The Infinite
Page 16
The handwriting was unfamiliar, but Irra’s name was signed at the bottom. Strange that Miraya hadn’t written a response herself. There was only one sheet. Disappointment shot through me. What was Reev doing that he couldn’t even scrawl down a quick message to let me know that he was okay? Keeping in contact had always been a strict rule set by him, but now with half a continent between us, he didn’t even bother?
I have things I need to do here, Reev had said. Like talk to old sentinel friends in shadowy corners? I swallowed, uncomfortable with where my thoughts were leading me. Reev had nothing to do with those attacks.
I smoothed out the letter’s creases and pushed away the doubts as I focused on the neatly written words:
Kai—Miraya sends her apologies for not replying personally. She has been kept busy. There was another attack.
As to the mahjo and magic, we have a theory.
He had written something else and then scratched it out. Below the scribbled ink, he wrote:
Avan pointed out that your threat to return to Ninurta and demand answers in person was not an idle one, so I decided it would be prudent to explain our theory.
I smiled at the brief mention of Avan.
Although we stripped the mahjo of their magic after the war, magic never just disappears. All that raw, unleashed power had to go somewhere. Allowing it simply to soak into the world could have been as devastating as the war itself. Who knew what it would do or how it would manifest? So we created a container. We call it the sepulcher.
If Lanathrill’s mahjo have regained their magic, then it’s possible that something has happened to the sepulcher. It’s a troubling thought.
None of my hollows or the sentinels have regained magic. Their collars were designed to amplify the last traces of magic in their blood. I would know if their full powers returned. However, there is no way to tell from here if this is isolated to Lanathrill or if the reappearance of magic has spread elsewhere.
Kalla and I must return to our realms to verify the safety of the sepulcher. The sentinels will remain in Ninurta. Miraya needs them here. There are many who have already promised to serve her of their own free will. They will keep her safe.
As to the chimera, I will send for the hollows in Etu Gahl. They should arrive to assist you in two days.
I set down the letter. Help was coming. Relief seeped through me, and with it, the lull of sleep.
I crawled into bed and closed my eyes. No doubt Emryn had already been informed of Dennyl’s return, but letting him and the others know about the contents of Irra’s letter would have to wait until tomorrow.
Questions swirled in my head, battling my desire for sleep. This “sepulcher” had to be strong enough to contain the magic of every mahjo in the world. Could such a thing be broken?
And if it could break, what would happen to all that magic? Would all the living mahjo suddenly manifest powers or would the magic be released into the world as Irra had said and rain another cataclysm down on us?
I pushed my face into my pillow and told my brain to shut up so I could sleep.
But while the questions quieted, the disappointment remained. Reev hadn’t written to me. I was a little hurt that Avan hadn’t said anything, either. Clearly he had read my letter, or been informed of it.
Some nights, when I was half-asleep, and the world was soft and surreal, I would reach out over the bed, expecting to find Avan and twine our fingers together as we had during our time in Etu Gahl. But there was nothing, and the sudden reminder of his loss was like a fresh wave of grief that startled me awake, gasping for air.
Would Avan leave with Irra and Kalla? Irra had said that he was unlikely to come back, but what about Avan? He had nothing to hold him in Ninurta, except for me, and that was hardly enough. He’d been all but ready to move on when I’d seen him last.
I muffled a yawn with my pillow. I would see Avan again. I had to trust that he wouldn’t leave without saying good-bye.
The next morning, although I was still tired—and somewhat disappointed that I hadn’t dreamed of Avan again—I rose an hour before dawn. I brushed and braided my hair, changed into a gray tunic, tugged on my soft-soled boots, and made my way down to Emryn’s war room. I hadn’t been in this area of the citadel since I first arrived, but memory guided my feet to the familiar metal door.
I knocked first and waited a few seconds for a response. When none came, I tested the doorknob and was surprised to find that it wasn’t locked. I supposed no one would dare enter without permission. Lucky me. I felt a thrum of guilt, but not enough to turn back.
I slipped inside and shut the door behind me. The room looked the same as last time: desks and tables shoved against the walls with stacks of books, maps, and scrolls littering every available surface. The glimmer glass that dangled like a crystal chandelier from the ceiling illuminated the table at the center of the room. I moved in to get a closer look at the map that had been left open across the tabletop.
The map showed current landmarks and borders, although the cartographer had taken creative rein when constructing the lands beyond Lanathrill’s reach. The Outlands covered less area than it should have, and Ninurta was in entirely the wrong place. I focused on the parts of the map that had to be accurate.
Lanathrill was a large country, stretching halfway into the continent. The Kahl’s Mountain was at the western rim of what had once been the Leluna Range. North of Vethe was the Marrow Sea. I placed my finger on a river that bisected Lanathrill—a river we’d missed on our way here by probably half a day’s ride—and followed it eastward through the forest to where it emptied into a lake. A series of x’s had been marked in ink along Lanathrill’s eastern border. I wondered what they were meant to signify. Guard posts? Battles?
Peshtigo was much smaller in comparison. The country looked as if it had once been much larger, but the Void now swathed the land, marked on the map with dark black ink. A sketch of ruins had been drawn in the corner of land where the Void met the sea, labeled Westlin. If Peshtigo’s capital had been home to the Temple of Light, then it made sense that this would be where the Void originated.
The Temple of Light would have held the greatest population of mahjo in the world, and since it was also a school, it would have housed some of the most powerful mahjo as well. Alongside the Westlin Academy of Science, Peshtigo had all the makings of the kind of destructive power that had created the Void.
I was getting sidetracked. I brushed aside the map and shuffled through the other papers on the table. A skim of their contents revealed they were ration and inventory lists. There were some reports on local conflicts within Vethe and between farmers, but nothing related to Peshtigo.
I went from table to table, flipping through papers, unrolling scrolls, skimming the titles of books—none of them were about Peshtigo. I bit the inside of my cheeks as I scanned the room in frustration. A piece of metal flashed in the light from the glimmer glass.
My eyes fastened onto what looked like a handle peeking out from behind an unfurled map. I flipped up the corner of the map to reveal a drawer. I’d taken stock of the contents of the other desk drawers in the room, but they had contained only more of the same information on Lanathrill’s day-to-day procedures.
I tugged on the handle. Locked.
The only locked drawer in the room. I knelt and gave the handle another firm tug. The drawer didn’t budge. Drek.
With all the information about Lanathrill’s various assets lying strewn about the room for anyone to see, a locked drawer seemed rather conspicuous. I looked around, searching for something to pick the lock. I didn’t actually know how to pick a lock, but I might as well try.
I spotted a metal divider lying underneath some bound scrolls. I snatched it up and knelt in front of the drawer again. I inserted the sharp tip of the divider into the keyhole and wiggled it around, hoping to loosen something.
It didn’t work. I tossed the tool aside and glared at the lock. After everything I’d done since leaving Nin
urta, I wasn’t going to be defeated by a stupid little lock. I gave the handle another frustrated yank.
There was the sound of metal snapping, and then the drawer slid free. I froze.
I’d broken it. I wasn’t the smoothest of criminals, but that wasn’t exactly a bad thing, right?
I opened the drawer wider. More papers were stacked inside. I pulled them out, my fingers brushing off a smattering of soot that obscured the top page. It didn’t help. I couldn’t read it. The words were in a language I didn’t recognize from the history texts. Maybe this was old Lanathrillian.
A word caught my eye: gahl. I frowned. It was possible for the same words to exist from culture to culture, but a word from the language of the Infinite? I skimmed the paper for anything else that might be familiar, but there was nothing. If this wasn’t old Lanathrillian, then maybe there was a translation somewhere. I dug through the drawer, shuffling past papers.
A loud knock shattered the silence. I gasped, my body seizing tight.
“Your Eminence?”
I held my breath, staring at the door.
“I told you he’s not up yet,” said another voice, sounding put out.
The man who’d spoken first sighed loudly. “Well, if he’d call for us to dress him in the mornings, he’d be a lot easier to locate. He said he’d be here today.”
Their footsteps receded. I released my breath, my arms shaking. I was so not fit for this kind of thing. If Emryn was supposed to be in here this morning, then I couldn’t stay a moment longer. My fingers hesitated over the page of foreign script. I swore as I shoved it and the rest of the papers back inside. A broken lock wouldn’t necessarily arouse suspicion, especially if the lock had been old enough to snap so easily. But missing papers would definitely draw attention.
I listened at the door, straining to hear past the pounding in my ears. There was only silence on the other side. I cracked the door open. The hall was empty. I darted out, shut the door behind me, and then raced as quietly as I could back to my room.
Emryn would keep his secrets for a while longer.
CHAPTER 24
THE HOLLOWS ARRIVED the following evening. Since there were quite a few of them, they declined the offer to be placed inside the citadel, choosing instead to set up camp in the woods at the base of the mountain. Emryn, Mason, and I rode down to receive them. Some of them I recognized from my stay in Etu Gahl, but while they greeted me warmly, they swarmed Mason, carting him off to celebrate their reunion.
Mason looked so happy to be among them. I wondered if he would leave with them when this was over.
“We’re so glad you came,” I said, shaking hands with the designated leader of their army.
Jain was an older woman with graying hair and fine lines around her bright-gray eyes. Despite her age, her body was strong and wiry. All the hollows, regardless of their age, were in perfect health.
“Irra said you needed help, so we gathered up some volunteers,” she said. “Most of us have never been this far north. It’s been an adventure.”
I smiled gratefully. “Thank—”
Emryn grabbed my arm, jerking me back. I protested, gripping his wrist, but the look on his face made me reach for my torch blade and turn toward whatever had caught his attention.
A gargoyle was wandering through the camp, its head swinging from side to side as if taking in its new surroundings. I relaxed, releasing the handle of my torch blade.
“You brought gargoyles?” I said to Jain.
“We would have been fools not to,” she said. “If we’re fighting something similar, then we’ve got an advantage having our own giant lizards, don’t you think?”
“Those things fight for you?” Emryn looked bewildered.
“Someone get him back to the pen!” Jain shouted, laughing at Emryn’s reaction.
Several hollows jumped to obey, leading the gargoyle with firm pats on its head and offerings of food. Its frills trembled with what I could only describe as pleasure.
Emryn watched the gargoyle disappear behind the trees before that stoic expression he always wore snapped back into place. “How did you tame them?”
“We didn’t,” Jain said with a wink. Emryn gave her a blank look. “They’re our comrades, not our pets.”
He looked skeptical.
“Is Hina here?” I asked eagerly. She’d left Ninurta almost two months ago, homesick for her boyfriend and the fortress.
Jain shook her head. “She’s sorry she couldn’t make it, but she’s gone and gotten herself with child. She can’t be fighting giant beasts with a baby on the way.”
I gasped, slapping a delighted hand over my mouth. “That’s great!”
I hadn’t been sure if hollows and sentinels could have children, but now that seemed a silly assumption. They were mahjo, not sterile.
“First baby ever to be born in Etu Gahl,” she said. “That’ll be something.”
How would Irra feel about that? Etu Gahl was a fortress of age and decay.
My house is a place of forgotten things, he had said once.
Now, it would be more.
“They’ll be having a wedding once the baby’s born. She hopes you’ll join us.”
“Absolutely,” I said. “As soon as everything is settled in Ninurta.”
“How many have come?” Emryn asked, bringing the conversation back to the issue at hand.
“About a hundred,” Jain said. There were more than two hundred hollows in Etu Gahl, so it was heartening that nearly half had volunteered.
Emryn drew his shoulders back, his circlet glinting in the fading daylight. “That’s it?”
Jain was unmoved by his affront. “One of us is worth nearly ten of you. So if it makes you feel better, think of it as a thousand instead.”
“Plus gargoyles,” I added.
Jain smirked. “Plus gargoyles.”
Emryn looked as if he’d tasted something bitter. He wasn’t used to being treated with such irreverence, but the hollows and sentinels had more reason than most to distrust Kahls. At least he didn’t try speaking over her like he had at our first meeting. I had a feeling Jain would be a lot less civil in response.
Introductions aside, Emryn returned to the city while the rest of us had an early supper in the camp. We ate crusty bread that they’d brought from Rennard’s kitchen. Even though the food was a couple of days old, when I broke open the crust to pick at the chewy interior, the aroma of herbs made my stomach grumble. We dipped chunks of the bread into a thick vegetable stew. It was hearty and delicious and reminded me of many meals in the mess hall.
Afterward, Jain and I gathered in her tent, the largest in the camp, to go over the plan I’d already ironed out with Emryn.
“The nest is here,” I said, rotating the map I’d brought along. I pointed to a far corner of the Fields of Ishta. “Emryn’s farmers have a device they use to kill the rodents that live underground and eat their crops. He thinks it’ll work well enough to smoke out the chimera. The moment they emerge from their nest, your archers will pick off the ones they can.” I hesitated. “Please tell me you brought bows and arrows.”
Emryn had insisted arrows would be useless against the chimera with their thick, leathery hides, but the hollows’ arrows were different. The armory in Etu Gahl was stocked with so many weapons that I’d wondered if maybe the fortress wasn’t as securely hidden as it seemed to be, but I’d been particularly impressed with their arrows. They were longer and stronger than any I’d seen in the history texts. Certainly more lethal than the ones I’d seen here in Lanathrill.
Jain nodded. “Attacking out of range works best against giant razor-teethed lizards,” she said wryly. “We’ve learned how to capture gargoyles. Shouldn’t be too difficult with these chimera.”
“They’re a lot bigger,” I said.
“I know. On the way here, we ran across a few attacking a wagon. We killed them.”
That was good. They were now familiar with what to expect from the chimera.
“Understood. What about Kahl Emryn and his soldiers?”
“They’ll set up a perimeter inside the tree line. They’ll intercept any chimera trying to escape in the wrong direction.”
“Wrong direction?”
I pointed to a spot on the map. “We want to funnel them out of the Fields, west toward the hills that drop down into the Outlands. We have to let some of them go. If they’re as smart as the gargoyles, and we’re pretty sure they are, then they can communicate with one another. We need them all to know that entering Lanathrill is a death sentence.”
Jain looked impressed. “I’ll discuss this with the camp tonight. When are we planning the attack?”
“Day after tomorrow. I know you guys recover quickly, but I want to make sure everyone’s well rested.”
“Sounds good.”
Mason and the sentinels remained with the hollows for the night. While I wanted to do the same, it seemed more diplomatic to return to the citadel, so I rode back up the mountainside alone. Emryn met me at the entrance into the mountain and escorted me through the tunnel into the city.
The streets were nearly deserted at this time, most everyone having gone to bed for the night. It was strange not having daylight to track the hours of the day.
We traveled in comfortable silence. Once we neared the citadel’s gates, Emryn suddenly asked, “Why are they called hollows?”
I shrugged. A proper explanation would mean having to tell him about their collars, which was information Emryn didn’t need. Although he’d requested to see Irra’s letter yesterday morning when I informed him of Dennyl’s return, I’d refused and told him only about the hollows’ impending arrival. The less he knew, the better.