He murmured it, and through a haze saw her hold up the glowing emeralds and shout the command as though she’d been born to the use of shadow magic.
There came a fearful explosion of light and magic. It seemed to pick him up and fling him down. And then there was only darkness.
Chapter 19
Crouched beside an unconscious Shadrael, Lea tried to shake him awake. It was very dark here, save for the eerie green glow of her emeralds. Fastening them around her throat, she redoubled her efforts to rouse Shadrael.
A rumbling sound sent her to her feet. She stared, her fists clenched, her heart thudding wildly, unable to tell if the opening was going to reform and admit the Vindicants.
She heard the faint sound of voices and scratching, as though claws tore at rock. Swallowing hard, she sank down in a heap at Shadrael’s side, not daring to make a sound.
They were searching for her, she knew. The mysterious passages of between were infinite, yet Lea feared the priests could sense her presence and find her. At the moment they seemed very close. The spell barrier created by Shadrael in his last moments of consciousness was much too thin.
Then she saw a cloud, like black fog, pouring into the passageway. It flowed over her head, and along the ground. Afraid, Lea squeezed Shadrael’s hand, her heart racing as fast as her thoughts, while magic seethed and searched around her. Not until she realized that the black fingers of shadow were curling back from the light emitted by her emeralds did she understand why discovery had not come immediately.
Eventually the voices went away. The shadow flowed into the darkness and vanished, and in relief Lea buried her face in her hands.
But only for a moment. She dared not waste their temporary respite.
“Shadrael,” she whispered urgently, shaking his shoulder. “Please wake up. Shadrael!”
He stirred, moaning. Anxiously Lea pressed her fingers to his lips to silence him. After a moment his eyes dragged open. He stared at her awhile before his brows knotted.
“Told you to run while you could,” he murmured. His voice was very weak. “Warn the—”
“Hush,” she whispered. “I think they’ve gone away for the moment. Open the barrier and let us return to the physical world.”
His nose was bleeding, and more blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Lea anxiously searched for a wound, but did not find one.
“Where are you hurt?” she asked. “Can you sit up? Can you—”
“Listen,” he broke in, his voice a mere thread.
Lea heard the muted sound of voices coming back. Fear stabbed through her. “They’re still searching. We can’t stay here.”
“The barrier is too weak,” he murmured. “I’ll . . . hold them. Now go. Get to your brother.”
“How?” she cried.
“There are markers to guide you—”
“I don’t care,” she said impatiently. “I’m not leaving you.”
He frowned. “Must. My blood will confuse the demons. They can’t track you as well if I stay behind.”
Lea heard the scratching sound again. The air seemed suddenly hot and oppressive, making it hard to breathe. The black shadow came back, tendrils of it flowing here and there on a blind hunt for them.
Shrinking away from it, Lea took Shadrael’s arm and urged him up, hushing him desperately when he would have protested.
He leaned on her, his weight staggering her, his feet clumsy and slow.
Freeing her hand to grip the largest central emerald in her necklace, Lea aimed its light into the passage ahead. Patiently, urgently, she kept coaxing Shadrael along.
Time lost all meaning. They crept forward, eventually leaving the shadows behind. Now and then the light of her emeralds reflected in the eyes of creatures that watched them from the darkness, but nothing attacked them. Although the power in her necklace had restored much of Lea’s strength, she grew very tired. Yet as long as Shadrael, stumbling and obviously in pain, could keep going, she refused to rest.
And then the passage ended. She stopped, not comprehending at first that she’d reached a dead end. Putting out her hand, she touched neither dirt nor rock, yet a barrier closed their path. She lifted her gli-emeralds higher, hoping to see something, but even the light shining from her necklace was growing dim.
Alarmed, she asked, “What’s happening?”
“He’s found our Way,” Shadrael said hoarsely, dragging in an audible breath. “He’s trapped us.”
“Can you open the barrier and let us out?”
Shadrael closed his eyes and extended his hand, only to tremble and sink to his knees with a groan. Lea went down with him, trying to break his fall. The sound of his ragged breathing frightened her.
He lifted his gaze to hers briefly. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Tried . . .”
“Tell me the command. I shall open it as I—”
“No,” he gasped out. “Not the same.”
“But—”
Moaning, he sank onto his side, his face drawn and pale, and closed his eyes.
She shook him once, then harder. “Shadrael. Shadrael!”
The only sounds she heard were the eager scrabble of claws over rock and snuffling breaths.
Whirling around, Lea saw innumerable red eyes, small and evil, glowing at her.
A wheeled litter, its curtains closed, rolled along the sleeping streets of New Imperia. An escort of armed men went with it, quiet and watchful, alert for danger. Like many chariots and litters of the patrici abroad at night, its coat of arms had been covered to discourage thieves. On the opposite side of the city, several villas were alight with parties, but here in the temple quarter all lay quiet and dark.
The litter halted at the steps of the Penestrican temple, and the armed men swiftly dismounted. One of them glanced all around before scratching at the leather curtain.
“If you are ready to descend, Majesty,” he murmured.
Elandra, wearing a cloak and hood of magically woven Mahiran cloth to disguise her appearance, climbed down with her protector’s assistance. When her attendant, also disguised, would have followed her, Elandra bade the woman remain behind. She climbed the broad stone steps with only her Guards in her wake.
A Penestrican sister, robed in black, her head and arms bare, waited at the entrance beneath the portico. She was holding a fat white candle in her hand, its light casting but dim illumination on this moonless night. Although she bowed her head respectfully to Elandra, she glared sternly at the men.
“No male may pass this threshold,” she said.
They bridled at that, although they knew the strict canon of the sisterhood. Elandra’s protector, uneasy with the whole business, pulled forward a slender, elderly man.
Elandra smiled at the sister. “May I and my eunuch Rumasin enter?”
Frowning, the priestess moved aside. “The Magria has granted permission for this exception. Enter, and welcome.”
Still wearing the faint public smile she’d perfected, Elandra respectfully touched the octagonal-shaped bridjeti , emblem of protection to women, and walked through the open door of the temple. Rumasin followed her silently, touching nothing, his head slightly bowed as was correct.
The vestibule inside was lit by more candles, casting a soft golden haze against the shadows of the oval room. Floor tiles depicted a vivid mosaic of entwined serpents, and more serpents—symbol of the sisterhood—had been carved in relief on the stone lintels and wall moldings.
Their escort put down her candle, and said, “Your cloaks are not necessary here.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Elandra saw a shimmering blue haze of magic barring the doorway leading outside, where the Imperial Guards waited. She gave a nod, and Rumasin took her outer garments, folding them and his own neatly over one arm before the escort could take them.
The sister stared at him. “As you prefer. Come.”
The temple itself was newly completed, an edifice that was rather a triumph for the sisterhood so long persecuted under Kos
timon’s reign. Elandra was not herself a devotee of the Penestrican order, but they were invaluable allies that she took care to cultivate and respect.
Tonight, she had many favors to ask.
It was very hot within the actual temple. Elandra had worn her lightest summer gown, but within moments she found herself uncomfortably warm. The sand pit was deep and enormous, filling almost the entire sanctuary. At the far end, narrow stone steps rose to the Chair of Visions, its pale marble already stained with blood.
Averting her gaze, Elandra followed her guide through a passageway and into the service area of the temple. Although she could hear voices coming from somewhere and sounds of activity, she crossed paths with no one. They went down steps into what felt like a dungeon. Narrow cells, one after the other, empty of contents save for the most utilitarian bed and single folded blanket, each door standing open at precisely the same angle . . . quarters for the sisters.
Elandra remembered the terrible days before her marriage to Kostimon and her elevation to the highest lady in the land, when she’d lived in such a cell, temporarily blind and very afraid, tested in numerous ways. For all their wisdom, for all the good they accomplished, the Penestricans were harsh, sometimes merciless, and cruel. She shivered.
“Your cloak, Majesty?” Rumasin murmured.
Quickly she shook her head.
Their guide halted at the end of the dreary passage and gave Elandra an impassive look. “The Magria has asked me to say that this meeting will do neither of you good. It is her suggestion that you do not proceed.”
Rumasin stiffened, but Elandra checked him with a gesture. “I acknowledge the Magria’s concern, but I wish to see my sister. Please allow me to do so.”
As the priestess unlocked the door, Rumasin bowed to Elandra. “Majesty, is this safe? Are you protected sufficiently? The last time—”
“She has no powers of her own,” the Penestrican said sharply. “All the tricks given to her by the Maelites have been removed.”
Something in the way she spoke made Elandra frown. “I am ready.”
The priestess swept her hand over the door, removing the spell lock. “There is no danger,” she said. “The spell keeps her calm, nothing more.”
As she spoke she pushed open the stout door, her ring of keys rattling at her belt. “Bixia,” she said, speaking loudly and deliberately, “your guest is here. Sit up and remember your manners.”
Elandra entered the cell. It was brightly lit by candles high above them out of reach. Bixia, stark naked and fatter than before, her face smeared with dried food stains, her eyes dull, sat on her bed. Her blond hair, once so thick and bright, clung lank and uncombed to her skull.
For an instant Elandra was outraged at her condition, but then she noticed the robe lying torn on the floor and the food dishes smashed on the wall, and she calmed down. When they were growing up, her half sister’s tantrums were legendary. It seemed the sisterhood had not yet taught Bixia to control her temper.
Elandra looked at the priestess. “May we be alone?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Displeased, Elandra stepped closer to the bed. “Bixia? I’ve come to see you, to talk to you about what lies between us. Do you know me?”
Bixia stretched without any modesty and began sucking on the brittle ends of her hair. When Elandra reached out to pull the hair from her mouth, Bixia snapped at her like a dog, small white teeth just missing their mark.
Startled, Elandra jerked back and shot a glare at the priestess. “You said she’s not dangerous.”
“There is no danger of magic attacking you,” the Penestrican replied.
Bixia laughed.
Annoyed, Elandra regained her composure and turned her attention back to her half sister. “Bixia—”
“Go away!” Bixia’s face contorted with sudden temper. “I hate you! I hate you! You put me here! You gave me to them! I was supposed to be empress, not you! Never you! Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!”
Her screaming grew shrill as more vituperation and curses spilled from her mouth. Elandra retreated from the cell, and the priestess shut the door firmly. Locking it, she murmured a soft incantation that sent prickles through Elandra’s skin, and gradually the insults stopped. Bixia began to giggle instead.
The sound of that insane mirth was more horrifying to Elandra than the profanity. “Has she gone mad?”
The priestess nodded. “I will take you to the Magria now.”
“What,” Elandra asked when she was ushered into the Magria’s presence, greeted courteously, and served refreshment she felt too shaken to consume, “can be done for her?”
“Very little.” A young woman, coldly beautiful with blue eyes and a long curtain of straight blond hair falling down her back, Anas seated herself opposite to Elandra and gathered from a basket a tiny serpent as slender as her finger. Holding the reptile in one hand, she stroked its head while she regarded the empress in her cool way. “She was always unstable. Our work with her is unlikely to help her condition.”
Elandra frowned. She suspected the Magria was keeping something from her. “The emperor said you intend to punish her.”
Anas lowered her hand and the little snake slithered up her sleeve and vanished. “She still believes it is her destiny to be empress. The fact that she is here with us rather than in the palace is a considerable torment to her.”
“I think there’s more to it than that.”
“The Maelites have controlled her since childhood,” Anas said with a shrug. “Our removal of that control has rendered her simple. She remembers her hatred of you, but little else. Now that you’ve come, against my recommendation, you find yourself filled with pity for her. You wish to do her some kindness. What good will it achieve, Majesty? We feed her and house her. We keep her safe. If we release her, the Maelites will acquire her once more.”
“Surely they would not now use her to harm me—or my child,” Elandra said. “That approach has failed.”
“You remain vulnerable as long as you pity her.”
“What else should I feel?” Elandra retorted. “Should I despise her? Desire her death? She’s my sister.”
“The blood tie means nothing to her. She’s been conditioned to hate you, and she will always hate you. In that sense, she’s as a dog trained to attack.”
“But—”
“You wish there to be some bond, some vestige of affection between you. Desire for family is strong within you, but let it center on the family you and the emperor have created.” Anas gestured. “Especially the new life you carry now.”
Elandra drew a sharp breath of surprise. “I was not yet sure.”
“Be sure, Majesty. You will bear another child.” Anas almost smiled, and for a moment she seemed softer, and feminine. “Take joy in that, and let Bixia go.”
Elandra wanted to go on protesting, pleading for the Magria to find some way to restore Bixia into a person who could at least be content somewhere. “Will you keep trying?” she asked.
“Of course.” The smile on Anas’s face faded. “We are not finished with Bixia. As for your other request tonight, I must refuse it.”
“I haven’t asked it yet.”
“But you want news of Lady Lea, do you not?”
“Yes, oh yes! Can you cast another vision? Caelan said that before you could not see where she was, but at least—”
“When you requested this meeting, I knew you would want it done,” the Magria said, sounding a little weary. She pulled the snake from her hair and let it wrap itself around her wrist. Her gaze remained on the reptile, and her uncharacteristic hesitation made Elandra lean forward.
“You’ve discovered something,” she said sharply. “What is it? Magria, good or bad, what is it?”
“Nothing.” Anas raised her blue eyes to Elandra’s startled ones. “Nothing,” she repeated. “Three times did I try.”
Elandra frowned, feeling a chill sliding down her spine. “Please. I don’t understand.”
&nb
sp; “There is nothing to tell, nothing to see. I cannot find her at all. There is only darkness. The darkness of shadow.”
Within the Hidden Ways, the demons rushed at Lea in a snarling pack, only to flinch away from the green light shining around her. She held her necklace with both hands, trying to stay calm and center her quai, knowing that if she panicked she would likely be torn to pieces.
With all her strength she called to the higher spirits of the Choven, the chi’miquai, for help. There came a slight tremor in the ground as earth spirits came to her. Dust and bits of rock rained down on her from above; then the barrier blocking her path opened and she saw a cavern ahead of her.
It was lit by some means she could not discern, a tranquil pale illumination that reassured her. When she’d been a child, the earth spirits had guided her into such a cavern concealed among the ice caves and shown her marvelous wonders. In her adolescence, she had discovered sacred forest groves as well, and had been taught that the chi’miquai also had places in lakes and the sea. Unlike the element spirits, the chi’miquai were all-encompassing, everywhere and nowhere, seen and not seen. They often took the form of a Choven and would walk for a time in the world. That was one reason why all the People were so courteous to each other. One never knew when a chi’miquain would be inhabiting one of the People.
Although it looked just a few steps away, Lea knew the cavern of sanctuary was probably far from here, in another level of between than where Shadrael had brought them. Distance and time were not measured the same in the world of spirits as elsewhere. It did not matter. Here was their means of escape. Her fear fell away, and her quai steadied.
A figure appeared in the opening, shimmering and ethereal, hued in many striations of color like a rainbow. Hissing and whimpering, the demons retreated from Lea into the shadows.
The fragrance of flowers reached Lea’s nostrils, and she sensed only warmth and kindness ahead. It drew her as a bee to a flower. She had missed the special dwellings of the chi’miquai, where she’d been so happy as a little girl. How she’d yearned to return to them.
The Crown Page 20
