank first. It was his turn to buck and kick his way out of a horrible trap. In a matter of moments, Archelaos was no more. Lysander stared down at the spot where the abyssal was swallowed. How many generations would pass before Archelaos and Murena regained the ability to meddle with humans? Lysander shook his head and forced himself to focus on much more important problems. Arrianus spoke his thoughts aloud. ¡°How do we get to the Great Between?¡± Chapter 15, Part 1 -- The Barrier Destroyed Chapter XV, Part 1 The Barrier Destroyed In which shadows are cleansed from the fortress ¡°Whatever is above us outside is not sunlight,¡± Edana began. ¡°We know because the Shadow Fangs persist between the outer and inner walls, and surround the fortress. The light of the heavens is supposed to destroy them. Not fire, not glowlights, but sunlight, moonlight, and starlight. Alternatively¡ªthe Shadow Fangs have grown powerful enough that they cannot be destroyed by celestial light. However, I doubt this. From what I know, if they were so powerful, they would have begun hunting for us, and they haven¡¯t. They may still be weak enough to be bound to their territories.¡± Back in the warehouse, she once again uncovered the tall moonbow mirrors, this time for the benefit of all the wayfarers who came with her to Zanbil. With some effort, Tregarde lifted up one of the mirrors from its slot in the crate. As it was stored on its side, the first thing everyone saw was the heavy gold frame, styled as three long-stemmed lotus blossoms. ¡°By Pamphilos and Puabi, those are beautiful,¡± Alia marveled. The sea dragon and dryad taught humanity how to use tools and craft beautiful works. ¡°Aren¡¯t they indeed,¡± Bessa agreed. ¡°Let us hope they¡¯re still intact when we finish our mission. We¡¯re going to do this like Deukalion at Melieia,¡± she said, referring to an ancient battle in which the famed general blinded his enemies with magnificent shimmering mirrors. When Alia and Sheridan looked blankly at her in reply, Bessa quickly filled them in on Pelasgian history. ¡°Thus we¡¯ll clear the field so only the most dangerous remain,¡± Alia said. Earlier Sel¨¤na had explained to them what Tha?s said to her, of how the fortress barrier came to be erected. ¡°Trapped in a living death,¡± she had said of the sacrificial victims. ¡°Trapped just before their hearts stopped. That is a kind of timing that troubles me, because how well-practiced were the Zanbellians at the death arts that they could do such a thing precisely as intended? Without having to, um, practice? Getting it right on the first try? Without needing to select another victim?¡± In the present moment, Tregarde carefully lowered the mirror back into its place in the crate. ¡°What you speak of is not a spell for an inexperienced sorcerer or death priest. And, all of this took place during the Age of Iniquity. Such knowledge and its practitioners may have been easy to come by in those days. What would worry me would be if that knowledge were passed on.¡± He eyed Sel¨¤na¡¯s cuffs and smiled wryly. ¡°Ironically, you may be the only one of us safe, because you¡¯ve got those cuffs.¡± Silver light flashed as Edana raised her arm, revealing the silver bracelet on her own magic. The silver bracelets her artisans made, imbued with the blessings of the Sower¡¯s priests against death powers. ¡°Bessa has one, too,¡± she said. ¡°Would that I had brought more. But I have the recipe for the elixir we took against the death wind at Amavand¡¯s palace. So we are not utterly defenseless. What I want to know is whether or not the anchor souls used to create the barrier can do anything specific to harm us. Can they interfere if we destroy the last of the Shadow Fangs?¡± Alia pointed to Selena¡¯s bottle of rock crystal. ¡°Until now, I didn¡¯t know it was possible for a Sending to be tangible. The nymph Tha?s gave Sel¨¤na her tears through a Sending. It may be she was able to do that because she¡¯s divine herself, but I can¡¯t be sure. The reason it matters is that the trapped souls may be able to perform Sendings of their own. Possibly they may only frighten us, but I wonder if they have some means of protecting themselves.¡± While they had spoken, Sheridan had gone over to examine a set of chains suspending assorted bronze bells and bronze sculptures from the ceiling. Though they looked delicate, they had proved to have the strength to hold up heavy objects for several centuries. He tugged on one of the sculptures, a large leaf-shaped fixture cast in hepatizon. The chain held fast. Edana eyed the experiment with interest. Chains with such strength would suit her purposes quite well. ¡°Wait,¡± said Sheridan. ¡°Why would they protect themselves? They were conscripted, weren¡¯t they? Shouldn¡¯t they welcome us liberating them from their living death? Shouldn¡¯t they help us free them?¡± ¡°Were it so, young acolyte, that would negate the point of the spell,¡± Tregarde pointed out. ¡°If they could call for help, or help those who want to help them, then they would no longer be able to do their office. They can¡¯t be allowed to go off duty. The ones who imprisoned them would have compelled them to defend their territory.¡± He paused, and grimaced. ¡°Think like one who fights dirty. If you¡¯re the type to set a spell like this, you might be the type to make traps that would turn the would-be liberators into mortar for your shield. What was it you said, Bessa, about the guardians of your family¡¯s tomb?¡± Bessa shuddered. ¡°Ugh. You¡¯re right, the Conservationists wouldn¡¯t have made it possible to get too close to wherever their victims are trapped. Not without us having to join their number ourselves.¡± She turned to Sel¨¤na and asked, ¡°What did the naiad say we should do to free them?¡± ¡°Only that her tears would unbind the seals that trap the victims. But I have my cuffs. And you and Edana have your bracelets, and we can make the elixir Edana mentioned. We aren¡¯t helpless. And I volunteer to test it out for myself.¡± This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. ¡°Cease this foolishness,¡± Edana snapped. ¡°You¡¯re not a lone wolf here, and your life is not solely your own. Should anything happen to you, I will have to look your mother in the eye and explain why. I shall not repay her lovingkindness with news of your death. We have everything we need to do this together. So let¡¯s do this.¡±
They began with mundane mirrors first. These were backed only by silver rather than moonbow steel. Edana was concerned that the Shadow Fangs might truly be able to leave their territory. ¡°We don¡¯t want to give them time to mount a counter defense, or hide, or whatever they might do. Let¡¯s hit them all at once,¡± she said. Her first idea was to suspend the mirrors over the sides of the western inner wall. However, while she and Bessa had spent time searching for the mirrors, and Alia and Sel¨¤na had spent time cleaning the Restorer¡¯s temple, Tregarde and Sheridan had meanwhile explored the towers of the western inner wall, and the western outer wall. ¡°The towers all have windows that face the enclosure between the walls. We can place a few in those,¡± Tregarde explained. ¡°The other mirrors we¡¯ll put on top of the walls.¡± Following the sorcerer¡¯s instructions, the group spent the better part of the day arranging the silver mirrors to ensure maximum light bounce. To make sure the mirrors did not fall down from the flat crenellations in the battlement, they used the chains Sheridan had found in the warehouse to anchor them to torches affixed to the merlons in the battlements. Their confidence in the chains came from closer examination, which revealed the chains were not ordinary metal. Their opalescence signaled they, too, were made of moonbow steel, which had prompted Bessa to wonder how a floating city came to have so much of the precious metal. ¡°Mama said the Zanbellians knew how to capture the light of the lunar rainbow,¡± Sel¨¤na replied. ¡°Knowledge worth acquiring,¡± Bessa mused. ¡°Later, you must try and see if you can find any scrolls that mention how it¡¯s done.¡± Because the strange light of the ¡°sky¡± never waned, they did not have to rush. The group even had time to test Edana¡¯s observation about the sky¡¯s light coming from a source other than the heavens: though the mirrors directed beams of light into the enclosure, the shadows yet remained. ¡°Where are we then, if we see light that¡¯s not from the sun?¡± Sheridan wondered aloud. He drummed his fingers against the stone crenel of the battlements as he and Edana looked down at the enclosure between the inner and outer walls of the fortress. Nearly as tall as he was, the silver mirror would have been valuable in any other context, fetching a handsome sum in an open market. But on the inner wall of the fortress it was of no use, except to let them test how best to position the mirrors. Wails, though faint, made their way to their ears from the distant grounds below. Edana had considered this matter already, and thus she answered, ¡°Wherever we are, I think the light is independent of the shield barrier over the fortress. After everything we¡¯ve seen the Conservationists do this far, I think it¡¯s unlikely they would have allowed anyone beneath this barrier to enjoy light.¡± She took hold of the chain draped a grey sheet over the mirror. Now that it had proved useless at killing Shadow Fangs, she saw no reason to keep the silver mirror uncovered. Next to it stood the moonbow mirror,wrapped in fine white linen. ¡°Meaning what?¡± Sheridan asked. Together, they lifted the ordinary mirror out of the crenel, setting it behind the nearest merlon. Then they began raising the moonbow-steel mirror to position it where the ordinary mirror once stood. ¡°Meaning they would have left the people here in darkness. It would fit the theme: darkness to go with the terror and despair they were sowing. They took away the holy symbols, they deconsecrated their temples, they poisoned the wells. Why would they allow for those who remained to have the comfort of light, especially when they let loose the Shadow Fangs to prey upon them?¡± Already having looped a chain around the long lotus ¡°stems¡± that made up the mirror¡¯s frame, Edana now looped affixed the chain to the torch fixture inside the nearest merlon. She tugged and tested it to make sure it would hold fast. From his end, Sheridan was doing the same thing. She continued, ¡°Granted, the Shadow Fangs sow darkness, but why was there any light to obscure in the first place? No, it makes more sense if the light is coming from outside the barrier. We¡¯ll find out when we bring down the ones here. Ready?¡± Edana gripped the cloth covering the mirror, preparing to pull it down. Somewhere in his searching through the fortress Sheridan had found a ram¡¯s horn. Having tested it earlier, they knew the sound of the horn would carry. With the others in their designated stations, and all of the moonbow mirrors now in place, they could begin. Keeping her hands steady on the cloth, Edana awaited Sheridan. He unhooked the long, twisting ram¡¯s horn attached to his belt and brought it to his mouth. Echoes reverberated throughout the fortress as the horn¡¯s sounding came to them, scattered though they were. Immediately Edana gave the fabric in her hands a fierce yank, pulling it down from the mirror. Stationed as she was behind the merlon, she couldn¡¯t see the beams of light projecting into the western enclosure. But within three beats of her heart she heard ghastly, preternatural screams from down below. Exultation surged through her veins, speeding her steps as she dashed to the nearest empty crenel. It was working! The mirrors were working! Just in time, she watched as she shadows evaporated. Golden light vaporized black shadows, and howls of rage and pain turned to a joyful chorus. Tears stung her eyes at this proof of so many souls devoured and trapped by the shadow crocodiles. But rage also sparked in her, at the injustice of what had happened to them. So many centuries removed from the cruel fate imposed upon them meant she could not avenge them as she wished. ¡°Their descendants are innocent,¡± she murmured to herself. Eager though she was to enter the Royal Ward, she feared what sort of people she would find there. They hadn¡¯t seen fit to destroy the fortress barrier. They did not trouble themselves to free the souls from within the Soul Devourers. While they hadn¡¯t themselves brought the Shadow Fangs to the fortress, they hadn¡¯t done anything to eliminate them, either. This thought was on her mind when she regrouped with the others in the largest tower of the inner western wall. ¡°Shall we look for the staff now?¡± Sel¨¤na asked. In a pouch at her waist she kept the crystal bottle of naiad¡¯s tears. She hefted the pouch in her hands, as if to make sure it was there. Undoubtedly the burden the naiad had lain upon her weighed on her mind. However, on the way to the tower Edana could not help but stare into the western enclosure. In what may have been a green and beautiful field at one time, was now an open grave. Bodies upon bodies lay scattered and heaped up on grounds below. ¡°No,¡± Edana said firmly. ¡°First we free the others. Then we attend to what¡¯s left of the dead.¡±