There had been a few, like the Corneth slavers, that wished for selfish things during those blistering days. They stood out like stinking wounds and we did not suffer them to remain. A barge crammed with them was due to head south.
The Hessier were flooding through the unguarded pass toward the Crimson Valley, and we would be next if we did not get further downriver and out of their way.
“Are you sure you want to meet Soma alone?” Evand asked me.
“She’s not as scary as everyone thinks,” I said.
“You know what he means,” Liv said. “The letters between us are the best we could have hoped for, but she serves the White Lady. Do not forget it. We may not be on the same side.”
I hugged them and walked alone down the pier as Soma stepped out of a longboat and made her way toward me. She was taller than I was, but not the giant I was expecting. I’d had a greeting in mind, only to lose it as she stood before me. She was angry and tired. Her uniform was dusty and crumbled, and those with her looked equally abused by the trip they had suffered.
“No gulls,” she said, looking around. “The river has never been so quiet.”
“It was a lot of work for the Hemari. We had to resort to poisons. Evand did not like giving the order.”
“Thank you for understanding my letter. The beast he sends flying above us—they are the worst,” she said and scoured her tired eyes. “You can see them—the Hessier?”
“The fight for the valley will start soon. Do you think Sikhek can stop them?”
“It does not matter who wins. The Shadow will have hold of the victor and the beasts will come for us. We must get these people behind Barok and Rahan’s armies.”
We fell silent again for a time and watched her battered fleet as it hurried around the bends of the river toward the harbor and the help that waited for them.
“It would see that we are adversaries,” she said and the tension in her neck moved down to her shoulders and hands.
“I’ve heard the same, but I have no quarrel with you.”
She closed her tired eyes to look at my soul in her way, and I did the same to look at hers in mine. I was too worked up, perhaps, and could scarcely see anything. Her threads were there though, as savage and thick as ever. They were attached to Evand and the Vesteal as much as they were to her daughter and her crew.
“I understand your connection with Barok and his family,” I said. “What do you want from Evand?”
“Your soul troubles me, too. There is no light left in it—worse than Sikhek or Geart. I cannot understand how you are still alive.”
“Answer me, please, Soma. What is my father to you?”
“You grew up worshipping Bayen, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but he is nothing to me now. I have seen the souls of every person in Zoviya, Soma, and I can see my soul, blazing bright and whole connected to them all. I have been above, where the spirits move and war with each other and would see their war brought to an end. What is your concern?”
“Child, you have no soul. When your eyes are closed, whatever you see of yourself does not reflect the condition of your mortal engine. I believe that you and Sikhek belong to this third one—The Vastness. He has been working against me since I first set sail for the Priests’ Home. I cannot have you inspiring the same. I have felt him pressing upon me again as we approach the city.”
“I belong to no one.”
Her threads lurched back from me as though I had struck her, but I had not. I opened my eyes to see her skin glowing bright blue while smoke curled from my hands. She jammed her hand into the pouch at her hip as the air between us crackled and tumbled with heat.
“You’ll not burn me, girl,” she shouted and ran toward me as her pouch caught fire. “White Mother, preserve me.”
“It’s not me,” I yelled at her as she grabbed hold of my neck with muddy hands as hot as bread from the oven. The air filled with honey and roses, I felt a terrible stab as though she meant to cut my soul to shreds. I caught her wrists with my hands.
Everything stopped.
The air went still. The heat and sizzle vanished. The lancing pain disappeared, and she looked at me as though her hurts had gone as well. The burning pouch guttered and went cold as we looked at each other and around the pier. Cold mud slid down my collarbone.
Blinking my eyes I could see nothing—not my soul nor anything else.
“What did you do?” she asked.
“Nothing, Soma. Did you lose your magic, too? I can feel none of mine.”
The people on either end of the pier were rushing toward us.
“Stay back,” she and I both yelled at them at the same time as we clutched each other.
Around us a ball of swirling smoke began to form. Beyond it I felt the Vastness trying to get back inside me.
“Don’t let go, Soma,” I said. She was having a hard time standing. “Are you okay?”
“I am old,” she said and sagged into me.
The smoky shell around us expanded and its surface twisted with blue scratches. A low hiss rose over the soft lap of river waves.
Liv and a girl in yellow broke free of the men that had heard our calls to stay away. They raced toward us.
“No, mother, stay back,” I screamed through the smoke and they both came to a halt beyond the smoke.
“Pikailia?” Soma said to the girl, weak and bleary-eyed.
“Mother, what can I do?”
“Our magic has gone,” I said. “When we touched each other, it went away. The spirits are trying to get back to us. They would have us kill each other.”
Soma’s daughter drew a knife but was not as quick to attack as her mother and stayed beyond the expanding globe of tortured smoke. “What happens when you let go?”
The smoke began to get thicker and the blue streaks became lashing forks of lightning across its surface.
“We need to get apart from each other, and fast, I think.”
Soma grabbed a fistful of my dress to stay upright and looked around. “What have I become?”
I felt different, too. Smaller somehow. A girl from yellow row and nothing more.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” I asked her.
She managed to stand on her own, but kept a solid hold on my neck. “Yes, Emilia. Yes, it does. I have been driven by it for so long. Gods, was Sikhek right? Have I been the Spirit’s tool?”
The growling smoke went black and became too thick to see outside. The hiss became a roar as the crackle of biting lightning became endless.
“How do we be rid of them?” I asked.
She took my face in her hands and searched my eyes. “You mean it.”
“I do. I never asked for this. I will use it to save everyone I can while it is inside me, but this body is mine and I want it back.”
“How do we get away from each other without killing each other? She would have me mend your soul. It would kill you.”
Black and blue, the ball began to pulse.
“I am going to run,” I said. “Aim your magic at my mother and father. Their souls have not suffered terribly since you mended them when you were in Bessradi. They can take the hit.”
“Who will you aim yours at? I don’t have anyone with me that deserves to burn.”
“I have a target,” I said and leapt away from her. The lightning globe collapsed upon us, and Liv and Evand screamed as Soma mended their souls. The smoke leapt into me and it demand someone burn. I could not stop it. I tried for a moment, but it was a mountain falling upon me. On the far side of the city a barge full of profiteers and slavers burst into flames.
I hefted my mother up, told her I was alright, and turned. Soma and her daughter were upright too and blazing blue, but like the smoke, it was already fading.
“Stay here, mother,” I said and stepped back toward Soma. “I will not have that happen again. Come here so that I can take hold of this god who means to rule me.”
“Is that wise, Emi?” Soma asked.
�
��I will be no one’s slave. Come here.”
She smiled at that and marched toward me while straightening her uniform and winding her fallen lengths of gray hair back beneath her hat with the sure stab of a forked hairpin.
We got within twenty paces and the air began again to warm and crackle.
“Now what?” she asked.
“They love our tension. I think we should be friends. What’s your daughter’s name?” I asked.
“Relaxing will be hard.”
“Try.”
“Damn it, girl,” she said, swore, and worked to unbutton her uniform. “Hold on. Pikailia, come unlace me.”
The girl came fast and undid lacing across Soma’s back until with a great happy exclamation, Soma wrapped off her corset and flung it on the pier. “Emi, Pia. Pia, this is Emi. Be friendly.”
“Do you always have to wear those?” I asked. “They look terrible.”
“Not all bad,” she said, while she scratched Soma’s back and side until her both began to swat her hands away. “Tough when you’re tired. I hear you have a sister now is that right? Eris, was it?”
“Aris. She is a darling.” I turned to Liv, who stood flatfooted but seem to understand what was going on. “Mother, can you bring her, please?”
The crackling continued but did not grow. Liv considered it for a long moment before moving as I asked.
“I have my father’s eyes and chin,” Pikailia said, and I had to giggle. She did not look much like Soma at all.
I took a step forward and called Franni forward, too, while Soma called in an officer named Tayler and a healer named Earinne. Introductions were made as the group gathered around us. Little Aris was passed around for everyone to coo at. The crackling faded as they got to know each other, and I was three paces away from Soma when a pain began to creep across my eyes.
“It is starting to hurt,” Soma said.
“For me, too,” I said. “That might be as close as we can get. They might be getting wise to us.”
“What do we do when they learn that we are rebelling?”
“I’ll kill yours and you can kill mine.”
“Agreed. Let’s get to the harbor. The refugees will spill all over the city and countryside if we don’t keep them on the boats.”
“It was nice to meet you, Soma. All of you.”
The group gave us a last great hug before we got to work.
68
Minister Sikhek Vesteal
The next aftershock went unnoticed by those around me.
Maison had received report that the last of Soma’s lumbering flow of bodies and ships had crossed into Thanin and would reach the safety of the river. An engineer would have told a story of ropes, skids, and the blocks they used to carry their ship through the valley. A politician would have told the story of the people of Dahar that became the glue between the Yud and the Aneathean. A scholar of my former church would have lamented Soma’s blasphemous magic and its affect upon the multitude.
The story of me for that same set of days includes all the mechanisms of a crossbow and my efforts to perfect their design. I flipped the polished steel serving in my hand over and over before fitting it into the stock. The rest of the pieces came together in a flurry, and I lifted my head with a smile. It was a masterpiece.
Wait.
What did the perfection of a crossbow serving have to do with anything? I shook my head and an old notion tapped at my consciousness.
Was I the writer of my story, or did someone else hold the brush and vellum? Someone too clever by half, regardless of the author, it seemed. I despised to have my story come to an end, but those the read the full account of me would understand that I was the hero.
The ground trembled again, and a wisp of dust dropped from the roof of the wide hall filled with industrious Savdi-Nuar and the hardwood and components of their weapons.
“The last of our retreating pikemen are moving up through the terraces now,” a man said to Maison. Mika thanked the man.
The messenger was not wearing a face-wrap and coughed against the heavy stench of the cinnabar smelter.
I’d forgotten all about the massive batch they were making and asked, “Where can I find the finished mercury? It is time for me to prepare.”
“Come,” Maison said, “We’ve a last change to the design based on your input.”
“Forget about the crossbows. Your priests will not be enough to keep away Geart’s touch. When he arrives, I am the only one that can hold him off. Take me to the mercury now so I can prepare.”
Mika took hold of my arm. “Come, Sikhek, I’ve something you must see.”
“Enough of this. You think you know me so well?”
“Minister, we have more stories of you than all the archives in Zoviya combined. We have a college dedicated to the study of your life. Would you like to see it?”
“No. How dreadful.”
“That is true. It does not read well.”
“Poorly written?”
Her expression changed, and Maison began to interject, but she put her hand upon his arm.
She said to me, “No Sikhek. It is a poor subject. What drives you has changed too many times. Metallurgist. Murderer. Man of magic. Father of the Empire. Vandal. Thief. Recruiter. Mason. Road builder. Exorcist. General.”
“Are those chapter headers?”
“Titles of the collected volumes. You have started and restarted several careers over the centuries, forgetting your past works as often as you mistakenly tear them down or take credit for the work of others. Your personality and drives blow sharply.”
The gathered men and woman stared at me, studying.
“These are theories regarding my nature, I must conclude.”
“Several, but most give you credit where none is due.”
“Oh? Which theory of me do you ascribe to from this college of yours?”
“This is the point we disagreed with our last Sten about, and the reason he was removed.”
“Mika,” her father said. “You overstep.”
“And you acquiesce, father. Today is the day it happens. It has been agreed. Stand fast or find a mule and ride away.”
“Hold on,” I said. “What do you mean, ‘your Sten?’ Disand was mine.”
“No. Ours. Our Hessier. Our Sten. Our Minister.”
My loyal Savdi-Nuar were rebelling. I searched the faces of those around me for those who remained true. I needed time and tried to keep her talking. “And what is this theory you hold to?”
“It is no longer theory. You are a compulsive and wretched child. Your whims are driven by what’s in front of you, and only your all-consuming ego keeps you focused long enough to claim a rudimentary mastery of any one skill. You are average. An author that takes three years to complete a tale a master could deliver in a season, and a sculptor that spends a lifetime on one minor work. The only original thing you have ever done is convince your family to murder itself for your fantasy of power. Ever since that day, you have been a meandering fool who tears the world apart.”
“And here you all sat, studying this fool.”
“We study you so we can control you. We have done so for a millennium. We are the ones who put shiny objects before you and guide you as we wish.”
I glanced at the crossbows.
“You control me? Why not kill me and rule this world if you are such gods amongst men?”
“Many have tried. Two full volumes worth of poorly conceived and well-reasoned attempts. Aden got closer than any before him, yet your torso was fished out of the Bessradi.”
“Who are you? You are supposed to be my Savdi-Nuar!”
“We are the ones that will succeed. You, the Vesteal, and all the rest. Today will be your last day.”
“Never,” I said and swung a song around upon them.
flesh burn
The verse tore at Mika for a moment but then crumbled. She’d knocked it aside as easily as I had ever done to Hessier that rebelled against me.
&
nbsp; “Take him,” she said.
They swarmed me, bound my hands and feet, and stuffed me into a thick leather bag lined with silver. A thick silver bar gag was jammed into my mouth and the bag was secured to a heavy steel rod. Two men hefted me up and carried me out onto the wide clear slope above the highest terrace. A fixture in the ground waited there and they stood the bar up into a slot. I was left hanging there like bait.
A second leather bag was hung next to me. I could not see its contents, but it smelled of wounds and old rags. A collection, perhaps, of the pieces of cloth that had been stained with my blood.
They stepped from view, and I could do nothing but look down the valley.
The sky grew dark and the air stopped moving. Shapes began to circle in the sky overhead. Through the still air the shrieks of hawks and buzzards echoed off the valley’s red walls.
The birds came fast and dived in at me. Hundreds of misshapen things, all claws, and ichor-stained feathers. My face and body were gouged. Screams of the dead birds echoed through my bloody body, the sound was worse than the pain. Talons took hold of me and tore away a hunk of my flesh. Part of my jaw came away and the gag was torn free.
And then all went still. I blinked. One of my eyes had been plucked out. With the one that remained, I became aware of the carpeting of dead birds that littered the ground around me.
I’d forgotten it. Mika and the rest were as Soma, and their touch could sever the Shadow from any Hessier or Ashmari.
I was hauled up and moved a short distance back to another fixture in the ground while the pile of dead birds was burned. The black smoke washed over me. I choked and was made mindless. When next I could think and see, the sky was dark, and the watch fires far below were beginning to go out.
Orders sounded down the terraces, and the slopes began to glow orange as the Nuar coaxed the ghosts that filled the many trenches. The heat hollowed out the fog along the center of the valley. In a place or two, something caught fire. Shadows danced upon the forward faces of each trench and the back of each man and battlement.
“There,” a man called and I found a shape below. It was too large to be a man—a black silhouette standing in the center of the fog-shrouded froth of red clay. He stopped there and the valley trembled.
The Vastness Page 58
