The Fractured Sky

by Thomas M. Reid

  She went straight to Tauran. “You look very tired,” she said, embracing him.

  I am tired, he thought. Bone weary, as the mortals say. “I’m better now that you’re here,” he said. “What’s brought you?”

  The elder deva adapted a look of mock indignation. “Why, Tauran! You wound me! Think you so little of my divination skills that you would doubt my ability to know when and where I am needed?”

  Tauran laughed, gladness filling him for a moment. “You divined that I would be here?” he asked.

  “No, I did not expect to find you here,” she answered. “I merely augured that I would be needed here, at this time. As usual, I was right.” She hugged him again, then pulled back to stare the angel squarely in the face. “What troubles you?” she asked.

  Tauran looked away and felt the full weight of his worries. “I don’t know,” he said, watching the storm-tossed clouds roil around the two of them. “I fear that I am losing my way, Eirwyn,” he said, returning to gaze earnestly at her. “No one seems to see what I see, the menace that seems to be gathering in the House. Not even Micus shows any grasp of the threats I fear.”

  Eirwyn sighed. “This feud between Tyr and Helm has upset the balance. The sooner they settle it, the better off we’ll all be.”

  For a moment, they sat together unspeaking, with only the roar of wind and waterfall filling their ears. The moment stretched out, became a bit uncomfortable. Tauran wanted to share more, but he fretted that he was about to cross a threshold from which he could not return.

  “You can tell me, Tauran,” Eirwyn said at last. “It won’t hurt my feelings. We’ve been friends too long to let this feud come between us.”

  If only it were that benign, Tauran thought. He smiled slightly. “It’s actually the opposite,” he said. He drew a deep breath before proceeding. “I believe Tyr has lost his reason.”

  Eirwyn drew her head back a bit when she heard the angel’s words. She scrutinized him for several heartbeats, until he began to fear that he had misjudged her. I thought she would understand better than most. But maybe—

  “That’s a dangerous thing you say, Tauran,” the elder deva said. “Most within the House—or at least the Court—would not take kindly to hearing those words.”

  “Believe me,” Tauran said, “I know. I dare not blaspheme that way in front of”—he cast a quick glance in Eyrwin’s direction—“anyone less sympathetic to the notion.” He saw her smile slightly then. “But I believe it,” he continued, “and furthermore, I think I can prove that Cyric has his hand in it.”

  Eirwyn gave a small gasp. “You don’t really have a good grasp for building support for your ideas, do you?”

  Tauran’s chuckle felt mirthless. “It would seem not,” he said. “And yet, I’m about to go before the High Council and argue that very thing.”

  “Tauran!” she said, admonishing him. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

  Tauran sighed. “Perhaps,” he said. “But if I’m correct and do nothing, then I fear I have committed the greater crime. The risk I take in revealing my suspicions pales in comparison to the repercussions if I am right.”

  “What leads you to believe this?” she asked.

  Tauran explained what he knew of Aliisza, Vhok, and Zasian.

  When he was done, Eirwyn sat very still. Finally, she rose to her feet. “What you claim is very serious, Tauran. But my divinations did not lead me here to talk you out of your plan. Of that I am confident.”

  Tauran stared up at her, waiting to see what she would say next. What he thought he had lost in Micus, he hoped against hope he had gained in Eirwyn.

  “I am going to meditate on this,” she said. “And when I have more information, I will seek you out again. Perhaps I have a part to play in this.”

  “Thank you,” Tauran said, rising to face her. “You’ve given me renewed strength to see this through.”

  Eirwyn held up her hands to forestall his gratitude. “I cannot promise that I will be able to offer you much,” she said, “but I will do what I can.”

  “That is all that I can ask,” Tauran replied. He hugged her then, thankful for her friendship.

  When he stepped back, her gaze bore into him. “Be very careful, Tauran,” she said. “You will make many enemies revealing these theories. The High Council of Tyr is a dangerous entity to rile.”

  Tauran nodded. “I know,” he said. Then he drew a deep breath. “But I am due to appear before them any moment, so I must go. Thank you again.”

  Eirwyn smiled and vanished. A moment later, Tauran departed too.

  Neither of them had noticed the lantern archon flitting nearby, hiding beneath the protrusion upon which they sat. Having heard the entire conversion, it vanished, too, hurrying with a heavy heart to report to Micus of Tauran’s treachery against Tyr.

  Aliisza sat on the bed and wished Kaanyr would stop pacing. The cambion had been at it since the two of them had been brought to her chambers—at least, she assumed they were hers. It felt as if only a day or so had passed since she had last been there, and she had to keep reminding herself it had been eleven years. She wondered if anyone else had spent time here. That thought mildly annoyed her.

  What’s the matter with me? she thought, growing more agitated. I’m acting like I want to stay here.

  On the contrary, the moment two of the dog-headed creatures had escorted the pair to her chambers while Tauran and Kael departed to attend to other matters, Aliisza had grown restless. Certainly, the foreboding sensation of being trapped again unsettled her. But the alu knew it was more than that.

  Tauran and Kael’s departure had stirred feelings of … regret.

  I didn’t want them to leave, Aliisza realized. Am I so loath to face Kaanyr alone? Or is there more to it?

  “I’ve been going about this all wrong,” Kaanyr said, disrupting her thoughts. “I’ve been fighting this the whole time. I should know better.”

  “Fighting what?” she asked, thankful that he had deigned to come out of his brooding to speak to her.

  “The angel’s hold over me. His plans. All of it.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  Kaanyr stopped pacing and turned to look at her. “What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, scowling. “You never just agree with me lately.”

  “Only because you’ve been making no sense lately,” she countered. “You have been acting the fool, revealing your every emotion, reacting instead of scheming. You have not been the Kaanyr Vhok I thought I knew.” Does that Kaanyr Vhok even exist? she wondered.

  The cambion stood and stared at her for a long time. His eyes bored into hers, roamed up and down her body, lingering appreciatively in certain places. She had assumed her true form when they had returned to her chambers, but he hadn’t noticed before right then. For the first time in a very long time, Kaanyr seemed …

  Hungry, Aliisza decided. She actually began to blush beneath that gaze.

  Kaanyr seemed to shake himself out of his carnal stupor. “I’m not the only one behaving oddly,” he said. He turned and sat upon a cushioned chair on the far side of the room. “You are not yourself, either.”

  Aliisza caught herself feeling a bit jealous that Kaanyr had managed to stroll away so easily. She didn’t want the moment to end quite like that.

  “Who’s to blame for that?” she asked, feeling the tiniest bit petulant. “Who arranged for me to become trapped here, under the tutelage of an angel? What did you expect would happen?”

  “Zasian assured me that his protective spells would ward you from any true change.” Vhok’s voice was quiet. “Did he lie about that, too?”

  Aliisza thought for a long moment before answering. “No,” she said at last. “But he didn’t tell you the truth, either. What he did—the spells that he wove over me to shield me from Tauran’s influence—wasn’t so much a protective mask as it was a … reversion.”

  Kaanyr cocked his head to one side. “Explain,” he demanded.

  “He didn’t
cast a spell that would shield me from something Tauran forced on me. He cast a spell that would change me back at the end.”

  “So the angel’s damnable tricks took hold?” Kaanyr narrowed his eyes and scowled.

  “That’s just it,” Aliisza said, feeling uneasy. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to admit her next words to herself, much less to Kaanyr. “There were no tricks, my love. He only showed me a perspective.”

  “Perspective about what?”

  “About the nature of goodness. It’s not so easy to explain. I’m not sure I understand it myself.”

  “I’m not sure I want to,” Kaanyr countered, waving her away.

  “Oh, but you will hear what I say!” Aliisza shouted, angry at his flippant dismissal. “You are the one who subjected me to it, so you are damn well going to hear me out!”

  Kaanyr glowered at the alu, but he finally nodded once, almost imperceptibly. “Because it’s you,” he said.

  A flood of old emotions rushed through Aliisza, but she pushed them away and continued. “I came to understand that I could give myself up, make myself vulnerable, and allow myself to care about others before myself,” she said. “I learned to surrender to caring, because it can come back tenfold, if you let it. I know it doesn’t make any sense to you, because you did not go through what I did, but trust me, there can be times when the benefit you reap is worth the price you pay.”

  She could tell by the look on Kaanyr’s face that he either didn’t understand what she was talking about or didn’t care to. She pushed on without letting him interrupt.

  “I think Zasian understood what would happen to me and simply lied to you. He might have told you that Tauran’s efforts would involve coercion or divine trickery, but that’s not how it happened. I came to those conclusions on my own. All Zasian did was plant a trigger that would remind me of who I was before—snap me out of it, if you will.”

  Kaanyr pursed his lips in thought. “So, where do things stand for you now?” he asked. “Whose side are you on?”

  “That’s just it,” Aliisza said, rising from the bed to begin pacing. She had to choose her next words very carefully. “I’m not on anyone’s side.”

  “So you believe this nonsense that the angel spouts?” The cambion’s voice dripped with disgust. “Or else you claim to in order to torment me.”

  “No!” Aliisza said, turning to face him. She clenched her hands, feeling helpless to explain. “Not like that,” she said, but her voice was faint. She knew Kaanyr wouldn’t believe her. She didn’t believe the words herself.

  The reward you reap is worth the price you pay.

  “I love four men,” she said at last, blurting it out before she could think about it.

  Kaanyr raised one eyebrow. He looked almost bemused. “That’s just not a word I hear from your lips, lover,” he said, then, when he realized his own irony, added, “at least not used in that way.”

  Aliisza almost chuckled. He thought her notion of being in love was stranger than the fact that she shared it among four men. “I love each of you in a very different way,” she said, “and I will not demean any of it by trying to explain them all to you.”

  “How noble of you,” he countered. That sardonic tone was back.

  “But know that you are one of them,” she said, staring him straight in the eye. “Despite everything that has happened, despite all that you have done to me, I am still yours, lover.” She almost felt herself slip into that provocative, purring tone of voice. She resisted it.

  Kaanyr smirked. “You have a strange way of showing it,” he said. “Most of my lovers don’t trick me into entering subservient arrangements with angels.”

  Aliisza smiled sheepishly in spite of her pounding heart. “I know,” she said. “I was angry with you. I wanted to punish you.”

  Kaanyr raised that single eyebrow again. “Punish me?” he asked. “I don’t take too kindly to punishment,” he said. “From anyone,” he added. His voice carried a dangerous edge to it.

  Aliisza did allow herself to slip into that familiar role of temptress then. She sauntered over to Kaanyr. “Perhaps,” she said, and she was almost surprised at how smoky her voice had become, “but I do.” She closed the distance until she was standing directly in front of him. She cocked her hips to one side and rested her hands on them. “Aliisza’s been a good girl,” she said softly. “Make her bad again.”

  She held her breath, wondering if it would work.

  Kaanyr sat very still, though the alu could see the muscles of his neck working as he swallowed several times. She knew she was getting to him.

  “Why are you still here?” he asked, his own voice soft. “You can flee whenever you want. So why remain, be that angel’s lackey?”

  Aliisza cast a glance toward the open balcony, saw the roiling storms beyond the opening, and returned her gaze to the cambion’s face. Don’t think I haven’t thought about it, she thought. Almost every second since we got tossed back in here. “Because I want to stay with you,” she answered, and it was the truth.

  Kaanyr nodded. “And who are the other three?” he asked.

  Aliisza fought not to show her fear. What will you do when I tell you? she wondered. She took a deep breath. “One, I love like a mother. One, like a daughter. And one no longer even lives,” she said. “But the only one that matters right now, I love in the most mischievous way possible.”

  Kaanyr smiled then and reached for Aliisza at last.

  Chapter Five

  But this is a matter of honor!” Tauran argued, his voice rising. It echoed throughout the hemispherical chamber, reverberating back against Kael as he and the deva stood before the Council. Its members sat arrayed in a semicircle, nine solars in all. Each one rested upon a thronelike chair arranged on a raised, curved dais around half the chamber. Kael never liked having to peer upward to face the members. Their silvery faces and golden eyes were inscrutable, and it always left him with the feeling of being on trial.

  Perhaps we are on trial, he thought. The whole House has lost its senses. They’ve never questioned Tauran like this before.

  Somewhere beyond the chamber, muted rumbles reverberated from the growing chaos sweeping the plane. Kael could feel the power of the storms in the stones beneath his feet. The entire Court of Tyr shook with the energy of the gods’ argument.

  So much anger, Kael thought, dismayed. So much energy wasted. Surely they should be—No. Do not think that way. Do not try to fathom the depths of the gods, he told himself. Serve them well.

  Tauran continued. “I made a bargain with the two of them, and I gave them my word.”

  “That may be,” said the High Councilor, sitting in the very middle of the assemblage. “But in this instance, it might not have been yours to give. There is much occurring here that we do not yet understand, and you risk not only your own reputation within the Court, but the well-being of many that dwell within the House.”

  “They agreed to be bound by obligation,” he said, as if that answered all the Councilors’ doubts. Kael suspected it did not, and he wondered why. What has Tauran ever done to make you doubt? he wondered, frustrated.

  “One of them agreed, Tauran, not both,” the High Councilor said. “The cambion is an easy read. He is as manipulative and cunning as he is corrupt, and he will cause you trouble. She, on the other hand, is an unknown factor in all of this, and she has already violated numerous laws as our guest.”

  Tauran nodded and spread his hands in supplication. “I cannot defend all of Aliisza’s actions to this point, Councilors, but I can also see how our influences have begun to affect her. She has behaved with more compassion than even I would have imagined. She risked injury to herself in order to save a pair of young petitioners in that village today. I believe she has started down a path to redemption.”

  Kael frowned while listening to Tauran describe Aliisza’s selfless act. Redemption? That did not fit the image of her in his mind. Would she have saved them without the protection of your bargain? h
e wondered.

  “This is the third time you have come before us concerning this being, Tauran,” another of the Councilors said, her feathered wings fluttering behind her to show her impatience. “Each time before, you have asked us to accept your wisdom, to trust you in these matters, despite our better judgment. In both cases, events did not play out as you expected.”

  Kael saw Tauran shift from foot to foot, saw the deva’s own wings flutter in agitation. He had never seen the angelic creature seem so … ruffled before. They’re not buying it either, he realized. Maybe trying to sell everyone on her good points isn’t the best way. Torm knows it’s hard for me to see her good side. But you know her better than anyone here, he thought. Convince them so we can go.

  “Now you stand before us again, pleading for more leeway,” she continued. “It is not a pattern that lends itself much to confidence and optimism on our part.”

  Tauran spread his hands again. “As I have said before this court in the past, I believe our best hope of gaining her trust and ultimately turning her to a path of goodness is to give her some room, some freedom. We must allow her to feel her way through this on her own.”

  “Such a course is risky.”

  “My plan involves more risk, to be sure, but I believe the greater rewards are worth it. The less we interfere, the more likely it is that she will embrace this new outlook. The more we restrict her, attempt to confine her actions to that narrow path, the more she will resist and turn against us.”

  The High Council was quiet for a long moment. Kael wondered if they were silently conversing or merely thinking. The half-drow caught himself wanting to pace and had to force himself to remain still.

  He could see both points of the debate. On the one hand, Aliisza was willful and impudent. She was not bound to serve anyone and could wreak havoc on Tauran’s schemes at any inopportune moment. And Kael detested the idea of relying on immoral fiends, full-blooded or not, in order to hunt down Zasian. The holy power of Tyr and Torm should be enough!