Kay spotted Jyurik. As much as she seethed when she saw the fool, she was relieved to know he was here, not somewhere above advancing whatever plot the Gyudi had put into place. He was staring up at the thrones from near their base. His mask, far more elaborate than what seemed to be standard issue, was in place. Even from a distance, Kay could see that his hands were tightly folded before him. She recalled his effortless arrogance, not dissimilar to Sella’s. She wondered if he was content serving as their fool, content living in the shadow of their thrones.
Sella was raising her hands for effect as she wrapped up the brief speech. “Tonight we will celebrate in this place for the final time. Tomorrow night, we will ascend to the highest levels of this tower, and you will join us. Tomorrow night will be for us, for you, for the Chosen. Tomorrow night the celebration will be legend. We have wonders to show you. Marvels that will rival the Fire Eye. The night after that, all of Celest will bow before us as the Fire Eye closes. You have made your choice to stand with us. And you shall be rewarded. The city shall be yours. The city shall be ours.” She sat, releasing the crowd to an excited cheer.
Moments later, Sella made a gesture and the drums started. Atoned appeared with trays of drinks and bowls of liquid shroud. Many of the Acolyte’s masks were raised and some immediately joined in the drumming and began dancing. As it had before, the party started up with professional efficiency.
Kay kept her mask down, her one eye glued to Sella. There was a smirk on her face as she looked first at Daemon, then at Olive. Kay didn’t buy the speech. Not from these three. Abi had told her about the cruelty of the Gyudi Dynasty’s previous generations. She saw plenty of evidence this batch carried it forward. She needed only to look at the requirements for rising to the level of Atoned. Any kindness shown to those who took the Gyudi’s side before they rose would be brief and perfunctory. If they succeeded, the next time the Fire Eye took its place above Celest, half the city would have their eyes taken forcibly, and the others would be looking at the ground in fear.
As the party grew around her, Kay began looking for a tall girl with shoulder-length brown hair and a mole on her chin and a short and stocky girl with long, curly black hair. The only working descriptions she had for Cora Creshlan and Melanie Dedite. Marlo Lammet may be lost to her if he was already among the Atoned ranks, but that was a challenge to be faced later.
She walked the party from end to end, turning back where she saw the Atoned enforcing a border. With nearly half of the Acolytes leaving their masks on, she was left with a painstaking and ineffective search through the claustrophobic eyehole in her mask. Seeking two girls out of this crowd on the basis of vague, secondhand descriptions was an exercise in futility, and she wasn’t about to shed her own mask or risk asking any others for direction.
The party ran long, Kay pacing to avoid looking out of place, always moving from one side or the other. Blending in through constant motion. By the end, her feet ached and she’d learned nothing new. She was relieved when the first Acolytes began staggering off back to the dormitories, and she joined their ranks.
She wound up in a different dormitory than before, glad to have the distance between her and Jameis, but there was a group of Atoned in the center of this one, speaking quietly. Kay made her way to one of the empty beds, climbing in and pulling a blanket over her before taking off her mask.
She had no intention of sleeping, thinking she would wait out the Atoned and begin her search again in the quieter late hours. But soon it became clear her body had different ideas, and she found she couldn’t even begin to raise herself off the bed. The last day had taken a brutal toll. She rolled on her side to prevent herself from sleeping on the broken arm.
She’d gained a slightly better knowledge of her enemies’ plans. They would strike tomorrow. But she had no idea what they would do or how to prevent it from happening. No idea how she could free the taken young among the Acolytes. And not just hers, all of them, any who didn’t want a part of this madness. Maybe they weren’t in danger, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that wasn’t the case. Something in the way Sella shared that look with the others. Something in the way Jyurik leered up at the thrones. No one was safe down here.
Kay fell asleep certain that she would wake with the fool standing over her. She rested fitfully, plagued by visions of two towers standing above a city filling with smoke. When she woke, it wasn’t to Jyurik. It was to a full-fledged search party, tearing the room apart, throwing people from their beds. It took her only moments to realize they were hunting Yamar. His presence had been discovered.
Chapter 23. The Crystal Den
Kay was only given half a glance by the Atoned as she jumped off her bed and out of the way of the large group rifling through the dormitory. She was left with the distinct impression they were looking for a man, and, exposed as Kay felt with her mask off, they had no time for her.
Kay couldn’t say for certain without the natural light, but she would guess it was closer to afternoon than morning. The endless supplies of drug and drink had thrown off the schedules of the other Acolytes. Kay had also slept late, exhausted under the weight of the past few days.
She wasn’t certain it was Yamar they hunted, but the odds of a third spy being in place were long. Maybe they’d found the bodies in the tunnel or he’d left one or more new ones in his search for details of their plans. As the Atoned left the dormitory, sparing no words of explanation to the confused Acolytes, Kay glanced around. She saw an opportunity to forge a quick connection and approached a younger woman with her arms folded who stared after the departing Atoned.
“What was that all about?” Kay asked.
“I don’t know, but they surely could find some better manners.” The woman sniffed at their backs, then turned to Kay, looking her up and down. “I haven’t seen you here before.” She had a matronly bearing, like a schoolteacher. A firm dignity Kay expected was rare among the Chosen’s ranks.
“I found a new bed after last night. A few of the others, well, they took over my old one.” Kay had seen rampant sex, not all of it discrete, since her arrival. She had the feeling it was the kind of thing this woman wouldn’t care for. “My name is Kelsey.”
“I’m Lola,” the woman replied. She straightened her cloak, rumpled from sleep.
“Lola, I’ve been looking for a friend of mine. Her name is Cora Creshlan.”
“Oh, she used to sleep here. Lately she’s been up to her eyeballs in drugs though. Probably with the junkies over in the western dorms.” Lola eyed Kay. “I could walk over there with you, help you look if you like. I’m certainly not getting back to sleep after that.”
Kay smiled her thanks and let the woman lead her out into the hallway. She had misgivings about leaving her mask behind, but she still wore the cloak which hid her sling and Yamar’s sword.
The halls were quiet, and it was a short walk through the well-lit tunnels before they reached the entry to another dormitory. The door was ajar, and Kay could smell the odor of unwashed bodies and burning crystal wafting out in waves. She braced herself. Venturing into crystal dens was a regular part of her job. A troubling number of missing kids were found at the end of a burning pipe. The trick was getting to them quickly, before their gold vanished and they went into debt or servitude. There were always sharp-eyed men on the doors, sober and ready to extract a price from any who entered. This situation may be different though. With the limitless funds running through this place, what Cora and the others had to do to keep their pipe filled wouldn’t be the issue. The issue would be that they needed nothing more than the beckoning of a finger.
Lola opened the door wide. It was even worse than Kay had expected. Bodies lay around the open space. They could have been mistaken for dead if not for the small movements as flame was applied to pipe, as pipe was reluctantly surrendered to neighbors in the many haphazard circles around the room. The lights were low. The air was hot and smoky, thick with the sickly, sweet smell of burning crystal shroud.
Next to Kay, Lola’s face was tight. “Worse than it was yesterday, which was worse than the day before,” she said.
Kay looked at her, surprised to hear the sadness in her voice. “You check on this place every day?”
Lola nodded. “Had my troubles with drugs up above, in my old life. I didn’t think it would follow me down here. I do what I can. I try to peel away those ready to leave before they get pulled back in.” She gave Kay a considering look. “You don’t look like a junkie. So what say we find your friend and pull her out of here together?”
“I’d be grateful for the help,” Kay said, meaning it. She’d need to remember there were good people among the Chosen.
“Me too.” Lola suddenly teared up. “I came here to get away from this. But it’s all the same, isn’t it? Just more lies.”
“Yes,” Kay said, looking out over the lost souls. “But even if no one else will help them, we still can.” She began working her way through the crowd, scanning for a tall girl with shoulder-length brown hair and a mole on her chin. She turned one sleeping girl over, only to realize she was dead. Another snatched at her hand. A third smiled with teeth stained red from the drug as Kay touched her on the shoulder and raised her chin to find it lacked a mole.
A man seated at the edge of one of the circles grabbed Kay’s cloak as she walked past. “Sit,” he said, gesturing beside him. His eyes were unfocused, looking past her.
“Where’s Cora?”
He pointed deeper into the chamber before lying back quietly, appearing to forget the exchange before Kay had even shaken his grip off her cloak. She moved in that direction, quietly noting that Lola was occupied bringing water to a crying girl. Lola may be a help in bringing Cora back around, but there would be fewer questions if Kay could find her and verify her identity alone first.
The back of the chamber was darker. Kay weaved around a stark naked man, muttering in a fitful sleep. He still wore his mask. As she scanned the other shapes on the ground, she saw one of a young woman, sprawled out with her hair across her face. Kay leaned down next to her. As she gently swept the hair out of her face, she saw a single dark mole on the left side of her chin. “Cora?” she asked quietly.
The girl’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused and confused. She gave a soft moan.
“Are you Cora? Cora, I’m here to help you. Get you home if I can.” No response, but Kay thought she saw a glimmer of understanding, or at least recognition at the name. She looked up across the dank room. “Get you out of here.”
Kay stood, looking for Lola. Between the two of them, they could clean her up, bring her water, maybe even get her on her feet and to one of the other dorms. As she turned back towards the door, what she saw chilled her blood. Jyurik stood, framed by the light from the hallway, several of the Atoned at his side. And Jameis was with him. Her cover was blown. The fool was here for her and there were no other exits from this chamber.
Lola was leaned over another moaning drug addict. Kay still had time to cut her loose and spare her any consequences. She began walking quickly in a line that took her straight towards Jyurik’s dark silhouette, passing within a few feet of Lola.
Lola turned as she approached, but Kay hissed sharply at her. Without removing her eyes from Jyurik, Kay spoke swiftly and quietly, voice low so it wouldn’t carry towards the door. “Trouble. She’s back there. Keep her safe. You never met me, never spoke with me.”
Kay ignored Lola’s look of fear and confusion and kept walking. Jyurik had seen her and was moving towards her, his gang of Atoned spreading out in a fan behind him. “Little mouse,” he said, loudly breaking the silence of the drug den. “We meet in such a wonderful variety of places, in none of which you belong.”
Kay made a point of looking around as the jester drew near. “I wanted to see the Chosen Dynasty in all its glory.” She didn’t feel afraid. She felt despair. It had leaked from the people laid out around her, sucking false hopes into their lungs while the Dynasties played their games to see who would sit atop Celest. “And my last visit was too brief.”
“I’m not convinced you are who we hunted, but you’ll do.” Jyurik turned to Jameis and delivered a small, mocking bow. “Such diligent service shall be rewarded.”
“Don’t believe it,” Kay said to the youth, thinking of Ewan facedown in the alley. “He’ll come for your eyes or slit your throat the second you turn your back. Get out of here as fast as you can. They couldn’t stop all of you.”
“Oh, fetch,” Jyurik said. “You won’t believe what we can do.” Jyurik looked at Jameis. “A Dynasty spy carries Dynasty lies. You will be rewarded.” He turned back to Kay, his head cocked in amusement. “As for your visit to the Gyudi, don’t worry. You’ll see them again tonight. I wonder if you’ll enjoy this visit as much as the last.” He made a gesture to the surrounding Atoned. “Bind her and place her in my personal cells.”
As Kay was hauled away, she kept her eyes forward, not wanting to see any more of the pit she’d failed to pull Cora Creshlan from.
Chapter 24. Paintings
Kay stood staring out between the bars of a cell at the back of Jyurik’s chambers. She was wondering if she had lost her mind. Painted on the wall across from her was the image of Celest, filled with smoke, two towers rising above the murk. The same image which had haunted her dreams for the past several nights. Ever since she’d been drugged by the Gyudi and left alone in a tunnel with a death threat for the Melor Dynasty.
The Chosen had taken her cloak and with it Yamar’s sword. A quick search of her person had claimed the belt with her jars and baton, even the brass knuckles she’d recently taken to hiding around her waist. All piled uselessly beyond her reach.
The cell itself was bare, a closet carved into the stone chambers converted into a prison by a set of iron bars running from floor to ceiling. One of the cell’s prior occupants was still in the back, a skeleton that happened to be missing several fingers. Kay had examined it, then quickly tried to put it from her mind. There were a table and chairs before her, looking uncomfortably domestic mere feet from a prison cell. And beyond that the wall. Had it been Jenna who’d painted it? Why had the exact same image been running through Kay’s mind?
She’d considered every possible application of her weak powers. None seemed promising. She could start a fire somewhere in the chamber, leaving her locked in a room as it filled with smoke. It would take her a year to melt the bars. She could attempt to burn Jyurik on his return, but she’d never tested her spark on a person and had little faith that would get her anywhere. He could flee or lash out at her, and she would remain trapped.
Kay had long hours to ponder before Jyurik finally returned. She guessed they were past nightfall. The Gyudi would hold court soon. Jyurik didn’t speak as he reentered, but confirmed her suspicions by plucking his scepter from the wall and donning his formal mask. He was dressing for court. Finally, he turned and faced her.
“You know,” he said, “I recall the old man.” When Kay’s face grew tight, he gave the small tilt to his masked face she knew hid a grin. “I was there when he died.”
She struggled to hold on to her emotions, struggled to push aside her memory of walking towards the scene of Ewan’s murder, Joah’s back to her. “You found a new mask pretty quick, jester, after I broke your last one when I put you down in front of your masters. Like the dog you are. Did you have to replace the one Ewan broke?”
“Woof,” Jyurik said playfully. “No, your old man never
laid a finger on me. One of the other Chosen took a punch from him. There was some fight in the old one. Oh, I wish I could paint the scene for you. I wish you could see it. I may not share everything with the Gyudi, but their love of art is truly sublime. The beauty of the scene.” He made a gesture towards the wall with the image of Celest. “This is my favorite, but if I had more painters of talent, I would describe to them the scene of the old man’s death. So you could see if, feel it deep inside. The right painting could make you know exactly how it felt. I can see it right now. There’s a half-finished picture of the Fire Eye on the alley wall. Light from the torches. The old man, disarmed, forced to his knees by my men, defiance on his aged, Farrow face. And they all looked to me. All the Chosen, and then, finally, the old man. What did you say his name was? Not important. It’s that moment, that moment when he finally turned to me, when he knew that his life or death was in my hands. The expression on his face. Not afraid, not pleading. The weariness of the old. The ones who have seen the future run past them, and they tire of keeping up in bodies and minds that fail them and fall short. You would love it, Kay. It could be that I know your old man even better than you do, because I saw that face, that moment when he wanted me to give the word, when he wanted to be set free from his miserable life. And be put down.”
Jyurik drew close to the bars. “Like a dog. That’s the painting. That ripe, beautiful, almost tender moment, before I nodded. And then the Chosen blades did their work, making it a far different scene, and I left him facedown in an alley. Never even bothered to learn his name. Never cared or thought about it since. Until you brought it up in the graveyard. And as I sat in my bed the other night, it came to me. I did, in fact, kill the old man that you accused me of. And I laughed out loud, alone in the dark, because I found that absolutely hilarious.”
The Fire Eye Chosen_Sequel to The Fire Eye Refugee Page 17
