Uniting the Heavens

by Emily English

  The creature lifted its blade again, and its entire body was surrounded in red light. How did you know? it demanded, taking a step towards them.

  “Get up, brother,” Gryf ordered.

  Aren didn’t have time to move. The monster attacked, the red blade slicing through the air so fast that he was surprised Gryf was able to counter each blow. The creature moved with an inhuman speed. Aren’s mind raced. What did it say about its name? The jarring sound of metal hitting stone broke into his thoughts, and he looked over to where Gryf stood weaponless in a defensive stance, ready to fend off whatever else the creature would throw at him until the last blow. Too many lives had been lost or broken. Aren wasn’t about to let Gryf fall too. These were good people who accepted him despite his doomed future, despite his flawed persona. He wouldn’t let them die for him. He changed the spell, knowing what it could cost him if it worked. He changed it for the greater good of Tiede. What was the loss of one Unblessed compared to the last of the Tiede bloodline? Compared to his brothers?

  He picked up his knife and staggered to his feet, the fury building.

  Unleash the Terror… Aren recalled the message. The word “terror” in Old Magic…

  “Tsalmit!” Aren roared.

  The creature snapped its head to look at him. They stared at each other for a moment, then it stretched out its hand to level a blast of magic at Gryf, who turned, catching the blow with his upper back and shoulder. Gryf dropped to the floor, unable to lift himself, shards of magic littering his skin.

  Aren’s fury tore like fire through his veins at the sight of his strong, protective brother falling helpless. “I will have your death in return for what you’ve done here,” Aren said, his voice cold and sharp.

  Now I see you, Aren, son of no man. The creature laughed, speaking in Old Magic. This is the energy you’ve been hiding, and yet only an inkling of it. It’s magnificent; your power will feed me for years if I keep you alive, pet.

  The monster swung its blade, and Aren deflected it as he sidestepped, grabbing its forearm before it could complete the arc of the attack. The arm felt of bone and old, dry leather. Passing through the smoke felt like the stale breath of the dead on his skin. He twisted the arm back, pulled the monster close, and pressed the knife into one of the pulsing symbols, causing the creature to cringe.

  “Who gave you your name, Tsalmit?” Aren asked in Old Tiede. The language was a bastardization of Old Magic and Ancient, and it was easier for him to speak. He pressed the knife harder and the red blade vaporized. “Who gave you life? I own your name and its power bends to my will. Answer me.”

  The mages, Tsalmit rasped. Mages in Rose. I don’t know more than that. How did you learn my name?

  Aren could feel the magic passing through him, and he redirected it into the knife. The symbol beneath it began to flicker and smoke. “Your magic is an abomination. Even the Wood wants you eliminated. The winds learned of your name, and the voices carried it back to me. You wanted me to become…this.”

  They’ll never see you the same again, Tsalmit spat. They’ll fear you, question what you really are.

  Aren muttered a word, then sliced through the symbol. Fire without heat tore through the creature’s arm. It shrieked and twisted in his grasp. He pressed the tip of the knife into another symbol, switching from Old Tiede to the Ancient tongue. “This is the akaras.”

  Tsalmit shook his head and tried to pull away from his grasp. The mages never foresaw you.

  Aren grinned, then pushed his knife straight into the symbol as the Ancient word escaped his lips and seemed to become something tangible in the dusky light. “Jir,” he whispered. The monster cried out once more before its body began to disintegrate into a fine black powder.

  Tsalmit growled his final argument. You’re nothing. You’re a boy who came from nothing, and you’ll die as nothing.

  Aren nodded, his eyes seeming to lose its cloudiness. “I know,” he said in Common. Then, he thrust his blade into the symbol for life, fading just under its collarbone. The Ancient symbol slipped out of his mouth before he could even register speaking it. “Mirtin.”

  Then, Tsalmit was gone.

  The knife slipped out of Aren’s hand as he dropped to his hands and knees, overcome with exhaustion. He could recall nothing except the comforting darkness that enveloped him.

  Remedy

  ONE

  Tanghi watched as Taia shook her head in disbelief. She was tracing lines against a large map-like document she had rolled out over Alaric’s desk, checking them against the myriad of lines that glittered in the air around her. He wasn’t sure what the point was. Taia could trace all those fate lines from now until the end times, but she had no hold on the lines of the Unblessed. This had mattered little in the past, but after what he had witnessed in Tiede, the laws he had once known to be true on this world were breaking down little by little.

  “Where is she now?” Alaric asked, referring to Kaila. He hadn’t turned demon, but his black wings were out, restless and anxious.

  “I left her at the springs to sleep,” Tanghi answered, standing by the open window. “The blessing, the connection, took its toll on her. She’s in her elemental state.”

  Alaric stopped pacing and turned to look at Taia. “Is there any way for us to break the blessing?”

  “Why would you want to break it?” Tanghi asked before she could answer. “That link saved Vir, saved all of Tiede. If she didn’t see what the child Priestess saw, she couldn’t have warned them about the istoq. If she hadn’t been able to communicate to the boy through the Priestess, then he might not have figured out how to kill the creature.”

  “You are talking about one incident that played in our favor,” Alaric said as he approached him. “There are millions of outcomes for a million other situations where this connection could harm her.”

  “We only need to keep it secret from Aalae,” Tanghi countered.

  Tanghi had considered telling Alaric about how the child Priestess closed the istoq. At first, he thought Kaila was sending her powers through the link to the child. They knew of no other way to close an istoq, except with their powers or with magic. The strange thing was, Tanghi didn’t feel Kaila’s powers leave her, so it wasn’t Kaila who closed the istoq. The little girl had called on Tiede, the powers that lay within the land itself.

  He wondered if it had been Geir who had sent his powers. Geir held dominion over Tiede Wood and all its resources. Had he answered the child’s call? Even if he had, that begged the question: What power did the child have to call on a spirit as powerful as Geir? Tanghi had no explanation for Alaric, other than that the istoq had been small and closed on its own once the creature was killed.

  “Aalae must not know of this,” Alaric affirmed. He met Tanghi’s gaze, then Taia’s. Her look was one of defiance, but at last she gave a curt nod before returning to her lines. “I will see what I can find to undo the blessing. Perhaps there’s a curse to counter it.”

  Tanghi didn’t care for the sound of that but was in no mood to argue. His mind was too preoccupied with the boy, Aren. He was Unblessed and not a mage, yet he said and did things to destroy the creature that Tanghi could not explain. Kaila, too, had been speechless as they watched the battle play out through the looking glass. A few times, Tanghi was tempted to break the boy’s neck for his blaspheming tongue, but Kaila stilled him, reminding him that Aren was Unblessed and didn’t know any better.

  “Return to Trum when we’re done here,” Alaric said, interrupting Tanghi’s thoughts. “There’s only one tunnel left, and Geir and Sabana are going to smuggle the Priestesses out that way. There’s fighting on the other end, so I want you to cover their escape.”

  Tanghi nodded, eager to return to a fight that made sense.

  “How long before the mages finish off Trum and reach the edge of Thell?” Alaric asked.

  “A month, maybe less,” Taia said.

  “The House Lady?”

  “She won’t leave her people,
but she’s sending her youngest daughters away with her eldest son and one of the Priestesses. Their chances are slim.” Taia picked through books and papers on Alaric’s bookcases. “Their best options are Tennar and Rose for shelter, and those are Light.”

  “I want Kaila on that caravan with the House blood while Tanghi, Sabana, and Geir protect the House as best they can. She can get the bloodline safely to Rose.” Alaric folded his wings back.

  “Kaila will be pleased to know that you trust her enough to send her on this assignment,” Tanghi said.

  Alaric straightened up and met his gaze. “I want to keep her far from the child Priestess. I don’t want Aalae drawing any conclusions by their proximity. Also, having her in disguise with a caravan is relatively safe. Kaila wants to prove herself. Let’s see if she can get a handful of refugee children to Rose.”

  TWO

  Aren approached Vir’s study and peered inside. Vir was sitting at his favorite leather seat by the cold fireplace reading pages from a stack of papers and occasionally lifting his pen to sign one. Aren knocked on the doorframe and dropped to a knee, his fist over his heart.

  “Apprentice,” Vir said by way of greeting. “How’s Selina?” He indicated the chair across from him with his pen.

  Aren took a seat and leaned forward with his elbows propped on his knees, rubbing the fingernails of one hand against the nails of the other. “She’s doing well, my Lord. No lasting damage, nothing a little rest won’t heal.”

  Vir set his pen and papers down on the small table next to his chair. “Tiede has always revered her Priestesses, and she will be remembered in our history as possibly the most blessed of all.” He studied Aren for a moment. “What do you need, Apprentice?”

  “I just wanted to apologize for”—Aren looked up at the ornate ceiling and took a deep breath before dropping his head—“the mess.”

  The House had been in complete chaos the past two days. There were dead who needed to be honored, marked who needed to be freed, mages who needed to be executed. The House was also swarming with engineers and craftsmen, rebuilding what had been broken, updating whatever needed to be renewed. The former nursery-turned-storage-room was being redone, and Vir had consented to a few electrical and bioluminescent updates in rooms that had depended solely on fire, like his study.

  “What’s done is done and we are stronger for it. We have awoken from a long slumber,” Vir said.

  “But all those things I said…” Aren was flustered, still not feeling completely like himself. He was embarrassed that everyone had seen whatever it was he had become. Who was he? He didn’t know before, and he was even more confused now.

  “I don’t think anyone aside from Elder understood a thing you said.” Vir leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes as if to rest them. “He thinks you’ve come a long way in your language studies.”

  “And the message I read?”

  “The one which you swore yourself to secrecy?”

  “Yes.”

  “You are impossible, Apprentice.” Vir sat up, straightened his papers, and leafed through another batch. He sighed, changing the topic. “Counselor Darc and his daughter are preparing to leave for Illithe after the Priestess’s initiation ceremony. I’m also sending you to Rose.”

  Aren sat up. “Rose? Why, my Lord?”

  “Counselor Helmun is dead, and I had intended to send him.” He paused, then said, “I don’t want Rose to think I’m suspicious. Sending the Historian’s Apprentice on a scholarly mission won’t raise eyebrows. I just want you to observe and report if anything seems peculiar to you.”

  “I understand,” Aren said, the shock paralyzing him from saying anything further.

  Vir folded his arms. “I thought about sending Master Gryf with you, but to look at him Rose would know it was a show of force. Did you know he declined joining my elite Hunters? He said I’d benefit more from his training of future Hunters in the Guild than I would from adding him to my retinue. He’s right, of course. All that aside, I’m sending the younger Gerrit with you to Rose.”

  “Dane?” Aren perked up.

  “He’s not intimidating, and he’s a solid fighter in the event you end up in trouble. There will also be a Guard detail for Geyle.” Aren’s brows furrowed and he was about to speak, but Vir cut him off. “She’s been wanting to visit home for a while, and it sends a very comforting message.”

  “But the detainment—”

  “I’m hoping she can speak to her father and their Councils to end it,” Vir explained. “She’s going as Lady Tiede. They know that imprisoning her would be an act of war, daughter of Rose or not.”

  Aren wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of going on a trip with Geyle. He wondered if there was anything he could say to change Vir’s mind. “Is everything back to normal with you and the Lady? I don’t mean to be rude, but I’d rather avoid a predicament similar to the one that got me thrown in the dungeons.”

  Vir sounded tired. “It turns out that the liquid in the vial, while it was intended for a specific purpose which I won’t share with you, served another more important purpose. It counteracted the poison of the fumes I’d been breathing. Doctor Pember says that if it hadn’t been for her slipping the concoction in my drinks, I’d be dead.”

  THREE

  Aalae felt as though her entire world was falling apart. Tiede didn’t fall as she hoped it would, and after Alaric had found out about the counter spell that Rafi had placed on Tiede, he had been in a less than pleasant mood. She wished she knew how he had discovered it. She drifted through her luscious green gardens, crushing full blooms, thorns piercing her delicate hands.

  “I bring news,” Rafi said as he approached, his voice hesitant. When she didn’t say anything, he continued, making sure he didn’t trip on her trailing white gown, and sidestepping the blood that dripped from her fingers and would seed new plants. “Tanghi has rejoined the fight in Trum. Our Priestesses will make it out soon, I’m sure of it.” Still, she said nothing, keeping several steps in front of him. “The salves continue to work on Geir, and he doesn’t know it,” Rafi said, and she could hear his eager smile. “And the information he gave us on Kaila being in love—I think our opportunity to use it has come.”

  Aalae paused. “Tell me.”

  “Taia has just shared with me the most intriguing story…”

  FOUR

  Mercer waited for the Lady at the far western corner of the Wedge. He had spent days in hiding, nights cursing Aren’s name, Aren’s very existence. Everyone in Tiede or leaving Tiede was questioned on Mercer’s whereabouts. He was wanted on numerous counts, including attempting to kill the girl Trista, attacking Aren, and conspiring to bring about the downfall of Tiede. He had no way out of the city, and with the price on his head being so high, it was only a matter of time before someone decided to turn him in. So, when he received the note from the Lady, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

  She had detailed how she had slipped Copen the drug that killed him so he couldn’t give anything away; how Aren had discovered the man named Tun, the Catar; how Aren had destroyed the monster. Mercer wanted nothing more than to slit Aren’s throat himself, consequences be damned. If he could just kill Aren, it wouldn’t matter what happened afterward. The Lady must have anticipated his feelings, and she set up a time and place to meet him, to help him leave Tiede and keep him focused on the overall mission: to overthrow the gods.

  The sun was high, and two long shadows were cast down the street, alerting him to the presence of company.

  “Mercer,” the Lady’s voice called out. “It’s me. I’ve brought help.”

  He relaxed a little and stepped away from the building’s shadow. He watched the Lady approach, her features hidden within the hood of the Apprentice robes she wore for the occasion. Walking arm in arm with her was a tall, disheveled man of indiscriminate age. His scraggly hair—blond, copper, silver; it was hard to tell in the light—hung to his shoulders, and stubble littered his thin face, his high cheekbones. In
his free hand was a cane of ghostwood that he tapped about the cobblestones. His eyes were covered with a linen cloth.

  “I can get you out of Tiede,” the blind man said in a soft voice that Mercer strained to hear, “but I need something from you in return.”

  FIVE

  Kaila sat facing west at the foot of one of the spires atop the House of Tiede. She was taking a risk by leaving Mytanth, but Tanghi and the others thought she was asleep, recovering. She had been supposedly recovering for several nights now, but it wasn’t from any amount of energy she had expended communicating with Selina during the battle in Tiede. She just wanted to be alone, to feel the relief of Aren surviving, to try to understand the feelings she had for him, to start finding closure.

  Right now, she just wanted to be in his presence, to know that he was truly alive.

  Aren and Selina sat on the other side of the large spire facing east, staring out over the city towards the dark expanse of Tiede Wood. The sun was setting behind them, and tiny sparkles of stars winked in the darker parts of the sky. They had talked about the outcome of the battle in generalities, haunted by the deaths of so many of Tiede’s elite Hunters, trying to regain some sense of normalcy. The sea winds raced over the rooftop, shaking them from their reverie.

  “At least the voices are still,” he said after the winds calmed down. It was nice to have the silence in his head, but it made him wary as well. “Maybe when I go to Rose, I won’t hear them at all.”

  “Will you be safe?” she asked.

  He nudged her but she didn’t smile. Something in her eyes made her seem ten times her age. “I’ll be with Dane, and Lord Vir is sending the Guard with us to protect Lady Geyle. I’m more worried about you.”