“You do?” Len-Ahl asked Rade. “How do you know about all that?”
“I was an acquaintance of Queen Angelica once,” Rade said, with a twinge of sadness, she thought. “It’s a long story, but I’m a part of this as much as you are, Len-Ahl. I know what you must do, and that we must get you away from here. Tell me, child, have you been having dreams lately?”
Len-Ahl nodded. “I dreamed I would come to this place, and that it would exact its toll on me. But I also got a certain feeling, like there was something I had to do here, or someone I had to meet. It is difficult to gather my thoughts in this dank place. I wish my mother was here. She always explained these things much better than I could.”
“Who was your mother?” Rade asked. “What was her name?”
“I do not know,” Len-Ahl said. “She never talked about herself very much, and I only ever called her ‘Mother.’ Is it important, Master Rade?”
“Perhaps.” Rade moved toward the torch to get a better view of her. “Please, look at me for a moment. I have to be sure of something.”
Len-Ahl met his gaze, and he stared into her eyes. Despite their mischievous twinkle, she could tell this old man’s eyes had seen a lot. After a few moments, he tore his gaze from hers and turned away. He disguised it well, but Len-Ahl briefly saw sorrow on his face. Before she could inquire about it, Nerris interrupted her thoughts.
“Len-Ahl,” he said, “I’m truly sorry about everything that’s happened. I should have told you, Dist, and Jhareth of the nature of my relationship with Qabala.” He held her hands in his, and she could feel the lingering warmth from the outside world, a feeling she had not experienced in days.
“It is all right,” Len-Ahl said. “This hardship is all part of being a Thrillseeker, no?”
Nerris chuckled. “I can’t say we haven’t been thrown in a dungeon or two. But I promise, I will get you out as soon as Rade and I can think of something. I haven’t forgotten you. You have a journey in front of you, and I want you to trust me. Know that no matter what I may do, I am on your side.”
Len-Ahl smiled. “I would never stop believing that.”
She saw Rade observing them out of the corner of her eye, and the Dume-General coughed. “I’m going to give you two a few minutes to yourself, but hurry it up, Nerris. If we’re gone too long, we’ll be missed.”
Nerris nodded. “Thank you, Rade.”
Rade exited the cell and shut the door behind him. Len-Ahl sat on her straw pallet, and Nerris knelt beside her. “Are you and Qabala really lovers?” she asked.
“Yes,” Nerris said, “and we have bedded together once again since I arrived here.”
Len-Ahl had to laugh in spite of herself. Nerris was not one to tell lies, but he did keep things hidden. In his haste to comfort her, he was baring all at the moment, and she sensed this might be her chance to get him to open up, if she had the courage to ask the questions on her mind.
“How can you love a woman like that?” she said. “Is she the one you talked about, the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with?”
“No,” Nerris said. “That woman’s name was Ketsuya. She died three years ago, and Qabala was my first lover since that time. She awakened feelings of passion in me I hadn’t felt in years, not just for the flesh but for life. It’s hard to explain if you haven’t lost someone you were devoted to so fully, but after Ketsuya’s death I wanted so bad to follow her. And I would have, if Dist and Jhareth hadn’t stopped me. But for the next three years, I was a mere shell, alive in body but dead in the soul. Until I met Qabala. For that, I owe her no end of gratitude, and it pains me to see what she has become. But she seems to be on a separate path, drifting farther away from me with every passing day. If only I had met her sooner...”
Len-Ahl shook her head. “If that had happend, we might not have met.”
“There’s that too,” Nerris said. “I’ve been confused these past couple of months. I never thought I would love again after Ketsuya, but Qabala showed me I could. And after I left Yagolhan I met you. And I have never been happier. I think I...”
He couldn’t quite bring himself to say it, bless his heart. She knew if he put those words into the air, he would look at it as the final betrayal of his Ketsuya. She could not let him do that. Not until the day when he understood it was not dishonorable to let go, or the consequences of what those words would entail for the both of them.
“You do not have to say anything,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “I know what is in your heart, Nerris.”
He smiled wanly. “You aren’t going to ask me how she died?”
“It is not my place.”
Nerris sighed, visibly relieved. He brushed a stray hair out of her face. “I’m not sure I can adequately explain it myself. But maybe someday. Right now, the important thing is to get you away from Qabala. I need to talk with Dist and Jhareth as well, and get her to release them if possible. And find a way to get Jinn’s medallion back.”
He rose and made his way to the door, and Len-Ahl found she did not want him to go. When he was gone, she would be in darkness again. Everything seemed easier to bear when Nerris was near.
Nerris opened the door and kissed her on the forehead. Len-Ahl bit her lip, determined to keep herself from crying. She had to be brave, and show him she could be fierce as a warrior queen like Qabala. He stepped out of the room, and Len-Ahl caught one last glimpse of Rade as he shut the door.
She looked at the torch, still in the wall sconce. “You will not need light?” she asked through the small barred window in the thick door.
“We’ll manage,” Rade said. “That is yours now, and when it goes out I’ll send a gaoler down with another. I promise you will not want for light anymore.”
Len-Ahl bowed her head. “Thank you.”
Nerris reached through the bars and touched hands with her for one brief moment. “I will be back for you,” he said.
In a moment they were gone, and Len-Ahl turned back to her pallet, feeling hope for the first time since she had come to this accursed place. They had taken her flute, but they had not taken her voice. She hummed a melody to the tune of the crackling of the salamanders’ flames, and filled the empty space with her lament.
She closed her eyes as she hummed, but she soon sensed something else present. Nerris and Rade had left, so why did she still feel a presence? She opened her eyes and stared at the corner of her cell. A trick of the light, perhaps, but the shadows there seemed blacker somehow, and misty. Len-Ahl stopped her song and set her jaw, scowling at the blackness.
“You have no right to judge me, half-faery,” the Tattered Man said. The black mist drifted between a figure in a tattered robe and shapelessness, shifting like the billows of a cloud. “You may be the Stonechaser, but there is much you do not yet understand.”
“No doubt,” Len-Ahl said to the emotionless voice. “Understanding is not required to complete a task you believe in.”
“The famous naivety of the faeries.” The shape of the Tattered Man finally formed, his pale hands almost glowing against the gray of his robes. “You are the world’s oldest beings, yet you all think like children. Allow me to introduce myself.”
“I know who you are,” Len-Ahl said.
“And you are not afraid?”
“You are Eversor’s foothold in our world, a mere extension of his will. I am not frightened by figments of the imagination.”
“I am much more than a figment,” the Tattered Man said. “Ask your Queen Angelica, if you can find her.”
Len-Ahl shook her head. “I do not need to. If you mean to intimidate me, do not trouble yourself. I know you cannot harm humans.”
“You are only half-human.”
“But you need me,” Len-Ahl said. “The reunion of the Exemplus and the Fatexion can open the gateway for Eversor, or it can seal him off from our world forever. But all of this with Yagolhan and the Cult is useless unless the second godstone is found.”
“Very perceptive,
” the Tattered Man said. “Whoever versed you in the secrets of the Stonechaser did so admirably.”
“The Stonechaser will uncover the Exemplus, and the Stonechaser has to earn her power. Your Qabala only understands that which is given to her. When it comes right down to it, that is all Eversor understands, no? The likes of you have no concept of struggle, love, friendship, or achievement.”
“An admirable sentiment,” the Tattered Man said, “but what will you do when you acquire that power? Angelica went through much trouble to conceal it. You may end up my instrument after all, like the last Stonechaser. I know you have seen that future as well.”
The mist faded, and the Tattered Man vanished. Len-Ahl let out her breath. If the Tattered Man could only appear for such a brief period, perhaps his hold on the Yagols was not as strong as she feared. Still, he remained a dangerous foe as long as he controlled Qabala and the Cult of Eversor, and his power would grow with time unless stopped.
She wondered why she felt no fear at meeting the enemy of her people. Perhaps because for all his power, he struggled as she did. And the consequences for his failure would be equally as dire for him. As she stared into the torchlight, she realized she need not fear the blackness. For even the darkest night had a sunrise. The light would always return.
Chapter Thirty-One
QABALA TAPPED HER fingers on the arm of her sitting chair as Meeka inserted the hot tongs into her hair. “Don’t burn me again,” she said. “Do it slowly.”
“Yes, my Eternal,” Meeka said. “I am sorry.”
Meeka could press a white hot iron to her flesh, and the burn marks would heal as soon as she removed it. However, the power of the Fatexion did nothing to dull the pain. The consequences of every wound she suffered were felt, and it would remain that way until the day when she reunited the godstone with the Exemplus.
Qabala sighed. “It’s not your fault, Meeka. I cannot seem to stop fidgeting.”
Tonight was the banquet in celebration of the arrival of the ambassadors from Miagama. The Irahi Sorcerers’ Guild had once been a power to be reckoned with in the far-flung eastern nation, to the point of causing stability problems for the Shogunate. Nowadays they were another dwindling order, much like the Earth Clerics. But where the clerics had once tapped into the power of the faeries, the Irahi drew their power from Eversor, even if it took them millennia to realize this. The Tattered Man had suggested she seek their aid, as he had worked diligently to nurture their power over the centuries.
She glanced toward the balcony, where their gift rested against the glass doors. It worked much as a spyglass, but was longer in length. It had come with the arrival of the governor’s vanguard. A spyglass which would allow her to closely gaze upon the stars themselves. According to their letter, only a few existed in this world, and had been recently invented by a pair of astronomers from Dellain. She could not wait to try it out, with Nerris by her side, of course.
However, first she had to make it through the banquet. Such occasion was mere tedium compared to the evening she had planned with Nerris afterward. She had decided to try a new hairstyle for the occasion, and suffered Meeka’s pokes and prods as the slave attempted to curl her hair with tongs heated in the fire. Truthfully, she didn’t much care for the process, and her hair would most likely be back to its natural wavy flow by the time the Miagamese governor arrived in a fortnight.
She smiled at that thought. Perhaps she would let Meznas sacrifice that woodwitch in the dungeons. Such an act would leave no doubt to the Irahi where her loyalties resided. She would throw another banquet to honor the governor, one where she planned to announce her engagement to Nerris. She wondered if he would appreciate her new look. She might decide to keep it yet if it made him forget about that half-faery wretch.
A knock sounded on her door, causing the Aeterna to turn her head sharply. Meeka poked her scalp again with the hot tongs and Qabala grimaced. She stood and slapped the tongs out of Meeka’s hands. “Enough, Meeka.”
The slave curtsied and rushed to answer the door. Meznas entered, a look of distaste writ on his face. He bowed. “My Eternal.”
“Yes, Meznas?”
“The ambassador of the Irahi Sorcerers’ Guild awaits at your pleasure in the great hall,” he said. The Grand Menista wore resplendent robes of black satin with crimson inlays to mark his rank. However, he also wore a sullen look on his face, and his eyes were flinty.
“What is it?” Qabala asked.
Meznas pursed his lips as if reluctant to speak. “Do we truly need these conjurors, my Eternal?” he asked. “The Cult and its practitioners are far more advanced than these yellow devils, both in ability and numbers. Has my service not been satisfactory?”
“I will need your followers here to fight Prince Lahnel when I go on my journey,” Qabala said. “I have some specialized tasks in mind for the Irahi.”
Qabala let Meeka finish her hair and dress her, and marched through the corridors of the Aeternica, meeting her Dume-Generals outside the great hall. Dume Yorne’s armor was polished to perfection, his eyes gazing at her through the hollowed slits of his helm’s visor. Dumes Valez, Quin, and Lukas had fancied up as well, all dust and dirt washed from their plate and cloaks. Even Falares didn’t smell as rancid as usual, and she wondered if he had bathed or merely saturated his armor with scented oil.
They entered the great hall from the side entrance, and Qabala ascended the dais where the throne of Yagolhan sat. The midday light beamed in from the long, vertical windows, illuminating the figures kneeling before the throne.
“On behalf of the country of Yagolhan and the Order of Peacekeepers, we welcome you,” Dume Yorne said. “Rise, and be received by Queen Qabala Aeterna, the Unbreakable, ruler of all Yagolhan.”
The ambassador and his entourage found their feet, and she found herself looking upon a slight, bearded man with the angular eyes and olive skin of the Miagamese. “Far and wide have the tales of the emergence of the Aeterna spread,” he said in a thick accent. “Even in far off Miagama the deeds of Queen Qabala are told within our circles. I am honored to represent the Irahi Sorcerers’ Guild in offering our assistance to your Eternal in all matters which you would find us useful.”
“I graciously accept your service,” Qabala said. “For far too long has the power of the Irahi gone without notice or respect in the world at large. Upon my victory over Prince Lahnel, perhaps we can change that in a way which would benefit both of us.”
The ambassador’s arms were folded together, concealed by the wide sleeves of his robe. He inclined his head to her. “The governor wishes to treat with you on these matters personally, your Eternal. He has sent us, the chosen few, with a demonstration of the power we can offer you.”
Qabala nodded, and the ambassador and his underlings stepped out of the way. There were maybe a half dozen of them, and they had concealed a wheeled structure behind them. It contained a great stone which she thought to be crystal, and it had the diameter of a wide shield. The two most ancient men she had ever seen stood on either side of it. Toothless and wrinkled to the point they barely resembled humans, they were bent and no taller than children. They wore flowing robes, and thin strips of black cloth covered their eyes, which had characters in the Miagamese language painted on them. Perhaps most shocking was that these old men were bound hand and foot in fetters.
“These men are Denzai,” the ambassador said. “Sorcerers among our order bound in slavery for their own protection, lest their power be unleashed without restraint. Approach the scrying crystal and they will show you many things you did not know.”
“Such as?” Qabala asked.
“Past, present, future,” the ambassador said, “but above all, truth.”
Qabala descended the dais, and Lukas and Falares parted to let her pass. However, Dume Yorne held out his arm. “My Eternal,” he whispered. “Can we trust these men?”
“Nothing they can do will harm me,” Qabala said. “I carry the Doom Rock.”
“It is not your physical well being which worries me,” Yorne said. “The Irahi are known as soul stealers. There’s no telling what you could see...”
Qabala laid a hand on Yorne’s gauntlet and gently pushed it aside. “I sense much power in the Irahi. They can aid me. But if they do play false, act accordingly.”
She could hear Dume Yorne’s resigned sigh through his visor, but he let her pass. Qabala approached the scrying crystal, and the fettered old men began to chant in a language she did not recognize. They sang the same phrase over and over again, their voices in unison.
The Denzai held their hands up. “Tunfa katua, tunfa katua,” they continued to chant in raspy voices.
Qabala stopped several paces from the crystal and looked at the ambassador. “What now?”
“Merely gaze into the crystal. Let your thoughts come naturally and you will see a secret revealed.”
Qabala turned her gaze back to the luminous crystal, which was emanating a faint glow. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to think about. The Tattered Man had said the Irahi would be able to help her, but she was not sure she wanted to rely on him so much. She was perfectly capable on her own, and with Nerris at her side, she felt like she could do anything.
The surface of the great crystal shimmered, and Qabala lost all sense of the great hall. Instead, she seemed to be in one of her dungeon cells deep beneath the Aeternica. Turning toward the door, she saw Nerris standing in front of her. Before she could ask him what was happening, he stepped forward as if not seeing her. She held out her hands to stop a collision, but Nerris passed right through her as if an apparition.
She whirled around and saw him standing over a huddled figure in the corner. Upon closer inspection, she saw a head of blonde hair darkened by dirt and dust, and hissed. It was that girl. Nerris stooped beside her and spoke, though Qabala could not hear him. She watched the silent conversation, but no words could tell her the story better than the girl’s eyes. She reached toward Nerris with her soul, and worse, Nerris was responding.
Secrets of the Stonechaser (The Law of Eight Book 1) Page 28
