It was perfect.
“Go, little Faoii,” he whispered, watching his pale eyes reflect in the bronze of the dagger. “Go. I will wait.”
7
Kaiya sighed as she passed a rickety barn and another too-lean cow. She’d always assumed the people protected by the Faoii were happy and content, like those in Resting Oak, but the farther from the monastery she traveled, the more desolate her surroundings became. Many houses along her route had been abandoned or burned; many pastures lay fallow and barren. Had it always been this way, and she and the other Faoii had not noticed? Or was this the aftermath of the Croeli rampage they’d failed to protect the people from? She wasn’t sure which answer would upset her more.
A young girl carrying two buckets came around the corner of the barn and stopped when she saw Kaiya riding up the path. Kaiya nodded at her, but the girl did not move, did not even put down her load. Kaiya frowned and continued forward. She’d never met a person who did not bow their head, make the Sign for the Goddess with their hands, or at least offer a smile at her passing. But things had changed. Now, only three weeks after the fall of her monastery, the people only stared in awe or fear, and no one tried to hide their disbelief. Those that she tried to speak to ducked their heads and scurried away or made anti-curse signs in her direction. Somehow, even in so short a time, word had spread. The Faoii were dead, and the Croeli would not tolerate anyone who dared suggest otherwise. Kaiya was either an impostor or a ghost. Neither was welcome at most tables.
Three weeks. How could so much change so quickly? While Kaiya’s life had crashed and been rebuilt in an awkward, slanting shanty of partially forgotten ceremonies that didn’t mean anything in this new world, the rest of the world had simply . . . lived. There was no outcry, no rage. Most of the Croeli-occupied towns bore some sense of emptiness and sorrow, but even that was repressed and quickly forgotten as the townsfolk went on with their lives.
It hadn’t taken her long to start living like the fugitive she’d suddenly become. For the first time in her life, Kaiya had to hide that she was Faoii. She hid her breastplate and ivy helm beneath her cloak and begged for food along her route. When she could, she probed people in taverns for news of the Faoii downfall. More than once she heard a quiet whisper of “same whip, different tyrant,” but had to hide her fury at the words. How could anyone consider the Faoii and the Croeli similar?
Days passed. The sun still rose and fell as it always had. Birds still sang and cocks still crowed, but to Kaiya it all sounded muted and dull. The rolling hills that spread before the capital lost their splendor in the dark world she had wrapped around herself like a frosted, comfortless cloak. Even her horse had caught the air and plodded on with gloomy determination over the final rise of their journey.
In the valley below, Clearwall sprawled on its glittering dais. Even in the early morning, the city had begun to come alive as a thousand firefly-like torches dotted the valley with splatters of golden light that shone like jewels. Nestled in the rocky cliffs overlooking the Starlight River, Clearwall’s mighty castle cast its unwavering gaze over the town. The palace’s white marble walls glistened in a glowing array of orange and gold.
“Kai, look at the sunrise. Have you ever seen so many colors in one place before? Isn’t it gorgeous?”
A laugh and a light smack on a red head. “Where were you raised, Mollie? Underground? You’ve never seen a sunrise before?”
A thoughtful quiet before an equally thoughtful reply. “No. I’ve seen many sunrises. But I’ve never seen this sunrise. And it is the most beautiful because it’s alive right now. It is more than just memory and thought. It . . . is.”
A casual shrug. “If you say so. It looks like any other sunrise to me.”
Kaiya sighed and brought her hanging head to sit solidly atop squared shoulders, fixing a stern gaze into place. Her horse perked its head up too, and with a feigned air of the invincibility and pride that Kaiya no longer felt, they made their way to the city gates.
I wish I’d listened to you more, Mollie. I wish a lot of things.
*~*
Kaiya fretted with the idea of keeping herself hidden in Clearwall, but she’d only been here for an hour and she was already hopelessly lost. There wasn’t enough time to waste in the maze that was the outer city, and if anyone would still welcome a Faoii, it would be King Lucius Clearwall III and his subjects. Clearwall had always respected the Order, which is why she’d come here for help. She would be safe here. For the first time in weeks, Kaiya lowered her cowl.
The city did not follow any sort of grid or pattern. The streets were curved and twisted, sometimes wide enough that six horses could walk abreast without the riders brushing thighs, and sometimes so narrow that Kaiya’s boots scuffed against the long-worn walls that loomed around her. She had heard whispers that the streets of the outer city had been designed this way in order to dissuade invading armies, but she had no way to verify that. Still, there must have been some method to the insanity that was the outer city, because men and women shuffled through the streets, scurrying to their destinations without looking up.
Kaiya refrained from biting her lip, a childish sign of worry that she’d convinced Preoii-Aleena she’d grown out of. Faoii do not show such weakness. But she could not completely banish her uncertainty. Like everyone else she had passed since leaving Ray and Astrid’s home, these people did not even try to acknowledge her presence. There was no sign of Croeli influence, but still she went unhailed. How was it possible? Could word of her monastery’s massacre have reached this far already? Why hadn’t Lucius done anything in retaliation?
Kai tried to take a steadying breath against the uncertainty but wrinkled her nose at the inhale. The air was odd here. Not with the disconcerting strangeness that she had experienced in Resting Oak, but something subtler. Everything in Clearwall was too chaotic, too fast-paced. The curved, jagged streets broke up the magic that would usually form around such an emotional and bustling city, so there was an unnerving lack of magic in the air. Normally you could feel the Eternal Weave more clearly as more people who were tied to it gathered in one spot. But despite the throngs of people, there was nothing. Have these people grown up surrounded by this . . . void?
Kaiya was pulled from her thoughts as an armored man turned onto the street she was navigating. He walked purposefully toward her, and Kaiya brought her gelding to a stop, the reigns held loosely in one hand. The stranger’s sabatons rang on the cobblestones, and the sound echoed for a moment even after he had stopped in front of Kaiya.
“Madam Warrior, King Lucius Clearwall III requests your presence.” Kaiya raised an eyebrow and looked down at the soldier. Her own face stared back from his shiny helm, awkward and oblong in its reflection. It surprised and pleased her that the king was already on the lookout for Faoii, even this soon after the monastery’s fall. Maybe there was hope for help here after all.
“All right,” she replied, nodding to the soldier, “but I will need to stable my horse.”
“We will take care of it. Follow me.” Without waiting for a reply, the soldier turned on his heel and started forward. Kaiya had her horse follow, watching in surprised awe as people parted before them without raising their eyes. They’d barely moved through the throng when another armored guard stepped from the crowd to join the first. A little further and a third man, young and without a helmet, joined the march. Kaiya frowned.
“I didn’t expect an armed escort. Am I being arrested?” The words came out more sullen than intended.
“Only criminals are arrested. If we have no reason to imprison you, we will not.” Kaiya frowned. It was not a no.
“I’m sure, Fa—” the young soldier began before clamping his mouth shut at a sharp glare from his superior. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I am sure, Lady, that our honorable king will treat you as expected.” Kaiya peered down at the newest escort through her ivy helm, careful not to turn her head or draw attention from the other guards that now made
her more uneasy than relieved. The man was light for a soldier, his jet-black hair tied back away from his face. But he held himself with the strength of someone who knew his sword. Kaiya studied his face for a long minute.
“You’re hiding something.” Her whisper was low and carried softly, and she spoke out of the corner of her mouth so that the other guards could not see or hear. “I don’t read deceit in your face so much as . . . implication.” For a moment, the Sight showed fear and a hint of regret in his features, and his steel-grey eyes darted to the other two soldiers who accompanied them. He relaxed when they showed no sign of having heard and gave one jerky nod.
“You know that I am Faoii.” Kaiya felt the air strengthen at the word. The man might have felt it too, because he stiffened marginally. “Will anyone else recognize me as I am?” The soldier squared his shoulders and didn’t respond. Confusion colored his eyes. She tried again. “Will anyone else affirm the Faoii Order?” The head jerked once to the left, then to the right. No. Kaiya pondered for a moment. “Can I trust the king?” The guard’s shoulder flicked. The tiniest of shrugs. Kaiya again refrained from biting her lip.
Finally, she continued, “Soldier, do you still honor the Faoii and Illindria, the Great Goddess?”
The nod was immediate and sharp. The movement caught the attention of the man on Kaiya’s right, and he turned to study the young soldier as they marched on. The boy used his shoulder to scratch his right ear, and the other man lost interest. Kaiya repressed a grin.
“You’re quick,” she finally whispered after a few minutes. “What’s your name?”
Another minute passed, and Kaiya thought that the soldier wasn’t going to respond, but suddenly there was an obnoxious clatter that caused several people nearby to jump in surprise.
The other two guards swung around and Kaiya stopped her gelding, watching the soldier try to gather his fallen sword belt and coin purse while still gripping his shield with one hand. Small gold coins rolled through the street, and people flocked to retrieve them.
“Harkins! Damn it, boy, didn’t anyone ever teach you how to dress yourself?” The original guard roared with indignation, his cheeks purple with rage. Harkins said nothing as he buckled his belt on again before falling into step next to the gelding. They continued in a silence that was only occasionally interrupted by the senior guard’s angry mumbles.
The road continued along its twisted route, and Kaiya realized with dismay that she had been so focused on talking to Harkins without the others knowing that she hadn’t been paying attention to where they were going. They were nearing the end of the valley now, and the walls of the inner city rose ahead of them, built directly into the cliffs that supported the ever-regal Clearwall Keep. It was both glorious and imposing. Kaiya studied the high turrets and alabaster walls of the building, awed by the stained glass and stone gargoyles. This was different than her monastery. Faoii buildings were made to incorporate the outside world in their construction. Archways and pillars curved like tree branches, and decorations were green with living things. The great keep she was approaching now was not one of the Goddess’s organic-inspired structures, yet it was no less impressive.
They arrived, and Kaiya dismounted, handing her reigns to an expectant guard that led the gelding away without a word. Harkins held open the great metal door as his superior led Kaiya inside with a pompous air of authority. Kaiya matched his pace, her booted heels ringing on a mosaic floor.
The palace was as grand on the inside as it was on the outside, and Kaiya almost faltered in her step. Rich tapestries hung from white stone walls, coats of arms etched in gold thread gleaming from the woven fabric. Lighted chandeliers with real glass encasings hung above them, casting blue and purple shadows on the floor tiles before the grand alabaster staircase that dominated the entranceway.
Kaiya stared for a moment at all the glittering sights the palace had to offer before stopping and narrowing her eyes. Silently, she scrutinized one of the stained-glass windows next to the door.
“This isn’t defensible at all,” she muttered, stroking one dark hand against the polished wooden table beneath the window. Hadn’t her history books praised Clearwall for its stalwart defenses? They never said anything about floor-to-ceiling windows of easily-shattered glass.
Kaiya turned away from the window, suddenly unsure. Would Clearwall be safe from the Croeli threat? She could sense the old fortress—the keep that had been built of rock and desperation and had repelled swarms of enemies over its lifetime—still lay somewhere beneath the glistening white walls and reflective tiles. But this was not the fort that had housed generations of noblemen and saved countless peasants during grand wars. This building was a boy wearing his father’s finery.
They’ll do the same to the monastery, too, someday. They’ll rebuild what you burnt down, but they won’t know how. The Faoii will just be painted pictures in storybooks when you’re gone.
Suddenly angry, Kaiya turned to the stairs with an impatient stride. She couldn’t let that happen. She needed to see the king. She needed to stop the Croeli. She needed to give the world a reason to remember her Order.
She needed the Faoii to endure.
The stairs brought Kaiya and her guards to a soft-carpeted hallway that ended at a broad wooden door. The older guard removed Kaiya’s sword belt with a practiced ease while Harkins held the door ajar. He stood completely straight as Kaiya passed, and she took the opportunity to study his expression.
There was fear there.
“Who have you brought to me, General?” The booming voice almost made Kaiya jump, and she turned away from the frightened Harkins in order to face the king.
King Lucius Clearwall III had once been a strong and comely man. He still had a strong chin and imposing features, but his black beard was streaked with grey and his dark eyes peered from behind deepening crow’s feet. His shoulders were still broad and straight, but his middle had thickened and his arms had softened during the years that he had wielded a quill rather than a sword. Kaiya knew the man had once been a fierce and stalwart hero, part of the family of nobles that had been guarding Clearwall for more than twelve generations. It was because of his lineage that the city had gone from being a handful of homesteads to the sprawling jewel that was now the nation’s capital. King Lucius looked down his nose at Kaiya as he waited for the soldier’s reply.
“Your majesty.” The guard bowed. “I have brought a woman dressed similarly to the recent traitors to the crown, milord. As instructed, we have kept a lookout for any suspicious figures in the city.” He pushed Kaiya forward, apparently trying to make her stumble. She did not, but instead took a sturdy step toward the throne. She looked up at the king on his raised dais, framed by the high vaulted ceilings and story-tall windows of the throne room . . . and froze.
For a moment, Kaiya stood awkwardly, not sure of what to do. Faoii bowed to no one. She had not been taught the correct way for a Faoii to address a king.
Finally, Kaiya fisted her hands in front of her and bowed her head. Her words came smoother than she expected.
“Your Majesty, I am Faoii-Kaiya of the Monastery of the Eternal Blade. I’m sorry that you see me as a potential traitor. I was not aware that your people and mine were at odds.” The king looked her up and down carefully.
“Eternal Blade? The Illindrian monastery to the north? To look at you, I would have expected you to say you were from the south. Most of our northern brethren are of fair complexion.” He stroked his greying beard thoughtfully. “You have traveled quite far, young lady. I trust all is well with your kind?” Kaiya was put off by his failure to use her title but said nothing.
“No, sir.” See? I don’t have to use titles either. “Our temple was attacked, and I am the only survivor. The nearby town of Resting Oak has been taken over by vicious men, and the Goddess has been pushed out of the cities between here and the northern sea. Even the people here in the—” she stopped, recognizing something in King Lucius’s eyes. His face remained
completely still, a look of rapt attention, surprise, and slight concern on his features, but it was . . . false. Behind his eyes and in the curve of his lips there was . . . deception, pride, and a sly joy. Mollie had always been better at using the Sight than Kaiya was, but Kai knew enough.
The king was false-facing.
Kaiya didn’t know what to do. She had come here looking for an ally against the Croeli and had only found another ruin. No wonder she had felt no hint of the Goddess’s presence here. It had nothing to do with the twists and turns of the city breaking up the flow of magic. Illindria had been forced out of this city by the Croeli long ago. And now Kaiya had fallen into their trap.
Kaiya shivered as ghostly replays of Lucius declaring fealty to Thinir suddenly superimposed themselves upon the throne room, unseen by everyone except her. Images of his grisly deeds and orders to execute other Faoii who’d come to the capitol made her stomach churn. She barely heard him beneath the white-hot ringing in her ears.
“Continue your story, girl. I am listening.”
“You mean that you find it entertaining.” Kaiya kept her hands from shaking in rage as she spoke through clenched teeth. “You already know what I’m going to say. It’s a story you’ve heard a dozen times, and yet you haven’t gotten tired of it. Have you, Croeli?” A piercing, heart-wrenching rage made her insides scream and her fingers clench. She could not keep her eyes from filling with tears as she continued in icy tones. “You’ve known. And you did nothing to stop it.”
The Last Faoii Page 5
