Tam and his sons prepared to leave. I took up the rear, which seemed a natural position for the youngest. I tried not to trail too far behind as we left the dingy chamber. But with the immediate danger over, the reality of what I was doing and where I was, settled in. It made me feel a bit giddy being here in the Empire, seeing my people at the height of their power. This was the one place and time where magic wasn’t reviled. It wasn’t punished or belittled. Shinree were free to live as they pleased, to be themselves without fear or apology.
Such freedom was something I’d never had. Something I’d never thought to see.
My fascination increased as the hallway emptied out into the middle of Tam’s lavish home. The walls were decked in exquisite paintings. Frilly plants hung from a wooden trellis running along the ceiling. Their tendrils draped down over an elaborate sitting area with fountains and brightly colored couches. A double row of golden sconces lit the expansive space. The flames burned brightly, making the walls glimmer and the floor tiles sparkle. The tiles were decorated with flecks of what felt like citrine. I couldn’t tell for sure with the large variety of stones scattered about the room. Lapis, jasper, and ruby sat in bowls on the mantle; raw and uncut. Fragments of garnet, emerald, opal, and carnelian were sewn into the curtains and the tapestries. Obsidian, hematite, emerald, spinal, and a few others were sewn into our clothes. The combined weight of their auras, and of those spread throughout the entire house, was rich and flustering.
I passed by a floor-length mirror and stopped dead in my tracks. Looking through another man’s eyes, seeing myself as a young, skinny, messy-haired, grim-looking stranger, rattled me. I found the man standing in the shadowy background of my reflection just as troubling.
Remarkably slight in build, his hair was trimmed. He wore no beard. Sparse, neat clothing covered his swarthy skin. I detected no ire or animosity on him. His gaze was gloomy and set slightly downward. The man’s entire face was angled down in the distant, drooping, dispirited way all slaves were prone to.
Langorians of the past were far different than the ones of my time.
More were lurking about. Docile and obedient, they stood in the shadows, awaiting their next command. It made me wonder where Tam’s kept his ‘farm’ stock and how he prevented draining his house slaves when he cast. Surely not all Shinree of the past were adept at choosing a magic-price.
Realizing I’d stopped, Tam came back for me. “Is something wrong, son?”
I shook off my empathy for the slaves before he noticed. “Of course not.” Tam was watching me closely. I dipped down into the personality of Varos, searching for an answer his father would accept. “Hungry,” I blurted. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry. Yet, somehow, you’re no bigger than my thumb.” Tam smiled. Not a drop of delight touched the expression. “Come. Eat all you want as we entertain our guests. Just bear in mind, I’m considering taking the lady for a second wife, so for the gods’ sake, no politics. She’s a distinguished member of the Ruling House. She’ll find your immature views insulting at best.”
He’s not yet emperor. Not if the house is still in power.
I bowed my head. “Yes, father.”
Tam crossed the luxuriant sitting room. Throwing open a set of silver trimmed, double doors, he walked out onto a well-lit balcony. My brothers strode obediently after. Two had yet to speak. They both looked formidable and bright and I tried to decide which one of them was Davyk, the man who would change the entire course of Shinree existence by supplying the Rellans with the formula for Kayn’l. Next, I deliberated what killing him would do. If Davyk was indeed the only Reth to survive, would I cease to exist? Would pulling out one piece collapse the whole pile?
In some perverse way I was tempted to find out.
I moved outside. The refreshing night air washed over Varos’ skin. The table, a long, rectangular stone piece, was laden with a generous display of food and drink. Glass platters had been left before each seat. In their centers were portions of meat; formed into small spirals and surrounded by moats of thick, dark gravy. A wall of crusty bread held the gelatinous liquid back, followed by a ring of assorted, sliced vegetables. The showy fare was meant as samples only, to whet the appetite. But the helpings were generous enough to feed an entire family of refugees at the camp.
Varos’ mouth watered at the smoky meat. I ignored the urge and continued on to the edge of the balcony. Somehow, I managed not to gasp audibly. I couldn’t stop my throat from tightening, though. The city was more expansive and beautiful than I ever dreamed. I didn’t know where to look first.
Gleaming, twisted spires stretched into the star covered sky. Soaring statues and golden columns sparkled in the light of immense fire pits, strategically placed so that no section of the city was left dark. There were pools and gardens, open markets, aqueducts, amphitheaters, temples, and plazas. And there were people. There were so many Shinree gathered in the streets, I couldn’t guess their numbers. The entire city looked as if it were one moving, colorful mass.
Watching them, listening to the murmur of their voices, the music they made, their laughter as they strolled; I wanted to laugh with them. There were perfumes and oils and cooking fires on the breeze. Sweet blossom trees lined the roads. The overlapping smells were heady and wonderful. I breathed them in deep, relishing in the banquet of new, diverse aromas.
I caught a glimpse of the multi-colored feathers of two night birds singing in the tree below the balcony. A lonely howl sounded in the distance. It might have been a dog or a wolf, but the sorrowful cadence reminded me of the eldring mothers in Langor. I wondered if some of the creatures were being held nearby. It wasn’t a thought I could linger on long, though. There was simply too much magic tugging at my focus. The volume of spells at play, the excess of energy blowing off the swarm of stone-swathed bodies, made the air crisp and pungent. It was exhilarating. Yet, as I sat down at the table and the meal began, no one else appeared to notice the intoxicating vibrations. They were conditioned to it. Even Tam seemed unaffected. If my father was in there, he’d probably gotten used to it by now. I could definitely see him getting used to the lifestyle.
Sumptuous feasts, an extravagant home, servants attending his every whim. Tam Reth wasn’t even emperor yet and he lived like a King. His sons certainly filled the roles of spoiled princes. The one called Gann enjoyed throwing his scraps on the floor so he could laugh at the Langorian man who came to clean them up. Saan’ric and Lev each sent their plates back twice, with promises of pain for the cook if they weren’t spiced appropriately. After identifying Davyk, I wasn’t surprised what his future held. He sat, looking outwardly bored, taking it all in with his calculating eyes and shrewd ears. Not once was he caught unaware when his opinion was requested. Whether the topic shifted to politics, gardening, the outdated rules of arena fighting, or the jaw-dropping gown that Lady Andress wore to the theater last week— was it a bold new trend, or a fiasco never to be seen again—the man had a handle on every damn thing that went on in the city. It made me grateful Fate saw fit to land me in the body of the youngest Reth. Though it hadn’t gotten off to a good start, it mercifully excused me from the bulk of the entertaining. Allowed to sit in relative peace and eat better than I had in a long time, I also had ample occasion to take in the sites of the city, and our table.
Besides Tam’s honored guest (an older but stunning woman in her own right), there were her three lovely daughters, and my little courtesan. Es’alyn was quiet and shy, but enticing in her gown of red silk. Her coy smile confirmed she had affection for Varos. Yet, she was reluctant to show it under the watchful eye of the boy’s father whose intrusive stare communicated disapproval with the briefest glance.
Conspicuously missing from dinner was Tam’s wife. Whether she hadn’t been invited, or chose not to watch her husband seduce another woman, her absence put no damper on the evening. The Reth brothers, having availed themselves of copious amounts of food and drink, were now pairing off with our guest�
�s equally inebriated daughters. Staggering away from the table, practically disrobing before they left the balcony, no one protested the couplings; least of all the girls’ mother. The esteemed member of the Ruling House was too busy letting Tam slip the key to his private bathhouse down inside her bodice. After, she sashayed off and left the three of us at the table in uncomfortable silence.
I turned to Es’alyn. “Go on. I’ll join you in my chamber shortly.”
She dipped her head. “Yes, My Lord.”
With a curtsy to Tam, Es’alyn left the balcony. The door closed behind her and Tam pushed his chair back from the table. Cup in hand, he grabbed a pitcher and made his way over. After pausing to fill my cup, he took his to the rail. Leaning against it, letting the breeze blow over him, Tam threw me a glance. “You were quiet tonight, Varos.”
“Isn’t that what you asked of me?” I replied.
“Yes. But I didn’t expect you to listen.”
“Tonight was important to you.” I picked up my drink and joined him. “What kind of son would I be if I didn’t respect that?”
“A young, idealistic, insolent one?”
I grinned—until he went on.
“And that’s what perplexes me, Varos. Such a deep-seated attitude as yours cannot be broken, let alone shaken overnight. Which begs me to wonder the cause.”
“Perhaps your superior influence has at last sunk in?”
Tam grunted at my flattery. “I like you, Varos. Despite your immature need to contradict and discomfort me at every turn. Your brothers, however, I find agonizingly shortsighted. They’re driven by greed and gluttony in spite of their immense wealth. You possess an inner strength. A gift for independent thought I don’t see often enough. But there is also innocence. And that,” Tam said sharply, “must go. Things are coming, Varos. Things you will need my protection to survive. I have much knowledge to share. I can make you stronger. Better. It’s all I ever wanted for him.”
The warning bells going off, I said, “Him?”
Tam took a quick drink. He stared out at the bustling city. “I had a son before all of you.” He threw a vague hand out. “Before all of this.”
My suspicions deepening, I feigned shock. “Where is he?”
The word came out as a snarl, “Dead.” Tam tried to cover the emotion with a dismissive wave. “It was a rather lackluster end considering his lineage. A battlefield would have been more fitting for his gifts…and his temperament.”
“What happened to him?”
“He abandoned me. It was his mother’s fault. She tainted him, watered him down. Ruined him,” he scowled. “She made him less. All I ever wanted was to make him more. But I waited too long. I should have taken him when he was born. Maybe things would have been different if we’d been together.”
Those are my words, I thought. I’d said nearly that exact same thing once to Jem.
I had no more doubts. It wasn’t Tam Reth speaking to me. It was my father.
He went on. “Because of her, the little bastard turned his nose at all that I offered. He refused my love, my guidance. I would have given him the world. At times, Varos, you remind me of him.”
The grief in Tam’s voice as Jem spoke of me was infuriating—like it was my fault, like I’d done something wrong. I needed more wine. “I’m your second chance, then,” I said, still playing Varos as I made my way back to the table. “You want me to be like him.”
“No. He was ungrateful, weak. Wasteful of his gifts. He was a disappointment to our family name.”
The bottle in my hand, I wanted to lob it at his head. “That’s why I had to kill that girl today? You want me stronger?”
“There are duties that fall to us as Guardians of the Crown. Duties beyond what you’ve been told. Watching over the Crown of Stones for generations has indeed garnered our family much respect. Our service has allowed us alone to keep that which no other born soldier has possessed in many years.”
Badly, I wanted to ask what that was. But Varos would know so I kept quiet.
“Yet,” Jem said emphatically, “we are more than guard dogs. And the crown is more than some ancient relic. I believe its power can be increased.”
“To what end?”
“To my end.” He broke a smile then, attempting to play off his odd moment of zeal. “It won’t be a simple working. We need souls and blood to do it. Which, you would know, young Varos, if your esteemed erudite teachers and the Ruling House didn’t keep everyone in the dark. They water down our history, hide the truth. They’re afraid what might happen if the story of the First Ones were to ever become known.”
The First Ones? I tried not to let my raging curiosity show. “Will you tell me?”
Tam’s attentive eyes studied Varos. “Come.” He returned his cup to the table and went back into the house. I finished my drink and followed, listening to him speak as we walked. “Long ago, life here was much different than it is now. There were no oracles, no healers, weavers, or elementals. No soldiers. Those designations were nothing but titles. We were all of us, all things. The Shinree were magically equal, without the division or separation by family or bloodline.”
“We were all erudite?”
“Yes, but erudite wasn’t a lineage then. It was more of a class distinction, a title of nobility, if you will, associated with the direct descendants of the first Shinree to ever cast magic. Those original families were the most learned and revered. They were also the most prosperous. They used their popularity to preside over the city, but held no more magical power than anyone else. No more skill. And that was the problem.” He paused in the hallway to catch my eyes. “They were the First Ones.”
Even after what the man in the past said about splitting the lines, my disbelief was genuine. “If every Shinree were once erudite, then at some point, nearly our entire race lost parts of their magic? How is that possible?”
“It wasn’t lost, Varos.” He started walking again. “It was taken—by the families of the first Shinree. They mutilated us. Gelded us like animals.” Jem glanced back with Tam’s stern eyes. “And their descendants, the erudite, in all their shining, self-righteous glory have kept the secret for generations. It was their ancestors, after all, who committed the crime.”
I couldn’t argue with his description. What was done to us was indeed criminal. But even with all I’d learned, I still didn’t understand. “Why?”
“Because they could. Lording over all, believing they were superior. Deserving. The First Ones were convinced the populous had become wicked and depraved. There was lawlessness in the streets. Protests and riots were common. Their authority was constantly challenged. They believed a military coup was imminent. And unless the self-destructive ways of the people were curbed, the downfall of the empire was inevitable. They backed up their beliefs by heralding terrible visions of the future. ”
“You mean oracle spells?”
“Oracle spells they controlled. As you know, visions are cast only with permission of the Ruling House.”
I didn’t obviously, so I lied. “Of course.”
“The First Ones enacted that law. Limiting access to the oracles allowed them to better play on the citizens’ fears. It’s a practice the House still uses to this day.”
“What happened to the First Ones?”
“They got tired of trying to control the uncontrollable. The people got tired of them. When the demand came for the First Ones to step down from their self-made thrones, they refused. That led to civil war, the creation of the Crown of Stones, the rupturing of the lines, and eventual castration of the soldiers.”
There it was again. Another veiled reference to a transgression against our specific lineage. But showing my ignorance of the details would tip my hand. And I had dozens of other questions. “How exactly would you increase the crown’s power?”
“The details remain unclear. Many of the ancient spells and rituals have long since gone to dust. What I do know is that the nine families of the First Ones agreed to
donate their own offspring for the crown’s creation. They each chose two children. One they sacrificed to the cause. With their blood and their souls, and some powerful spells, a set of nine stones—one representative of each family—was fused into a circle.”
“Our family was one of the nine?” He nodded. “And the stone that signified us?”
Tam looked me right in the eye. “Obsidian.”
Even expecting it, it was hard not to flinch. “Tell me more.”
“They tested the change on the remaining nine children. One would stay erudite. The others had their magic pared down to a single ability. Among them was a young man called Reth. He was the first Shinree soldier ever made.” Tam offered a reassuring smile to counter what was no doubt an unsettled look on Varos’ face. “It was a time of great upheaval for our people. The First Ones couched the change with promises of a great future and many bought into their rhetoric. Men, women, children, were chosen and assigned one of the nine lines. If they refused, the ritual was performed by force.”
“No one tried to stop it?”
“You know what the punishment is for criminal acts by magic, Varos: death to the offender’s entire family. If publically executing a citizen’s mother or child wasn’t an effective deterrent it wouldn’t still be in force. But, make no mistake. That spell didn’t simply divide us. It tore us apart at the core. It pulled out pieces of our magic, parts of our souls, and stored it in the stones of the crown.”
His choice of words took my thoughts back to the night Jem and I faced off in Kabri. Amid his usual rants and taunting, my father had declared with confidence: It’s a vessel.
Tam pushed open the heavy, iron door in front of him and I realized we’d made our way back to the room I arrived in. The altars were empty. The body of the girl was gone. The room was clean. The work had been done quickly and efficiently, as if disposing of bodies was a regular occurrence at Tam’s house.
He closed the door behind us. “If I can learn how to give back what was taken, I can make us all as we once were.”
The Crown of Stones: Magic-Scars Page 40
