“I didn’t just want to take the vampire, my dear,” the Black Matron said. “I wanted to own the vampire. This is how I’m going to do it.”
“The deal is off,” the Homemother said. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I can’t watch it happen, and I can’t let you risk the lives of my children. You were supposed to donate to us so we could give more children better lives, not—” The Homemother’s voice broke in a sob. “Not take away the lives of the children I have,” she whispered.
The Black Matron pursed her lips. “I’m sorry, dear,” she said. “I’ll do what I can to get what I want. And this is the surest, most secure way to get that.”
Knot sensed movement from the chair in the middle of the room, and turned to see Jidri standing slowly.
Astrid’s groan amplified, becoming a strangled, gurgling shout.
“You want to stop this?” the Black Matron asked, crouching down next to Astrid.
The girl nodded her head, almost imperceptibly, but it was there.
“Then swear fealty to me,” the Black Matron said. “Swear you will obey me, swear you will do what I say, when I say it.”
“I sweaaaar,” Astrid whispered.
The Black Matron smiled. “Good.” She nodded to her Goddessguard, who walked right past Jidri, and bent to pick up Astrid, placing the nightsbane gently on her chest as he cradled her.
Astrid groaned, the sound broken and cracked as she struggled weakly in the Goddessguard’s arms.
“Let’s go,” the Black Matron said.
“Wait,” the Homemother said, looking up at Jidri as his eyes began to glow red. “You can’t leave us alone with this!”
The Black Matron did not respond. The last sound Knot heard was Jidri’s croaking voice.
“So… thirsty…”
* * *
Strangely, Knot didn’t return directly to the Void. Every memory he’d experienced so far had been one continuous scene, more or less, occasionally transitioning from one adjacent space to another. This time, however, the memory went black, and then Knot found himself in a plain stone room, not unlike the cell in which he knew his body now rested. Somehow, even though it did not take place sequentially, this must be part of the same memory.
Astrid was chained to a chair in the middle of the room, staring vacantly into nothing. It must have been day, as her eyes no longer glowed, and she did not even bother struggling against the chains.
Thick steel bars split the room in two, and on the other side of them stood the Black Matron.
“I know you said you would serve me,” the Black Matron said, “and I want to take you at your word, but I hope you understand why I cannot do that.”
Astrid said nothing, did not even move, and Knot wondered whether her mind was really there at all.
“What I can do is offer you something.”
The Black Matron placed both hands on the steel bars in front of her, her face almost touching the metal.
“Redemption,” she said.
Astrid snarled as she railed against the chains that bound her.
The Black Matron leapt backwards from the bars, eyes wide. She cleared her throat, composing herself. “Well, I thought it was worth a try. The basic idea is there, at least. Why else would you devote your life to helping children after you killed your own younger brother and sister?”
Astrid continued to snarl, struggling against her chains, but her daytime strength simply wasn’t enough.
“I have one more thing to offer you,” the Black Matron said. “Something I think you might actually consider. You’ve been through a great deal over the years, my dear. Much of it has been very difficult, I’m sorry to say. I already mentioned you tearing your family to pieces. But then, oh—the first woman you’d begun to trust in decades betrayed you, and all you’d worked to build with her was destroyed. That cannot be a good feeling.”
Astrid’s struggling slowed, and Knot saw the tears forming in her eyes.
“What I’m offering could fix all of that,” the Black Matron said. She leaned forward once more. “I can make you forget.”
Astrid met the Black Matron’s eyes.
“Forget,” Astrid said, her voice hoarse and raw.
“Yes,” the Black Matron said. “If you promise to serve me, I can make all of those memories go away.”
There was a silence that seemed to last a lifetime, until Astrid finally responded, her voice barely above a whisper. She nodded, once.
“Forget.”
34
Outskirts of Kirlan
THE ODENITES WERE PACKING up camp.
Astrid stood outside Cinzia’s tent, staring at the people taking down tents, wrestling to close packs, and running to and fro.
She’d been out last night, in the city, searching for Knot again. According to Cinzia, he was still in Kirlan, but would not be for long. Very soon, he would be taken to Triah. When Astrid had asked how Cinzia came by this information, she had refused to answer. But Cinzia believed it was valid, and that had been enough for Astrid. She’d checked the Cantic chapel where the Black Matron had held her, multiple times, but found nothing. She’d checked every other Cantic chapel in the city as well, and the apartments where the clergy stayed.
Knot was nowhere to be found.
But they weren’t giving up hope. Astrid and Cinzia had elected to sneak into the city that evening and simply wait on the southern side until the Black Matron made her way south. Astrid could gain entry to the city easily, but getting Cinzia in would be much more difficult. They still hadn’t figured that out yet, exactly, but they had the entire day to plan for it.
Or thought they had. Now, as Astrid saw the Odenites getting ready to move, she knew their plan would have to change.
“What in Oblivion is going on?”
Astrid turned to see Cinzia emerging from her tent into the morning light. It was a windy morning, despite the sun, and Astrid had drawn her cloak over her face, protecting her from the sunlight. The light shone on Cinzia clearly, and her auburn hair shimmered like copper as it waved in the wind.
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Astrid said.
“Jane held a meeting last night, but I do not know what it was about.”
“Apparently it was about leaving.”
“Apparently it was,” Cinzia said, looking around. “Jane does not seem to have slept in her bed. Have you seen her?”
Astrid shook her head. Jane had always been kind to her, but the woman’s decision to abandon Knot had irrevocably changed things between them.
On the other hand, her relationship with Cinzia had never been better.
“We must find her,” Cinzia said, standing on tiptoe to see over the heads of the people around them. “We cannot go through with our plan if the Odenite movement might cause conflict.”
The entire group of Odenites really was packing up. The Odenite following had continued to grow, receiving dozens of new people every day, and now numbered nearly two thousand. The group had completely filled Lord Derard’s huge field north of Kirlan. How such a large group survived—and even thrived—was beyond Astrid’s comprehension. Jane referred to it as a miracle, as Canta providing for them all. Astrid didn’t know about that, but she acknowledged that while Derard’s holdings were bountiful, they were not so bountiful as to sustain thousands of people for months. Astrid wondered if the Odenites knew how fortunate they were to not be dealing with disease and starvation at every turn.
Finally, they found Jane, helping a tiellan family take down their tent.
“Sister,” Cinzia said, approaching Jane with a smile, “can I have a word?”
Jane looked up, wiping sweat from her brow. “Of course,” she said with a smile. “As soon as I help the Ganir family pack their belongings. Give us a hand, and we’ll get it done faster.”
Astrid snorted. A shameless attempt at recruiting help. She wasn’t going to fall for such a—
“We would love to help,” Cinzia said, rolling up the slee
ves of her dress.
Astrid grumbled, but followed suit. She supposed it was fine if it helped them speak with Jane more quickly.
When the tent and belongings were all packed onto a handcart, Jane turned to them.
“How can I help you?”
Cinzia spread her arms wide. “Jane… what is going on?”
Jane’s eyes widened, and she touched Cinzia’s arm. “Of course! I am so sorry, I’d completely forgotten that you were not at the assembly last night. Or at the council meeting yesterday morning.” Jane cocked her head to one side. “I suppose you’ve been a bit absent lately, haven’t you?”
Cinzia held Jane’s gaze. “I suppose I have been, but someone has had to do something about Knot,” she said.
“Someone is.”
Astrid growled. If Jane said, “He’s in Canta’s hands,” one more time, she would rip out the Prophetess’s throat.
“Just tell me what is going on, Jane.”
“I do not mean to be obstinate.”
“Could have bloody fooled me,” Astrid muttered. That earned her a surprised glance from Jane—was the woman really surprised? After how she had treated Knot?—but she continued nonetheless.
“I have received new direction from Canta. We are to continue south, to Triah.”
Astrid rolled her eyes.
Cinzia was equally skeptical. “That has been the understanding for months, now. Why is it different? Are the Sons of Canta gone?”
“No,” Jane said, “the Sons still guard the gate. But the immediacy has changed. Canta needs us to move now.”
“So, what, the Goddess is just going to fight the Sons for us?” Astrid asked.
“She will provide a way.”
Astrid scoffed. “You can’t be serious. At best, the Odenites will walk up to the wall, and simply have to turn around and walk back when nothing happens. At worst, there will be a conflict with the Sons. Odenites will die, Jane.”
“That is in Canta’s hands, now.”
“Have you told the Odenites all of this?” Cinzia asked. “Are they aware what they are walking towards?”
“They are aware,” Jane said, “and they have faith. That faith will carry us south to Triah.”
Astrid suddenly had a vision of the entire Odenite following—nearly two thousand people—being lifted up on a massive cloud and flown through the air directly to Triah. She laughed out loud.
Jane looked at her, clearly not understanding her humor. Astrid just laughed harder.
“When is this movement happening?” asked Cinzia.
“Midday. As soon as we have everything packed up and ready.”
“Bloody Oblivion,” Cinzia muttered.
Astrid turned to face Cinzia, eyebrows raised. But who was she to judge?
* * *
At midday, Astrid and Cinzia stood together in front of the Odenite crowd, at Jane’s left hand. On her right stood the other three disciples: Ocrestia, Elessa, and Baetrissa. The wind whipped at Astrid’s hair and clothing, threatening to tear her hood away.
“You really think anything will come of this?” Astrid asked Cinzia, pulling her hood down tighter over her face.
Cinzia shrugged. “Jane has made some ridiculous claims in the past, but…”
“But she isn’t often wrong,” Astrid finished.
“No,” Cinzia said, “she isn’t. Although she has not quite been right, either.”
Astrid snorted. That was true enough.
She had expected Jane to give another speech before they began this ridiculous march—two thousand unarmed civilians marching on a walled city reinforced by a contingent of the Sons of Canta—but instead, Jane simply walked forward, away from the crowd and toward the city.
Cinzia said nothing, and began to slowly walk forward with her sister.
The entire Odenite following moved forward as one, and Astrid felt a strange kinship with everyone around her. Despite the disconnect between them—despite the fact that she was a bloody vampire, and these people had nothing to do with her— she felt a part of them.
The gates ahead were closed and barred. On top of the wall, Astrid could see the Sons, armed with bows and crossbows, waiting for them.
When Jane, Astrid, and the disciples reached a distance at which they could communicate, they stopped, and Jane shouted up at the Sons, “Good day to you.” Her voice sounded calm, as if she were not shouting at all, but her voice somehow projected far enough that all in the area could hear.
The Sons looked at one another, then back down at Jane. “What do you want?” one of them shouted.
“Safe passage through Kirlan, and onward to Triah. Nothing more.”
The Sons’ laughter drifted down from the wall. Astrid didn’t blame them.
“We’ve given you our answer,” the same Son shouted back down. “None of you are getting through this gate.”
Jane squinted in the sun. “I will ask you one more time. We seek safe passage through Kirlan, and onward to Triah.”
“And we’ll respond the same way,” the Son shouted in return. “That will not happen.”
“Very well,” Jane said, though only loud enough this time for her voice to be heard by those around her. “We walk forward,” she said to her followers, “one foot in front of the other, and have faith in Canta’s power. That is all we ever need do.”
She took Cinzia’s hand on one side, and Ocrestia’s on the other. Cinzia seemed surprised at the gesture, but then reluctantly held out her other hand to Astrid.
“Don’t think so,” Astrid said.
“Just do it,” Cinzia whispered. “Play along, for now. Do it for Knot, if nothing else.”
Astrid sighed heavily, pulling the cloak further down over her head. Then, she took Cinzia’s hand, while almost simultaneously the person next to her—a woman Astrid didn’t even know—took her other hand. She barely restrained the growl that began in her throat.
She glanced over her shoulder. Every Odenite on foot that Astrid could see had followed suit, holding hands. And behind them came the wagons, handcarts, people on horseback. Jane had eschewed her own horse, and insisted the disciples do the same, while they first approached the wall.
“Forward,” Jane said, so quietly that Astrid was not sure anyone besides the few around her could actually hear. “One front in front of the other. Have faith.”
As one, the Odenites began to walk forward. But what would they do when they reached the wall? Astrid wondered. The gates were barred—there was nowhere to go. Even so, the Sons seemed worried.
“Stop right there!” the Son called from the walltop, only his head and chest visible above the parapet. “Do not go any farther! In the name of the Essera, the Denomination, and Holy Canta Herself, I command you to stop!”
The Odenites paid the man no heed.
On the wall, Sons chattered among themselves in obvious confusion. Some were raising crossbows, others nocking arrows to their bows, but still more cast their eyes about, unsure of what to do. The Sons would retaliate somehow, very soon, if something did not happen. Jane was expecting a miracle. She would need one to get the Odenites out of this mess.
“One foot in front of the other,” Jane repeated. “Have faith.”
Astrid tensed. If it came to violence, she would only be able to do so much. The sun was high in a cloudless sky, and there were a lot of Sons on that wall. She looked up at Cinzia; the woman was staring straight ahead, eyes wide.
“This had better bloody—”
A low rumble interrupted Astrid’s words. The wind picked up, whipping her cloak around her. Beneath her feet, the earth began to quake. People shouted in panic, both the Odenites around her and Sons from the wall. Astrid gripped Cinzia’s hand more tightly, and felt Cinzia do the same.
The city wall began to crumble.
The merlons collapsed first, the stones breaking and fragmenting again and again as they fell. The rest of the parapet followed, the Sons now standing awkwardly atop the wall, in full view without an
ything to protect them. They did not stand there long; with a tremendous rumble, the entire wall buckled, then collapsed. Sons screamed as they lost their footing and then fell. The crumbling stones, however, never touched the ground. They disintegrated completely as they collapsed, and the strong wind carried the dust away, eastward, over the forest. The earth continued to shake beneath Astrid’s feet, but soon all that remained where Kirlan’s wall once stood were the Sons of Canta, injured and moaning on the bare ground.
Astrid stood only a few rods away from the wall itself, but, looking down at herself, she was surprised to see she was untouched by dust or debris.
“What the shit,” Astrid whispered. She looked up at Cinzia.
Tears were streaming down Cinzia’s face. She opened her mouth, but whether she meant to say anything or not, Astrid could not tell. No sound came from her.
“One foot in front of the other,” Jane said, and she motioned for their horses. “Have faith.”
They mounted, and began weaving their way through the Sons.
The Sons allowed the Odenites to move right past them. Many Sons cared for those who’d been wounded in the fall from the wall, but to Astrid’s surprise, none of the injuries seemed grievous. Perhaps a few broken bones here and there, at the worst.
The rest of the Sons just stared at the passing Odenites in confusion, concern, and awe.
Jane led the Odenites through the city streets of Kirlan. Citizens stared at where their wall used to be, and then at the Odenites, bewilderment etched on their faces.
No one said a word to them as they passed through the city. As they walked, it became clear the entire wall had fallen, not just the section to the north. Soon Jane, Astrid, and the disciples had led the Odenites through Kirlan and over the disintegrated stump of the wall on the southern side of the city. The Coastal Road, leading south toward Triah, was open before them.
Astrid and Cinzia rode their horses a short distance away from the main group.
“What now? We wait?” Astrid asked.
Cinzia opened her mouth to respond, but then her eyes glazed over as she cocked her head to one side. Before Astrid could ask her what in Oblivion was going on, Cinzia’s eyes widened, focusing once again on Astrid.
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