“I am Adele,” the girl said. “And this is Adrien. We are twins. Our only differences are to make us a more perfect Sun and Moon. I am blond and he is dark,” she said for the benefit of the blind Father Dahon. “We are from Brittany. There are not many survivors in our village, but we who are left are strong and firm in faith.” They stepped back together, blending back into the line and Father Dahon smiled.
“I-I’m Leila,” the next girl said, when beckoned. She had a yellow-blond fluff of hair, like the head of a dandelion, but her eyes were brown.
“Is that an American accent?” Rita murmured.
“I’m not sure.” Toby nudged her to keep listening.
The boy overheard. “I’m Noah. Our family live in Agadir now.” He adjusted a pair of battered glasses, then, after a hesitation, “But our parents were born in Maine, America. They evacuated after the eruption of Yellowstone. We have more reason than anyone to want to avert a second cataclysm; we want to do the Sun’s work. I am the Moon and my sister is the Sun.”
Ayla whistled under her breath. “Real Americans! Thought they were extinct. Didn’t the Russians bomb the states that weren’t wiped out by the volcano?”
“They said Maine.” Toby thought of Dee’s Atlas. “It was up by Canada, maybe some got out.” He turned to the final couple and stared. The girl was opening and closing her hands as she awaited her turn, displaying those long nails he had noticed earlier. The boy was nervous, fidgeting in his place.
The girl spoke first. “I am Bianca and I will be your Moon. My friend, Cezar, will be your Sun.” She looked at her nails, turning them one way and then the other. “We are from Budapest. Our city selected us to come to the festival. We have been preparing in many ways.” She held up her hands. “This is to prove that I have not worked. I have been only purifying and praising the Sun.”
“They look like claws.” Toby shuddered.
“They’d break the moment she touched something.” Rita showed him her own short nails. “Don’t worry about those.”
Father Dahon had reached the end of the row. Now he turned to face the crowd of islanders. “These are exceptional candidates. As they compete to determine who will be the Sun and Moon, their trials will bring light to our island.”
“Trials?” Toby met Ayla’s eye and she spread her hands, pleading ignorance.
“With candidates as strong as these, this year will be a most successful festival. Pilgrims are already making their way here from all over the world, bringing relics and other trade. Make sure to take advantage of this – greet and house them. Make sure all relics are turned over to the sanctuary and remember the percentage you owe the church from each transaction. Attendants will be on hand to help you calculate.”
Ayla snorted under her breath and Toby wondered exactly how the brothers and sisters enforced cooperation.
“You will not see these candidates again until the festival, but you have heard their names, now remember your favourites in your prayers.”
The people cheered and Toby groaned. Rita and D’von were being let through.
Ayla put her mouth to his ear. “I thought someone would notice Rita.”
“Me, too.” He closed his eyes.
“We can’t let D’von try to steal from the sanctuary. He’ll be caught. He’s too honest.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to say something. If I don’t we’ll lose the inverters and … we don’t know what they’ll do to him if they…”
“All right.” Toby looked at his friend. D’von had a big smile on his face as he waved to the crowd. Slowly, miserably, he raised one hand and pointed to Rita. “Exactly how old are you?” he asked.
NINE
The look on D’von’s face followed him up the steps of the old Catholic cathedral. Toby barely looked up as his pockets were emptied, although he felt relieved that he had left his tool belt on the Phoenix. He heard Ayla grunt crossly when her own clothes were rifled through. He had done the right thing, but he felt no better than Ayla: a traitor to his friends.
Rita had barely restrained herself from outing Toby in return, but she knew that he and Ayla were the Phoenix’s only chance to reach the inverters and she left in furious silence.
Miserable, Toby hardly looked at the stunning carvings that arched above him to cast twisted shadows on the sun-bleached steps.
“You should have let me do it,” Ayla hissed.
“I can do my own dirty work.” But Toby’s shoulders remained stooped until he entered the cathedral and raised his head.
Then everything else was forgotten.
Although Father Dahon and Mother Hesper were already walking towards the nave, the group of teenagers had stalled.
“Praise Soleil … it’s incredible.” Adele grabbed Adrien’s hand, all arrogance stunned out of her.
“It’s all right, ah suppose,” Moira said, absently, but her gaze was fixed on the domed ceiling that rose above them, where a tiny gecko climbed along a carved windowsill.
“Wait a minute.” Ayla frowned. “There wasn’t a dome on the outside, just that big bronze circle.”
Mother Hesper turned. “Very observant. No, there is no dome – it is trickery of the eye. We allowed the design to remain, because it is –” the angles of her face softened momentarily – “quite beautiful.”
She turned again, expecting the teens to follow her, but the group remained crowding the aisles. Beams of light speared downwards from cross-shaped windows set high in the walls and dust motes played in the glow. Further back a golden mosaic showed two figures. Toby shuddered when he realized that one held a severed head.
There were gaps where curtains had been torn from little chapels to each side of him, and in each there hung an ornate chandelier, dust clinging to each glittering crystal.
Everything was gold: gold edging on every pillar, golden flowers across the vaulted ceiling, a filigreed suit of arms below the fake dome.
The floor was made of tombstone slabs from multicoloured marble. Emblazoned armorial shields, prancing animals and twisting garlands commemorated the long-distant dead. With each hesitant step, Toby thought of the souls beneath him, whose house of worship had been so altered.
“This way,” Mother Hesper said.
As the candidates stood gaping at the opulence surrounding them, a bell rang, then another and another, until five had been struck.
“That was a major chord in G natural,” Summer whispered with her eyes closed. “Glorious.”
“Yes.” Arthur’s deep voice resonated with the bass of the bell and Toby realized that, despite the wonders around them, Arthur had barely taken his eyes from Summer. Arthur cleared his throat and looked at Toby. “Summer’s a musician. She plays the flute. We’re going to get it sent on, just as soon as we’re crowned.”
“You mean when we’re crowned, doncha?” Moira sneered. “If there’re competitions to be done, you don’t stand a chance against me an’ Brody.”
“Ha.” Adele straightened. “Adrien and I will be crowned.”
“Not if we can help it,” Ayla hissed.
Before Toby could suggest that she focus on making allies rather than enemies, the hair on his neck stood on end. He turned.
From doors that had been hidden in the depths of the chapel, two lines of men and woman appeared. All wore floor length robes, some grey and some brown, and their eyes, milky with swimming cataracts, stared at nothing. Walking as though they could see every step, their bodies swung in time to invisible music and their hands dangled at their sides, fingers twitching.
Slowly they lined up along the aisles. There were no pews – they had long been burned – but cushions permitted them to kneel in surreally straight lines.
Toby rubbed his hands together, suddenly chilled. At the end of the right-hand line stood a familiar figure. Morris was there, thin as an oar, wearing a black robe, his head hanging, blind as the day he’d left the Phoenix.
“Praise the Sun.”
“Hail Sol
eil.”
The teens who now clustered around Toby were whispering to themselves, using the familiar mantras for comfort. Automatically Toby reached for Polly, but Ayla caught his fingers. “They’re creepy,” she whispered in his ear. “Not dangerous.”
“I know.” Toby looked around again. The robed sunblind appeared to be waiting for something.
“Midday prayers,” Mother Hesper said, “are a little late today due to the opening of the festival. As you can see our holiest sunblind brothers and sisters pray in the cathedral proper. Those in black went blind before they knew of us, through devotion to the new Sun. Those wearing grey robes blinded themselves as an act of worship since joining the Order. They are to be especially revered – some of them are previous Suns and Moons.”
Toby gaped. This was the future that awaited the winner. Mother Hesper continued.
“Whenever you are not taking part in a challenge, you will pray at dawn, dusk and midday precisely. The bells will be your call to midday prayer. Dawn and dusk you will be expected to recognize yourself.”
“Where do we pray?” Lenka called.
The mother nodded. “For today, you will have the privilege of joining your sunblind brothers and sisters in prayers led by Father Dahon. On all other days you will pray in the rear courtyard, under the light of the Sun and the eyes of the attendants. The most devout of our brothers and sisters are also permitted to pray within the Reliquary, but at this time, you are not. Please kneel before the altar.”
Toby found himself leading the suddenly nervous teens between the lines of blind brothers and sisters. He stopped by a row of empty cushions, lit by the sun that spilled through the open cathedral door. Lenka and Matus were the first to push past and drop to their knees.
Mother Hesper moved to the side of the altar and knelt, leaving Father Dahon standing before them, haloed in a shaft of sunlight.
“Praise the Sun.” He raised his arms.
“Praise the Sun!” The reply echoed through the cathedral, multiplying the devotion until it filled the hall. Each made a sun sign against his or her chest. Toby and Ayla quickly copied them.
“On this day, as on every day, we praise the Sun, bringer of life. We give thanks for the gifts of warmth and light. We think of the years of darkness and give thanks for the lessons we have learned.” Father Dahon bowed his head. “Pray with me.”
Toby realized that every teen in the line was speaking along with the priest. Not only that but he could hear the words echoing from the square outside as the Gozitans, too, joined in. The sound was a tide rising and falling with the cadence of words. His heart raced: surely he and Ayla would be caught out by their quiet.
But then he realized that what Father Dahon was saying was an approximation of the Apostles Creed. He had heard the Spaniards on board the Phoenix repeating it since he was small. By the second line he was able to join in. Beside him he heard Ayla doing the same, keeping her chin low and quietly fudging a few words.
“We believe in one Sun, The Father, the Almighty, Heater of heaven and earth, Revealer of all that is seen and unseen.
We believe in one true Sun, The only Sun of earth, Eternally begotten of the stars.
Heat from heat, light from light, True Sun from true Sun, Begotten, not made, One in being with the universe.
Through Him all things are made, For humanity and our salvation, He moves through the heavens.
We believe in the Sun, The Lord, the giver of Life, Who proceeds from the East to the West.
With the Moon in the heavens, He is worshipped and glorified.
He has spoken through his absence.
We believe in one holy Order, We acknowledge one way to the forgiveness of our sins, We look for the Sunblind to lead us to new life in the world to come.
Amen.”
Toby echoed the final word and relaxed his hand.
Rustling behind him caught his attention and he realized that the blind brothers and sisters were rising and filing out once more.
Ayla pulled at his sleeve. “Look at the stone,” she whispered and Toby followed her eyes. The altar was a giant slab of granite, carved with deep-cut straight lines, dark in their depths.
“They look like…”
“Drainage,” Ayla murmured. “Why would the altar need drainage?”
Toby glanced around them; the other teens remained kneeling, heads bowed.
Father Dahon retreated from the altar and Mother Hesper took his place.
“Stand,” she said. The teens rose unsteadily to their feet.
Behind them the vast cathedral door began to swing closed on hinges that squealed as they moved.
“This is your final chance to leave.” Mother Hesper pointed to the narrowing portal. “Once the door is shut you will be locked inside the sanctuary. You will be able to go into the rear courtyard and take part in trials, but you will not see the front square until the very end. You will be committed to us.” She cast a glance at the altar so brief that Toby barely caught it. “Those of you who do not receive the honour of being crowned at the festival will nevertheless remain in the sanctuary as attendants to the Mysteries. This is its own reward.”
The door was almost closed now; the gap in it only as wide as the passageways of the Phoenix.
Toby looked at the teens around him. Zahir was watching the sunlight disappear as though he might never see it again; his companion, Uzuri, made the sign of the Sun, while Moira and Brody shuddered as their view of the square and the Gozitan people vanished. Only Lenka and Matus seemed genuinely unmoved, facing the altar.
Now the gap was as thin as the vents Toby had once crawled through on the ship. “As if they could stop us leaving if we wanted to,” Ayla snorted and, like Lenka, she turned deliberately away from her last view of the sunlit courtyard.
Although Toby wanted to mirror her, he was compelled to watch as the gap narrowed to a slim line.
There was a hollow slam as the doors came together and then a loud clicking.
“Automatic locks,” said Cezar, the boy from Budapest. “Magnetic?” He frowned, and looked up at his companion as she poked him in the ribs with one of her long nails. “Sorry, Bianca.”
Mother Hesper offered a more genuine, if thinner, smile. “As none of you have chosen to leave, let me tell you about your new home.” She pointed to the door the blind priests had used. “The sunblind have quarters through there. At present we have eighty-nine sunblind devotees who worship with us. They have dormitories, prayer rooms, bathing rooms and a dining hall – these all remain private. Only they and their silent attendants are permitted inside. They are the holiest of the holy.”
Toby thought of Morris, the Englishman who had been one of his father’s original crew. His laugh had been loud and he knew more dirty jokes than Peel and Crocker. Now he was the holiest of the holy?
“The silent attendants are those who are privy to the deepest secrets of the sanctuary. They are the most trusted.” Mother Hesper smiled at this. “Only candidates who enter the cathedral as Sun and Moon candidates, but fail the trials, may become silent attendants. If you meet a silent attendant, please show the utmost respect, but remember they will not speak to you, no matter what you say.” She pointed to a recess beside them, where two armed attendants glowered in the shadows. “Behind that wall is the Reliquary, which used to be the crypt of the worshippers of the crucified god.” She smirked. “During the first trial you will be taken on a tour, at which time you will be permitted to worship before the relics and will learn which items are important to us in the unlikely event you should encounter them during the pilgrimage.” She gestured to the opposite side, where a small archway led to a plain staircase that curved downwards. “Through there are the attendants’ quarters. At the moment we have two hundred brothers and sisters in total. Anyone can ask to join our Order as an attendant, but only the most devout are accepted. Others join the community of worshippers on the island, or return home. The attendants are split into a hierarchy. The least impor
tant do the manual work in the sanctuary: cooking, cleaning, laundry, gardening and so on. These you know as brothers and sisters. Then we have those who are guards, enforcers of the faith.” She indicated the attendants standing outside the Reliquary. “Among their duties is to keep the islanders in line. If it is necessary for you to speak to a warrior, you will refer to him as Uncle.”
“What of the female guards?” Ayla stood defiantly straight, as Toby glared at her.
Mother Hesper smiled. “There are none. Among the qualifications for guardianship are a strength and power to which women are unsuited.”
Toby grabbed Ayla’s arm, but she smiled coldly. “Of course.”
“Finally there are those who have completed their attendancy and have become mothers and fathers. Like myself. Most mothers and fathers work as missionaries or ministers to the faithful. At the moment there are only five of us on the island: myself, Father Dahon and three others, who you are unlikely to meet.”
“And through there?” There were two more doorways leading to the back of the cathedral. Adele and Adrien pointed together to the left one.
“This goes to the quarters of the mothers and fathers.”
“And the other?” Adele demanded.
Mother Hesper smiled. “That leads to your own quarters, the bathing area, the dining room and rear courtyard. When you are not being tested for the festival, you may move about this area quite freely and use the facilities as you see fit. As long as you remember your prayer times and, of course, that the Sun is always watching.” She made another sun sign and bowed her head. “I will show you this area, and then your meal will be served.”
She turned and Toby caught Ayla’s wrist to draw her attention. “It’s enormous.”
“I know,” she hissed. “But we know where they’ll be.” She tilted her head at the crypt where the two uncles had subtly shifted their stance, closing their hands around their long clubs and emphasizing the muscles in their necks.
Toby’s gaze skittered after Mother Hesper, who was holding open the door, her eyes glittering in the shadows.
“Come,” she said.
Phoenix Burning Page 8
