by Cassia Meare
Yet it had been a betrayal. It had been the product of low cunning and deception, of nothing noble or good.
But trying to understand or excuse Nemours’ actions didn't help her get Delian and Ty back. She had looked at retracing, but the magic that took her to Otherwhere had been terminated. She had been told never to return.
Except that something had just occurred to her, about something else.
She rushed to the grimoire, lying permanently on the table, and pushed Kent gently away as he tried to settle on the page she had opened. In the chapter about retracing, she read again: "Physical magic can be recovered with the same property, or similar, that manifested it in the first place. This is called sympathy."
Elinor looked at her arm. A clue had been written on it at the monument for Henri II's heart in the Louvre Museum. It had shone there for a moment, until Sefira's hand had obscured it.
What could bring it back?
The same principle or property, or similar. She needed to create a sympathy.
Light? Working her hand, as she had been training to do, she brought a cool blue flame to it and passed it over her arm. Nothing.
A cool flame didn't do it — what about a hot one? Was fire the magic principle, or similar, that engraved the symbols on her arm and showed her the clue? When that happened, it always did hurt like a burn.
She shouldn't think of it long, or she wouldn't do it. Elinor moved to the fireplace, where she found a box of long matches and took one out, striking it and running the flame along her arm.
Yes! There were words on it, but she could hardly make them out — no matter how close to her arm she held the flame.
No help for it. She let the flame touch her arm and fought against the tears jumping out of her eyes as the cuneiform writing of Otherwhere appeared, white against the burning flesh.
Of course it had to be a long sentence, and before she read it all she screamed in agony — but never took her eyes off the words: Less than kings, divided on red stone.
She dropped the box of matches and understood the value of all the curse words she had learned from Delian. She shouted or hissed them all, not daring to touch her flesh, which was already swelling and blistering.
"Tetyen veo nygoret ... Tetyen veo nygoret ..." Heal, heal, she repeated over and over, until the pain abated and the blisters disappeared, leaving only hot-pink flesh. It would get better soon.
More importantly, she had the clue. She had it.
And still the books with their spines turned toward her seemed to be asking: Do you even know where to start?
There was always a place to start. A thread to pull from.
She sat at her place again and pulled the laptop toward her as she thought: Less than kings. Not a king's grave, then. The hekas weren't always with kings — the first had been with St. Thomas. And red stone … If not a palace for kings, what could be built in red stone?
She would have begun writing on the device, but a voice, one that she longed to hear, called from the great hall, "O Lady E?"
"Delian?" she cried, leaping to her feet so fast that her chair went flying to the ground.
Followed by Kent, she ran out of the library, ready to throw herself into her friend's arms, except that he wasn't there, or Ty. In their place, two perfect strangers.
She stopped short and scowled, her hands rising, ready to protect herself.
"Who are you?" she asked.
8
The two strangers were Otherwhere-beautiful.
Both were tall and well made. One had hair the color of true gold and laughing eyes of sapphire. His face was of exquisite perfection, his bottom lip full and curved in a smile.
The other was no less striking, with hair of midnight and skin of moonlight, high cheekbones and glowing black eyes.
She had asked who they were — but the golden-haired man leaned with his elbow on the balustrade, a hand on his waist, as Delian always did. He grinned like Delian, and his eyes, though no longer round, had the look of Delian inside them.
His voice was Delian's.
And the other man had the same intelligent eyes as Ty, the same gentle smile.
"Of course you don't recognize us," the fair man said. "And yet you do. It is us, Lady E, your trusty companions. We were under a spell, that's why we looked like crap." He waved a hand over his body. "This is my actual form. How do you like it?"
Her mouth gaped. "You're truly Delian?"
This time he smirked, and the smirk was decisively Delian's. "In the very flesh."
Lowering her arms, Elinor walked slowly toward them. "And you're Ty?"
Nodding, the dark-haired man let his smile widen. "Yes, Elinor."
"But how? Why?"
"Nemours had the old high priest do the Change heka on us, and ran Oblivion as well, so everyone, including our sisters, would forget us," the fair man explained. "And he couldn’t help making us look like hell, since he wants to be the only god around." He stopped short when he noticed the cat. "Lady E! You weren't meant to keep it! I said—"
And then she knew he really was Delian, and threw herself in his arms.
"It is you. It's you!"
He held her for a long moment, laughing, but let her go and let her embrace Ty.
"I'm so happy," she said. "I fretted so, trying to think of a way to get you out of the dungeons."
Ty shook his head. "We were never in any dungeons."
Elinor looked from one to the other. "Did you mention sisters? Who are your sisters?"
"Sibulla, Ahn, Lamia and Sefira, of course," Delian said. "And Nemours—"
"Is your brother?" Elinor's eyes popped.
"Yes," Delian confirmed, "the older bully."
"Did you not wonder why there was a lack of males in the family?" Ty asked with a twinkle.
"The mosaics, where Ahn showed me your history ... I knew there was magic around the figures of Lamia and Sefira. Something wavering, but I could not tell what it was."
Delian was already pulling her toward the kitchen, probably to get a drink. "It was us missing. Oblivion does that, but never for long."
"But you had families; you—"
"All a spell. All invention," Delian assured her.
"Why, is nothing to be taken as truth?" she wondered, a little outraged.
In the kitchen, Delian held her hand until she climbed onto a tall stool, as if he could not let go of her yet. "Oblivion is a little like Abuse, true," he said. "But that wouldn’t stop our brother."
He shrugged at a pained look from Ty and moved to the refrigerator, taking a bottle of champagne from it and quickly popping the cork.
Ty occupied the stool next to Elinor’s as Delian found glasses.
"So Nemours wanted to torment me, making me think you would be hurt or imprisoned?" Elinor asked sadly.
The two men exchanged a glance as Delian poured them drinks. "I told you, when he gets riled up he can get cruel."
"And I suppose the betrayal was not small."
Ty sighed. "Nemours is primeval dust and first magic. Hard for him to have perspective, sometimes. But he will accept that you were tricked, and even that it was his fault."
"He said people see what they want to see," she remarked. "I did."
"His fault, like Ty said, for not explaining anything," Delian contributed. "And making me think I was a servant, so I couldn't have any initiative. By the way, I don't usually call him lord or clean his stuff." He handed her and Ty their glasses and raised his. "Here is to us, again. What was it, Ty? That thing I like. You know, the three mosquitoes."
"Musketeers," Ty said. "All for one and one for all."
"That's it. That's us." They clinked glasses and Delian took a big gulp of his. "We are the three musketeers. And Lady E, it would be remiss of me not to mention that you look very fetching in that dress. New?"
"Uh-oh," Ty said, slowly and meaningfully.
Delian raised an eyebrow at him. "Were you going to say something, Ty?"
Ty turned to Eli
nor instead. "Have you come across the expression ‘a walking lawsuit’? It means that if before my brother was inconvenient, now that he's got his looks back he will act more like a criminal."
Elinor giggled into her glass. "But I'm the plain one of us at the moment."
"Never," Delian said. "That's Ty."
She narrowed her eyes as she looked from one to the other. "If you are lying and you're not Delian and Ty but some concoction of Ahn's, you shall be sorry."
Leaning closer to Elinor, his elbows on the counter, Delian smiled in delight. "I don't doubt we would be, but we are who we say. Think of it, it makes sense."
"Some ..." Elinor said, frowning. "Yet now we have no advantages — we are not hidden from your sisters anymore."
"Well, they'll find it harder to create duplicates and scry, for one," Ty said. "Apart from the fact that they're very busy at home with—"
He hesitated, and Delian finished his sentence, "—something like a war brewing."
"Truly?" Elinor was alarmed. "Nemours said he would call the banners, just as he banished me. Did they come? They're not all for him?"
Once more, the brothers exchanged glances.
"He did get a lord that tips the balance in his favor," Ty said quietly. "So perhaps there will be no war."
"That's good." They now seemed to be avoiding her eyes. "Isn't it?"
"The situation will hopefully require our sisters' full attention while we keep looking for the hekas here," Ty said.
"Let us pray it doesn't come to war," Elinor said, a frown of worry creasing her brow for a moment before her face brightened. "But, speaking of hekas, I did get the clue."
Ty perked up. "How?"
She explained what she had done. Ty's eyes shone as they usually did when they were solving a mystery.
"You're so clever," he told her when she was done.
"You gave me the idea, with retracing — remember?"
"But I wouldn't have thought of it."
"Can I muscle in on the lovefest?" Delian asked. "What does the clue say?"
"Less than kings, divided on red stone."
Delian screwed up his now too-handsome face, which couldn't be marred even by the grimace. "That means bugger-all to me." He poured them more champagne. "Maybe this will help."
"A temple, I thought," Elinor eagerly told Ty. "Less than kings, and yet worthy of a stone monument."
"Of course," he said. "A red or pink temple. It must be sandstone."
"Yes, it could be. And divided — has it not happened elsewhere, as here in England, that the religion changed? Then the temple—"
"Would be dedicated to two different gods? A division in worship."
A loud slurp made them look toward Delian, who waved his glass graciously at them. "Please continue. You do this so well."
They did; they always had. Elinor grabbed Ty's hands in excitement. "A temple in red, dedicated to two separate deities."
They climbed off their stools at the same time and moved toward the library as one, muttering.
"It's probably not Europe. I don’t know any red Christian church that might have served Catholics and Protestants—" said Ty.
"Byzantium?" Elinor wondered.
"Sometimes religions changed altogether, but we must look for sandstone temples. It will narrow the field considerably."
Delian followed them at leisure, holding the bottle and their glasses, as Ty sat at the table and pulled the laptop to him, beginning to type as he spoke.
"Christianity to Islam, Hinduism to Buddhism or vice versa. And most red temples would be in Asia."
The images that appeared out of his search for "red sandstone temple" showed the city of Petra, in Jordan, and temples in India as well as a place called Myanmar — and another called Cambodia.
"I've been to most of these." Ty scrolled for a while and pointed at an elaborate little temple. "This one! It fits completely. It's in Cambodia and served two different gods, and it was built by counselors, not by kings."
Elinor didn't wait for a longer explanation. "We should go, then."
She stretched her hand and Ty stood, taking it. Delian held up a finger, asking for a moment as he gulped down the rest of his champagne and took off his elegant black jacket, placing it carefully on the back of a chair. "Tom Ford," he said. "Let’s not commit too many sacrileges."
He patted the dagger sheathed along the waist of his trousers to ensure it was there and took their hands. "Lead on, Ty!"
9
They were fortunate. Cambodia was six hours ahead of England, and the complex where the little temple of Banteay Srei stood was still closed to visitors.
"Sunrise," Ty said looking up at the gray and orange sky. "People will be coming in droves soon."
"Utra tala," Delian said. "Just in case."
When they had found Crossing, Gloucester's tomb had risen and opened with light shining from it, and yet the visitors around it hadn't seen anything. Normal people would not perceive whatever magic took place, Elinor knew, but it was better for them to be invisible.
She had never seen a place like Banteay Srei, although she had seen images and films of foreign temples and mosques. They were inside a small complex built of red sandstone that looked faded in some places and dark in others after over a thousand years of rain. The carvings on lintels and around thresholds and windows were detailed and elaborate, depicting deities that Elinor, not long ago, would have considered devils. There were gods, warriors, goddesses and monsters. Around a central building, atop some steps, kneeling men with the heads of monkeys or dragons guarded the doors.
"We have to watch them." Elinor indicated the stone guards with her chin and Delian nodded.
Workers were already sweeping the grounds with brooms made of twigs. They chatted softly as Ty made his way up the steps and past the kneeling statues to peer at the carved inlays above the door.
"This is the sanctuary," he explained. "This place was primarily dedicated to Shiva, but the northern towers were for Vishnu, so two gods." He glanced at Elinor. "Gods of India — of Hinduism."
She stole a look at the scantily clad warriors and women with breasts round as melons in friezes and niches. "And these are the gods?"
"Devata. You might say lesser gods. And goddesses," Ty confirmed. "Although some are apsaras, dancing girls from heaven."
By his staring, Delian certainly thought them heavenly.
"And here it is," Ty added, so quietly that Elinor, lost in contemplation of the intricate carvings, almost didn't hear him.
"Where?" she cried.
He pointed at a triangle upside down, with an unclosed triangle intersecting it from below. "Likeness ..." he muttered.
Elinor remembered that shape from the drawings Nemours had made on her arm. It was most definitely Likeness. She and Delian climbed the few steps to join Ty.
"Vals adraq," said Ty.
The symbol lit, like the others had, and Ty put his hand to it. The rune entered his skin and he touched Elinor, letting it pass on to her. She passed it to Delian, who didn't hesitate to take her offered hand this time. Before she could comment on his newfound courage, or ask Ty what the clue said, the loud noise of stone moving startled her. The buildings around the sanctuary were closing in on them. The kneeling guards sprang up, their monkey faces forbidding. Now they were holding spears.
"Delian, I told you to watch them!" Elinor said as the three of them found themselves coerced inside the sanctuary.
"Got distracted a moment," he said, unsheathing his dagger. "Bet those girls are there on purpose."
"Don't try fighting them," Ty said calmly. "There's no point — they're made of stone. And I suspect there's no need."
Elinor still clung to Delian's sleeve — she could not forget the horrible apparition of Gloucester — and peeped around his arm as he shielded her.
"Did you get a clue?" she asked Ty.
"No. I think that's happening now."
The stone floor expanded, even as the four guards t
ook their places on either side of double doors. The room kept stretching until the strike of a gong announced the entrance of two handsome young men clad only in loincloths, their dark bodies and long black hair oiled.
"Male wrestling?" Delian clucked his tongue in disappointment. "This one's for you, Lady E."
"Sunda and Upasunda," Ty said.
Wasting no time and with a terrible cry, the young men attacked each other. Even Delian stepped back, wincing, as Sunda and Upasunda swung their maces. The dull thud of wood against flesh and the sharp crack of wood against bone rang out in the enclosed space until both lay broken and bloody.
A woman of exquisite beauty entered and scattered white flowers on the corpses. Without looking at the three people standing there, she said, “At twenty-seven, darkness follows a reckoning.”
As soon as she had delivered her message, the stones moved again — first to swallow the two fighters and the woman, then to close over them. The walls rotated, pushing the three seekers outward into the sun again, as the other buildings returned to their places and the stone guards, spinning, knelt atop the steps in their original positions.
"Success," said Delian with a wide smile as he took a deep breath. "You look spooked, Lady E?"
"A bit too much blood," she said faintly.
"Pretty good fight," Delian said approvingly. "Although I prefer a contest of swordsmanship myself. Breakfast will make you feel less queasy. Some tea, coffee, or whatever they have here, and we can talk about what it all means. Or rather you two can, and I'll pretend to listen."
It was a morning of a different kind for Elinor. The sweet smell of incense filled the air, and a wet heat was already rising. They crossed a moat with a pond that reflected the temple. Elinor stopped a moment to take in the beauty of the place and the soft music of cymbals. Flat, round leaves floated in the water, and bright pink flowers rose from them. She liked it there. It was peaceful.
