by Chad Huskins
Drea turned and ran, for she could hear no more. It was as if Saephis were possessed by a demon, and her voice was not hers. The smell of rotten eggs and dead flesh followed her out the door and down the hall. Drea rushed passed hospice healers, trying to shake the nightmarish image of Saephis and desperate to reach the outside world.
But when she turned a corner and bumped into Lord Syphen, she tried to compose herself. She bowed and said, “Forgive me, my lord.”
“You’ve seen her,” he said.
Drea nodded. “Yes.”
“It’s terrible, is it not?”
“It’s…” Drea trailed off, but then decided to be honest. “It’s the most horrific thing I’ve ever seen, my lord.”
“Indeed.” He reached out to touch her chin. He lifted it, looking her squarely in the eyes. “You’ve suffered many tragedies in your time. I imagine seeing her wasn’t easy. But now you know that all families suffer, and that we will always suffer until our dying day. Our lives are long tragedies, broken up only occasionally by small joys. But those joys do not last forever, and soon we must return to the realities of our lives.”
Drea nodded. “Of course, my lord. The gods are fickle, and we are here at their pleasure.”
“Perhaps,” he said, touching her cheek. “But while we’re here, we make the most of it. Our job is to press on, despite what the gods throw in our way. And that’s what we’ll do today.”
A short silence passed between them.
Finally, Lord Syphen said, “Drea, I know that you were committed to your old family, but I hope to find that you are committed to your new one, as well.”
“I am, my lord.”
“Good. Then you will put this dreadful business behind you for a time, and join me and the rest of our family today at the Den of Beasts.”
Drea blinked. “The…?”
“Have you forgotten what today is? I and the rest of the Triumverate are to be recognized officially today during the games.”
Drea had almost forgotten, what with all that had been going on. “Of course. Yes. My lord…you’re still going through with it?”
“I am. Despite the fact that Markus Dustrang is dead, we will soldier forth. As you and I just agreed, we have to keep going no matter what the gods throw at us. I will nominate another member of the Triumverate tomorrow, but today our office must be officially recognized by all gods, and all of Drith. Politics is nothing without the consecration of religion, don’t you agree?”
Drea nodded. “Yes.”
He smiled briefly. “There’s the philosopher. So, our family will be there at the games—our whole family, including you, Drea—and we will show all of Drith that we do not falter. We never shall perish.” The words of House Syphen, spoken with the truest passion Drea had ever heard.
“Of course, Lord Syphen. And I’m honored that you think I’m worthy enough to be there.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Drea,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulder and guiding her down the hall. “You’ve proven stronger and more resilient than most in your position. So much tragedy you’ve endured. But come, let’s not talk anymore of that. I’ve arranged for a retinue of Rain Guards to guide you home. At the Hour of the Fish, I will send for you.”
They walked out the door and paused at the top of the hospice’s steps. Syphen squeezed her shoulder affectionately. “Today will be a day long remembered, Drea. It’s the day that House Syphen showed the world it does not kowtow to creatures like this Lady Blackveil, and does not run from the gods’ challenges.”
“Of course, my lord. My lord? May I ask…that is, what was it that made Lady Blackveil come after your family all those years ago? Why does she haunt us now?”
“Those stories are not appropriate for a young Lady of Drith.” Lord Syphen gave her another look, smiling briefly, then waved for the Rain Guards waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. Fengin was there, too, waiting faithfully with Drea’s horse.
Then, from behind them, Drea thought she heard another loud scream. It sounded like Saephis, her screams echoing down through the halls of the hospice. Neither Drea nor Lord Syphen commented on it.
The ride back across the city was a quiet one. Drea had much to think about. Lord Syphen. The Host. Lady Blackveil. The terrifying curse laid on Saephis’s flesh, and her even more terrifying words. And that smell. The noxious fumes that had come rolling off of Saephis’s body would not leave her nostrils.
And Drea thought about how much she had been shielded from the horrors of the world. Not just the politics and the backstabbing, but the darkness that hid within the shadows of Drith.
And the sorcery.
Drea thought about the vehl she’d seen, and the aphotic abyssal, Lady Blackveil’s ability to keep them invisible to human eyes, the immortality of Phaedos Syphen, and, of course, the curse laid on Saephis.
And yet none of it had derailed the plan that had been developing in Drea’s mind for some time now. If anything, she was more committed to it than ever. She only hoped that Kulisa had found Daedron and delivered her message, for without Daedron, her plan might never be implemented.
Still, none of her plans might ever come to fruition if she were found out, or if her true encounter with Lady Blackveil was ever discovered.
What if Saephis’s words alert Lord Syphen? What if he doesn’t truly trust me? What if the invitation to join him at the Den of Beasts is a trap?
Drea’s hands fretted nervously, and she rubbed the hempen rope of the bracelet on her hand, and ran her fingers over the stygian bluestones. Naturally, her mind traveled to Thryis, and she wondered how she was doing in the cottage. Was she scared out of her mind? Probably. Was she furious at having been left for so long with no explanation of where Drea was? Most definitely.
Will she forgive me if my plan is carried through? Drea wondered. Will she forgive me for what I feel compelled to do?
She had no answer for that.
But for all the fear she’d experienced, Drea’s heart and mind had been awakened to new kinds of threats, and the focus she now felt was frighteningly close to what she’d felt all those years ago in that alley with the boy who pushed her. When her hand went instinctively to the knife…
Drea was surprised at how comfortable the feeling was becoming. She was starting to scare herself.
But when Drea and her entourage of Rain Guards passed down a street with a smattering of graffiti, amid the lewd shapes and random scrawlings, her mind was pulled out of its reverie. For she saw some unknown artist had crudely carved out the the words,
Kalder does not bend
And Drea’s thoughts cooled. Her fears of her own anger and its consequences were assuaged. It was acceptance. Like the knowledge of the coming of a fellstorm.
Why fight it?
When she returned home, she asked Fengin to tell the house slaves to leave her alone for the evening. Two Rain Guards followed her to her cottage, but they remained outside to guard her door, perhaps fearing Lady Blackveil’s return.
Once inside, Drea made sure all the windows were shut and the door was locked. She knelt by the bed and peeked under it. She whispered, “Thryis?”
A bundle of sheets had been wrapped around her, but Thryis now flung those to the side and came crawling out in furious haste. “Smack—your—bottom! Where have you been?” Thryis stood up, revealing that she had somehow managed to give herself a peg leg. It looked like the leg of a wooden stool, and Drea saw that the stool in front of her drawing desk had been taken apart. A few sashes and leather straps had been taken from Drea’s wardrobe to fasten the makeshift leg to Thryis’s knee.
“Thryis, did you put that leg together all by yourself?”
“Never mind that!” Thryis said, fuming and limping over to her. “Answer me. Where have you been? Do you know I’ve been lying here worried sick about—”
Drea hugged her fiercely, as though she would never let go. When finally she released Thryis, she looked at her and said, “My de
arest, I’m so grateful to see you. It’s been a most arduous day.”
“Drea luv, what happened?”
“Thryis, I saw…I saw…well, I don’t know how to explain it. But Saephis…she has suffered a gruesome malady. It seems Lady Blackveil has cursed her with something I’ve not even imagined in my nightmares.”
Thryis touched Drea’s cheek. “Tell me everything.”
The two of them sat for nearly two hours while Drea recounted everything. She began with her discovery the night before that Phaedos Syphen was likely not who he claimed to be. And as she laid out the evidence, Drea saw Thryis’s eyes widen with shock. At first she seemed not to believe it.
“Do you think I’m mad for thinking it?” Drea asked.
“I’d never think you mad, blessed goddess. But…it’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?”
“There’s more.”
“More? Dear me, I’m not sure my heart can take it.”
Drea began by telling of her encounter with Lord Syphen, and of her carefully made plan to deceive him. She outlined how she had come to the conclusion that this was the best way to put Lord Syphen off his guard, or at least make him uncertain about the inane babble coming from Saephis’s lips.
Thryis’s shock subsided, and she suddenly appeared impressed. “Why, Drea Kalder, I’ve never known you to possess such guile. Clever? Yes. But beguiling? Never.”
“I didn’t like having to give over such a powerful weapon to him, for I know we could use the Old Man if ever we face the vehl again,” Drea said. “But giving him the Old Man seemed like the quickest way to remove suspicion from myself.”
“I thought when you sent that slave girl to take the Old Man from me, that you meant to use it for defense. I became frightened for you,” Thryis said, squeezing Drea’s hand. “But it appears you found another use for a pistol besides a weapon.”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t first consider shooting him outright, knowing that he and his friends in the Hidden Door had my parents murdered. But if I had, I would surely have been found guilty of murder, as there were witnesses all around. Besides, the aphotic abyssal bullets seem only designed to pull in vehl, and I couldn’t be sure that opening those dark portals would even work on Lord Syphen.”
“Well, it appears your ploy worked,” Thryis said. “You’re here now, alive and unharmed.”
“I’m not sure he believed all of my story—he’s the author of The Way, after all, and will understand the art of lying like no one else—but he did invite me to the Den of Beasts later today to watch the Triumverate finally be recognized by the gods and augurs.”
“But Markus Dustrang was a Triumvir, and there can be no Triumverate without three men,” Thryis pointed out.
“Lord Syphen says they mean to nominate someone else to the position.”
“Someone else from the Hidden Door, no doubt.”
Drea nodded. “That’s not my concern right now. What I need to worry about is what Daedron and Lady Blackveil have planned for the ceremonies at the Den of Beasts, and how we might help them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Daedron said he would make a move against his uncle then, and Lady Blackveil agreed to launch her attack then, too. That means that, later today, at the Den of Beasts…we will attempt to kill Lord Syphen.”
“Oh, Drea.”
“I have a thought. It’s not much, but it may provide enough of a distraction. At least, enough so that if Daedron and Blackveil’s plan fails, it gives us an opportunity to escape.”
“What sort of a distraction?”
“One that only you can provide,” Drea said.
“Me?”
“That day you visited me and told me that Lady Blackveil wanted to meet, you also said that your work on the Great Generator is dangerous because, if one thing goes wrong with the pressurization in the pipes, half the Generator would explode.”
Thryis’s eyes went wide. “Oh, Drea…Drea, luv…”
“Can you do it? At the Hour of the Wolf?”
“Maybe…but why? It would wreak havoc over much of the city. It would shut off power to countless…” She trailed off, her eyes showing she understood. “Oh…oh, I see. At least, I think I see. Still, why risk so much for such a paltry distraction?”
Drea thought, Because the Host has promised me a boon—the Hand in the Darkness, he called it—an Item of Power that only works in the dark. If he plays his part and gets it to me in time, then I have to do my part and create the opening I need to use it.
Drea never told any of this to her friend and beloved, it might only worry her, especially since Thryis had heard Blackveil’s warning about the Host.
But if he’s real, and if he delivers on his promise, then perhaps I can play a part, as well.
“Never mind that, Thryis,” she said. “Will you do it?”
“Drea luv, so many people work on the Great Generator. I know many of them by name. I can’t be sure all of them will get clear in time—”
“Can you invent a reason for them to get out of there? Some forewarning so that they evacuate beforehand?”
“Possibly, but even then, luv, there could still be casualties. Drea…are you prepared to have those lives on your hands?”
For a moment, a passage from The Way crossed her mind. The Twelfth Precept: Be prepared for the loss of innocent lives. It is to be expected. You must ask yourself, is the outcome of your goal more desirable than the outcome of doing nothing?
Drea thought about that. By doing nothing, by allowing a fell-sorcerer like Lord Syphen and his House to prosper for another eight hundred years, by letting this Temple of the Hidden Door to carry on, then all of Drith was in peril. If they will conspire to kill my family just to achieve power, what will they do to keep that power?
But was Drea really, truly prepared to put innocent lives at stake, all on the chance that it would help her to take him down?
The answer came simpler than she thought. “Thryis, you have to do this for me.” As soon as she said those words, she knew there was no turning back. “As soon as I leave, I need you need to get out of here unseen, and get to the Great Generator as quickly as possible. Much of the house staff and guards will be with us at the Den of Beasts, I imagine. But, if you still can’t do it, then—”
“Of course I can do it! I’m Thryis Ardenk, who else?”
“But will you do it?”
Thryis was about to answer, when there came a knock at the door. “My Lady of Drith?” said one of the Rain Guards. “It’s time to go.”
Drea looked at the timekeeper on her wrist. Gods below. The Hour of the Fish had come sooner than she expected. Drea held Thryis’s hands to her breast, and said, “Listen, my love, I need you to help me. I need you to go to the Great Generator and do as I’ve asked—”
“No, I’m coming with you—”
“You can’t!”
“Wherever Drea Kalder goes, Thryis Ardenk follows! Every fool knows—”
“I don’t have time to argue with you, Thryis.”
“Smack your bottom, I’m not going to leave you alone at the Den of Beasts! Not with Lord Syph—”
“No, smack your bottom!” Drea hissed. Thryis was silenced, and looked rather indignant. “Listen to me, you truculent little girl! Just once, listen! You can’t go everywhere I go. You just can’t. Not anymore. The days when we could do as we pleased are gone. Do you understand? Gone! You and I live in a different world now. An adult world. And sometimes Drea Kalder will go where Thryis Ardenk can’t follow!”
Thryis blinked back tears.
“I need you to go to the Great Generator, and I need you to do what I’ve asked. At the Hour of the Wolf, Thryis. Precisely then. Can you do it?”
Another knock, this one louder. “My Lady of Drith?” called one of the Rain Guards.
“Can you do it?” Drea repeated.
Thryis hesitated, but then nodded.
Drea looked at Thryis, and they shared a moment of quiet uncerta
inty. Then she cupped Thryis’s face in her hands and kissed her deeply. Drea wanted the moment to freeze. It was a moment that distilled everything that had come before it—their meeting at the Forum, how they had first disliked each other, then how they had become friends, their parents’ deaths, their first kiss, their second kiss…
Another forceful knock removed Drea from the moment. She turned and went to the door.
“Drea?” Thryis said.
She paused with her hand on the door latch and looked back at Thryis.
Thryis walked towards her, grabbed her by the face, and kissed her again, fiercely this time. And when she came away, she said, “I love you. I always have. I will follow you anywhere, and do anything you say. And should anyone hurt you, I will bite their throats out with my teeth. And should you be alone in a world of enemies, your Thryis will never abandon you.”
Drea kissed her. “No matter what happens,” she said. “Remember that I love you. Remember that—”
Another knock. “My Lady of Drith?” the Rain Guard called.
Drea pushed Thryis away so that she wouldn’t be seen when she opened the door. She stepped outside quickly and looked at the two Rain Guards. “Apologies, gentlemen,” she said. “I’ve had a most stressful evening, and I had…women’s hygiene issues to attend to.”
Fourth Precept: Always deceive. If you are strong, make your opponents think you are weak.
Neither man looked comfortable with the topic of women’s hygiene, and men of course always saw such female ordeals as weaknesses. She knew they would inquire no further as she led them away from the cottage.
Drea had to fight hard not to look back, for she knew that Thryis would be staring out at her through the window. She desperately wanted to look on Thryis’s face one last time, for she believed this might be her last day on earth.
Drea was now part of a conspiracy that she only partially understood, and she had no idea what the future held. And her uncertainties grew when she entered the house and found Vaedris and Daedoris were waiting on her in the foyer. They stood there, solemn-faced but proud, their postures perfectly erect and each one dressed to their fullest.
