His eyes became wet. He took her shoulders in his hands.
“Are you really that concerned about me?”
“Of course I am, Ed. I love you.”
“And I love you.” He ran one hand through hair. “Please. What can I do? The High Emperor made me promise I would not leave the palace. I’m the only one who can tutor the gardeners on raising Orpus trees.”
“The Saale Emperor can manage for a week or two if it saves your life,” Chelka said. “I’ve read about protean spheres, Ed. If this one is as far into its growth as I think, it could kill you in less than a month.”
Edmath gulped.
“So soon.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and spoke into his ear.
“Talk to the High Emperor tonight. Rumor has it your adopted mother knows him.”
“She got us into the palace the first day were here.” Edmath’s eyes widened. “Perhaps he will listen to her?”
“Perhaps he will listen to you? Ed, you seemed so happy. I didn’t know how to tell you how afraid I was. But I am. I’m afraid.”
“Dear Chelka, thank you. I don’t want to die. I want to live with you.”
She bowed her head against him and pressed herself into his embrace. The sunlight dappled the floor of the chamber as the last rays sank beneath the hills to the west. She stepped back from him.
“Go find your mother. I will get Brosk. Can Orpus Lengbyoi carry us all?”
“We’ll need a carriage for a journey this long.”
“Brosk will know where to get one.” Chelka smiled through the traces of her tears. “He always does.”
Edmath reached out and brushed a finger down her cheek. He nodded to her and then turned. “I will see you after I meet with the High Emperor.”
He strode off through the gathering darkness, toward the castle gates. Lengbyoi had returned to the gardens as he had asked. That was good. Edmath felt strong enough at that moment to take on Ursar Kiet one more time at the Stone of Zel. He left through the gates and headed to the hostel to ask his mother for help.
Edmath found Sampheli Mierzon in the dimly lit parlor of the hostel. She set aside her needlework when he stepped into the lantern-lit room where a single long table ran almost from one wall to the other. Sampheli folded her hands.
“My son, what is the matter?”
“Mother, can you help me gain an audience with the High Emperor tonight?”
“Edmath, why do you need to speak to his Grace so suddenly?”
“I’ll tell you as we go, mother. Please.”
“Alright, son. Though you worry me with your rushing about.” Sampheli rose from her seat. “Do you have an animal or a carriage?”
“No.” Edmath’s sweat felt hot on his brow. “But speed would be useful.”
“We will ride one of the greater serpents from our garden. It will not throw me, but you will have to hold on tight.”
Edmath bowed his head, grateful, but with a roiling at the back of his mind. Am I thinking this through enough? He raised his head. Sampheli smiled as she opened the gate to the hostel’s garden.
“You will have to hang on to the saddle. Don’t get lost.”
As they rode the writhing serpent through the darkening streets of Diar, Edmath quickly found out she was right. He gripped the saddle’s rear strap. His bare hands rubbed raw against the rough ropes even as the first sprinkling of new rain chilled him through his tunic. He thought of Chelka and his stomach felt sick with hope. He held on.
The inner palace was dark except for flickering lanterns along the bridges when Edmath and Sampheli arrived at the entryway to the first domed building leading inside. Enchiel guardians squawked and called in the rain-drummed darkness within the walls. His hands shook with a chill as he climbed from the serpent’s back.
Sampheli turned to the snake.
“Stay,” she said in the serpent language, “I will have need of you soon.”
The snake slithered into the grass, leaving hissed words behind.
“Yes, priestess.”
Edmath glanced at his adoptive mother. Droplets of water fell from her bundled hair and sparkled in the lamplight. She nodded to him. They turned and walked up to the gate that led to the inner gardens. A silhouette appeared on the bridge, dark, but with feathered wings spread. Edmath squinted as he tried to see if the shape belonged to the High Emperor, an Enchieli, or someone else. The disappeared from view before he could determine to whom it belonged.
He and Sampheli stepped under the eaves, out of the rain. She did not hesitate but marched up to the doors under the domed roof. They opened before her. The voice of the High Emperor spoke through the falling rain.
“Enter, Sampheli. I am not blind to anything in Zel tonight.”
Edmath gulped. He rubbed his wet and raw hands together, but barely registered the pain. Sampheli motioned for him to take the lead.
The two of them crossed the threshold where rain dripped from the eaves. Some lanterns sputtered. Others went out completely. Edmath and Sampheli reached the other side of the bridge and stopped beneath the next dome of the palace.
Edmath looked for the next bridge to go further into the palace.
Sampheli put a hand on his shoulder.
“Wait, son. His grace is near.”
“How can you tell?”
“I hear the sphere’s voice.”
The voice of the High Emperor spoke once again from empty air.
“You always were skilled in the ways of the spheres, Sampheli. Tell me. Why have come here tonight?”
Soft footfalls accompanied the voice. As the words died in the air, the High Emperor stepped into the room from one of the adjoining bridges that toward the pyramid. He was followed by the high, floating form of the Sphere of Humanity.
The sphere swirled with deep green and brown as well as traces of lighter hues. The sphere, easily twelve feet across, followed the High Emperor as he approached Edmath and Sampheli. Edmath bowed his head. Sampheli did the same but quickly returned to her normal height.
“Vosraan,” she said, “my son wishes to speak with you.”
“As helpful as he has been, I am not interested in your son at the moment, Sampheli.” The wings of the Crown of Three folded and hid the High Emperor’s face. “Take him from here. If you wish to speak to me, return alone.”
Edmath’s stomach churned. A stabbing pain punched from within his stomach. He gritted his teeth and glared at the High Emperor.
“Please,” he said, “I am dying.”
“What of it?” said the High Emperor. “I know your ailment, Lord Benisar. If Kassel Onoi returns to Diar alive, I will have him help you. Until then, leave my presence and do not ask for my permission.”
“Fine.” The sound of Edmath’s snarled word surprised even himself. “I will go. And I will find Onoi myself if I must.”
“If you leave this city, the Saale Emperor may release you from his service.”
“I respect Haddishal Rumenha’s decision on that matter. With all due respect, your Grace, I choose to fight for my own life.”
Edmath put a hand on Sampheli’s shoulder. She nodded to him, and he turned and walked back across the bridge toward the outer gardens. His mother followed him.
Chelka
Chelka watched at the window as lights flickered in the rain, crossing the gardens below. The lights marked a ceremonial procession in for the last night of autumn. There would already be snow in the far south, at Beliu on Dreamwater. She clutched her striker-ringed hand to her heart and prayed Edmath would receive the help he requested from the High Emperor.
Footsteps in the hall behind her made her turn. She hoped to see Edmath standing in her doorway. Instead, she met the dark eyes of Oresso Nane. The Coral Prince bowed to her.
“Lady Benisar.”
“Lord Nane.”
“I wished to see you.”
“You can see me now.”
“That wasn’t all. In the garden we—”
“You,” Chelka said. “You kissed me, in breach of propriety I might add.”
Oresso’s face darkened like the clouds outside.
“Chelka, what is the meaning of this?”
“The meaning is that I have a husband, and he is ill but I refuse to abandon him.”
Oresso took a step into the room, jaw slack, but one hand clenched into a fist.
Chelka shook her head.
“Go back to your chambers, Oresso. Don’t embarrass yourself any more by carrying on.”
Oresso’s lip trembled in the dim light of the lamps around the room. He strode toward Chelka. She barely moved but formed the sign of breath with the hand over her heart.
“Do not press this issue.”
He drew close to her. Chelka struck the air with her ringed fingers. Magic issued from the tiny tear. Oresso towered over her, face a mass of shadows.
“Do not mock me,” he said. “You know Edmath will die before spring comes.”
“No,” whispered Chelka. “No, he won’t.”
Oresso reached toward her with one hand. She channeled the small magic from her tear into pure breath. Her powers amplified the force and a gust of wind rattled the room. Oresso took the brunt of the force and tumbled to the floor. He climbed to one knee.
Chelka shook her head.
“Go away, Oresso. I need to focus on saving my husband’s life.”
“You’ve made a mistake.” Oresso stood. He turned and strode from the room.
Chelka turned back to the window and spotted the shape of Orpus Lengbyoi moving dark across the gardens to the palace. In the tree’s branches, she glimpsed the form of Edmath, a shape she knew well in darkness. He raced toward the High Castle’s gate. Chelka went to meet him.
Edmath descended Orpus Lengbyoi’s branches and then dropped to the ground before the closed gate. Rain dripped from his hair and rega. Drops of water speckled his glasses. After his walk to the Saale Palace and return to the Castle in Lengbyoi’s branches he knew his trousers were muddy as well. He knocked at the gate’s small door.
Instead of the usual sentry asking his business, Chelka opened the door immediately. Her eyes shone with new light. She threw her arms around his neck, heedless of his wet clothes.
“Ed, what did he say?”
“His grace did not give me permission, but Emperor Rumenha was more amenable.”
“The Saale Emperor will let you go?”
“He will hold my position for me for three weeks.”
“So little time.”
“It will be enough to make our way south to Beliu.” He smiled despite the chill and the wet. “I still have hope.” Pain, like the pain he had felt in the High Emperor’s chambers, stabbed at Edmath’s side like viper’s fang. But this fang struck from inside. He flinched and staggered away from Chelka. He planted his palm against the Lengbyoi’s trunk.
She followed him to the tree’s side.
“What’s wrong, Ed?”
“That sphere must be ready to mature.”
More pain, red and razor sharp in his stomach. He gasped.
“How much time do we have?” Chelka asked.
“I don’t know. We must leave tonight.”
“Ed, you need to lay down. Come inside.” She motioned to the small door in the gate.
He nodded and staggered toward the door. His hands pressed onto the reinforced panels. Then the pain struck again.
White agony exploded in his belly, drowning all his other senses. Edmath slipped and sank to his knees. His hands slid down the panels of the doorway.
Chelka raced to his side.
“Ed, hang on. Ed, please.”
“It hurts.” Tears ran from his eyes. “It hurts too much.” His own voice sounded far away. Everything faded completely, replaced by scratching pain from within.
Edmath awakened to the sound of rain striking the roof overhead. He felt empty, and his stomach throbbed with pain. His throat ran dry. He lay on Chelka’s bed in the High Castle. The dark sky out the window rolled with open and raining clouds.
“Chelka?” he said, looking through the shadows to see a single candle on the bedside table. In a chair beside the bed, Chelka sat reading a scroll with a frown on her face. There were still tear tracks down her cheeks. “How long was I out?”
“Ed, you’re awake.” Chelka rolled up the scroll, sniffed, and stood up. “I was worried you were—It’s only been an hour.”
A hole might have formed in Edmath’s stomach and the pain had nothing to do with hunger. He gasped for air and sat up quickly, lurching through layers of heavy blankets. The sphere was eating him from within.
“No, no, no.” He coughed and looked down at his hands. His palms were pale as dry parchment. “I cannot die like this.”
Chelka slipped onto the bed, her bare feet moving over the covers and her hands finding Edmath’s even in the darkness.
“I just reread my statement to Oresso Nane. He’s the only other War Saale left in the city.” She held her hands to her chest. I told him, we are leaving.”
“Oresso.” Edmath coughed again and pulled a hand away from Chelka. “I’m sorry for being upset earlier. I know you’re doing your best, of course.” He hoped he still had time. With a grunt of effort, he threw off his covers and slipped his legs off the side of the bed so his feet landed on the floor. “Please, help me stand up.”
Chelka crawled across the bed and climbed down beside him. She helped him to his feet and he leaned on her.
“Do you remember our plan?” Chelka wrapped her fingers around his shoulder.
“We need Orpus Lengbyoi,” Edmath managed. “If Onoi is at Dreamwater than I will have to see him. We must leave tonight.”
Chelka’s grip tightened so much her fingers dug painfully into Edmath’s shoulder. He touched her hand gently, and she loosened her fingers. She supported Edmath as they walked to the wardrobe. Edmath leaned against the wooden drawers as she helped him change into a spare set of black trousers and a red tunic. Finally, she picked up his rega from the dusty top of the dresser and slung it over his shoulder.
She wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Let’s go. Brosk has a cart to keep us out of the rain, and besides, he wants to go with us.”
Edmath knew what she meant. Ever since they had first met a Beliu villager, the boy Yot, the Whale Prince had wanted to avenge that which was lost to the monsters. At Dreamwater, any number of things could happen and he could not guess whether he would return or not. Chelka helped Edmath to the door and down the steps. Pain lanced from his stomach with every movement. He winced each time but refused to cry or scream.
As they made their way out into the gardens, Edmath knew that even if they left now he might never return. Kassel Onoi was no friend, no matter what he had said about Edmath’s father. What he could give them, the chance at life was likely not something he would do freely.
He would fade away if the attempt to find Onoi failed. No other power existed to save him. At the Great Hearth, Chelka left Edmath outside and went in to find Brosk. Edmath sat on the steps, dazed and just barely out of the rain, though already dripping wet from the walk through the gardens. As he sat there, shivering, a voice came to him over the noise of the storm.
“Edmath, you’re alright. I feared the worst for you.” Orpus Lengbyoi’s silent crawl through the earth to the foot of the steps had been masked by the movement of the other plants blowing this way and that in the wind. His branches creaked and his roots waved in the wind.
“Yes, my good Lengbyoi. I do not know how long, though.”
The tree lifted its fore-roots and crawled closer.
“Really? Edmath, you are not going to die.”
Edmath touched the tip of Orpus Lengbyoi’s root with the end of his index finger and reclined on the steps.
“Not if you help me.” Edmath wheezed and held his dry mouth open as if to catch falling raindrops to quench his thirst. “There will be more like you. They are growing in these v
ery gardens. Please, I want you to pull a carriage to a village south of here. It will likely be a few days of journey.”
The tree tipped itself forward as if bowing, roots sinking into the ground to give it a slant.
“I will do whatever I can, Edmath. You are my friend, even if I can’t protect you.”
Over the sound of the rain, Edmath heard Chelka and Brosk come out of the gate behind him. Orpus Lengbyoi righted itself. Brosk helped Edmath to his feet with a grunt of exertion.
“Come on, Ed, my cart is in a stable on the other side of the palace.
Edmath nodded, raindrops falling through his hair and glistening on his glasses.
“Thanks, my friend.”
Chelka walked past them and put a hand on Orpus Lengbyoi’s trunk.
“I don’t think its safe to ride in your branches at the moment, but follow us, we will need you.”
She turned and headed off toward the stable Brosk had indicated. He and Edmath followed her with Orpus Lengbyoi taking up the rear.
Thunder rolled as Brosk took a seat at the front of the carriage behind the ropes they had tied to Orpus Lengbyoi’s trunk. Edmath and Chelka settled in the back, under the low, woven roof. The group set off for the gate, following only the widest paths. Orpus Lengbyoi moved with what felt like more speed to Edmath. Perhaps the lurching and shaking of the cart only made it seem that way. Over the roar of the wind, Edmath heard Brosk talking to Orpus Lengbyoi.
“Remember not to go over anything too steep. The cart can’t handle it. That’s it. I’ll be right back.” Brosk turned and slipped back into the cart proper, his long traveling coat wet with wind-blown rain. He peered at the back of the cart where Edmath and Chelka sat, side-by-side. “Alright, Ed, Chelka told me the plan. I’ve been working on a healing spell that we may find useful.” Brosk glanced over his shoulder at the tree pulling them toward the gate. “Right, it is a pretty complicated hand-sign, and it takes a little bit of magic, but it should suppress the creature inside you so you don’t feel too much pain for a while.”
“Amazing, Brosk.” Edmath’s eyelids fluttered as he spoke. “I might need it soon.”
Spells of the Curtain Volume One Page 29
