"Yes."
"Take it back where you found it," the shadow said. "It has no place here."
"Then why would she ask for it," Warden asked, his tone impatient. He snatched the bracelet from Leviana and tossed it to the ground between them. "If it's worthless, we have risked much for nothing."
"It is not worthless," the Queen said as she drew close to them from her throne. "In fact, it is worth a great deal. However, my beloved does not wish to see it." The Queen knelt down and picked up the bracelet with a sound like tinkling brass.
"Your beloved behaves like a horse's ass."
"I would not speak of him so," the Queen warned.
"He may speak of me anyway he desires, so long as he realizes his life within the bounds of the city is mine." The apparition looked from Leviana to Warden and back again without any change in its face, then it grew a grin full of pointed teeth. "You bring me something long lost. For that, I should thank you."
"As well you should."
"But it was lost for a reason. She should not have asked for it." It pulled the bracelet from the Queen's hands and tossed it up in the air where the shadows engulfed it and it did not hit the floor again. "Why are you here?" it asked.
"We brought the Queen what she asked for."
"What did you wish to trade?"
"Information. She knows more than she will tell of my circumstances."
The former queen turned to the woman standing nearby.
"She will help me," Leviana said.
"And if she cannot?"
"Then I have traveled far for nothing."
"Wait," Warden said. "I thought she was going to reveal our history to us, so that we could answer what it is about the darkness in me."
The Queen closed in on him and touched his face with a hand cold enough to burn. "You have darkness in you because you carry an extra soul. You are one of the cursed. He will consume you in due time. While you have choice, I would do whatever I could."
Warden flinched away from her touch after several long moments and then rubbed his offended face. A mild stubble had grown on his cheeks during their travels causing a scratching sound.
"Leviana," the apparition said. "You are one whose life is forfeit among your enemies and great enemies do you have. Your very empire plots against you."
"These things I know. I would know who."
"There is no answer here for that. You must seek your own counsel there."
"Thanks for nothing," Warden said. "We should leave."
"It is late. I offer you the hospitality of my house," the shadow said. "Remain with me for one night and take your leave in the morning with the light."
Leviana did not say that she saw little light while within the bounds of the city because it would do nothing at all. Instead, she ducked her head and said,
"We thank you for your hospitality. It has been a long day and we should certainly like to take our ease."
The shadow threw open the throne room door without moving and the vizier appeared.
"They are guests. Take them to their rooms and have the servants attend to them."
"Yes, Backaran."
"Backaran," he said once they were out in the hall. "The city itself?"
"Yes, you have spoken with the ancient city itself. The Queen is its consort and often its voice."
"Did you know that it would come?" he whispered.
"Silence in the halls," the vizier said. "You may speak once you are alone in your rooms. Until then, I ask for silence."
With an unpleasant expression, Warden fell silent. Leviana, wrapped in her own thoughts, cared little for what he might have said. She had spoken with the city before. Once. Long ago. It no longer mattered. It could do nothing for her but offer her a place of refuge for one more night. Then she would have to find her own way.
Ornate doors opened before them and the vizier ushered them in. The sumptuous rooms were done in shades of blue and black with splashes of emerald green. They passed through a sitting room and into a pair of bedrooms that faced one another.
"You will be sleeping here. You may take your ease. Food will be brought."
"Thank you," Warden said. His fascination had passed. For that, Leviana was thankful. Answering his questions was the last thing she wanted to do. He went into one of the rooms and shut the door. She went across the hall to the other and sat down in an overstuffed blue chair made with carved wood. Her head dropped to her hands.
What to do now?
She raised her head and stared at the door. Warden might not want to take her life, but others did. From one end of the empire to the other, she would be hunted. Undoubtedly, he would be as well, but did they stand a better chance together or separate? And what of Vadian?
That question froze her.
Vadian.
Warden had him captive within his spirit. She could not bring him forth, could she? That question tantalized her. Could she bring him forth and help him to take over the body he inhabited? How had she come to own the body of Jalcina of Sartol? The girl had hardly wanted to give up her life, but Leviana had won out and taken it. Her memory failed her as to how though. One moment she had stood with her beloved in the woman's palace, the next she stood beside him with a bloody dagger between them, a final sacrifice gasping its ending moments. The sight of blood washing away from her hands as she dressed for the dinner in their honor. It had been calming watching the tinted water spiral away. Then she had dressed to go to the death of her husband.
The betrayer wife had avoided her wrath by killing herself, but that had not spared her body from being displayed as a traitor. Once there had been a tradition of displaying the executed from the palace walls, hanging their bodies to rot before the entirety of the empire. That was no longer the case. They were supposed to be more civilized than that heathen practice. Perhaps she would bring it back for Kendrick and Versa when she returned to her throne.
Dark thoughts swirled in her mind and she did nothing to stop them. In her hands, she gathered power letting it spill over her fingertips and onto the floor where it glowed and sparkled.
Vadian would stand at her side if she chose to fight her way through to what was hers. Warden she couldn't expect that from. In short, he was a coward. Banishing the sparkles, she got up from her seat and walked the length of the room at a saunter. Vadian would never have stood for her to lose her place to begin with.
She conjured up images of his face as she had last seen it, avoiding those of his final moments. Handsome face, a touch of wisdom's gray to his hair, a physique worthy of a warrior. So much about him to admire. Her fingers traced his features in the air brushing pads over the bridge of his proud nose. She saw his eyes with the red and black of banked coals. They gave her shivers. Wrapping her arms around herself, she stopped close enough to the wall that she might kiss it. Pressing forward, she rested her forehead on the stone.
Would she sacrifice Warden to see her lover returned? Perhaps that was the central question. Without Warden, Vadian was dead. Without Vadian, she was dead. A terrible choice. Yet she would make it without hesitation. Her life with Vadian had been cut short not once, but twice. Now she had the chance to be with him again. All other things, even the empire, were not worth what that was to her.
Everything for the chance to be with her beloved once more.
No one entered any of the living cities without the awareness of the city itself. Their power over their territory was formidable, though not absolute.
After trying unsuccessfully to enter the cathedral, Kendrick moved through the city like a wraith. The inhabitants, ghosts of their former selves, made way for him wherever he went. Their malice toward him thickened the air. He had power. They had sought power. Now he was alive and they were not.
Kendrick was careful to touch little and eat nothing.
Nalcet made it clear to become a part of Backaran was folly. It ensnared those who sought power and consumed them.
He would not make that mistake.
It was his seco
nd time coming to the blighted cathedral where an execution seemed to always be just away from the steps when the vizier admitted him. While he had never been inside, he knew, immediately, he must tread lightly. While the city carried Backaran's awareness to every street corner and house within its realm, in the cathedral, his presence could and would kill. It reminded him of being in the house of five spires back home. While Nalcet could speak anywhere, he preferred to do business in his own house, a temple with five spires at the highest point of the valley. Following the vizier through the halls, he schooled his thoughts away from his home. If the city didn't know who he was or why was there, perhaps it would go better.
Nalcet and his brother, Backaran, were no longer friends.
Kendrick had never pressed for a reason why, but left it be. Whatever it was happened before he was ever born.
The throne room doors opened unbidden and Kendrick strode past the vizier who refused to enter. A combination of smoke and mist made everything indistinct and dreamy. At the edges of his vision, he saw, or perhaps felt he saw, things moving. To fight the urge for fear, he concentrated on the only person in the room. Seated above him, he wondered at her stillness. Perfect stillness. Not a breath. As if she were no longer alive.
Knowing what he knew, she probably wasn't.
Long moments stretched before him as he waited. The mist moved with exhalations he heard and saw but without a figure to tie them too.
"Will you speak?" he asked.
She moved, the tilt of her head acknowledging his presence. Her hair slipped from her shoulder with a musical sound.
A sudden strike knocked him to his knees.
The room turned hot and as he recovered, what had once been a man stood before him. He did not rise to his feet, but stayed kneeling. Reverence would not be misplaced.
"Forgotten, why do you come?"
The voice came not from the throne, but from the walls, battering him further.
Perhaps this had been a poor decision. Kendrick refused the fear. In this place, he was prey caught in a snare, but he was not without teeth.
"Answer."
Above them, the woman rose from her throne and began the journey down to the floor, every step accompanied by bell sounds and the scent of cinnamon. Kendrick transferred his attention to her for a moment schooling his tongue against the words which might well get him killed. His lineage was not lost on Backaran, so admitting it meant nothing, but to say he came about his Father's work might well be a reason for him to never leave.
Swallowing, he brought his gaze up to the figure's face. It was nothing but eyes, green globes glowing with power Kendrick only wished he could possess.
The strength of the cities may have been waning over the centuries, but it was still far more than mortals could hope for. Perhaps that was why they were always destined for destruction.
He studied his words too long and a buffet of wind knocked him sideways, sprawling to the floor.
"Forgotten, why do you come?"
The question came again with no loss of menace.
"I come seeking Leviana of the Burning Island, the once Immortal Queen. I know she is here."
The phantom breathing held the space inside the exchange offering Kendrick something to lay his attention on beyond the sense of capture.
The city's displeasure perfumed the air with ten day old rot and Kendrick gagged. The subtle music of the moving woman who had come to the floor, but not approached was the only sweetness left. Dropping his eyes, Kendrick attempted to mollify the monster.
"She is my guest. What is your business?"
The thought of killing her and taking the seal occurred to him and he squashed it, but not fast enough.
Anger and displeasure. Heat and rot. The mist around him tinged scarlet. Kendrick's fear caught in his throat. He was not powerless, but combat against a living city would be the death of him, and Backaran offered a fate worse than even that.
The phantoms crowded close, their breath increasing with hunger.
To be consumed and become one of them; Kendrick did what he could to steady himself.
Nalcet said Backaran had gone mad through feasting on those who dared approach in the early years of the cities. While the other cities had offered refuge, Backaran offered only death and slavery.
"Forgotten," the city addressed him. "Leave. Otherwise--"
Kendrick didn't need the elaboration. The stories were enough. The awareness of being watched like a chicken being selected for the dinner pot was enough.
Despite having spent years in the company of Nalcet, dealing with Backaran was different. While Nalcet felt companionable, Backaran exuded predatory. What else was he to expect from a creature who had devoured so many for its own sake?
"Why?" Kendrick asked even as he forced himself to his feet. The question may have been a folly, but it came anyway. "Why did you set this in motion?"
"It was time."
The doors boomed open and the figure turned from shadow to mist leaving him alone with the musical, but voiceless, woman. Kendrick studied her. She stared at him with an unreadable expression.
Was she a captive?
He hurried out of the throne room and almost into the arms of the vizier who waited to escort him away.
His plan had failed. Leviana could not be attacked while in the bounds of the city. Perhaps worse, he had tipped his father's hand to his brother, who now knew he moved to intercept the immortal before she could do any further damage. A costly, costly failure. And he would return empty handed to face Versa.
Kendrick grimaced.
Not bringing her along had proven a better idea than he initially thought.
The vizier put him out on the cathedral steps without a word and shut the door behind him with a boom of finality. Kendrick surveyed the darkened world before him.
Backaran would end him if he did not leave. The only one of the cities given to patience was Sinda and even the Rose City did not allow direct defiance. He stepped down the stairs noting the once more rot bloated corpse hanging from the gallows. Perhaps he might have spent a moment wondering why, except when he looked, he recognized his own face purple above the noose. He hurried on with his footsteps following him like a wraith through the soundless streets. Spirits brushed him leaving spiritual strings in tatters from him. Though his own spirit revolted, he did nothing to try and rid himself of those touches. Outside the city, they would disappear on their own.
Faces passed. He ignored them moving quickly but not running in spite the feeling of pursuit. Claws on stone rang close enough to make him wonder. Kendrick spun looking for the makers of the sound. On the street behind him, a large animal, not a wolf but no longer a dog, trotted at a distance. Around its muzzle, he saw streaks of gore. It barked, a thick, heavy, intimidating sound which spurred Kendrick onward.
He reached the archway and passed below the skull into the gorge where the very land cried out in pain. Taking a steadying breath, he looked back. Beneath the arch, a shadow stood with several of the dogs around it. It did not move, but Kendrick knew it watched and waited. Whatever it waited for, he did not intend to give it any satisfaction. He trudged away up the gorge. He had been gone from Arathum long enough. Time for a different plan.
Availing themselves of the city's offered hospitality did little. A few hours later, when food was brought, they came out of their rooms to the sitting room to eat. Delicacies awaited them on sculpted trays borne by servants who said not one word as they laid the trays down to be sampled.
"I suppose they must cook to feed the servants," Leviana said as she sat down. Warden stood across the table from her with a piece of fruit in his hand. He took a chunk out of it and shook his head.
"Do cities eat?"
"I doubt it."
"Then what's with all the food?"
"I don't know if the Queen still eats, she's a very strange creature." Leviana wrapped a piece of sliced meat into a tube and nibbled on the end. "She is far older than I am."
> "And you're old."
"Yes."
"Do you think she's immortal?"
"The city is immortal, for it is ancient, so perhaps she is."
"Is there anything older than Backaran?"
"Perhaps the gods."
"Do you believe in the gods?" Warden asked. "Certainly you might as well be one of them. You're nearly unkillable and old."
"I am not a god. I eat and I bleed, as you well know."
"How are we to know that the gods neither eat nor bleed?"
Leviana snapped the last of her meat in her mouth and refused to answer his question. What did the gods truly matter when it came to creatures like her? She would functionally live forever if she managed not to get herself killed. Once she brought back her beloved, then she could continue on with the path of conquest and truly one day rule the world. Warden must have read something on her face because he asked,
"Thinking of something good?"
"Perhaps."
The plates were white and blue with black trim with the motifs of copper butterflies on them. Leviana selected one and piled food on it before sitting down again. Warden seemed content to merely pick from tray to tray without touching the plates.
"Aren't you hungry?"
"Of course. And I'm eating. I'm just not sitting down."
"You always seem to be ready to take flight, even when there is food to be had."
"One should always be prepared to disappear if the need arises."
"You are a coward."
He shrugged but said nothing.
They ate together without saying another word and retired each to their own room. The trays would take care of themselves as far as they were concerned. A stillness associated with night fell upon the rooms and they slept.
Creeping from one room to another in her nightgown, Leviana moved on silent feet. She cracked the door open to Warden's room and stuck her head in. The room, a mirror of her own, had a few chairs settled together and the bed off to one side all alone. Warden was not in any of the chairs, so she reasoned he had to be in bed. She slipped inside and shut the door behind her.
In the bed, Warden dreamed. His eyes moved furtively behind his eyelids and his mouth opened in a gasp. Drawing close, Leviana watched him where he lay. With her fingertips, she brushed hair away from his face. Staring, she said,
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