“Jace will not escape too soon, and the princess’ path to the Duke’s chambers is open,” Asimir’s voice returns to us. The Seer’s energy burns next to his, still strong, still bright. She doesn’t have the power, so she wouldn’t be tired, would she? She’s merely an observer on this extraordinary adventure. “Ah. Jynn has exhausted herself already.”
“Quickly now,” the Seer breaks in. “We need to keep moving. Find Jace.”
He’s higher than I expected him to be, and rising, his hands strong on the ropes of a dumbwaiter, the regret at being forced to leave behind the painting prominent in his thoughts.
“He needs that painting,” the Seer reminds the others. With a weary sigh, Asimir departs again, flying down towards the waiting mind of the duke.
Our heart jumps as the door opens far faster than we expected anyone to be able to reach us. Instead of a soldier, however, the princess ducks inside, her movements furtive. Is she… sneaking? She walks to Paloran’s desk, rifling through the papers there before opening his drawers. What is she looking for?
“They must meet,” the Seer’s strong voice breaks in. I narrow my focus for what has to be the thirtieth time tonight. What truth can we tell her…
“You don’t have much time.”
She jumps, her cheeks blushing red, and we’re shocked again to feel like we recognize her, like there’s something more there than just the brief time we’ve spent together. The room is immediately bathed in green light, and spinning glass glitters menacingly around her.
“Who are you, imposter?” she asks, scowling.
“Men will be here soon, looking for me. They know I’ve come up this hoist,” we say, ignoring her question completely. “You have seconds at best.”
“Perhaps I’ll just join the hunt, and we can find out who you are and what you know…”
“I can’t hold her,” Ulia’s voice cries out weakly to us.
The fear and the tension spikes alarmingly as we become aware of the princess’ intent, her shards of glass already beginning their deadly flight. We will never be able to dodge in time, the box far too small to maneuver. But the box… the box itself can move. With the last spike of my waning focus, I push Jace’s fingers open.
“What have you done?” the Seer cries out in horror.
We fall, free-falling, the speed of our descent accelerating with each passing second. I’m at a loss, the seconds passing too quickly, time slipping through my fingers. I saved him from one death and cast him directly into another… by the Creator, all of this effort, wasted… luckily for us, Jace still has some agency in his own fate. He grabs the ropes, the skin from his strong hands burning away instantly, the ropes slicking with blood, but he holds. We hit the bottom with a mighty crash, alive but shaken. Asimir has done his job; the Duke and his servant look on us in horror.
“One last task,” the Seer practically shouts. “Jynn, take us to Kettle. She can’t be seen, can’t be remembered.”
Kettle prepares to make a run for the fence. Asimir guides us into Aurelion.
“Where’s Eligio?” the Seer declares. “We need his strength.”
Silence greets her. She seems to peer about, even though our eyes mean nothing in this state of spiritual freedom. She sighs, the sound weary, accepting.
“No, Min’dei,” Asimir says, but his protest sounds weak even to me. “There must be another way.”
“We knew this was a possibility,” she answers quietly. “Talan will be—must be—ready. Bastian, use me. Blank the minds of these men and women in the courtyard. We will guide Kettle and Aurelion out.”
Her energy mingles with mine, her soul powerful and strong, certain and yet questioning. I don’t bother arguing, but dive forward, spreading my focus like a net, erasing the knowledge of the passage of the pair as they walk right out the gates of the estate. My energy expended, the voices of the collective fallen silent, I stray into darkness.
***
Opening my eyelids is the trial of a lifetime. A decade after they open, my limbs twitch, as weak as when I woke in the cage all those days ago. I can barely lift my head, my neck trembling under the weight of my skull. I recognize the chaotic intricacies of the Seer’s personal chambers through my wavering vision. The Seer slumps next to the cushion by the bed, her arm cradling her head in the picture of peace. She looks younger with her face relaxed, her wrinkles smoothing and the severe furrow in her brow easing. I let my head flop back onto the bed.
“Did we win?” I cast into the darkness.
For a long, long moment, I think no one will answer. Distantly, almost beyond the senses of my hearing, Asimir’s voice comes back, almost unrecognizable after the ordeals we faced.
“Partially,” he says quietly. “Meddling with the future is neither art nor science. We guess as much as know. As far as I can tell, hope remains. Though how many strands perished and how many remain… impossible to say. We must rest now. And mourn.”
“What is there to be sad about if we succeeded?” I ask fuzzily, having trouble focusing through the tide of my weariness.
“Do you hear them?” he asks, his voice despairing. “Where is Ulia? Jynn? Eligio? Even the slumberers are gone, used up, their strength spent to get us to the estate. I am all that remains. I am, truly, alone.”
Confused, I reach out, but there is no answer. The space of the ring is quiet, unnaturally so, the voices and murmurs and surface thoughts of the souls stored there strangely absent.
“They didn’t… surely they can’t have… died?”
“The cost of the future is always the past,” he answers bitterly. “I couldn’t even save Min’dei.”
My eyes snap open, and I find the strength to sit up. I look over at the body of the woman once known as the Seer. The lines on her face have not smoothed in sleep, but in death. Her chest is still, her peace eternal. I lie back, what’s left of my energy evaporating as mist before a strong breeze.
That same old feeling, the same knowledge of my own insignificance, consumes me as sudden as a storm. I’ve been running from it my whole life. The despair. The meaninglessness of our lives, our hopes, our dreams, our loves, and our hates. How long did Ulia cling to her pretentious ways? How long did Jynn fight to keep her fire burning? And Eligio… the last soul of a civilization so ancient history has forgotten it, wiped away after thousands upon thousands of years of existence. I didn’t know these people for long, but the sheer history and experience the world has lost… these people have been around for thousands of years. In a single night, untold millennia of knowledge, of life, has been destroyed, and the only people who know it are the sorrowful soul of a long-dead man and me. When we finally pass on, there will be no one to remember.
The same fate that one day awaits us all.
***
The knocking at the door turns to urgent shouts as I claw my way back to consciousness. My weary mind still needs rest, my power nearly used up. The angle of the light filtering in through the windows shows it to be past midday, though I’ve no idea which day it can possibly be. The Seer still lies curled on her side. Physically, I’m recovered, my eyesight sharp, my limbs strong. I rise and look down on the corpse. Part of me admires her. When the time came to stand or to fall, she gave herself unflinchingly to the cause. I still don’t know if I honestly believe all of the nonsense these souls espoused about the tangled web of the future, but they most definitely believed it with all the fervor in the world. And they paid with their lives for it.
“Seer? Bastian? Open this door!” Te’ial’s muffled voice calls in time with the incessant pounding against the ancient wood.
I open the door before she can hurt herself. The smile of relief that eases onto her face falls away when she sees my face. She’ll probably never look at me that way again, not after what awaits her. My lips press into a line as I meet her eyes. Sudden fear fills them, and she pushes past me. I ignore her frantic calls to the Seer and the panic that laces her voice as she tries to awaken a soul that has long sin
ce departed. Her keening cries of sorrow chase me out into the hall, Te’ial’s agony an assault on my anguished spirit which I can’t endure. I walk until I can’t hear her, ignoring the sound of rushing feet and the first angry lamentations as Isa learns the fate of its beloved Seer. The spiral staircase seems the only escape, so, ignoring the complaint in my limbs, I push up to the rooftop of the brilliant diamond tower.
Safe on that high vantage once again, my lungs gulp the fresh salt air, struggling to regain balance here in this city filled with enemies. I’ll need my focus and my strength.
The Seer was my only ally among an entire nation made up of uncompromising zealots. The deal we struck was silent, and there were no witnesses. My stomach lurches as a new thought strikes me. Of course there were no witnesses. Of course she agreed to whatever terms I asked for. She knew that she wouldn’t be here afterwards, and not a single soul will trust me or listen to me now that she’s gone. When they learn that I was alone with her the night she died, they will probably try to kill me. And most likely succeed.
The wily bitch manipulated me masterfully. I try to be bitter, but my admiration for her grows instead. How she hid all of this from me while our thoughts and souls intermingled is beyond my understanding. I’ll learn from her, if I can live long enough to use her lessons.
Gazing out over the sheltered bay where Isa once stood, the business of the People continues for the brief moments they have left before the nation descends into anger and sorrow. Young couples walk together, fingers intertwined, a few early merchants preparing their wares for the coming day. A new ship sails into the mouth of the bay, its sails strangely familiar. A shock of recognition lances through me. The Mason’s Fall. Even as they close, I pick out the proud figure perched on the bow, guiding the ship into dock. His broad chest and powerful shoulders stand out miles away. Fear rises in my throat despite our distance. He is the cause of all my troubles, the reason I’m trapped in this Creator-forsaken land.
“Talan will be—must be—ready.”
As he steps off onto the docks, I hope he is. Because I really need him to have a long conversation with Asimir before he decides my fate.
The expected party of angry tribesmen stomps around the winding staircase waving curved weapons. They shout at me in their foreign tongue, their faces locked in a collective of rictus rage. I open my hands quietly at my side. I haven’t recovered enough to affect this many, let alone pierce through the haze of emotion that grips them. If the moment of my death has arrived, there’s nothing I can do about it. At least their hate will ruin them. The explosion of power my death creates may well cripple the minds of everyone within the walls of Isa. At least I get to spit in their faces even as they drag me into oblivion.
I wish the thought brought me any satisfaction.
So I ignore them, turning and looking out over the bay again. The view steals my attention, here in the middle of the mightiest city the world has ever known, the broken capital of the most powerful kingdom the world has ever seen. The gentle breeze carries the soft scent of the sea, overwhelming any stench of human corruption from the world. I breathe deeply, the sigh rushing forth and taking all my tension and fear with it. If it happens, it happens.
They continue to shout at my back, the only word I can pick out from their gibberish thriska. Tainted. I take another deep breath, and just as I let it out, they fall silent. Talan strides up the stairs with the grace of a hunting panther. He doesn’t acknowledge me, but joins me at the edge of the platform to gaze out over the city. The deep resonance of his voice reverberates through my chest in the I’wia, and the people leave, filing silently away.
“She did not expect to survive,” Talan speaks quietly, his voice cutting through the breeze. “When I left this last time, she said goodbye in such a way I knew it to be final.”
“She sacrificed herself for the future she believed in,” I tell him honestly.
“Did she succeed? Has the Worldfire been averted?” he asks, turning to me with terror and hope mixed in his gaze.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the heir to the Seer knows of these things, but I am. As I search his face, little remains of the selfish man who placed his search for a sister over the well-being of his people.
“For now,” I say. “The cost was absurdly high, but the futures, some of them at least, appear to still be alive.”
“Then we are blessed indeed,” he says sincerely, turning back to the bay. “Even though I know you were not willing, I thank you for your part all the same.”
“So you know, then,” I say, turning to him in shock. “You know that your beliefs about the Shapers are nonsense.”
“I have been educated, since last we met,” he answers, his mouth curving up into a half smile. “It is remarkable, how you can see so much of the world and yet remain so blind. It gives me hope for all of humanity. The Shapers may one day serve the Creator’s purpose again.”
“Who is Aea?” I ask suddenly, my mind jumping back to the Te’ial’s memory in the ship’s hold. I don’t know why the question slips between my teeth. I scowl, thinking Ulia is manipulating my thoughts, but then I remember. She’s gone.
“My sister,” he answers, his smile growing. “Not tainted. Not R’hea of Darkness. Simply Aea. I have not found her, but I will, now that the future is secure.”
“You mean Kettle?” I blurt out, some pieces clicking into place.
“Who?”
“Nevermind.”
So what if it’s petty. The man punched me in the face, and his people held me captive for years. Why should I give him this truth? Let him suffer.
“I’m glad you’ve come around,” I say instead, slapping him on the back and smiling a free smile for the first time in a long time. He loses his smile and glares at me.
“Do not forget, fool, I would have killed you for daring to touch Te’ial. Your taint… your gift,” he corrects himself, his mouth twisting. “Was the only reason I spared you.”
“I’ll take what I can get,” I answer, not losing my smile.
“You asked for a ship,” he says, his gaze intent. “You wished to go home. You wished to find your brother, who the Seer told me to assure you still lives. The Mason’s Fall has returned to take you back to Coin, so long as you swear on the life of your brother to tell no one of Isa. The People honor our agreements.”
***
As Summer dips into Autumn, the Mason’s Fall cuts through the choppy waves as we skirt along the Way of the West. Standing solidly at the rail, arms crossed, I stare steadily at the horizon. The salt spray is a blessed balm on my face, a welcome relief from the relentlessly beating sun. Apparently, spending more than a year unconscious on a ship gave me the sea legs I couldn’t find in my first voyage.
My first moments on the Mason’s Fall were occupied by a surprising reunion: Tana had joined the crew two years before, cheerful and helpful as she is, now tanned nearly as dark as the People she works beside. The scar where her slave mark once rested is almost imperceptible after the long years spent in the sun upon the waves. Somber, she stands at the rail beside me. They told us that we would be sighting land today. The rooftops of Sail should be visible any moment.
“I haven’t been back,” she says in a small voice. “Not since… you know.”
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “If I never thanked you before, you’re the only reason I’m standing here. I won’t let Cortola take you back, if the man still lives. You’re safe with me.”
“I know,” she says simply, her eyes still intently watching the horizon.
“If you don’t protect her, I will,” a voice cuts through my thoughts. “I like her.”
“Jynn?”
Epilogue
The Eternal
The Seventh Day of Winter
In the Year 5204, Council Reckoning
She hasn’t spoken in eighty-seven years.
The thought is slow to come and slower to leave, the languorous stretch of a long-dormant psyche. The
present is as foreign to her as the sun; she once traced the moment she went blind in a childish fit two hundred years after Sherrine. Not that it matters. The sun never casts its rays deep enough to pierce the impenetrable darkness of her existence. Nothing that lives there has need of sight. The pressure at the bottom of the ocean was unbearable for the first decade, or would have been, but she hadn’t spent a moment in the present, knowing how awful those times would be.
The man at her side suffered through each and every one of them. She almost reaches out to touch him, to wake him, to begin. But no. Let him sleep a little longer. His dreams are pleasant, she knows. He cannot remember the forests, the sun, the sky. But he dreams in emotion and golden light, and she remembers from long examination that these dreams, these particular, final dreams, will be lovely.
It nears midnight, directly above. The sun just rises for the Khals. The evening stars twinkle over Donir. She has studied this day so often she knows the vagaries of the wind and the sorrows of the people. She can see as her eyes will never see again, the tension in the shoulders, the fear set deeply in the lines of the face of the man she set on this course eighty-seven years before. The orders have been given, the pieces moved into place, and all that remains is to see if he will succeed. If he can dethrone a government that has spent five thousand years ruling.
He had been young, idealistic, so full of wonder and life that her heart sought to break for him the moment she opened her mouth. Finding part of Isa had been the triumph of his young life, the broken remnants of the unbreakable city there under the ocean’s waves. His excitement led him deeper, down, past ruins lit only by the soft blue glow of his power, past creatures with no eyes to see him, deeper than any had gone before. He hadn’t believed it, at first, the moment his straining eyes caught the glimmer of golden light in the darkness. It was impossible, that light, that soft golden glow there so far from the world of light. Of course he had explored onward, never expecting to find what he found. He had been so excited, so happy, so young. He didn’t deserve the fate the future—the future she created—had in store for him, but the sacrifice of one is worth the salvation of many.
The Crux of Eternity: Eternal Dream, Book 1 (The Eternal Dream Saga) Page 54
