The Fire Eye Chosen_Sequel to The Fire Eye Refugee

by Samuel Gately

  She pressed on. The blue line was still there, guiding her deeper. There had been no turns in the tunnel, though it seemed like she must have traveled a lifetime with no signs of the remaining Chosen or Yamar. She had the horrible idea that she’d dreamed Yamar’s presence, that he’d never been here at all. Had the other Chosen? Was this whole thing some horrible illusion, some bad dream? Was she still standing in the center of a spinning black circle, trapped in her own mind?

  A boot, stretched out from the tunnel wall, fell into the small light of her flame. It was linked to a leg, linked to a body lying in a puddle of blood. Another Chosen. Clearly dead. His mask was gone and Kay could see the lifeless face of a rough-looking Gol. His left eye was missing, gruesome scars around it pointing to a rougher extraction than Jyurik’s. Kay kept going.

  She finally found Yamar, seated on the floor of the tunnel. His back rested against the wall where the blue line ran. His right hand gripped a bloodied sword which lay flat along the ground. He looked up at her light and the fear written across his face softened. He said quietly, “Would it be the height of obvious to tell you I’m happy to see you?”

  “Likewise,” Kay said.

  He stood, apparently uninjured, and pulled something from his belt. One of the Chosen’s masks. “This is the smaller of the two.” He held another for himself. “After we hide the bodies, we don their cloaks and masks. We enter the Court of the Gyudi disguised as one of their own.”

  Kay nodded slowly, then pulled the mask over her face and tied the cords at the back, hating how it obscured one of her eyes, making the oppressive darkness stronger. When she was certain it would stay in place when needed, she slid it on top of her head and looked up and down the tunnel. The blue line was still there. It would lead them deeper. She drew a long breath.

  “I wish you hadn’t told me you offered Joah a job with the Wrang. Now I have to give him a raise.”

  Yamar turned towards her, surprised. “After all we’ve been through in the past few hours, and what we face ahead, that’s what you’re going to focus on?”

  “I had no idea you were a poacher,” she replied. “If we’re dragging bodies to wherever we’re hiding them, you have to do the bigger guy. You can use that time to think about what you’ve done.”

  Yamar shook his head, barely visible in the darkness.

  …

  Yamar insisted they drag all four bodies back to the nearest intersection to pile them in the darkness of one of the tunnels unmarked by the blue paint. It was wearying work, made only marginally easier by the light of the torches they found on the Chosen. Despite Kay’s earlier joke, they’d needed to work together, one grasping each hand of a body, Kay pulling with her good arm.

  As they dragged the fourth into place, Yamar donned a grim expression, then began stripping the tallest of the Chosen of his tight black stocking garb. As he was doing so, Kay grabbed a cloak off another. There seemed to be two uniforms for the Chosen. The soldier types, Jenna had named them as Atoned, wore the body stockings. The Acolytes in cloaks. All of the Atoned were missing their left eyes. It looked as though the price of admission into their ranks was high.

  As Kay wrapped the Acolyte cloak around her, she fought a surge of fear that it had been worn by an innocent. Not one of Jyurik’s mindless enforcers but just someone trapped by the web of Gyudi lies, no more guilty of conspiring for mass murder than Jenna Weiss had been. She tried to suppress the feeling. Nothing could be done now. At least the face under the mask had not belonged to one quite so young.

  She turned back to Yamar, who was now unselfconsciously stripping off his own clothes. The light of the torch she held played off the muscles lining his body. He was a physical specimen, body tightened by relentless and focused training, the kind that enabled you to catch an arrow fired at your heart. As Kay watched him pull the body stocking on, she felt a sort of touch of sadness, realizing how little she knew him. He’d been a part of her life for the past four years, yet she’d never taken the time to learn more about him than what message he bore on behalf of his masters. She’d treated him as little more than a messenger. Now she was late in learning there was much more to him.

  “What?” he asked finally, feeling her eyes on him.

  Kay didn’t really know the answer to that question. “I’m glad you’re here,” she settled for.

  He grunted but said nothing, exactly the kind of thing Amos did when he felt uncomfortable. He glanced up at her, then back down at his new clothing. There was a long tear along the side where his sword thrust in the dark had punched through. He touched the fabric and made a grimace of distaste. “It’s wet.” The Chosen’s blood had spilled out all over the garment.

  Kay grinned at his discomfort. “You know, you’re kind of a shitty date, Yamar.”

  “You were the one who wanted to come here,” he shot back. He extracted his swordbelt from his pile of clothes and held it out to her. “I can’t wear this,” he said. “Will you keep it for me?”

  She nodded slowly and opened the cloak. He slid the swordbelt high over her waist so she could wrap the cloak around herself and hide it. He turned back to the clothing and extracted his Wrang badge. It was a golden triangle that said Wrang, Dynasty Guard on it. Above ground, it would make any who saw it take their knees at Yamar’s command. Down here, it was one more thing that could cost him his life. He stared at it for a moment, then tucked it into one of the folds of the body stocking. He picked up one of the Atoned’s knives and looked at Kay.

  “From this point on, we are Chosen,” she said. “You are an Atoned and I am an Acolyte. We’ll both do well to speak as little as possible. Confusion and anger will do better than lies. We got lost, separated. There must be confusion down here.”

  They each took a lit torch, not saying what it signified. At some point in the future, they would need to part ways. And then each would be alone in the lair of their enemy.

  They followed the blue line for another long hour. It stopped abruptly before a closed, wooden door which opened on oiled hinges and spilled light out into the tunnel. There were lanterns inside, hanging from the walls. The tunnel on the other side opened up significantly, clean and clear of debris, before another crossed its path. As Kay and Yamar put their masks into place and cautiously entered the new space, a Chosen Atoned walked past. The mask turned to regard them, sending a bolt of fear through Kay, but he merely continued on his way, no sign of curiosity towards the pair.

  Kay and Yamar exchanged a look, or at least as close to a look as was possible given they both wore masks obscuring their left eyes, and walked forward more casually. Around the bend, they saw a hive of activity. There were Chosen of all varieties, wearing cloaks, body stockings, and regular clothing. Some wore masks over their faces, some had them resting on their heads. Most had no mask on at all. The atmosphere was, as Kay had hoped, one of chaos. Everyone seemed to be charged with a different job and all moved at different paces. There was no sign of Jyurik or the Gyudi, but the elaborate decorations on the walls spoke of the wealth permeating even this underground space.

  Yamar and Kay turned back to douse their torches, leaving them just beyond the door. As Kay was looking back down the dark tunnel, trying to commit to memory as much of their route in as possible, she felt Yamar’s hand on her back. “We need to find the Gyudi.”

  “I’m here for the children,” she said, looking at the black of the tunnel and wondering how she would ever find her way back with what she came for.

  “I know, Kay. And I hope you find them. But I am not.” He waited until she turned so their left eyes could meet. “Please be careful. I can’t protect you down here.”

  “Did you think you could protect me up there?”

  “No, I guess not. But I’ve tried my best. And I haven’t failed yet. You are somehow still alive despite the danger you seem to invite from all corners.” He quickly grabbed her hand and held it. “Kay, if I'm captured here, they'll drag me in front of the Gyudi and kill me. Promise me y
ou'll stay quiet. You're here for the children, not for me.”

  She stared at the masked man in front of her. “Okay,” she said finally. “Promise me the same.”

  “Good luck, Kay.” He lowered her hand and walked away.

  Kay stared after him. He’d agreed when she said she focused too much on what was just in front of her. She’d missed things, important things. But now she was here, in the Court of the Gyudi. And it was time to get back to what she knew. Somewhere down here were the missing children she’d hunted for months. She made sure her mask was tightly in place. With only one eye exposed, she moved forward, searching.

  Chapter 21. Called to Atone

  “You don’t have to wear the mask in here.” The voice was warm, kind. Young. Kay had several worries about her ability to blend in with the Chosen Acolytes, and her age was high on that list. She expected most would be closer to Jenna’s age. Her mixed blood, evident with a close look at her features, was another concern. The broken arm was a third, something that would give her away to those who may remember her very public Kallaha Test the other night and could link it to her face, as the Chosen in the tunnel had done.

  She’d felt some relief when the Atoned in the tunnel had been slow to recognize her, but that was in poor light. Still, her face had been covered with paint during her humiliation, and she’d been wearing a dress borrowed from the Palace. Kay turned her mask slightly so she could see the face of the youth who spoke to her. He was not quite so young as she expected, probably nearing twenty.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’m pretty new.” She took off the mask, bracing for a raised alarm.

  “Maybe just pretty,” the youth said, a ready smile on his face.

  Free of the confining mask, Kay looked around. She’d found what appeared to be the sleeping quarters. There were no Atoned here. It was all Acolytes, lounging about on luxurious furniture, most with drinks in hand. Tapestries hung on the walls. The dominant item in the room was beds, some bunked, other thrown every which way. It was as though someone had raided several mansions and piled all their furniture into the basement. A few of the lounging youths looked Kay’s way, but with only casual interest. Kay was relieved to see many wore their cloaks wrapped tightly around them. If she could keep her own cloak in place, it would allow her to hide her broken arm as well as Yamar’s sword, which she was regretting not leaving behind.

  “I’m Cora,” Kay said, selecting the name of one of the children she pursued. “What’s your name?”

  “Jameis,” he replied. “Can I get you a drink? Some wine?”

  Kay nodded. She’d need to keep her wits about her, but after what she’d been through to get here, a drink or two might be needed to steady herself. As Jameis led her over to a well-stocked bar, she pondered how long her journey had taken. It probably felt much longer than it had actually been. They’d escaped Vascal at sunset. At least a couple hours in the tunnels. She’d only been in the occupied portion of the underground for twenty minutes or so before finding her way here. It was likely not even midnight. She felt a painful longing for the Fire Eye. She should be up above, finding her peace in communion with the night sky, rather than trapped down here, drawn by the insane ambitions of would-be usurpers.

  Jameis thrust a glass into her hand and tossed back some of his own. A bit of the red spilled down the side of his mouth, and Kay could see it was far from his first of the evening. “Drink up. Won’t be long before the show,” he said.

  “The show?” Kay asked. She noted that many of the others were drinking heavily. Several of those sleeping looked as though they had passed out rather than drifted off.

  “Is this your first one?” he sounded puzzled.

  “I’ve been here just a couple days. And they had me painting last night,” Kay replied.

  “Oh,” he laughed, “you’re one of those. Lucky.” There were barstools and he pulled one out for her. As she sat, he drew in closer, a little too close for her comfort. He leaned in, breath heavy with wine. “The painters get all the privileges.”

  “So what should I expect from the show, then?”

  “Not much. We all need to put on our masks. Mostly we just stand around and keep quiet. Pretend to be interested in what the Gyudi say.” His expression changed abruptly, his eyes drawing cautiously inwards. “I mean, some people are really into it. Are you, like…did you come here…the Chosen?” He seemed to realize his question made no sense, but struggled to find an alternative.

  “No,” she whispered conspiratorially. “I think this is super interesting and all, but I’m not so into all the Chosen stuff.”

  “Good,” he nodded, straightening. “Careful though. I shouldn’t have said that. Not so many in this dorm are, but it only takes one to rat you out. Sometimes people go missing.”

  “Are there other dorms?”

  “Sure. A bunch. I don’t know them all.”

  “Because I’m looking for some friends of mine.”

  “Fire away,” Jameis said, finishing off his wine and pouring another.

  “Melanie? Melanie Dedite?”

  Jameis shook his head.

  “What about Cora Creshlan? Same name as me, I know, we used to get teased all the time.”

  He brightened. “Yeah, she’s around. Not right here, but easy enough to find.”

  “Marlo Lammet?”

  “Everyone knows his name. He was called to atone a few weeks ago.” His eyes lingered on Kay as he finished another glass of wine. “Who’s your sponsor?”

  “They didn’t give me one yet.” Kay got the sense she’d made a mistake the instant the words left her mouth.

  Jameis turned and put his elbows up on the bar. His entire body language had changed in an instant. He was thinking hard. “That doesn’t make any sense.” Kay shrugged, but it didn’t satisfy Jameis. His brow was furrowed, his eyes questioning. “What is this?” he asked quietly, looking at her with suspicion. “I don’t…know that we should be seen talking.”

  “Free world, Jameis.” She made a gesture to shoo him off, finishing her wine. She’d done something wrong and the best option was to move on.

  “If you’re trying to—” Jameis was cut off by the chime of a bell carrying through the dormitory. He stood, along with every other Acolyte. The sleeping ones were quickly roused and took their feet with similar urgency. Everyone began putting on masks and robes. They were being summoned to the show. Jameis looked at her out of the sides of his eyes. “We should go,” he said, the distrust in his voice obvious.

  He hurried away, leaving Kay behind. She had a moment of privacy to collect herself and pull the mask down over her face. She had to hope she’d been right about confusion reigning down here with so many people so close together. She had to hope that even if Jameis suspected she was a spy, he wouldn’t know who to tell or be motivated to do so.

  Kay pondered her position as she slipped into the ranks of Chosen. This was a bad idea, but she’d been a spy before. She could be one again. The Gyudi had an agenda that called for the death of the Melor Dynasty. And they had Jyurik to carry it out. After tonight, the Fire Eye would be open just one more night before the night of the Closing. Time was short. She’d learn what she could of their plans then find Cora Chreshlan. With any luck, the girl would be willing to escape and together they could find Melanie. Assuming Jameis kept his doubts about her quiet, his mouth shut, and that she wasn’t outed by other means. She absently touched the sword under her cloak, hoping Yamar was still alive, wherever he was.

  Soon she was one of fifty or so filing towards the doors to hold court with the Chosen Dynasty.

  Chapter 22. A Night for Celebration

  The Chosen marched into the domed audience hall. Kay was again awed by the sheer enormity of the structure. The grey walls sloped away at an impossible height, defying the logic that they were somehow underground by reaching high into the air. How could this not be visible from the Palace? The top of the dome housed the opening through which the orange light of the F
ire Eye filtered. She breathed deeply as she saw it, past the stifling mask, feeling somehow bolstered by its presence.

  Kay worried about a precise organization to what Jameis had called the show, what she called court in her mind. She recalled being dropped in the center of an immaculate quiet, the careful positioning of hundreds, all facing her. The reality, from the other side, was far messier, which at least made it less likely she would make a mistake in protocol that outed her as a spy. Everyone took a haphazard position, and the quiet was only truly realized when the Dynasty spoke.

  They were there, all three, towering over the crowd on their ridiculous thrones. Sella, regal and arrogant in the center. Daemon, bored and fidgety on her right. Olive, looking over the crowd with eager, vulpine eyes. Kay remembered the sound of shrill laughter following her down into the darkness the last time she’d stood before them. She was glad for her mask as Olive’s gaze passed over her.

  Was Yamar somewhere in the crowd? The Atoned side of the Chosen appeared more organized, more rigid in their deployment and manner. Which would make them far more difficult to infiltrate. Hopefully he was hiding. Hopefully he’d found some key to their plan, exactly how they intended to strike at the Melor, and was even now on his way back to the Palace, following the blue line to open night air.

  Sella stood on her raised throne, silencing the final murmurs of the crowd. Even the Chosen who had been staggering, suffering the effects of too much drink and drug, managed to find a quiet pose of attention. For a moment, the only movement in the court was the slow saunter of the Atoned charged with keeping the quiet, making their way circuitously through the ranks of the Acolytes.

  “My Chosen,” Sella said, “tonight is a night for celebration. Long years we have waited. We have watched others rest comfortably in the thrones meant for us, for our family, and for our Chosen ones.” She waved her hands over the crowd. “That wait is coming to an end. We have asked you for little more than the patience and faith our family is due. As the rightful rulers of Celest, we are owed that and more. Others have elected to take their knees before the false Dynasty. Their fate will be the thing of nightmares. Yours will be nothing short of the fulfillment of your dreams. And first and foremost, the dream of seeing your beloved Dynasty atop Celest.”