“Tell the harpy to open her gates for my emissary, who comes to deliver terms of peace.”
Astlin drew the blanket tighter around herself. “Why should I do a damn thing for you?”
Zay’s face twisted into an expression so hideous that it stole her breath.
“I have many servants,” said Shaiel. “But to Avalon I send your husband. He shall instruct the harpy in my will. If all is done as he advises, the pain of my Law shall rest lightly on her people. Defiance—including failure to admit my emissary—will call down such punishments as were undreamt of even in hell.”
Hope glimmered within Astlin’s fear. “What about Xander? Will you release him once he delivers your message?”
“My eyes are fixed on Avalon’s gate,” Shaiel said. “If it remains unopened six days hence, I shall consider the harpy’s defiance an act of war. “All my armies shall besiege Avalon from all sides until the Well runs dry. No quarter will be given; no pleas for parley heeded. Tell her.”
Astlin’s light burned brighter. “Not until you tell me what happens to Xander!”
“All captives shall be mine to dispose of at my whim. Now, quench your filthy light and tell her!”
The silver cord wending through the ether pulled away from the back of Zay’s neck. As it retreated through the mist, the remaining gold cord pumped sallow light into his soul. The boy’s skin paled, and his already lean form became hollow and emaciated, as if the golden light were eating him from the inside.
“Stop!” Astlin cried. She rushed toward Zay. His skin was blackening and pulling away from his bones as she reached him. With a faint whimper, he collapsed into a pile of cold ash on the white carpet.
Astlin’s cry became a scream when the black cube pulled Zay’s golden cord free of his ashes and whipped it across her face. Pain like an icy razor slashing her eyes plunged the world back into darkness. Astlin fell in after it.
Enthroned by herself on the council hall dais, Nakvin didn’t mind that her two other tribunal members were late. After the night that she and Jaren had spent together, she felt better than she had in years.
Nakvin scanned the crowd gathered between the hall’s double row of pillars but didn’t see Jaren’s face. She wasn’t surprised. Though he’d tacitly accepted her offer to attend the morning audience, Jaren hated pomp and formality.
With court already half an hour behind schedule, the nobles and commoners were fidgeting, and the court officers were shifting their feet. The susurrus of conversation hovering under the high rafters gradually rose in volume.
Elena and Astlin would have to jump in mid-session. It was time to get started.
“This general audience is now convened,” Nakvin announced over the din.
When the crowd had quieted down, she turned to the officer in charge of petitioners.
“Who’s first?”
The uniformed Gen escorted a thin woman to the foot of the dais. Nakvin recognized her ruddy complexion and the brown hair she’d gathered up in a bun.
She’s one of the Nesshin who landed yesterday.
“Please state your name,” the officer said.
“Marse of Clan Rix,” the woman said, her eyes darting around the hall.
“Welcome to the court of Seele, Marse,” said Nakvin. “Do you have a request for me?”
Marse wrung her hands. “Yes, ma’am. I don’t want to sound ungrateful for the lovely rooms you gave us, but my boy Zay wasn’t in his bed this morning. The guard said he’d keep an eye out but thinks my son’s off playing. That isn’t like Zay, so I thought I’d bring it to you.”
The great doors at the back of the hall slammed open. Several people in the court gasped, including Nakvin. She rose to look over the startled crowd and saw Astlin storming in followed by two guards. The black skirt of her new silk and velvet dress fluttered in her wake.
What she lacks in manners she makes up for in boldness, Nakvin thought. But something about the Zadokim’s entrance troubled her.
“Come and join me, Astlin,” Nakvin said, patting the scarlet backrest of the gilded throne on her left. “I saved you a seat.”
Instead of climbing the dais, Astlin drew Marse aside. No words passed between them.
She’s using telepathy.
Finally, Astlin spoke in a voice shaking with anger and dread. “I’m sorry, Marse.”
Tears flowed freely down Marse’s red cheeks. She pressed both hands to her mouth to stifle a wail. Astlin wrapped her arms around the Nesshin woman and held her as she wept.
A number of nobles stood to demand explanations. The agitated crowd threatened to become an outraged mob.
“Quiet!” Nakvin shouted, lacing the command with a Working. The hall fell silent.
“Tell me what happened,” she said to Astlin in a gentle but firm voice.
Astlin faced Nakvin with a look so intense that her blue eyes seemed to shine with their own internal light.
Zay came to my room last night with a message from Shaiel, she told the queen telepathically. He died when he’d delivered it.
The cold fear evident on Astlin’s face poured into Nakvin’s heart. It can’t be Shaiel! How could he get past me and Elena?
“Change of plans,” Nakvin announced. “Court is adjourned until further notice.”
She descended the steps and turned to one of the guards who’d escorted Astlin up the aisle. “Show our friend Marse to a safe comfortable room. Take her statement when she feels up to it.”
To the other guard she said, “Find Elena, Anris, and Jaren. Tell them we’re meeting in my private dining room.”
Finally, she motioned for Astlin to follow her. “You’re with me.”
Nakvin headed for the door without waiting for an answer. When she exited into the hallway, she was glad to hear Astlin speak up.
“Thanks for taking this seriously. Anyone else would think I’m crazy.”
“Crazy or not,” Nakvin said, “you’re worth taking seriously.”
29
Astlin sat at a long table of red mahogany beside Jaren, who looked mildly puzzled but relaxed. Seated immediately to Jaren’s right at table’s head, Nakvin kept glancing at the door, where Anris stood waiting on the others.
Astlin’s eyes wandered over the royal dining room and lingered on hunting scenes adorning dark wood walls. A brass chandelier hung from the low ceiling and shed warm light from Worked fixtures. An unlit brick fireplace fronted with richly carved paneling dominated the wall behind Nakvin. A trace of pipe smoke haunted the air.
The room’s luxuries didn’t loosen the knot in Astlin’s stomach. She turned her mind to her new dress.
Astlin hated wearing formal clothes in any life. But even though her new gown definitely qualified, it was also the most comfortable garment she’d ever owned. Somehow the long skirt didn’t restrict her movements, and she remained cool despite its high neck and long sleeves.
And according to the royal dressmaker, the gold, dark purple, and wine-colored embellishments held Workings that made the fabric almost indestructible. That didn’t mean she could safely walk into a burning house or shrug off bullets, but at least her clothes would hardly ever need repairs.
The sound of a door opening called Astlin’s attention to the far wall, where a young girl in a green velvet dress slipped through an entrance hidden behind the panels. The white silk ribbon in her brown hair bobbed as she carried a silver tray of wineglasses to the table.
“Thanks, Ydahl,” Nakvin said as she took a glass from the tray. Jaren also helped himself but didn’t acknowledge the girl’s presence.
Ydahl skittishly approached Astlin. “Care for some refreshments, Your Majesty?”
Having assumed that the girl was speaking to Nakvin, Astlin had to look twice before she realized that Ydahl was addressing her.
“Hi,” she said, taking a glass from the tray. “You can call me Astlin.”
Ydahl’s eyes grew wide as saucers. “Oh! I could never be so familiar with royalty, mum. I still d
on’t use my queen’s given name, even after twenty years.”
Astlin pondered the girl’s words while raising the apple-scented glass to her lips. “Are you from Temil? They thought I was a queen there, too. And you look a lot younger than twenty.”
Ydahl studied the tray in her hands. “I hate to differ with you, but I’m from Mithgar and much older than twenty. The dead stop aging when we come here.”
Astlin quickly set down her glass, spilling amber wine on the table. She shot a questioning look at Nakvin.
“This place used to be hell, remember?” Nakvin said. “What was I supposed to do with the damned, evict them?” She took a sip of wine. “Besides, I needed the help.”
Astlin turned back to Ydahl. “You died, and came here, and never saw the Nexus?”
The girl nodded without meeting Astlin’s eye.
“How long have you been here?”
“Time works differently here, mum,” said Ydahl. “Folks who came after me hadn’t even heard of Almeth Elocine, or thought he was made up. But when I was little they taught us he was real.”
Astlin did some quick calculations based on her sparse knowledge of history. She might’ve been here for centuries!
“Hell was built by ancient gods to trap souls,” said Jaren. “Ydahl is one of the later arrivals. I’ve met beings who’d been here for eons.” He drained his glass. “Before I killed them.”
A prison full of souls who’ve never been to the Nexus. The implications fascinated Astlin.
Once again, the opening of a door broke Astlin’s train of thought. This time the source of the distraction was the main entrance, where Anris ushered in a lanky figure with sandy hair whose new brown jacket and tan pants already looked rumpled.
Ydahl set down her tray so fast that more wine splashed the table. “Mister Teg!” she squealed as she ran to him and threw her small arms around his waist.
“Hey, kid,” Teg said as he ruffled her hair.
Astlin motioned from Teg to Ydahl. “You two know each other?”
“Yeah,” said Teg, hoisting Ydahl up to sit in the crook of his arm. “I shot her. You don’t forget people you shot.”
“You’re the reason she’s here?” Astlin nearly jumped out of her chair.
“He shot her after she was dead,” Nakvin explained.
Teg pulled a long sharp hatpin from Ydahl’s hair. He patted down her dress and came up with half a pair of scissors and a small sharpened screwdriver.
“Also,” he added, “she was trying to stab my friend at the time.”
Ydahl giggled.
Teg carried the girl to the table and set her down on the edge. “You get these back when we’re done,” he said, pocketing the assorted sharp objects before taking the seat across from Astlin.
With a start, Astlin realized how callous she’d been. “It’s great to have you back, Teg. Are you all healed up?”
“Good as new,” said Teg. “Thanks to you guys, and another special lady who should be coming in right behind me.”
Everyone looked to the door where, as if at Teg’s signal, Elena glided into the room. Her dress was the reverse of Astlin’s—white instead of black but with a lower neckline. Anris seated her on her mother’s right, directly across from Jaren.
“I’m glad you two could make it,” Nakvin said. “If I’d known Teg was awake, I’d have sent for him. Now let’s get down to—”
“Neither of you have silver cords,” said Elena, her rose-colored eyes looking from Jaren to Astlin.
The abrupt statement startled Astlin. She sat speechless while looking into the ether. Elena’s right. Jaren’s not connected to the Nexus.
“Why didn’t someone tell me Astlin’s here?” a familiar voice called from the servants’ entrance. The secret panel had swung open again, admitting a young man with light brown hair and strange eyes that glinted with many colors.
Astlin’s greeting died on her lips when she saw not only a silver cord, but a golden one, trailing through the ether from Tefler’s neck. Zay’s death flashed before her eyes.
“No offense, Tefler,” said Nakvin, “but I didn’t invite you. Who told you about this meeting?”
Tefler took off his grey riding jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. His white shirt’s top button was undone.
“What meeting?” he asked.
With a sigh, Nakvin waved her hand at Tefler. “I won’t ask how you wandered past the guards. Go ahead and sit down.”
Tefler sat at the foot of the table. After a moment he leaned toward Ydahl and spoke in a loud whisper.
“Can you pass me a drink?”
The girl hopped down from the table, picked up a wine glass and handed it to Tefler, who took a long swig.
“Thanks,” he said, slightly out of breath. “While you’re up, would bring me a ham on rye?”
Ydahl turned to leave but, Tefler grabbed her wrist. “And pickles. Actually, just bring the jar.”
Teg held up Ydahl’s screwdriver. “Do you want this back now?”
Ydahl grinned.
Tefler gave Teg an exaggerated frown. “Are you offering the Gouger a shiv?”
“Well,” Teg said casually, “It is hers.”
Keeping his eyes on Teg, Tefler pointed to Elena. “You’re gonna sit there in front of my mother and tell a known psychopath to shiv me?”
Teg’s eyes widened. He joined Tefler in pointing at Elena. “She’s your mother?”
Nakvin slapped her hands down on the table. “Nobody’s shivving anyone! Now, if we’re done ordering lunch and conspiring to commit armed assault, there’s important business to discuss!”
“Jaren and Astlin not having silver cords is important,” Elena said.
“Ydahl doesn’t have one either,” Astlin noted as she studied the empty ether around the girl. “Tefler has two—one gold and one silver.”
“If you’re his mom,” Teg said to Elena, “who’s the father?”
“Deim,” she said.
Teg pressed both hands to his eyes, leaned back in his chair, and groaned.
“If I’d ever met my dad, I might be insulted,” Tefler said. “Right now, I’m too hungry to care.” With a gentle shove, he sent Ydahl hurrying back through the servants’ door.
Concern replaced the anger in Nakvin’s voice. “Elena, are you saying Jaren’s dead?”
Jaren’s face fell. “It’s possible.”
A thought occurred to Astlin. “Could he be like I am?”
“The last time I saw you before Crote,” Teg said to Jaren, “you were in Tzimtzum pulling the trigger on a frontloaded rodcaster.”
“Yeah,” said Tefler. “That’ll kill you.”
Jaren held up a finger. “One problem. The damned get new bodies. But I didn’t die in hell, and I didn’t end up here afterward.”
“But the gate to the Middle Stratum was open,” Nakvin said. “And we’d just come through another gate from the Ninth Circle.”
“Frontloaded rodcasters can blow people into other Strata,” Tefler said.
Nakvin looked to Elena. “Could the rodcaster have shot Jaren out of Tzimtzum, through hell, and back to the Middle Stratum? If he died along the way, could he have ended up like the Freeholders the Exodus took on?”
“It’s possible,” said Elena, “but highly unlikely.”
Jaren folded his arms. “What are you saying?”
Tefler answered. “That you probably shouldn’t be at a secret meeting if we don’t know what you are.”
“Ask your grandmother,” Jaren said. “She’ll tell you who I am.”
“I said what, not who,” Tefler corrected him.
“Jaren,” Astlin said, “I know you don’t like the idea, but there’s a chance we can clear everything up if you let me search your memories.”
“Don’t bother,” said Elena. “I already tried.”
Nakvin stared at her daughter. “And? What did you find out?”
“Nothing,” Elena admitted. “I couldn’t read him telepathical
ly.”
“Then Jaren is like me?” said Astlin.
Elena extended a finger toward a point in space below the chandelier. A small black cube appeared. Floating in midair under one of the Worked lights, it cast a square shadow on the table.
“Mortal beings are like two-dimensional shadows cast by a nexus in the light of the Well,” Elena said, pointing at the square patch of darkness on the tabletop. “Even the cube is just a three-dimensional shadow of a hypercube—the real nexus.”
“You’re gonna need to dumb that down a few grades,” said Teg.
“You’re a flat shadow.” Elena pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m the three-dimensional shadow of my nexus. Astlin is like me, except her soul is outside the universe. Even though she doesn’t have a nexus here, our souls can interact with each other through the bodies they inform. We can read the dead because their souls are frozen inside provisional bodies.”
“What of Captain Peregrine?” asked Anris.
Astlin turned her head to look at the malakh, who could be pretty discreet even though he was nine feet tall and purple. With the way everyone else was staring, they must have forgotten about him, too.
“I’m still not sure,” Elena said. “It’s as if he’s a physical body modeled after a soul, but not tethered to or containing one.”
Jaren looked as if someone had walked over his grave while he was lying in it. “I don’t have a soul?”
“Elena said she’s not sure,” Nakvin reminded him. “The Cataclysm turned everything upside down, and you had front row seats. Who knows what kinds of weird cosmic forces you were exposed to?”
“Even so,” said Anris. “I strongly suggest that Captain Peregrine be excused from these counsels until the nature of his condition is known.”
“What?” Jaren snorted. “Do you think Vaun’s spying on us through me? Did he dump me on Crote, figuring that Teg would pick me up and Astlin would bring me here? Vaun was always too smart for his own good, but can he see the future?”
Elena shook her head. “No. His intellect is far beyond anything human, and his perceptions extend into higher dimensions, but Szodrin has shut Vaun and me out of Kairos.”
The Secret Kings Page 25
