by Kyrja
Some of them were dangerous, she knew. Or, at least, that’s what she’d been told. That was another reason to keep the council members away from everyone else, because sometimes they had to do things people didn’t like. That’s what leaders did, but not everyone could accept that, and so there was no choice but to live away from everyone else, so nobody could just come to their house and hurt them. That was the only reason Sina had finally moved from the bush where Vray had left her – because she knew she wasn’t supposed to trust anyone, and they might hurt her in order to make her mother do what they wanted.
And she had heard of Vray before. She hadn’t known his name, of course, but she had overheard that there was a Fire Tender who had the ability to take life from birds, plants, and other living things, and make strange things happen. She knew her mother was very afraid of him, counseling against using him to breed, so that there were none others that were born that way. It was enough, her mother had said, that he perform his duties to Sov; they didn’t need him to be entertaining the Kasais while he was at it. She had been confused when she’d heard her mother say that, because it didn’t make any sense that the Kasais would be entertained by having a Fire Tender kill a bird to give its life force to something else. At the time, she hadn’t been able to imagine what else a Fire Tender might do with a life force, other than to give it to Sov, as he was supposed to, but that was before the strangers had come. She had seen exactly what Vray could do with her own eyes. And he had said he thought she was a Fire Tender too! Now she knew he had only said that in order to gain her trust so she would stay right where she was until he came back for her.
She had no idea where else to go; the city was full of strangers, and Fire Tenders. She thought of going to the fountain, because there was water there, but she just knew that Vray would look for her there, so she wouldn’t be safe there either. No, there wasn’t anywhere in Nohoyo she would be able to go to be safe. She shivered again, this time harder than before, because she knew what she had to do. There really was no other choice, if she wanted to stay safe. She was going to have to leave Nohoyo. The barrier was down. She had heard many people say the same thing over and over. Some had already left without harm. She knew it was going to be nearly impossible for her to survive with no skills and precious little water, but it was the only way she could think of to not let the strangers use her to make her mother do whatever they wanted her to.
If only I could talk to her before I left, she thought, blinking back hot tears. She might already be dead, though. And seeing her mother’s dead body was not something she was prepared to do. Not ever. Since Vray was here now, she would go to the fountain first, to fill her water bag, and to pick some more fruit that she knew grew there. After that, she would turn west and keep walking until she found somewhere else to live. There really wasn’t any other choice. Taking one last look at Vray, she almost screamed when it seemed like he was looking straight at her. But when he made no move to talk to her, or motion her towards him, she turned her back on him, walking away from everything she had ever known. There was just no choice. She had to leave, and so she did.
* * * * * * * *
When he realized he was never going to be able to figure out where Afdal had gone, at least not in time to do anything about whatever he was up to, Oculis had done the unthinkable. He had folded his wings, landing on the sand of the desert, right where it met the mountains of Midbar, and he had bowed his head. For good measure, he threw out his arms as he faced east, sending a heartfelt plea for Siri Ventus to hear him. It had taken very little time to reach an agreement between them, although he knew it would be something he would regret later. So now, here he was, flying over the city that wasn’t even supposed to be here, with Siri Ventus seeing the sight through his eyes. Neither of them was as pleased with the arrangement as they had once been, but much had changed – permanently – since he had left her. With the stolen goblet, her voice reminded him. He almost smiled at that. They both knew there was no point in arguing about what had and had not happened, and so her rebuke was more of a gentle joke than any true criticism.
He had, however, been shocked to learn that Siri had called her brother, Serat Caeli, to join her in this battle against Sov. Oculis found he actually missed Serat, even though it had been a very long time since last he’d thought about him. He had changed, of course; he was no longer a “boy,” nor was he blind. Oculis had not known him to be anything other than both those things. Siri had warned him that Serat had changed dramatically, but that he had asked after him. He was surprised to discover how much that small fact pleased him. She confessed she hadn’t planned on telling him about her brother, but there was no other way to convince him that she did, indeed, know where Afdal was going. If he was hoping to get the crystal seed for himself, he would have to be going to Nohoyo, where everyone was hoping Denit would return. It wasn’t likely Afdal was going to be able to claim it for himself, they both agreed, but there was no point in taking chances. Siri had impressed upon Oculis that it must be shattered for their world to survive. When an image of Nieva involuntarily appeared in his mind at the thought of the world being destroyed, Siri had mistaken his concern for the child as being her granddaughter. In no way was he going to allow her to know that he was her father. At least, not until the time was right.
It was obvious Amphedia had engaged Sov; just looking at the sun, it was easy to see he was coming apart. His body was spreading out further. Siri confirmed that Serat was concerned the planet would soon be without sunlight if Denit wasn’t quickly returned and the crystal shattered.
Wait! There! Was that Denit racing through the sky, returning at last? Even with his vision, it wasn’t possible to tell. Either that, or a part of Sov was racing towards them, and if that was the case, there was about to be a lot more humans killed in the city below.
Chapter Fifteen – False Emperor
Quite out of character, the emperor squinted his eyes while turning his head slowly to the right, as if he had heard a sound, or had had a thought which displeased him. For another man, the motion would have passed unnoticed. For the emperor to do more than to sit quietly frowning, occasionally nodding his head in approval, or moving his hand in a gesture which clearly meant “no,” this movement was almost frightening in its intensity. There had been a time when he had been much more animated, and had spent much energy shouting, or throwing things. During that time of his reign, when the shouting had started, that usually meant someone was going to die. In recent years, though, with his health failing, his movements had become minimal. The results were, inevitably, still the same, regardless of which gestures he used, though, so this particularly sudden movement made the men and women sitting at the low table with him practically jump out of their collective skins.
Waiting motionless for him to elaborate on what he wanted from them, they were relieved when he inhaled deeply, then closed his eyes, putting his hands together in his lap. Immediately, each of the individuals sitting around the table got to their feet, bowed, then turned to leave. Not one of them lingered, no matter that they all had questions requiring his approval or disapproval. When the emperor closed his eyes, you left. Or risked his wrath.
A few moments later, two of the guards were all that remained behind. When he raised his hands, they immediately stepped forward to help him to his feet as unobtrusively as possible. Once on his feet, he clenched his jaws, once more closing his eyes. They, in turn, bowed in unison, then left the room behind the others. A moment later, the emperor was alone. Or, what passed for “alone,” here in his public chamber. Here, and in most places throughout the palace, his heartbeat was monitored by magic so that if it increased, the number of guards surrounding him did the same. There was only one place throughout the entire sprawling compound that he could be truly alone, and that was in the covered gardens. Many had tried to persuade him against such folly, knowing the glass ceiling and walls were easily breached, but he would hear no arguments against this edict. He would be
alone when he was in the gardens; any attempt to deny him this solitude would be met with immediate and brutal death – even to those who thought they were only acting in his best interest.
When he had tilted his head in the meeting, he had, indeed, heard a sound. One he had been waiting to hear for a very long time. It heralded the arrival of someone who would either be very, very glad to see him, or terrified. He had waited years to find out which it would be. Careful not to allow his heart rate to accelerate – only possible from having practiced a great deal to ensure such a thing was possible under extreme duress – he entered the gardens, closing the door firmly behind him. Not, of course, before seeing two of his guards discretely station themselves directly in front of the double doors to his private sanctuary. Yes, as always, they were facing outward, and not looking into the gardens. Very well. Exhaling briefly with relief, the emperor walked sedately towards the pomegranate vines.
That’s where the sigil was that would have attracted the visitor that most-certainly was here, in the gardens. He would have been unable to resist it once he was within a certain radius of the palace. That, of course, was the very reason this garden had been made for the exclusive use of the emperor – so this visitor would have a reasonable chance to arrive unmolested. The musical note the emperor had heard during the meeting meant that he was here. No one else would have set off that silent alarm. Silent to all but the emperor, of course. They had unfinished business together. Business no one else could be allowed to observe, lest the entire empire crumble beneath the secret the two of them shared. Or, the emperor reconsidered – the secret the two of them would share.
* * * * * * * *
They had discussed this before they had made their way into the palace through the drain pipe leading out of the gardens. In no way should Kaya use magic in order to subdue anyone once they were inside the palace. They had agreed. He had sworn he wouldn’t unless things got out of hand. He knew it was highly likely there were traps set specifically for “magic makers” everywhere. And yet he had his hand raised as if he was going to start drawing symbols. Aidena put her own hand on his, shaking her head at him. “No” she mouthed, a warning look on her face. While he rolled his eyes at her, he did put his hand down. His next gesture was clearly meant to ask her what she would recommend they do instead.
One man. An old man. By himself. In ornate robes which were hardly conducive to fighting. Miming a knockout punch, she nodded towards the man walking so calmly down the aisle of trees towards them. Given the lighting in here, there was no way he would be able to see them until it was too late. On the other hand, he wasn’t likely to stay down long enough for them to get where they needed to go, and they had nothing to tie him up with. Maybe they would be able to find something to use once they had him knocked out. Trying to see through the trees, vines, and other foliage around them, she didn’t notice when Kaya took his first two steps away from her. Damn him! she cursed under her breath as soon as she did notice. By then it was too late. Intending to go after him, she looked up to see the distance between him and the old man, then stopped dead in her tracks, with her mouth hanging open in astonishment.
* * * * * * * *
As Kaya watched, the emperor shed his height, his bulk, his limp, and even his clothes, in the space of three steps, leaving behind a lithe, dark-haired woman in a plain, black, floor-length robe which covered everything but her face and hands.
“Kaya,” she said his name, no louder than a whisper, and yet he’d heard her. He hardly even knew what he was doing as he took a step towards her. Something about her …
The next thing he knew, he was lying face down on the neatly tiled floor of the gardens, unable to get up because he was being held there by … Aidena.
“Who is this Kaya?” he heard the woman ask him, in a tone that made it clear she knew who he was, even if he did not know who she was, and he was expected to provide answers to her.
“Yes, Kaya,” Aidena echoed the woman, “who is this?” She was still holding him down with Air, and while it may be possible to break her hold, he wasn’t willing to do so if he didn’t have to. They still didn’t know if using his magic would create more problems for them.
Kaya felt a most-pleasant thrill of disbelief run through him, when the woman’s face softened as she asked him, “Did you give her a pomegranate fruit to eat when she was five years old too?”
“Rhian?!” He absolutely could not believe it! “Aidena, let me up!” he insisted. “This is …”
“The emperor’s daughter,” she finished for him, still uncertain whether or not it was a good idea to let him up. “I remember what you told me.” Releasing him, she remained ready to knock either one of them down if the woman started acting funny, or if Kaya started acting like an idiot again. How would they even be able to tell whether this woman really was the emperor’s daughter or some kind of decoy? Or maybe she was just going to kill them right here and now without even pretending to do anything else!
There was nothing in the world Kaya wanted to do more than to wrap his arms around the woman in front of him and hold her to him. It didn’t really matter that he’d only been eight years old when he’d last seen her, he was just so very happy she was still alive! “Sahil said you were …”
“Dead,” she finished for him. “Yes, I know, and I’m glad to hear the rumor had spread far enough for him to learn of it. I had hoped that was exactly what would happen,” she smiled.
“But …” he sputtered, hardly knowing where to begin.
“You are more handsome than I had hoped,” she told him, still smiling. She reached out towards his arm to touch him, but then withdrew it without making contact. “But that’s not why you are here, is it?” she chuckled softly when he blushed.
“Are we in danger of being discovered here?” Aidena asked her, hoping to move the conversation along. They had a very serious objective to accomplish, and while this was a pleasant surprise (she hoped), it wasn’t getting the job done.
“We will have a short time before anyone begins to become uncomfortable enough to check on me,” she replied, motioning towards a table with two chairs. Sitting herself down on the tiles, she invited them to use the chairs.
“Why are you …” Kaya began, but stopped as soon as Rhian held up her hand.
“Let me tell you quickly, so then you can tell me what you are finally doing here, if it isn’t to claim your bride.”
“Claim my …” Kaya choked. “I would have used the front door for that!” he exclaimed.
“Even though my father would have you killed on sight?” she asked, smiling again. Aidena couldn’t imagine what the other woman found so humorous in the situation, but she certainly was making Kaya squirm.
“Why did you look like a man when you came in here?” Aidena asked, once again trying to get all of them moving in a productive direction.
“Magic, of course,” Rhian supplied.
“You can do magic?” Kaya asked, his eyes wide.
“Would you please just let her talk?” Aidena finally said, through clenched teeth. “This is not the time nor place for a leisurely discussion to catch up on childhood friends. We have something very important to do. There are people depending on us!”
“You’re right,” Kaya shook his head. “Please,” he gestured for Rhian to continue.
Inhaling deeply, Rhian spoke very carefully, as if she had memorized what she was going to say when she finally had Kaya in front of her. “My father is a monster,” she began, her features hardening as she spoke. “After he had you killed, he decided I would have no husband, because the only way he would be certain no grandchild of his was infected with the ability to do magic was to be the father of my children.”
Aidena marveled at the calm with which Rhian spoke of what had been done to her. Only someone who had either exacted revenged, or who had moved past the need for it could speak with such calm detachment, she decided. Either that, or she had buried her own feelings so deeply they could no l
onger touch her. She told of how she had been locked in her suite of rooms until he felt she was old enough to bear a child, then had her brought to him. Only when she did as she was told, was she allowed to see her mother – her mother who had been kept from her for years. She’d had three servants when she was a child, none of whom were hers to command. They did as her father commanded, and when they failed, she never saw them again. She had learned very young how cruel her father was by watching him execute one of her servants who had given her something she had asked for without his permission. It would have been easier for her, Aidena reflected, if Rhian had been more like her father than her mother, but she hadn’t been, and so she refused to bear the burden of having anyone else killed because of her. Obedience was something she learned. Even in her father’s bed.
She had learned a great deal about her mother during that time, once they had been reunited, including the reason she had never enjoyed the company of any brothers or sisters. Although she never said so, it was obvious her mother had been a magic maker too, because she made absolutely certain that even though she could not stop her husband from repeatedly raping their daughter, she could ensure Rhian never carried a child either. Here, Rhian spoke briefly of her mother’s obsessions with herb lore, and the great delight she took in teaching her daughter everything she knew. It wasn’t until after her death, however, that Rhian had learned from other sources that the ingredients her mother had put together to prevent her own pregnancies, as well as those of her daughter, were nothing more than a hodge podge of things made to seem as though they would work. It had been her mother’s magic, not the herbs, which had kept them both from bearing children.
