Blood Solace (Blood Grace Book 2)
Page 44
“Tell me about them,” she invited.
He pointed ahead and upward. “Do you see that star of exceptional brightness, due north?”
“I know that one. The Boreian Star. Sailors use it to navigate.”
“We call it the Truth Star, and we swear on it when we testify. It is the eye of the constellation Alatheia.”
“Alatheia had only one eye?”
“Yes.” Eudias, too, stared north. “The Order of Anthros’s inquisitors put the other out when she refused to recant. She was the first mage of Hespera they burned on the Akron’s Altar.”
Lio turned to face the mage. “As uncomfortable as it is for you and I to discuss this with one another, here beneath her star, I want to express my respect for what you have just said. You have delivered the facts of her history, nothing more, nothing less. However our opinions on her may differ, confronting the truth of the past is where we must begin.”
“We too have a Truth Star of sorts.” Eudias gestured at Benedict’s amulet.
Benedict weighed the talisman in his hand, eying Lio. “We swear by Andragathos, the Seventh Scion, the most honest of the gods, that he may strike down any who lie or deceive others as to their true nature.”
Cassia quickly turned in a different direction. “What constellations are in that part of the sky?”
Lio ignored Benedict’s glare and pointed to another formation on the horizon. “Is that cluster of stars familiar to you?”
“No,” she answered. “Tenebrans have no name for it that I know of.”
“That constellation is known to us as the Faithful Traveler. It represents Queen Soteira’s late husband, the man she loved in her mortal life. He journeyed all over the Empire at her side, acting as her bodyguard while she took her healing arts to any who needed her. He gave his life in her defense.”
“I am so sorry for her loss. I’m glad she has such a beautiful way to remember him.”
“One of your Queens was married?” Benedict ventured.
“Yes,” Lio answered.
Benedict cleared his throat. “Then perhaps we ought to lay some of the unfortunate gossip about her to rest.”
“What gossip is that, Sir Benedict?” Lio asked.
“That she, that is…that the two of them are…”
“I think,” Cassia said carefully, “we ought to all rejoice for Queen Soteira that she has risen above such a tragic past and found good fortune in her current partner. She and Queen Alea are very happy together, by all accounts.”
“The happiest in Orthros,” Lio replied. “Our land is blessed with the reassurance of a strong royal line. Our Queens have eight children, most of whom have already founded bloodlines of their own with many descendants.”
Benedict looked like he’d swallowed his amulet. Cassia bit back a sigh.
“Look there.” Lio pointed straight overhead. “Do you see those eight stars? The brightest one might mark an uplifted hand, and those in line below it a Prismos’s robe.”
Cassia craned her head back. “I see the pattern.”
“That is Anastasios, who was Prismos of Hagia Boreia, the Great Temple of the North. He was one of the first eight Hesperines, whose magic made our kind possible when they performed the Ritual through which the Goddess created us.”
Benedict looked from the constellation to Eudias. “Perhaps you can educate us better on this history.”
“Well, actually, no,” Eudias replied. “I cannot fault the Ambassador’s presentation of the facts. It is known among all the Orders that the eight most powerful mages of the Great Temples of Hespera discovered the secret of immortality. The only difference between the Anthrian and Hesperine accounts would be whether that ritual was considered an unholy rite or a sacred one.”
“I am naturally biased in my view,” Lio said. “It was Anastasios who discovered that the eight Ritual firstbloods could give their blood to others to pass on their newfound power. He was a healer who could not bear to lose a single patient. When one of his own mages lay dying in his care, in desperation he shed his own blood in an attempt to save him. That mage was the first ever to receive the Gift, as every Hesperine has since. His name is Apollon, and I am his son. Anastasios was my foregiver, and his constellation is the sign of my bloodline.”
The revelation silenced Benedict and turned Eudias’s eyes large. Cassia shivered, as if Lio’s words had conjured around her all the power he carried in his veins. She’d had an idea of the ancient magic in his blood, but had not known his bloodline’s history.
“Then you are the living legacy of a Great Temple,” she said. “Can we really say that age is past?”
“I hope Orthros will convince you it never ended. We have no temples in Selas, for when our founders laid the first stone of the city, they declared everything we built would be Hespera’s Sanctuary.”
A new chill curled about Cassia’s ankles. The cold manifested into a mist that hovered over the water and swept around the boats, sliding up over the deck to wrap soft and wet around all of them.
Soon the mist thickened into a dense fog that rose well above their heads and cut off their view of the surrounding ocean. The moonlight shone on one billow of fog after another, bringing strange shapes to life in the air, which then slid back into darkness.
Cassia breathed in the wet air, and her chest filled with anticipation. She felt comfort and promise in the fog and knew it was a spell. The winter wind picked up, making the sails snap above them, pulling Cassia’s hair and cloak northward, toward Selas.
Then the wind became an icy gust that sliced through every layer of Cassia’s clothes. She gasped, clutching her cloak about her, and huddled closer to Knight. Her teeth had no time to start chattering before a tall, warm body drew near, and two familiar hands emerged from the fog to drape another cloak around her shoulders. Lio pulled the hood up around her face, and she felt the brush of silk on her cheek.
“You may think this fabric too light to warm you,” he said, “but silk fibers are conducive to magic. A spell is woven into the threads that will protect you from any cold. Please accept these cloaks, gloves and shoes as gifts from my people. You will be unable to last long in Orthros without them. Anytime you are outdoors, you must wear these for the sake of your health.”
By the time he finished speaking, Cassia felt as warm as if she lay under a pile of fur blankets, drinking a goblet of spiced wine. Almost as warm as when Lio kissed her.
She burrowed in the soft garment. Lio slid the most delicate gloves onto her hands, warming her fingers between his. Then he knelt for a moment at her feet and, with speed only a Hesperine could manage, swapped her Tenebran winter boots for silk shoes so adroitly she barely felt the chill on her feet.
She couldn’t see anyone else, but she heard them moving about and fabric rustling. Perita and Callen’s voices joined the others. No one even suggested they shouldn’t accept magical gifts from the Hesperines.
The wind gusted again, but this time the biting cold didn’t reach into Cassia’s hood or under her hem. The fog roiled around her, and then it was gone.
She let out an exclamation of wonder. Gasps and murmurs of awe echoed across the water from every ship.
Ahead of them, a star had descended from the sky to hover over the water. Its rays reached across the sea like thorns of light.
“It is even more beautiful than the beacon at Waystar,” Cassia exclaimed. “What is it?”
“The Harbor Light, which guides all Hesperine travelers to shore.”
“It is a lighthouse in Selas?”
“You’ll see.”
She couldn’t take her eyes from the light. She wasn’t sure if they sailed toward it, or it pulled them forward. As she watched, a snowy coastline became visible in its glow. Then shapes beneath the Harbor Light—structures. The rooftops of Selas. Her first glimpse of the capital.
“We’re almost home,” Lio said.
The distant vision drew nearer and revealed details to Cassia. Selas was a long, pa
le city that rested around the entire rim of a deep bay, as if sipping from the ocean’s cup. The capital cast its glow high into the night sky like a shadow made of light, and Cassia realized not all of that came from the Harbor Light. There were colorful windows everywhere, one for each star in the sky above, it seemed.
Lio swept out his arm to indicate the bay. “Here is Harbor, where our people first made landfall in Orthros.”
As the ships slipped between the two arms of the bay, countless other vessels pulled alongside to escort them into Harbor. The entire surface of the water sparkled, reflecting the stars and the city and the stained glass lanterns of every color that adorned the boats. Cassia felt she was swimming in festival lights, preparing to dive into the glow of the Harbor Light mirrored in the center of the bay.
Lio stood closer. “This voyage is a rite of passage for every new Hesperine—the right of every new heir of the Goddess. Each of us founds Sanctuary anew when we land on these shores.”
Half a dozen towering silhouettes ringed the Harbor Light’s reflection. The ships pulled between the grand shapes, and Cassia saw they were in fact statues. Larger than life, six white marble Hesperines stood on pedestals in the bay, appearing to hover over the water.
They all seemed in motion, their hair lifted around their faces as if by the very wind that stirred Cassia’s, their feet raised as if they prepared to set foot in Orthros for the first time. She could see every hole and tatter in their robes. Their gazes were turned toward the shore and the future. As the vessels sailed among them, Lio pointed upward and named each in turn.
“Elder Firstblood Timarete, Gifted by Daedala who was Prisma of Hagia Zephyra. She is our greatest painter. Her eldest daughter Laskara is the sculptor whose work you see before you.
“Elder Firstblood Kitharos, Gifted by Thelxinos who was Prismos of Hagia Zephyra. He is our greatest musician, who keeps our songs and our history alive.”
The two firstbloods of Hagia Zephyra stood side-by-side, Kitharos with a lyre strapped to his back, Timarete with a bundle of brushes under her arm. A sash across the painter’s chest held pockets full of vials, pots and powders.
“Elder Firstblood Hypatia, Gifted by Ourania who was Prisma of Hagia Anatela. She is our greatest astronomer, who devised our clock and calendar.”
Hypatia was a solemn lady with a heavy pack on her shoulders that was filled to bursting with scrolls. She pointed the way with an astrolabe in hand.
“Elder Firstblood Argyros.” Lio’s voice was fraught with pride. “Gifted by Eidon who was Prismos of Hagia Anatela. He is our greatest diplomat—my uncle and mentor. Beside him stands Elder Grace Hippolyta, the Guardian of Orthros, Gifted by him in the darkest hours of the Last War. She crossed into Orthros in triumph at his side.”
Although Argyros’s hair hung loose only to his shoulders, his face appeared as ancient as ever. He arrived in Orthros carrying nothing, but his eyes gazed upon the new land with such vivid expression, it seemed the burden he bore was his wisdom. He held fast to Hippolyta’s hand. She wore a common woman’s tunica, its ends tucked into her belt to shorten it into a tunic. For shoes, she had only rags strapped to her legs. She stood with her feet planted, making her Stand.
“And there you see my father,” Lio said at last, with a loving glance for the sixth monument. “Elder Firstblood Apollon, whose history I have told you. He is our greatest architect, who planned this city and built many of its monuments.”
Cassia beheld a curly head and beard and broad shoulders. Apollon wore his temple robe open over nothing but a pair of braccae, revealing a powerful, muscular body. He swung a mason’s mallet in one hand and a chisel in the other as if he were ready to make war, not art. There was a look of zeal in his eyes she recognized.
“As you can see,” Lio added, “I don’t take after my father in many ways.”
“I beg to differ,” Cassia reminded him.
The ships carried them out from between the firstbloods, and Cassia saw whose back it was Apollon guarded. In the lead stood two more statues, one all white marble, the other deep black. The two women stood barefoot, holding each other up.
As the ships pulled ahead of them, Lio spoke again. “Ritual Firstblood Alea, once Prisma of Hagia Boreia. Ritual Grace Soteira, the great healer of the Empire. Now our Queens.”
Soteira, the Hesperines’ rescuing darkness, reached a hand out behind her, ready to catch any who stumbled. Alea, their light, gestured ahead, pointing the way.
“Hespera awaits you,” said Lio.
There was no lighthouse. The Harbor Light hovered between the Goddess’s upraised hands. The statue of Hespera was wrought of a black stone speckled with shining flecks of white. She wore nothing but her long hair, which draped and clung about her, concealing and outlining her body. With one blood-red eye and one pale eye, she gazed down upon the arriving ships. In her smile, Cassia saw an invitation to come see what she had prepared for them, to share with her the last laugh, to lay down their heads and rest at last.
As the ships docked at the Goddess’s feet, Lio smiled at Cassia. “Welcome to Orthros.”
Hespera's Invitation
Sailing into Harbor in Union with Cassia, Lio felt he was coming home for the first time. Her wonder was more beautiful to him than all the lights in the bay. He would get to spend night after night surprising her like this and sharing in her delight.
Later this very night, he could steal her away from the embassy and begin showing her Orthros without her retinue in the way. For now he escorted her down the gangplank at his side, although he had to allow Sir Benedict to be the one who took her arm.
“The founders first arrived here by magical means,” Lio said. “Now Harbor is where our ships embark and dock each year when we migrate to and from our southern home, Orthros Notou.”
Lio struggled not to smile at Cassia. She seemed entranced by the ships pulling in at every dock, the busy Hesperines ushering the embassy onto shore and most of all, by the Goddess herself.
Lio led Cassia and her retinue along the central dock at the base of Hespera’s statue. “Please, come with me up the steps and onto the avenue that runs the length of the docks. Here are the guest houses, which are particularly designed for mortal comfort. Out of consideration for our visitors, our geomagi keep the interiors of all buildings in the city warm enough to be safe for humans.”
Cassia looked up and down the way at the lodges and coffee houses. Her gaze traveled across their tracery, over their peaked arches and up their spires. “Iron and granite, marble and glass. I can see the power and delicacy of your people in these works. You house your guests in art.”
“Our crafters appreciate your kind praise.”
“Did your father build all of these, Ambassador?”
“He or those he has taught. His students have elaborated on his style and contributed their own innovations all over the city. However, you will be staying in one of my bloodline’s public works. Here is Rose House.”
The wrought iron doors swung open to welcome them. Lio did not have to encourage them to hasten into the warmth of the brightly lit entry hall.
“Rest assured,” Lio said, “the other lords and mages of your party will be staying just next door in the New Guest House, the four-hundred-year-old structure accessible via the gallery you see through that side door. To the king’s own representative, however, we offer our newest lodgings here in Rose House, which we finished only last year. The rest of the embassy will join us here presently for the welcoming ceremony in the main hall.”
Lio’s mother entered behind them with the next group of Tenebrans. The free lords crowded in, talking amongst themselves. Some of her initiates came forward to take everyone’s cloaks, curious and eager to perform the duties they had vied to be assigned. Sir Benedict and Callen barricaded themselves around Cassia, and Lio deemed it wise to let a young female Hesperine unburden her. The initiate gave Knight a wide berth, but he stood obediently at attention and made no aggressive moves.
“It was a struggle without your expert assistance, but I tried to do everything just as you have shown me.”
“That color is sure to make everyone recall who you are,” Perita approved. “I couldn’t have chosen better myself.”
“That is a high compliment indeed, my friend.”
Cassia had chosen an elaborate gown of royal purple velvet with pale purple accents and a leaf-green, embroidered belt. Lio could tell Zoe her hero had arrived in Orthros in a beautiful dress the color of her favorite flower. Later, he could tell Cassia how much the stunning sight of her in this moment meant to him.
The entry hall was filling up. Lio raised his voice and gave the Tenebrans a brief primer on Hesperine forms of address. Those who cared would need the reassuring crutch of courtesy.
It was time for Cassia’s group to go forward to make way for the other Tenebrans entering behind her. Now was Lio’s opportunity to get her inside the main hall well ahead of Chrysanthos for an encounter with the elder firstbloods that would be all her own.
Lio nodded to the initiates. They opened the inner doors without touching them. Out spilled the aromas of refreshments and the force of ancient auras.
When Cassia saw who awaited within, Lio sensed her brace herself. She beheld the elder firstbloods, her aura full of the same wonder she had experienced at the feet of their statues. Then she lowered her gaze, as if she could not bear to look upon them too long.
“Join us and be at your ease,” Lio said as they entered the crowded room. “The founders of Orthros are delighted to meet you. They and the firstbloods of every family are here tonight to bid you welcome.”
“I feel too small to stand in their company, Ambassador.”
“So does every young Hesperine. You should have seen me the last time I gave a speech before them.”
“They know and love you,” she protested, “one of their own.”