Of the Abyss

by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

  “Might Baryte have described him as black?” she pressed. Alizarin gave a half shrug, half nod, as if it wasn’t the description he would use but he could see why someone might. “Could he have done this? Baryte said he had a plan.”

  “This is a very intricate plan for an Abyssi,” Umber suggested.

  “Is it?” Cadmia asked Alizarin.

  “For most of us,” he answered. Xaz couldn’t tell if he was intentionally being evasive, or was just too distracted to give the matter much thought. He was pacing a slow circle around their group, face lifted as if scenting the wind.

  “I think we’re looking at the wrong plane for our explanation,” Xaz admitted. “Abyssi might not be able to plot, but Numini can.”

  The Sister of the Napthol frowned, an expression of scholarly analysis rather than confusion or concern. “I was always told the Others can manipulate humans in little ways, but can’t push them into anything that violates their basic natures and values. Forgive me, Hansa, but traversing the Abyss and practicing necromancy and raising the dead is not something I would ever . . .” She trailed off, gulping a little, as she considered that she had, if ever so briefly. “And you say Ruby wouldn’t have killed herself. Can the Numini force a person to do something so opposite all reason?”

  Xaz wished she could just say yes, because honesty meant admitting how much of this blame probably fell on her shoulders. Unfortunately, whether or not her reason for coming to the Abyss made any more sense than anyone else’s, she couldn’t afford to sabotage her only allies here. That meant telling the truth.

  “As for you, Cadmia, perhaps it’s true that you allow the Numini in when you study them and pray for their guidance. They could have reached Hansa when he went to the mancers’ temple to rescue Pearl.” She was not about to tell anyone that she, too, had attempted to take the girl.

  “And Ruby?” Cadmia prompted.

  She had hoped she could avoid answering that one. “A few days ago, I was in a hurry and Ruby insisted on stopping me to talk. I used my power on her. It could have given the Numini a way in if they wanted to manipulate her.”

  She kept her eyes on Hansa as she spoke, and saw the way he gritted his teeth and his hand flexed into a fist, like he might take a swing at her. He had every right to be furious, not just for Ruby’s death but for the other guards’. She hoped he could control himself long enough for them to work this out.

  “But why?” Cadmia asked, either oblivious to the tense moment or deliberately trying to move past it. “What possible use are we to the Numini in the Abyss?”

  Umber squeezed Hansa’s shoulder, a simple move that made Hansa’s whole body relax. His attention left Xaz completely, all hints of his justifiable rage snuffing like a candle flame.

  Umber declared, “I don’t personally care what the Numini want with us. I plan to accomplish our task, asinine as it is, and then get back to the human realm as soon as—­” He broke off, then settled his gaze on Alizarin. “You brought us here, but you can’t bring us back, can you?”

  The Abyssi looked back at the spawn with amusement. After a moment he said, in tones that suggested the fact was blatantly obvious, “If Abyssi could open rifts to the human plane at will, there would be more of us there.”

  “Xaz?” Cadmia prompted. “You’re a mancer.”

  “I’m a Numenmancer,” Xaz spat, only realizing the full scope of their predicament now that Umber had pointed it out. “I have no control over the Abyss.”

  “We’re after shades first anyway,” Hansa said hollowly.

  Xaz almost snapped at him, pointing out that they had bigger concerns and he needed to catch up, and then she remembered Hansa leaning forward to take blood from Umber. It didn’t matter what had manipulated the two men into coming here. Hansa had sealed the third boon. The magic would drive him and Umber to fulfill the task for which it had been raised, regardless of their wishes.

  “Can we talk to the Numini?” Cadmia asked, looking at Xaz expectantly. “Ask what they want with us? If the Numini manipulated us once, they’re likely to do it again,” she added, when it looked like Hansa and Umber might argue. “You two are more likely to succeed if you don’t unexpectedly encounter divine interference.”

  She had a good point—­and damn her for it. Did Cadmia realize what she was asking? Yes, Cadmia had come up with the plan that sent them here, and Hansa had taken three boons of an Abyss-­spawn, but every instinct Xaz possessed still told her it was nigh suicidal to allow a Sister of the Napthol and a soldier of the 126 to see her speak to the Numini.

  “I’ll try,” she sighed, “but I can’t promise they’ll speak to me. They’ve refused recently.”

  “What do you need us to do to help?” Cadmia asked.

  Go away. “Give me space. As much as you can.”

  As the others backed away, following Alizarin’s directions, Xaz sat cross-­legged on the debris-­strewn ground and cast out her awareness.

  Before her questing power reached anywhere near the Numini, it brushed across scores of Abyssi. She could feel them, including the dense gathering that must be the court. As her awareness brushed each one, she had a momentary sense of what it was doing—­hunting, stalking, grooming, sleeping, playing, coupling. Abyssi “play” was brutal.

  Focus, Xaz, she chided herself.

  “Beings of the Numen,” she whispered. In the Numen, names and words had power. Unlike Alizarin, the Numini who had given Xaz her mancer’s power had never shared his name with her. “I, Dioxazine, your chosen child, call to you. I petition you. I implore you.” A proper invocation was always threefold. Xaz had spent much of her childhood looking for synonyms for “beg” and “grovel.” “Please grant me your attention, speak to me, advise me.”

  She sent up the call, supporting it with as much power as she could muster.

  She waited, unmoving, trying not to listen to the distant sounds of scraping, screaming, and howling. The Numini would expect her to be a vessel ready for their regard.

  An interminable time seemed to pass before the first awareness of another being trickled into her mind, along with a seeping cold that made the Abyssal wind seem balmy.

  I am here.

  She sighed in relief at the familiar voice. Her patron. “I am grateful for your attention.” How those words grated on her! If one of the Numini had sent them here, it was probably him. She spoke the courtesy by rote, though, because he would disappear again if he felt she had been rude. “May I assume you know our situation?”

  I am aware, he said. I have a task for you.

  She had to swallow back her fury like bile rising from her gut. A task. “You did send us here, then?”

  I was involved, he admitted. I regret my methods had to be so crude and convoluted. The Numini spoke about regret, but Xaz didn’t think he actually felt it. There were complications that held me from acting more directly.

  Those complications had sent her to the Abyss, and had apparently killed at least one person—­more if the guards Alizarin had killed were included. She gritted her teeth, and struggled to keep her mental voice calm. “Is it your wish that we find the guards’ shades?”

  There was a long hesitation, as if the Numini wrestled with how much she needed to know. The shades are inconsequential. If the Abyssi who slew them is willing to give them up, and you are strong enough to transport them across the veil, we will take them. They died righ­teously even though they died in violence. Your task is to return someone far more precious to us.

  “Who?”

  Again that pause, during which she had to struggle to contain her impatience. The Abyssi hold a sorcerer named Terre Verte imprisoned in their royal court. We need him retrieved.

  “Why?”

  The chill filling her deepened. That is most certainly not your concern.

  She didn’t know much about the Abyss, but she had no desire to go clo
ser to the gathering of Abyssi her power had allowed her to glimpse. “Are the Abyssi the ones who caused your ‘complications’?” she asked. “If they were able to interfere with you, how do you expect me to do better? And how will I convince the others to help me? Hansa and Umber need to fulfill the terms of the boon.”

  They will help you, he informed her, because you will tell them that Terre Verte is their only hope of fulfilling the boon. The woman’s body will be cremated within the hour. A necromancer cannot revive her, but Terre Verte can. As long as they have an option that will allow them to fulfill the boon, they must take it.

  “That’s cruel,” she accused, unthinking.

  I have given you your task, he declared, with a spike of chastising power that made her flinch. It is up to you to obey, not to judge. Now return to your Abyssi master, and tell your companions what must be done.

  The Numini’s tone was bitter and disappointed as he referred to Alizarin.

  Then he was gone. She gasped and opened her eyes, shivering convulsively.

  Stupid, demanding, arrogant bastard!

  How she wished she could say those words to his face.

  The others had withdrawn several yards, but came toward her expectantly when they saw her move.

  “Anything?” Hansa asked.

  Xaz cleared her throat of the fury that had tightened it. “What happens,” she asked, “if you cannot fulfill the boon? The Quin will cremate the body the instant sighted guards see Numen and Abyssal power in that room. Can a necromancer still resurrect her then?”

  Umber looked at her speculatively. He answered, “If it cannot be done, then once we are absolutely certain of that, the boon will be fulfilled. Speaking for myself, I have never met a necromancer, and cannot say for sure the limits of one’s power without asking.”

  I won’t tell them, Xaz decided, with a giddy blend of terror and exultation.

  If the Numini could have spoken directly to the spawn and the guard, they wouldn’t have bothered to go through Xaz. As long as Xaz didn’t tell them about Terre Verte, they wouldn’t have to go after him. They could complete their original mission—­speak to the shades and try to find a necromancer—­and then find a way back to the mortal realm.

  “The Numini told me only that they would accept the souls of the dead guards if we have the power to bring them across,” she said, hoping that even if Umber or the others realized she was lying, they would have the sense not to question her further. “If they have other plans for us, they do not deign to tell them to a mere mortal like myself.” To explain her obvious irritation and how long the conversation had been, she added, “They do not like having their Numenmancer question them.”

  She wasn’t lying to protect Hansa and Umber, but herself. She couldn’t trust Alizarin to always have the presence of mind or the motivation to protect them, and without him, Umber was the only one of them with a chance of being able to navigate the Abyss and find a way back to the mortal realm successfully. If Xaz had any choice in the matter, she would do everything in her power to avoid trekking into the bowels of the Abyssal court, but if Umber went, she would need to go with him.

  CHAPTER 25

  What is wrong with me?

  Hansa’s training had been focused on how to identify and fight mancers, the mortals who served the Abyssi and Numini, not on the capabilities of the Others themselves—­that last was knowledge reserved for the Order of the Napthol. Without Cadmia’s education, Umber’s Abyssi parentage, or Xaz’s experience as a mancer, it was hard for him to follow the theories the others bandied about regarding what the Others could or couldn’t do.

  It was even harder than it might have been, because every now and then his attention would be caught by the shape of Umber’s jaw or the warmth of his body and long moments would go by. Hansa would realize he had moved close to the spawn, or pressed his hand into the deep indigo glow that surrounded him and shimmered in response to his touch.

  Blood-­drunk, he reminded himself, remembering what Umber had called his reaction after they had rescued Pearl. He had tasted Umber’s blood again just before stepping into the Abyssi, hadn’t he?

  Each time he noticed what he had done, he moved back, though something inside him wept to pull away from that shivering glow. It had passed last time; it would pass this time.

  “There is a camp of shades outside the court, or was when I was here before,” Alizarin said, sounding impatient. “We should go there.”

  He started walking, leaving the rest of them to scramble after him.

  “Why there?” Xaz asked.

  “They have walls,” Alizarin answered. “And weapons. I should hunt before Antioch finds us, and you want to be somewhere safer before I leave you.”

  The logic seemed sound, but as Hansa tried to follow Alizarin, a feeling like ants skittering across his skin overwhelmed him. It made his muscles twitch. Before he could identify the sensation, Umber asked, “Is it possible that the shades we’re seeking have found this camp?”

  The Abyssi glanced over his shoulder just long enough to shrug, then said, “Shades normally appear near where they died.”

  Was that an answer?

  Alizarin kept walking. Cadmia trotted after him, catching up and speaking excitedly. “So the Abyss really is analogous to the mortal plane?” she asked. “And there are really levels,” she added. “How many?”

  That was a yes, Umber supplied, for Hansa’s benefit. His warmth against Hansa’s side and arm across his shoulders was as much a comfort as the words, though Hansa wasn’t sure which of them had initiated the contact. They might be nearby. We can get to safety and still pursue our goal.

  As soon as the assurance had been uttered, the jittery discomfort faded.

  When Hansa tried to gather his will to shrug off the spawn’s touch, though, he found he lacked the motivation. This had already happened too many times for him to hope the others wouldn’t notice, so what was the point?

  Meanwhile, Alizarin sidled closer to Cadmia, his feet barely seeming to disturb the black sand beneath them. Hansa would have stepped back; Cadmia almost leaned toward him, as if he were a fascinating butterfly she wanted to observe. “Five,” he said. “I have never been deeper than the third, but my sire was of the fifth.”

  “You are exceptionally excited to be in the land of the damned,” Xaz remarked, speaking Hansa’s thoughts in what sounded like a forcedly level tone.

  Cadmia tensed, her face taking on the placid, thoughtful expression Hansa was beginning to realize was a mask. “I know I should be horrified by this entire situation, but this is a chance to learn more about the field I have spent my adult life studying. Don’t you understand?”

  “I understand you’re the one of us who should have been arrested,” Xaz grumbled.

  As they moved away from the beach, skeletal structures rose from the sand to surround them. Like ancient trees fossilized in black marble, they were slick in appearance and rippled with glints of copper and rusted iron like dried blood. Luminescent pods the size of chicken eggs hung from their branches, glowing in nursery shades of pale pink, sea-­foam green, and powder blue.

  As they passed near one of the trees, Cadmia lifted a hand as if to touch a candy-­pink orb.

  Alizarin moved like smoke; faster than Hansa could blink, the Abyssi was on Cadmia’s other side, his tail around her wrist yanking her back. The Sister choked out a cry, and asked, “What—­”

  “Watch,” the Abyssi commanded. He moved Cadmia several feet further back, then reached up to bat at one of the delicate-­looking pink orbs.

  Hansa cringed from the shriek that followed, so he barely saw when the pod burst, spattering the surrounding area with silver ichor that steamed where it hit Alizarin’s fur and ate through the back of a large conch-­shaped shell resting at the base of the stone tree.

  After a moment, the mercury-­like substance drew to
gether and climbed back up the stone column, higher this time, and reformed into its harmless-­looking pod.

  “Don’t touch anything that glows,” Alizarin advised. He shook himself, fluffing his fur then smoothing it back down. Hansa saw singed areas on the Abyssi’s arms, face, and chest, and didn’t want to imagine what would have happened to human flesh. “Except me,” he added as he loped back toward Cadmia.

  “Thank you,” Cadmia said, her voice breathy. She lifted a hand, hesitated, then responded to the Abyssi’s implied invitation by smoothing a hand down the now-­patchy fur on his forearm. “Are you all right? Your poor fur.”

  Was Alizarin purring?

  “It’ll grow back,” Xaz muttered.

  “Is that from the shades’ camp?” Umber asked, lifting a hand to point to a thread of lighter gray rising into the dark sky. “It looks like smoke.”

  Alizarin nodded, tail lashing. Hansa might not have recognized the frustrated expression if it hadn’t echoed exactly how he felt every time he stepped away from Umber. If he could find a moment when the Abyssi wasn’t around, Hansa would warn Cadmia that while Alizarin was being remarkably well behaved so far, it wasn’t a good idea to draw an Abyssi’s attention physically.

  “This is as close as I should go,” Alizarin said. “If they see me they will not accept you.”

  “Are you well enough to do this?” Umber asked Hansa. He spoke slowly, as if choosing his words with care.

  Hansa pulled reluctantly away from Umber’s warmth. It seemed overly optimistic to assume they would find the other guards in the first place they looked, but if they did, it would go better if they didn’t see him snuggling against the Abyss-­spawn man.

  What am I going to say to them, anyway? he wondered. How will I explain being here with the Abyssi and mancer responsible for their deaths?

  What if I see Ruby?

  How had it not occurred to him until that moment that she, too, should be here? If shades appeared near where they died, shouldn’t she have been at the beach?