There was no time to waste. He slipped out the door and closed it behind him with a small click before making his way towards the closest alley. The evening breeze chilled the sweat on his skin, and he took several deep breaths to get a handle on the situation. The Goat would be making his next winding pass one block up, and once he finished that, he’d be in Lower Western. Too many eyes.
Catar looked up and down the desolate street. The lights were dim, wavering like a dying firefly, many of them no longer lit. He broke out into a run across the street and around a corner into a thin alley. He unsheathed his knife. If he didn’t do it now, the opportunity would be gone forever. The plan was already in motion, and all that remained before the key was in place was the sacrifice. He reached the end of the alley, and bent over slightly, trying to catch his breath. He peeked around the corner of the building and saw the Goat coming up the walk towards him.
Just a few steps more, Catar thought as he straightened up. Hurry up, old fool.
The Goat kept his pace, up and down with the cane. Catar could reach out and pull the cane right out of his hands, but he would wait until the Goat passed so he could grab him from behind.
A wailing of agony and pain filled the alley around Catar, and his muscles contracted as the noise paralyzed him. The Goat’s eyes turned and met his, and they stared at each other for what felt like an entire season. The blood rushed through Catar’s veins, reanimating him as he tried to decipher the look that shadowed the Goat’s face. Confusion? Surprise? Annoyance?
Certainly not fear.
A thin, condescending—Tiedan—smile widened on the Goat’s wrinkled face, and his random whiskers twitched. “Don’t be frightened, apprentice,” the Goat chuckled, pointing at a skeletal feline whose shiny black fur contrasted its malnourished frame. “She sounds like she’s in heat. Our dear Calamity will likely be crying all night.”
Catar nodded, coming to his senses. He took a step towards the Goat, muttered a spell, then jabbed his knife into the old man’s side.
THIRTEEN
Aren let out a sigh of relief when they crossed the roaring columns of fire, four each flanking the loose-pebbled road into Tiede Proper. Selina walked a little behind him, her feet sweeping the ground, leaving snaking trails in their wake. She had been gloomy since they had woken that morning, and Aren let her be. He hadn’t slept that well, and he was in no mood to make her disposition worse than it was. Besides, she had lost her gnome friend and had watched a man get impaled on a unicorn’s horn. He couldn’t fault her for being out of sorts.
They had been camped only two hours away from Tiede’s entrance last night, but waiting until morning had reenergized Aren, and he knew they still had a long way to get to the House so he could get rid of the message. They passed the military training grounds first, and Aren nodded at the captain of the guard, who held up a shaking hand to greet them. Selina took a fistful of Aren’s shirttail and attached herself to his side. The captain headed up a line of soldiers, dressed in black and armed with heavy swords and shields, standing sentry along the front of the high, black iron gates of the compound.
“You look rough, Apprentice.” A smile stretched across the captain’s face, and he made to put a fist at his chest. When he realized Aren wasn’t wearing the House crest, his hand paused midway. He motioned for water instead and a soldier rushed over with two flasks. “Rougher than usual. Fight with a wildcat?”
“Is it that obvious?” Aren laughed. He considered the message tucked into the inner pocket of his vest, thought of the secrets scribbled on it, then put it out of his mind. He handed Selina one of the flasks, and she began to drink. “Thank you. It’s been a long trip, and we lost our supplies.”
“Why didn’t you take the ferry to the Harbor?” the captain asked. “Nothing to attack you on a ferry.”
Aren almost spit out his drink and ended up choking on it, coughing to breathe. “I was told the Harbor’s closed—something about grisly murders in the city? All the fishermen are camped out on the river or in one of the small towns wondering when they can return home. If I had known someone would’ve let me on a boat, I wouldn’t have gone all the way around.”
“You could’ve tried,” Finroy said. “No one ever comes this way except the Tinkerer. That’s Tiede Wood, you cursed fool! What were you thinking?”
Aren swept the back of his hand across his mouth. “You have double the bowmen on the wall, your first line is in ready formation, and you have what looks like an escort unit preparing by the gate.” Aren’s eyes met the captain’s. “We’ve known each other since we were pups, Finroy. If no one ever comes this way, what are you geared up for?”
The captain’s face turned a shade of pink, and he adjusted the cap over his head of limp black hair. “Tiede is locked down. We have orders to detain anyone who tries to enter or leave through these gates.”
“So you’re going to arrest us?” Aren laughed. “Fin, I’m a House Apprentice—”
“You brought this on yourself,” Finroy cut him off. “When our sentinel spotted you coming down the road, we thought you were a mage, so I got on the lark to let the House know. Now everyone’s in a panic.” He removed his cap, placed it over his face, and let out a frustrated breath. He replaced the cap, attempted to control the quiver in his left eye, then said, “My orders are to escort you and the girl to the House at once. Maybe if I can explain what happened, I won’t get in too much trouble.”
Aren finished off the water and returned the empty flask. “I’m flattered. All this metal is for me and the vicious Selina?” When the corner of Finroy’s right eye twitched, Aren said, “Let me use your lark. I’ll call the House and tell them what happened.” The long-range communicator, commonly referred to as the lark, was a technological wonder invented in Tiede and used in about half of the Blessed Houses. Aren pretended to hold a receiver to his ear and speak into a mouthpiece. “Lord Vir? Good day, it’s just Aren—yes, the strange boy who works in your Library, that one. I’m calling to let you know that all is fine at the southern gates. You see, I’d heard rumors that the Harbor was closed, and I was looking forward to returning to my beloved books, so my little charge and I took the long way back.” Aren nodded as if he were listening to the other end of the conversation. “Yes, I know the Wood is meant to deter anyone from coming in this way, but you know us Unblessed types; we just don’t think straight. I had to fight off a few dozen wild gree with a staff I found. This made me look like a crazed, bloody mess, so when I approached the gates with a staff in one hand and my darling little sister in tow, I must have looked a terror. I’m sorry to have raised such a fuss, but really, all is well here. Carry on with your…well, whatever it is you do, my lord.”
Finroy’s face was mottled red. “I dare not disturb the House more than I already have because of you. The mounts are almost ready.”
Aren glared at the captain. Here he was, risking his life and Selina’s trying to save Tiede from the mages—though the stupid message he read made little sense—and he was being treated like a threat. Why? Because he happened to use the less popular entrance into the city?
Finroy proceeded to get the escort ready to move, and before long they were on their way, saddled atop charcoal-colored gree with faint white markings. Each large cat wore what looked like a black doublet with the Tiede crest emblazoned in silver across its broad chest. At least, Aren thought, they didn’t have to walk the rest of the way. The ride would only take a few hours, as opposed to the entire day.
They ate from a pack of fruits and cheeses as the gree trotted on soft-padded paws. Selina’s mount remained close to Aren’s, and every now and then Aren would reach over to scratch the beasts behind their ears and whisper soothing words. The gree’s purring sent rumbles through the group, causing Selina to giggle a little. They passed the industrial sector, where all the smiths had set up shop, and Aren wished they had been permitted to stop so that he could visit home. Finroy looked at Aren as if he had asked to rule his own House, and
Aren decided to stop wasting his breath.
To the west lay the heavy residential area, and to the east, the bustling Harbor District, where merchants displayed their wares and farmers and fishermen sold their harvest. The white buildings of the Harbor District were blinding in the late morning sun, and the bright-blue banners atop several of the buildings were whipped to attention by the sea winds, looking like birds eager to fly free. Aren took a deep breath, savoring the smell of sea salt in the air, feeling it permeate his skin and fill his lungs. More people were going about their business, and on several occasions, he noticed that some of the townsfolk would stop what they were doing to stare at them as they rode by. Feeling self-conscious, he exchanged a glance with Selina, who seemed to have noticed the same thing. They were no strangers to the curses and wards and the evil eye, but this was different.
Aren was well recognized, if not well known, in Tiede. It was no secret that he was an abandoned infant who had not been blessed, but when he was adopted into the Gerrit family, the legendary Blacksmiths of Tiede, he had secured a special place of honor and bewilderment in the eyes of the townsfolk. Why did such a noble line risk having such ill luck in their lives? Why would they let something so unclean carry their name? Aren’s life only became more complicated when he was selected by the most revered Tiede Elder to serve as an apprentice in the House. Typically, one had to be born in Tiede and blessed by the Night gods to serve in the House, yet Aren was given the honor and distinction of the position. The people didn’t know whether to admire him or hate him.
Finroy must have noticed the extra attention because he ordered the escort to keep close to the towering, textured white slate walls that were the distinct architecture in Tiede. The walls created several tiered levels throughout the city, which varied drastically in elevation depending on what part of the city you were in. The highest elevation in Tiede was also the northernmost point, upon which sat the House, over two thousand five hundred feet above the sea. The Harbor District was over twelve hundred feet below that, and the harbor docks over a thousand feet below that. The engineers had designed the city using a gradual tiered approach with a lot of curving stairs and winding slopes that gave the impression of a gentle elevation change.
When they reached the second highest tier, the gree meandered towards the Mermaid’s Song, the popular tavern and inn located between the Guilds and the city center that served as a sort of welcoming station. Finroy ordered everyone to dismount so that the animals could be stabled and watered after the long trip under the high sun. They would walk the rest of the way to the House.
The tavern’s lunch crowd was just picking up, and as they passed the front window, a young man with red-tinted, jet-black hair and an unshaven face careened out from the tavern entrance and stopped them in the middle of the road. “Aren! You’re back! I’ve been waiting since they put out the word; I wanted to be the first to tell you! Father refused to let me go out to the river to get you, but I said you weren’t coming back for at least another two days, and I even went to Elder and told him I’d volunteer to go get you. Everyone said it could wait, but really? All of life was being put on hold because you’re out fishing? Even when you aren’t around you’re causing trouble. And what in the gods’ names happened to you? You’re a bloody disaster!” The man’s eyebrows shot up as he noticed the escort. “Good day, Fin! What brings you up from the gates?”
Finroy and his small army were thrown off guard by the sudden interruption, and before the captain could get a word in, Aren said, “Fin, you remember my brother Dane.” Aren placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you too. I know I look like I just went toe to toe with a River Guardian, but what in the stars are you talking about?”
Dane gripped Aren by the shoulders. “The Priestesses of Syrn are here! That’s why I’ve been waiting for you!” Dane ruffled the top of Selina’s head. “I see you took good care of him, Selina. Next time, though, remind him to comb his hair.”
“And what does Syrn have to do with Selina and me?”
“I’ve heard different things, but I’ll tell you the more believable reasons.” Dane tried to slow down, but his words continued to gush out like a fountain. Finroy tried to interject, but Dane had returned to ignoring him. “One story is that the Priestesses want you as a slave.” He added under his breath, “You know, that kind of slave.” Aren rolled his eyes and was ready to push him out of the way, but Dane continued. “Another story is that Elder volunteered you to their library, to translate their old scrolls.”
“Only a hair more plausible than your first explanation,” Aren said, feeling uneasy about the number of people gathering around them. “Syrn keeps all of their literature a secret, and to have a male come in to read their writings is laughable. If these are your more believable reasons, then I hate to think what other rumors have been floating around.”
“The other thing I’ve heard,” Dane said, “is that Selina’s been chosen! Mother and Lana have been at the House every day, worrying and waiting for an explanation.”
Aren looked down at Selina—scratched up, dirty, and scared—and wondered what in the stars she had been chosen for. She was only five—six at most. They wouldn’t have chosen her, an Unblessed, to become the next Priestess. Still, it would explain all the looks they got as they traveled through town. Aren could feel the crowd growing, and he lowered himself to look her in the eyes. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’re going to find out what this is all about.”
Aren straightened up, herded Dane to his side opposite Selina, and Finroy ordered his unit to keep the crowd back. There were more people now, wanting to catch a glimpse of Selina as if the news had transformed her somehow. Aren was about to lead them down the alley towards the quieter Guild Row when someone pulled at his shoulder, forcing him to turn around.
“Apprentice, I’ve been ordered to escort you and the girl to the House. Captain Ohpan Finroy, you’re dismissed. We’ll take it from here.” A wiry young man dressed in the House’s midnight blue stood before Aren, flanked by three of the House Guard. An official House Messenger. This was a bigger deal than Aren had thought.
FOURTEEN
Through the black, imposing front doors of the magnificent House of Tiede was the renowned Tiede courtyard. The enormous courtyard was open to the skies, and at each corner stood a massive statue of the Fire god, carved from rough, black stone. Each statue acted as a column with one hand supporting the courtyard structure and the other hand holding a burning torch twice the size of a man. The torchlight tossed shadows against the fierce faces, making them terrifying to look upon.
In the middle of the courtyard was a large, circular fountain consisting of two tiers linked by a serpentine, fire-breathing sea dragon coiled around the middle. On the topmost, smaller basin lounged a mermaid, pouring water from a conch shell with one hand while resting the other on the dragon’s triangular head. The mermaid, whose beauty sharply contrasted the fire sentinels, had long, wavy hair and a gentle face from which blank eyes stared into the water. Each scale on her fishlike tail was carved into the creamy marble with amazing precision and detail, and flecked with bits of gold and crushed turquoise.
This afternoon, the light-filled courtyard was full of servants, buzzing with the added chores of catering to the esteemed guests from Syrn and eager to catch a glimpse of Selina. When the House Messenger and Guards led Dane, Aren, and Selina through the doors, the Priestess Minor Nianni and Lyte Tanda, Tiede’s most senior Elder, descended upon the group. Nianni’s nut-brown skin was radiant in the light, and her cheeks were flush with heat and anger. She didn’t bother gathering up her airy white chiffon skirts as she strode towards Selina, her face a mask of purpose. She took Selina’s hand, but Selina pulled away and wrapped herself around Aren’s leg.
“You are a complete mess, and I need to get you cleaned up; the Head Priestess and our guests have been made to wait long enough,” Nianni scolded, tugging at Selina’s skinny arm.
Aren put a
protective hand on Selina’s head. “No need to be so scary, Priestess. She might cooperate if you asked nicely.”
Nianni, more than two heads shorter than Aren, wrapped her arms around Selina’s midsection and tore her from his leg, carrying the kicking girl away. She stopped to shoot Aren an angry look. “You are a lazy toad with little respect, considering the situation.”
“And you, Priestess, are a fly-bug in my first ale of the summer season,” Aren retorted as she stomped off, her silver bracelets and anklets jingling. He pointed the gnarled mage’s staff at her. “If you hurt one hair on her head, I will personally…”
Elder Tanda, using his walking staff, jabbed Aren and Dane hard in their abdomens, causing them to double over. “Leave us,” Elder said to the Messenger and Guards before casting angry eyes at the servants milling about. They started and returned to their chores at once. Elder smacked the side of Dane’s arm hard with his staff. “Young blacksmith, go home before I tell your father to collect you from the dungeons.” Dane rubbed at his arm and gave Aren a lopsided grin. He signed that they should meet at the tavern later, then left before Elder could follow through on his threat. Elder’s fluffy white brows furrowed, adding more wrinkles to his high forehead. He glared at Aren with sharp, raven-black eyes.
“I’ve done nothing wrong,” Aren said, folding his arms across his chest. “The Priestess Minor has always hated me; you know that. I don’t even know what this situation is she’s talking about.”
“If you can’t act with respect in the courtyard—in the heart of this House—what good are you to me?” Elder’s thin, pale arm struck out from the flowing midnight-blue House robe that swallowed him, and he poked a bony finger at Aren’s chest. “Was that any way for a House Apprentice to behave? Especially one of your standing?”
“But Selina was scared, and—”
“Even she must learn that there is a time and a place, and now she will have that opportunity. I’m afraid it’s too late for you to learn anything.”
Uniting the Heavens Page 5
