Citadel of the Sky (Thrones of the Firstborn Book 1)

by Chrysoula Tzavelas

  **You see? I am trying to accustom myself to your needs. I do not suggest we go cut off their traitorous heads. But I do suggest that if you keep me near you, I may be able to nullify whatever their wizards might try as a neutralization tactic. I am a sky fiend, after all.**

  Tiana stared into the darkness. “What are you talking about?” She paused. “Were they talking about the Blood?” She gripped the blanket with her fists, thinking over the scraps she’d heard. Of course they were, even if she wished they weren’t. Then she said, “Why did you attack Cathay?” she whispered. “Why did you take over my body? How can I trust you?”

  **He was unsuitable,** the sword said pleasantly. **Does it matter? You won that struggle. I promise not to bite your companions, as long as you don’t try to give me to them.**

  “You have to stop calling me a ‘foolish child.’”

  **Yes, Tiana.** Goosebumps raised on her skin as the voice said her name. Was that really any better?

  “I’ll test this nullification thing, you know,” she warned.

  **Of course you will.**

  Tiana scowled into the darkness and then crawled out of the depression, pulling her sword Jinriki after her.

  Chapter 15

  Plaguestruck

  Kiar stood in front of Twist’s workroom door, confused. She was often confused around Twist, but it was different, this time. She had something to ask him about, but she couldn’t remember what it was. If only she could stop shivering, maybe she could remember why she was here. It was important, she was sure. If she didn’t tell him, it would be very bad. But for some reason, she’d forgotten. That was bad, too.

  She concentrated, trying to retrace her path here.

  * * *

  It was time to follow the path of the plague, inspecting the lines of contagion for any hints to the puzzle. Twist needed her help. She’d spend the day following the roads he’d outlined. Or had she gone on the circuit already?

  She thought she must have. Her clothes were stiff with sweat and her muscles ached. She smelled more like horse than human, too. But it was hard to think. The last thing she could remember was riding her horse home. And now she was here.

  Where was Spooky, her beautiful horse? Had she skipped through space like Twist? Wouldn’t he be impressed if she had? But she remembered she’d already tried that and he hadn’t been impressed, he’d been angry. So that couldn’t be it. That wasn’t important, and she knew she had something important to tell him.

  She stared into the dizzy blankness that blanketed most of her mind. There were shapes hidden under there. Shapes and time. She had gone out this morning. But— there’d been something in the road. She’d seen something in the road, as she was riding.

  Her teeth chattered together, which was annoying. She leaned her head on the door and tried again to remember how she’d gotten here from the road.

  Her vision was dark. A herd of cows had broken out of their pasture and wandered into the beaten road. Spooky wouldn’t move past them. He bucked and threw her. She got back on. But Spooky was strange now. He shied every other step. He wouldn’t mind. He hated her. He threw her again. She didn’t need him, anyhow. She walked. Voices followed her.

  Was she coming or going? Was it the night before after all? Twist had given her the map and he hadn’t smiled. She was to inspect the roads between the towns marked, looking for anything strange. She could do that. She and her beautiful horse, with his magical inscribed horseshoes.

  Her feet hurt. She looked at her hands. They were dirty, scraped. She could see the eidolon pulsing inside her. A wave of nausea rocked her and she hugged her stomach. But she had her satchel with her notes in it. She wasn’t walking now. Where were her guards?

  She was standing outside Twist’s door. That was where she needed to be. He’d want to know what she’d found. Did she already tell him? Jerya had asked her to work with him. Jerya relied on her. She was reliable.

  Her head hurt. She whimpered and raised her hand to knock on the door. Twist opened it.

  “Oh, no,” he said. “That shouldn’t have happened.” He pulled her into the workroom. Her father was there. Prince Yithiere. He was a prince, but she was only a Lady, because he wouldn’t admit she was his in public. But her mother was a housemaid, so surely she was grateful? She looked down. He gave her the best horse in the world, even though that horse threw her. He gave her puzzles to solve, even though he was a puzzle.

  Everything was out of order. A candle’s flame hurt her eyes, and an inscribed orb shed only darkness. A blue silk shirt was crumpled on the floor. Somebody could slip. It wasn’t fair. She tried to keep things tidy. She bit her knuckles. It hurt.

  “Kiar?” said Twist. She looked at the two men, and then let her satchel fall to the floor.

  “I made notes,” she said. “I talked to everyone who could talk. I knew what to look for. There were villages. Not isolated. Not patterned. Not a trail, not of a wandering you or me.” She giggled and then stopped.

  Twist’s hand went to her brow, and she reached up, took it in both her hands and laid it against her cheek instead. “Your hands are nice. So warm.”

  Yithiere said, “Is she sick?” He too moved closer to her, his eyes perfectly dark, his face expressionless.

  Twist said, “Oh, yes. I can see the taint all through her.” He patted her cheek. “Kiar, sweetheart, there was nothing?”

  Yithiere’s voice was very quiet. “You said this couldn’t happen. You said it only happened to peasants. Farmers. On farms.”

  Twist took Kiar’s hand again and drew her over to a wash basin. “Did you fall, Kiar?”

  “Spooky doesn’t like me anymore,” Kiar explained. “I had to leave him behind. I’m sorry, Father. Sorry for Father. Don’t you want to see my notes?”

  Twist shook his head, looking at Kiar, with the Logos shimmering in his eyes. “So far progressed….” he muttered. He addressed Yithiere, “I’ve interviewed dozens of plague victims. It’s a magical attack. I thought if anyone would be immune and forewarned, it would be her. But it’s… growing faster in her.”

  “What does that mean?” Yithiere demanded. Kiar reached up to touch Twist’s face. His cheek was much warmer than her hand, and he’d shaved today. She was so cold. She wanted to lean into him.

  “You’ve got mortal eyes, Your Highness. Use them.” He turned back to face Kiar, which she rather liked. “Kiar, why does your horse dislike you now? Where are your guards? Did something attack you again on the road?”

  She shook her head. “Just the screams, the screaming people. They didn’t attack me but it was—” she frowned. She couldn’t remember. There were voices screaming, faces huddled over blankets, rocking back and forth, but it was scattered and broken, on the other side of the great chasm in her memories.

  She peered into the chasm.

  * * *

  She was sitting down. Yithiere was standing behind Twist, who was kneeling in front of her, holding a bucket. Her father was angry. She could tell. It never touched his face but a white fire burned in his eyes and she could feel it in the phantasmagory. Twist said patiently, “Something happened on the road. What was it?”

  She smelled something sour and unpleasant. She tried to remember the road. A shape flashed in front of her eyes.

  * * *

  She retched into the bucket and only then remembered having done it before. Was it a few minutes ago? A few days? Did she have too much wine? She was so confused and she hated it. Her mouth flooded with saliva. She bit down on a scream, but it emerged as a whimper.

  Yithiere said, “Enough, wizard.” There was a growl under his voice and a wolf paced out of him. “She is suffering while you play these foolish games. She is not a specimen to be studied.”

  He looked around the room and the lilt of his voice changed. “Isn’t illness part of the Logos? We have only your word that this is family magic, and she’s always trusted you too much.” He tapped his fingers against his leg. He was counting. He always counted whe
n he was nervous.

  Twist wiped at Kiar’s mouth with his sleeve and said, “I’m not lying to you, Yithiere. My words are clear. There is no hidden meaning.”

  “There’s always a hidden meaning,” her father muttered. “You may hear what I cannot, wizardling, but you understand it no better than I.” He looked around again. “How do we cure this plague? You keep too many little secrets. Reveal this one, and I won’t ruin your game.”

  The pain in her head spiked and once again a terrible blinding image flashed in front of her face. She brought her hands up to her mouth, willing herself not to vomit. Why couldn’t she see inside her own mind? Was there a place within that was no longer hers? Was the plague a living thing? Could she describe it?

  * * *

  Her father was picking her up. She clutched at him, protesting feebly. She was getting his vest and tunic dirty.

  He said, very coldly, “You either know nothing or you have turned against us. But, because of past services, I shall assume you’ve merely gone stark raving mad. I’m not leaving my daughter in your care. Good day, sir.”

  Yithiere called her his daughter! She hugged him as he carried her out of the workroom. But it was sad that Twist looked angry again.

  Chapter 16

  Pretty Lies

  Jinriki insisted Tiana find the leatherworker who supplied the soldiers so she could get a baldric and a special scabbard. But, just to show him who was in charge, she ate lunch in the Morning Room first. She laid the bundled sword on the ground beside her.

  The kitchen was adjacent to the Morning Room. After a scullery girl had placed her plate before her, poured her wine, and left, Tiana said, “In the stories, magic swords are quite capable of resizing themselves from a needle to a… a really big sword. What’s wrong with you?”

  **I’m exactly the right size.**

  Tiana opened her eyes wide and gazed at the sword. “I was thinking I could just carry you around, rolled up in a blanket. You said you see through my eyes; you don’t need to be actually in my hand to do your nullification thing, do you?”

  **Yes. I do. You will carry me properly, and when we decide it is appropriate, such as when someone is making unwanted advances, you will take me in your hand, slide me from my scabbard, and let me guide your hand in the proper motions.** It paused and then added, **A few practice sessions will make it less disturbing. Perhaps after you dine?**

  Tiana choked down a swallow of wine and realized she was blushing. “That’s—I don’t think you had to protect monks from unwanted advances!”

  **No,** the sword said. **They were more likely to encounter thieves on the road and they were skilled in using me, as I recall. Much as your Cathay would be. But my memories are distant, and vague; I was never fully awake in their care. Perhaps I’m forgetting something that prompted that particular example. In any case, you are my bearer now, and pretty princesses are far more likely to encounter unwanted suitors, in many forms, than thieves.**

  “What about wanted suitors?”

  **Do you desire suitors?**

  “Well, yes!”

  **Ah. That could be awkward.**

  “Hey!” Tiana paused and lowered her voice again. “Just because I said I’d let you help me doesn’t give you the—” The Morning Room door opened and a servant peeked in. He met her eyes, puzzled.

  “Are things well, Your Highness? You raised your voice,” he explained.

  Tiana snapped, “I’m fine.” She made herself eat another bite of the chicken and rice, even though her appetite had vanished. The servant looked concerned but closed the door again. “Anyhow, carrying you around the way you want would completely mess up my dresses. And I’m not going to let you interfere with my suitors.”

  **You already allow nursemaids and bureaucrats to control who may approach you and who may not. Why them and not me?**

  Tiana ate another bite and then pushed the plate away. “Are you trying to make me lose you again? Why are you provoking me?”

  **Do you consider honesty provocation? I was not made for pretty lies.**

  Tiana stared at the sword, thinking of the poet at the reception. Then she muttered, “You all think knowing the truth is so easy.”

  After a moment, it said, **You are far better at the pretty lies than I. See this: even your Lisette is a caretaker. I have seen inside you, and Cathay as well. All your kin require caretakers, or else havoc would sweep indiscriminately across the land. You should not hide from this. Havoc is part of my nature as well, but when I am sheathed, I do not cut freely.**

  Tears stung the back of Tiana’s eyes. “That’s just it. I don’t need you to kill people. I do that just fine on my own. The other day—”

  **I am aware of that event. Here is the difference: I would have killed them all. Only by your strength of will would fewer have died.**

  Tiana’s breath quickened. That sounded almost heroic. It was a sky fiend, kept under control by her will, but sometimes, it might escape. When she was threatened or frightened, perhaps. The thought unrolled before her. She hadn’t killed two, but saved four, from a disaster of their own making.

  But would the mother and child who saw the bodies and the blood understand that? Would they still flee her gaze?

  Her stomach curdled. Jinriki was offering her a story, and she liked stories very much. But a performance only worked if everybody knew the script. “Truth is not easy, no matter what that poet thinks. I could say that, you could claim that, but I couldn’t make the audience believe it, because they already know what’s true.”

  **With time, and my assistance, you could teach them any script you wished. I am far more than an edge for cutting. I am the lens and the channel. I am the last voice of the secret knowledge. I am the sculptor of souls. This blanketed shape is but a small part of the whole of me. A world of power and knowledge has been lost while I was bound to sleep, with but time and your desire, much could be regained.**

  Tiana let the voice inside her head flow through her. It hinted at dazzling images of adventure, amusements, and accomplishments beyond anything the world now knew. It implied that she, Tiana, could be far greater than Shin Savanyel. She was more than capable of dreaming up details to match its words.

  Twist said, “Oh, there it is. Still carrying it in a blanket?” The Royal Wizard was standing at the side of the room. Tiana fell out of her chair, jolted from her daydreaming.

  “Well, it’s useful for finding you in the Palace, no matter what you wrap it in. I hope it’s behaving?” Twist’s speech was more hurried than usual. “No blood, I see. Good. I need your help. Kiar is sick with this wretched plague, and Yithiere has taken her away, into the fortress.” He frowned at the sword.

  Tiana recovered herself and demanded, “What can I do?”

  The wizard’s gaze snapped back to Tiana and he said, “Your uncle would protect Kiar from the only treatment I can imagine. The plague is like an eidolon to the Logos-sight. Defeating it requires the family magic, not the Logos. Can you locate him?”

  That was when the ghost woman stepped out of Twist, pulling herself out of his skin. Tiana felt sick and vehemently hoped she’d never see the bones beneath Twist’s face again. The ghost’s hair swirled around her, her bare toes just brushing the floor she drifted above. Tiana snatched up Jinriki and edged away.

  Twist said, “What’s the matter? Why—” He cut himself off, pressing his lips together.

  The ghost’s eyes were white. She stretched out her hand to Tiana. Tiana swallowed and said, “Nothing!”

  She squeezed her eyes shut as a ghostly hand passed through her body and tried to focus. “Kiar’s the one who knows all the locks, but I might be able to force my way in. Um. I don’t know if he’s prepared for that. He might be.” She opened her eyes enough to peek. The ghost was standing right in front of her, tilting its head from one extreme to another as it stared at her. She closed her eyes again hastily, but not before she saw her own wrist bone.

  Twist sighed. “I see that dealing w
ith the fiend is taking up a lot of your attention. I shouldn’t distract you from that. Keep up the good fight and so forth. Somebody else is sure to help.” He vanished from the room before she could protest.

  **An interesting trick with the Logos. That wizard may become a problem. By the way, the woman that your eyes perceive is not real.**

  “I know that!” Tiana snapped. She backed up, eyes still closed, waving Jinriki in front of her. She was horrified that Twist thought she was mad, but she’d lose her lunch if she saw the ghost’s passage.

  **Fascinating. There is nothing to see when your eyes are closed.**

  She opened her eyes. It was a mistake.

  The ghost was still there. Tiana waved Jinriki and saw the glint of the glass labyrinth within the shape of the blade. Then the ghost woman stepped forward, and Tiana could take no more. She fled the labyrinth and the ghost, into the phantasmagory.

  It was moving around her, surging like water on a stormy day. She stood in the shallows and watched debris left by others bob to the surface. A decapitated head floated past, forever screaming. A book with half its pages ripped out, a bear’s severed foot, a shield in which blood pooled, the torn wing of the Secondborn Ashadel, three iron nails floating in a black chalice. Nightmares. She pushed them away.

  Then the ghost was there as well. It held her in a motherly embrace. Tiana wriggled, and the woman responded by pushing her shoulders and head down. The water became upsettingly real. Tiana was being drowned by the ghost woman.

  A masculine voice spoke. “Madness.” The water turned to clouds of hissing vapor. The woman pushing Tiana down looked up and frowned. It was a terrible, frightening expression, and Tiana squirmed away from her grip, pretending she was a fish like Shanasee. It didn’t change her shape—nothing ever changed her self-perception in the phantasmagory—but the woman lifted her strong hands away and swept her arms through the rising billows of steam.