~~~
Aysu stood in her study facing the blank Scrolls on the rear wall. They had been silent since Nia’s invasion of the Citadel. Without the Scrolls she had no access to the kind of wisdom and prophecy Kyreth had made frequent use of and she knew that as a result many of the Mancers considered her leadership to be sorely lacking. Until now, she had not even been able to compel the Sorceress to return. Though it was due to Kyreth that Eliza had left in the first place, that seemed to have been forgotten. As the majority of the Mancers now saw it, when Kyreth was Supreme Mancer the Scrolls spoke and the Sorceress lived in the Citadel and all was as it should be. At least Eliza was back now. That was good.
“Indeed, the Sorceress and the Mancers have been linked since the beginning,” said Kyreth. Aysu tensed. He had been Listening to her thoughts again. “But why do you think she has come? And how long do you think she will stay?”
Aysu turned. He sat on the other side of the desk. The desk that had been his, once. He had destroyed it and, though it had been repaired, the cracks still showed. She would have liked to resist, for she longed to rest, truly rest, but she found herself looking reluctantly into his eyes. They were so hot and bright. They held her fast.
“Why she has come…” she repeated dully.
“The important fact is that she is here, and now,” said Kyreth. “We cannot allow the opportunity to pass. We must act quickly. Do you understand me, Aysu?”
And how could she fail to understand? His will was sharp and steely as a blade. Tormented shadows clung to it. When faced with a will so terrible, so unfaltering and sure, what could she do but submit?~~~
The following day, Eliza did not go immediately to the Library for her lesson with Foss. She went out into the grounds and climbed the great oak tree. The tree fort she and Charlie had built still hung from its uppermost branches. From there she had a good view of the Inner Sanctum. When the gong rang, the Mancers filed out from every wing. There were more than two hundred of them, but she knew she would recognize Kyreth, even from afar, when she saw him. She did not see him among the manipulators of fire, water, metal and wood streaming out of each wing towards the white dome. Of course, the chambers of the manipulators of earth were within the Inner Sanctum and so she could not see them crossing the grounds. She realized she did not know to which group Kyreth belonged. She had only ever known him as the Supreme Mancer. When all the Mancers had disappeared into the Inner Sanctum and their chanting had begun, she climbed down from the tree and ran across the grounds to the Library. Foss was waiting for her there, his eyes bright with anxiety.
“I feared something had happened to you,” he said.
“Sorry,” said Eliza. The smell of the Old Books comforted her. This place had always felt like a sort of sanctuary, but it had changed too. The marble bookcases, rising up like sheer cliffs towards the ceiling far above, stood mostly empty. Books were piled around the bottom of the bookcases, Mancer-height, filling the aisles. She felt their emptiness.
“Those that are upright on the shelves have had their text returned to them,” said Foss, pointing at the stacks around them. “The books that lie in piles are still empty. Most of them, as you can see. Perhaps we can spend our afternoons with those.”
“I’d love to help you with it, Foss,” said Eliza. “But I might be doing other things, lah. Things you dinnay need to know about.”
“Indeed, it is best I do not know,” he said hastily. “Very well. Under the circumstances, the theory and practice of barriers seems a good beginning point for today’s lesson.”
Eliza laughed. Even though she knew he couldn’t protect her if the Mancers meant her ill, it made her feel safe to have Foss on her side.
“Foss, is Kyreth a manipulator of earth?”
Foss looked startled by the question. “No,” he said. “He is a manipulator of fire.”
“Then he doesnay work Great Magic with the other Mancers these days?”
“He does not.”
“Why?”
“I do not know,” said Foss. “I rarely see him. I feel his presence, sometimes, and the Curse upon him. I know he is here and working Magic of some kind. If he were a manipulator of water I would feel more.”
“Do you think the manipulators of fire feel a particular loyalty to him?”
Foss looked at her pleadingly, his eyes dimming to a pale yellow. “I do not know, Eliza.”
“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “One more question, and you dinnay have to answer it if it’s…difficult. Every day the Mancers do the Magic separating the worlds, nay? And from what I understand, which is nay much, lah, they call on the power of nature and transform it into Magic and the Supreme Mancer directs the Magic. Would it be possible for the Supreme Mancer to misdirect the Magic of the Mancers? Do something else with it?”
“Of course not,” said Foss. “No, no, Eliza, it is not so opaque as that. The spell separating the worlds was essentially completed by Karbek in the Middle Days. What we do is simply pour our Magic into that same spell to keep it working. We sow our Magic into Di Shang, deep into the world, so that it may pull apart from Tian Xia.”
“That doesnay make any sense,” said Eliza.
Foss looked startled. “It is Mancer Magic, Eliza Tok, and at a level you have not yet attained. Are you going to interrogate me further or shall we begin the lesson?”
She saw she had offended him and was immediately sorry.
“All right,” she said. “Let’s talk barriers, aye.”
~~~
Later that afternoon Foss made his way down a long hallway and knocked on the wall. A door appeared and opened. Inside the study Aysu sat hunched over the big marble desk. Her eyes were dim now, like echoes of light.
“Foss,” she greeted him. “Please sit. How is the Sorceress?”
“She is well, I think.”
“We are all pleased you were able to prevail upon her to return at last,” said Aysu.
Foss bowed and sat down.
“Do you think she will stay?” asked Aysu.
“I hope so,” said Foss.
“As do we all. Foss, I know you are fond of her but I ask you to consider the situation objectively for a moment. She is unreliable. She cannot be depended upon.”
Foss struggled to keep his expression neutral. “Perhaps you are unfair to her,” he said.
Aysu smiled but the smile was strained. “The Mancers have never been weaker than we are now. This is a dangerous time. These troubles with Kyreth have been demoralizing. We do not control our Sorceress. The Scrolls are silent since Nia broke into the Citadel. It is important that we work together towards a more stable future.”
“Of course,” said Foss cautiously.
“Good. As for the Sorceress: Eliza’s power is diluted, as you yourself can see, by her human father. She is not nearly as strong as past Sorceresses her age. Compare her to her mother.”
“Rea was unique,” interrupted Foss. “It is an unfair comparison.”
“Maybe so. That is not the point. I recognize that Eliza came to us at too great an age for her loyalty to lie entirely with us. Many exceptions have been made for her. But it is essential that her daughter be Mancer-born. On this we cannot compromise. And sooner is better.”
Foss had not been expecting this. In retrospect he realized he should have. But he could not hide the shock that appeared instantly on his face.
“She is not a child any longer,” said Aysu impatiently. “She is sixteen years old. That is old enough to marry and bear a child. So it was with the Sorceresses of ages past. We do not wish to force her into an unhappy marriage, naturally. And so I ask you to father the next Sorceress. Eliza cares for you, she trusts you. She will accept it.”
Foss staggered to his feet, nearly knocking over his chair.
“No,” he said. His tongue was like a stone and the word fell heavy from his mouth. “She is like a daughter to me. I cannot. And she is too young. She is still too young. I beg you…”
“Ve
ry well. Sit down, Foss.” Aysu gestured at the chair again and he sat. “We will not compel you. I only thought that you were the choice she herself would be happiest with. Obrad, of course, is eager for the honour.”
“She will not accept him,” said Foss.
“She has no choice,” said Aysu.
Foss stared into her suddenly too-bright eyes. They blazed with pain. He rose again, but slowly this time, reining in his outrage.
“Your Eminence,” he said very softly, “I think you are unwell.”
Aysu’s eyes flared up and died down again. “Your concern is unnecessary,” she said icily.
“Aysu.” He spoke almost in a whisper, leaning towards her over the desk. “Are you there, Aysu?”
She rose to her feet abruptly, backing away. “Enough, Foss. What is this?”
“Only the concern of a friend,” he said gently, his face full of compassion now. “You have been speaking with Kyreth.”
“As is only natural,” she retorted.
“You have been speaking with him too much. You are still strong, Aysu, and you may rely on the manipulators of water. If you need us, if you need our help, you need only to say so.”
Something in her seemed to crumble at his words. Her shoulders fell and she cast her eyes down at the desk.
“I am tired, Foss,” she said. “It is not easy.”
“Keeping him in check, you mean.” This was dangerous, Foss knew, but he felt a slow willingness in his old friend to speak about the matter. “Perhaps it was a mistake allowing Kyreth to stay among us. He will not be relegated to the sidelines. His influence is too strong for you to resist alone. You need help. I think we should discuss again whether it is safe to have him here among us.”
“We cannot cast him out,” said Aysu. She glanced about the room nervously, as if Kyreth might be watching them. “The Mancers would not accept it. You know as well as I do that he has the support of many of them. And it is only natural – there is no denying that things were better under his reign. Besides, he is…he is doing something important.”
Foss felt a chill. “I know the Mancers lend him power,” he said. “You have approved it. But to what end? It cannot be good.”
“Do not challenge me, Foss!” Aysu blazed, her spine straightening again. “It is my decision that Kyreth’s work be supported by the Magic of the Mancers and that the nature of it remain confidential for now. Believe me when I say it is something we will all be grateful for eventually.”
At this, Foss’s anger got the better of him. “If you mean summoning the Thanatosi, let me say now that I shall never be grateful for the calling forth of that murderous tribe!”
“Foss!” cried Aysu, turning very white. “What are you talking about? The Thanatosi? What do you mean?”
“Kyreth’s work…” Foss’s words died in his mouth. “You said…”
“I said nothing of the Thanatosi,” she said coldly. He felt her drawing away from him again and he feared he had handled the meeting very poorly indeed.
“I wish to rest. Leave me.” She waved her hand at him and sank back in her chair, touching her other hand to her forehead.
He had to conjure his own door on the way out.
~~~
Eliza waited until dark fell. She wanted to explore a bit while the Mancers were sleeping and less likely to notice her movements. All afternoon she had stayed out of the way, lurking about the Library. Whenever she encountered a Mancer she saw the relief in their faces as they bowed to her and welcomed her back. It made her uncomfortable. She felt like a hypocrite smiling and thanking them, simultaneously guilty about her deceit and furious at the possibility that this Mancer or that may have been involved in summoning the Thanatosi.
She walked swiftly down the hallway to the southeast tower. According to the Chronicles of the Sorceress, her grandmother Selva had been killed in an attempt to steal one of the four Gehemmis, gifts of the Ancients, from the Realm of the Faeries. But Eliza was sure she was alive. She had seen her. Her grandmother had saved her from harrowghasters. Her only regret in leaving the Citadel behind had been the thought that she would never know what had truly happened to her grandmother. Now she was going to put that right.
Many Mancers, Foss included, doubted the very existence of the Gehemmis. The Chronicles had it that a Sorceress named Lahja had successfully retrieved one Gehemmis from the Horogarth of Tian Xia four thousand years ago. If her grandmother was indeed alive and in the Citadel, if the Gehemmis existed, and if one of the Gehemmis was in the possession of the Mancers, these were secrets Kyreth had guarded very carefully, not only from Eliza but from the other Mancers. Eliza needed to know his secrets. She would begin with the only secret she had caught a glimpse of: Selva, her grandmother, Kyreth’s wife, and the former Shang Sorceress.
She reached the tower and paused. There was no way to enter without alerting the Mancers. She pressed her forehead to the wall, closed her eyes, and opened her mind to Deep Listening. Are you there? She reached with her mind. Grandmother? Are you there?
To her amazement, the wall fell away instantly. She stumbled and found herself in the flower gardens of the Citadel in broad daylight. Her grandmother Selva was approaching her, smiling. Her cropped hair shone white in the sun and her black robes flowed about her. She carried a white staff the length of her forearm and a long serpent lay across her shoulders, tongue flickering. Bees buzzed around her face and limbs.
“What happened?” asked Eliza, stunned at how easy it had been. “Where are we?”
“Isn’t it interesting?” exclaimed Selva. More bees abandoned the flowers and swarmed about her face as if she was made of nectar, but she didn’t seem bothered. “I didn’t think anybody else could come here with me. Sometimes I wish he would come; I walk and wait for him, but he cannot. I suppose it’s because he is not a Sorceress. I miss walking in the garden with him. When I was a young girl about your age, we walked together for hours and he told me so many things, so many things! This is my sweet relief and I can find my words more easily but always I have to go back and then there are rats and I don’t know what I am saying. He comes and I am not myself. He is not himself either. But you, you are so whole, and you have found your Guide, dear girl! I am so glad for you.”
Eliza realized that a large raven was perched on her own shoulder.
“Are you in the tower?” she asked.
Selva glanced back at the large white tower that shone in the sunlight. Bees formed a noisy halo about her head. The serpent slithered down her body and lay coiled about her feet.
“Do you know,” said Selva then, not answering the question, “he says that I am under a Curse!”
“Yes,” said Eliza. “Is it nay true?”
“A Faery Cursed me,” said Selva dreamily. “Jumbled my mind! But there are no accidents. Don’t be fooled. Now every stone and every tree has secrets to tell me. I know about you. I know all about you. I watch you and I am so proud, so proud. Look at that brave girl, I think to myself.”
“I want to help you,” said Eliza.
Her grandmother laughed and gave a little caper. “It is lovely in this garden!” she said, plucking a flower. The flower wilted at once and turned ashy grey. The garden shimmered and darkened for a moment.
“Careful, careful,” whispered Selva. She came creeping closer to Eliza on her bare feet. “It is I who will help you. Oh, we cannot stay long, we cannot stay. They say a gift may be a curse, but a Curse may be a gift as well, and who is to say? Am I under a Curse, or is the Curse under me, holding me up where I can see things? I know secrets. I know who is in that tower.”
She pointed at the northeast tower.
“Who?” asked Eliza.
Her grandmother winked. “I will ask the stones to show you. They are my friends and I can go where I like. I am a part of this place. They think it is their place. Well, so it is, so it is. Simathien built the Citadel but did not Zara help him? This place is loyal to us as well. Ah, the stones will tell me things and I
can speak to marble and gold and I can crawl inside the walls and look out. It’s a shame, that other one, the bad apple, she used me you know, trampled right over me, got inside. Got to him. I couldn’t help him but I helped you, didn’t I? Never mind, all done, all finished. I can come to the garden whenever I want, stop it, stop it!” The bees were swarming about her face now. “I can’t see you!” she cried to Eliza. The flowers all around them were wilting, dipping, turning black. The grass melted to tar and the sky went fast from day to night. The bees formed a dark cloud all around Selva but with her staff she pointed to the northeast tower. The sky crumbled into dust and Eliza found herself still in the dark hallway with her forehead pressed to the wall of the tower. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts.
“Thank you,” she whispered, running a hand along the wall.
To reach the northeast tower she had to go through the portrait galleries. It was an eerie feeling, all those Mancer eyes watching her from the paintings as she ran by. By the time she had passed through all the galleries she was out of breath. She slowed as she came to the narrow hallway that wound around the outside of the tower and joined with the north wing and the Library. She touched her fingers tentatively to the wall of the tower. It parted before her. She cringed, expecting a siren to go off, but there was no sound. The Citadel itself was working this Magic on her behalf, or on her grandmother’s.
It was dark and cold inside the tower. She was standing on a broad stone ledge that ran full circle round the inside wall. There was a gap of a few feet between this ledge and a spiral staircase that wound up the center of the tower. There seemed to be a ledge like this one at the level of each floor of the Citadel. She jumped from the ledge to the staircase, wondering whether to go up or down. There was a rush of wings up ahead of her and so she went up.
She had been climbing for quite some time when she rounded the final curve and almost hit her head on the solid stone ceiling. The staircase simply stopped, going nowhere after all. She sat down on the steps to catch her breath. She felt something crawling inside her sleeve suddenly and shook it. A bee flew out and straight up, disappearing through the ceiling. Eliza nearly laughed. When she touched the ceiling, two stones parted quietly. She climbed through the narrow space and into a broad, circular room lit with lamps. Lying huddled on a divan, teeth chattering, clutching a book to his chest, was Malferio, once King of the Faeries.
Bone, Fog, Ash & Star Page 5
