The Broken Tower
Yet if I thirst for their blood, if I hunger for their spirit, does that stain the righteousness of our task?
- Tales of the Desolate, uncensored; 1092 SLP
“They came in broad daylight?” Xaron asked with eyebrows raised.
“I know.” My answer was weary. We’d only just left the Conclave gates, but already I felt my body tiring. As the morning went on, each breath came more painful than the last. But I was determined not to return to bed, nor to let fear stop me from leaving the Conclave grounds. I’d wasted too much time already.
I glanced at Kelena and Nomusa, but both were silent. “What do you think?” I asked Nomusa.
She shrugged, offering nothing else. I let it be.
The walk to the Acadium was tense and quiet. It couldn’t be anything else with Seeker wardens at large again. If they dared to attack Kyros in broad daylight, who knew where they might appear next. The shadow of the Underguild lay over me as well, and I peered into every passing alley, expecting to see blue tatu glowing in the darkness. If the Guilders didn’t already know I was alive, it wouldn’t be long before word spread. And Kalindi wasn’t one to leave loose threads, to hear Talan tell it.
Talan. I took as deep a breath as I could manage as a different sort of pain spread through me. That damned fool had better take care of himself.
A touch on my arm. I glanced over to see Xaron’s brow creased with concern. “Are you alright?”
“Fine. Just a moment of weakness.”
His gaze lingered, but he looked away without another word.
By the time we reached the Acadium gates, my misery had augmented. Pain crawled up both legs and pounded in my head, to say nothing of how each labored breath burned in my chest. I feared even the journey back to Laurel Palace might prove too much for me. If only Clepsammia, or whoever wore her guise, could bolster my strength now.
As the Acadium gates came into sight, the changes jolted me back to alertness. The guards at the gate had tripled, and some of them wore no armor, but only leather and heavy cloth. Those trained to fight wardens, I assumed. By wielding no metal, they insulated themselves against the devastating effects of magnesis upon ordinary soldiers. I’d rarely seen the Acadium’s premier guards. Usually they only emerged if there was an incident with a warden on campus, and that was a rare enough occasion to warrant few sightings. They eyed us mistrustfully as we approached, particularly Xaron, upon observing his Hilarion clothes. Yet when Nomusa and I showed our Finch medallions, they waved us through.
The campus was more disorderly. Acadians milled about the paths, walking in knots and muttering among themselves. They, too, looked upon our group with suspicion and passed quickly by. These were the same people who would have held a pleasant conversation with a stranger only a few days before. I shook my head and continued on.
We saw signs of damage from the Archmaster’s tower long before arriving. The tall spire, black against the gray sky, spouted dark smoke. Kyros’ rooms had burned, and perhaps still did. I wondered how our quarrelsome warden had fared. Little as I liked him, we could ill afford his death. Seeing the tower again awoke a new dread in me. Twenty-two floors it rose, if memory served. I didn’t know if I could manage them in my condition. But I knew I had to try.
A small crowd had formed at the base of the tower. I only recognized one among them.
“Isi!” Xaron called. He pushed through the crowd to embrace the Acadian, and she returned it with a weary smile. Some small, protective part of me found it strange to see another woman being so familiar with him, but I pushed it down as Nomusa, Kelena, and I followed after him.
“You came,” Isidora said as we reached her.
“Of course.” He looked her up and down, and I saw what he must have — dust and soot coated her clothes. “Did you fight them?” Xaron asked apprehensively.
She shook her head. “I arrived afterward and helped put out the fire.”
“Was anyone killed? Anything in particular damaged or taken?” I broke in.
“It’s hard to say. It’s still a mess up there. You’re welcome to see for yourselves.” She eyed me with a skeptical look.
Was my weakness so obvious? But I didn’t need her doubts on top of mine. I nodded at Isidora and walked inside unassisted. Behind, Xaron made his farewells as Kelena and Nomusa followed me.
As I set my foot onto the first stair, Nomusa stopped me with a touch. “You don’t have to go up.”
“I do,” I said. “I visited his quarters before. I might notice something amiss.”
“It’s not likely from one visit. And look at you. You’re barely standing, and this tower is twenty-two circles tall.”
I was uncomfortably aware of Kelena watching us and pulled Nomusa closer. “What else am I going to do? Ariston and Vusu aren’t going to be content with biding their time much longer. If they’re confident enough to attack Kyros, who knows where they’ll strike next. I have to know why they came here. It might help us know what they’ll do next.”
“Even still, you have limits, Airene. Don’t push past them.”
I closed my eyes, trying not to sway as I did. I was exhausted to the bone. I wasn’t at all sure I could make it. If only I’d mastered channeling, I might be more assured. Then I might be able to bolster my strength with kinesis, as Xaron sometimes did. Or perhaps I could will my body to heal, as Komo was able to do, and as I’d done during my first long sleep. But there was no use in wishing for rain. I had to make the decision and stick to it.
I drew in a deep breath and winced. “I’m going. I’ll take it slow. I’ll rest at every circle. But I’m going up.”
Nomusa looked at me with bemusement and fondness. “You always keep going,” she said quietly. “How do you do it?”
I shrugged, a flush creeping up my neck. “I can’t rest when something needs doing, that’s all.”
She wrapped an arm around me, gingerly avoiding my ribs as best she could. “At least let me help.”
It took a full turn to reach the top of Kyros’ tower. Xaron and Kelena went ahead to confirm we could enter inside, though I wasn’t about to wait for permission after the pain I endured ascending. True to my word, I rested at each circle, and not of my own volition. Pain unlike anything I’d experienced before cascaded through me, and I was drenched in sweat. I hoped I wasn’t doing permanent damage. But I couldn’t turn back. I had to see the Archmaster’s chambers.
Finally, with Nomusa supporting me every step of the way, we arrived. I tried to hide my wheezing breaths as we entered within the scorched doorway.
The scene soon made me forget my suffering. Isidora had been right; it was difficult to tell if anything had been targeted, as the whole room was a wreck. The expensive carpets were burned and smeared with soot. The seared tapestries curled in on themselves, still trailing smoke. The pyr lamps, once levitating, were overturned on the floor, white pyrkin strewn over carpet and stone. Bookshelves were broken, smashed in as if by a gigantic hammer. Books were scattered and torn all across the room. Four Acadians moved about the room picked these up, carefully flipping through the pages as they evaluated them for damage.
Despite the open rent in the ceiling that admitted the cool air outside, the room was as hot as Maesos’ forge. Red coals still smoked near the opening, and I tried not to cough, fearing the pain it would bring.
Xaron and Kelena stepped from the corner where they’d been waiting. “Pretty bad, huh?” he murmured.
I nodded distractedly. My gaze had moved to the cabinets of strange trophies Kyros held and saw the glass smashed in and the items missing. I tried to remember what had been there before. An empty glass orb. A red mask with the aspect of a daemon. A white, wooden dagger—
I drew in a breath sharply, then hissed it out painfully.
Nomusa took my hand. “What is it? Is it the smoke?”
I shook my head, wondering if I should say what I suspected in front of Kelena. I decided to risk it. “I think I know wh
at they were after. What they might have taken.”
My companions’ eyes widened.
“What?” Xaron exclaimed.
“A wooden knife as white as bone. It would look like a child’s toy.”
Nomusa raised an eyebrow. “A wooden knife?”
“Just help me search for it. I’ll explain later.”
“Perhaps we should ask him first.” Kelena nodded to the figure standing in the center of the room.
Kyros Brighteyed, clad in soot-smeared bed robes, glared about his chambers, his eyes once again filled with Pyrthaen light. “Leave that one!” he snapped at an Acadian as she picked up a book.
The young woman startled and dropped it, then scurried to the next one.
Kyros seemed to notice us as our gaze fell on him. His eyes lingered on me. “What are you doing here?” he growled. “Just can’t keep your beak out of anything, eh?”
Nomusa spoke first. “It’s our duty to put our beaks into things, Archmaster Kyros.”
The man snorted. “Then figure this out. Seven of those ‘Thae-damned Seekers showed up, tried to kill me, then left. Why’d they do that?”
I swept my gaze over the room. “They did a fair deal more than that.” I pointed at the smashed display wall. “What did they take?”
The Archmaster’ scowl deepened. “Everything they didn’t break. As they should. That was a valuable collection of artifacts.” He waved a hand. “Now get out. We’re trying to clean up around here.”
“I think I need a short rest from the climb,” I said lightly. With a parting smile that felt more like a grimace, Nomusa helped me over to sit on a trunk, Xaron and Kelena following. Kyros’ eyes stayed on us for a moment before he turned to bark at another Acadian. I didn’t doubt he could eavesdrop if he wanted to, but I wouldn’t be saying anything he didn’t already know.
“He’s not telling the full truth,” Kelena said quietly. “I think he knows what they wanted.”
Xaron nodded. “According to what Kyros told Isi, the Seekers seemed surprised Kyros was even there. Kyros thought it had to do with him being up and about again — they probably didn’t expect him to still be in his room late in the morning. She also said that he didn’t understand why they’d taken what they had.”
“Did she say what that was?”
He shrugged. “She didn’t know. Maybe it was that knife.”
“But why the knife?” Nomusa asked. “What use is it?”
I glanced at Kyros, but I was thinking about Kelena. Perhaps it was past time she knew the truth. “I think it has something to do with Famine,” I said quietly.
All three of them stared at me, and I thought I saw Kyros startle as well.
“I read about it in an ancient tome, The Seeds of Famine, written just after the Lighted Passage. To defeat Famine, a knife like that was used to… sacrifice someone.”
“Sacrifice someone?” Nomusa said. “Like kill them?”
I nodded.
She shook her head. “What good would killing them do?”
“Perhaps it was an artifact with some latent power. Talan spoke of a chalice once that could pour any substance from it. There are stories of other magical artifacts.”
“But that’s just it — they’re stories.”
“And so was Famine, until he wasn’t.”
“Airene might be right,” Xaron broke in. “I know the Qao Fu wear veils that are made partly by channeling to keep out the sand.”
“The ikoz are bound by a certain cloth,” Kelena spoke softly. “And there are legends among our people of items that brought men and women in contact with the Fates.”
“The Fates?” Xaron asked.
“The spirits of death among my people, the Kalthuae.” She smiled thinly. “We honors have become well-acquainted with the Fates ever since our enslavement.”
An uncomfortable silence fell between us, broken only by the shuffling of the Acadians around the room and Kyros’ reprimands.
“We should head back down,” Nomusa said, her expression neutral. She glanced at me. “Are you well enough to try?”
I nodded, though I felt far from well. The thought of all those stairs sent chills of dread through my body.
But before I could rise again, another figure emerged from the stairwell and threw back her hood. I stared in astonishment as Eltris irritably brushed back the wispy gray hairs that sprang into her face and strode toward Kyros.
The Archmaster looked surprised as well as displeased. “My rooms have become a spectacle, have they? Birds and bird-watchers settling the place! What are you doing here, Eltris?”
“What did they take?” The Master Augur spoke as if Kyros were her subordinate, rather than the reverse.
His face purpled with rage. “What gives you the right to—?”
“It’s far past time for that, Kyros. Time is of the essence. Did they take it?”
The Archmaster’s glowing eyes flickered toward us. Eltris looked around for the first time and visibly startled. Her expression darkened as she saw me sitting behind the other three. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
Xaron stammered a greeting, but I asked calmly, “What do you suspect they took?”
“Never mind,” Eltris snapped. She looked back to Kyros. “I expect an answer momentarily. Don’t block me out as before or I’ll break down your barriers. And that won’t be pleasant for either of us.”
Turning on her heels, the augur made swiftly for the door.
My head spun. The bone-white dagger — that had to be what Eltris meant. But did that mean she knew what it was used for? If she knew, who else might?
“Eltris, wait!” I rose and lurched after her, my legs nearly buckling beneath me. Xaron and Nomusa caught me and held me upright.
The Master Augur whirled back. “Stop this now, girl! Don’t you see yet? Don’t you see what will result from your foolish pride?”
“Pride?” I could scarcely believe her words. “You think I act out of pride?”
“Of course it’s pride! And pride will be your undoing.” She turned abruptly to leave.
“I’m not done with you!” I said angrily. My ribs ached, but I pushed through the pain. “Why did you visit Linos and not tell me?”
Eltris paused and glanced back. “It’s none of your concern.”
“Damned if it’s not! He’s my brother!”
“Not anymore. He’s empty, girl. He’s what Vusu called him — a vessel. A shell waiting to be filled.” The flickering light of the dying coals caught in her eyes. “You know who Vusu intends to fill him with.”
My breath caught. All the knowledge I’d gathered suddenly spun together.
He cannot deny one born of his seed…
Within your heart lies the power to restrain a god…
A sacrifice of spirit, or an offering of blood…
She raised a knife white as bone, then plunged it through her own chest…
My knees went weak, and I would have fallen but for Xaron and Nomusa’s support. Yet though I struggled to deny Eltris’ words and my conclusions, I could only whisper, “Liar.”
The Master Augur shook her head and turned back down the stairs. The slapping of her sandals faded as she descended the stairs.
I drew in a shaky breath and recovered my balance, then extricated myself from my friends. “We’d better go.”
Xaron hovered at my shoulder. “Airene, about Linos… I’m sure she didn’t mean that.”
I closed my eyes and felt myself sway, exhaustion threatening to claim me. “She meant it, Xaron. I don’t think Eltris is the wise woman you hoped she was. I think she’s a recluse so used to keeping her secrets that she won’t reveal them until it’s too late.”
I opened my eyes and found my vision swimming. “We have to meet Jaxas. I don’t want to keep him waiting.” I glanced at Kelena. “Will you come too?”
The honor nodded. “My network watches the Manifest. And for your Guilder,” she added with a look at me. “I can do no more t
han wait until I receive word back.”
Xaron and Nomusa exchanged looks across me, but I ignored them and turned for the door. “Fine. Then we’ll wait.”
“We may hear back by the time we get down this tower,” Xaron said lightly.
Even his levity could do little to lighten my mood. Yet I took his arm all the same as we began the long descent.
Xaron and Nomusa took turns supporting me as we walked back through Oedija’s streets to the Laurel Palace. Dark, overcast skies added to the uneasy feeling in the air. Brawls and robberies broke out in alleys as we passed. Along most streets, shop windows were broken in, and carts and stalls abandoned. All around us, the city was tearing itself apart.
My heart hammered from more than exertion. At any moment, I expected Guilders to emerge from the shadows and surround us. A knot of four men drifted by us, leering and calling jeers after us. But when Xaron flared fire to life in his hands, they scampered back the way they’d come, cursing “damned daemons” until their angry shouts faded away.
It seemed a miracle that we reached the Laurel Palace unscathed. The guard at the gates had doubled, and they shouted and pushed back at the crowd as they admitted us. More than one of the gathered people received a hard crack from their spears. I winced and hurried past to ascend the hill to the palace.
The last of my strength was fast fading. My anger with Eltris had only sustained me the descent of Kyros’ tower; ever since, it had been a losing battle. Each step became less steady than the last. A haze had settled over my thoughts. I barely heard Xaron and Nomusa as they spoke. Only the worry and fear cut through the cloud and kept me moving forward.
We pushed on until we reached Jaxas’ solar. Wits dulled, I barely recognized Nikias standing before us as Nomusa and Xaron led me into the room and into a chair by the hearth. I didn’t notice Jaxas until he moved into the firelight and sat next to me.
“Rest,” he said as he leaned forward in his chair. “All you must do is rest.”
I had no choice but to obey. My head lolled back on the chair, and my eyes closed.
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