by Ziv Gray
Not hesitating at the word of their prince, they moved forward. Fonbir gave Phen’s arm a final squeeze.
‘We will find him,’ he said.
Phen’s tongue was too weak to tell him what she truly feared. Instead, she gave a curt nod, and let the guards lead her away.
For as long as it took to get to the black chambers, Phen couldn’t tame the shake in her hands. When Bomsoi emerged, her face was dark. She reached for Phen, who fell forward under the weight of her despair.
‘What’s wrong?’ Bomsoi asked.
‘It’s Mantos,’ Phen replied, her voice trembling. ‘It’s Mantos!’
Unable to finish, unable to believe the words that were to come from her mouth, Phen said nothing more. Bomsoi’s apprentice appeared from the room. Phen’s heart fluttered. She swayed as the edges of her vision grew dim. Gentle hands ushered into the chamber and guided, placed on a chair as the world spun and spun.
Phen pressed her hands to her eyes until she saw stars. The room swirled. By the time her vision returned, there were three new sets of eyes upon her, none of which she recognised. One was a Linvarran female, scarred and scowling. One was a Metakalan male, wide-eyed and with an easy manner.
The other looked impossibly familiar.
‘What?’ she asked as she stared at the blue and purple face that looked like Bomsoi, but wasn’t. ‘Who are you?’
The female pulled back and looked at Bomsoi, who placed a hand on her shoulder.
‘This is one of my folk,’ she said. ‘She is Athoset, also called Emmy. I have sought her for a long time. She will help us with our task. Now, please. Tell me what has happened. Where is Mantos?’
‘I don’t know!’ Phen said, the words bursting from her mouth. ‘I went to his chambers, and he was gone. The window was open and… I think he climbed out. I think he has fled.’
For the first time, Bomsoi’s face paled. Releasing the other strange female, Bomsoi stepped back and closed her eyes. For a moment, she looked as old as the world.
‘We must find him,’ she said. ‘I need him. I need Mantos and Emmy.’
The female called Emmy flicked her eyes to the side, then turned to face Bomsoi.
‘Why do you need me?’ she asked. ‘And who is Mantos?’
‘Mantos is my son,’ Phen said, laying her hands flat on the table top, ‘and Bomsoi says that with his help—and yours—we can save my other son.’
She stopped short of saying the name, and found herself receiving stares from all around the room. The significance of her colours wouldn’t be lost on any of them. In this chamber, her gold and brown were as strange a sight as blue and purple.
The one called Emmy leaned towards her, staring with eyes that matched Bomsoi’s in colour and intensity.
‘Who is your other son?’ she asked.
Bomsoi swung the axe for her.
‘This is the former Empress Phen of House Yru, then House Tiboli. She was married to the Emperor Braslen of House Tiboli, and is now mother to the new emperor, Bandim.’
Silence descended. Worried faces transformed with scowls.
‘The Masvams,’ the scarred female said, jumping to her feet, ‘the folk who let the Valtat cross their borders, so they can capture innocents from other lands, like me!’
Phen’s gut twisted and she stood. The chair scraped behind her.
‘I knew nothing of that,’ she said. ‘I have been alone in oblivion for twenty cycles. I would never have allowed it!’
‘That means little to me,’ the female said, her voice low with resentment. ‘Your words will never bring my family back. They will never make up for the wasted decates of my life.’
The Metakalan male tugged on his companion’s sleeve.
‘Sit,’ he said. ‘Please, Charo. This is not the time’
The female—Charo—looked like she would bite back at him, but she didn’t. Instead, she threw herself onto one of the chairs.
Phen curled her talons into fists and tried to catch the female’s gaze. Charo looked everywhere but across the table.
‘I am sorry,’ Phen said. ‘I don’t know what my husband did when I was unaware, just as I do not know what my younger son does now at the helm of the empire. Just as I do not know what my older son does, since he has fled and left me!’
By the time she finished, her voice had tightened as though there was a noose around her neck. The Uloni female, Emmy, had the most compassionate eyes of all around the table. She wasn’t afraid to meet the Masvam empress’s gaze.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It sounds like you have lost much.’
‘I have,’ Phen said, wringing her hands in her lap. ‘I thought I had gained one of my sons back again, but he has left me. Oh, Mantos…’
There was little more she could say after that. Phen of House Yru had lost her husband but gained her sons.
Now, it seemed, she had lost them, too.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The Hand and the Heart
The Masvam, Phen, collapsed in on herself, withdrawing from the glares that pierced her to the bone. Emmy shifted, sympathy for the female pushing back her flaring hatred for the Masvams. She’s alone, Emmy thought, and to lose not only your husband and your sons, but twenty cycles of your life as well? By the goddess… I feel more than pity for her. The prince went to the weeping empress, pressing a strong hand to her bowed shoulders.
Bomsoi strode to the head of the table and sat, interlocking her talons. Emmy frowned.
‘Bomsoi,’ she said. ‘Tell me why you need us—this Mantos and I. What is it that you would have us do?’
Moving as if the weight of the world was upon her, Bomsoi leaned forward and pressed her lips together. They joined in a fine line. The skin went pale.
‘Athoset,’ she said at length, ‘there is much you can do. You simply do not know it yet.’
Remembering the battle and the strange magic she had wielded, Emmy nodded.
‘Will you teach me?’ she asked. ‘You and Rel?’
‘We can,’ Bomsoi said, casting a glance at her apprentice. ‘But there is more.’
Emmy leaned in. She was almost off her seat.
‘What is it?’
‘Athoset,’ Bomsoi began, the words rolling out slowly, ‘I told you of my true self. Now it is time to tell you what I need from you.’ She paused. ‘This is not an easy thing for me to say, but I will say it. Judge me as you will.’
Emmy swallowed.
‘Tell me,’ she said.
‘I was created by Nunako and Dorai,’ Bomsoi said. She waited as Phen’s incredulous ‘what?’ echoed around the room. ‘I was made for one purpose: to return their creations to the right path. To help them worship the goddesses again, and not turn their tails upon them. But… I failed.’ Bomsoi’s voice hitched. ‘As I told Mantos, I turned from my duty. I fled to the mountains and created my own folk. All I wanted was to live in isolation. I did not want to bear the burden my mothers had given me.’ Her breath shuddered. ‘In doing so, I let the spirits of Nunako and Dorai slip away, while I hid in my mountains with my beloved folk—the Uloni.’ She cast a glance at Emmy. ‘And I was happy. But the goddesses were not. And now, Bandim has summoned the spirit of Dorai into his body. He has imbibed divine power, a power he intends to use for destruction and death.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘A long time ago, my father, Aisen Lelg, wrote a book before he died: The Book of Divine Tears.’
Zecha sat forward, his eyes wide.
‘I’ve heard of that book,’ he said. ‘It’s a mystical thing, full of riddles and strangeness.’ One corner of his mouth rose in an incredulous smile. ‘But it was written longer ago than anyone could ever live.’
‘You must remember, youngling, that I am not mortal,’ Bomsoi said. ‘And yes, to some, the book may seem strange. But to my father, it was everything he knew would come to pass. He was pious. Pure. He was nothing special, just good. That was why he was given the egg from which I hatched. But he knew that I had turned from my path. He kne
w that nothing good would come of it. He had a vision about what he called the Lunar Awakening, and said that “when the moons lie equal and the sun is at its closest, if a True Believer of godly blood asks the goddess’s return, it will be granted”.’ She snorted. ‘I think he meant that to be me, but it wasn’t.’
‘Who was it, then?’ Emmy asked.
It seemed to take a monumental effort for Bomsoi to speak again.
‘There is another Uloni,’ Bomsoi said. ‘There must be. I have long heard of strange things in the Masvam Empire, of a priestess wielding near-divine powers, with the ability to conjure apparitions and return spirits from the dead. No matter how I looked, I never found them.’ She closed her eyes. ‘It would seem that Bandim has, and he has taken on the mantle of Dorai.’
Emmy sat back, allowing Bomsoi’s words to wash over her.
‘How?’ she asked. ‘How is that possible?’
‘Through me,’ she said, unfurling her talons. ‘My folk have the blood of the goddesses in them. This Uloni has become the Heart of Dorai, and Bandim the Hand.’
It all fell into place slowly, like pieces of a puzzle slotting together. Emmy drew her talons across the table, their sharp edges scratching the polished surface.
‘I need Mantos to become the Hand of Nunako,’ Bomsoi said. ‘And you? I need you to become the Heart.’
Emmy shuddered as though she was plunged into cold water. She scrambled around in her thoughts, thrashing and clawing, trying to make sense of the words.
‘Me?’ she asked. ‘Why me? Why not Rel?’
Rel ducked her head and when she turned her face upwards again, it was ashen.
‘I am not Athoset,’ Rel said. ‘I do not have enough Uloni blood within me. I am only half-Uloni. I do not have the power that you possess. I cannot be what Bomsoi needs.’
‘That is why I have searched for you for so long,’ Bomsoi said. ‘I knew my folk were not all gone, though the Masvams tried to eradicate them so long ago. You escaped, though you were nothing but a hatchling. I couldn’t find you, but I knew you were in the world somewhere. I willed a message through the spirits, and hoped it would reach whoever had taken you,’ she said. ‘And it did.’
‘Who was it?’ Charo asked. ‘Who?’
Emmy did not need to hear the answer. She knew already.
‘Krodge.’
She stood up from the table. Her heart grew cold.
The next thing she knew, she was gone.
CHAPTER FORTY
Go to Your Light
She was somewhere else. Somewhere far away. She couldn’t open her eyes.
She was falling once more, spinning and spinning through darkness and cold.
Then she wasn’t. She was sitting on the edge of a ramshackle bed. It was dark. There was not even a single moon’s light.
Emmy blinked, and familiarity rushing back. She was in a place that no longer existed. The apothecary! she thought. It was the same, yet different, like everything was at a slant. There was only whiteness outside the windows, no voices on the wind. Krodge is here, Emmy thought. I need to see her!
Emmy pounded up the stairway and threw Krodge’s bedroom door open without warning. The shutters were closed, the room dark. The old crone was sound asleep. Caring little, Emmy strode to the bed and grabbed the female’s collar, shaking her awake.
‘Wake up, Krodge,’ she hissed. ‘Wake up, now!’
The old female jolted awake and blinked, muttering and struggling to make out shapes in the darkness.
‘Who’s there?’ she spluttered. ‘What do you want?’
Never before had Emmy heard Krodge sound so terrified and frail. She thrust open the curtains, letting in the whiteness. When Krodge’s eyes met Emmy’s, she scowled.
‘You,’ Krodge spat. ‘How dare you disturb me?’ She stared with a snarl. ‘I hoped that in death, I would finally be rid of you. It seems that I was wrong.’
‘What do you know about where I came from?’ Emmy asked. She felt no spark of joy at seeing Krodge again. This was no happy reunion. ‘You made a point of telling me I was abandoned on your doorstep, but I know that is a lie. I want the truth.’ She lifted her chin. ‘Tell me of the Uloni.’
Krodge’s glare turned into a gape.
‘How do you know about them?’ Krodge asked.
‘What does it matter now?’ Emmy spat. ‘You’re dead! You can’t hurt me anymore. It doesn’t matter what secrets you kept. Tell me now.’
For the first time Emmy could recall, Krodge seemed to smile. She settled against her pillows and closed her eyes. Her arms loosened.
‘I hoped it was all lies,’ she said. Her voice was painfully weary. ‘Yet, there was something in my bones that told me it was not. And so I did not kill you.’ Krodge beckoned towards one of the many chests scattered across the floor. ‘You might as well sit down,’ she said. ‘What I have to tell might take a little time.’
Emmy sat down on the nearest box, setting aside the few books that were on its lid. She stared at Krodge. The old crone stared back, and for a time, no words were spoken.
‘Well?’ Emmy asked.
Krodge shook her head.
‘I suppose you’ve always wondered why in the name of the Dark I took you in, even though I had no affection for you.’
‘That’s why I’m asking my questions,’ Emmy said. ‘You didn’t love me.’
Krodge grunted and closed her eyes. With a sigh, she began her tale.
‘In my work as an apothecary, I travelled to source the best ingredients. In later life, I had my suppliers trained to bring what I needed because they knew I could pay a handsome price, but this was not always the case. In my youth, I followed stories and hearsay, trying to locate something special or unique. In the middle of Vhaun some twenty cycles ago, I travelled through the Great Northern Range. It was freezing, and the higher I climbed, the worse the snow became. However, I was determined to keep going. I had heard of a small colony of strange folk living in the mountains, who were living by some kind of ancient religion, and that they used several herbs and flowers that only grew on higher ground.
‘They called themselves the Uloni,’ Krodge continued. Her expression grew pained and she dropped her gaze. ‘How I wish I had never gone there.’
‘Why?’ Emmy asked.
‘I was followed,’ Krodge said, her voice heavy with guilt, ‘followed by Masvam mercenaries. They must have overheard me talking of my plans, and decided to follow me and find this ‘secret’ place. Do you know why no one knows of the Uloni?’ she asked. ‘Few folk have heard the legend for one very good reason,’ she continued with a thin groan. ‘Every single Uloni was killed by the raiders I led straight to them.’
She looked away again and, for the first time in her life, Emmy saw a tear slip down Krodge’s face.
‘Well,’ Krodge said, letting out a sharp, mirthless laugh, ‘nearly every single one. There were two survivors on that terrible day: myself and you.’
She looked at Emmy as if she were waiting for a comment, but Emmy kept her lips sealed. Krodge shook her head and continued.
‘I was in negotiations with the apothecary in the town to trade for some goods. The Uloni weren’t interested in money, but I had several books in my pack she was curious about. They loved learning new languages, and loved to read. They taught everyone to read, even those who lived as house servants.
‘We were in the middle of the deal when the prayer bell rang, and I cursed it. In their senseless religion, everything stopped when that bell tolled. I was ushered to the temple with everyone else.’
‘But then there was a fire,’ Emmy said.
Krodge raised an eyeridge and sat forward.
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but how could you know that?’
Emmy slid backwards on the trunk, grabbing its leather straps.
‘I just do,’ she said.
Krodge snorted.
‘Keep your secrets,’ she said. ‘Why do I care? I’m dead.’
‘How did yo
u survive?’ Emmy asked, ignoring Krodge’s derision. ‘Rel—my friend—told me everyone perished.’
Krodge ducked her head and for a moment, looked bashful.
‘I did not stay in the temple for prayers,’ she said. ‘I slipped out before the service began. Then…then the Masvams came, and there was nothing to be done. All I could do was hide and watch and listen as those poor creatures burned to death.’ Krodge shuddered. ‘It is a sound that plagued me all my life—and now, into my death.’
‘How did you find me?’ Emmy asked, sitting forward again. ‘How did you know I was alive?’
‘In my despair, I searched through the smoking rubble when the Masvams had gone. I thought if I found one survivor, perhaps my guilt would abate. And, as luck would have it, there was my survivor: a little hatchling.’ Krodge pinned Emmy with a hard stare. ‘You.’
‘I took you home, carried you through the mountains, south through the Masvam Empire and back to Metakala. Though, by the time I travelled all that way, my plan for salvation seemed more like a curse.’ She glowered. ‘I am not a mother,’ she said, ‘nor was I meant to be. But I made my choice and I couldn’t undo it, though I did resent it. I resented you.’
‘That was clear,’ Emmy said, her voice dry as sand. ‘If you hated me so much, why didn’t you toss me onto the street and leave me to starve?’
Krodge tapped her chin as though the thought had just occurred to her. That made Emmy’s neck bristle.
‘It had crossed my mind,’ Krodge said, ‘but before I could do so, I had a strange vision. Another Uloni—and yet also so much more than that—came to me in a dream, and said that if I kept the child safe, one day I would receive a great reward. And so I did.’ Krodge barked out a laugh and gestured around the barren room. ‘And this is it!’ she said. ‘This is my reward. My afterlife is to sit in this bed and stare at the walls for all eternity.’ She snorted and let her head fall. ‘It is no reward at all.’
Emmy stood as something Rel had told her came back once more.
‘Folk bring their own punishment. If you turn from path of goodness and do not turn back, you are turning from god. You stray, and are far from her light. And what could be a worse punishment than being far from your god?’
