“Sorry, sir. These two Priests were just telling me about Matron Serenitatis. She would make a great Palavant.”
“So I’ve heard, Lee. Nevertheless, you have security rounds to patrol. I suggest you get on with them.”
“Yes, sir. Of course.”
“Good night, Lee.”
“Good night, Scott, Catharsis.” The Knight nodded his respects to the two priests before leaving them. He strode toward Godilai.
She readied her dagger and hoped she did not have to use it. It would make the next few days difficult to bear should there be an investigation. Luckily, the Knight turned away from her and disappeared down the stairs she had just used. She breathed a sigh of relief.
She moved her gaze back to the library doors. At long last, no one was there. Godilai waited a moment longer for any noise, any movement. Hearing nothing, she bolted from her hiding spot and streaked to the library doors. They were locked, but she was prepared for that. Removing the small tool from her belt, she easily remedied the blockade. Finally, she was in.
“Annoying Humes,” Godilai muttered as she took in the space. The room was as long as the ferry that had transported her to the island. Several shelves leaden with countless books and tomes filled the space. A number of round tables with chairs were set between many of the shelves, more were stationed by a counter where the librarians would normally stand watch. Behind the counter was the gate behind which, Dimitri told her, was the rare books room.
In a few quick strides, she was at the counter; One deft leap and she was over it. She paused a moment to inspect the blockade and found such a meager defense useless. She tested the gate only to find it locked. She sighed and picked the lock.
Godilai winced at the ear-splitting screech of the aged metal as the gate swung open. She hoped no one had heard the noise. Deciding not to test her luck, she slipped inside the tiny room. It was pitch black within, but she was prepared for that. From one of the many hidden pockets on her bustier, she pulled out a hand-sized cylinder. A quick crack in half, a rough shake, and a soft glow of blue light emerged. It sent just enough of the darkness skittering to the corners so that she could see the books. She scanned the titles; Many were so worn from age that they had become illegible. When a quick scan left her with no results, Godilai began pulling books from the shelves. She made her way half through the collection before she realized one was out of place.
“R112…R114…R115… Damn! Don’t tell me someone has it.”
A loud clang made her jump. She quickly extinguished the light and wiggled through the opening of the gate. It squeaked as she brushed against the metal bars. She swore, shoved the rod into her pocket, and ducked behind the opposite side of the counter as a lantern scattered the shadows of the room.
“Who goes there?”
From the voice, Godilai could tell the intruder was a young male; more than likely Hume. She could easily slip out of hiding and kill him if needed. For the moment she would bide her time as he investigated the source of the noise that had summoned him.
There was a quick succession of taps, probably his weapon against the gate. “You are supposed to be closed,” said the boy. “Scared me out of my wits with your racket, you did. Listen to me! I’m talking to a gate!”
Godilai shook her head in annoyance. The boy sighed and closed the gate. Once again it protested the movement with a harsh screech. Godilai winced at the sound.
“Dang, that needs fixing,” the boy muttered and turned to leave. He paused when the gate creaked open again. He cursed it and forced it shut again. “The librarians will deal with you tomorrow.”
Godilai listened as the boy’s footfalls moved away. The light of his lantern vanished. She only breathed when she heard the lock click. She collected herself and left her hiding spot. She was not about to sneak her way back to Dimitri through the halls. The patrols would probably find her this time. She sighed and looked around the room again.
“Window or fireplace,” she muttered to herself.
She rolled her eyes and moved to the window. She was surprised to find that it was not locked. She pushed it open and studied the task before her. There was a narrow ledge just outside, then a sheer drop of two stories.
“That is almost too easy.”
Godilai lowered herself out the window. She balanced on her toes as she inched away from the escape route. Finally, she was able to close it. She glanced over her shoulder and, with a click of her tongue, pushed away from the cold marble. She twisted and flipped her body as she fell toward the lower level. She landed perfectly and dusted herself off. She whistled a tune as she walked to the edge of the roof. Another jump later, she was strolling along the Temple grounds amidst stalls and pens set up for the Festival.
“What are you up to?” called a girl’s voice.
Godilai found its source leaning against a wall and half concealed in shadow. After a moment, she stepped into the light of one of the torches. Godilai was taken aback at the girl’s appearance. Violet hair and a cold, magenta stare; she was Dákun Daju. Then Godilai spotted the Warrior’s badge on the girl’s shoulder, and she knew she had to take care for the girl could raise an alarm before Dimitri could obtain the diary he needed.
“Now there is something I did not expect.” Godilai exposed her neck in respects to the young Dákun Daju. “What is your name?”
The girl hesitated only a moment. “Zhealocera. You?”
“I am Godilai.”
Her magenta gaze shifted to the rooftop where Godilai had just been. “And what were you up to on the roof?”
“Stargazing.” Godilai swore to herself when the girl’s gaze snapped back to her. “Tonight is a great night for that.”
“Uh huh.” Zhealocera crossed her arms, and Godilai knew her story was doomed. She did not want to have to kill such a young clansman. Her only hope was if someone came to interrupt the girl’s constant stream of questions. “What are you doing here?”
“I am here to guard the high prince, Sortim. Surely you have been informed of his presence here.”
“I was not made aware of any Dákun Daju guards in His Majesty’s ranks.” Zhealocera frowned.
Smart girl. Godilai forced a smile. “So far there are only two of us. He keeps that fact hidden so other Humes do not lash out at him.”
“Who is the other one?”
“She is Luna Graves.”
“And is she with the high prince now?”
“Yes, of course.” Godilai quirked an eyebrow at the girl. Where was she going with these questions?
“And you say you were stargazing? What kind of guard are you?”
Godilai sighed. “I was allowed a break. Is it wrong to leave my prince in the care of others for a few minutes?”
“It would be,” Zhealocera smirked, “if you weren’t lying.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You would have had to have been raised by Humes to be fond of stargazing. Yet you spat the word Hume with as much hate as any other Dákun Daju. That suggests Humes did not raise you. Therefore, you are a liar.”
“So what?” Godilai clenched her fists.
“So I suggest you tell me what you were really up to before I notify the Knights.”
“Silence, girl,” came Dimitri’s voice. Godilai was immensely grateful for his appearance.
He stepped from the shadows of the building Godilai had been headed for. Zhealocera moved her fiery gaze to his face as Godilai bowed to him.
“Forgive me for not returning in time, My Lord. I was delayed at meeting this young sister of mine.”
Dimitri quirked an eyebrow at Godilai’s greeting, then looked at the girl he had ordered to be silent.
“Ah! You found another Dákun Daju.” He feigned his enthusiasm well. “I did not know there were any residing within the Temple. What do I call you?”
“I am Zhealocera.”
“Truly a pleasure.” Dimitri smiled. He turned his attention back to Godilai. She read his eyes; he was
annoyed. “Come, Godilai, I need your wisdom to help me solve a problem.”
“As you wish, My Lord.” She bowed again and prepared to follow him.
He smiled at the girl, “Good night, Zhealocera.”
“Good night, Prince Valaskjalf.” Zhealocera turned on her heel and walked briskly away.
Godilai glared at the girl’s retreating form.
“What was that all about?” Dimitri asked, his voice barely a breath above a whisper.
Godilai was impressed that this Hume-aju knew the secret techniques even full-blooded Dákun Daju have trouble mastering. She would never admit that to him. “The girl saw me jump off the roof and fired questions at me until you showed up. She is a smart one; did not believe a single word I said.”
He sighed, looked sidelong at her. “Is she a threat to our mission?”
“Probably not, but I would be wary should she report this night to her superiors.”
“Should we persuade her to join us?” She detected the skepticism in his tone. “Another Dákun Daju on our side couldn’t hurt, could it?”
Godilai shook her head. “Do not invite her, Dimitri. I do not trust her.”
Their conversation lapsed into silence. Eventually, and as if one mind, the duo turned to walk into the building that housed their sleeping quarters. Godilai found herself impressed with Dimitri once again when she learned that she could not hear his footfalls.
Outside the door that served as the false prince’s room, Dimitri spoke. “So, were you able to find the diary?”
Godilai faced him. “It was not there.”
“What?”
“I looked twice. The books jumped in order from 112 to 114. I am guessing someone beat us to it.”
“Are you absolutely sure?”
Dimitri’s scowl deepened as she nodded.
He swore, cupped his chin in his hand as he thought. “I need that diary.”
“Use your influence as high prince to see if you are able to find out who checked it out. I shall steal it from them during the festival tomorrow.”
Dimitri was quiet for a while. Finally, he said, “That might raise too many questions, but I will try.”
“If all else fails, you could always force that person to hand the book over.”
When I was a child, I so badly wanted to become an artist. My mother, a very religious woman, however, said that being an artist was no help to my community. So I was forced to join the Temple. It is not a bad life, being a Monk; it’s just not the life I wanted.
– FROM “CONVERSATIONS WITH AMOREZ" BY DJURDAK ZA’CAR
I could not find the peace to sleep. I did not want to. There was too much on my mind. So I stood at the window of my room, staring out as the light of the suns slowly started to shift the sky towards blue. The past few days had been a maelstrom of activity and confusing puzzles. Freya, Judge Zamora, the Palavant… they were all familiar to me. I even recognized the high prince – or the man claiming to be him at least. Why did I know them? What part did they play in my past?
Gods! I wish I could remember something!
And then there was the riddle passed to me by a phoenix in my dreams. Upon thinking of it, I looked away from the horizon to locate the desk. Though I could barely see in the dim, I knew that resting on the surface was the piece of parchment with Ríhan’s blue ink. I had already committed the words to memory. Still I pondered the meaning of its warning.
Even more curious was the book I had laid beside the parchment. I had unlaced the leather to gaze at the pages within. I still could not read the writing, but the various sketches within were intriguing enough to occupy my mind. There were images of landscapes, diagrams of creatures, and portraits of people; all of which whispered of familiarity. Again I wondered if this… this… diary – What other word would describe it? – was mine.
The bells tolled.
How long have I been standing here? I wondered and looked out the window again. The suns had risen to paint the sky with a medley of color. It would be a beautiful day; perfect for the Festival of the Phoenix. I looked to the square below, where row upon row of wooden stalls or gazebos had been set up for the various vendors. A few people were already up, putting the finishing touches on their displays before the throngs of visitors would come to the island to pay homage to Zahadu-Kitai, the Goddess of Spring. While they would come to beg Her for good fortune in the months to come, I would ask Her for answers.
Activity in the square was growing. I had better hurry if I want to get to the altar before it is full. I thought, turning away from the window. I quickly cleaned up, changed into a festive tunic and black slacks. I donned my leather satchel and placed both the book and the riddle within. Then I left my room.
The hallway was silent. I expected that. Being a holiday, almost everyone would be sleeping in. That meant that only the Knights would be wandering the halls on their patrols. I doubted they would stop me on my way to pray to the Goddess. One floor down, I passed two Knights, both of which wished me a blessed new year. I returned their greetings. Another floor down, no one. On the main floor was a surprise. The moment I stepped of the landing, Prince Valaskjalf strode past me. I caught his gaze when he glanced back at me, and I could have sworn his eyes were crimson. I did not stick around to find out why he was up so early and wandering around without an escort. That man creeped me out enough as it was; I did not need to be around watching his every suspicious move.
Outside in the yard, things were much different. It was a flurry of activity as the final preparations were being made. Decorations were going up. A band was gathered on the main stage, testing their instruments for a long day of playing. Candied rolls and spiced meats were being set to bake or broil in the fire pits. Their sweet and spicy smell made my mouth water. Breakfast would have to wait though. I needed my answers, and I had finally worked up the courage to visit the altar. No sense in delaying further.
I turned left, meandering my way around stall after stall. Many venders greeted me and I bade them good morning in return. Once passed all of the stalls, I could see the pyramid that was the Sanctuary of the Goddess of Fire. I admired the red and gold glass orbs sitting atop the pillars that lined the walkway to the portcullis. The enormous doors had been propped open, inviting visitors in to pray to the Goddess.
At the threshold, I paused. This is it, I told myself, No turning back. I took a deep breath and stepped through. I was greeted with an unlit corridor wide enough for two chariots to run abreast. A moment to let my vision adjust to the dimness and deeper into the pyramid I went. My footfalls echoed off the marble. The tangy scent of incense assaulted my nose. The air grew hot. After what felt like ages, the hallway spilled out to a large, circular room. A stone walkway, that doubled as seating during a large assemblage ran the diameter of the room and spiraled downward towards the altar. At the very center, amidst a ring of raging fire, was an enormous statue carved centuries ago from a single ruby. It depicted a bird rising from fire, with wings aloft and head facing forward as if to look at everyone who entered.
I could almost feel the Goddess watching me as I moved towards Her statue. I stopped a few meters away from the inferno ring, dropped to my knees. There, under the visage of the Goddess of Fire, I closed my eyes and prayed.
◆◆◆
I sighed and opened my eyes. The world had gone pitch black. I rose to my feet and looked around but could not make out any shapes in the darkness. Reaching out, I felt nothing. No walls. No floor. Just dead air. It was as if the world had fallen away and left me in a void.
“Hello?” My call echoed over and over. The dead air seemed to move. “Is anyone there?”
“Ake it ja bemu ne meo?”
A spectral whisper reached my ears. My breath caught. I knew that voice; it haunted my dreams.
“Are you Zahadu-Kitai?”
My voice echoing back was my only answer.
The air moved again. Crimson light suddenly exploded, scattering the darkness and blinding me. I cove
red my eyes until I could face the brightness. Floating within the aura of light was a beautiful bird. She was smaller than I imagined, and could easily perch upon my arm. Her tail was twice as long as her body with shades of blue that matched her eyes. Her wings shimmered with a rainbow of colors before the feathers turned into flames. She was a phoenix.
She had come!
I bowed to her.
“Ake it ja bemu ne meo?” the voice repeated and I could not help but notice that the mouth of the phoenix never moved.
“Forgive me, Daughter of Fire, I do not speak those words,” I spoke softly, feeling guilty that I could not speak to Her in the Nature Tongue.
Her azure eyes studied me with an ancient knowledge. “You have forgotten much, child. Why do you call to me?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I know you are busy, Zahadu-Kitai, but I beg for your guidance.”
“And what is it that you seek?”
I thought it over for a moment. Face to face with the Goddess of Fire, I was totally lost at what to say and there were so many things I yearned to ask Her.
“How about we start with the warning I have been sending you in your dreams.”
“That was really you?”
The phoenix seemed to laugh. “Yes, child, it was me.”
I felt honored that Zahadu-Kitai Herself had taken the time to send me a message that, until recently, was entirely cryptic. I was immensely grateful that Ríhan was able to translate it. “You spoke of dark deeds beginning soon and a girl with light. And then the twelve? What did you mean?”
“Tragedy will soon strike. You will begin to realize who you are then.”
I mulled her words over in my head. Tragedy? That must be the dark deeds She had mentioned. But… what about the girl with the light? Who was she – or… who will she be?
“A good question,” said the phoenix, and I was stunned. She could read my mind! “But what about that bizarre book in your possession? I would think you more curious about that.”
“What about it?”
Ascension Page 8
