10,000 Suns

by Michelle L. Levigne

  "Well, Father?” she finally said.

  "Recovering. I knew you had a stronger spirit than anyone was giving you credit for."

  "Stronger spirit, but slow wits.” She held his hand when he would have let go. “Those men did not have shadows. I didn't notice until we returned to the palace and I couldn't escape."

  "No shadows?” Shazzur frowned as he thought. “The evil is more pervasive than anyone guessed. Who can we trust? Ah, and that could well be the intent of our enemy. Make us cower in our rooms, afraid to trust anyone, unsure where the enemy will strike next. If Bainevah lives in fear, we are defeated without a siege or battle being waged."

  "This is a plot that has been building slowly, through generations. Elzan and I found an enemy of the Mother, Maquaos Shadowmaker. Shadows, Father. He hates the Three because they defeated him. What if he is behind it?"

  "Then,” O'klan said slowly, “this is a battle among the demi-gods, and humans are only playing pieces in their game."

  "Game!” She shivered. “Father, did Elzan tell you of his dreams? He heard voices arguing over a game. He thought it was Draktan, but it made no sense."

  "Draktan?” Her father nodded. “A game in which the pieces change levels of power. But it does make sense. We have much work to do, my child, and very little time to do it. Summer solstice could see the end of this ‘game’ among the powers.” He smiled, looking very tired. “I fear we will all think we have been living in a pleasant dream up until now. Or that our most vile nightmares have become true."

  "Dreams?” Challen blushed as she remembered the charge from her mother. “Father ... Mother came to me before the Sacred Marriage. Lady Mayar will verify that she was there, flesh and blood, not just a vision. She said to tell you that she has visited you often in your dreams, but you were forbidden to remember when you woke."

  "Remember, and know they were true visitations, yes.” He nodded, and his eyes gleamed with tears. “But I have been comforted often by what I thought were merely dreams. It is good to know they were real."

  "She said to tell you the dreaming will soon end."

  "Ah?” He smiled and closed his eyes for many long moments. When he opened them again, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. His hands trembled and Challen felt the ragged, racing beating of his heart. “My dear, what a great gift you have given me. A blessing. Your mother was the completion of my soul, and my greatest joy is to know that you have found such oneness with Elzan. Bind yourself to him completely, and never let sorrows darken the light of your soul. Do you understand?"

  "Not completely, no.” Something tight loosened in her chest when Shazzur chuckled at her wry tone and patted her cheek.

  In a way, it was comforting to know that some things would never change between herself and her father. Challen decided she preferred his teasing and secrets. It meant all was right with the world and Shazzur was in control.

  * * * *

  O'klan couldn't seem to open the door quickly enough when Elzan reached Challen's rooms that evening. He hurtled through the door almost before it opened completely, scowling, his hair wet from crossing one outdoor courtyard for a shortcut. He stopped short in the middle of the main room, breathing heavily, staring as he took in the sight of Challen waiting for him.

  She had put on her only blue gown—dark, sapphire blue—and braided matching ribbons into her hair. She had washed her hair with lemon because he liked the scent. She wore no jewelry but his ring. Hands clasped demurely before her, head slightly bowed but still permitting her to see, she waited.

  O'klan grinned and nodded to her and left them completely alone.

  "Are you really all right?” Elzan demanded, sounding rather breathless.

  "Kiss me?” She muffled a squeak of protest when he leaped across the room and his arms enfolded her tightly enough to threaten her ribs. “Now I'm all right,” she whispered against his lips, as one kiss turned to many.

  * * * *

  "Warm now?” Elzan whispered in the darkness of her bedroom.

  Challen laughed. Perhaps she had complained too much. She preferred the dry cold of desert winters. That was bearable, but the ice that filled the air here seemed to seep into her bones. It didn't make the chill and damp any more bearable to know she and Elzan had been part of the turn of the seasons.

  "Here, wrapped in your arms—"

  "With twenty blankets around us."

  "I'm warm enough, yes.” She sighed in sleepy pleasure when he nuzzled at her ear. A tiny nip startled a squeak out of her. Elzan held her tight so she couldn't return the favor. “If you could only take care of my other little problems, everything would be perfect."

  "What little problems?"

  Challen smiled into the darkness. Elzan sounded indignant rather than worried, so he knew she was teasing.

  "Now that I must manage your household, when will I find time for my studies?"

  "That is what O'klan—"

  "He studies with me."

  "O'klan and your servants are for. You make decisions and give orders and they will manage everything else. Your only duties are to study the prophecies and be the joy in my life."

  "Such heavy duties."

  "O'klan is here to protect you. I am here to keep you warm and happy. All I ask is that you always look at me with your heart in your eyes."

  "Always.” Challen took a deep breath to stifle the sudden longing for tears. She turned in his relaxing embrace and rested her head on his chest. The curling, stiff hairs tickled her face. “We would be warmer if we wore clothes to bed."

  "Maybe.” The vibrations of his chuckle tickled against her cheek. “We would certainly get more sleep.” Now Challen had to laugh. “Too much comes between us during the day, love. I want nothing between us at night."

  Tears again threatened at the backs of her eyes. Challen found it hard to breathe. How could such happiness come to her in the middle of so much danger?

  The thudding of fists on a door echoed through her rooms. Challen flinched. “What—"

  "Sshh.” Elzan sat up, drawing her up with him. He listened as the knocking stopped. A pause of three heartbeats, then three more knocks.

  "Trouble?” she whispered.

  "I'm needed in Council.” Elzan slipped from between the blankets. His bare feet thudded on the furs carpeting the floor. Cloth rustled as he scrambled in the dark for his clothes.

  "Highness?” O'klan called through the closed door.

  "I heard,” Elzan called back. “Open—Challen?"

  "I'm fine.” She reached for the robe draped over the chair next to the bed and slipped it on.

  "Open the door so I can find my clothes, will you?” He muffled a curse as the door opened and lamplight streamed into the room. O'klan helped him put on his boots as Elzan struggled to turn his clothes right side out.

  I'm concubine to the Crown Prince, Challen reminded herself, fighting the resentment that threatened to sweep away the warmth and contentment of moments before. He will be called away whenever there is an emergency. I must get used to this.

  She followed Elzan to the door, and found Abendago and a handful of palace guards waiting for him. The scribe bowed and the guards averted their eyes. Challen felt her face burn. She had likely committed some social blunder. That didn't matter when Elzan stole one more kiss before hurrying down the hall. She waited in the open doorway, O'klan hovering protectively beside her, the two guards outside her door discreetly looking elsewhere. She watched until Elzan and Abendago and the guards vanished around a corner.

  A door opened with a soft click, near the opposite end of the long, wide hallway. Challen started to step back into her room to close the door, but curiosity made her turn to look.

  For a moment, in the dim light of the few lamps, she thought Elzan came from the doorway. This prince's hair wasn't quite as glossy and didn't have that bluish cast. Harsh lines around eyes and mouth made him look older.

  When the prince walked through the puddle of light from
the lamp hanging next to Lady Mayar's door, he cast no shadow.

  Despite herself, Challen gasped softly and flinched back from her door. The movement and sound made him look at her. His eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed as he scowled at her. O'klan stepped in front of Challen, visibly challenging the angry prince. The guards snapped to attention without looking directly at anyone. The prince continued on his way.

  "Something is wrong,” she whispered when she was safe behind her closed door again. “He shouldn't have been in this hallway, should he?"

  "The only women here are the King's concubines.” O'klan's midnight brow furrowed in thought.

  "He was visiting his mother?"

  "That is Prince Shadrash. His mother died three years ago. Rumors say another concubine poisoned her because Shadrash beat her son. But, there was no proof."

  "That's the way of it here, isn't it? Rumors, never proof. I don't want to hear any of this!” She sank onto the closest couch, fists against her temples. “But I should hear, to be prepared."

  "You are most wise, Lady.” O'klan bent and took her hands. “Come, you must go back to your bed and sleep. Your prince will not return to you tonight."

  "Or for many nights,” she murmured. Her faithful adviser said nothing to contradict her. “No. There is work to do. O'klan, Prince Shadrash had no shadow. Go tell my Father, and have the prince watched. Perhaps he will lead us to the source of the magic that threatens us."

  CHAPTER 18

  O'klan reported what they had seen to Shazzur. No one but the Council and the recording scribes could get in to see the King and Elzan.

  Thanks to the half-day thaw which had covered the kingdom, several spies had returned to Bainevah earlier than expected. One reported that Moragraen to the south prepared for war along all its borders, not just the border with Bainevah. Whether it prepared to defend itself, or knew another country planned to pass through to reach Bainevah, no one was sure. The healer priests had yet to find the melody for the ancient song Veerian hoped would counteract the enemy's magic. Shazzur and Lady Mayar agreed that finding the song was necessary, to use as shield and weapon against the enemy. They could not face down the suspected prince until they had that shield.

  Elzan didn't want to discuss such things when he finally broke free six days later. He muttered in his sleep, angry, and twitched as if fighting enemies in his dreams. Challen held him and told no one what she had heard. She expanded her studies to include geography and the countries which bordered Bainevah.

  Challen had enough to occupy her time when Elzan was busy with the Council and possible border wars. Every morning, she went to the Healers Temple to work for a few hours, then spent the rest of her day at the Scribes Hall with Haneen, whom Chief Scholar Cho'Mat gladly assigned as her assistant. They worked hard, only stopping for meals when O'klan forced them.

  There was a significance to the lack of shadows. The more Challen and Haneen studied, the more sure they both were that Maquaos Shadowmaker was involved. What sort of power did the fallen demi-god wield that he stole the shadows from his victims? Did willing minions also lose their shadows? Did it mean they were slowly fading into another realm? Could Rushtan and Tamisra die soon, if they were not cured?

  Challen seemed to be the only one able to detect the lack of shadows and she was both grateful and frustrated; grateful she was believed, and frustrated that she had to always be on the alert to detect the lack. Suddenly, it seemed everyone in Court avoided bright lights and stayed in the shadows where their lack of one could not be detected.

  One of the few amusing changes in her life came from Prince Mynoch, who insisted on accompanying Challen whenever she left the palace. He hovered in doorways in the Healers Temple, trying not to be sickened by the work she did. She admired him for fighting his queasy stomach to watch over her. In return, she tried not to laugh at his infatuation with Haneen.

  Haneen was not at all impressed by the prince's presence; especially when he couldn't find a single scroll without help. Mynoch, however, wore a dazed smile whenever Haneen was present. If Challen got up to find a scroll and Haneen stayed seated, Mynoch stayed seated. If Haneen got up and Challen stayed seated, the young prince followed the scribe girl to help her. Haneen appeared not to notice him, except when he got in her way. Mynoch tried very hard to understand the work they were doing and Challen admired his attempts. Was he truly interested, or was it only to earn Haneen's approval?

  Elzan grumbled about Mynoch's presence, but laughed with relief when Challen told him about the hopeless love the prince showed for the girl scribe.

  "I know exactly how he feels.” Then he had kissed her, driving away all thoughts of her research that day.

  Elzan asked his friends in the Host of the Ram to watch Shadrash, and told them what had been discovered. He confessed to Challen that he was amused and flattered that most of his friends believed Shadrash was a willing partner in the slow infiltration of evil, rather than a victim.

  His amusement vanished, however, when Shadrash vanished from under the watch of Elzan's friends, Belten and Oyen. The two had been doubly diligent because they felt responsible for the kidnapping attempt on Challen. All the Host of the Ram joined the search during a thickening snowstorm. They checked all the haunts where the fleeing prince might go for shelter; hunting lodges, inns, brothels.

  The morning after the snowstorm, Shadrash's body, and that of the man who tried to kidnap Challen, were found in a garden courtyard. A team of servants had gone to sweep away the new snow and begin preparations for redesigning the bushes and the patterns in the flowerbeds. They found the two dead of multiple stab wounds, bloody knives in their hands, lying in puddles of frozen blood. To all appearances, they had argued and battled, and managed to kill each other. Elzan and Challen, Shazzur and Lady Mayar knew better. Whoever controlled the two had realized that they were under suspicion, and had killed them rather than let their tools fall into enemy hands.

  "He throws away his broken tools to keep them from betraying him,” Elzan said a few nights later, when they were able to spend some private time in Challen's rooms. A strangled chuckle broke from him. “I never thought I would pity Shadrash. Then again, I never thought I would be grateful to Mynoch. He's turning out to be a friend. And he adores Haneen."

  "The problem is learning how Haneen feels,” she said, and settled down at her loom. She had come to a particularly intricate part of the border design and she wanted to get it completely finished before she went to bed.

  "The problem is the scandal someone in Court will try to start, if he spends any more time with you."

  "Oh.” Challen mentally kicked herself for not anticipating that. “I am so tired of politics and everyone looking for the worst in everything."

  "So am I, love.” Elzan stretched out on the couch on his side. “How do you do that?"

  "Do what?"

  "Weave."

  "You've never seen a loom used before?” She couldn't help laughing at the idea. The loom had always been part of her life. Her mother had been a skilled weaver, and Challen had taken great pride in working her skills up to her mother's level.

  "Mother loved to weave when I was small, before she became High Priestess. That was long ago. Show me how?"

  "You won't see enough from way over there.” She batted her eyelashes at him, earning a bark of laughter.

  Elzan came over to sit next to her and for several minutes there were no sounds but the brushing of threads, the clicking of the shuttle as it tapped the braces on each pass and the chiming of the warp weights against the floor as she adjusted them. Challen worked past the border piece and for several passes there was nothing but plain white thread.

  "That's it,” Elzan whispered. His hand shot out and stopped her hand, just as she was about to pass the shuttle through the threads. “That's the sound from my dreams."

  Challen went very still as his words reverberated in her heart and mind. It made so very much sense; the sound of weaving, to her mind, hin
ted at the presence of the Three. Did the “game” Elzan overheard concern the fate of the missing servants of the Mother? Was the outcome of the game more than just the fate of Bainevah, but the recovery of the Three also?

  * * * *

  They found no more answers as the quarters turned into moons, but Elzan and Challen couldn't complain. Veerian and the healer priests found the right music and words to break the magic that bound Rushtan and Tamisra's souls. Challen visited the two victims and verified that they had shadows again.

  Before the enemy could retaliate, Rushtan assembled a team and set out to search for Asha, Challen's brother. Shazzur believed that his missing son would be the key to the recovery of the Hidden City and the Three—and to Challen's surprise, he sent Rushtan and Veerian to the mountains that once held the city.

  * * * *

  Third Ascent Moon

  Anbis, the Drevan ambassador, came to the capital during the moon dark ceremonies, two moon quarters before equinox. Ostensibly, he had come to celebrate the marriage of King Nebazz to Lady Mayar. Elzan suspected any courtesy from Dreva or Chadrasheer or Moragraen. Because of his attitude, Challen was curious and paid extra attention to the newcomers.

  She glimpsed Anbis’ arrival on her way back to the palace after a full day in the Healers Temple. The spring illnesses were so virulent this year, she had forgone her time at the Scribes Hall five days in a row, to stay all day at the temple and support Lady Mayar. Cayeen, who had become a good friend and co-conspirator in dumfounding the entire Court, had met her on the way back from the temple. They saw the long procession coming down the wide road leading to the palace, and paused just inside the palace gates to watch the Drevan party arrive.

  "I thought all Drevans were pale,” Challen said, and glanced at O'klan in his usual spot at her right elbow. The big eunuch nodded, meaning he would look into it.