by Kyrja
“But why did he poison you?” Kraas asked the question yet again.
“Unless you are a god, you must be dead to get inside of the circle of Jikangai. He took my life from me so that the Fire Tender he took with him would appear dead. He is using her magic to fuel his efforts to stop the tortoise. If he is successful, Giya will die.”
“You said only a god can enter Jikangai without being dead, but gods cannot leave unless they are dead?” Zaria asked, confused.
“Your people, all people,” Borja corrected herself, “worshipped Lumas and held her in high esteem, but none of you knew her. She is a vile trickster beyond what you can even imagine.”
“How can he have a Fire Tender with him?” Zaria asked, irritated. “We were all transformed into healers when Denit became the Sun Goddess.”
Clicking her tongue, Borja answered, “He took her before Denit transformed, of course,” her disdain for the question obvious.
“If the tortoise cannot be stopped, then Giya will be trapped, but if the tortoise is stopped, then Giya will die,” is that what you’re saying?” Sakari felt her rage rising.
“Worse than that, time moves faster there, so while she is trapped, the Earth Goddess will decay because she will be shut off from the rest of the planet, which is where she draws her strength from,” Borja replied.
“But Zaria brought you back!” Kraas shouted, her eyes glowing with excitement. “What if all of the healers from Nohoyo went to this … this … turtle place … and helped her to reform like you just did?”
“The tortoise would have to be stopped and Giya would have to die,” Zaria pointed out. “Borja just told us there’s no way to stop the tortoise.”
Sakari looked Borja in the eyes. “She lied,” she announced with conviction. “Tell us.”
Borja smirked, then said, “The only way to stop the tortoise is to replace her with a direct descendant of the second daughter, Binti.”
“The Emperor?” Kraas suggested. “Or – wait! His daughter! Rhian?”
“The man who is the Emperor of Bila now is the last of her line,” Borja confirmed. “His daughter, Rhian, is not of his blood, although he doesn’t know it. Your friend, the Tadashi Child,” she said, looking directly at Sakari, “is of Kweli’s line, the niece who Binti failed to kill.”
“Kaya?” Sakari couldn’t believe her ears. The ancient blood feud between the lines of the first empress’ children was still in full bloom. Kaya was determined to help Rhian to replace her father, the Emperor, on the throne.
“How do we know you’re telling the truth about any of this?” Kraas demanded.
“And why did you say there was no way to stop the tortoise when there is a way?” Sakari pressed.
“Because you will never be able to solve the mystery of how to replace Deiserin with Emperor Eazim. If you can even get him there, and if he isn’t already dead.” And with those words, Borja vanished.
Chapter Thirteen – P’onyem Returns
The moon was almost full and Chared felt at peace for the first time in a long time. He didn’t have all the answers to all of his questions, but he had been witness to something extraordinary tonight, and he was pleased. His sister, Drena was alive, and while that was an extraordinary thing in and of itself, Jarles now had his parents back in his life. He shook his head, looking out over the city; the smile on his face felt good. So very good. Where they would go, where they would live – all of those questions would find answers in due time. Perhaps even before the sun rose in the morning. For now, he would be content to just stand here, watching the moon as it followed its track to the west. Another night or two and Raito would be full.
Raito. Meaning “Light.” His sister had given him the name when he had taken Lumas’ place in the skies above their world as their moon. He used to be known as Serat Caeli, twin brother to the Goddess of Air, Siri Ventus. Chared knew he should probably visit Siri before he left the City by the Sea as a simple courtesy; she would see it as her due as a deity in residence here. Chared shook his head, his smile returning to warm him, aware his thoughts seemed to be lingering on family connections tonight.
He had come up here, to the roof of the Temple of Light in order to give Jarles and his family time alone, and to clear his own mind. He had been drawn to the city because he’d felt that something was “out of time,” as he’d told Oculis, and he’d been right. Drena and Jonath had been dead for a long time. He couldn’t help but to wonder how their return challenged any number of theologies and if, indeed, their souls had already been reborn into another lifetime, then did they possess souls now? He was sure he would chew on the bone of thought this puzzle presented him for some time to come.
He wondered, too, what had made him come to this particular spot, other than he’d wanted to get some fresh air and he’d known he would be able to see the moon from here, as it hung over the sea. Still, he could have seen it from the roof of the Blue Dolphin Temple. The two were connected underground through a maze of rooms and tunnels; he knew them all well from his years here as a Merlarn. That seemed so long ago now. He remembered being crushed with disbelief when he’d tried to return after his mother had woken him up from his twenty-year slumber as the “Chained Man.” That too, seemed so distant as to have been in another lifetime.
His mother. He hadn’t thought of her in some time. He wondered what P’onyem would think of him now, and if she would be pleased. He hung his head then, ashamed of the fact that she wasn’t here because he had been the one who had ended her life. He’d been a mad man then, truly. Obsessed with the need to have Amphedia recognize him as the father of her heir. And to atone for having failed her in so many ways.
Like Drena and Jonath, he too, was from a different time; he’d lost twenty years chained to that stone. Lost. There was no time, no thought, and nothing to sustain him, and yet … he had lived. And now, for the first time in his life, he felt … sound. Sound of mind and body and ready to live his life as he’d never done before. Free of the influence of any patron, god, or obligation. It was time to decide where he would go and what he would do.
Giya needs you. You must help her.
He felt the hair rise on the back of his neck and on his arms. He’d heard the words clearly. In his mother’s voice. He turned his head to look quickly behind him, then turned the rest of his body around much more slowly to face the vision of his mother he found standing there. She wasn’t solid, as if she, too, had returned to life, nor was she transparent, as though she was some kind of specter or spirit. Instead, it seemed as though she was outlined in sand. Much as she’d been the last time he’d seen her alive, before her body had disintegrated into a flowing stream of sand, pouring itself through a crack in the stone floor.
His heart ached to see her. Every part of him wanted to throw himself at her feet to beg forgiveness, to offer his life in return for hers. He felt an overwhelming need to set things right.
You must help her.
His mother’s voice sounded in his mind again, even though her lips in the vision in front of him hadn’t moved.
“I told you,” he heard another voice to his right, from near the doorway he’d used to get to the roof. It was a female’s voice. Young. Not alone. Probably with a young man, seeking a secluded place to do the things young people did when they were alone in the dark.
“No!” he begged when he turned back to the vision of his mother, only to find her gone. Please come back, he thought, knowing his plea was futile. He wanted so badly to feel angry with those who had interrupted this amazing moment, and he did, he supposed, but his mother had delivered her message. There was nothing more she would have said, he was sure. That didn’t lessen the ache in his heart though. Nothing would ever bring back all the time he’d missed with his mother. He almost chuckled then. Time. Jarles had better learn very quickly to enjoy the fact that his parents had been returned to him.
“Who’s there?” he called out. “Come where I can see you.”
To his surpr
ise, High Priestess Khashya stepped forward with two young women slightly behind her. The priestess, he knew, was the city’s Record Keeper and wasn’t likely to be found on the roof late at night. And she was limping.
“Are you injured?” he asked automatically. “Do you need help?”
“No,” she replied quickly. “I only need a moment of your time … Chared.”
“You know who I am?” he was surprised. In the dark, wearing his cloak against the chill, he could have been any number of people. She had come seeking him then.
“We know who you are,” one of the young women beside the priestess spoke. “But you should know who we are.” She held out her hand and in it, she held a ball of light. No candle or other implement was in her hand. The light came from her hand.
“Are you from Bila then?” he asked, wondering if someone had sent them.
“No,” the woman answered. “We are two of your children. I am Baya and this is Aku.”
Chared was stunned into silence. He had rarely given though to his offspring, and when he had, he assumed any children he may have created were well taken care of. He’d never thought to seek them out; it just wasn’t done.
The smaller of the two young women – his daughters! – spoke then. “You’ve seen the vision. You must come.”
An explosion of emotions detonated within him. It was too much to take in. He felt strangely detached, as if this was happening to someone else. He just stood there, staring at the three women, with no idea whatsoever how to even begin to frame any questions he might ask. He was truly stunned into silence.
“You saw it? Saw her?” he corrected.
“You’ve seen the vision,” the younger one told him. “That’s all that matters.”
“Aku has seen the vision many times. We were just waiting for you to see it,” the other one said, whatever her name was, he couldn’t remember for the life of him.
“I know this is difficult Chared …” the High Priestess was saying.
“Difficult!” he shouted. “This is impossible!”
“As impossible as surviving for more than twenty years chained to a rock?” the unnamed one threw back at him, but not unkindly.
“You know nothing about that!” he shot back.
“We’ve been rounded up and confined to one section of the city because you are our father. Do you even know how many children you have, or grandchildren? The rest of us didn’t lay there, doing nothing while you were on that rock. We had lives. And now they’ve been taken away because … “ she faltered then, her rage still largely unspent, he knew.
“Because …” he prompted, genuinely curious now. “Tell me. I know you want to.”
“Because Amphedia commanded me to, that’s why!” the priestess blurted out, her lips pressed together, her hands curled into fists. “I had no choice, but now I do, so I’ve brought Baya and Aku to talk to you before they are slaughtered out of hand because the Storm Goddess wants you to suffer.” She put her face into her hands then, shaking her head. Despite her obvious efforts not to, she was crying. Despite his own roiling emotions, Chared was touched to see the other two put their hands on her to offer her comfort.
He just stood there, shaking his head. “I’m sorry for the fact that you have suffered,” he said, holding out his hands to them, “but I don’t understand how Amphedia killing people I don’t even know would cause me to suffer. Surely there is more to this than what you’re telling me,” he insisted, trying desperately to shift through all the information they’d given him, more they had implied, and even more, he was sure, they hadn’t yet revealed.
“When the Sea Goddess tells you to do a thing, you do it, or you suffer,” Khashya told him, dabbing the back of her hand against her nose, trying desperately not to sniffle.
“Even when she lies to you about her motives,” Chared sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I am at a loss to know how to help.”
“Your mother,” Aku told him, as if that answered his question.
“She means that your mother has already told you what you must do. Help Giya,” Baya told him.
“Nobody even knows where Giya is,” he protested.
“Aku does,” Baya said, with the unmistakable sound of smugness.
“And I’m just supposed to take your word for … “ he paused, shrugging, then spread his hands, saying, “all this?”
“Chared,” the priestess walked closer to put a hand on his arm, “I have kept track of all of your children for a long time. Many of them have … gifts … gifts of magic. Amphedia is threatened by that fact. The rest of the world thinks she is dead, or gone, after her fight with Sov. I have helped them to keep their secret as best as I could, but now …” she paused, sighing. “Now Amphedia is getting stronger again and she will kill them, whether you know who they are or not. I have tried to persuade her to leave them alone. To hide their gifts. The leader of those who attacked you tonight was one of your sons. Sharun. He’s not the only one of your children who want you dead for the fact that you are their father. You aren’t safe here.”
“Tell him,” Baya said, her voice hard.
Khashya sighed again, then looked Chared in the eye. “Amphedia killed my son because I wouldn’t do what she wanted me to do several years ago. Then my husband had a terrible accident that left him paralyzed.”
“Then why are you here? Shouldn’t you be protecting your family?” Chared didn’t know whether to be awed, or angry that this woman had lost so much and was risking even more by helping his … his … children.
“I’ve sent them away. All I can do is hope they are far enough away that she won’t bother,” she told him, shaking her head again. “I’m terrified, but I can’t let all these people die. I just can’t.”
“And how will helping Giya stop all of this? Will it make Amphedia leave … everyone … “ he stuttered, still in shock at the thought that he had children – and grandchildren! – not to mention they were in danger, “alone? Will helping Giya allow them to go back to their lives? What does Giya have to do with any of this?”
To his great surprise, both Khashya and Baya looked to Aku to answer him. It took a long moment for her to reply. Long enough that he thought she might not, but the other two women seemed willing to wait. Nor did she look up when she spoke. Instead, she looked at the ground, as if she found something fascinating there.
“Some will die if you come, but all will die if you refuse. The rooster is not the one who controls time. Your father’s blood is the key.” And then she had nothing more to say. She didn’t move, and she didn’t look up, although it looked like she was breathing more rapidly than she had been before she spoke. She made no move at all to indicate she was done, but both of the other women looked up at him at the same time, as if waiting for his answer.
“My father? His blood?” Chared asked, more confused than ever, letting his frustration show in his voice. “I don’t even know who my father is!”
Suddenly Aku looked up at him, her clear gaze locking onto his eyes. Even though it was dark, he saw her eyes clearly. He’d seen the look in her eyes before – in the eyes of his fellow Merlarn when he’d been a priest of the Blue Dolphin Order. When he’d been convinced he was insane. It made his blood run cold in his veins.
“P’onyem will return in two days at dawn. She will take us there.” As she abruptly turned and walked away, Baya nodded at Khashya to follow her, indicating she would be staying.
Chared waited, patiently, thoughts swirling through his mind, wondering what else this daughter of his was going to reveal. It was all a bit much to comprehend, and yet he had seen a vision of his mother.
“Not all of us have magic,” Baya told him, her chin held high. “I do, and so does Aku, but they’re nothing alike. Sharun, as you’ve seen, can create fire. We’re all different, but we’ve all hidden our magic because we were afraid. Now Amphedia wants us dead, when she is the one who should be dead. I don’t want this to be happening any more than you do, but Aku wasn�
�t lying or making things up. She has a very hard time talking because the visions overwhelm her. You should always listen to her,” she paused. “If you’re coming with us, that is. She’s never wrong. Never.” She shrugged then. “That’s all I wanted to tell you. I just don’t want you to think she’s crazy or making things up.” She shrugged again, then stood still. Her need to leave was palpable, Chared could feel it from where he was standing.
“Thank you,” he told her, bowing his head to her. He had so many questions, and no way to ask them without feeling like he would make her feel uncomfortable. When she turned to leave, he called out to her, “Wait!” She didn’t turn back around, but she stopped walking away. “Where am I supposed to go?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, turning around.
“If I go with you, when … when my mother comes back in two days. How will I know where to meet you?”
“I don’t know,” she told him with a grin that he thought made her look as if she knew something humorous that he didn’t. “But Aku says you will be there.” She smiled again, and left him standing in the shadows cast by the nearly full moon.
* * * * * * * *
“Why are you here, of all places?” Oculis asked, not moving from where he’d been standing since Nieva had left him. When he’d felt her arrival, he had stiffened, and then he had relaxed again. This was the one place where she wasn’t as likely to be able to harm him. No matter if he was in or out of favor with Siri, she wouldn’t tolerate someone else hurting him while he was in her home. No matter what form that “home” took – not even in this comparatively small, very human place. He had every confidence Siri had known the instant this guest arrived.
“Because I know what you want,” Amphedia laughed.
“Do you?” he chuckled, turning away from the view of the moon to address her directly. “The last time we met, in Midbar, you thought you knew what I wanted. You didn’t know then and you don’t know now.”
