by Watson Davis
The tiles and mud brick and wood splintered and sprayed down. The debris pelted Sifa’s head and shoulders. She rolled to her feet and lunged past Dyuh Mon, past the lightning bolt seemingly frozen in time, out through the door, keeping the vision of that bolt in her mind.
She darted into the fading sunlight, into the shadow of the mountain, and she sprinted into the plaza, following the pull on her heart, the feeling of fear and terror that transformed into purest joy. The vision of the lightning bolt disappeared.
Ka-bes stood at the end of the street, her face lighting up as their eyes made contact. Sifa felt joy both from herself and through her connection to Ka-bes. She shouted, “I knew you would come!”
But then Ka-bes’s expression changed, transforming first into confusion, then terror. Ka-bes stepped toward Sifa, pointing at the ground and shouting, “Get down!”
Sifa threw herself to the ground and curled into a ball to protect herself.
Sacrifical Lamb
KA-BES'S HEART FLUTTERED, almost stopping from the joy and love of seeing her baby once more, seeing her smile, seeing her happy. Sifa ran toward Ka-bes with her arms open, shouting, “I knew you would come!”
Ka-bes wanted nothing more in that moment than to wrap her arms around her and smother her in kisses but behind Sifa something else emerged from the clouds of dust and dirt kicked up by the destruction of the building—a man.
He grinned at Ka-bes, revealing teeth that had been filed to points like the inner circle of the old Librarians of Arenghel.
Dyuh Mon.
Smoke rose from his tattered clothes, but he seemed uninjured; no limp, no blood.
Ka-bes pointed at the ground, and shouted, “Get down!”
The expression on Sifa’s face twisted from joy, to fear, to understanding, and she threw herself to the pavement, curling into a ball, wrapping her arms around her head.
Ka-bes thrust her right hand forward, shouting a magical command, triggering the spell she’d had on hold. A jet of hardened air and ice shot from her hand toward Dyuh Mon, speeding toward him so fast that the air ripped and boomed in its path.
Her aim was true and her magic flew to its mark, but Dyuh Mon raised his hand, gently, casually, as though he’d seen this attack before thousands of times. Her spell deflected off a magical barrier he’d erected, a sort she’d never seen before.
She regained control of the ice-lance and whipped it around, bringing it in toward his back, attacking his rear. Dyuh Mon stood in a dome of calm that her lance shattered against, disintegrating into shards of ice and wind. She staggered back, huffing for breath.
Dyuh Mon smirked and said, “Children, always making life more difficult than it needs to be.”
A crack appeared along the side of Yut-hosa’s face on the side of the mountain, and it broke off and smashed down on the top of Dyuh Mon’s shield, covering it. Ja'ast stood atop a building to Ka-bes's left. He raised his hands and the rock rose into the air, and Ja'ast slammed his hands down, screaming to increase the force. The rock hammered down on Dyuh Mon’s shield once more.
Dyuh Mon, his face now grim, whipped his arm around, and a pulse of dark power disintegrated the rock, pulverizing it, blasting it into so much sand.
Sifa popped up before Ka-bes and shouted, “Stop!”
Two bolts of lightning flashed from the cloudless sky, cracking through the air with deafening volume, both hitting Dyuh Mon’s shield. The shield redirected the energy, absorbing it, causing magical symbols to flare to life and then fade.
“You missed that opportunity,” Dyuh Mon said.
Ka-bes moved to the side, her eyes focused on Dyuh Mon, trying to understand his power, trying to find a weakness. She changed her chant, switching sources, focusing different magics in different ways.
Water bubbled up around his feet, rising around him, but with a flick of his hand, Dyuh Mon swept it away. He snarled and said, “Enough of this nonsense.”
Something pale and white wrapped around his hands. Dyuh Mon glanced down, his brow furrowing, his eyes not comprehending. He shook his hands, trying to free them. Another clump of strands wrapped around his face, covering his mouth, his nose, his eyes. His magic swirled around him, but with no chant or motion to control it, it moved faster and faster, building up energy until it exploded, digging a hole in the ground quickly filled by Ka-bes's water, the blast knocking him onto his back against the side of the crater.
Che-su limped out from an alley between two shops, pointing at him, yelling, “Pound him! Hit him with everything now while he—”
“Che-su!” Sifa cried out, stepping toward the old woman.
Che-su’s eyes grew unfocused, her face slack, and she pitched forward, falling face first onto the ground. She lay there unmoving and a black shape emerged from the shadows—a thin man, tall and muscular, wrapped up in black rags, with black spectacles hiding his eyes and a cloth mask covering his face. “I hate to say I told you so, Dyuh Mon, but I told you so.”
Dyuh Mon rolled over onto his knees, clawing at his face with his web-covered hands, then tearing at his wrists with his teeth. He staggered to his feet.
The man in black glided forward in a crouch toward Sifa, Ka-bes, and Ja'ast, moving faster than any man had a right to, his hands held out to his sides, his head swiveling as he studied them, one by one.
Ka-bes swung her hands toward this new threat, sweeping her focus toward him. A jet of water sprayed at him, but he moved too fast, vaulting high over it, higher than any man could jump. The jet passed beneath him.
Ja'ast raised a block of rock up from the ground to strike him, but the man in black darted through the colonnade into a shop, disappearing into the shadows.
“Where is he?” Ka-bes cried out, to be answered by the sound of crashing within the buildings beside the plaza.
“There!” Sifa pointed, her hand moving quickly, shifting from building to building.
“Alive!” Dyuh Mon yelled, the last of the webbing now removed from his mouth, although still covering his eyes. “Gartan! Do not kill anyone!”
“Hell, no!” Ja'ast stomped his feet, planting them wide, and his hands moved to a spot and then he grunted, his grunt growing into a growl and a roar. One of the thick columns shot out from the colonnade and flew across the plaza, plowing into a building, crushing the facade, caving the whole row of shops in.
Ka-bes switched her chant again, from water to air, pulling winds to her.
“I think I got him.” Ja'ast, panting for breath, sweat glistening on his face and chest, staggered toward the crushed buildings, his hands trembling from his exertions.
Gartan, the man in the black rags, legendary warrior of the Empress, exploded from the rubble, landing on his feet and running. Ja’ast whirled to face him but Gartan smashed his fist into Ja'ast’s gut. Ja'ast fell to his knees, struggling to breathe.
Ka-bes shouted her trigger word and threw her hands toward Gartan, ordering her winds to smash into him. He rolled under them and slid across the stones, coming to rest right in front of her. He lashed out with his foot, kicking her in the stomach.
Ka-bes flipped through the air, struck a column and collapsed to the ground, her magic fading from around her as she fought to catch her breath.
Sifa screamed, “No!”
A huge pillar of lightning smashed down on Gartan, the forces lifting him into the air. Gartan growled and flailed his arms and legs, suspended in the crackling air.
Sifa held on, pouring more and more energy into the lightning, into him, until she let it go and fell to her knees. She turned and crawled toward Ka-bes, her entire body shaking.
Gartan landed on his feet, smoke rising from his black rags.
Ka-bes lifted her hand and pointed toward him, finding only enough breath to whisper, “Sifa. Behind you.”
Sifa rolled onto her side and looked back.
“Too bad,” Gartan said, grabbing Sifa by the throat and lifting her from the ground.
She punched and kicked at him.
Gartan said, “You’re a tough little girl, you are.”
A man’s voice, a voice Ka-bes recognized, called out, “Is it safe to come out now?”
Ka-bes shuddered, her heart breaking, and said, “Lunan?”
SIFA SHUFFLED DOWN the dark hallway, her eyes wide, her fingertips at her neck, tugging at the strange black collar there, exploring it. She studied the images along the walls, crafted in an ancient style using a mosaic of gemstones, some depicting scenes from the great stories of the Nayen, others depicting scenes she could not figure out, and some depicting scenes of battle and torture so horrific she had to turn away.
“I studied above for years before being allowed down this far.” Dyuh Mon strutted before them, leading the way with Lunan at his side. Dyuh Mon stopped at a set of doors along the way and peeked inside, chuckling and shaking his head. “Ah, the stories I could tell.”
“I would be most interested in hearing any story you wished to tell,” Lunan said, his voice deferential.
Gartan, stinking of burned flesh and hair in his black rags, herded the prisoners forward, down, deeper into the bowels of the temple. He said, “She’s not going to be pleased by your decision.”
Dyuh Mon harrumphed.
Ka-bes marched along to Sifa’s left and her friend, Ja’ast, to her right, both wearing black slave collars like the one around Sifa’s neck. Dyuh Mon had removed Ka-bes's old collar and replaced it with a new one. The one on Ja’ast’s neck sparked, a bolt of energy lashing out from the collar to strike him along the neck. He jerked to the side, grimacing, but kept walking. Tears rolled down Ka-bes's cheeks, and her lower lip quivered.
Sifa reached out and stroked Ka-bes's arm. Ka-bes looked then at Sifa, concern in her eyes, a kind of guilt. Sifa patted her arm and shook her head.
“None of that,” Gartan whispered in Sifa’s ear, his accent strange, thick, harsh.
Sifa jerked her hand away and glared back at him.
Gartan did not return her gaze. His dark spectacles dangled from his neck and he looked past her with his pale blue eyes, eyes almost the same shade as Sifa’s own, but his pupils were round instead of barred. With his black mask now removed, she studied his pale white skin and pale blond hair like nothing Sifa had ever seen in her life and travels—like a wraith, odd and disquieting.
Gartan dragged Che-su’s limp body behind him, her head lolling from side to side. She moaned. A black collar hugged her neck as well. He stopped and said, “What’s that clicking noise?”
Sifa glared back at him and strained her ears listening, but heard nothing.
“Now it’s gone,” Gartan said.
“You’re imagining things,” Dyuh Mon said, dismissing Gartan’s words with a wave of his hand.
Lunan scurried at Dyuh Mon’s side, stopping to examine the walls, touching them, whispering to himself.
“Lunan, my new friend, you have done well for yourself by your actions,” Dyuh Mon said, patting Lunan on the back, his lips pulling back from his pointed teeth. “It takes a special person to gain benefit from informing on his very own family. I brought you along only because I expected you to betray the cause, but you have remained faithful.”
Ka-bes's hands tightened into fists as she walked, her shoulders rising up with tension.
“As it states in the Analects,” Lunan said, his head bobbing in subservience, “one will be most blessed who prizes the good of the empire above all else.”
“Yes,” Dyuh Mon said, glancing at him, his eyes sparkling, his tone cheerful, “I guess betraying your sister the first time made it that much easier to betray her a second.”
Ka-bes and Ja’ast both stopped. Confusion clouded Ka-bes's face. Sifa stopped beside her, her gaze shifting from Ka-bes to Dyuh Mon to Lunan and back. Lunan lowered his head and walked on, following Dyuh Mon.
“What?” Ja’ast said. “I don’t think I understand what you’re saying.”
Dyuh Mon opened a door, his face twisting in mock revelation, the hinges of the door creaking and popping with age and disuse. “Oh? You didn’t realize he’s the one who told us about you two cheating on your exams?” He laughed and walked into the chamber beyond the door.
“Lunan?” Ka-bes said. “Why?”
Ja’ast whispered, “Motherfucker.”
Sifa gasped and stared up at Ja’ast, retreating from the ferocity of his face.
“Let’s go.” Gartan touched Ka-bes's and Ja’ast’s backs and they began plodding forward once more, the two of them glaring at each other.
Sifa stared at the door, her abdomen fluttering with fear at the stink of death heavy in the draft coming from this room. Evil magic filled the air around her with malice and hate.
“That was a bad bit of judgment.” Dyuh Mon ambled through the room, shaking his head and grinning back at them. “Throwing away a promising career for a few nights of the old in and out. Tsk, tsk. You might have been a rector by now, ruling a town, looking after its citizens, keeping them on schedule.”
“I would not trade the life I’ve lived for the one you’re prattling on about,” Ka-bes said.
“Easy to say when you had no choice.” Dyuh Mon stopped in the middle of the room and the magelights flickered on, revealing arcane symbols and runes carved into the floor, into the columns, into the ceilings, the very stone shimmering with a thick sheen of magic. At the far end of the room an altar waited, composed of the same black material as the collars. A skeleton lay crumbled against one of the columns, and chunks of the floor had been hacked out.
Sifa’s stomach cramped, the magic almost choking her, the same vile magic as that on the altars in Mendenen and Ofo.
“Why are we here?” Gartan asked, his voice almost a growl. “We should be escorting the demigod to Vellin.”
“No need for that.” Dyuh Mon smiled across at the man. “This is the perfect place for this kind of sacrifice. Did you ever think we’d be back here again? Together? Time has passed so quickly and things have changed so much.”
“You left me to die here,” Gartan said in a dry, detached voice as he scooped up a rusted blade from the floor and stared at it. He swung it back and forth with impossible speed. “Are you sure that’s the memory you want me to recall?”
Dyuh Mon swatted his hand toward Gartan. “You have no sense of history.” He pointed to two points of a star etched into the floor. “Ka-bes, kneel here. Ja’ast, there.”
Ka-bes stepped back. “No.”
Ja'ast looked around, crouching, his breathing now rapid and guttural.
“You have no choice in the matter.” Dyuh Mon balled his hand into a fist and whispered. Sparks of energy erupted from their collars. Ka-bes's torso stiffened and she lurched, step by step, to the place Dyuh Mon had indicated, with Ja'ast doing the same.
“I suppose we’ll place Che-su here.”
Gartan shook his head. “But shouldn’t we—”
“No,” Dyuh Mon said, raising his hand. “Would you just shut up already? I have important work to do, and this is work far beyond your station.”
Gartan pitched Che-su’s body forward, sliding it with unerring accuracy to the point Dyuh Mon had indicated. Gartan strode past and squatted beside a pillar, staring at them with those cold eyes of his, frowning.
“You,” Dyuh Mon pointed at Sifa and crooked his finger. “Come here.” He patted the black stone altar.
“I don’t think so,” Sifa said, shaking her head and backing up.
Dyuh Mon closed his fist once more, staring at her intently. Her collar exploded into sparks, but they felt just as tiny pinpricks to her—not enough pain to make her do something, and not nearly enough pain to make her get up on that vile altar.
“Nope,” she said, shaking her head, stumbling backward, her collar spitting out sparks. “Uh-uh.”
Gartan appeared behind her, moving like a shadow, grabbing her arms in a grip of iron. “She shouldn’t—”
“I know.” Dyuh Mon raised his palm toward Gartan and walked around to the rear o
f the altar. “Her damned heritage. Just put her on the altar and let Lunan hold her down.”
Gartan picked Sifa up with a supernatural ease and carrying her to the altar in a heartbeat. “But—”
“I have everything under control,” Dyuh Mon said, glaring at Gartan. “I don’t need some stinking Onei barbarian to tell me how to conduct a proper sacrifice.”
SIFA TWISTED AND SQUIRMED, straining as hard as she could, but she did not budge in Gartan’s grip until Gartan dumped her onto the altar. Lunan scurried forward and grabbed her arms, but he overbalanced and the two tumbled to the floor by the altar. He wrapped his arms around her. She kicked him and shifted in his grasp.
“Fine,” Gartan said, slamming his palm on the altar and glaring at Dyuh Mon. He stormed around the altar, heading toward a door leading deeper into the mountain. “If you need me, call me, but I might not hear you. I’m going to pay my respects to Simthil’s memory and to the last place I was a free man.”
“You do that.” Dyuh Mon waved Gartan on, like a parent shooing a child away from a hot flame. The wizard opened a hidden door, revealing a cabinet behind the wall with golden chalices and blood-stained daggers. “You just go and mope around, whining about how rough your miserable life is, how much you miss your wife and your son. Boo hoo. I’ll come and get you when it’s time to leave.”
The Onei disappeared into the shadows beyond the door.
Dyuh Mon turned back with a derisive scoff. “Place her on the altar and keep her still, Lunan.”
Lunan struggled to his feet, picking up Sifa and shoving her onto the altar. “I don’t think I’ll be able to hold her still. Maybe Gartan—”
The slimy stone of the altar buzzed against her skin, the infernal magics locked within greedily exploring her, scratching at her like a bush of stinging nettles.
