by Jack Conner
Avery was shocked to see the faintest ripple of air about Layanna. She was actually preparing to bring her other-self over. Against Hildra.
Janx saw it, too, and Hildra as well. Both jumped to their feet. Hildra broke her beer bottle against the table and held the jagged shards up in defense.
“What’s going on, Papa?” Ani said, eyes huge.
Avery forced himself to speak normally. “Layanna. Please. We’re all friends here.”
Layanna glared at Hildra, then switched her gaze to him. He nodded. Gradually, she relaxed, and the rippling in the air faded.
“Damn it all,” Janx said, and his face had gone ashen. “I never thought I’d see the day. After all we’ve done for you, darlin’.”
Even after Layanna relaxed, Hildra didn’t drop her bottle.
“Fuck you, bitch.”
Layanna visibly suppressed a retort. After a moment, she said, “I suppose I deserved that.”
“Fuck this,” Hildra said, and stormed toward the door, tossing the bottle on the floor as she went.
“Hildra,” Avery said. “Don’t. Please—”
She spun back. “You better get your bitch under control, bones, or this thing is gonna go tits-up before it even begins.”
With that she was gone, slamming the door behind her. Janx crossed to the door, as well, then paused and gestured for Ani to follow him.
“Come on, girlie. Your pops and Auntie Lay need to work some stuff out.” He caught Avery’s eye, and reluctantly Avery nodded. Ani joined Janx, and together they slipped out, leaving Avery and Layanna alone with each other. Rain beat against the window, slowly and incessantly.
Hearing the chair creak under him, Avery turned back to her. With cold blue eyes, eyes he had once found beautiful, she watched him. Rain tapped against the windows.
He opened his mouth to speak. “Layanna—”
She waved a hand, silencing him. “Do you love me?”
“What?”
“I said, Do you love me?”
“I ... heard you.” Gods, not this. “Do you love me?”
Instead of answering, she said, “You professed your love to me. Then you slept with her.”
“Yes ... well ... there were circumstances.”
“Such as?”
Such as I love her, gods help me. “Our lives were threatened. There was danger. Our adrenaline levels were elevated. It was only natural for our other hormones to spike, too.”
“Is that all it was?”
“How is any of this relevant, Layanna? We were discussing whether you would help us or not. Surely you see that if we don’t strike at the R’loth now, right now, they’ll strike at us, and their blow will be devastating. It might very well wipe out humanity, as well as any other sentient life on the planet. You sacrificed so much to save that life; surely you won’t let it go out now?”
Rain beat at the windows. She watched him. She seemed to have endless patience, like a lizard. Under her reptilian scrutiny, he began to sweat. He could feel the shirt under his armpits sticking to him.
“Well?” he said.
“Francis,” she said, speaking slowly, “what you say is true, to an extent. I did sacrifice much to aid your people, but what you’re asking now goes beyond that. You’re asking me to sacrifice my people.” Reiterating, she said, “To sacrifice my people for your people.”
He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. “What other choice is there?”
“Obviously, to let my people prevail.”
The world tilted around him. “You can’t! You wouldn’t.”
“We are a higher-level species, arguably more deserving of survival.”
“They’re evil.”
Layanna leaned back. “There is no evil, Francis.”
He had said much the same thing earlier, but now he saw the flaw in it. “Then there is no good, and I refuse to accept that.”
“I reject your human concepts of morality, Francis. No. You must give me something more.”
“More? What more can you possibly want? You’re a god. Hell, you’re the single god of your own religion.”
“I want love.”
He stared at her. The women in his life had suddenly gone insane. Was something in the air that he wasn’t aware of? Could it be the rain?
Languidly, she poured herself another glass of wine. “I sacrificed my position, my friends, even my own son for your cause, Francis. Even my former husband Davic has turned against me. He tried to eat me. I have nothing now. Nothing in this world to call my own. You say I am a god. A god of what? Mortals that do not know me, can only worship me from afar. The one human contact I had remaining in this world, the one thing I had left to tie me to it, betrayed me for a deceitful, murdering sociopath.” Her eyes speared into his. “Now do you see?”
He blinked. Damn it all. The horrible truth was that he did see, or was beginning to.
“I have nothing left, no hold on your cause or people,” she continued. “My own worshippers are little more than food to me. There is Ani, but she is outside humanity, too, and does not bind me to it. She and I are both alone. Even when we are together, we are alone. You were all I had left. I lost you. Now you ask me to give up my own people for you. Don’t you realize how insane that is? How illogical?”
It was his turn to study her. He felt a trembling in his fingers and tried to stop it. “Layanna ...” His voice squeaked. He tried to wrestle it under control. “Layanna ...”
“Yes?” Lizard-like, she waited.
“What if ...” Can I really go through with this? “What if you did have me?”
“What do you mean?”
“We ...” He leaned forward, maintaining eye contact with her. Injecting as much warmth as he could into his tone, he said, “What if we were together again?”
She frowned, looking thoughtful, perhaps even, he dared to believe, hopeful. “Is this ... possible?”
He made himself smile. “I’m the one that tried to reconcile with you, if you remember. Atop the Starfish? You turned me away.”
“You had just saved her life. Again.”
“Yes ... and for a very specific reason. A good one, as it turned out. If I hadn’t done that, we wouldn’t have the Codex now, would we?”
She sipped her wine, but he could see that the point had registered. She started to loosen up, just slightly, and her sip betrayed a slight nervousness.
“I suppose that’s true,” she said.
He smiled wider. “Of course it’s true. Because I spared Sheridan, we now have a chance to succeed against all odds. And we will. Together.” He let that thought sink in. As she mulled on it, he scooted his chair over and grabbed her hand. Her flesh was cool, but he warmed it. “Together we can save this world, Layanna. We can finish the work that you began years ago with the Black Sect. Don’t throw all that away over ... over ...”
“Yes?”
“Over a misunderstanding.” He laughed. “I don’t love Sheridan.”
“You don’t?”
“Of course not! I love you. I always have.” He squeezed her hand, then, feeling his heart pound in his chest, kissed her cheek. Her neck. “I’ve loved you since the moment I first fished you out of the ocean. Since all the days of your coma. I’ve loved you since your eyes first flickered open. Since your first garbled Ghenisan spilled out.”
She smiled tremulously. A tear leaked down from a blue blue eye. “I remember that. I hated your language.”
He laughed, feeling half hysterical. “I know. I hated to hear you speak it!”
They laughed together, and when she turned to regard him he saw warmth in her eyes. Warmth! Part of him rejoiced. Part of him hated himself.
“Can we truly be together again, Francis?”
He touched his forehead to hers. “Not only can we. We will.” With no further warning, he kissed her on the lips. She resisted at first, then responded. Her lips were warmer than her hands, and her tongue was hot. Soon he felt a flush of fire rise inside him.
&n
bsp; “Oh, Francis.”
“Layanna ...”
She kissed him, passionately, and he could feel the need in her touch, the desperation. She had been lonely. Not just lonely, but cut off from the world. Disconnected in a sea of chaos. He was the one thing that could bridge that gulf, that could bring her back. I’ll try.
Despite himself, he felt his member harden and his blood course, carrying with it urgency and lust. A terrible, wrathful goddess she might be, but she was also a beautiful, slender young woman, and as her firm breasts filled his hands, he knew he wanted her. Perhaps he even still loved her, he didn’t know. He only knew there was no choice, no chance for victory if this didn’t happen.
He tore open the buttons of her blouse, sucked on her nipples, and she moaned.
“I missed you,” she said. “Oh, Francis, I missed you.”
She was crying, he realized.
Hating himself all the more, he heaved her up into his arms and staggered with her toward the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind them.
Chapter 3
“So that’s it, is it?” Janx said.
Avery nodded. “There it is.”
Before them rose the lofty purple spires of the Necropolis, eerie light flickering inside the crystal that fashioned them. Janx and Avery had set out by themselves—well, plus their driver—to behold the structure they were trying so hard to get access to. After all the violence and danger, there it was, a grand cluster of purple crystal looming overhead like some monstrous cathedral, but high as any skyscraper. Clearly made by no human hands, the crystal almost seemed to be a natural deposit, even some sort of growth thrusting out of the earth. There were no windows, no columns, and no doors save the one. It, a grand affair seemingly carved from the same crystal as the rest of the Necropolis, was set into the front of the structure overlooking a broad plaza. The whole building was set off from the rest of the quarter by a large square, but the Plaza of Dreams was a fabled tourist spot and many foreigners and even locals could be seen snapping pictures and posing before the building even now.
There were other Ygrithan ruins in this quarter, of course. This whole part of the city, set off from the rest of it, was infested with them, and countless homeless people had fashioned lean-tos among them, building a sort of itinerant settlement where law enforcement did not often go; strange things were said to happen among the alien ruins. The area immediately around the Necropolis, however, set right in the heart of the Ygrithan quarter, was clear of such dwellings, and was kept clean and neat as the tourist destination it was, as were the three main arteries that connected to it.
“Must be strange,” Janx said. “Living here all your life and seeing that thing every day, wondering what it was. I guess you grow used to it.” He grunted. “The locals’re probably bored by it.”
“There are other mysterious pre-human ruins around the world, but nothing like this,” Avery agreed. “So huge, and right in the middle of a great capital.”
Janx strolled forward, hood covering his head from the rain, as was Avery’s. The big man bought a fried snail sandwich off a vendor and munched on it eagerly. Curious, Avery bought one, too, and the gamey taste of giant snail, offset by mustard and relish, filled his mouth, not unpleasantly. At least it was hot.
Eating their greasy snacks, the two moved up to the grand doors of the Palace. There were no guards, no police presence. The authorities feared no break-ins, and graffiti was an impossibility on the diamond-like surface.
Janx knocked on the doors, which stretched fifty feet overhead. No one answered. He knocked again. Nothing, not even a resounding boom from the other side.
“Worth a try,” he shrugged, shoving the rest of the sandwich into his mouth.
“Hard to imagine anyone lives in there,” Avery said, thinking of the priests that Issia had described. “And that they never emerge save to witness weddings and such.”
“Don’t see why we can’t trick one out, then rush in when the doors are open.”
“Yes, maybe we could storm the building if we could get the doors open,” Avery said, “but the priests only respond to the summons, a psychic summons, of an emperor or empress with the abilities of Issia’s line. And they can read through the psychic link the truth of the message. At least, that’s what the Empress-Regent told me.” He took another bite of his sandwich and licked his fingers of mustard. “I’m afraid the only way to get these doors open is to actually marry Ani off. Either that or stage a coup.”
Janx stepped back, staring upward at the multi-faceted façade of the Necropolis, all winking purple glints and shadows. The sun was just beginning to set, and the high purple towers now shaded slightly red.
“Guess we gotta get you back, eh?” he said. “Probably shouldn’t have snuck off like this, without your guards an’ all. You’re a king. Can’t go carousing like the old days.”
Avery smiled. Both knew he had done very little carousing. “I suppose. The Empress-Regent requested to see Ani and I.”
“Well, let’s not keep her waiting.”
* * *
“Before you marry my son,” Issia told Ani, “I need you to prove that you are who we believe you to be. I need you to access the Codex.”
Avery stiffened, though he’d known this was coming and had ordered the Codex brought to this little room in the Palace from the Ghenisan Embassy. That thing flung Issia across the room. What will it do to Ani?
When Ani looked to him, he made himself nod, and, with eerie calm, she lifted the red jewel from its box (now a much nicer box), closed her eyes and communed with it. Avery knew no other word for it, really. Accessing seemed too technical. What he saw was almost mystical. As soon as she concentrated on it, the Codex began to hum, emitting strange little ticks, almost like those of an insect.
Its facets … realigned.
Stunned, Avery braced himself against a chair.
“You are the Chosen One,” Issia said. She gazed at Ani with wide, glassy eyes, as one would when staring at the messiah of her people.
With that strange eerie sense of calm, almost of serenity, Ani replaced the Codex, now inert, back in its box. Avery hadn’t known he’d been holding his breath until it all came out in one long rush. Ani was safe. But, and he hated to think the thought, was she human?
Ani’s sense of serenity evaporated. Looking frightened now, she grabbed Avery’s hand.
“Papa, I ... I don’t think I like this. I just want to be normal again.”
He made himself smile. “You’re better than normal, Ani. Like those fairy princesses you used to read about.”
“You said this wasn’t a fairytale.”
She’s got you there, Avery thought. Fortunately Issia saved him from having to reply.
“It’s time for the press conference, Anissa,” she said.
Twenty minutes later, side by side with the monarch, Ani addressed the nation in the grand gardens behind the Palace. As the rain beat on the high arching canopy and the fragrant blooms filled the air with scent, Ani assured the people of the country that she loved both Prince Jered and the Ysstral Empire and only wanted to bring their two countries together. The press asked many questions, most of which the Empress-Regent fielded, but when Ani was called upon to answer she did so with intelligence and dignity. She and Jered held hands at one point, and cameras flashed in the rain.
Afterwards the group had a drink together (Ani and Jered drank cider), then went their separate ways. Avery returned to his room with Layanna, and again they made love.
A knock on the door roused him, and he glanced around to see Layanna’s arm across his chest. Disheveled blond hair fell before her face, but it was too dark for him to see much else. He switched on a lamp, cinched a robe about his waist and answered the door, where a messenger was darting anxious looks at the four guards stationed to either side of it.
Two shoved lances out, waving them and stabbing at emptiness; though ridiculous-looking, all the guards were supposed to be doing that these days, at l
east the guards of high officials. The attackers who had murdered five soldiers couldn’t be seen, but they were physical beings and could be repelled like anything else—with a sharp pole. As well, incense burned from holders spaced regularly along every hall and in every room. The Palace reeked, but if the enemy turned up, so the thinking went, they could be detected by the movement of the smoke.
“Yes?” Avery said. “What is it?”
The messenger twitched. “I have a letter for you.”
Hesitantly, he handed it over. Avery frowned and tore it open. The letter was brief and even without reading it he recognized the handwriting. A thrill ran through him, half excitement, half fear.
“Where did you get this?” he said.
For the first time, he really looked at the messenger. The man’s face was tight and shiny, his eyes pinpricks of anxiety. Of fear. He was clearly doing everything in his power not to break down. It seemed to require all his effort to remain as calm as he was.
When the messenger said nothing, Avery grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, closing the door behind them.
“I-I don’t know about this, sir. I really should—”
“Shh. I have a guest.” Avery dragged the man into a corner as far as he could get from the bedroom. “Now where did you get that letter?”
The man paused. “She gave it to me.” Fear accented the word.
“Who?” Avery needed him to say it.
“The woman that was with you. The ... the assassin.”
Dear gods, it’s true. “Why didn’t you report her?” He waved the letter. “Report this?”
“I couldn’t, sir. She has my family.”
“She what?” Avery just barely kept himself from shouting it.
The man’s face ticced. “That’s right, sir. She took my family hostage. My wife and two children. A son and daughter. She showed me pictures of them tied up. She said if I wanted to see them again to deliver this to you without raising the alarm.”
Avery swayed backward. “This is madness.”
Sweat trickled down the messenger’s face. “Will you tell her, sir? Tell her I did what she wanted?”
