Kay was staring at the painting. She’d remembered the painting. She’d woken up to a vision of Celest filling with smoke, two towers rising above the blackness. And the faintest memory of a voice whispering in her ear. Jyurik, drawing out her secrets while she was helpless.
“I had to parse through your ramblings about a snake, of course, but that is not uncommon after a Kallaha Test. The snake, or the rat, goat or lizard. Kallaha is another enthusiasm of the Gyudi that I share fully. A wonderful way to tease out fears. Your defenses were thoroughly disabled when you were in that chair. I learned you are a fetch, that you wanted the return of some of the children we held, which I honestly couldn’t give a fuck about. Have them all. They exist only to placate the egos of the Gyudi. The Palace, though. That was wonderfully helpful.
“I’ll admit,” he started pacing, “it was frustrating when the girl you came down here to find, the one you delivered that cryptic message for, actually went and escaped the next night. What was her name? Jenna Weiss? But I’ve had so little time to care. So much work to do. Perhaps I’ll send some Atoned to her house. Bring her back in time for tomorrow night. Fetch her.”
“Stay the fuck away from her.”
He laughed, glancing over at Yamar. “Nearly ready. The timing will be tight on this one. It won’t be long before Sella gets her claws into him.”
Jyurik walked over to the wall and withdrew his scepter from a hook. There was another hanging beside it, an ornate staff with a wheel atop it. Kay recognized the same symbols which decorated the giant circle at the center of the dome. The various Kallaha gods, or animals, or spirits, or whatever the creepy fuck they were, drawn in gold on a black surface. Jyurik took that in his other hand and went to stand in front of Yamar.
“Yamar Advoco, Wrang Captain and Melor deathsworn,” Jyurik’s words were twisted in mockery, “awaken. There is a threat to your Dynasty.” When Yamar didn’t react, Jyurik hit him with the scepter. Yamar groaned. “Awaken!” Jyurik called again.
As Yamar began stirring in the chair, Jyurik tossed Kay a smile. He gave a practiced shake of his scepter and it began sending smoke to the chamber’s ceiling. He gave the other scepter a spin, and the wheel at the top began rotating.
Yamar opened his eyes and looked around in confusion. He tested the ropes holding him down.
“Yamar,” Kay said, “keep your mouth shut! Don’t talk and don’t look!”
“Oh,” Jyurik said, “I doubt very much he can understand you. Or me for that matter. Nothing quite like waking to a full dose of shroud. The shock might kill a lesser specimen. But he’ll respond to this.” He held the smoking scepter under Yamar’s face, the spinning wheel just past it. Kay could see Yamar’s eyes attach to it, drawn by the flickering shapes through the rising black thread of smoke. “Tell me, Yamar Advoco, what do you see?”
“Yamar, don’t look!”
“Quiet, fetch, or I’ll gag you,” Jyurik said, focused on holding the scepters in place.
Kay opened her mouth again but her words were cut off by a sudden scream erupting from Yamar. He screamed long and hard, until Kay was certain his throat would burst. Jyurik was laughing, and Kay imagined slicing the fool’s throat, stabbing him again and again in the back. She felt an uncontrollable anger, the urge to melt his remaining eye and let him fumble through the dark. Then she remembered. She’d found no use for her powers while she was locked behind bars. She was behind them no more. The longer Jyurik was distracted with Yamar, the more time she had.
She gave another protest, letting her voice die down as if realizing the futility of her efforts. Then she summoned a flame to her side, away from Jyurik, and began slowly burning through her bonds. Doing her best to ignore Yamar’s struggles, she looked quickly around the room. There were two doors. She knew Atoned guarded the outside of the one leading back towards the dome. If she could find a way to free herself and Yamar, they could try the other, perhaps escape into the tunnels and lose their pursuit.
Yamar finally stopped screaming and fell back, exhausted. His breath was ragged as though he’d just run miles. Kay watched him with concern. She’d never seen him anything other than totally collected. Even as the fight with Sella had turned in her favor, he’d never shown fear. Now he was drowning in it.
“What did you see?” Jyurik asked, leaning forward.
“Betrayal,” Yamar replied in a shaking voice. “My betrayal. My dishonor.” A single tear leaked from one eye and he gave a shuddering breath. “I see a creature tearing itself apart.”
“You see Montemo, the rat with two heads.” Jyurik waved the smoke before Yamar, pressing the staff with the Kallaha symbols closer. Yamar cringed in fear as though something horrible approached him.
“How interesting.” Jyurik looked at Kay. He swung the Kallaha scepter for her to see, keeping the smoke before the transfixed Yamar. Kay saw, in the slowing motion of the black wheel, an image of a rat with two heads, each biting the neck of the other. Coiled in an embrace of pain and blood. The still image spoke of a horrible violence, a tearing of flesh. It was more disturbing that the violence was visited upon the creature by itself, or at least a part of itself.
“Not your snake, Kay, not this one. He does not fear for the weak who are hunted by the strong. He fears the duality inside him. His heart and head fight to tear him apart. He is of two minds, and it tortures him. He has no peace, and so in every direction he finds himself blind and helpless. Few are born belonging to Montemo. But the Rat captures his prey none the less. The stain of betrayal, conflict which will not quiet, in the darkest night or brightest day. That is how the Rat finds his devotees.” He glanced back at the trembling Yamar. “Tell me, Wrang soldier, what is your betrayal?”
Kay had successfully burned through several strands of rope. In a moment, she would be able to break the remainder, rise up and strike down Jyurik.
“I share a love with my master, and I have conspired to keep her from him.” He looked at Kay with pain in his eyes, his mouth agape, face lost.
Kay was suddenly glued to the chair, dumbfounded. “What? Me?”
Chapter 27. The Night of Centuries
Kay could hear Jyurik’s mocking laughter from miles away. “I can’t…you can’t…what are you talking about?” She glanced at Jyurik as if he could help her, but the fool held a cruel smile. When she turned back to Yamar, he had closed his eyes, his chin on his chest.
Kay’s head was swimming. Flashes of images, scenes of Yamar approaching her, quietly talking to her, advising her, came fast and confusing. Was what he said true? If so, why had he never tipped his hand? He’d never shown any desire to spend time with Kay beyond what was needed for their respective jobs. Beyond the rare flirtatious comment or joke, he’d never treated her any differently from Ewan or Joah.
“Look, he is drifting now. Slipping away. And soon he’ll be ready to tell me what I need to know.” Jyurik gave a satisfied smile as he turned to Kay. “His love for you divides him. Too rich, fetch. If only I could ensure he were conscious for your execution. I may have to plead with the Gyudi to delay it, just so he can watch and see what his betrayal cost him.”
It was Enos. The youngest member of the Dynasty had made clear his interests in Kay, as ill-conceived as they may be. Yamar would never do anything to hurt Enos. And so he’d sacrificed his own feelings.
She needed time to think through this. How had she missed it? What else had she missed? And what did it mean going forward? But she was still in the clutches of the fool, the man whose nod had killed Ewan, and she needed to stay focused. They weren’t dead yet. She could break the ropes and attack Jyurik. But with a broken arm, what chance did she have? And how would she get Yamar free? She couldn’t leave him behind. He’d never betrayed her. He’d risked his life for her, stepping in to challenge the Gyudi after securing a promise from her that she wouldn’t do the same.
With Yamar out, she needed another distraction. And one was right in front of her. “What’s the painting, Jyurik?” she asked.
As he turned to it, she carefully placed a flame at the back of Yamar’s chair. It began eating at the ropes which bound him, the lingering black smoke from Jyurik’s scepter masking its presence.
“Ah,” Jyurik said. “It is the future. The Fire Eye above and the blackness below. It will be a night to be spoken of for centuries. The night a new ruler took Celest. I almost wish you would be alive to see it, fetch. But, alas.” He spread his hands.
Kay glanced at his scepter, the black smoke still rising from its end. She felt the weight in his words. “I don’t understand.” She strained at the effort of holding the flame in place behind Yamar and trying to comprehend what Jyurik was saying at the same time.
“That painting is of Celest, as it will be tomorrow night.”
Her face turned white and her hidden flame died as she realized what he was saying. “You’ll kill them all.” Memories of the burned out husk of the city of Ferris came flooding back to her.
“Wrong, Kay.” Jyurik swung his scepter away from Yamar and held it at Kay’s chin, letting the smoke crawl over her face. “Breathe it in. It does no harm. It will only block their eyes.” He turned the scepter, his trick which made the smoke pool at the floor rather than rise. “Your vision is incomplete.” He took a place at her shoulder. She shuddered as he whispered in her ear. “What do you see?”
“The city filled with smoke. Two towers rising above it.” How could he fill the city with smoke? The wind would carry it away, or it would rise. “You can’t do that,” she whispered. “It won’t work.”
“Oh, it will work. I’ve made sure of that. Have no doubts, fetch. I do not. But you are proving as fool as the Gyudi. You focus on the wrong part. The towers are what matter. Who will be in the towers, peeking their heads out over the gloom?”
“The Dynasty.”
“Not one Dynasty, Kay. Both.”
“One of the towers is the Palace?” She could recognize the twisting edifice, the wide windows, a smudge which could be the Summit Balcony.
“Very good, Kay. And the other?”
She wracked her brain, visualizing the skyline of Celest. The painting of the other tower had an ovular shape to its peak. “There’s only one other tower of a height that approaches the Palace. Devero Tower?” It had been staring her in the face. The home of the Melor’s only remaining rivals. A structure with a large enough base to hide a subterranean court. “The Gyudi hold the Devero Tower? That’s what Sella was saying. They move the whole operation to the upper floors tomorrow night. Is that where we are? We’re in the basement of Devero Tower? And that’s the Halo Balcony on top?”
“The Devero family was ever loyal to the Gyudi. For long years they have worked to facilitate a return. This has been the seat of the Gyudi’s power, their secret. They have control of the building. You have seen only the smallest and most hidden pieces of their domain.”
“So you somehow fill the city with smoke, and only the Gyudi and the Melor are above the fray? Staring at each other across an ocean of black. If the smoke won’t kill the people below, what does that change?”
Jyurik leaned in close, so close his tongue was almost touching her ear. Kay struggled to remain seated, to keep the fact that her bonds were loose hidden. He whispered into her ear, quietly, lulling her into a vision, helped by the painting before her. “Picture it, Kay. Two towers rise above the smoke. Blind to what is below them. See it, Kay. Now,” a long pause, “why stare at your enemies across a black ocean, when you can instead watch them burn?” In her mind, or on the wall, Kay was no longer sure which, she saw the first tower erupt in fire.
They were going to set the Palace aflame. “The Palace,” she said in a numb voice. “You fill the city with smoke, they retreat high into the Palace, and you set on fire.” Before her, she could see the fire burning, lit like a candle over the dark city. “It will be easy when the guards are disabled, blinded by the smoke. The Gyudi watch triumphantly from the only other vantage point in the city. The Dynasty, and all its closest loyalists, are killed in one fell swoop. The smoke clears and the Gyudi are positioned to take control. And you’ve been locking down the necessary alliances to transition to a new rule. That’s why you met with the Pathfinders. And others I’m sure.” She could feel Jyurik nodding beside her. “This city is built for a Dynasty to sit atop it, you just intend to replace the Dynasty.”
“Now you see it,” he said. “The nobles will seek shelter as the smoke pools at their feet. They will climb. They will cluster. And when they have gathered, all our enemies in one place, high above the smoke-clouded streets, we will be waiting.” But there was a hitch in Jyurik’s voice, something less than the total satisfaction Kay expected. Why? It would work, assuming they could deliver on the smoke part and truly blind the city. If that fell into place, it would be easy enough to position men near the Palace. Jyurik had said you told me about the layout of the Palace, its library. That’s where they would be. When the smoke came, they’d leave a handful of Atoned or even just one to start a fire in the library on the second floor. Perhaps Jyurik himself. It would take just one. With no one around to stop the flames before they took the lowest floors, it would just be a matter of time before they climbed the tower. No escape route for every member of the Dynasty and all their hangers-on. Enos, Abi, a thousand others.
But that hitch in his voice. “And what do you get?” Kay asked.
“They will make me mayor. I will sit unchallenged, just below the Gyudi Dynasty.” Again, there was a tone of dissatisfaction.
“I don’t believe you.”
“What’s not to believe, little mouse? The course is set. I have seen to every detail myself. The Gyudi will watch the Melor burn. The message you delivered contained no idle threat.”
“No.” She fought a wave of revulsion as she turned her head to look at Jyurik, his chin right by her shoulder. “You said a new ruler. You said people would speak for centuries about the night a new ruler took Celest. A new ruler, not a new Dynasty.”
He moved away from her. “Oh, little mouse. You jump at shadows.”
“I don’t…I don’t see it.”
Jyurik gave a low chuckle. “Or perhaps you see far too much. But I have no desire to help you along this path.”
“Why not? I’ll be dead as soon as the Gyudi send for me.”
“Sooner,” he said, “if you find your way down that path.” But he was torn, and after a moment he leaned in over her shoulder again. “Fine, I will show you the last thing you’ll ever see. You’ll be my one whisper in the dark, the only one with whom I share the secret. And then you’ll die with that knowledge. It will be a message for the other side. You can carry it to the dark lands of death with you. You can tell your old man of it.”
He leaned back in, uncomfortably near. “Look closer.” He waved the smoke before her again. “There is more to see.”
The vision came back. The two towers rising above the smoke. “Look closer, far closer, little mouse.” He placed his scepter on the ground at her feet. The smoke drifted in front of both of their faces, crawling like snakes across the wall, making the painting look alive, making it breathe.
“See it. See the night that will be talked about for centuries. The Fire Eye above and the blackness below. And ask yourself the right question, fetch.”
“I don’t know it.”
“The Night of Centuries has one architect. That is me. And the question you must ask, fetch, is where am I?”
“Where are you?” She studied the painting.
“The answer is simple. I am atop the Palace on the Summit Balcony, sucking Yostre Melor’s dick.” He licked her ear, causing her to flinch. She had a sickening feeling this was as close to the true Jyurik as anyone got. This was him at his core, toying with her. Vulgarity, vanity, cruelty, all on easy display. This was Jyurik unmasked.
“No. Not the Palace. Not if the fire’s coming.”
“Then I’ll be in the streets, pilfering the households of the confused masses.”
“
No, you’d be just as blind as everyone else. You could be in position to start the fire, but that’s not you. You’ll have someone else do that.”
“Very good, Kay. The correct answer is I’m on Devero Tower’s Halo Balcony, rifling through Olive Gyudi’s skirts.”
“No. Maybe that’s what they think. I don’t think that’s what you’re planning. But what other place matters in this game?”
“Indeed, Kay. What other place?” he whispered quietly. “Look closer. I’ve shown this painting to Sella, to Daemon, to Olive. To each of the three thrones. They sat around this very table as I laid out my plan. They saw only the world they live in, one of Dynasty rivalries and birthrights and power that stands in the open. Not one of them looked closely enough. Will you? Can you?”
Her eyes crawled over the painting. A sea of black smoke, resting atop Celest. The hint of roofs on the highest buildings. Two towers rising above it. She looked again. What was she missing? What had the Gyudi missed? There, right at the bottom, almost touching the floor. A third tower, shorter than the others, just above the smokeline.
“There’s a third tower.”
“And that is where I will be.” Now she could hear the satisfaction in his voice. “And what will I be watching, little mouse?”
There was a long silence. Kay could feel the painting throbbing like a living thing. A sense of dread wafted from it. The Palace lit in flames. The screams of hundreds, Enos, Yamar, Abi, the Dynasty. And then those screams were joined by others. Devero Tower erupted in fire. The two towers lit the city, burning like candles over the black ocean.
Her mouth fell open. “You’re going to burn them both. Burn both towers. Kill both Dynasties.”
“Excellent, fetch. The Melor huddled in one tower, the Gyudi in the other. The Palace will burn. The Gyudi will rejoice. Imagine their surprise, imagine the moment laughter turns to screams as they realize their own building is burning as well. And then Celest will no longer have a ruling Dynasty. I will be its King.”
The Fire Eye Chosen_Sequel to The Fire Eye Refugee Page 19
