Uniting the Heavens

by Emily English

  Dane looked confused. “But it did.”

  “Because that’s not quite what I said.” Aren struggled to make sense of his own words. “Stars, I’m going mad.” He looked at Gryf. “You can’t keep this from Lord Vir. After that mess with Lady Geyle—”

  “I’m not going to chance him locking you up again,” Gryf said. “We don’t need him to entertain the possibility that you have any kind of powers or that you could’ve summoned the creature.”

  “Of course I didn’t! You’re taking a big risk. If Lord Vir knew, he’d lock you up, and—”

  “Aren,” Dane interjected. “If they suspect that you have magic without being marked, they’ll see you as a whole new threat.”

  Gryf grabbed Aren’s forearm and held it between the three of them. “You are our brother. We protect you first.”

  FIVE

  Aren read over his notes. He was running out of time. Every turn of the gears on the clock was one moment closer to an attack on Vir. Gryf and the Hunters were prowling the halls and rooms, waiting. Dane was also in the House visiting Rieka, and Aren felt terrible that they had to be kept apart. It made him think of Lake and how far away she was. He wanted to hold her, to see her smile. He wanted to talk about old books and stories, laugh until the sun began to peek over the horizon. He wanted to watch her as her eyes stared off into the heavens, her mind far away. He wanted to be the one to touch her, to bring her back home.

  He reached into his drawer for his little box of stars, then spilled them onto his desk. He forced Lake out of his mind and returned to work, the fingers of his free hand fiddling with the paper stars. It was time to study plants again.

  The tracing elder could be found all over northern Cordelacht, boasting clusters of tiny, white flowers. This particular type of elder plant had conflicting meanings. One reference said it symbolized a curse or revenge, but another book said it was used for protection. Then, there was the aspen. There were no aspens near Tiede, but Aren was intrigued by their meaning: fire, transformation, transcendence. This was probably not the plant he was looking for, but he’d mention it to Kel Bret and Lana. It might be nice to incorporate into a weapon design.

  He skipped the iris just to narrow his list and looked up the sage. It symbolized wisdom and immortality. The leaf of the summer sage was close to the leaf he had seen on Tun, but not quite.

  He sighed as he unscrewed his pen to refill it with ink. “Gods, if you’re really listening, I appreciate the list of plants, but a few more hints would’ve been nice.” He pulled an old, stained cloth from the box of pen supplies in his drawer and used it to wipe up any smeared ink. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to eat these plants or shove them in the creature’s eyeballs.”

  Next was tansy, one of the plants he had to hunt down for Elder years ago. The flowers looked like puffy, yellow buttons, and one of the herbalists told him it was wonderful for keeping flies away. Aren thought that the flies might also stay away if that particular herbalist stopped mixing up concoctions that smelled like gree shit. In any case, the leaves were all wrong. He crossed it off his list.

  Aren picked up one of the paper stars, rolling it back and forth along his thumb and index finger. He continued to scribble his findings. Just one more: iris, a message. He flipped through Miss Genethew Farista’s boring book and found page after page after page of iris. He dropped his head onto his desk with a thud. “The gods hate me,” he muttered to himself as the Library door clicked and creaked. He guessed Dane was back from his visit with Rieka, and he hoped he was bringing a drink. He knew that the work was important, that the gods had placed the fate of Tiede in his hands, but why did it have to be plants?

  He sat up. “If those cursed gods hadn’t put the ridiculous idea in everyone’s head that I’m supposed to come up with the answer to this mess, I wouldn’t be here torturing my brain with illustrations and diagrams of leaves. Now I know they hate me.”

  “Every time you open your mouth, it’s a blasphemy festival,” Head Priestess Crina said as she walked up to him.

  Aren cursed under his breath, then stood up, bowing his head in respect. “My apologies, Head Priestess. I thought you were my brother.”

  “It doesn’t matter who you thought I was. The fact remains that you are a blasphemer,” she said, weary and disappointed.

  He straightened up, biting his tongue and putting on a smile. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “I’d like to talk.” She took a seat, smoothing out the white chiffon of her dress. Then, she looked up at him with her severe, silver eyes. “It’s regarding Selina. You are her guardian, even if it’s not in any official capacity. It’s plain to see whom she goes to for comfort, guidance, and protection. I still see you as an immature young man who has no business raising a little girl, never mind a Priestess; however, Elder Tanda has asked me to be patient with you.”

  “I see we’re speaking plainly,” Aren said, smoothing his hair back away from his eyes. “For the record, my sister Lana is Selina’s legal guardian.”

  Crina ignored him. “Syrn believes Selina is very powerful and has a strong connection to the gods. We still don’t know which god to align her to, but there’s no doubt she must go to Syrn.”

  “If there’s no doubt, and I have no business raising her, then why bother telling me? You’ll do what you have to do regardless of how I feel.”

  If Crina was offended by his words, she didn’t show it. “I’d rather we say what has to be said in private, instead of you making a fool of yourself in front of Lord Vir during the initiation ceremony.”

  “How kind of you,” he said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm.

  She gave him a hint of a smile. “I owe it to Elder. We’ve served together in this House for a very long time. Our respect for each other is mutual and deeply rooted.” She cocked her head to the side, as if to examine him. “I’m not sure what he sees in you. I trust him but I don’t see it.”

  “There’s nothing to see. I’m devoted to my family and to the House. I’m nothing beyond that.”

  “Then let me say what I have to say, and we can move on with our lives. If the mages are rising again, Selina’s ties to the gods make her a prime target. Once they find out about her, her life will be in danger. The sisterhood will protect her with their lives, and if you’re as smart as Elder claims you are, then you know that Syrn is the safest place for her.”

  “According to legend, Syrn is a city built by the hands of the gods of both Night and Light,” Aren said, leaning against his desk. “Walls that touch the skies. Syrites who believe their sole purpose is to serve the gods and to that end have taken up arms to protect the city at any cost. Priestesses gifted with forms of elemental power. Not even Tiede would dare challenge Syrn.”

  “Then, you see why Selina should go.”

  “She’s safe with me too,” he pointed out.

  Crina looked like she would have laughed if she didn’t think it was beneath her. “You have been at the center of battle with at least three mages in the past several days, not to mention that creature that still haunts our streets.” She leaned forward in her chair. “I have never known a more dangerous young man to be associated with in my life, and I have lived a very long life, Apprentice.”

  Aren folded his arms across his chest, feeling defensive. “Then you haven’t known very many young men. Besides, I’d never let anything happen to her. She’s safer with me than the likes of you.”

  The Priestess’s eyes blazed as if she’d been challenged. “Is that so?” she asked, her voice soft.

  Aren was about to come back with a witty retort but then noticed the edge of his vision begin to go dark. “What are you doing to me?” he asked, his hands gripping the desk. The color was draining from his surroundings, everything beginning to blur. He tried to remain calm, but his heart was pounding in his chest. He was going blind and was on the verge of panicking.

  “It’s paralyzing when you lose one of your senses,” Crina said, her voice
no longer in front of him. His arms reached out as if trying to catch her. “I’m promised to Alaric, and this was his gift to me. Not all Priestesses come into their powers, and for the ones that do, it requires years of devotion and patience.” Her voice was moving, and he could hear the rustle of her chiffon gown.

  “That’s wonderful,” he said, his arms still flailing. “Now, please give me back my sight.”

  “What do you need it for? There’s so much to learn from darkness.”

  He put his hands down, holding onto the desk, afraid that he’d fall over. “Lesson learned, Priestess. If you’re trying to show me how well protected Selina will be, I get it.” Light began to fill his eyes, bright and near blinding. It stung, and he squeezed his eyes shut, almost wanting the darkness back. He blinked, and his head swam, his surroundings saturating with color. Crina sat as if she hadn’t moved. “Thank you,” he said at last, more out of courtesy than actual gratitude.

  “I told you that we wait years before we are gifted, but Selina is already blessed.”

  “In what capacity and by which god?” he asked, blinking a few more times.

  “I admit I don’t know, but she communicates directly with the gods, particularly the Water goddess.” Crina stood up and took a step towards him. “Apprentice, if the mages find out about her, they will kill her. I just want you to understand why she must go to Syrn.”

  Aren sighed. Her logic was sound, and deep down he knew that the Priestesses could give Selina a life that he never could. With the Priestesses, she would live almost as well as the House Lords and Ladies. She might even be able to find out where she came from.

  “By the expression on your face, I can tell you agree. I’ll let you carry on with your work since everyone is depending on you. Strange how all our lives changed when you and Selina returned from your fishing expedition.”

  Aren didn’t look at her, didn’t watch her leave. He waited for the door to creak and the latches to catch. Then he slumped back into his chair, feeling drained and defeated. Had he heard the Priestess right? Elder told her he was smart? Aren chuckled, wondering what Elder had been drinking when he said it. He returned to his notebook. This wasn’t the time to worry about Priestesses. He could do that after the creature was dead.

  He picked up his pen and riffled through the boring Herbs and Potions until he got to the section on the iris. He selected a random page, then began to sketch the flower into his notebook, copying the diagrams and adding his own lines and shading. He wrote a line beneath it about how the iris symbolized a message. Then, he flipped back to the pictures of aspens.

  He propped up his head with one hand and let his mind wander as he began to sketch the leaves of a fire aspen. The shape of it, so similar to a flame, intrigued him. He put down his pen and thumbed through a few more pages and learned that great clusters of fire aspen could be found northwest of Kaishar, northeast of Aum, and west of Syrn. He wondered how he’d never heard of this tree before, considering his family’s strong ties to the Fire god. He was getting distracted, but he couldn’t help himself. He leaned back in his chair and continued to read.

  Aspens were renowned for lying dormant and sending off their shoots underground, waiting for the right moment to reemerge. A large stand of fire aspens had once been near Tiede, northeast of the River Taethe, but a strange disease had killed them off long ago and they never returned. Arboriculturalists had found the Tiede root colony, determined that it was still alive but asleep. Masters in Rose and Tennar continued to log the colony’s status, but because of the inactivity had proclaimed the fire aspen of Tiede to be eternally dormant.

  Aren turned the page and found sketches of the once living Tiede colony. There were pages of theories on what might have killed the once regal trees, but the one that caught his eye was the illustration of the vines wrapped around the trees, strangling them.

  He sat up, fumbled for his pen. He began to scribble notes about vines and his experience with Tun in the dungeons. Then, he reread the aspen symbolism he had written:

  Fire. Transformation. Transcendence.

  “Rising, changing, rebirth, supremacy,” he muttered out loud, tapping his pen against his notebook, ink splattering his desk, fingers, papers.

  He mopped up the ink without thinking, then flipped through his writing. “A vine. A leaf.” He stopped at his sketch of the iris, picked up his notebook, and turned it sideways, frowning at his drawing. Then, he took up his pen and drew the flower again, this time drawing only one petal. “It’s not a leaf,” he breathed. “It’s a petal, a disguise. Iris. Message.”

  He dropped his pen as he stood up, pushing back his chair. “Stars, what’ve I done?”

  He bolted for the doors. Like Crina had said, everything had been fine before he and Selina had returned. He had to find Lord Vir.

  SIX

  Aren ran across the courtyard and spared a glance at the mermaid when he collided with Dane. “Where’s Lord Vir?” Aren’s tone was urgent.

  There was a piercing scream as the main doors were blown open. The creature had returned, taller in stature with twisting tendrils of black smoke surrounding it. It fixed its gaze on them and screamed again, causing them to cover their ears. Hunters swarmed the courtyard, pouring in from the myriad of hallways and rooms lining the overlook. Gryf ran up to his brothers, his great sword at the ready.

  The creature spread its arms, and shards of magic sprayed out in all directions. Aren and his brothers dove for cover behind the fountain. “It learned how to use the front door,” Aren said. “With great power comes great manners.”

  “Is it just me or does it seem stronger than last time?” Dane said, unsheathing his short sword. “Bigger too.”

  Three of the Hunters attacked, and Aren noticed the trace of arrows taking flight from the overlook.

  “I think I found something on the monster,” Aren said. “I need to tell Lord Vir.”

  “Go,” Gryf said, preparing to leave his cover. “Take Dane with you. Once you find him, you can act as another layer of defense if this thing gets away from us.”

  Gryf’s eyes were fixed on Tirren, the Hunter with the gun at the corner of the overlook. Tirren loosed eight shots, and the creature turned to seek out its attacker while deflecting sword blows. Gryf pointed at the nearest hallway, and Dane and Aren took off, hoping that the creature hadn’t seen them.

  They approached the Lord’s quarters and Dane pulled him back by the shirt collar, before Aren took another step. “This is what Gryf means about you being predictable. You think a Hunter is going to let you just walk in?”

  A Hunter stepped out of the shadows, as if to answer Dane’s question. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I need to see Lord Vir,” Aren said. “It’s about the creature. I think I know where it came from.”

  “Follow me,” she said, leading them down the hall. They entered the Lady’s room, then walked to a door that connected to the Lord’s chambers. She pushed on the latch and swung the door open. The room was empty and lit by streams of light pouring in through the windows and balcony. She pursed her lips and whistled a strange, short melody.

  Aren watched for movement, and soon enough another Hunter revealed himself. The silver-haired man had been positioned just to the side of the door, and Aren jumped at his presence. “What’s going on, Illana?” he asked.

  “Tenley, take the Apprentice to see Lord Vir. I’m returning to the hallway to stand watch.”

  Dane said, “Put me somewhere I can be of use if that thing finds us.”

  Tenley grinned. “I do like you Gerrits.” A woman came up behind them, and Aren jumped again. “Dane, follow Hunter Lyse; Apprentice, with me.”

  Aren had never been in the Lord’s chambers, and he was awed by the size of it. It was filled with dark furniture covered in luxurious fabrics. There was a sitting area, a desk, bookshelves filled to capacity. Rich oil paintings and ornate tapestries hung from the high walls, and gilded mirrors echoed his passing reflecti
on. It was a home within a house.

  Tenley led him into another room, whistling a low tune over and over as they moved through the space. Aren began to see shadows shift and slide, and he could sense the presence of others. A massive bed fixed in midnight-blue silks dominated the next room.

  Aren turned to see Elder standing just inside the doorway, and the old man assaulted him with questions as Tenley left them. “How did it look out there? Is the monster weakening at all?” Elder studied Aren’s face. “Why do you have ink all over yourself?”

  Aren wiped a hand over his face. “I’ve been working. I thought we could hear the fighting from here, but the sound insulation is impressive.” He raised an eyebrow at Elder’s narrowed gaze. “Where’s Lord Vir?”

  “What news?” Vir asked, stepping in from the balcony. “I can’t stand being locked in here like a prisoner. Tell me my Hunters have disposed of that thing so I can get back to running this House.”

  Aren studied Vir for a moment, noting how much healthier Vir looked since they had been rid of the oil. His voice was still a little rough, but the cough was almost gone. His eyes were sharp and vibrant again, and there was color in his cheeks.

  “I don’t think they can kill it,” Aren said. “Not by conventional methods.”

  “I know you haven’t come all this way to give me bad news.”

  “That depends,” Aren said, taking a deep breath. “Do you have the message I delivered from Rose? I need to read it.”

  Vir frowned at him. “That letter is personal. The only information you or anyone needed to know was in regards to Rose’s detaining of the marked.”

  Aren felt jittery and was doing his best to keep still. “I’ll hold the information in the strictest confidence, my Lord, I swear it. I’m just looking for markers or a code. I think the reading of the message triggered this whole mess,” Aren explained. “I’m hoping that there’s also another trigger to end it.” Vir and Elder looked at him with doubt. “All this time I thought it was a leaf, but it’s an iris petal.” Aren waited for the light of understanding to fill their eyes. Nothing. “The iris is symbolic of a message. What don’t you understand?”