Chapter 19
The Catalog of Nightmares
Three days after the Blight was born, Tiana curled on a couch in the Blood’s Hall and listened to Trace tell his story for the fourth time. The last time she’d been here, she’d been nine years old and snuggled up to Jerya while the adults discussed the enemy. Now, she was grown, and Jinriki was in her lap.
Then, as now, Yithiere stood over the map of Ceria marked with the approach of the Blight. It’d been to the north and outside the borders last time, an army raised by a Logos-worker who wanted the Citadel of the Sky. This time, it was inside Ceria, and she didn’t know what it was.
Before, Rinta had overseen the Catalog of Nightmares, but she was gone now. Kiar stood at the table in Rinta’s place, frowning and taking notes as Trace spoke. The Catalog itself was an enormous tome of fantastic creatures invented and compiled by one Amantha Savanyel. They were all quite imaginary, but it was a useful naming tool when a Blight brought a new kind of creature into Ceria.
This Blight brought at least six.
Kiar, still pale from her illness, finished marking down potential names and said, “I found this, and it seemed appropriate for the area around the stronghold. The Glooming?” She looked at Jerya for approval.
Jerya said briskly, “That sounds just like what was described.” She nodded a dismissal at the messenger.
Tiana frowned. It seemed to her that Jerya was inappropriately pleased by this invasion. She was the one who had insisted on the full family gathering in the Blood Hall, even though the Blight hadn’t been ratified in the Justiciar’s Court yet. They conspire against us, she’d said. You heard them yourself.
Trace, who carried letters for Jant, had come straight to them, as fast as he could through the chaos. Tiana wasn’t at all pleased by the Blight, but now that it had happened, she admitted to herself a certain, unexpected excitement at the thought of riding out.
“Is it just me, or did this happen awfully fast on the heels of Tomas….” Cathay’s fists clenched as he paused. “On the heels of all the Regent deaths? Like it was planned?”
Yithiere said, “Of course it was planned. We must—”
Jerya’s voice cut across her uncle’s. “It may have been planned. Yithiere will investigate that angle further and present his findings to us. But for now….”
“Yes, now what?” Tiana asked. Her throat and mouth were almost healed, and she was glad she could talk again without too much pain. The day before had been unpleasant. Even Kiar had given her a bit of a lecture on foolhardiness, and Tiana couldn’t defend herself at all without feeling the price she’d paid.
But Kiar had scolded her, and that was worth it. That very morning, Twist had reported other people were recovering too, and that was worth a nemesis beast roaming the world. It had to be.
Jerya said, “Now we gather more intelligence.” Yithiere nodded approvingly. He was better rested than the last time Tiana saw him. With a Blight on, that made no sense at all, she thought.
Tiana said, “That sounds interesting. Sneaking around in the dead of the night, that kind of thing?”
Jerya gave her that look she hated. “Not for you. You’re busy keeping that fiend in check. I hope. So, you’re not going anywhere.”
Tiana protested, “It’s in check! It can help us.”
Jerya shook her head. “Perhaps later. There’s too much we don’t understand at this time and with the phantasmagory still plague-tainted, our communications are crippled. We’ll use the Regency scouts.”
“The Regency has scouts?” Tiana blinked and turned to look at the guards near the door. She’d forgotten.
Jerya just sighed and looked down at the map, which stung. She looked at her father, who was sitting at the old throne at the head of the table, fidgeting with his fingers. He had only four eidolons out today. He looked up and gave her a half-smile. “They’re very useful, my dear.”
“And loyal,” said Cathay.
“We hope,” said Yithiere.
Jant was huddled in another corner, holding an open umbrella. Shanasee and Cara flanked him protectively; he was a tiny old man. “About the phantasmagory,” he said. “I think the taint is increasing, not decreasing. But it’s not affecting our magic. It’s hard to get out if the descent is uncontrolled, but we’re not crippled.”
“There are biters,” said Gisen. “Avoidable.” Everybody looked at her, and she blushed.
Jerya said, “The initial moments of the invasion map to when the phantasmagory pulled everybody in the other day. Great-Uncle, can you discover if that was a warning or something more ominous?”
There was a knock at the door, and then it opened. Lady Rosalyn of the Justiciar’s Council peeked in, looking worried. “I’m not here to disrupt. I’d like to talk.”
Jerya said, “Come in, Your Excellency. We were just discussing the Blight. You’ll officially hear all about it at the next Council session.” Her smile was hard.
Lady Rosalyn’s mouth twitched. “Yes.” Her gaze traveled around the room. “I’ve spent too much time with Etra to think their games are worth playing at this point.” Etra had been Aunt Rinta’s Regent and served as one of the younger generation’s tutors. She was also Lady Rosalyn’s particular friend.
Jerya raised her eyebrows. “Games?”
Lady Rosalyn coughed and said, “Your Royal Highness, your diplomacy is admirable, but there is trouble on the Justiciar’s Council. I might even go so far as to say a rift is developing. We had news of the Blight yesterday from a private source.” She paused to let that sink in. “There are those who will happily provide alternatives if the Blood is demonstrably unable to protect Ceria.”
“Vassay,” said Twist. He was leaning against a wall.
Lady Rosalyn glanced at him. “Vassay has a large population of Logos-workers. They’ve done some amazing things. Everybody’s heard of the weather shield. They also have a much smaller fiend problem.”
Dryly, Jerya said, “I was taught that was because they were farther from the Holy Mountain, but the weather feat is certainly impressive. Are they offering to defend us from our fiends and solve our Blights as well?”
Lady Rosalyn said, “Not yet officially, Your Highness. But they’re eager to have something to offer Ceria. Their Logos initiations require more plepanin than they can acquire, and that’s not even considering inscriptions.”
It only took a single dose of plepanin to awaken a person to the Logos, but plepanin also powered inscribed effects, Logos-working that anybody could activate. Because the Citadel only produced a very limited amount of plepanin each year, inscribed objects and tools were luxuries and treasures.
Jerya narrowed her eyes. “That motivation sounds very like a burgeoning Blight under a genteel façade. Are they offering this assistance or has someone solicited it?”
Lady Rosalyn shook her head. “I can’t say, Your Highness. I haven’t been communicating with them. But I know there are those in the Justiciar’s Court who welcome them.”
Tiana thought of the voices she’d heard in the Catacombs again. Had one of them been on the Council?
Lady Rosalyn went on. “There have even been those in the Regency Court who have sought to relieve the exclusive burden borne by the Blood.” Her gaze drifted to the King, who was fidgeting with his fingers.
Jerya said, “A noble aim for the Regency Court. I’m sure nobody would misdirect such a pure ideal.” Without transferring her gaze from the Justiciar, Jerya said, “Twist, why did the Council’s private sources know about the Tranning situation before we did?”
Blithely, Twist said, “The Royal Courier service neglected to acquire inscribed horseshoes?”
Jerya glanced at him sharply. “You don’t need inscribed horseshoes.”
Twist half-smiled. “I know it may appear otherwise, but I must confess: I haven’t yet worked out the trick to being multiple places at once.”
Jerya had two spots of color high on her cheeks. “Tell me, are you in contact with the
Vassay Logos-workers?”
Twist said, “Nope. They’ve rejected the teachings of the Citadel. They’ve thrown out the traditional master-apprentice relationship for a one-to-many approach. Lecture halls and a standard curriculum. Many annual initiation attempts.”
Jerya raised her eyebrows. “I see. Innovators. And they are achieving great things with this approach?”
Twist waved away the Vassay great achievements. “They’re able to manipulate large forces, but at the expense of the individual gifts fostered by the traditional methods of instruction. All of their Logos-workers have exactly the same capacities.”
“They wrote you a letter,” said Kiar suddenly. “I remember. Two years ago.”
Twist laughed. “Yes. They’ve had a tiny amount of success incorporating some individual gifts into their curriculum. This encouraged them to write every Logos-worker of any renown, inviting them to share their secrets. I refused.”
Jerya said, “Could they be spying on Ceria via the Logos? If not with your trick, with another?”
Twist considered. “I’ll look into it.”
Jerya transferred her gaze back to the Lady Rosalyn, her eyes hard and bright. “You did the right thing.”
Lady Rosalyn smiled. “Others will disagree. The Council will not hesitate to use any out-of-order detail to postpone ratification of the Blight and ceding the resources. I hope His Majesty will be able to observe all the formalities.”
The King was walking his fingers under an arch made by the hands of two of his eidolons, but he looked up when he felt the stares on him. “Oh, I’m sure everything will be just fine. After all, they were always so nice to Tomas.”
Chapter 20
Fiends and Biters
The next day, the Court was not in session, which gave them time to prepare. Well, it gave Jerya time to prepare. Lisette was helping her, doing research, discussing precedents and politics. And Tiana was kindly encouraged to quietly entertain herself in the Palace.
Without Lisette, she stayed in her suite, feeling neglected and irritable. She understood why Jerya needed Lisette’s help, and she was so very glad Lisette hadn’t been struck down like Iriss, who remained cold and pale and dreaming in her chamber.
Tiana was happy to make the sacrifice, but she wasn’t used to being alone. Even Jinriki was relatively quiet. She told herself she was happy about that, but even she knew it was a lie.
She spent some time with the plays and fairy tales on her bookshelf, but those stories of things she wasn’t doing just made her grumpier. She went from a sense of noble self-sacrifice to wishing Iriss was better for entirely selfish reasons. Jerya was so stodgy now and even if she insisted on being stodgy, Iriss would have kept company with Tiana while Lisette, more politically minded than Iriss, helped Jerya.
She drifted over to her desk and considered the letters she could write, but that didn’t interest her either. While there, she noticed the wooden box where she’d tucked away the twin to the Royal Pendant.
They’d hardly had time to theorize on what it was. Connected, somehow, to Tomas’s death, she knew. And perhaps to the plague, perhaps to the Blight? They all thought everything was about eidolons, but that made no sense.
Idly, she unlatched the box. The big opal necklace was still there, nestled on some crumpled satin scraps. Kiar had said it was made of eidolon stuff, but it looked real to Tiana. Kiar seemed to see eidolons everywhere these days. And if it was somehow an eidolon object, who was maintaining it? Eidolons didn’t wander around independently, no matter what some of her relatives’ crazy theories were.
She’d seen a phantasmagory memory of a pendant, down at the bedrock of dream. And if even the phantasmagory remembered the pendants, it couldn’t be a simple eidolon. Could it? How could it have lasted?
**You have never made an eidolon successfully, Princess. What would you know?** Jinriki told her, with that undercurrent of laughter in his voice.
“Shut up! That just means I have a unique point of view on the subject. Maybe I can learn something from it that no one else could.”
**Oh, if it entertains you, by all means carry on. I’m curious myself.**
She scooped the pendant up. Thorns bit into her hand and she immediately flung it away from her. It thumped on the carpet, and she peered at her hand. She didn’t seem to have any new injuries, and the sensation had faded as soon as the pendant left her hand.
She narrowed her eyes and muttered, “Why do all my new toys bite?” She picked up Jinriki and walked over to the pendant.
**Whatever it is, it doesn’t bite for the same reasons I do.** Tiana inserted the point of the blade under the necklace chain and lifted it up.
“You said you’d protect me. So what is this thing? Father has one just like it. That one’s been in the family for centuries. But this one was locked away in the catacombs.”
**What happened when you touched it?**
“It bit me. Black thorns. It didn’t bite last time I touched it.” She deposited it on the bed but left Jinriki’s tip touching it. “It’s not biting you now?”
**No. How did you know the thorns were black?**
Tiana frowned. “I don’t know. Wait, I do. It felt like the phantasmagory felt before.” She plumped up a pillow and settled herself against it, still holding Jinriki. Then she opened herself to the other world just long enough. “Like it feels now.”
**My, how interesting. You haven’t returned to the phantasmagory since the plague. Are you frightened?**
“No! I’m just….” Tiana searched for an excuse that would still allow her to appear plucky, “…trying to be nice to you. Because you don’t like it when I’m there.”
**How very kind. It must be hard on you.**
Tiana smiled, pleased. “Oh, yes. But I can endure.”
**Very brave. But here, you should return to it, and I will endure for a while. It’s only fair.**
Tiana’s smile turned to a scowl. “What are you up to?”
**Go to the phantasmagory and perhaps you’ll see.**
She stared at the blade and then relaxed against the pillows.
The light floating of previous days seemed gone without hint of return; this time she fell like a rock. There were hooks on the surfaces she fell past, but they were small and easy to avoid. When the hooks ended, so did the fall, and she felt the wind of a nighttime city street blow through her, with the remembered scents of wine and jasmine. An indistinct shape beside her opened argent eyes.
“You see, the jewel is connected to your dream world somehow. I am not blind now.” It was Jinriki’s voice.
Tiana startled, remembering again the dream she’d seen deep in the phantasmagory days ago. Thorns—no, hooks—sunk into her in response. She concentrated, calmed herself, and the tiny biting things pulling at her loosened and drifted away. “This is our safe place. It shouldn’t be unfriendly now.” Her fierceness pooled around her as she attempted to impose her will on the space around her. In response, the hooks swarmed her again.
All over, she felt pricks of searing pain. She concentrated harder, and there was more pain in response. Then the city street rolled away, like a change of sets in the theater. The curtain of darkness fell and then rose on a river scene at dawn. The hooks were still biting her. But the rosy light of the sunrise radiated from her. The indistinct form of Jinriki drifted nearby, argent eyes in black smoke.
Encouraged by her success at changing the landscape, she concentrated again. “Mine!” she insisted again. “No biting. All you hooks, you biting fleas, you can just die.” She spread her hands and pushed a wave of rose fire away from her. It was exhausting, but for a moment she thought she’d banished the hooks. Then agony swept over her.
“Stop. Stop it.” The black smoke that was Jinriki moved over her, as another person might take her arm. “You fool, stop it. You can’t fight it like that.”
The hooks dug under her skin and pulled from every imaginable direction. She shifted, twisted, and was pulled ever harder. Pani
c rushed up from her gut. What if she couldn’t escape? If she couldn’t burn them away, if she couldn’t fight, she would be caught here, pulled apart, lost, broken, dead.
No! She couldn’t bear it! Fear made her strong again and again bloody fire exploded around her.
The moment of pain was endless.
She was being taken apart. She fought back! She would keep fighting—
Her volition vanished.
“If you struggle, you will die. That is unacceptable. Your strength is impressive. Conserve it, you mad little fool.” There was some new emotion in Jinriki’s final phrase. Was he angry? Tiana realized that the paralysis was fading and so was the pain.
“Calm yourself. Be peaceful. Be as the shadow. They are drawn to your fire and energy, so douse it.” His voice was modulated, calm again.
Calm? How could she be calm? But she tried to dim her fire, open herself to the wind. More and more points of pain dissolved as she did so. As she released her will, the river sunrise reverted back to the night city, a gradual transformation. Finally, she stood in darkness again, breathing carefully, lightly, and it was as if the pain had never been.
“What are they?” she whispered.
“I don’t know. I don’t see them when you’re calm. Is there anybody else here?”
Tiana shuddered. “Gisen said something about biters.” She looked around, tried to ease her perceptions out. “I can’t tell.” Then she saw a figure moving down the abandoned night streets. She didn’t recognize it, until she saw it drift through a cart abandoned in the middle of the road. Then she said, “Her.” It was the ghost woman.
She moved closer to Jinriki’s immaterial cloud, a little too fast, and felt the biters. She released her energy again and breathed, “She doesn’t do much for my sanity.”
The ghost woman moved closer, though she didn’t seem to notice Tiana or Jinriki. Tiana stayed quite still, hoping that wouldn’t change.
Citadel of the Sky (Thrones of the Firstborn Book 1) Page 20
