by H. D. Gordon
“I don’t believe it,” Asha mumbled.
My head snapped toward her. “What the hell do you mean? You’re the entire reason we’re here.”
The Demon gave me a grin that just begged to be slapped from her stupidly pretty face. “Yeah, but I wasn’t entirely sure this place even existed.” She shrugged, still grinning as she absorbed our surroundings. “How could I be?”
“Have I told you lately how much I hate you?” I said, before my gaze was drawn back to the architecture and scenery around us.
“Right back at ya,” Asha replied, but her voice had no bite to it.
Even Vega seemed to be looking around, as it was impossible not to. At this point, I was pretty sure the three of us had crossed a good portion of the damn world, and I knew I was not alone in thinking that this was easily the most visually stunning of any of the places we’d ever been before.
It was obvious that artists, rather than builders, had crafted the city, and the stark white of the structures bordering the crystalline turquoise of the water was a marvel. Gold domes topped the cylindrical pieces, while enormous columns held the roofs of others aloft. The clouds hung in the blue sky in a way that looked almost painted, as though some clever hand had added them in expert brush strokes.
The weather was a perfect seventy degrees, and a slight, salty breeze blew off the water and ventilated through the white buildings, kissing my burned skin like the gentle lips of a lover.
Somewhere in the distance, a bell tolled, and we watched as bald males with the palest skin I’d ever seen filed out of a structure that had been crafted with particular care. Frescos and sculptures adorned the outside of it, each one a work of art in itself. The architecture was such that it was built high and imposing, as much a symbol of power as any I’d ever seen.
The pale-skinned males in white robes behaved as though they did not even see us, despite the fact that we were pretty damn hard to miss considering the setting and our appearance. Instead, they formed a line and filed out of the decorated building, marching down the street with unspoken purpose.
“Are they Seers?” I asked Asha, keeping my voice low for whatever reason.
Asha nodded slowly. “I think so,” she said. “Young ones. In training, maybe.”
A voice from behind us made me jump, and my companions reached for their various weapons as we spun on our heels and saw a bald, pale-skinned male with an easy smile standing right behind us.
“The Acolytes are very dedicated, yes,” the male said.
I was careful to keep my face free of any reaction, but looking at him dead-on was difficult. Just in the journey here alone, I’d seen a number of veritable horrors, but I’d never seen any creature that looked quite like this. With that milky-white skin and hairless head, and the face that was almost normal, but not, looking at him felt somehow wrong. His skin was wrinkled around the mouth and eyes, and his lips were black at the seam, as if he’d eaten charcoal or ash.
His eyes were the worst, though, just two milky white orbs that seemed to see without looking.
The silence that fell over my group was all the indication I needed that my companions felt the same unease. Whatever they’d seen in their own lives, there was nothing that quite compared to this.
I opened my mouth to introduce us, but before I could, the Seer spoke again.
“Rukiya Moonborn, former slave and orphan,” he said, bowing his head slightly toward me. “Asha Astra, daughter of the Great Demon, Rangda,” he added and gave her the same nod. “And Vega, Knight of the Valacs and breaker of blood oaths.” His white gaze fell on Vega, and Asha and I exchanged another look at the strange details we kept slowly gathering about our travel companion.
“You must be weary from your travels,” the Seer said, as if he had not just summed up the most intimate pieces of our lives with a few names. He turned on his heels, and I caught a glimpse of toeless feet before his long robe concealed them again.
“Follow me,” he said. “We have prepared chambers for you.”
“You knew we were coming?” I asked.
The Seer looked back over his shoulder, and a toothless grin appeared on his withering face. “Oh, indeed. All who seek the City are known, though most do not ever make it.” The smile grew wide enough to almost kiss his ears, the black seam of his lips splitting grotesquely.
“And let me be the first to welcome you,” the Seer added, trailing us along. “You have proven that you are worthy, and as such, you are much honored guests.”
The words were amicable, friendly, even, but something about the Seer’s tone made my stomach twist.
But we followed, anyway, because we had not come this far to turn back now.
23
No one stared as we were led through the perfectly paved streets. No one even looked our way. It was almost as if everything in the city was exactly where it should be, and since we were here, that included us.
We walked only a short distance before the Seer led us up a few steps to a smaller structure with columns adorning the front. Though it was not nearly as extravagant as the place of worship we’d glimpsed earlier (I couldn’t be sure that that’s what the building the Acolytes had come out of was, but it didn’t take a genius to deduce) it was still luxurious and opulent.
As we passed through the columns, I saw that the structure was shaped like a box, with rooms arranged around the outside, creating a square and an open courtyard in the middle. The courtyard held various trees, heavy with citrus fruits and a fountain that burbled gently in the background.
Every appearance gave the impression of a calm and peaceful place, every detail at odds with the various warnings I’d received while traveling here.
Was this frail, bald, and pale creature really the fearsome Seer everyone seemed so afraid of? Was this really the city of unspeakable danger about which I’d been continuously warned? With everything we’d gone through to get here, this seemed downright easy.
But perhaps this was all part of the trickery.
“Here we are,” said the Seer, waving a hand that was concealed in the folds of his robes toward three doors that sat side by side. “Rest,” he added. “Then we will dine and discuss the answers you came to obtain.”
I glanced over at my companions, wondering if they were as confused by all of this as I was. Where were the nefarious beings we’d been warned about?
By the time I looked back at the Seer, the spot he’d been standing in was empty, as if he’d just disappeared into thin air.
Asha and I met each other’s gazes, and I was almost as shocked at our ability to exchange unspoken messages with just a single look as I was about this place and these people. Vega did not speak, but I also knew him well enough by this point to know that the Valac warrior was on his toes.
I tried the knob to the door nearest me, and it opened without even stirring the air. Inside, there was a large bed, a desk, and another door that likely led back to a washroom.
Without a word to one another, the three of us filed into the space together, Vega shutting the door behind us.
Within a handful of moments, Asha and I were side-by-side on the bed, our exhaustion from the journey pulling us under the veil of sleep within moments.
Vega sat in the chair in front of the desk, keeping watch for the first shift until I would wake and relieve him later. He took his fearsome helmet off and set it atop the desk, watching the door in that stoic way of his.
Asha passed out before I did, and I took the handful of moments before sleep claimed me as well to ponder the way we’d all decided without words that we did not want to be in separate rooms. Just before falling asleep, I lifted my head and nodded my thanks at Vega for taking the first shift, and the Valac warrior nodded in return.
Despite the splendor, the crystalline waters, the blue sky and quiet streets, and the welcoming reception from the Seers, the fact that the three of us did not want to be separated spoke legions.
Perhaps the Seers were merely wolves in
sheep’s clothing, and this would be the most dangerous leg of the journey thus far.
We slept, and were not attacked or disturbed.
I couldn’t say how much time we spent sleeping because there were no windows in the room, and no timepieces, either.
Once the three of us were rested and bathed, a knock sounded on the door as if on cue, and I opened it to find a stack of white boxes. On top of these boxes was a little note, and I plucked it up and turned toward Asha and Vega.
“These are for us, apparently,” I said. “We’ve been invited to a dinner.”
Asha’s eyes narrowed as she pushed past me and grabbed one of the stacked white boxes outside the door. She tore off the top and pulled out what was inside.
“I’m not wearing this shit,” she said, eyeing the white robe that was folded up inside.
I sighed. “Yes, because you can fight snakes and scorpions, sail with pirates and bed random barmaids, but a white dress, that is where you draw the line.” I gave her a droll look. “Makes total sense.”
Asha scoffed, but to my shock, she did not respond with some shitty comment.
Instead, she said, almost as if to herself, “I want to go home.”
I gathered the other two boxes and closed the door of the room, mumbling that that made two of us.
“We’ve already come so far,” I said, shucking off my clothes down to my undergarments and pulling one of the white robes over my head. “If all that’s left to do is wear their outfits and eat at their table, then let’s just do it so that we can get back to where we all want to be.”
I’d turned my back, and when I looked over my shoulder, I saw that the two of them were staring at the scars there, at the map of my life story, at every strike of the whip, at the raised crescent moon brand that had been colored over with scarlet ink.
Feeling the same pang of shame I always did when others glimpsed my back, I pulled the robe over my head quickly and raised my chin when I turned back to them, my jaw clenched tight enough to ache.
I fully expected some crappy remark from Asha, but again, I was surprised that instead of arguing, she merely disrobed herself. I wasn’t really trying to look, but I noticed the long, jagged scar that ran along her lower abdomen, the kind of cut that mothers required when things went wrong in childbirth… but as far as I knew, Asha did not have any children.
The two of us stared at each other for a moment, and I couldn’t say what, but it felt as though some common understanding was shared, some recognition of struggle.
But then Vega began to strip out of his armor, and Asha and I stared like we’d never seen a naked male before. The Valac warrior was muscle from head to toe, the ridges of his abdomen defined and his legs as large as tree trunks.
But this was not what made us stare.
I’d thought my body was scarred, but there was barely an unmarred bit of skin to speak of on Vega. Jagged lines had been cut into the skin of his chest, his arms, his back, and every other part that was visible, in a pattern that revealed a purpose. I knew scars well enough that I knew in order to get the skin to raise like that, the incisions had to be deep, the cuts painful.
Asha and I said nothing as he donned his own white robe, covering that map of scars that no doubt told some graphic story.
When Vega met our gazes, I could tell that he did not want our pity, and I could relate to this on a level deeper than I wanted to dig into.
Then we all just stood there for a moment, staring at each other in our white robes, each of us baring scars that spoke of our individual hardships, of all the horrors we’d faced in our lives.
And, yet, here we were; in this mystical city, getting ready to deal with creatures we knew next to nothing about, save for the warnings we’d received along the way.
I tried to think of something inspiring, of some way of voicing the rather heavy emotions that were coursing through me, incited by the sight of my companions’ scars, but before I could do so, the door to the room swung open, and the same Seer who’d greeted us before stood there, a small grin on his black-stained lips.
“Follow me,” he said, and turned to lead us to our fates.
The three of us stuck close together as we filed out of the room.
24
Night fell in an instant.
In one moment, we were strolling up the paved street, the sun glaring brightly overhead, and in the next, the sky darkened, a million stars appearing in the heavens, as if someone had flipped a switch or drawn a curtain.
If the sight of the City was breathtaking during the day, it was absolutely awe-inspiring at night. The gray, sloping streets were lined with ornate lampposts, inside which turquoise flames flickered, casting colorful, shifting shapes over the surfaces of the white buildings, making the architecture itself appear to be alive. The golden domes capping the towers gleamed under the light of endless stars, and the sound of the gently churning sea could be heard for the utter silence that seemed to hang perpetually over the place.
I was careful to take note of the surroundings, marking the places of certain fountains, statues, and monuments, but mostly out of habit. The golden door we’d come through to get here had disappeared the moment we’d stepped through, and I wouldn’t know how to get out of here if we did need to end up making some great escape.
The Seer said nothing as he led us toward an enormous structure near what I guessed to be the center of the City. When we crested a small hill, and the building came into full view, the sheer size of it nearly stole my breath away.
In all my life, I’d only seen one structure that rivaled it in size, and that had been the arena Reagan Ramsey had built to hold The Games. That arena was the place where my entire world had shifted in a matter of heartbeats, where I’d defied the Pack Masters, killing one and freeing a Firedrake in the process, all while securing what I’d thought would be my certain death at the time.
Massive columns made up the front of the building, standing some forty feet tall, towering over the City, supporting the slightly arched roof, where statues of various angelic-looking creatures peered down from the edges. In the center of the façade, an intricate fresco had been rendered with enough detail to suggest that the work of art likely told a story. I peered up at it as we approached, trying to read the tale, which was made all the more difficult for the turquoise light from the lampposts dancing along the surface.
From what I could see, the fresco depicted the Seers, lined up before a much larger robed figure with a long beard. The Seer at the front of the line was kneeling before this great figure, receiving some sort of blessing or anointment. Below this, carved in much smaller portions, as if to indicate their lesser significance, were all other manner of creature, most of which I recognized from the mural painted on the ceiling of the library in Mina. There were Werewolves and Vampires, Elves and Gnomes and Fae, Magic users, Leprechauns, Mermaids, Firedrakes, and so on. Each of these figures seemed to be poised in a state of confusion or agony, many of them with their heads tilted back, as if crying up toward the Seers above for some sort of assistance, or perhaps, in anger.
I didn’t know much about art, as my life as a slave had been particularly deprived of it, but from what I did know, art revealed the true nature of its creators, and to a larger extent, its commissioners. I also knew that art was often used by those in power to spread their messages and ideas, as those with power were often the only ones with the funds to commission pieces as intricate as the fresco looming above me.
In fact, now that I thought about it, this entire city was built in a way that reeked of incredible wealth and power. What other reasons were there to build such imposing, detailed structures? Why else would one create endless statues of robed males and divine beings, if not to enforce the illusion that these were mighty and divine creatures?
Art was often thought of as something that the poor took part in to relieve the constant stress of their miserable lives, and while that was true, it was also a tool used by those who held the l
eashes.
The tall double doors that led inside were carved of white oak ash, and around the frame, carvings of winged creatures with tails and horns stood in silent guard. The smell of delicious foods drifted out, but my stomach was too twisted with unease to generate a proper response.
The inside of the place only reinforced my impressions. The ceiling was forty feet high, and on it, depictions of the Gods had been painted in contrasting light and dark, realistically rendering deities that I could not begin to guess the names of.
Columns and pillars also supported the inside, leaving a great open space in the center of the massive room, where a long table with over one hundred chairs had been set up. At this table sat what looked to be every Seer in the city, duel rows of bald heads and milky white skin. Every set of cloudy eyes turned toward us as we entered, and I knew I was not alone in my immediate discomfort.
The Seers might not be snapping their jaws or growling, but there were other ways to exhibit power, to make sure others understood where they fit in the order of hierarchy.
The Seer who’d retrieved us led us to three empty chairs at the middle of the table, and we took our seats.
I realized then that there were also only three plates, and all the various food that had been placed out had been done so right in front of where we sat.
Instead of plates, the Seers had ornate silver goblets in front of them, and I had to stop myself before leaning over to peer at what might be inside.
As one, the one hundred Seers seated at the table spoke. “Let us eat,” they said, their voices echoing off the high ceiling and walls. The effect was chilling; every one of their voices sounded exactly the same, and their movements coordinated as well.
When I realized they were waiting for us to begin eating, all those sets of milky eyes staring at us, I began to fill my plate with the various foods that had been set before me. I piled it high with meat and cheese, vegetables and baked bread, and took a bite that both of my noble companions watched with keen eyes.
