Apocalypto (Omnibus Edition)

by L. K. Rigel

  Mal felt dizzy. Edmund. Garrick. Gerhold. Her shoulder. The daggers. Jarlvidar . Her life was all spinning out of control.

  “Mallory, we have to go.” Edmund turned toward the door.

  “Not that way.” Gerhold waved his hands, motioning for them to follow him to the forge’s darkest recess. He pulled aside a curtain that covered a great hole in the wall. “I haven’t worked in a dungeon for twenty-three years without devising my own hiding places and escapes.”

  While Gerhold lit two torches, Edmund opened his leather bag and pulled out a gridcom tablet unlike any Mal had seen, brass and silver with colored lights. “Another product of the vault.” He regarded Gerhold. “I’d prefer Red City didn’t know about this.”

  “Red City is trouble enough with what it does know.”

  The honorable manly-man bonding was kind of sweet.

  Edmund demonstrated the tablet. “We’ve tapped into some old world technology, a satellite array still functional on a solar net. Through this, Allel has its own com network, unmonitored by the Concords or Red City.” He punched in orders for Captain Serna to prepare to get out to sea.

  “The tunnel ends at the boardwalk.” Gerhold handed them the torches. “You’ll know where you are.”

  For the first ten minutes or so, they were silent, but Mal couldn’t turn off all the questions racing through her mind. “Why would you tell me you’ve tapped into a satellite array? Why do you trust me with all the things I know about Allel?”

  “I don’t know, truth be told. But I do trust you. Why do you tell me a goddess has imprinted your totem and told you the most powerful Samaeli priest is half human?”

  “I guess I trust you too. At least you didn’t tell me I was crazy.”

  “No crazier than the rest of the world.” There was kindness and irony in his laugh. They were in a cold, dark, spiderweb-filled tunnel under Red City, evading an unknown murderer, but his tone said everything was going to be all right. “What’s it like, being in the presence of a god?”

  “I’ve never felt fear – except, you know, your basic fear-of-a-god-type fear. But now – “

  “Never. You mean you’ve seen her before?”

  “A few times. At first, I wondered if I had imagined it. Then later it was just, I don’t know, something interesting that happened.”

  “Something interesting.” The jewels in his hair reflected the torchlight as he shook his head. “Passing time with a god.”

  “I know in my bones she doesn’t mean me harm. But she doesn’t know what mortality is. She wants her holy fires, and she wants Samael to pay attention to her instead of to us.”

  “Right now, I’m more concerned about Garrick than the whims of the gods.”

  The tunnel ended close to the boardwalk, near the gangway to the Golden Wasp. It was night, but the ship’s lights were enough to travel by. Mal doused the torches in the water and laid them inside the tunnel where Gerhold could find them. Edmund pulled the Empani cloths out of the bag and handed one to her.

  “You were wonderful today, my lord. I want you to know I appreciate this.”

  “I will never let Garrick hurt you.” His voice was raspy. For a moment, she believed he cared for her, and not just the future prince she carried for his city. Mallory. It’s you, not just your service. It’s you.

  They put on the cloths, and Nin suddenly appeared. “Oh, please. I can’t stand any more of this stuff.” She fingered the cloth around her neck. “I’ve been with you the whole time. I told you these things were dangerous.”

  On board the Golden Wasp, Nin and Mal waited in Edmund’s quarters while he went to inform Captain Serna of their arrival. “I’m glad you know everything, Nin”

  “Can I see the totem?”

  “Sure.” Now that she was over the shock of it, she was beginning to like the tattoo. A lot. It was exactly like the firebirds on her dagger hilts. That reminded her: the remaining blue amber. “Nin, could you do one more thing for me? There’s a wooden box under a blanket in my bedroom window seat. Keep it safe till I get back?”

  “Absolutely. This is amazing, Mal. No human could do such work. The mark of a goddess.” She smiled mischievously. “I’m sure you’ll have no problems completing the ceremony once you’re out on the ocean.”

  “Completing?”

  “I checked when we were in the tunnel – I had to do something to keep from eavesdropping. There’s no soul in the oven, Mal.”

  Mal sank into a chair, and told Nin about breaking quarantine. “What am I going to do?”

  “I thought you looked a bit large. How much time have you got?”

  “Six weeks, tops.”

  “You’d better get busy then.”

  “Ninshubur, we’re about to pull away.” Edmund had returned. “You should go ashore, unless you’re in the mood for a vacation.”

  Nin stopped in the middle of putting on the Lily cloth. “About that special gridcom tablet you were going to leave with Mal. I think you should give it to me instead so we can stay in contact.”

  Genius. Edmund fished the second tablet out of his bag.

  They stayed at sea for three weeks, purposely taking side trips and making a slow time of it. Edmund communicated with Jannes and Counselor on the Allel network. If he received any alarming reports, he didn’t share them. On nights with no wind, instead of getting up the steam, they let the ship drift and slept on deck, watching the progression of the constellations.

  At the captain’s table one night, Captain Serna offered Mal stout for the toasts. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I would never hurt King Harold’s feelings, but he isn’t here, so I have to say I think stout is gross.”

  She could almost pretend everything was normal. Pretend there had never been any contract with Garrick. She was Mallory of Red City, about to complete her second contract with the third all but signed. Then she’d catch her reflection and think of the firebird on her shoulder, and a kick to her bladder from Allel’s future prince reminded her that time was running out. Edmund was keeping her at sea for her safety, but she needed to get to Allel to find out if Saskia had learned anything that might help with the soul.

  She and Edmund slept together every night, either on deck or in the swinging hammock below. She often found herself snuggling under his arm. She could sleep like that forever. But what she liked best was waking up with him.

  On the last night, she couldn’t sleep at all. The moonlight through the stern gallery windows was unusually bright. For a while she watched Edmund sleep. She wanted him so bad, it was driving her crazy. It wasn’t only her desperation to get a soul, but also the sheer need to merge into Edmund, into the safety of him, to lose all her worries in him.

  But he assumed they had brought in the soul, which meant no sex allowed.

  Another thing. She was a month further along than Edmund thought. She was trained to control her labor, but she couldn’t hold it off indefinitely. What if she had to deliver before she achieved ensoulment?

  She climbed out of the hammock and watched the moonlight on the water. I don’t want to be a princess. Or a breeder. Palada and Palama – whatever their real names – were probably the happiest people she’d ever known, now that she thought about it. Jannes and Counselor would be too, if they could be together.

  But the world wouldn’t let them. It was better to be settlement trash and be with someone you loved than to be the Princess of Intrigue and Politics and Obligation. Her mother must have known that when she ran away to the wild with her commoner husband.

  I had a mother and a father. They lived. They were real. They loved each other.

  “Are you crying?” Edmund sat up in the hammock.

  “Only a little. Hormones, you know.” She couldn’t tell him about the missing soul, and she certainly couldn’t tell him about her feelings for him. He’d be disgusted. And tomorrow, in the light of day, she would be too. Or should be.

  “We’re going to transfer to the Happy Drone.” He got out of the hammock. “It�
��s just a precaution, and kind of a pain, but I’d rather be safe.”

  They dressed in warm clothes and went aboard the captain’s yacht, piloted by Captain Serna’s first officer. He made for a shore landing north of the Lighthouse Inn while the Golden Wasp turned toward the Bay of Allel.

  From the Happy Drone they took the jolly boat to shore. The crew gave them fireless torches, another product of the vault, to light their way. Edmund held out his hand to help her over the jagged rocks up to the path. In normal times, she’d scoff at the gesture. Didn’t people realize chalices actually worked out to stay in shape? But things weren’t normal, and she accepted his arm with gratitude.

  “My lord!” Jannes called out above them. His sure voice was an instant tonic. From then on, it was easy going to the stables at the Lighthouse Inn and then through a tunnel much more pleasant than Gerhold’s spidery passage.

  When the lift opened on the floor that housed the royal apartments, Celia was waiting for them in the corridor. The dragon tattoo on her left shoulder was unchanged, but it meant so much more now. Celia’s totem. Counselor’s pride in her dagger was pride in her link to Celia. It was the symbol of Counselor’s place in the world’s web of relationships.

  It made Garrick’s possession of his sister’s dagger an abomination. Upon the sister’s death, the blade should have been broken and the pieces returned to her breeder.

  Mal understood the words now.

  How could Celia, or any of her counselors, bear it?

  Civilization’s totems and symbols meant something. The firebird had meaning. The firebird daggers would bind her to her female offspring and bind them to whatever was to come in the wake of that symbol. Asherah had given the mark to them all.

  They were all actors in a play the gods watched, and none of them could escape their roles.

  Edmund scanned the hall. “Where is Counselor?”

  “She’s gone down to the harbor,” Celia’s face was as pale as her hair. “There’s been an explosion on the Golden Wasp.”

  The Golden Wasp

  It was impossible to sleep. For hours, Mal and Saskia watched the rescue efforts amid massive flames far out on the bay. With night vision, the telescopic slides in their shades easily picked up activity illuminated by the searchlights. The rescue teams fished a good number of the crew from the water, but out of more than two hundred, how many were already lost?

  At one point, Edmund and Jannes emerged from the flames, carrying Captain Serna. They got him into a tiny boat that dashed away from the wreck toward the docks. No one was rowing, and it was impossibly small for a steam engine.

  Tesla was everywhere.

  Mal slept for a few hours. When she woke, the morning fog had already burned off. The Golden Wasp was unrecognizable, a listing carcass that gave off dwindling blows of smoke. She had promised to stay in her apartment until Edmund decided it was safe, but waiting to hear something, anything, was driving her crazy.

  Saskia came through the front door with a tray balanced on her head. The Days were with her, but one of them closed the door behind Saskia and they stayed out in the hall.

  “They’re on guard duty.” Saskia put the tray on the coffee table. “I made this myself. I hope you appreciate the lengths I’ve gone to, ensuring you’re not poisoned.”

  “Chamomile tea and burned rye toast?”

  “No one appreciates the sacrifices I make.” She plopped down on the sofa. “You didn’t mention the chocolate. Ack!” She jumped right back up again and pulled a leather bag out from under her.

  “Excellent. I forgot about Edmund’s bag.” Mal pulled out the secure compad. “Let’s contact Nin and see if she’s found out anything about the soul.” She had told Saskia everything. The upside to being vulnerable was finding out who you could trust.

  Though the line was secure, they coded their messages just in case. Badly.

  N/RC: Nothing so far. You?

  M/A: No clue. Saskia either.

  N/RC: Are you sure big bang before?

  M/A: Very big bang.

  N/RC: After BB, where/who *exactly* did you go/see before you left Allel?

  M/A: Well . . .

  N/RC: Are you kidding me? Tell all.

  M/A: Walked down Citizens Way. Crone at Horus tent (Kim not there) gave me cloth. Went to bog.

  N/RC: And you didn’t give me?

  M/A: Sorry.

  N/RC: M bog?

  M/A: Same.

  N/RC: Did little bang happen in m bog?

  M/A: Um. . .

  N/RC: Did it? (you slut) Important.

  M/A: I thought it was Edmund.

  N/RC: Have brilliant idea. Must consult. Back to you later. Must go now.

  The message window went dark. Mal turned off the tablet and let out a sigh. It felt so good, she inhaled again as deeply as she could and let the air out slowly.

  “Watch this.” Her stomach distended to the right with a slight indentation on the left. How could he be so active without a soul?

  Saskia rolled her eyes at the gymnastics going on in Mal’s abdomen. “Did Nin mean she would consult Harriet, do you think?”

  “More likely, Sister Marin. Harriet’s skills are along the potions and viruses line.”

  “True. We KPs are a bust at metaphysics. Let’s hope the science types come through. Though by the looks of things, we’re running out of time.”

  “It won’t be long until you can get back to your flight lessons.”

  Saskia’s face lit up. Happiness made her look sweet. “Now I find my true calling: stinger pilot. I don’t know what Asherah was thinking when she made me bleed.”

  As much as Saskia longed to get up in the air again, Mal knew she’d stick close by. Soul or no soul, labor could come at any time. The two bodies had already started a war with each other that was harder and harder to diffuse.

  “What’s going to happen to him, Saskia?”

  “He’ll live with the proofs, I suppose.” Saskia poured herself another cup of chocolate. She could really put that stuff away. “You can’t fight Red City.”

  “You did.”

  “No. I didn’t. But I didn’t play their game, either.”

  There was a bold bang on the door and it flew open, a commotion in the hall outside. Day One ran past Mal and Saskia to the window. “It’s the Golden Wasp.” She was crying. “It’s gone down.”

  A wisp of gray smoke floated over the place where the charred wreck had listed. The surface waters were serene.

  The com tablet signaled a message from Edmund. The Golden Wasp was lost.

  Maybe it was a bad boiler, a weakness in the metal housing, a loose nut, a worn gear. Maybe Garrick had nothing at all to do with the blast that ripped a monstrous gouge out of one side of the ship and sent the crew into the lifeboats, Captain Serna to the medical center, unconscious and near death, and one ship’s boy to the bottom of the bay.

  Was it the boy she met on her first voyage to Allel? The one who’d peeked at her shyly then called for the ship’s horn to “bellow away!” with such glee? She couldn’t know. She’d never asked the boy’s name.

  Asherah had made a terrible mistake. Mal could not possibly be the rightful princess of anything. She was a heartless baggage. And a coward too, afraid to tell her client, whom she’d unlawfully fallen in love with, what she had done to him and to his city.

  The prince he depended on to ensure Allel’s future security would be born without a soul, bringing ruin to Edmund and his counselor and chaos to his city and devastation to all the work he’d done these many years.

  This was why they said to never learn names, so you wouldn’t care so much. Why they kept pressing you to get another dog, so you wouldn’t make pets of people.

  Too late.

  Edmund was her pet. Counselor was her pet. She didn’t know it, but that boy had been her pet too. The great gaping wound in her heart ripped open and hurt all over again. Beastie, Beastie.

  “Are you unwell, my lady?” Day One moved a little close
r, but not too close.

  “Can I help you?” Day Two came no closer than Day One.

  She held out her arms. “Yes, thank you.” They rushed to her side and supported her to the sofa.

  It wouldn’t last. Tomorrow she’d have to be the strong one again. But for an hour, she let them hover. They shared a pot of chocolate. She asked them their names.

  Phoenix and Dragon

  Life was becoming too grim, even for Garrick. It wasn’t that Lady Bron expected cheerfulness. She’d never been cheerful in her life, and she didn’t enjoy the trait in others. The world was a gloomy place. Get over it. She liked to see a little misery in the citadellers and a lot of fear in the citizens. Keep them in line. Keep them asking how high instead of what for.

  Keep the work going forward.

  However, she wasn’t an idiot. Discomfort should never be allowed to ripen to resentment. That’s when productivity flew out the window.

  There were warning signs in the servants even now that fear was on the verge of changing into resentment. In the corridor, two maids who should be scrubbing the floor stared at the latest dragon painted on the wall. They didn’t even try to hide their anxiety when she passed them.

  Garrick was edging closer to madness. The double doors to the throne room had been decorated with a dragon and phoenix, a lovely piece of work. He should have left it at that. Instead, he’d ordered every interior wall in the citadel covered with the things.

  “Counselor, good afternoon!” He had called her to the throne room. Urgently.

  Again.

  Lately he’d been listening to petitions, and granting far too many. Today the room was filled with the usual courtiers, but no filthy petitioners. “Come in, come in. I have an important matter to discuss with you. Vital, in fact.”

  She made her features placid and allowed no eye contact with anyone but the king. “Can I be of service, my lord?”

  “I’ve been studying Celia’s totem of late. A dragon, you know. I have one of her daggers. It belonged to my poor sister who died, who would have been counselor.”

  The litany had congealed and consolidated into a rote repetition. Every day, he reported his sorrowful loss and remarkable discovery.