by E. S. Bell
Selena remembered a chart she had seen at the Guild on Isle Parish. So ancient, it had to be set between two panes of glass lest it fall apart at the slightest touch. It was of Lunos before the Breaking, and three thousand years old. Instead of many islands, there had been one country, wide and whole. Selena couldn’t imagine so much unbroken land, but the archivist had said it was true. The dragons had smashed the world in their war. They shattered it and cast the shards afloat over the vast oceans. The Breaking. The dragons died and the gods came to power, none more powerful than the Two-Faced God who ruled supreme. A moon god to rule over a world of water.
The Two-Faced God’s full silver moon was prominent in the tapestry hanging in this shop before her.
Where it belongs.
But the tapestry’s beauty was ruined, Selena thought, by the inclusion of the Void. There was a blank space on the right side of the tapestry. The Void was a strange, unknowable hole in the sky from which the sirrak came, and from which coppery rocks sometimes fell to Lunos. These rocks were valued for their rarity and brought their lucky finders fortunes in gold doubloons.
“Abysmite,” Selena murmured.
With a stab of fear, Selena scanned the rest of the wares in the shop for unusual copper jewelry, as the rocks were sometimes made into necklaces or bracelets of great beauty…and terrible danger to magic-wielder’s such as herself. Those lessons she recalled with great clarity. Rocks fallen from the Void would deafen her to the god and strip her of her powers simply by touch. She saw none, though she didn’t know if she’d recognize such a rare piece should she find one. She proceeded perusing the shop with caution.
A table made from the cross-section of a tree trunk and finely polished, displayed a tray of jewelry. Pendants and amulets of various design, some exquisite, some grotesque, some so plain that she wondered at their worth, were arrayed on a cloth of black velvet. One trinket caught Selena’s eye; she ran her fingers over a heavy red-gold coin. The edges were rough and uneven but the engraving on the face was expertly done. Selena shivered for the etching was that of a Zak’reth warrior, his face covered in the fearsome visage of a helm forged to look like a ferocious animal, as the warriors were fond of wearing. Her thoughts were swamped with terrifying memories of battles against the Zak’reth and their menacing helms and their weapons that burned as well as cut. She returned the coin to its tray and started to leave.
“Welcome, child.”
Selena flinched and spun around in time to see a slender hand bedecked with rings, pull the curtain at the rear of the shop aside. A woman of middle years stepped forward, her dress of multicolored silk hung in elegant folds around her slim form. She smiled at Selena, her dark, almond eyes warm and sharp. A woman from the Ho Sun Isles in the Eastern Edge. The seer bowed in greeting, her straight black hair brushing her chin.
“You are a fresh flower who does not wilt in the heat,” she observed, her accent thick. “You would like a reading?” The seer gestured to the back room from which she had come.
“Oh no, thank you.”
“Spinning stones speak much for those willing to listen.” The seer smiled. “I can help you, sweet one.”
Selena gave a small laugh. “Unless you have a ship to sell me, I very much doubt it.”
“Not help for out there.” She flapped her hands toward the street. “Help for here.” She motioned over Selena’s head, spreading her arms wide. “Dark clouds over you,” she said. “Dark clouds that never rain, never release. Only threaten.”
Selena stiffened. These seers are all charlatans. She is no different.
But the woman was smiling at her again in such a welcoming way, it brought to mind Selena’s mother before she fell sick. How she’d smile when, as a small child, Selena would run into the kitchen of their fine house on Isle Lillomet, her hands filled with seashells and her mind filled with questions.
“A reading,” Selena said slowly. “I don’t think so. The Two-Faced God is mine. I don’t need the services of the lesser.”
“Lesser?” The woman sniffed. “The stars, they are not as bright as the moon, but they shine still, yes?” The woman cocked her head. “Is it wrong to you, priestess?”
“No,” Selena said. “I don’t know. I have spent most of my life on the Western Watch and am ignorant of the gods save my own.” She looked at the seer. “Do many people keep to gods other than the Two-Faced God?”
“Many people do,” the woman said. “The big moon god is emperor, that is true. Of course it is. So much water to sail. Tides, currents…” She waved her hand.
Selena stiffened. “There is more to it than that.”
“Of course, of course. Your moon god is light and dark, healing and hurting. Light and ice. Many temples on many islands, yes?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Ah huh. Big god, big power. But not the only magic on Lunos.”
“But the other gods’ magic is weaker?” Selena asked. “Isn’t it?”
“No, no. Not so weak. That coin you admired just now? Very old. Very powerful.”
The woman moved to stand by Selena and her graceful fingers plucked the red-gold disc from its place among many other gems and coins.
“How did you know?”
The woman smiled. She laid the coin in Selena’s hand. “This from Oshkat. He is the god of war and blood and the arts of battle. The Zak’reth’s god.”
The coin felt heavier than its size warranted. “The Zak’reth are my enemy.” Selena set the coin down and wiped her hand on her tunic. “And your god? Not this Oshkat?”
“No. The Ho Sun people do not worship the war god. Shaizan speaks to An-Lan.” The woman’s smile was so warm, so gentle, Selena couldn’t help soften her heart to her.
“Hello, An-Lan. I am Selena.”
“Yes, of course. I foresaw in my dreams. A warrior lady of the big god, come to see me. Strong and powerful, but small and lonely, too.”
“Small and lonely.” Selena sighed. “Yes. I suppose that’s true.”
An-Lan led Selena to the rear of her shop by the hand. “Come. I do a reading for you, bring you some peace.”
“No, no, I shouldn’t,” Selena said. “I shouldn’t give succor to another god.”
“Give succor?” An-Lan furrowed her delicate brows. “I do not know these words, but I know that you are loyal to your big god and so you worry. Do not. Taking a reading is not the same as worship or pledging to serve. Come.”
An-Lan guided her into a small back room with walls of hanging beads and silken curtains. A small table and two small chairs were its furnishings. On the table sat half a dozen lit candles and a small, milky white ceramic bowl with grooved sides. It was covered with strange symbols in pale blue, green, pink, and gold. A lantern hung from above, casting a warm, yellow glow over all.
“Are you not worried about thievery to leave your shop unattended?” Selena asked.
An-Lan sniffed. “I’m no pretender. Anyone who steals from An-Lan will see his cock shrivel, turn black, and fall off!”
Selena covered her laugh with one hand. “Is that true?”
“It’s true!” An-Lan said, and then smiled slyly. “Well, maybe not all true. But the people know stealing from a seer angers the gods. They do not try. Superstitious bunch, all sailors. But to be safe, I have many jewels and stones that are nothing but glass and rock. They are mixed among what is real, and the real are very rare, very scarce. Not many.” She shut the draperies behind them. “You picked a real one. It does not surprise me.”
She guided Selena into one of the small chairs and took the other. From a hidden pocket in her billowy dress she withdrew a small velvet pouch that bore a wide staring eye in silver stitching. An-Lan emptied the pouch onto the table and ten beautiful, perfectly cut oval opals spilled out. Some were milky and flecked with pink, green, and blue. Others were the deep blue-green of the sea, with gold swimming in their depths.
“You want three questions or one?” An-Lan asked. “Three, I think. You have the money for three and you n
eed many answers, yes?”
“I suppose,” Selena said, suddenly feeling very foolish.
“You just wait,” An-Lan said. She scooped up the pile of opals and shook them like a dicer before a throw. “The moon god is not the only god who Hears you, sweet one. Close your eyes and ask.”
“Ask what?”
“Three questions. Ask in your heart and mind, but do not speak them to me. Shaizan shall answer, not I.”
Selena held her hand to her heart, to the cold draft that emanated always from her breast, wondering if it was blasphemous to do this, wondering if the Two-Faced God would be angered by this betrayal, wondering if it was a betrayal at all if her own god would not hear her pleas; and wondering, lastly, if An-Lan was merely a magnificent show woman with a keen instinct for reading people and nothing more.
The cold from her wound chilled her hand. Selena closed her eyes and asked her three questions.
Will I find passage to Isle Saliz?
Will I find love?
How will I close the wound?
The second question surprised her as she hadn’t intended to ask something so irrelevant to her mission. But it had popped into her mind, unbidden, from some deep recess below the wound. A foolish question. A waste. There will be no love for me, not while I bear the wound. But done was done.
When she opened her eyes An-Lan’s smile was gentle, kindly. “Very good, child. And now the god answers.”
Still shaking her hand—the opals clacked within—she put her other on the white ceramic bowl and gave it a spin. It wasn’t a hard spin, certainly not hard enough for more than one or two rotations. Yet the bowl spun around and around, faster and faster, until its sigils were a blur.
“Your first question,” An-Lan said, and tossed one opal of the ten into the spinning bowl.
Selena flinched, half-expecting the gemstone to come flying back out. Instead, it seemed to vanish into the bowl that spun like a vortex. A small plume of pale smoke rose and she watched, awed as an image appeared within the cloudy depths.
A ship under sail rode turbulent waters. The sails strained at their rigging as a storm bore down, tossing the vessel on caps bearded white while lightning flashed above. Selena peered harder, imaging she could see the ship’s crew.
“The answer to your first question is the Voyage,” An-Lan said.
“A voyage?”
“The Voyage. What you see in the smoke are the words of Shaizan. Centuries of study to learn their meaning. This one. The Voyage. A voyage for you. Very soon, you depart. You will travel far…farther than you expect.” She studied the storm-tossed ship with a frown. “Your destination is dark and thick with danger. You are like a light in that darkness, driving it back as the Shining face of your god does when the moon is full. But beware for the dark will try to swallow you, consume you, to make you something like itself. That is all I see.”
The smoke vanished. The bowl slowed to a stop. The opal was gone.
Selena shifted. It means little. A trick of smoke and words to scare me, to lend weight to her ‘vision’ which is nothing more than rumors of my need to get off this island.
An-Lan rattled the nine remaining opals in one hand and set the bowl to spinning again with the other. “Your second question.” She tossed an opal into the bowl where it disappeared into another plume of smoke.
The image that appeared was a man’s face, one half smiling and charming, the other half skeletal with a black oval eye socket and exposed teeth that grinned obscenely. The man wore a top hat such as the kind the troubadours wear at their traveling shows, and behind him were items tossed as if from a juggler’s hand: knives, pistols, and gold doubloons.
An-Lan’s mouth drew down.
“The Trickster,” she said. “A bad omen. I know not of what you asked, but I tell you child, that if a man such as this comes into your life, you would be wise to…”
Selena watched as the seer, as if acting not of her own volition tossed another opal. The Trickster visage disappeared and was replaced by two hands—man’s hands—held out in entreaty.
“Is that the answer to my third question?” Selena asked. “You said I had three…?”
“No, child. Another stone was required for your second question.”
Will I find love? Selena felt her cheeks redden. This is foolish…
An-Lan looked up. “The Supplicant. A confusing draw, I admit. I take it to mean another man, but no.” She frowned, looking at the smoke as though she could see through it. “When I look into the smoke, I see two people and yet…Shaizan is telling me that the Supplicant and the Trickster are linked somehow. In what way, I cannot see. That is for you to know when the time comes.”
Selena nodded, though she could not say she understood what An-Lan or her smoke and stones meant. They mean nothing, she thought but found herself holding her breath when the seer released the opal that was meant to answer the question about her wound. The bowl spun, the opal vanished, and a new smoky funnel rose up.
This time a rose, full-petaled and blooming, with a droplet of blood dripping from its single thorn appeared in the smoke.
“The Sacrifice. A tragic omen. I see a figure lying on the sand, wounded, bleeding. This person will die for you to set you free. That is all I see.”
“Ilior,” Selena whispered, icy dread clutching her heart.
“Perhaps it will be this Ilior. Perhaps not. It is not for you or I to say as we sit here now, comfortable and safe in my shop. When the time comes, you will know.”
An-Lan made to put the satchel of opals away, now diminished by four, and then stopped, confused. She cocked her head as though listening to something only she could hear. “Another stone,” she breathed. She looked up at Selena. “You are powerful, child, that a god, not your own, wishes to speak so much to you.”
An-Lan tossed the opal into the spinning bowl and sucked in a breath as a new image resolved itself. Even without knowing its meaning, the image in the smoke frightened Selena in some deep part of her; the core of herself where the god’s wound truly began.
Blackness. A deep well of impenetrable dark. A hole in the air in which all light died. Even as she stared, helpless to look away, Selena saw from her periphery the candles in the shop dim, their flames growing small until they were hardly more than a pale blue drop clinging to their wicks. The very light in the room seemed drawn to the circle of black, as if it were sucking it in. Selena’s heart thudded with familiar terror.
“My wound,” she breathed.
The seer raised her eyes to meet Selena’s. “This image is called Abyss. In all the readings I have ever done, I’ve never…” She stopped the bowl from spinning by pinching its lip with two fingers. The smoke dissipated. She swallowed and forced a smile. “Well. The god has answered. That is all I see.”
“But what does it mean?” Selena asked. “That question, of all of them, was the most—”
An-Lan held up a hand. “Say nothing to me of your questions. The god has spoken and the answer is silence. More than silence. The Abyss. It is where the gods go to die. Shaizan cannot help you and so then neither can I.”
Selena noticed that over the course of her reading, the woman’s accent had all but vanished and she spoke the Tradespeak with perfect ease.
“My god cannot see if the Two-Faced God does not wish him to see,” An-Lan said in a gentler tone. She took Selena’s hand. “Your god…it has shrouded you. This is true, yes?”
Selena nodded. “It is.” I should have known. But still, the disappointment bit deep, which surprised her.
An-Lan patted her hand and released it.
“Shaizan has spoken more today, for you, than he has all week. I pray you will find answers in his words, when the time comes.”
Selena nodded and the two left the small alcove. She was drawn again to the table where the Zak’reth coin rested.
“Why does it fascinate me so? Because of the war, I suppose.”
“Perhaps,” An-Lan said. “Or perhaps Oshkat
is speaking to you as well.” She took up the coin and pressed it into Selena’s hand. “If that is so, it is not my place to silence him.” She gripped Selena’s hand. “You keep that coin, child. You keep it and maybe Oshkat will be able to help you in a way that my Shaizan or your big moon cannot.”
“I shouldn’t. It’s not right. The Two-Faced God…I have pledged my service to it. I wear the Aluren blue and silver.”
An-Lan guided Selena to the door. The shop was still empty. Outside, the clouds were fat and dark, and the air smelt of more rain.
“What you consider the ‘lesser gods’ are gods nonetheless. Their power still exists in this world, child. And it is yours for the taking should you wish to use it.” An-Lan indicated the coin curled in Selena’s fingers. “They are there. Waiting.”
“What does it do? How do I use it?”
An-Lan inhaled deeply and when she exhaled, she opened her eyes. “My god tells me that things will become bad for you. A time when you will think all is hopeless and that your death or defeat is certain. I do not know how Oshkat will help you but I can tell you this: do not spend this coin. Not ever. “
Selena shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Go now, Selena Koren. A voyage awaits you. You are a beacon in the dark, child. The smoke spoke true and I see it with my own eyes. Be careful. In the night that is falling, we will need light such as yours.”
Selena turned to go. “Oh! But I haven’t paid you for the reading. Or the coin.”
“The coin of Oshkat is yours. It always belonged to you. It was waiting for you. I cannot charge for what was never mine to begin with.” She grinned. “For the reading, one doubloon, if you please. One gold doubloon. A lady has to keep shop in these rough times.”
Selena turned over the doubloon to An-Lan, though had someone told her she’d pay so much to an Uago seer that morning, she would have laughed at the notion.
“Thank you,” Selena said.
An-Lan touched her cheek. “Be safe, child.” The door closed behind her.
Selena stepped onto the boardwalk and glanced down at the coin in her hand. The rough edges bit into her skin. Whatever An-Lan had said, it didn’t feel right to carry it. Not now. Perhaps someday or perhaps never. She almost let it slip through her fingers, to let it land in the sand beside the boardwalk. Instead she tucked the coin into an inner pocket in her tunic and began to walk.