Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Novels from Top Fantasy and Science Fiction Authors

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Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Novels from Top Fantasy and Science Fiction Authors Page 226

by Gwynn White

‘What are?’

  ‘Your eyes. Your hair has turned back to brown also.’

  ‘What?’ Quxa’s heart lurched into a sprint. She rubbed her eyes again and again, suddenly, the white turned black. Nothing. Fear stabbed at her gut. ‘I’m not healing, and I can’t see.’

  ‘Stay here.’

  ‘No wait—’ Quxa reached out into the nothing before her, but Pinda’s footsteps were already softer.

  Quxa found herself alone. Why had her eyes changed colour? Her hair had been a typical brown before her woman’s first bleeding, then it lightened to gold. She turned her thoughts back to Gord, but were useless in calming her.

  Moments later, Quxa heard people approaching.

  ‘Quxa. Are you well?’ asked Superior Cilan. ‘What happened?’

  The truth hurt more than the rays of the sun. Quxa shook her head. ‘I cannot see.’

  ‘Tell me how it happened.’

  Her breathing quickened, barely able to imagine herself saying the words. ‘I stared at the sun, but I thought this only hurt ordinaries. I’m a healer. I’m supposed to heal.’

  Quxa felt herself begin to sob.

  ‘Come with us,’ said Pinda, taking Quxa’s right arm. Superior Cilan, who always smelled of cinnamon, supported Quxa on the other side. Quxa stumbled, kicking loose stones and nearly tripped as they entered Lightend Sanctuary. The reassuring scent of lavender incense that often burned in the holy halls filled her nose.

  In the high priestess’s rooms, after climbing seventy or so stairs, Quxa grew sullen. She’d never been to the high priestess’s rooms before and longed to see her exquisite surroundings. The girls whispered of golden statues, perfectly illustrated paintings and jars full of rare herbs and spices.

  ‘What has happened?’ asked High Priestess Ninen, her tone laden with concern.

  Quxa had never spoken to the high priestess before so she kept silent.

  ‘Quxa’s eyes have changed,’ Superior Cilan stated.

  ‘How?’

  ‘Your Pureness, she stared at the sun,’ said Pinda with a shaky voice.

  A hand took Quxa’s, roughly edged rings and stones felt cool on her palm. ‘Dear child,’ said the high priestess, ‘tell me what happened.’

  The priestess’s warm tone caused Quxa to burst into tears. ‘Since I was but twelve I’ve longed for a child, Pureness. Meldrassa stared at the sun to get her healing powers, so I thought if I stared at it, I could lose mine and be normal and have a family.’

  The high priestess kept quiet for some time. ‘You’ve not been forced into the role of apprentice Superior, why did you choose this road of servitude to the sun god?’

  ‘Pinda is my finest friend. I didn’t know what I wanted at fifteen, so I followed her path. But I’m not happy.’

  ‘I see. Let us hope your sight will return, but I cannot lie and say I’m not very hopeful of you regaining your golden eyes or hair, since for their loss, I believe you are no longer a healer.’

  ‘High Priestess, i-if Quxa has indeed lost her healing powers…’ Superior Cilan lowered her voice. ‘Does that mean that it is possible for the rest of us to, as well?’

  Quxa’s heart pounded at the suggestion.

  ‘Yes,’ said the high priestess. ‘But we are not to speak of this to anyone. I believe the penalty of betraying the sun god, and being so utterly foolish, is blindness.’

  Pinda went to Quxa’s side and put her arm around her friend. ‘I won’t leave you.’

  Pinda’s words were sweet, but Quxa suspected the high priestess would supress the knowledge about losing her gifts.

  ‘And if my eyes don’t heal?’ Quxa asked.

  ‘Unfortunately, I cannot let you stay at Lightend Sanctuary.’

  ‘Where will you send me, High Priestess?’ Quxa asked.

  ‘Far away.’

  4

  Quxa

  Quxa’s sight did not return, and with a blade’s kiss, she learned she did not heal swiftly. A few weeks later, she was sent to Mountain Sanctuary on the opposite side of Senya to serve as an assistant to Priestess Atanta. Three months passed and her belly grew; soon after, a midwife confirmed that Quxa carried three seeds in her womb.

  She was to have Gord’s triplets.

  Quxa and her babes survived childbirth. She named the first, a healer girl, Mel, after Meldrassa. The second, a boy with the black eyes, she named Shovock. Oddly, a day later the blackness of Shovock’s eyes turned into an ordinary brown, or so the midwife said. The last child born, another healer girl, she named Endra.

  Quxa had never been happier, and believed her blindness a small price to pay for three beautiful children.

  As a child, Shovock acted the loving, happy little boy: careless and carefree. But as he approached twelve years of age, Mel teased him about the black roots of his hair and his darkening eyes. Endra called him a raven until he screamed at her. Her daughters remarked on his odd movements, as if he were a rusting old hinge. A dear friend said the lightness in his step had turned to a trudge, and he hunched like a weeping woman.

  Shovock grew cold in his demeanour, and she could feel him scowling at her, drawing her in, making her terribly uneasy. By age thirteen, Quxa sensed a wrongness about Shovock, and she tore herself apart by ruminating on all the ways she failed to love him.

  ‘Mother,’ Shovock said to her one day. ‘I can’t stop thinking of girls.’

  Quxa took a sort of relief in the ordinariness of her son’s desire for womankind.

  ‘Most men desire girls and women, my son. And as you develop into a man, you will understand the needs of the flesh.’

  ‘No, Mother,’ he hissed. ‘I do not think of food, or sleep, only of touching girls. Of staring into their eyes and bringing them to me.’

  ‘All men have these urges, my son. You must learn to control them.’

  ‘Girls have life. I want them,’ he said darkly, smacking his lips. ‘It’s rich. Delicious. I can smell their vigour as they pass me in the passageways.’

  Quxa frowned at his use of the word ‘vigour’, as if he were a perverted old drunk drooling over a young tavern wench.

  Mel came to her mother, frightened for Shovock, and compared the black of his eyes to spilled ink spreading across parchment. Endra, who preferred to be called by her last name, Toxiv, raged at her sister.

  ‘You’re afraid of your own shadow, Mel,’ Toxiv shouted. ‘Shovock’s our brother. He saves snails and takes them outside, for the gods’ sake. It doesn’t matter if he’s different, he still needs our love.’

  Quxa admired Toxiv’s loyalty, but in this matter, thought it naive. The sisters squabbled further which put their mother in a melancholy mood. She would keep a close eye, well…ear, on Shovock’s movements.

  After he disclosed his yearning for the opposite sex, Quxa lied to Shovock, telling him she felt woozy and constantly needed him at her side. They did not speak of his desires again.

  5

  Toxiv

  Summer arrived in the mountains which meant Toxiv, Mel and Shovock could venture outside. They girls swore to watch over their brother while they explored the surrounding valley.

  The air gusted, then ebbed, allowing the sun time to heat Toxiv’s skin before it gusted cool again. The triplets set up rabbit traps, explored caves, and welcomed the warmer weather.

  In winter, the mountain cave systems were a living tomb. The snow piled high, blocking the entrance for a month before dwindling under spring’s caress. Outside, Toxiv spread her arms to the sky, laughing, breathing in the wide spaces.

  Mel threw soggy snowballs at Shovock, but of late his mood had grown sullen and he barked at her to stop. When Mel hugged her brother, apologising, Shovock hugged her back, apologising for his outburst. They walked hand in hand, causing a pang of jealousy in Toxiv’s chest. Over the past month, she’d developed an unnatural want for her brother. His black hair, like a stallion’s mane, and ever blackening eyes held a mysteriousness she dwelt upon.

  The new feelings made her wi
sh Mel didn’t exist so Shovock’s attention was solely for her. She felt a similar darkness as her brother admitted, and lacked the warm heart that others seemed to possess.

  Mel and Shovock had straight noses and teeth, and symmetrical features while the left side of Toxiv’s face sat lower than the right. The small gap in her front teeth sat off centre with her nose, and although the same age, Toxiv stood two inches shorter than her sister. Mel’s doe-like eyes with thick lashes, coupled with her warm heart, made her insufferable company. The sanctuary’s soldiers seasoned fighters were young, handsome squires: lads who vied for Mel’s attention. But she laughed at their advances, and kept to Shovock’s side.

  Already the roots of Mel’s hair glimmered gold. Her womanly change was coming, and with it the shimmering gold hair of the healers. Toxiv’s hair remained dull brown with no signs of change.

  ‘Some healers don’t develop until their fifteenth year,’ a Superior said to Toxiv in a failed attempt to reassure her. Shovock’s hair grew long and black. All that remained of the brown of his hair was an inch at the bottom. His voice deepened lower than most men’s, which only increased Toxiv’s desire for him.

  One day, Toxiv was leaving her family’s quarters for morning lessons when Mel stopped her.

  ‘What is it, I’m late?’

  Mel’s thick, golden locks framed her clear and olive skin beautifully making her look innocent. ‘I need your approval.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Shovock told me last night that he plans to seduce a girl.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘He said he has a kind of magic.’

  Toxiv frowned, then nodded. ‘I’ve felt it too. The blackness—’

  ‘Yes,’ Mel said nervously. ‘It’s endless, like the night sky.’

  ‘If he has a plan, then I support you in telling Mother. That is what you intend, isn’t it?’

  Mel nodded sadly.

  Toxiv held her sister’s shoulder. ‘Trust that you are doing the right thing.’

  Mel jolted from her melancholy and narrowed her perfectly shaped eyes. ‘You always take his side.’

  ‘I must go.’ Toxiv picked up her things and left Mel dwelling upon her suspicions. Their mother would soon return from fetching the week’s supplies. She often left early to have best pick of the produce, but this morning Toxiv had risen early to watch her mother and Shovock leave, and then predicted they’d return no more than two hours later. Toxiv’s classes had already began, but her plan took priority.

  She waited at the doorway, pretending to be tying her boots.

  ‘Almost turning,’ she heard Shovock say as he guided their mother home.

  Toxiv left the room, turned left and said, ‘Good morning, Mother. I have classes now.’

  ‘Have a learned morning, my ray of sunlight,’ her mother replied gleefully.

  ‘I will, Mother,’ she replied, purposefully catching Shovock’s eye. ‘Mother, can Shovock walk me to my morning lesson?’

  ‘I can’t see why not. Shovock?’

  ‘I’ll go,’ he said.

  ‘Come right back,’ their mother said.

  ‘Yes, Mother. Bye.’

  ‘Bye, you two.’

  Toxiv put a finger to her lips, took her brother’s hand and hid behind the wall at the edge of their home’s doorway that was serviced by an underground corridor.

  Shovock leaned over and whispered. ‘What are we doing?’

  Toxiv froze at his breath on her ear, but managed to reply. ‘Mel plans to talk to Mother this morning. We’re spying on their conversation.’ His nearness made her heart race. She pressed her cheek against her brother’s, the corners of their lips touching; he allowed it.

  ‘Mother,’ asked Mel in the distance.

  Toxiv jolted from her lust and tapped Shovock’s shoulder, indicating to listen to his mother and sister talking.

  ‘Yes?’ replied their Mother.

  ‘I found sketches in Shovock’s room.’

  ‘What do they show?’

  ‘Naked women, and last night he told me that he intended to seduce a girl.’

  A silence passed as their mother whispered. ‘Burn the pictures.’

  Shovock huffed beside Toxiv and she clamped a hand over his mouth shushing him.

  ‘But—’ said Mel.

  ‘Fetch me his drawing instruments,’ said their mother. ‘The time has come for you to do your duty as his sister.’

  ‘What would you have me do?’

  ‘Shovock has no future among the sanctuary. We must keep him out of trouble until he is of age to make his way as a man. Until then, we will protect him, and others.’

  ‘By others, you mean girls?’

  ‘Yes,’ said their mother.

  There was a pause in their conversing. Toxiv stole a glance at her brother to see a murderous scowl on his face. She reached out, and held his hand.

  ‘Endra said she will help.’

  Ugh, Toxiv thought. I hate it when mother uses that name.

  Shovock’s eyes were on Toxiv who turned and whispered, ‘I agreed only so you could know the truth. I am on your side.’

  ‘Your brother is no healer,’ said the mother to Mel. ‘I believe there might be evil within him. We will know as he matures and becomes a man.’

  Mel, being the more naïve of the triplets, sobbed loudly. ‘I read his journal too. He writes about servant girls’ habits. What time they wake. Where they’ve been. What they eat.’

  Shovock sniffled, and for the first time, there were tears on her brother’s cheeks. Toxiv reached out to hug him but he pushed her away. ‘Don’t pity me. Mother is right. You should stay away from me.’

  Toxiv grabbed her brother’s face and kissed him. Gently at first, but when he kissed her back Toxiv felt her body come to life in a way she’d only felt when touching herself at night, alone in her bed.

  Shovock drew back suddenly, gasping. ‘No,’ he hissed. ‘This is wrong.’ He backed away up the passage but Toxiv followed him.

  ‘Talk to me,’ she said, raising her arms. ‘Who else do you have?’

  He stopped and she hugged him to her. After a moment, he set her away from him. ‘Promise me you won’t be scared.’

  ‘I promise,’ she said.

  He lifted his tunic, baring his chest. Spreading away from Shovock’s heart were black veins like a spider’s weave. They pulsed ever so slightly. She reached out to touch them but he yanked down his top. ‘I’m a monster. In time, you will turn against me, like Mother, like Mel.’

  Shovock twisted and stalked away.

  6

  Toxiv

  Shovock’s midnight hair grew long so he could brush it across his oval, black veined face. In addition, he wore a kerchief scarf across the bridge of his nose, and gloves to cover his hands. Black veins bloomed in his eyes, crawled up his neck; the whites of his eyes soon disappeared entirely.

  Toxiv mourned the loss of her brother’s playful and happy demeanour several years ago, and yet she welcomed the changes to Shovock’s character. They isolated him, and as she was one of few who gave him sympathy without fear, he turned to her for consolation.

  Then came the rages. Shovock overturned a breakfast table one morning shouting at their cook who’d served him a platter of fruits, bread and butter. Mother, Mel and Toxiv were sprawled on the floor after jumping back, out of the table’s way.

  ‘I can’t eat this!’ Shovock yelled.

  ‘Then what can I get you young master?’ the cook said shakily, clutching a wooden spoon as if it were a shield.

  Shovock raked his long, white fingers through his grimy black hair; a slimy clump came free. ‘I need food.’

  When he noticed the fear in his mother’s face, he growled and fled the room.

  Every night, when dusk fell, Toxiv kept one eye open for Shovock. She didn’t disapprove of what he needed for she loved him without judgement, but if he were discovered hurting a woman, he’d be sent away. Life would be nothing without him.

  One ni
ght, Mel and her mother had fallen asleep early. Toxiv checked on Shovock to find his bed empty. An impulse to wake her mother surfaced, but she squashed the impulse by taking up a torch and lighting it on a sconce outside their rooms.

  After an hour of searching all the hiding places of their childhood, she heard a bump in one of the sanctuary’s storerooms. Toxiv crept between dusty crates to the old shelving at the rear of the room; there she found Shovock and a woman, at least three times her brother’s age, hidden in the shadows between barrels of vegetables. Her arms were pinned above her head against the stone wall. The servant woman’s mouth curved into an empty smile, her eyes corpse-like. Shovock’s whispers raised the hair on Toxiv’s neck as ungloved hands trailed down the servant’s waist.

  ‘Shovock,’ Toxiv said, firmly. ‘Let her go.’

  Her brother’s arms were thin, and his tunic curved against jutting ribs. He spun on her menacingly, but Toxiv didn’t fear him. Thick lashes blinked over the infinite blackness of eyes that seemed capable of consuming time itself. As a healer, Toxiv was spared the full coercive power of his gaze, yet even so she felt it as an invisible force nudging her to submit.

  Toxiv swallowed and crossed her arms. ‘Come home. Now.’

  Shovock turned back to his victim and whispered into her ear, waking her to reality.

  ‘Oh,’ the woman said, feeling her forehead. Shovock picked up the woman’s bucket and cleaning cloth and offered them to her.

  ‘Get to work,’ he ordered.

  Disoriented and confused, she fled the scene in a bumbling, embarrassed mess.

  Shovock stalked to Toxiv. A black vein pulsed on his forehead.

  ‘I love you,’ she said.

  His breath was putrid. ‘I must have one.’

  ‘I know. Soon. You’re too young.’

  ‘But you want me,’ he said, smiling deviously. ‘And you’re but thirteen like me.’ Shovock softened his manner. ‘I can’t s-stop.’ Snapping back to his hardened state, he growled and shoved his sister aside with no clear intention to return home.

 

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