Deviants of Giftborn (The Etherya Series Book 1)

by Amarcya, Zuri

  As Clisantha popped the last of her crunch cake into her mouth the young man arrived to take her plate. “That was delicious.”

  He smiled, “I will pass your compliments on to the chef.”

  Clisantha dabbed her mouth. “Actually I would like to compliment the owner myself.”

  The boy did not flinch. “Unfortunately he is busy right now, Mss Saraethien, but I assure you I will—”

  “It would be greatly appreciated if he could step away for a few moments. I won’t take much of his time,” Clisantha said. “Tell him I have message from Betha.”

  The boy hesitated and scurried away as Clisantha poured the last of the jug of sweet water into her glass. She had gotten so used to the glances from magiens as she navigated the Arc, that she barely noticed them anymore. A couple sitting to the far left turned to look at her and she met their gaze, holding up her glass in greeting. They stared, unconcerned about manners. Clisantha sighed and drank. Whatever the Thaide Priest had done to stop the Houses from bad mouthing her had not been enough. She had avoided doing anything about them herself and now the negative attitude toward her had picked up traction.

  An older man sat down opposite her. His square jaw was partly hidden by the stiff brown hair shaped into a two points at his chin and the fieriness of his thick, wild eyebrows was tamed by his sad eyes.

  “Greetings, Mss Saraethien,” he said, with a smile at one corner of his mouth. “I hear you enjoyed your meal?”

  “I did,” Clisantha confirmed. “Thank you. However, I came to speak to you about something, Thaide Oskern.”

  Oskern shook his head. “I’m no longer a Thaide.”

  “Yes, that’s very interesting. Why not?”

  Oskern’s smiled faded. “I didn’t come out here to discuss that. Do you have a message from Betha?”

  Clisantha leaned forward. “I want to know about that day on the border, eighteen years ago, with my father.”

  “I don’t know who your father is.” He held Clisantha’s gaze.

  “So the name Saraethien is unfamiliar to you? Even though there are records of you serving with Thaide Carrick Saraethien on the border? On the last day he served?”

  “Keep your voice down,” Oskern said through gritted teeth. He glanced around and rose from his chair. “Come through to the office.”

  Clisantha lifted her glass and followed him through the tables to the kitchen at the back of the cookery. Clouds of aromas swarmed around her and she passed sizzling stoves, slimy counters and heaving carts as Oskern maneuvered to a small office to one side of the kitchen. A desk covered with papers, ornaments and reports took up most of the room, but it had a cozy feel.

  “How did you find me?” Oskern said, closing the door behind her.

  Clisantha looked around the room, gravitating to the painting on the wall of Oskern in his Thaide cloak. “I want to know what happened that day on the border.”

  “You will never know.” He sat behind the desk. “That information is classified and you are in breach of Sovereign Law for even asking me.” He leaned forward, furrows above his brow. “Are you aware that we could both be arrested?”

  Clisantha turned to him. “Who will know that we have discussed this? You’re paranoid.”

  Oskern stared at her. He barked out a laugh. “You know nothing about the Arc, do you, Mss Saraethien? You don’t know what the Thaide are capable of. The fact you’re even in my office is an indication to others of what we’re talking about.”

  “Not necessarily.” She crossed her arms. “My father was taken from me, Oskern. I was sixteen when he died. Surely you can understand how that affected my family.”

  “Yes I do. But it’s no different to what happens to every family in Torak that has a Giftborn child who has to leave them. Everyone learns to deal with it, as must you.”

  “I need closure,” Clisantha stated, walking towards the desk. “I need to know what happened.”

  “No,” Oskern said, softly. “You don’t.”

  Clisantha exhaled. “There are ways I can cause your business to suffer, Oskern.”

  Oskern sat back in his chair, eyeing her.

  “I’m sure you are aware that I’m not in favor with the Houses. I noticed that I was led to a table that faced away from your main clientele and view panel yet offered complimentary fenyac, perhaps to keep me happy so I would report good things about you to the Thaide Priest.” Oskern shifted in his chair as she leaned over the desk towards him. “You clearly care about what the Houses think. I won’t leave you alone until you tell me what I want to know.”

  Oskern half-smiled. “You’re welcome here any time, Mss Saraethien.”

  “Good,” Clisantha replied, “because I will be here every day. For morning meal, lunch and dinner. I’ll recommend this place to all of my clients. I will talk about you at length, about the support you give to me and the great advice you have about which of your suppliers are honest and which are not.”

  Oskern glared at her, rising from his chair. “You dare.”

  Clisantha shrugged. “I have nothing to lose. I know you’re the most successful ex-Thaide in Torak. It’s been difficult for any other ex-Thaide to gain the kind of success you have with this place. Would you have it tarnished?”

  “Do you think all I care about is my business, Mss Saraethien? Unlike you, there’s more to my life than the money I make.”

  Clisantha smirked. “And what is that? As far as I’m aware you have no family in the Arc, you have no life outside of your business. Or should I say, your father’s business. Would you truly allow its reputation to be destroyed over something that happened years ago? I’m sure Thaide Priest Kelvedon would shut you down if I complained to him that you were saying horrible things about my father that I couldn’t possibly repeat.”

  Oskern’s square jaw clenched and his thick eyebrows sunk low. Silence filled the room, and muted voices and clatter from the kitchen seeped through into the office.

  Clisantha held his eye. ”You and my father were friends, Oskern, I’m just looking to understand some things that don’t make sense.”

  “You don’t understand, Clisantha. It’s against Sovereign Law to discuss it.”

  “And how will they know that we have?” Clisantha avoided flinching as she spoke. Riyen had yet to confirm that her mind-web had no triggers but she had not spoken to him since the day she was so supposed to send Telmar to the Journey Grounds. He had not been to visit her and she had been too busy to go to training. But the mind-web had not been triggered by her investigation so far and she could not pass up the chance to talk to someone who had been there on the day Father went missing from the border.

  “They have ways to find out.”

  “It’s been nearly twenty years, Oskern,” Clisantha said, softening her tone. “They won’t still be on alert about this. Please?”

  Oskern sat back down, allowing the silence to grow again. He dipped his chin to his chest and spoke in a low measured voice. “There is a society of Giftborns called Phalorians, who are against the Sovereign. They disagree with everything He has created, reject His Law and actively work against Him and our way of life.”

  “They are magiens?”

  “No. They are Giftborn people without Arc training.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s only after a Giftborn has completed training by the Arc that they can be called a magien. Otherwise they are just people who have the ability to use the Gift.”

  “How do they survive?” Clisantha asked. “Wouldn’t the Gift kill them without training?”

  “They find ways of surviving with the Gift. They have a history of gaining access to the Arc attempting to get to the Sovereign. They have hurt and killed both magiens and citizens in the past.”

  Clisantha wandered across the small room. “Why do they try to hurt us?”

  “They have bizarre beliefs they are willing to die and kill for,” Oskern said.

  Clisantha almost asked what they were, bu
t stopped herself in time. Any belief held against the Sovereign was treason. “How is it they even exist?”

  Oskern looked at her. “There are many things that exist without magiens or citizens being aware of them. This is a Thaide level issue. These Phalorians are skilled at avoiding capture. They are a substantial community spread throughout the Realms and have experience hiding themselves. And they are accomplished warriors in the Gift.”

  “But the Sovereign can detect and control the Gift,” Clisantha pointed out.

  “They have camouflaged their use of the Gift so that it’s undetectable. It’s pointless explaining how to a non-Gifted,” Oskern said, dismissively.

  Clisantha nodded, looking back at his painting. “So what did they do to Father?”

  “Your father was one of these people.”

  “What?” Clisantha spun to look at him, her stomach dropping. “That’s not possible.”

  “Phalorians have infiltrated the Arc many times. They destroy serf wards, steal produce and children, and monitor Torak and the Arc closely. I’m sure there are some in the Arc as we speak. Your father was one of them.”

  “No,” Clisantha blurted, shaking her head. “You’re mistaken. No.”

  “Your father was actually one of the highest ranked Phalorians, from what I understand.”

  “No,” Clisantha insisted. “How could he be? He had a family in the Arc.”

  “He was a Thaide,” Oskern pointed out. “The Thaide had good deal of freedom back then. He could have been converted while on his duty in other counties or, more likely, before he even came to the Arc.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, your father was not Hanwyan, your mother was.”

  Clisantha lifted her eyes in thought. Yes. Father was from Merronign.

  Oskern’s face softened. “You wanted to know what happened.”

  “I want the truth.”

  “You can’t decide what the truth is. I’m telling you what I know.”

  Clisantha lowered to sit on the chair in front of the desk.

  Oskern observed her for a few moments before continuing. “On that day at the border, Thaide Eritha noticed that Carrick was missing. We looked for him and sent out a call to see if he was in trouble. I went to investigate with Thaide Colei and…” He paused, lowering his eyes.

  “What happened?” Clisantha asked, after his pause lengthened.

  “The Thaide Priest had organized a stealth attack on a group of Phalorians in Merronign, which no one on the border was aware of. Your father had made his way to join the fight, but he fought for the Phalorians not the Arc. Members of the Thaide died.”

  Nausea rose in Clisantha’s stomach.

  “I was injured and knocked unconscious. I heard later that Carrick had left the battle scene and returned to Torak. I can’t imagine why he would do that when he had revealed himself. He was arrested that night.”

  Clisantha swallowed hard. “Then what happened?”

  “We were all arrested,” Oskern said, memories clouding his face. “We were kept separate from each other and… questioned.” Oskern cleared his throat. “We told them everything we knew. Some of us survived the questioning, others did not.”

  Clisantha closed her eyes, horrified. “Why did they torture you?”

  “They had no idea if those of us who were on patrol were with Carrick or not. They wanted to be sure.”

  “So what happened to my father?”

  Oskern shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. There are different things that have been said over the years… I don’t know what’s true and I don’t want to know.” He paused. “I hope you can now let this go.”

  Clisantha stood and walked back to the painting. A bitter sadness rolled in her as she stared at Oskern’s painted eyes. Turning to him she said, “Betha is proud of you.”

  Oskern’s head snapped up, his thick brows raised.

  “She misses the Arc and misses you and your father. She doesn’t know he’s dead but she thinks you’re still a Thaide.” Clisantha reached into her cloak and pulled out a roll of swill-paper. “She’s married to one of the richest weavers in Torak and they have four children. She’s well looked after.” She dropped the swill-paper onto his desk. “This is their most recent family portrait. I suggest you keep it hidden.”

  She turned and walked out of the office, the sting of tears at the back of her throat. She navigated out of the cookery and stopped outside her carriage, bracing herself on its hard frame. It was unbelievable that her father could have been… that. She remembered Orna’s words; he killed Thaide, he killed children. Is that what father had been training her for, a life as a traitor, a murderer? She climbed into her carriage and sat in a daze as it began to move. Of course Father had not followed the rules, he had trained her in secret after all, but to be a part of an illegal group working against Sovereign Law… against her whole way of life? It felt unreal, like some kind of cruel joke. She had been looking up to a man who had been dishonest in his own life, dishonest about who he was. He forced her to keep her Gift a secret and now she could never admit it to anyone. The anger and loss overwhelmed her, swelling from her chest and consuming her thoughts. For the first time since she was a child, tears filled her eyes and she was unable to stop them falling.

  The carriage jolted to a stop.

  A Thaide opened her carriage door and dragged her out by her arm.

  “What are you doing?” she cried, shocked. She struggled against him, trying to wrench her arm out of his grip.

  The Thaide saw her teary face and released her. He said in a low voice, “Mss Saraethien, you are being taken to be held for questioning. If you refuse in any way, you will be arrested. Please get into my hjuy. Your carriage can follow.”

  Clisantha straightened her robes, glancing at the magiens nearby who had turned at her yell.

  “I want to know why I’m being taken for questioning,” she demanded, as she entered the hjuy. “I have a right to know why I’m being interrupted from my work.”

  The Thaide said nothing. He entered the hjuy behind her and sat with his hands in his lap, back straight with an unseeing gaze as the hjuy glided away from her carriage.

  Clisantha wiped her nose with a cloth in her robes, trying to calm the alarm building in her. She had seen Thaide behave in such a way when they were escorting prisoners. So her mind-web did have a trigger. She wondered if Oskern had been taken too. He had been right to be concerned. Thinking hard, she considered what she could say about visiting him. There seemed no way to avoid telling the truth since she had no idea what he would say.

  The hjuy slowed to a stop and the Thaide escorted her out, terror hitting her when she realized where she was. The Thaide Capital loomed before her, an expansive building with towers shooting from each corner. The building itself radiated a deep blue interspersed with white swirling panels that echoed the designs on the Thaide robes.

  The Thaide steered her into the building, and up a series of flights of stairs. Once at the top, he created a platform and lifted her even higher up into one of the towers. Lowering onto a landing, he dispersed the platform and led her to a door.

  “I want to know why I’m here,” Clisantha said, as he turned to her.

  “You will be detained in this room,” he said. “If you attempt to leave, you will be hurt.”

  ***

  Time stood still. The room was white, almost empty and had no windows. Large square white panels spread along the ceiling and the walls provided a mild shine, suggesting they were made of lumni. Quite a lavish prison cell, but with no natural light it was difficult to judge how much time was passing and Clisantha started to feel disoriented. Thoughts ran through her mind about the life she had built for herself in the city. What was it worth? If Father was a traitor, what was she striving to achieve by all that she had done? Father taught her to be proud of her talents and strive to serve the city in whatever way she could. How could she look up to him when he worked against that way of life? She had
wanted to be him, dammit. She rolled onto her side and stared out into the room. It was a reasonable size, with a bed, chair and an opening leading to a washroom. The back wall had a shimmery look to it, like the panels that rotated around the building, but when she touched it, it felt like a normal wall.

  After a time, she heard a noise. Sitting up, she realized she could see through the back wall. She stood up. A room, similar size to her own, existed on the other side of the wall and it held a desk and few chairs. A magien in a blue tunic sat at the desk with a bundle of parchment before her. The door opened and someone else entered.

  Clisantha approached the wall as he walked in. “High Priest.”

  “Mss Saraethien,” he said. “You have been detained because your help is required. As soon as you assist us you will be released.”

  The magien started to write on the parchment. A scribe.

  “A number of months ago, a girl was collected from your residence after being discovered as having the Gift,” the High Priest said. “Do you recall?”

  “Yes.” How could she forget the girl that had awakened her memories about Father?

  “That girl was a beggar from the Ryim. She killed two Thaide and infiltrated the city. You vouched for her by saying that she worked for you and therefore she gained access to the Arc.”

  Clisantha blinked in surprise, trying to process the information as quickly as he was giving it to her.

  “I want you to tell me everything you know about her.” The High Priest stepped towards the wall, his boots thunking on the floor. His eyes looked distorted through the translucent shimmer of the wall and nerves gripped Clisantha’s stomach. “And I want a clear explanation about why you lied.”

  Clisantha swallowed, her mind running over the implications of the information. “Before I explain, I have a question for you about my father.”

  The High Priest clenched his jaw and the walls of her room glowed. Intense heat tore all over her body and clenching her teeth, she dropped to her knees.