Of the Mortal Realm

by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

  “Or that he would attack Alizarin,” Cadmia broke in, her voice as cutting as Xaz’s. Umber was very good at compartmentalizing, and had tried repeatedly to shove his own pain over Alizarin’s loss down somewhere deep in his guts. He needed to function now, to think clearly and plan now, or else they wouldn’t survive the next few hours. But every time he looked at Cadmia, or every time someone mentioned the beautiful blue prince, the grief took him by surprise. He had to swallow it down like bile.

  As he did so, Hansa added, “And in the process almost kill us all. So stop posturing, tell us what you know and what you think we should do, and then we will discuss it.”

  Verte’s silver eyes flashed, furious. He continued, his voice tight with irritation. “If we can kill Cupric, we can drive Quinacridone out of this realm, but that has been done before and we know it will not stop him for long. We need to destroy him. Most Abyssi would not dare cross the rulers of the Numen, but Modigliani has indicated that he is willing to assist—to a point—in order to protect his own realm from Numini invasion, and of course to protect his mancer.” He glanced at Cadmia for confirmation. She nodded. “But even the king of the Abyss is weak compared to Quinacridone. The only Other who might hope to stand against a high arbiter is Scheveningen, the Gressi. That is why I believe Quinacridone will soon act to kill me, and the child you’ve spoken of, Pearl. For those of you doubting my motives, I hope that clarifies them.”

  He looked directly at Umber, as if sensing that he was the staunchest doubter in the group.

  Hansa was the one who spoke up. “Why you?” he asked. “I’ve been told you’re a Gressumancer, and that you’re not a Gressumancer. I don’t understand the difference, and I don’t understand why your bloodline is so important. What are you?”

  “I’m a sorcerer,” Verte replied, with an unexpected level of patience that made Umber nervous. “I am not tied directly to one of the Others, as an Abyssumancer or a Numenmancer must be, but I have enough power from birth, bloodline, and study that I could form such a tie with a willing Abyssi or Numini—or Gressi. That is the intention of the ritual we’ve been discussing, to bond me to the slumbering Scheveningen. Otherwise, Scheveningen cannot manifest physically on this plane any more than a Numini or an Abyssi can without a mancer to summon them.”

  Hansa nodded, taking in the words, clearly parsing it, and considering what other concerns he still had. “Those killed by Abyssi dwell in the Abyss,” Hansa said, as usual happy to challenge the once-prince’s assertions. “I assume those killed by Numini likewise dwell in the Numen. My understanding was that you wanted to return to the Numen, and were willing to go to war against them to get there. That seems to give you a conflict of interest in fighting Quinacridone, if you might get everything you want if he kills you.”

  “Even if I were inclined to abandon my responsibility to Kavet and rest blithely in Numen grace,” Verte bit out, his patience clearly expiring, “if Quinacridone were willing to slay his enemies with divine power and embrace them in the Numen, he wouldn’t have left you all alive. He already has one Abyss-tainted follower happy to do his bidding and could get more. He can find a way to murder without needing to bring the slain soul home.”

  Verte tried to conceal it but there at last Umber saw a flash of fear, and with it a motivation he believed: yes, Verte wanted to return to the Numen, but even more, he feared a return to the Abyss.

  Hansa had done a good job addressing the same questions Umber had, so Umber jumped ahead to the next part of the conversation. “I agree with Hansa—I don’t trust you—but you make a good point why we need you. So what exactly is your plan?”

  “With the necromancer’s help, I will tie myself to Scheveningen,” Verte answered shortly. “Once that is done, I can wake him from his slumber. Together we will be able to drive Quinacridone from this realm. Unfortunately, while Arylide and I do that, we will be vulnerable. We will need protection.” He looked up at Naples, who took the cue.

  “Modigliani will help,” Naples said, “but as you’ve said, even he isn’t invincible. We need to control Quinacridone long enough for you to complete the ritual. Dioxazine might be able to slow Quinacridone down, but we also have Cupric to contend with. He isn’t as powerful as I am, but he could still distract Modigliani, and if we kill Cupric, Quinacridone will return to the Numen and we’ll lose our chance to bind him.”

  “Quinacridone’s Abyssumancer, by definition, has an Abyssi patron who surely is not pleased with the situation. That Abyssi will be able to control Cupric, and through him steal power from Quinacridone.”

  “That Abyssi is Sennelier,” Umber provided. “He won’t want his mancer killed, either.”

  Hansa met his gaze briefly with a concerned query and a thought along the lines of, Is that a concern for you? Umber shook his head and shrugged it off. Technically Sennelier was his sire, but he was in no way a father. Summoning him meant no more to Umber than calling any other Abyssi would.

  “Even I can’t summon two Abyssi at once,” Naples pointed out to Verte, “and you can’t summon Sennelier and Scheveningen at the same time.”

  Verte turned his eyes—now once more a deep, calm gray, as if the conversation was now going exactly the way he wanted it to—on Hansa.

  Umber tensed. Hansa had some Abyssal power, but nowhere near enough to summon an Abyssi. That wasn’t even something Umber could do.

  Naples let out a surprised, “Oh. Of course.”

  “Of course . . . what?” Hansa asked, at the same time Umber realized what Verte was implying. No wonder Verte had been willing to explain about mancer bonds and summoning Others to the Quin.

  “As plans go,” Naples said, thinking aloud as if he and Verte hadn’t left half the room confused, “it isn’t a bad one. Hansa is—”

  “Wait,” Hansa interrupted, catching up as Naples spoke. “It takes a mancer to summon an Abyssi and tie it to this realm. I’m not a mancer. According to Alizarin, even Antioch gave up on me. Remember?”

  “Rin also said it would be easy for another Abyssi to claim you,” Cadmia said, “since all the preparation had been done already.”

  “An Abyssi can’t have two mancers, can they?” Lydie asked. “Sennelier already has one.”

  “And Antioch doesn’t want to be involved,” Hansa said. “We don’t have a lot of Abyssi friends we can just go to and ask—”

  “We have Alizarin,” Naples broke in softly. “We have a knife made of his bone, designed specifically to tie his power to a mortal. You do still have it, don’t you, Cadmia?”

  “Umber has it.” He had carried it for her, since it wasn’t safe to have in the Cobalt Hall.

  “Won’t . . . will Alizarin fight us?” Cadmia asked, her voice tight. “He doesn’t know us anymore.”

  “That’s why he won’t fight us,” Naples answered, his tone equally subdued. “We are asking nothing of him, and giving him a valuable power source. A mancer bonded to one of the spawn.” Returning his attention to Verte, he asked bitterly, “Do you know what happens to one of the spawn when they’re bonded to a mancer?”

  “As far as I can tell,” Terre Verte replied, “these two are functioning quite well together, not bonded together in impossible circumstance, the way you and Azo were. I don’t see that it would make a difference, especially if they intend for it to last in the short term. Once this is done, they may still choose to break the bond anyway.”

  Hansa started at the reminder, as if that thought hadn’t crossed his mind in a while.

  “I still don’t understand,” Lydie objected. “What is the connection between Alizarin and Sennelier and Cupric?”

  “A mancer’s patron isn’t the only Abyssi he can interact with,” Verte explained. Given the way his gaze lingered on Hansa while he spoke, Umber suspected he was again willingly clarifying only because he assumed Hansa would be too ignorant to follow the logic. “In this case, we’re setting Alizarin up as Hansa’s patron, but only so he has the power to summon another Abyssi. Alizarin
is not our ally in this, only a tool we can use to bring Sennelier over.”

  Umber saw Cadmia flinch and clench her jaw, her eyes narrowing at the description of her lover. He put a hand on her arm and squeezed gently, intending to be comforting, but when she put a hand over his he realized he was seeking comfort in the contact, too.

  “It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Umber said, “but only if it’s something Hansa is willing to do.” He thought by now Hansa knew enough to make an informed decision, but he wanted to make sure one particular point was clear. “Hansa, even if we break the bond between us, if you agree to this, we won’t be able to break your connection to the Abyss afterwards. A mancer can’t survive being severed permanently from his patron.”

  “I . . .” Hansa sighed, and scrubbed at his rough-stubble face. “I need to think.”

  “We don’t have much time,” Verte pointed out.

  “Give him a minute,” Xaz snapped. “Rushing to decisions hasn’t been good for anyone here.”

  “No,” Hansa agreed, “but he’s right. I know we’re short on time. I just . . .” He looked down at Naples, then at Cadmia, then Lydie. “Fuck. I’m not giving you all up. I might as well join the team.”

  “That’s sweet,” Verte drawled.

  “Before we go into the technical details of making a mancer, we still haven’t answered the question of how we get into the Cobalt Hall,” Lydie pointed out, ever-practical. “Veronese says this needs to be done there, but mancers can’t even cross the threshold.”

  “In my day they could,” Verte replied. “It took me a great deal of effort to divine why, but at last I determined it. Scheveningen is bonded to the Terre line, but that bond was broken when I was killed, and Clay was not raised for the throne—for the land. The Cobalt Hall started to reject those with power when the country, led by the Quin movement, started to do the same. As such, one of two things should enable us to enter: either my blessing as a Terre, or the blessing of the chosen leader of the country.”

  The last was directed at Hansa, and Umber could hear the snarl of hostility in it.

  “Wait—I was right?” Hansa asked, eyebrows raising. “It is responding to the laws?” Umber chuckled despite himself at the bright spark of pride in Hansa’s mind. “I’m not leader yet,” he added.

  “No, but enough people see you as one that it might work,” Xaz agreed. “I helped with that scrying.”

  “Are we ready to get started?” Verte snapped.

  “One more concern,” Lydie said, to which Terre Verte nodded. “Most of us can’t see Quinacridone to fight him, which if I understand correctly is a good thing, since mortals who see the Numini go mad.” She paused, regarding Verte, and probably wondering the same thing Umber had been earlier: how reliable was he going to be once Quinacridone stood before him? “The Numen taint has faded from Hansa, Umber, and Naples. That’s good, except I know that because I can still see that power on Xaz, you, and Cadmia—which implies it’s also on me, which makes me worry how seeing Quinacridone is going to affect Cadmia and me.”

  Xaz answered, her voice soft but confident. “Part of controlling Quinacridone,” she said, “is suppressing her power. It isn’t the form that enchants, no matter how lovely it might be, but the divinity. You two can stay behind until Modigliani and I have the Numini under control, by which point you should be safe. From that, at least.”

  “This might not be a big deal to anyone else,” Naples broke in, “but is Quinacridone a guy or a girl? Last time I saw him, he was male, or at least possessing a man. Now you’re saying she.”

  “The Others—Numini and Abyssi both—don’t have a decided form or sex,” Dioxazine answered, tone dismissive. “They choose their forms when they appear to mortals.”

  “Well.” Naples sat back, patting Umber’s knee idly. “That makes sense.”

  “Are we ready, then?” Terre Verte asked, rising.

  As Hansa, Umber, and Naples seperated themselves to stand, Cadmia spoke.

  “If you or Hansa can allow us into the Cobalt Hall, and in effect decide who can or cannot enter, than why can’t you just refuse to let Quinacridone and Cupric in until we’ve woken Scheveningen?”

  “Maybe we can.” Terre Verte shrugged. “But the magic guarding the Hall is unconscious and reactive, not specifically controlled. Once the walls against power are down, I believe it will be all-or-nothing. If I’m wrong, we will have an unexpected advantage, but the plan we have now will work even in a worst-case scenario.”

  “Mm.” Hansa let out a noncommittal sound, as if seeming to recall something. “Speaking of,” he joked, tensely, “do you think we could possibly save the world quickly? I’m supposed to have breakfast with my mother.”

  Chapter 43

  Cadmia

  The dawn would break soon; it was still dark outside the window, but Cadmia could feel the new day pressing against her as she watched Naples, Umber, and Hansa prepare Hansa for the first step of the plan.

  “How will this affect Alizarin?” Cadmia asked. She knew he wasn’t the man he had been anymore, but it still felt strange using him, without his knowledge or consent.

  “He will feel the connection, and the extra power it gives him,” Naples answered. “It’s no threat to him, so I doubt—” For a moment, his voice choked, as the words brought home again how different Alizarin was now. “He won’t care. Most Abyssi are protective of their mancers since creating one takes such a commitment, but since Alizarin didn’t have to do anything to make this bond, I doubt he’ll bother. He’ll accept the power it gives him. He’ll use it to help him consolidate his place in the court. He won’t question it.” Knowing it needed to be said, he added, “It won’t hurt him in any way.”

  Cadmia nodded. Swallowed. “Thank you.”

  A moment of silence passed, as Naples contemplated the arm-length black knife made of Alizarin’s bone with reverence. In his gaze, Cadmia saw the same shadow of loss, pain, and rage that she could feel in herself.

  “I’ll return it,” he promised, before turning back to Hansa.

  Naples hesitated again, at which point Hansa seemed to realize he was holding his breath; he let that one out in a rush and shakily drew another.

  “Umber,” Naples said, “you might want to sit down. You will feel this through the bond.”

  “He should sit?” Hansa asked, sounding a little closer to hysterical now. Umber moved back to the chair he had earlier occupied, though he stretched out an arm to keep hold of Hansa’s hand. “Should I ask what we need to do to make this . . . mancer . . . link?” Hansa asked, as Naples shifted his grip on the bone blade, flipping it deftly about his fingers.

  Xaz asked, “Do you remember how a link to the Abyss was forced on me?”

  Hansa frowned, as if unsure—and then his eyes widened, and Umber hooked an arm around his waist, holding him, as he tried to step back. Dioxazine’s link to Alizarin had formed when an Abyssumancer had thrown the knife at her, burying it deep in her stomach. “Is it too late to change my—”

  Before Hansa had finished speaking, Cadmia saw the nebula of power around Naples flare. When he stepped in close to Hansa, the move had the grace of a dancer on stage, including his lifted arm. Hansa let out a squeak that might have been all of a scream that could make it past his clenched jaw, and was certainly all he had time for, before Alizarin’s knife slid cleanly between Hansa’s ribs. Cadmia knew without a doubt that Naples had aimed for the heart, and had found it flawlessly.

  Hansa swayed, not immediately falling, and Naples stepped forward so when he did fall, the Abyssumancer could catch him and lower him gently, one arm around Hansa’s waist while the other stayed on the knife.

  Naples worked quickly, his gaze distant as if he was viewing things Cadmia could not see—such as the third level of the Abyss, and the blue prince there? When he released the knife, he smoothed a hand across Hansa’s chest, away from the blade and toward his shoulder. A blue-black veil of power followed, spreading from the wound.

>   Cadmia had to look away. Dioxazine and Verte, she realized, were both watching with impassive expressions. Neither of them seemed surprised or worried. Lydie was staring at Hansa with curiosity, but without fear. What was the necromancer seeing? A veil of death? Or was she interested because the mortal blow hadn’t resulted in . . .

  Cadmia bit her lip and sat down. He looked dead.

  No, don’t look.

  She raised her gaze again, and this time focused on Umber, who had slumped in his chair, unconscious but breathing steadily. Noticing, Lydie moved next to him to keep him from falling.

  At last, Hansa drew a gasping, rattling breath, drawing Cadmia’s gaze back to him as his entire body shuddered. His eyes opened, but never focused as Naples used a barb on the back of his ring to cut a line over his own heart. Cadmia nearly laughed when Lydie said, “Eww,” as Hansa latched onto the wound.

  One arm still tightly around the once-Quin’s back, Naples twined the fingers of his other hand with Hansa’s. He shut his eyes, drew a breath, and Cadmia saw flame flicker into life around their locked hands. Hansa flinched, trying to pull away, but Naples held tight.

  When Naples finally pulled back, Hansa collapsed, coughing. The hand Naples had gripped was burned from fingertips to elbow, but as Cadmia watched, the flesh began to reform as healthy skin. Hansa ripped the knife from his own chest without seeming to know what he was doing, and it clattered to the floor.

  At last, the coughing subsided, and Hansa’s breathing returned to normal. He had nearly stopped shaking before his eyes finally focused on the knife. He lifted a hand to his chest, which had healed over, leaving only the white shine of a single slender scar over his heart.

  “Oh, my,” he whispered. Then, “Umber.” He nearly fell the first time he tried to stand, and Naples had to catch him. Umber, however, was already rousing.

  “That was even more unpleasant than I imagined,” Umber managed to say, as Hansa half crawled, practically into his lap.