Aldric set to with a will, and it was a while before they spoke. The bugs, as Soki called them, were good. He glanced at her as she licked herb butter from her fingers, then dipped them into a wash bowl, and wiped them dry on a cloth.
“So your family are back in Nagorn City,” she said. “In the city or somewhere close by?”
He nodded. When he’d finished chewing and swallowed, he added, “A village outside the city. My parents run a farm. Well, my father … he thought I’d be there to help out and eventually take over. My mother does the best she can, and my sister too, but she has big dreams.”
Soki chuckled approvingly. “It’s fine to dream, but it’s better to plan. Is she training to become a sorcerer? Where one child has the talent, it usually manifests in others.”
“She hasn’t shown any signs, and it galls her. She thinks what I do is heroic or some such nonsense. Maybe she just wants to see the world.”
“I understand. That’s what I wanted. Still, there’s a chance she’ll manifest a talent. It’s a shame we’ve lost the knowledge to push someone over the edge.”
He knew she was referring to a practice from many centuries ago that, so the histories told, had released latent sorcerous talent. What she couldn’t know was that it was a talent only found in demons, and they’d used it to coerce the weak-willed to join them. His Church possessed ancient knowledge lost to most scholars and institutions; and to the majority of people, demons existed only as vague legends.
“Yes,” was all he said, “it’s a shame.”
Soki began to tell him about her childhood and parts of her training, the bits she was allowed to reveal. In exchange, he told her about his travels and the work he performed, the parts he was allowed to. Secrets lay between them. Some they might reveal later perhaps, but many they couldn’t.
By the time dessert came, Jagonath had risen out of sight of the windows, though its glow still painted the buildings outside. Aldric’s breath caught as the waiter deposited a bowl in front of him. It held a mound of dark brown mousse sitting atop a crunchy base, with bright red berries sprinkled haphazardly around, along with tiny purple flowers.
He looked at Soki. “Is that …?”
She grinned at him. “Chocolate? Yes. Some of the traders bring it up here from the southern kingdoms. It has a long way to come, so it’s expensive. I hope you enjoy it.”
Aldric took a spoonful of his and closed his eyes. “Gods,” he murmured.
Soki chuckled pleasantly. “So, now that I’ve bribed you, can I ask some more personal questions?”
“You didn’t need to bribe me to get me to reveal more,” he said without thinking.
She raised an eyebrow. “My, my, forward, aren’t we?”
Aldric felt heat rise to his face and averted his eyes. “I didn’t mean—”
He broke off when Soki chuckled.
“I know you didn’t. But I do have more questions.”
He busied himself with another spoonful of the slightly salty mousse, crumb, and berries. He’d spent several days in her company now, but how well did he really know Soki? Enough to know she was a decent person. Although sometimes wild, if his experience with her during the dusk-tide was anything to go on.
“Ask away,” he said around another mouthful of the extraordinary dessert.
“I was trained by the Sanguine Legion,” she said, not asking a question, but revealing a secret.
Aldric searched his memory. The Sanguine Legion was one of the smaller Covenants today, but had been the premier power on the west coast hundreds of years ago. Like many of the larger Covenants, factional infighting had split them asunder as sorcerers desired to follow different directions. Within the Sanguine Legion, the fight had been particularly bloody. Some sorcerers had begun research into summoning creatures from outside this world. Not demons exactly, but their likeness to demons had caused the other Covenants to unite against them. Many of their sorcerers had perished, and now only outposts of the Covenant remained. The Sanguine Legion’s sorcery was among the most powerful though, and some would say the most elegant.
“Not so legion any more,” Soki continued. “One of their sorcerers lived close to … where I was born. So, what Covenant do you belong to? I can sense your mark, but that doesn’t tell me much. And I’ve always been interested in the workings of sorcery, how others do things.”
Of course she would ask about his Covenant, Aldric thought. She was an accomplished sorcerer herself, after all.
“They … the priests of the Five sent me to the Evokers.”
Soki let out a low whistle. “A powerful Covenant, and expensive. Not just in terms of royals either. Why did they … Oh.”
“Yes. The priests saw a use for me. A way for me to … matter in some way. Though they also believe I am cursed.”
“Fools,” Soki said, then shook her head. “I’m sorry. You were trained and looked after by the priests of the Five, so they must mean a great deal to you. When did they, or you, realize?”
“That I had the mark? It manifested during puberty. I’m one of the rare cases where the mark didn’t appear at birth. That’s why I was trained by the Five.”
“Because you also bore the mark of their god? Which I can’t see.”
“Only others with the god’s mark can see it. Unlike sorcery, where any sorcerer can see another’s mark. My training with the Evokers was quite thorough and the best the Church could afford. When I was young, I wanted to be a healer. I enjoyed learning about the human body and how to cure illnesses.” Aldric sighed and shrugged. “But now … let’s just say I don’t get much opportunity to practice healing. When my sorcerous mark became apparent, the priests decided the Five had other uses for me. So my training turned to sorcery and more martial skills.”
“I can sense your repositories, Aldric. You must be more proficient in the dusk-tide, seeing as it’s the largest of—”
“No. I’m not.”
His curt words caused an awkward silence between them. Soki stared into the distance, as if unsure whether to meet his eyes after he’d interrupted her.
Eventually she said, “I understand. You see the dusk-tide as a dark power, as many do. It’s not, but such prejudices run deep.”
Aldric wasn’t about to let a virtual stranger lecture him on dark sorcery. He knew what he’d felt during his training. The cloying, sticky dusk-tide felt wrong to him. And the malicious cants it could be used for only reinforced his opinion. But he had to admit it could be useful, and it hadn’t seemed to corrupt Soki.
“Anyway,” she continued, “what rank have you reached in your Covenant? What cants have you been taught?”
This was a subject he was more comfortable with. “Only second tier, I’m afraid. Scarcely more than an apprentice.” His unwillingness to use his dusk-tide power had limited his advancement. “I can construct a decent personal shield and only require my talisman for more complex cants. But to tell the truth, most of the sorcery I use is defensive. The offensive cants are … not something I or my Church find acceptable.”
“Because they use mostly dusk-tide power?”
“Yes.”
According to scripture, dusk-tide sorcery came from the hells and the abyss. The Evokers scoffed at this, stating that both tides were natural forces. Aldric didn’t know himself what the truth was, but the fact his god had made him a sorcerer seemed to fly in the face of his Church’s teachings. He immediately clamped down on the thought. It would do him no good, and possibly a great deal of harm, to question scripture.
“A healer and a warrior, a priest and a sorcerer. You’re a rarity, Aldric, one I mean to investigate further.” Soki’s hand reached across the table and enfolded his. “If we have time. You haven’t reported to the priests yet. They must know you’ve arrived.”
Aldric nodded. “I know. I’ll go to them soon. I … needed some time to myself.”
Soki let go of his hand and stood. “It’s late, but I’m not very tired. Do you need to spend time alone t
onight? Or would you like some company?”
“I … not tonight,” Aldric said, and coughed to cover his embarrassment. “I’m still tired from my journey.” A poor excuse, but he’d never been good at lying.
Her offer enticed him, although was too soon for his liking. And part of him still recoiled a little from what Soki represented: a sorcerer with no inhibitions, fully in control of the dusk-tide portion of her power.
Chapter Nine
Red Finches and Assassins
ALDRIC FILLED HIMSELF WITH dawn-tide power surreptitiously, taking in what he could through the open window of his room at the inn. He hadn’t used any sorcery recently, but leakage meant he still had to replenish the energy. As soon as he’d recovered, he dressed and left for the hill where the Rafic-ur-Djasir monument was located. Scholars had named it in Skanuric, which translated as Ladder to Darkness, or the Night Steps, as the locals called it. Aldric could have asked Soki to act as his guide, but he was avoiding temptation, and he’d always imagined being alone to see the prehistoric structure.
Fires were lit on the hill at the end of summer to burn off weeds attempting to gain a stranglehold. Rain and wind cleaned the area after, so all that remained was a grassy zone around the edifice at its center: a stepped pyramid made from blocks of rough-hewn obsidian, with five tiers reaching sixty yards into the sky.
Early explorers had found the site the obsidian was sourced from: a volcano a hundred miles to the north. Why the monument had been constructed, and by whom, remained a mystery hotly debated by scholars. Many of the tomes that mentioned it were old and prone to translation errors. But all novice priests became fascinated with the structure, and Aldric was no exception.
The pyramid had been originally located outside the city, but Caronath had spread as its population swelled, and now the Night Steps were inside the city walls. The dwellings close by, Aldric noted, were mostly dilapidated and vacant. It seemed to be one of the poorest districts in Caronath, which was hardly surprising given no one wanted to look out their window and gaze upon the disturbing structure. Plus, people’s pets tended to go missing and wind up mummified at the pyramid’s base, or so he’d read. And occasionally a human body would be found there too. Unmarked, but dead all the same, mouth stretched into a horrified grimace.
He climbed the rough path that ran up the side of the hill. A brightly colored finch flew past his head, close enough to almost brush his ear. He jerked his head back, startled. The bird circled and landed twenty paces in front of him, appeared to look back, then hopped along the path before taking flight toward the top of the structure. When Aldric reached the summit of the hill, he found a flock of finches congregated on the upper tiers of the pyramid, chirping noisily. Red-bodied with black wings, they seemed to burn in the bright morning light.
He admired the glassy stone of the structure; it too was bathed in sunshine. It was a greenish color on the illuminated side, and black on the shadowy reverse. Aldric thought it a miracle that no one had dismantled some of the blocks for their own building purposes, but perhaps the rumors surrounding the pyramid had scared away would-be scavengers. Locals generally left the area alone, save for a cult that had reportedly sprung up around a century ago.
As Aldric neared the pyramid, he could see offerings laid at its base: mummified animals—cats and dogs and a lamb—along with dried fruits and nuts, cheeses and jerked meats. Curiously, no rats or mice had disturbed the offerings, which he supposed gave credence to the myth there was a powerful entity interred inside. If myth it was …
In the historic tomes his Church hoarded, one tale told of a stand made here by adherents of the Tainted Cabal as they attempted fell sorcery to tear a breach in the veil between worlds that Nysrog could emerge through. That was why Aldric had wanted to see the place for himself.
When he was young and in training, he and the other novices had spent many a night enthusing about the wonders of the world and where they’d travel and what they’d see. The Night Steps were impressive, of that there was no doubt. But somehow Aldric had expected more. An energy in the atmosphere, perhaps a chill, even though the sun was warm. He admitted a little disappointment to himself, then laughed at his foolishness.
It was then he noticed a small girl standing next to the first tier, watching him. Her face was grubby, and her dress torn, but she was well fed, and her golden hair was intricately braided and tied with a pink ribbon. She noticed him noticing her, and nodded and walked toward him, picking her way around the dead animals and bowls of offerings. She stopped ten paces from Aldric and looked him up and down with her brown eyes. Her nose wrinkled, and she tilted her head to the side.
“Do you have a sweet?” she asked.
Aldric didn’t move for fear of frightening her. “No. I’m sorry.”
She stamped a bare foot in annoyance. “She said I’d get one. Maybe she has it.”
“There might be some with the offerings, but I don’t think taking one would be a good idea. Where do you live?”
“Why not? She doesn’t want them. She doesn’t even have teeth!”
“Your mother? Do you live around here?”
“No, silly. The old lady. No one lives around here except her.”
It didn’t surprise Aldric that few chose to live close to the pyramid. The old lady was probably a hedge-witch, wanting to make a name for herself by setting up business in an area the locals considered cursed.
“Would you like me to walk you home?” he said.
He didn’t think it was dangerous out here, but the girl was too young to be wandering around Caronath by herself. She should be playing with friends, or with dolls, or … What did girls her age do? He had no idea. He’d been busy working on the farm when Kittara was this girl’s age.
“She wants me to take you to her,” the girl said. “Come on.”
She skipped away, nimbly avoiding the dogs and cats staring sightlessly at them.
Aldric glanced at the Night Steps, sighed, and followed.
The girl disappeared around the side of the pyramid, and when Aldric turned the corner, he found her staring at a spot in the wall. To him, it looked no different from any other.
She looked around furtively, as if suspecting someone might be watching, then said, “Open up!”
Aldric cleared his throat. “I don’t think—”
One moment the wall was solid, the next there was a hole in it. Aldric’s dormant wards hadn’t triggered it, so it wasn’t sorcery. Then what was it?
“Hey!” he yelled as the girl ran inside. “Bloody hells!”
He checked his khopesh and plunged in after her, ducking his head to avoid the ceiling. He was in a corridor, and pale purple light radiated from violet scaleskins growing on the walls and floor. Surprisingly, the air wasn’t stale. Rather it smelled faintly of charcoal and roses.
The shadow that was the little girl grew smaller, her bare feet slapping on stone. Aldric glanced at the bright square of light behind him: outside, and presumably safety. But he couldn’t turn back. Here was a mystery, and one his Church would need to know about.
He crept along the corridor, his heart pounding, and his hands slick with sweat.
“Where’s my sweet?” he heard the girl ask.
Then he stepped into a chamber concealed in the heart of the pyramid. The floor was comprised of rectangles of obsidian pavers laid in a basket-weave pattern. An old woman sat on a stool by a fire of flickering red flames that gave off no smoke. Beside her was a large flat bowl filled with rose petals. The girl stood next to her, hand held out. The woman reached into the pocket of her frayed robe and handed the girl something. She squealed with delight and popped it into her mouth.
“Go now, nothfoljer,” said the old woman. “Your parents will become worried.” Her voice wavered slightly, but was loud in the silence of the chamber.
Aldric tensed. Nothfoljer was Skanuric for “successor” or “replacement”. What nefarious purpose did this crone have planned for the girl?
> “Leave her alone!” he shouted, drawing his crescent blade.
The girl gasped and ran away screaming.
The crone stood abruptly. “Halt!” she commanded.
Aldric felt himself gripped tight by an invisible force. Again his dormant wards were quiet, not triggered by any arcane emanation. He couldn’t move his head, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the girl was also frozen.
The old woman tutted at him and ambled over to the girl. “There, there,” she said softly, and hugged the girl, who unfroze and collapsed into her arms. The old woman laid her on the floor gently, and stroked her hair.
Turning, the crone stepped close to Aldric and met his gaze. Her eyes were two red-glowing crystals of fire. Within them stirred the primordial hotness of the sun, an intensity of torment, and whirling storms. They pierced Aldric to his very core, rifling through his innermost thoughts, searing his soul.
“Mmpf,” he managed.
Fire eyes. Obsidian. Sorcery that wasn’t. Holy Menselas, this wasn’t just a monument; it was a temple to an old god that pre-dated the founding of Caronath! If he hadn’t been held motionless, Aldric would have fled in blind terror.
“When I release you,” the woman said, stepping back, “you’ll put your sword away, and we’ll have a discussion.” She smiled, revealing a mouth devoid of teeth, as the girl had claimed. “Don’t try anything, or I’ll have to get nasty. You wouldn’t like that.”
The force holding Aldric vanished, and he staggered. He drew in shuddering breaths and tried to control his trembling limbs without success. He felt wrung out, sapped of strength.
“It’ll pass,” the woman said, “in time for you to do what I need you to do. But I forget. Too long with only myself for company, I expect. That’s been the hardest. I don’t expect you’d know, but one day you might. If you’re worthy.” She cackled without mirth. “Remember me, if that happens.”
At least she thinks I’ll still be alive one day, thought Aldric. That was slightly reassuring.
“You can call me Etia,” she continued. “Though even my nothfoljer over there doesn’t call me that. She calls me Wrinkly. Can you believe it?” A shake of her head. “I think I’m holding up quite nicely. Respect, that’s what young people are missing. That, and brains.”
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