Cinzia frowned. “Could she not just speak to me through you?”
Jane opened her mouth, but said nothing. Cinzia was about to ask if her sister was all right, when she noticed the silence. Trees rustling, birds taking flight, waves rolling and crashing against the rocks fifty rods below were sounds taken for granted, until suddenly they were gone, and a daunting, aching silence remained in their wake.
Looking around, Cinzia realized it was not just that they were silent; all movement around her had stopped. The trees were frozen; a few stubborn leaves hung in mid-fall. The sea below was still as a painting, white caps unmoving. She waved one hand through the grass that had scratched her legs; it moved with her hand, but did not return to its original position, instead remaining slightly bent over at an awkward angle. She breathed in the smell of the sea, the slow earthy decay of the quickly approaching winter.
“Hello, daughter.”
Cinzia turned to see Jane, her mouth no longer forming a wide, frozen O, but rather smiling at her in a way Cinzia had never seen Jane smile before.
Instinct drove Cinzia one step away from Jane, and she was suddenly very aware of the cliff face she had so callously stood on the precipice of only minutes before. “Jane?”
“Jane is still here, worry not. I have only… well, I have stopped time, as you can see. In stopping time, I have created a tiny space in Jane that I could occupy, for this one, brief millisecond. And, in this millisecond, we must have a conversation, you and I.”
“You are…?”
“Yes, Cinzia. I am Canta, the Goddess of the Sfaera.”
“You are speaking to me through Jane?”
“Yes, but I do not have much time. It was indeed me who spoke to you in the Void, and I am glad you did as I suggested. I am glad you rid yourself of the Daemon Luceraf, and are once again worthy to speak to me.”
“Once again worthy,” Cinzia repeated. Had she been worthy, once? If she had, why had the Goddess not spoken to her before?
“I know you have questions, Cinzia, but we must be brief. You have been blessed with that gemstone at your belt. My Heart, some people call it, but there are other names, more ancient than you or I. Either way, it is the key to the coming conflict. You can use that stone to banish the Nine from the Sfaera, Cinzia. If you use it correctly, in the exact way I tell you, you can even use it to destroy them, once and for all.”
Slowly, Cinzia reached for the pouch at her belt. “I could destroy them?”
“Do not touch it! Conserve its energy. Keep it away from your skin, or anyone else’s, until the time is right.”
Cinzia took another step back.
Why am I afraid of her? Cinzia wondered. She remembered the love she had felt from Canta, once upon a time on that rooftop in Izet.
What was wrong, here?
“How do I use the stone?” Cinzia finally asked, the words forming like a sunrise in her throat.
Jane’s weird smile grew broad.
“The day soon approaches where you will need to put this knowledge into action, Cinzia. There is not much time left at all. So please, listen carefully. The stone you hold is a dagger in the Void, imbued with my own life-force; it is one of the few items that can be seen or used in the Void at all, and when it is used there, its effects can be felt in the Sfaera, and beyond it. With this dagger—this stone—you can rid the Sfaera of the Nine Daemons.”
“This will banish them?” Cinzia asked.
“It will kill them, child, once and for all.”
“But why me?” Cinzia asked. “Who am I to do this thing?”
“There is no time to explain,” Canta said quickly. “Listen to me, Cinzia, and don’t forget any of this.”
Cinzia absorbed the information as best she could, beating back her wonder and awe and unease and confusion, trying to get to the point, the center, of what the Goddess in her sister’s form told her.
She could destroy the Nine Daemons.
* * *
Cinzia blinked, and the sounds returned, the motion returned, and she lurched to one side as her feet suddenly felt very unstable beneath her.
“We need to find an—Cinzia, goodness, are you all right? What is wrong with you?”
Cinzia found her balance. There was concern on Jane’s face—and that terrible smile was gone.
“Just a spot of vertigo,” Cinzia said, looking at the sea. Sure enough, the waves continued on their paths, the grass around her wove gently in the crisp breeze.
“We should get you off this cliff,” Jane said, her voice full with excitement. “I wonder if you will be able to translate tonight? Perhaps we can uncover something in the Codex that can clarify what to do with the stone.”
Cinzia knew exactly what to do with the stone.
“And if that does not work?” Cinzia asked, more to keep Jane talking than anything so she could organize her own thoughts.
“And if that does not work, we might have to look up this acumen of yours in the Denomination. Because I think our only option at that point will be getting you back into the Void.”
40
ASTRID WAS GLAD SHE did not mind the cold as she made it back to the Odenite camp, Knot at her side, an injured disciple in tow between them. Another disciple—Elessa—shivered beside them as they walked, pulling her cloak more tightly around her. The first snows would fall soon. The previous day had been sunny, but Astrid had a feeling in her bones it would be the last they would see for some time.
Cinzia rushed up to them as they approached. “Ocrestia! Is she…?”
“She’ll be fine,” Knot said.
“I can speak for myself, thank you very much,” Ocrestia said. “And he’s right,” she said with a sniff. “I’ll be fine.”
“What in the Sfaera happened?” Cinzia inspected the black-and-purple bruise that webbed out from Ocrestia’s left eye, and the accompanying wound on her cheek.
“You didn’t seem fine when that man hit you,” Astrid said. She turned back to Cinzia. “All she did was offer to heal a man’s family—they’re taken badly with the cough, so he said. And he just smacked her in the face! Knot stopped him.”
Cinzia’s face creased with concern. “Well, get something cold on it, and rest,” Cinzia told Ocrestia. “There’s some fresh water by our fire—clean the wound before you do anything else.”
The rest of the visitors to the city had reached the camp now, and Jane joined them. She wore a simple light-blue dress and a dark-blue cloak on her shoulders. Blue looked good on her; Astrid wondered why Jane did not wear it more often.
Two Prelates had also been injured in the altercation, and the Odenite group had been forced to move quickly out of the city before more Triahns ganged up on them.
“I think we must reconsider the benefits of going into the city, sister,” Cinzia said, when she heard that.
Jane, lips pursed, nodded reluctantly. “I think you may be right.”
“How could they have turned against us so quickly?” Ocrestia asked, nursing the wound on her head.
Cinzia frowned at the woman. “Didn’t I tell you to clean that wound? Go on, for your own sake! Plenty of rest and water for you. The last thing we need is you collapsing.”
Ocrestia grumbled something, but Elessa and Danica helped her off to find clean water.
When the three disciples were out of earshot, Astrid spoke. “Nobody’s said the most obvious thing.”
“But we’ve all considered it,” Jane said quietly. “Ocrestia is the only tiellan disciple, after all. Considering it was a tiellan army that attacked the Eye, we should not be surprised at the violence being directed at her.”
That was true enough. There were rumors of such things— tiellans being cornered, beaten, even killed, throughout the city. The disciples had even healed a few tiellans whose wounds looked nothing like those of the people injured in the Fall of the Eye. The Eye and the surrounding buildings had mostly been occupied by humans.
“There’s more to it than that,” Knot said.
Astrid glanced at him. “What’re you keeping from us, nomad?”
“Had a conversation with Code in the city today.”
Astrid looked at him out of the corner of her eye—an eye that was beginning to glow bright green now that the sun had set, but she paid it no mind, not even covering it with glamour. The Odenites knew who and what she was, by now. More or less, anyway. “When did you slip away for that?”
She’d hoped to draw a smirk out of him with that, or some kind of reaction, at least, but she got nothing. Knot had been completely stoic since the Fall of the Eye, and Astrid could not blame him. Not only for the shock of what had happened in Triah, but because of whatever had happened up on the cliffs as well. Knot had yet to talk to her about his encounter with Winter. Astrid imagined she’d have some apologizing to do— she hadn’t thought anyone could survive the collapse of the dome in Izet, but she hadn’t checked to be sure before she’d told Knot that Winter was dead.
“Rumors abound in the city about the Odenites,” Knot continued, ignoring Astrid. “Most of them connecting us to the Chaos Queen’s Rangers. Some people think we helped plan the attack.”
Cinzia gasped, and Jane grew pale. Astrid exhaled a puff of air, but she couldn’t say such news surprised her.
“But we helped heal people afterward,” Cinzia said. “How could they suspect us of planning it?”
“They think we’re in league with the Rangers, that we planned the attack so that we would have an excuse to demonstrate your ability to heal, and gain the favor of the people.”
“That is madness!”
“Canta told me she counseled against us healing people after the Fall,” Jane said. “She told me twice not to do it, but the third time I asked, she relented, and… this must have been why she forbade me from doing it.”
“But we did something good,” Cinzia said. “No matter what people think of it now, we helped people, Jane. Is that not good enough?”
“No,” Jane said. “I do not think it is. Canta has plans for us, here in Triah. And we may have set them back.”
Astrid snorted. “Can’t your Goddess just… fix it?”
Jane sighed. “Canta’s will shall come to pass, no matter the obstacles, no matter the human—or tiellan—interference. But we still have to overcome the immediate problem ourselves. We must discuss what to do about the tiellans, and about our apparent connection to them, at least in the minds of the Triahns.”
Astrid looked around them. “Might be best to do that in private, at least?”
Jane nodded. “Yes, you are right. Let us retire to our tent. We need to find a resolution for this problem as quickly as possible.”
* * *
The discussion lasted long into the night, with Elessa eventually joining them as well. The other disciples, exhausted from what healing they had been able to do that day, had retired to sleep.
It was just as well, Astrid figured. They needed to make a decision quickly, and the fewer disciples present to make that decision, the better. In her experience, if you got enough disciples together, they could take hours to decide whether to send one or two people out to fetch tea for the lot of them.
“Knot has already tried talking to Winter,” Cinzia said. “She would not see reason.”
Knot remained silent. While he’d said as much earlier, he didn’t seem to like the direction the conversation was going.
Astrid growled in frustration. “And at this point I doubt she will. But if we cut off the head of the snake…”
Jane, Cinzia, and Elessa stared at her. Knot looked away.
Of course he knew this was the only recourse.
“You mean… you want to assassinate her?” Cinzia asked slowly.
“It is the only option we have,” Astrid said, “if we want to end the problem the Rangers present for us. They’re putting a bad name on the tiellans, on a name we have worked so hard to protect. They—she, rather—killed thousands of people. She’s responsible for the persecution you face right now. Winter is unstable. She always has been. Think of Navone, of all the people killed and injured there. Think of the lies she told us, the destruction she’s wrought since she left Izet. This woman…” Astrid trailed off. She could not say any more; she knew the pain it caused Knot, and despite the fact that she was right, that Winter did deserve to die, she hated herself for proposing such a thing.
Cinzia’s response surprised Astrid. “Perhaps we should ask Ocrestia. As the only tiellan disciple, she would offer a perspective—”
“Ocrestia needs to heal, Cinzia,” Jane said. “And besides, as a disciple, her will is aligned with ours.”
Aligned with ours? What was Jane talking about? Cinzia and Jane were at odds all the time.
“Who are we to pronounce judgment on the Chaos Queen?” Elessa asked. “Is it not against Canta’s teachings? We should leave the judgment up to her.”
Cinzia shook her head slowly. “We cannot possibly be considering this. We know Winter. Or at least some of us do.”
If anyone would go along with this, Astrid thought, looking at Jane, it is you. As much as the Prophetess pretended to have some sort of moral code, to be inspired by Canta, the source of all morality for Oblivion’s sake, her morality seemed awfully malleable at times.
“I could do it,” Astrid said quietly. “I’d be the best candidate. I could slip through their camp at night, surprise her. She may be a powerful psimancer, but if I catch her by surprise, it will be over quickly.”
At least I would save Knot from having to kill Winter. He had once loved Winter—might still love her now.
Cinzia was still incredulous. “We cannot truly be considering this,” she said. “We cannot decide to kill someone just because they are making things difficult for us. This should not be news to any of you, but things have always been difficult for us. We have always seen our way through, overcoming every obstacle in our way.”
“Canta has always seen us through,” Jane said gently. “And Canta always provides a way.”
“If it is Canta’s will, then so be it,” Elessa said.
“Have all of you gone mad?” Cinzia asked. Astrid conveniently found the tent flap very interesting at that moment, not meeting her eyes.
“I’ll have no part in this,” Cinzia said. “And I cannot believe any of you would.” She swept out of the tent.
Elessa looked from Knot to Astrid, then excused herself quietly.
Jane remained for a moment. Astrid still felt the woman’s eyes on her.
“You two have a lot to talk about,” Jane said. “Knot, you are married to this woman. I know you still have feelings for her. You probably believe she can be saved. She cannot. I have seen it, Knot. Her continued existence will visit endless destruction upon the Sfaera.”
Knot’s face was hard, and he did not meet Jane’s eyes.
* * *
“I don’t think it’ll help to have the same argument again, nomad,” Astrid sighed, some hours later. She’d escaped their claustrophobic tent and Knot had found her sitting on a small boulder near the outskirts of the Odenite camp. “But don’t worry. I’m not going to kill her. Not while you don’t want me to. The Prophetess can go shove her face in a wasp’s nest, far as I’m concerned. You know Winter best; you know if this is really what needs to happen or not.”
With a jump, he lifted himself onto the boulder next to her. The sky above was starless, blanketed by nighttime clouds. A pale smudge on the horizon bespoke the moon’s position, but other than that the night was dark.
“It is,” Knot said, after an uncomfortable silence.
“It is what?”
Knot took a long, slow breath. “It is what needs to happen. You are right, Astrid.”
Astrid looked down, a heavy feeling growing in her gut.
“You’ve changed your mind, then?” He’d hardly been willing to engage with her at all on the subject, but he’d made it clear enough that he did not agree with the idea.
There was a part of he
r, she realized, that had wanted Knot to say no, to stop her from doing what she proposed. That had made her assassination idea seem safe. She wasn’t worried about killing Winter. The woman deserved it. She had meant everything she had said. Winter was a mass murderer.
She did worry, however, what it would do to Knot.
“It’s not that I want it to happen.” Knot hung his head, shaking it slowly. “I only just discovered she was alive.”
Astrid had the sense that something was wrong; the discomfort between them, the way Knot shook his head just now, something did not seem right.
“Are you all right, Knot?”
Knot’s face contorted in the darkness. “No,” he said, his voice gruff. “No, I’m not.”
Astrid edged closer to him. Of course something did not seem right; nothing seemed right.
She put an arm around him, resting her head on his arm. “I am so sorry,” she said. “Are you sure this is something you want me to do?”
“As sure as I can be,” Knot said, his voice barely a whisper.
“All right,” Astrid said. If Knot thought it would help, if he thought it was the right thing, she would trust him. That did not stop the heavy feeling in her gut increasing, swelling, until it seemed to fill her whole being with an immense weight.
“Do it tonight,” Knot said.
Astrid blinked, raising her head from his arm.
“Tonight?”
“The sooner the better. Get it done, Astrid. The sooner it’s done, the sooner we can…”
Heal? Move on? Deal with the next problem?
But Knot did not finish his sentence.
“Very well, nomad,” Astrid said, sliding down from the rock. She looked back at him hesitantly. He remained there, head hanging low, barely illuminated by the filtered moonlight. “I’ll see you when I see you.”
Then she swept off into the night, moving as quickly as her powers would allow.
* * *
Had anyone been around to see the aftermath of that conversation, this was what they would have seen:
A young girl, speeding through the forest, a dark streak with bright, glowing green eyes making her way to the Cliffs of Litori.
Chaos Queen--Fear the Stars (Chaos Queen 4) Page 38
