Quest for the Sun Orb

by Laura Jo Phillips

  “To what purpose?” Kapia asked.

  Nikura’s ears twitched. “They have a way of retrieving the pyramid themselves, don’t they?”

  “Yes, that is what she believes, and I agreed,” Karma said. “Samyi said that the demons are unknowable to her. But all signs lead to that conclusion.”

  “This makes sense so far,” Zakiel said. “What is the revelation you just had?”

  “I was trying to understand why the demons would have developed a method of retrieving the pyramid, but haven’t used it. And if they need the Ti-Ank to make whatever it is work, then what happened to the tool they would have used originally, before they even knew there was a Ti-Ank?”

  “You think the artifact Marene is after is their version of a Ti-Ank,” Zakiel said.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I think,” Karma said. “Somehow it’s here, on Rathira, and for some reason they haven’t been able to retrieve it, so they’re trying to get the Ti-Ank instead.”

  “Why haven’t they gotten the demons to retrieve it?” Kapia asked. “That sounds like it would be the easiest thing to do, especially since there are already demons in Darkly Fen.”

  “The question is the answer,” Nikura said. “If they could have, they certainly would have, and long before now. It is apparent that they cannot. Or rather, could not.”

  “Why should Marene be able to do something that any other demon cannot do?” Kapia asked. “She is demon, isn’t she?”

  “If demons are equivalent to animals, and Djinn are the true intelligence controlling them, then no, Princess, I no longer believe that Marene is demon,” Nikura said. “She is intelligent, and magically powerful in her own right. She is neither Djinn, nor demon. She is no longer human, either. She is something entirely different.”

  “So, there is something that prevents both demons and humans from collecting the artifact,” Kapia said. “And that something will not apply to Marene since she is neither.”

  “That’s the theory,” Karma replied.

  “There are an awful lot of maybe’s and what-if’s to all of this,” Zakiel said. “Assuming we are correct, however, some of these Djinn made it through the tear before it was closed a thousand years ago, and were here on Rathira unbeknownst to anyone. The Vatra before me battled and killed them, and they left behind some sort of artifact which may be quite powerful, and which may enable the Djinn to control the pyramid. For some reason, the Djinn have been unable to use either demons or cin sahib to retrieve this artifact, and Marene may be capable of retrieving it.”

  “That about sums it up,” Karma said. “The question is, what, if anything, can we do about it?”

  “I suppose I could tell Bredon all of this and ask him to stop Marene from finding it,” Kapia said reluctantly.

  “Bredon would then be stuck with Marene inside of him,” Zakiel said.

  “It would be an acceptable risk if we were more certain of our facts,” Nikura said. “As it is, I think it might be better to see if Bredon can collect the artifact himself and bring it to us.”

  “Or destroy it,” Karma said.

  “If it still exists after a thousand years, I doubt that destroying it would be a simple matter, if it’s even possible,” Nikura said. “Any who tried might well be destroyed instead.”

  “Then Bredon definitely shouldn’t try to destroy it,” Kapia said tightly. “I understand, Nikura, why you believe that the loss of Bredon is an acceptable risk. I do not agree with you.”

  “Of course you don’t,” Nikura said. “I would think less of you if you did.”

  Kapia relaxed a little. “Thank you.”

  “Are you planning to attempt to speak with Sir Bredon again tonight?” Nikura asked.

  “Yes,” Kapia replied.

  “You said that he was going to try to get more information about this artifact from Marene. Let us see if he was successful. Do we know how far he is from Darkly Fen?”

  “He has been traveling toward it since a few days after we left the Sirelina,” Kapia said.

  “Timon,” Zakiel called. Timon came out of the spare chamber where he’d gone so as not to overhear their conversation.

  “Yes, Highness?” he asked.

  “The charts, please.”

  Timon nodded and hurried to the far side of the chamber. A few minutes later Zakiel had the appropriate chart unrolled. He studied it for a few minutes, then did some mental calculations. “He has about two weeks of travel before he reaches the border of Darkly Fen,” he said. “That’s a rough guess. He’s on his own, and riding, so he will travel more quickly than a large group so long as he doesn’t run into any trouble, and his diplo remains healthy.”

  “We have time then,” Nikura said. “Princess, I ask that you not tell Sir Bredon all that we have discussed just yet. For now, I see no reason to add to his worries.”

  “I agree with Nikura, Sister,” Zakiel put in. “Let us not add to his problems right now. Between having Marene in his head, and the prospect of Darkly Fen ahead of him, he has more than enough to worry about.”

  “I understand, and I agree,” Kapia said. “I don’t want to make things harder for him than they already are. And of course there is always the chance that Marene might overhear whatever I say to him.”

  “Of course, that is a risk,” Zakiel said, unsurprised that Kapia understood that as well. “When you speak with Bredon, please ask him for more specific information on his current location. It would be best if we know where he is, and how long it will be before he reaches Darkly Fen.”

  “I will, Zakiel,” Kapia said. “Speaking of which, I should go now. It grows late and I have only a few minutes left to attempt to speak with him.”

  “I’m sorry, Sister, I had no idea it was getting that late,” Zakiel said. “Please, go now.”

  Kapia stood up, then hesitated. “I’ll try to come and tell you what happens,” she said. “I might fall asleep again though.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Karma said. “We will wait till morning to hear how it went.”

  Kapia gave her a grateful smile, then left through the new doorway. When she was gone, Karma turned to Nikura. “Tell me, Nikura,” she said in a low voice, “what are Bredon’s chances of returning to us alive and well?”

  “If we are correct in all of our assumptions, I would have to say even,” he replied. “Much will depend on Marene, of course. I suspect her pride will get the best of her, as it always does.”

  “Meaning?” Zakiel asked.

  “Meaning that I believe the Djinn have underestimated Marene,” Nikura said. “They are using her to fetch their artifact. But, if they believe that Marene will not recognize it as an object of power, they are fools. If they believe she will meekly hand it over to them once she realizes what it is, they are idiotic fools.”

  “Underestimating Marene is never wise,” Zakiel said thoughtfully. “If she even suspects such a thing, she’ll stop at nothing to teach them the error of their ways.”

  “You think that if the Djinn make her angry, she’ll switch sides,” Karma said.

  “In a heartbeat,” Zakiel replied. “If she does, and if their artifact is as powerful as the Ti-Ank and she has it, we may have little trouble winning against both the demons, and the Djinn.”

  “Yes,” Nikura agreed. “Our only problem then will be how to deal with Marene.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Tiari listened to Kapia’s footsteps as she followed Timon into Zakiel and Karma’s tent through the new opening. They had finished eating dinner and were just having tea, so at least Kapia’s meal hadn’t been interrupted. Still, she’d been working up her nerve to ask Kapia something, and now the chance was lost.

  “Would you like more tea, Hara Tiari?” Lashi asked.

  “Yes, please, Lashi,” Tiari replied. “I’m not quite ready for sleep yet.”

  “I’ll prepare a hot bath for you,” Lashi said as she filled Tiari’s cup. “That will help to relax you.”

  “That is v
ery thoughtful of you, Lashi, thank you,” Tiari said. “I don’t want to cause you extra work, though.”

  “Do not worry about it,” Lashi said easily. “Caral and I have so little to do all day long that we enjoy being busy for these few hours of the day.”

  “I know you are both working on new clothes for me while you ride,” Tiari said, smiling.

  “Oh, that’s not work,” Lashi said, laughing. “That just keeps us from going crazy from boredom. Would that we could sew every day! Perhaps we can offer to make new clothes for the Hunters when we are finished with yours.”

  Tiari shared in Lashi’s laughter without further argument, though she knew from experience that sewing was, in fact, work. She’d always had to make her own clothes, and Una’s as well, so she knew how difficult it could be. She loved weaving, but sewing had always been a trial made worse by her inability to see. Even with sight, she couldn’t imagine how the two women managed to do it while riding atop a moving animal.

  She sipped her tea, listening as Lashi cleared the dinner dishes, her mind wandering absently. She barely noticed the sound of the tent flap moving aside until she heard Caral greet a newcomer.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting your dinner,” Tomas said, his voice sending a rush of excitement through her.

  “Not at all,” she replied, turning her face toward the sound of his voice. “I’m just relaxing. Would you like to join me?”

  “Yes, I would,” Tomas replied. “You are alone?”

  “Prince Zakiel summoned Kapia a few minutes ago,” she said. “Have you eaten dinner yet?”

  “Yes, I have, thank you,” Tomas said, taking the cushion opposite her. “Some tea would be nice though, if you have any.”

  “Of course, Sir Tomas,” Lashi said. “I will fetch you a cup.”

  “Thank you,” Tomas said. “May I ask, Tiari, what you were thinking of when I came in? You looked very far away.”

  “I was thinking that it’s strange how quickly I’ve become used to being able to see,” she said. “For most of my life I was unable to see at all unless Una let me out of the hut to draw water, gather firewood, collect grasses for weaving, and gather nuts or herbs. I never noticed the change between night and day because I was always inside the darkness of the hut. Now, I am out in the sunshine all day long, every day, yet I feel regret when the day ends and, with it, my sight. It makes me feel ungrateful and greedy. I’ve gone from nothing to abundance in such a short time that I have no good reason for regrets.”

  “I think you are too hard on yourself,” Tomas said. He smiled his thanks to Lashi as she set a cup before him and filled it with tea from the pot. “To be honest, I had forgotten that you are unable to see after the sun sets. I’ve never seen you in the evening before.”

  “I hope it doesn’t bother you,” Tiari said, suddenly worried.

  “Why would it bother me?” Tomas asked.

  “I don’t know,” Tiari said, then blushed as she shook her head. “That’s not true. I’m sorry, Tomas. I’ve just lied to you.”

  “About what?”

  “When I said I didn’t know why it would bother you. Una used to tell me that I looked like a brainless fool all the time, the way my eyes stare blankly at nothing when I can’t see. I suppose I was hoping not to look that way to you.”

  Tomas had to force himself to relax his grip on the delicate teacup as he struggled to contain his rising temper. When he set the cup down he realized that he didn’t want to pretend with Tiari. Not even in the small things.

  “I find myself fighting not to become angry when I think of your aunt, and how she treated you,” he said.

  “I understand,” she said. “It makes me angry sometimes, too.”

  “Only sometimes?” Tomas asked.

  “As bad as she was, she was all I had after my mother died. Una did not take good care of me, but she did take care of me. Without her, I would not have survived at all.”

  Tomas was struck silent by Tiari’s words. How did she do that? he wondered. After years of what amounted to nothing less than imprisonment, she saw the good of the situation over the bad. What if he had been able to do that after his parents died? What if, instead of anger and self-pity at his losses, he’d been grateful that King Rhobar had brought him to the palace and raised him alongside Zakiel and Kapia? How much different would his life have been? How much different would he have been?

  “Did I say something wrong?” Tiari asked, a small frown line between her brows.

  “Not at all,” Tomas assured her. “Quite the opposite, in fact. You always seem to make me see things in a different light. A better light.”

  “Such as?” Tiari asked.

  Tomas hesitated. “Do you really want to hear this?”

  “Yes, if you would like to tell me, I would like to hear it,” Tiari said.

  He took a moment to organize his thoughts, trying to think of the simplest way to tell something he’d never before said to anyone. He gazed into Tiari’s strange, but striking eyes, and knew that he wanted, no needed, this woman to be in his life. To share his life. Therefore, he had to let her know the worst of himself. It was only fair.

  “When I was ten years old, my parents became ill and passed from this world,” he said after a few moments. “I was their only child, and they doted on me. I was more than a little spoiled by all the attention they gave me, which made the loss doubly difficult for me. Not only had I lost both of my parents, I was no longer important to anyone.

  “My mother was King Rhobar’s sister, so he brought me to the palace to live alongside my royal cousins, Zakiel and Kapia. I was lucky that he took me in, I see that now. He might easily have sent me to a distant cousin instead, and no one would have questioned it. But I never thought of that. Instead, I was resentful that Zakiel and Kapia had, at least, one parent left to love them, whereas I had no one. I spent the remainder of my childhood, and my adulthood, until very recently, seeing the world around me through a dark glass. Only now do I see how very wrong I was, and how much I wronged my cousins.”

  “What changed your view?” Tiari asked.

  Tomas suddenly wished he had something stronger than tea in his cup. What would Tiari say when he told her about Saigar? Would she hate him? Pity him? He wanted neither, but there was no going back now. She deserved the truth, and he knew that, if he wanted her to trust him, and he did, he had to be the one to give her that truth. But, it wasn’t going to be easy.

  “I had one friend,” he said, unable to hide the pain he heard in his own voice. “His name was Saigar. We met when we were both twelve years old, and were nearly inseparable from that moment on. We grew to manhood together, became Hunters together. When I became a Knight, with my own Pack of Hunters, he was my most trusted right-hand man from the first day. Of all the people I knew, I believed Saigar to be the most trustworthy, honorable, and admirable friend any man could ever hope to have.”

  Tomas fell silent, but Tiari was patient. She picked up her cup and sipped the cooling liquid, giving him time as the silence stretched out. She heard the pain in his voice, but more than that, she saw the bleak gray border at the edges of his aura. She wanted to know the rest of the story, but she would not press him. It had to be his decision whether to continue, or not.

  “A couple of weeks ago Saigar revealed himself to be cin-sahib,” Tomas said hoarsely. “How such a thing could be, I can not understand, even now.”

  Tiari tried to imagine the pain of such a betrayal, but having never had a friend, she had no basis for comparison. Instead, she wondered what it would be like if Tomas turned out to be cin-sahib, and nearly gasped aloud at the sharp pain that stabbed her heart.

  Poor Tomas. If he felt half of what she’d just felt, she didn’t know how he lived with such pain. She placed her cup back on the saucer, using her fingers to be sure she put it down correctly.

  “You now doubt yourself,” she guessed. “You wonder what is wrong with you that the one man you trusted above all others turned out
to be the least trustworthy.”

  “Yes,” Tomas said, surprised. “How did you know?”

  “It explains your sadness,” Tiari replied. “And your pain.”

  “How can I trust myself again?” Tomas asked. “How can I believe in myself when I erred so grievously?”

  “I did not know your friend,” Tiari said, after thinking carefully. “And I know very little about cin-sahib. But Tomas, you would never have befriended an evil man. This I know. The blame lies not with you, but with Saigar. Perhaps he was very good at hiding his true nature. Or perhaps his nature was good, but something happened to him that you are unaware of that caused him to step onto the wrong path.”

  “How can I ever know what the truth is?” Tomas asked.

  “I don’t know,” Tiari said. “I believe that, if it is meant that you will learn, then you will. The real question is, how long will you blame yourself for not seeing something that was hidden from you?”

  “I should have seen it,” Tomas said. “No one was closer to Saigar than I, yet he very nearly murdered Lady Techu in her bed and I had no clue that he was capable of such a thing. If he had succeeded, I don’t know how I could have lived with the guilt. As it is, I find it difficult.”

  Tiari nodded slowly. This went much deeper than she’d thought. Simple words were not going to help Tomas. He needed more than that. “Tomas, have you spoken to Karma, or Prince Zakiel about this?”

  “No, I have not,” Tomas said, surprised by the question.

  “I think that you should,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “When you have wronged someone, it is appropriate to apologize, is it not?” she asked. “Not that I think you wronged them, but you do. Perhaps talking with them about this will help you.”

  “I don’t know, Tiari,” Tomas said. “I will think on it.”

  Tiari decided a change of subject was in order. “Do you think I look like a fool, staring at nothing?” she asked, tilting her head and smiling.

  “Of course not,” Tomas replied heatedly. Then he noticed her smile. “You are teasing me?”