by Davis Ashura
“But if we do run into any mahavans, do we have to kill them?” Daniel asked, obviously unsettled at the prospect.
“The short answer is ‘yes’,” Mr. Zeus said with a grimace of distaste. “I don’t like it, but if we want to rescue William and Jake, it might come to that. There can be no witnesses to spread the alarm.” He met each of their gazes, probably wanting to impress the gravity of the situation on them.
Rukh whispered something to Jessira, who responded with a whisper of her own. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and he shook his head, his face growing pale.
“Is that going to be a problem?” Mr. Zeus asked.
“Not for us,” Jessira answered. “We know what’s required.”
“Good. Because if you can’t do what’s needed, then you shouldn’t come.”
“We understand duty,” Rukh replied in his oddly accented voice. He could have been Indian, but he didn’t have the accent of someone from the subcontinent. Nor did he speak like a midwestern American. He and Jessira had an intonation all their own.
“Good,” Mr. Zeus said, giving him a last, hard look before eyeing the others. “Our first stop will be Vijayawada, India. Remember, you’ll be disoriented, but give it a few seconds, and it’ll pass. After Vijayawada, we’ll travel on to a saha’asra near Frankfurt, West Germany. Then comes the longest part of our journey, a car ride to Gdansk, Poland. Once there, we’ll go straight to the Faroe Islands.”
“The people of these other places speak different languages?” Rukh asked. “How will we communicate with them?”
“I’m sure Mr. Zeus has a magic spell up his sleeve to solve that problem,” Jessira said in her confident contralto.
“I prefer knowing in advance the various aspects of our plan,” Rukh said. He offered her a half-smile. “You know how I am.”
“All too well,” Jessira said with a faint smile of her own.
Jason shook his head. Those two always sounded as if they were carrying on a private conversation, one that only they understood. It was uncanny and weird.
Daniel and Julius must have felt the same. They gave Jason perplexed shrugs.
“It’s been taken care of,” Mr. Zeus answered Rukh’s question. “We’ll have no trouble communicating with the people we come across, not even in the Faroes. They speak a Germanic language there with a Norwegian accent.” He looked about. “Any other questions?”
They shook their heads.
“Then it’s time,” Mr. Zeus said.
Jason felt his grandfather source his lorethasra, a rustling of leaves and the scent of brine. A line of sulfurous Fire rippled across Mr. Zeus’ chest—a sight and smell only an asrasin could sense—and he triggered the anchor line. A black line slit the world and rotated on its long axis. It became a doorway filled with chaotic colors and patterns. The ringing of a bell heralded the doorway opening out onto a rainbow bridge extending into infinity.
“Tether to it,” Mr. Zeus ordered. “Jason, bring Rukh across. I’ll take care of Jessira.”
“No need,” Rukh said. “We’ve already learned how to tether to an anchor line. Lien taught us.”
“She did?” Mr. Zeus shrugged. “Good. Then let’s go.”
Sinskrill
* * *
Selene loved the long bicycle ride from the Servitor’s Palace to the docks of Village Bliss where Serena had her dhow berthed.
Serena.
Selene still thrilled at the notion of referring to Madam by her first name, as though they truly were sisters, though she was only a drone. But Serena had confirmed and claimed the kinship a few weeks ago in William’s presence.
Hearing the words, a number of things Selene noticed over the years finally made sense. She remembered Serena from long ago, when Selene had been younger. She also remembered a beautiful woman with a warm smile and loving arms. Their birth mother.
In those memories a younger Serena stood out—every bit as loving as their mother—and she’d promised to protect and save her. From what, Selene wasn’t entirely sure, but she trusted Madam—no, her sister. Serena had been her truest friend all her life, and if she said Selene needed protection and saving, then it must be true. Her sister didn’t lie.
As Selene approached Village Bliss’ dock, her bicycle rattled on the uneven flagstones forming the twisting path, and she heard voices from around the final corner. They spoke in hushed tones, and Selene slowed her bicycle to a halt before hopping off. Bushes lined the stone walkway leading to the pier, and she hid behind a clump of them. Sunlight dappled the ground and glistened upon the glimpses of water she could see through the leaves and branches.
Selene eased forward, her feet squishing in the perpetually wet ground of Sinskrill. Two men spoke, and she strained to hear their conversation. One voice she didn’t know, and the other belonged to William.
Selene liked him. He reminded her of Serena, kind and warm. Up to a point, she even trusted him.
Selene fingered the locket her sister had given her, the one with the picture of William and his family in it—at least she figured it was his family. She kept the charm with her always, hidden away in her smock, daring to stare at the photo only in the privacy of her small room. By now, she’d memorized every line on every person’s face, the play of light on their hair, and most of all the love in their eyes as they stood with arms around one another. The locket and the photo were precious to Selene. It showed her a better world than Sinskrill.
“Hold on, Jake,” William said. “Let me get this plank in place.”
Jake Ridley then. The other raha’asra.
Selene crouched lower and crawled forward to better hear the two men.
“How much longer will it take?” Jake asked.
“I don’t know,” William answered. “Probably another few weeks.”
“Then what’s she plan on doing?”
Selene frowned. Were they talking about Serena?
“Sail it, I guess. She’ll probably keep it close to shore and not risk the deeper waters until she’s sure it’s seaworthy.”
It was Serena.
“You think she’ll christen it first?” Jake asked.
“If you haven’t noticed, these people aren’t exactly Christian,” William said, his voice sounding wry.
Jake laughed, open and friendly like William’s. “I meant like breaking a bottle over the bow.”
“How would I know?” William replied, sounding exasperated. “I never asked her, but maybe Selene could tell us. What do you think, Selene?” William called out to her.
Selene slowly rose from her hiding place, a knot of fear tightening her gut. William had always been nice, and while eavesdropping wasn’t a sin on Sinskrill, getting caught at it was. They might beat her for doing so at their expense.
Selene slowly approached the two raha’asras, head low as she tried to keep her knees from shaking. She swallowed heavily before meeting William’s gaze.
Some of her fear unclenched when he smiled at her, still warm and inviting.
“Who’s this?” Jake asked, his voice friendly and curious.
Selene’s fear diminished further, replaced by confusion. Neither of the raha’asras appeared the slightest bit annoyed at her.
“Selene,” William replied, in answer to Jake’s question. “Serena’s little sister.”
“So you’re the reason,” Jake said,
Reason for what? Selene wondered.
Jake opened his mouth, on the verge of saying more, but a sharp headshake from William must have changed his mind. “She looks like her,” Jake said instead, and he held out a hand. “My name’s Jake. We haven’t been introduced.”
Selene took Jake’s hand, and they gravely shook. She still couldn’t understand why they weren’t angry with her. It made no sense. They made no sense.
Jake squatted, lowering himself until they were almost eye-to-eye. “What’s got you so spooked?” he asked. “We aren’t that scary-looking, are we?” He glanced at William. “Well, one of us is, I gues
s,” he added with a grin.
“It’s because we caught her eavesdropping,” William said. “You’re afraid we’re going to punish you, aren’t you?”
Selene nodded, staring at the ground again and unable to meet their eyes. Her fear surged.
Jake put a finger under her chin and tilted her head up. “It’s all right. Just don’t do it again.”
“I won’t,” she promised in a whisper.
“Are you sorry for eavesdropping on us?” Jake pressed.
Selene vigorously nodded her head.
“Then you have to say it.”
“I’m sorry.” She looked Jake in the eyes. “I won’t do it again.”
Jake smiled, and the sun seemed to come out. “That’s a good girl. Now, where I come from, once two people say sorry and forgive each other, they hug it out.”
Selene frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s like this.” Jake enveloped her in his arms, pulling her close and holding her.
Selene stiffened, but his arms were loose. She could break away anytime she wanted. He pulled her closer, and without thinking about it, Selene threw her arms around his neck and held him. She even rested her head on his shoulder. It felt like . . . only Serena had ever held her like this or made her feel so safe. Selene wanted to stay here forever.
“Well, isn’t this an interesting sight,” a voice noted in a dry, amused tone.
Selene stiffened.
Fiona.
She spun around to face the old raha’asra, sensing Jake straightening up.
Fiona smiled at Selene. “Don’t worry, girl. I won’t tell anyone what you were doing.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” Jake said.
“Dawdling while on a mahavan’s business isn’t exactly nothing, is it, girl?” Fiona said.
William paced toward the old raha’asra, and Selene gasped. Never before had she sensed menace from William, but this time she could feel danger pouring off him like a fire. Violence simmered in the air, and Selene backed away from William until she ran into Jake. She looked up at him, and he laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“If any word of dawdling reaches anyone’s ears, I’ll break you,” William vowed.
Selene remained pressed against Jake and stared at William in horrified fascination. It was like seeing one of the fat rabbits they kept in the kennels suddenly grow fangs.
Fiona held her ground, and Selene found herself impressed by the old raha’asra’s courage. She would have fled if William glared at her like that.
“You mistake me,” Fiona said, making a gesture.
Selene’s ears popped.
“She’s young, and accommodations can be made, but not for something like hugs when you aren’t her family and she’s uninjured. Then it’s considered weakness, and you place her at risk.”
William’s anger slipped. “You aren’t threatening her?”
“You know I’m not,” Fiona replied. “You know why I never would.”
The last of William’s anger melted away, and he relaxed. “I’ll never understand this island.”
“Which is good, because the moment you do, that’s when it has you and you become a part of it.” Fiona held William’s gaze, and he eventually nodded.
“Let this be a lesson,” Fiona advised. “You have to be aware of where you are at all times and, just as importantly, who’s around you.”
Serena stood upon the cliffs near Village Paradiso while waiting for Brandon, Evelyn, and Isha. She had called them here, to a secluded, sloping finger of grass amidst a forest of trees, for a discussion about their futures. It was a necessary ruse, and she considered what she should say to them. They couldn’t know the depths of her feelings for Selene or Fiona, and they certainly couldn’t know her true plans with regards to the dhow. Nor could they know about the abomination of an unformed as the Servitor.
Serena chewed her cheek while she studied the steep descent from the clifftop to the narrow, tumultuous waters of Suborn Strait hundreds of feet below. Spiny rocks jutted like fangs and made passage of the channel treacherous.
On the far side of the strait an evening fog cloaked the island of Amethyst. Serena could barely make out Village Fealty, which stood in a valley where low-shouldered mountains formed a bowl. The buildings looked like broken teeth, abandoned and ruined like the rest of the island. A pine forest grew down the slopes of the hills and covered the fields that had once fed those who’d lived on Amethyst. Otherwise, signs of human habitation were absent. Fealty had been abandoned centuries ago.
Nowadays, the island’s only inhabitants were grizzlies, elk, deer, and the occasional rabbit. Sometimes, though, the bears swam across the Suborn Strait and entered Sinskrill, usually near Village Bliss, where the island’s eastern escarpment flattened into a series of gentle hills. It was the most easily accessible point by which to approach Sinskrill. Invariably, the creatures became a menace, and mahavans would be dispatched to hunt them down. It happened several times a year, almost always in the autumn.
Serena considered the bears while she waited for Brandon, Evelyn, and Isha. It had been a week since the discovery of her father’s true nature, and she had yet to discuss the matter with anyone. After all, no one would believe her, and no one would be foolish enough to challenge the Servitor on the matter.
“Why are we meeting here?” Brandon called out, surprising her with his presence.
Her distracted thoughts and the booming surf had hidden his approach.
Despite Brandon’s thick build, he moved easily and a smile split his bearded features. Evelyn accompanied him, short and slight next to him, and they marched up the short rise to where Serena awaited them. A mineral-iron smell told Serena that Brandon had sourced his lorethasra. He gestured, a wave of his hand, and out shot clear pulses of Air smelling of ice. They spread around the three of them and formed a block.
Serena’s ears popped. “How goes recruitment amongst the younger mahavans?” she asked Brandon.
“Support grows. Your only challenger for the role of Prime is Park Alawah, the Isha to your own Isha.”
Serena smiled faintly. “Once an Isha, always an Isha,” she said, quoting the old proverb.
“Be that as it may,” Evelyn began, “Many think Park is too old for the post.”
“How many think I’m too young?” Serena asked. “I was only recently elevated to my position as a mahavan.”
“Now you seek both citizenship and Primeship within a year of achieving your new status,” Brandon replied.
Serena saw Isha break from the tree line, and she paused, waiting on him. She briefed him on their conversation thus far.
“Citizenship and Primeship can be yours,” Isha told Serena, “but only if you’re bold enough to claim the prize. Your best option is to convince Park to step aside. Even better if we can force him.”
“How?” Evelyn demanded. “Park has many allies. It’s said that he failed the Chair itself by only a few seconds. Had he been able to remain seated for a little longer, he might have become the Servitor.”
Evelyn’s words provided no new insight, and Serena instead focused on Isha’s advice.
“Nor is Park a fool,” Brandon said. “He lost out on the Primeship of Paradiso when he had to attend to his bishan’s pilgrimage. He wasn’t present when it became available, and he’s probably done nothing but plan for every eventuality since then, in case another Primeship comes open.”
Serena silently agreed with Brandon’s assessment while still trying to understand Isha’s counsel. A moment later she smiled at her mentor with unfeigned admiration. Once an Isha always an Isha, indeed. “Park’s bishan died during his pilgrimage,” she said, “and shortly thereafter, a posthumous decision granted him the status of mahavan. It happened years ago, but as far as I know, Park never completed his year of mourning.”
Brandon immediately saw the opening, and he laughed. “He can’t serve if he’s in mourning while away in the Far Abroad.”
Is
ha’s eyes twinkled in apparent pleasure. “A simple solution, no? He steps aside or we send him off the island.” He turned to Brandon and Evelyn. “Arrange a meeting with Park so we can go over the issue,” he told them. “I have other matters to discuss with Serena.”
The others left, and Serena raised a questioning brow. Isha complied, forming another block.
“What did you really wish to talk about?” he asked.
“The Servitor. I saw something when I met with him a week ago.”
“What did you see?”
“An unformed,” Serena replied. She explained what she’d witnessed in Lord Shet’s Hall.
“Have you told anyone else?”
Serena shook her head.
“Good. Keep it that way.”
Serena frowned, suspicion forming at Isha’s lack of reaction. “You already knew.”
“Only recently,” Isha said. “When I became your father’s Secondus. He elevated me shortly after Sherlock’s death. He’ll make the formal declaration in the next few days, and if I outlive him I will ascend to the Chair.”
Serena gaped. “You’d become the new Servitor. But what about those other Seconduses who were thrown from the Judging Line? They failed the Servitor in some way and were punished for their failure. You’ve placed yourself at great risk.”
“Only the bold can claim the prize,” Isha repeated. “But I think I’ll succeed where those others did not. They never knew the Servitor’s secret. I do.”
“You think it means the Servitor trusts you where he didn’t trust the others.”
Isha nodded. “The Servitor showed me a book. In it were secrets known only to the Servitor and his Secondus. His true heir. Those others were not.”
“Meaning you’re assured ascension to the Servitor’s Chair.”
Isha shrugged. “Not quite assured. The Chair rarely chooses someone other than the appointed Secondus.” He moved to stand at the cliff’s edge and stared out across the strait to Amethyst Island. “Mahavans once numbered in the thousands,” he said, his voice solemn and sad. “The southern villages were the size of small cities, and four more villages populated the northern coasts of Sinskrill proper.” He pointed. “Then there’s Fealty across the water. Do you never wonder what happened to it?”
