The Phoenix of Kiymako

by Ashley Capes

“What did your thugs give me?” Never asked. His mouth tasted of ash.

  The humming stopped. “Enough to ensure your cooperation, nothing more.”

  “How solicitous of you.”

  “Of course – you are quite valuable, even if your blood is not so potent as Ayuni’s.”

  “Where is she?” Never demanded.

  Hiruso turned, revealing a raised eyebrow. “No concern for yourself then?”

  Now Never smiled, but it was a cold smile and he leant forward as far as he could manage, a bare gesture only. “You’ve already told me I am useful, so you clearly do not plan to kill me, which is more than I can say for my intentions toward you.”

  “Such spirit. Or stubbornness, perhaps.” The monk swam across to where a towel waited, then rose, water streaming from his body – that of a seemingly much younger man ‒ and wrapped himself in it before approaching the bed. Even his face appeared younger than before. At the bed, he took a stool and gestured to Never. “Yet your circumstances are hardly conducive to grand revenge.”

  “You don’t hold every surprise.”

  “Don’t I?” he chuckled. “You are of course, bluffing.”

  “Only until I’m not,” Never said, yet it was bravado and no more. He had no weapons, no way to free his blood and more, he was bound and at a distinct disadvantage before Brother Hiruso’s lunai, his strange defiance before the ravages of age.

  “Well, in the meantime, let’s share some information, shall we?”

  “I see. Now we get to pretend we’re just having a mutually beneficial chat.”

  Hiruso’s brows drew together in a deep frown. “I am not pretending when I say you are not as useful as you perhaps think.”

  “Then why not just kill me, old boy.”

  “You cannot goad me into unleashing your blood, surely you know that.”

  “Because you are afraid.”

  Hiruso laughed.

  Never only grinned at the monk. “You are afraid – you’re afraid to die. Why else would you use Ayuni’s blood to recapture youth and extend your lifespan.”

  Brother Hiruso’s laugh took on a strained note for just a moment – so swift Never might have missed it had he not been waiting for it – but the man did not stop, did not lash out and nor did he acknowledge Never’s barb, despite the way it had struck something of a chord. “Is that the limit of your vision?”

  “It would seem so – but spare me your fanciful plans in any event. What do you think I can tell you?”

  “Can you not guess?”

  He could indeed. “You seek another sibling.”

  “Yes,” Hiruso hissed. “If any exist as your father insinuated.”

  “And your offer?” Never kept his voice free of doubt; not too difficult considering his anger. Yet was Hiruso’s passion born of certainty or hope? Father had not left behind other children. Never’s own surety, that which he’d shared with Ayuni only yesterday, teetered momentarily.

  “The truth about your father’s time here in Kiymako,” Hiruso said as he stood. “Allow me to give you the peace to think upon what you might gain simply by co-operating a little now.”

  The man walked across the room and to a door set in a deep recess, leaving without another word.

  Never ground his teeth.

  Bastard.

  Somehow, it had all gone wrong in Okana. Had it been the Hammers who’d caught him? There had been at least two of them and they’d been well-prepared. What didn’t make sense was how they’d known to be waiting in Okana at all. Had it been as Wanatek suggested? That Brother Hiruso was able to sense Never nearing?

  Perhaps, it fit neatly enough with the man happening to be in the south-eastern village in time for Never’s landing on Kiymako.

  And if so, it seemed the monk could have pounced at any time during his travels. Why hold back? The obvious answer was that Hiruso had been waiting for Never to separate himself from Muka and Ayuni. So the monk did consider them a threat, after all, he’d arranged for the Hammers and had not appeared to challenge Never, Ayuni and Muka together.

  More, the collection, drugging and transportation was another action that spoke to the lie in the man’s words when he claimed Never was not so important.

  Hiruso wanted more than knowledge of any surviving siblings.

  The surface of the clear pool had long-since grown still when the skylight began to darken. Never had not come up with any other motives. At least, no reasons other than blood. Perhaps once he caught the muffled echo of footfalls beyond the nearest wall but nothing else until full dark, when a woman in a temple robe approached, her hood pushed back to reveal greying hair. She was thin – even bony – but she approached with a warm smile that banished the hint of austerity, holding a steaming bowl on a tray.

  Never’s stomach rumbled.

  “Sounds like your stomach has been eating of itself in the absence of sustenance,” she said.

  “Lamentably.”

  “Let me,” she said, taking Hiruso’s stool. She set the tray across her knees and lifted a spoonful of stew, meat and peppers visible in a rich brown gravy. “I had it prepared as befitting an outsider. I hope it is suitable?”

  Without any choice, Never opened his mouth and took a bite. It was good, as good as anything he’d had back home. “Thank you, Sister.”

  “It is a glad duty.” She met his eyes, giving him a look of some... urgency? Then she spooned some sauce onto the tray and began writing with the spoon. Already the letters were running together – but the word was clear enough. Friend. Written in Marlosi.

  Never looked up. The sister was lifting another spoonful to his mouth, which he ate.

  “I am Sister Sikoka. Brother Hiruso has asked that I attend to you while you have been given time to reflect.”

  He chewed the mouthful but did not taste the food this time. Sikoka? The sister who’d looked after Ayuni! “I hate to burden you this way – since I am actually highly skilled at operating eating utensils and have been for some years, something I’d be most happy to demonstrate for you.” He kept his tone light, but his eyes posed a question.

  “I suspect that decision is above my role,” Sister Sikoka said. She spilled more stew and wrote two words now: Tomorrow then Night.

  “I suspected as much.”

  “Well, you’re not my only responsibility, so let’s keep eating before it gets cold,” she said.

  He nodded and continued the slow process of being fed. Once the stew was nearly done, Sikoka took the last of the gravy and wrote a final word – Ayuni, then smiled when she did so.

  A bit of tension seeped from his body, replaced by a warmth that probably had as much to do with his relief as the hot food in his stomach.

  Sister Sikoka offered another, smaller smile as she left.

  Never let his head fall back against his pillow – perhaps a small mercy that he even had one – and prepared for a long wait. Sister Sikoka seemed trustworthy even if Never couldn’t shake the memory of his conversation with Ayuni. Hard to ignore the feeling that Sikoka ought to have done more to protect Ayuni in the past... but maybe the older woman was going to atone now.

  It was clear that the monk knew she was taking a serious risk.

  And clear also that Hiruso had some way of listening in on whatever was said in Never’s sparse prison.

  But if Pacela was handing out merciful acts then she had exceeded herself this night if Ayuni, and presumably Muka too, were truly safe.

  “I hope I’m next, Sweet Lady.”

  Chapter 29

  Someone in the temple had affixed wheels to a chair, much like the arrangement the Bleak Man had, allowing Never to be tied in place and then pushed throughout the stone halls of Yalinamo Divine Temple – by Brother Hiruso himself.

  The man seemed content simply to act as Never’s chaperone, as he nodded to
the occasional Brother or Sister, who passed quietly in their green robes, some carrying water while others, baskets of produce.

  The interior of the place was mostly stone but potted plants of baby pine, fir, and bamboo lined the corridors. Some pots were huge; tall enough to reach Never’s chest had he been standing and from them grew flowers arranged in pleasing splashes of pinks, blues and yellows. It brightened the temple – a floral facade for dark motives.

  Tall windows let ample light into the building. Within each window alcove stood a bird carved in stone, wings spread as if about to thrust up from the earth. Each one bore a slightly different pose, so that, had he been sprinting by and watching the windows, the bird might have appeared to have been raising its wings.

  “To symbolise that any rebirth is gradual,” Brother Hiruso explained, doubtless having noted the direction of Never’s gaze.

  Never grunted.

  “Let me show you something that will perhaps lighten your mood,” Brother Hiruso said. He turned down a dark passage, the wheels bumping over an uneven section of stone. At the other end, light grew to reveal a vast, open courtyard containing the biggest vegetable patch Never had seen indoors. The patch, in turn, was lined with citrus trees and between them, evenly-spaced barrels for water and what seemed to be some manner of powdery growing-aid, based on the way monks spread it around the plants.

  Other monks bent over the vegetables, placing braces of tomato or heads of spinach into woven baskets while others tended to the plants by checking the leafs for pests or sometimes the sturdiness of posts and string. Despite the size of the Divine Temple, which he was only able to make educated guesses at, the amount of produce that could be harvested was more than enough for the monks.

  “You want to convince me that you care deeply for the people of the city because you feed some of them with this? Consider my mood lightened, like the very sun itself.”

  “No. Not to convince. Your understanding of what we do for those we must care for is quite immaterial,” Hiruso said. “Instead, I want you to look – tell me, do they not seem at peace?”

  “You want me to read minds now?”

  “They are safe, and they take pride in their work. Worse lives can be led.”

  “And how much of that safety is paid for by Ayuni’s blood?”

  Brother Hiruso gripped a handful of Never’s hair with a hiss. “Fool! Close your mouth that you might still your words long enough to hear the truth. This,” he waved his other hand at the garden, “could be her life, that is what I am offering should you reveal what you know. Ayuni could be free of her burdens. You hold that power.”

  “Only one person holds the blame for keeping her here for their personal gain – let’s guess who, shall we?”

  Hiruso backhanded Never, eyes blazing.

  The blow split his lip. Blood filled his mouth and set his jaw to ringing, an ache spreading immediately. Still, it seemed the monk had held back.

  Gasps rose from those nearest and workers stopped, looking up, faces confused or unnerved.

  Never flashed a bloody grin at Hiruso. “Now, now, Brother. Let’s not upset your happy little garden.”

  Hiruso wrenched the chair around and wheeled Never back into the dark corridor. “Your obstinate nature is growing most tiresome.”

  “Try sleeping strapped to a bed.”

  The monk stopped and walked around the chair to face Never, his jaw set. “I will not offer such leniency again.”

  “You would have me doom another to take her place.”

  “Ayuni has borne the burden long enough.”

  Never only shook his head. He stared back at the man in the dim light a long moment before answering. “You will have my reply in the morning,” he said.

  “I did not expect to wait.”

  “I only wish to give you enough time to produce the evidence I need.”

  “It is I that will be asking for evidence, Amouni.”

  “Yet all I can offer is my desire to protect Ayuni, wouldn’t you say?” And it seemed that the man had already attempted to glean whatever he could via Never’s blood. Perhaps that taught Hiruso that Snow was already dead?

  It seemed the only reason Hiruso would attempt threats and coercion.

  And still Never couldn’t shake a lingering doubt; it badgered him each time Hiruso raised the possibility of more Amouni. Where did the man’s certainty come from? Had Father said something? Lied to further his own cause? That seemed entirely possible. Perhaps Sikoka would know.

  The monk folded his arms. “And your proof?”

  “Send the Three Hammers to the capital – call them off, either that or show me that Ayuni and Muka are well.”

  Brother Hiruso moved back to take the handles on the back of Never’s chair, resuming their walk.

  “You have neither,” Never said.

  “Something which can be corrected at any time,” the man replied. “But I will consider your request while you recall my promise. Ayuni freed from her burden, Muka lives and you are free to leave, all for the price of another sibling. By dawn, I will know everything and if I suspect a lie, you will be harvested to the very last drop.”

  ***

  When Sister Sikoka came once more to feed him, it was later than the previous evening. Full dark had fallen beyond the window of his cell – a well-appointed but still locked room. And as before, he had spent his time tied in place, which continued to drive home the notion that forced rest was not restful at all.

  Despite the promise of possible escape, Never had fought against his bonds earlier but they were too comprehensive – severely limiting his movements. He might have bit his lip to get some blood flowing again, but without a cut on his captors, it was folly and he didn’t believe crimson-fire was something he could breathe.

  “I must be swift,” Sister Sikoka said as she wheeled a trolley into the room, closing the door. A long black blanket covered the trolley, the material looked quite heavy.

  “Did Ayuni send you?” Never asked.

  Sikoka produced a knife and began slicing through the restraints. “And Mukatagami. Softly now.”

  He lowered his voice. “Are they safe?”

  “As can be in these dark times – they will find you when we’re done.” She’d finished his legs and he flexed his muscles as she started on the straps binding his arms and torso.

  “And what of you?” he asked.

  “Carrying the dead is one of my duties and by the time anyone realises you are gone, I, too, will be away.” She sawed through the final leather strap. “There.”

  He rose to a sitting position, a welcome freedom. “Carrying the dead?”

  “Yes, all you have to do is lay still.”

  “I see.” He hesitated. “Brother Hiruso strikes me as rather stubborn.”

  Sikoka shook her head as she lifted the sheet. “Don’t worry for me, you just look after that girl.”

  He hoped she was right. “I will. What next?”

  “You get beneath this blanket and I take you to the crematory. When you pass through, they will be waiting for you beyond the Harvest Garden.”

  He stretched across the trolley. “I hope you remembered to fire-proof this linen.”

  “The fires will not touch a hair on your head. Now hush.”

  She pushed him toward the door and he relaxed, forcing his breathing to remain shallow. Keeping him strapped down probably would have been better for achieving stillness but he didn’t complain.

  The wheels were smooth, barely a squeak as Sikoka wheeled him down the dim corridors. Several times, light bloomed beyond his blanket, but it did not last; it seemed few lamps were lit of an evening. Once, she offered a greeting to someone, who returned it softly, but the trolley did not stop.

  The hum of many voices soon grew louder and beneath it, the click of wood against wood, providing the
rhythm to what was some manner of wordless song. A celebratory tone suggested a happy moment.

  Sister Sikoka came to a halt when they reached a point where the song grew so loud that it became clear the trolley was now adjacent from whatever was occurring. A celebration or ceremony? Never ignored an itch on his forearm. They were obviously close enough to be seen by those within, yet hopefully whatever was happening was too sacred for wandering gazes, a possibility suggested by Sikoka coming to a halt.

  The echo spoke of a vast room of stone and as the song faded away, the sound of soft-clad footfalls filled a reverent hush, the swish of many robes going with it. When that eased, the faint crackle of flame, as from across a hall, took its place.

  Brother Hiruso’s voice rang out, resonant with paternal warmth. “We welcome you, former Acolytes, to the midnight hour and the first moments of a new day, the first moments of your rebirth as full Brothers and Sisters of the Phoenix.” A long pause followed. “Now, remove your collars, those which have served you throughout each year of your preparation, and cast them into the fire.”

  More swishing of robes and a change in the crackle of flames.

  “May the Phoenix watch over you as you watch over the people of Kiymako,” Hiruso said.

  A cheer rose and then the rest of the crowd joined it – a fair number by the volume, and Sikoka started the trolley moving once more. The song receded and when she had to stop and lift the trolley to navigate a particularly narrow turn, she spoke.

  “I had hoped to miss the ceremony, but it seemed we nattered on too much.”

  “Will Hiruso send someone after us?” He kept his voice soft.

  “If he does, it won’t be at once. His duties extend into the morning; he will stay and speak with each new Brother and Sister about their First Pledge.”

  “Giving us how much time?”

  “He will finish before dawn.”

  “And now?”

  “A little ways further to the crematory.”

  Sister Sikoka encountered no-one else in the quiet halls and at one point she picked up speed, wheels rattling.

  “Ah...?”

  “Hush. I just need to build up a little momentum.”