by Kerstin Hall
“Demi Anath is just beyond the exit of the pass.” Tyn brought Pax around the side of the wagon. She offered Vasethe her hand. “Want to see?”
He grasped her wrist and she pulled him onto her mount.
“Everything okay between you and the border keeper?” she asked under her breath.
“I’m still breathing.”
She snorted.
At the mouth of the crevasse, the light grew blinding and Demi Anath rose like a mirage before them. Great towers of sapphire and jade floated in the air, suspended by cascades of water that fell towards the sky. Rainbows danced between the liquid pillars, and white egrets wove between water and stone. Stairways tumbled with vines, and slim walkways traipsed the distance from spire to spire. Closer to the ground, the buildings were smaller and darker. A lush oasis of reeds and pools flourished in the city’s shadows.
“The verdict?” Vasethe asked Tyn.
“It satisfies my expectations,” she said, with a faint air of reluctance.
“The border keeper has gone on ahead, to request a private audience with Kan Buyak.” Lfae reined in a sleek silver d’wen beside Pax and nodded curtly to Vasethe. “We are to meet her at the convocation this evening. You will be attending as one of my spears.”
Vasethe nodded.
“The rest of my retinue will rejoin us in the city.”
The demon spurred the silver mount down the steep incline. “Come.”
Pax tossed her head and followed, finding sure footing amongst the sliding rocks. Demi Anath sat within a depression in the land, surrounded on all sides by cliffs and mountains.
Vasethe looked back at Lfae’s retinue, still emerging from the pass. Under Vehn’s watchful eye, the first wagon was through. Above her head, the cliff face was carved with thousands of egrets taking flight, individual feathers etched into the stone.
“Vasethe?”
He started and straightened in the saddle. “Yes?”
“What’s going on?” Tyn sounded troubled.
“What do you mean?”
“Res Lfae is worried. And angry. We wouldn’t normally rush like this, leaving the rest of the retinue behind. I don’t like it.”
He was quiet for a while. In Ahri, he had told Eris everything he could remember of the minor realm and the conversation he had heard in Umbakur. But if the border keeper had made sense of it all, she kept her conclusions to herself.
“I think someone wants to harm Eris,” he said. “But I don’t know how. And I’m worried that I might have helped them. Might still help them.”
Tyn elbowed him. “Have a little faith in yourself. You can fight back.”
By the time they reached the oasis, they found it bustling with rulers and their attendants. Many-legged demons flirted with gods of solid silver. A goddess sprouted acacia thorns from her arms; the breath of a wizened crone bloomed in flurries of ice. A demon with poetic verses stitched in black thread across his chest screamed at a cowering attendant. Swarms of flies clothed the body of a shaven god; occasionally, he picked one from his skin and ate it alive.
Lfae motioned for them to dismount at the edge of the reeds. The demon whispered to the silver-feathered d’wen, and it chittered, then headed back in the direction of the caravans. Pax followed.
The sultry air was filled with the whining of jewel-bellied mosquitoes, their complaints rising above the gentle hushing of the papyrus. Frogs croaked and weaver birds swooped to catch insects. A walkway covered in woven mats cut through the reeds, below the towers.
Lfae moved down it with assurance. No one paid them any attention. Shrieks and moans floated through the reeds, sounds of exaltation or pain. Vasethe found it difficult to tell the difference.
“How many rulers are coming to this convocation?” he muttered to Tyn.
“I’m not sure. Probably the first three hundred. Some rulers have ridiculously large retinues, though.”
A marble staircase led up to a broad deck fifty feet in the air.
“Our transport,” Lfae announced.
Teams of giant egrets waited on the platform, their talons wrapped around the bars of gilded silver cages. Each cage held two benches, the seats covered in plush green velvet. Tyn looked at the birds doubtfully but climbed inside a cage.
“There are still a few hours until the assembly begins. That leaves us with some time to assess the situation.” Lfae stepped into the closest cage and sat down. The ruler’s gaze swung towards Vasethe. “Remember not to eat or drink? You’ll need to stay focused. When a large group of rulers gather in one place, the effect can be intoxicating.”
Looking at the demon directly still made Vasethe dizzy. “I can imagine.”
The egrets shook out their feathers. With powerful downward strokes of their white wings, they took to the air. The cage swayed as it was lifted off the ground, and the oasis dropped away below them. Tyn gripped the sides of the bench and stared straight ahead, her jaw clenched.
“The three of us will attend the opening of the assembly alone,” Lfae continued. “You should be ignored, but remain watchful. We want to avoid trouble for now.”
The birds swooped between two columns of water, towards a mirror-bright tower of pale orange stone. In the light of the sunset, the unnatural waters turned crimson.
“There is one more thing,” the demon said.
“Yes?”
“I will not hesitate to kill you if you place the border keeper in danger.”
Tyn shivered.
“Understood,” said Vasethe.
The birds coasted onto a broad balcony near the top of the orange tower and brought the cage to a gentle halt. From this height, the crowds below were rendered invisible. Over the ridge of cliffs encircling the valley, Vasethe could see the wide expanse of the steppe, and the sea beyond. Pricks of shadow marked the sunken ships.
Lfae slid aside the partition that led into the tower. “Second Spear, I will require privacy for the next hour.”
“Yes, Res Lfae.”
Further partitions, painted with scenes of blue and grey mountains, divided the room into quarters. Lfae gave them a look of distaste and gestured; the screens folded and stacked into a corner. The chambers were sparse but elegant. A circular bed sat like the bud of a flower beneath tents of white gauze, and a long shelf ran along the interior wall, holding a variety of refreshments. Vases of chilled wine, and spiral-shaped confections that smelled of sea salt. Small bowls of crab meat.
“I’ll be meeting with a few rulers. I want you to speak to members of their retinues. Gauge the mood. Try to be discreet about Vasethe’s affiliation with the border keeper; Buyak will know that he is not part of my retinue, but who knows what other parties may take an interest.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I don’t doubt it.” The demon stepped forward and lightly kissed Tyn’s forehead. “Stay safe, Upstart.”
Tyn nodded respectfully, but her face glowed in the wake of her ruler’s affection. Vasethe’s heart sped up. He quickly looked away, but not before Lfae saw his expression.
Outside the demon’s chambers, the landing echoed with voices. A massive channel of rising water cut through the centre of the tower. Although clear glass panes kept the floors dry, the constant roar muffled and distorted all noise within the space.
Vasethe hurried to catch up to Tyn as she made for a set of descending stairs. “Not fond of heights?”
“What?”
“Back there, in the cage . . .”
“Oh.” She pulled a face. “Well, I don’t like them, but they won’t prevent me from carrying out my duties.”
The stairs led to an enclosed passage. The walls were smooth as river stones but undulating and organic, like internal organs. Lines like veins or scales ran beneath the polished surface of the stone. At bends in the passage, warped windowpanes let in the last of the sunlight.
They emerged on floor below. Tyn pointed at an armoured guard skulking around the doorway of another ruler’s chamber. “He’s one
of Kan Moi’s attendants,” she said. “Would you excuse me for a moment?”
“Sure.”
The guard did not have anything interesting to say, nor did the next four dwellers Tyn recognised and approached. Vasethe stayed out of her way, watching lights flicker and gleam in the city around him. He wanted to ask more questions but did not know where to start. When Tyn suggested that they return to Lfae, he stumbled for an excuse.
“Is something bothering you?” she asked.
“Sorry. I’m a little distracted.”
“Uh-huh. Try to lighten up, will you? We’re supposed to be going to a party.”
He forced a smile.
“Well, I guess that’s something,” she said, unconvinced.
“You seem rather relaxed about all of this.”
“I’m good at pretending. Not that this is the ideal realm for deception, but . . .”
Vasethe laughed. The sound echoed strangely in the close, winding passage. “Tell me, why do Lfae and the others call you ‘Upstart’?”
Tyn paused and seemed, for the first time, less than certain of herself. She was quiet.
“You don’t need to explain if it bothers you.”
She waved aside his concern. “It normally takes about eight years to reach the position of Second Spear. I did it in five, so Vehn said I must have seduced Res Lfae. The joke got out. Even though I’ve been Second Spear for a year now, the name stuck.”
“So, you’ve been in Mkalis for six years?”
“Around six years, yes. It was disorientating at first, so I don’t remember much from back then.”
Lfae was getting dressed when they returned. The demon had a ridge of scar tissue that extended from their right shoulder to the small of their back. They made no efforts to cover their nudity when Vasethe walked through the door. He muttered an apology and waited out on the balcony while Tyn advised on colour pairings between Lfae’s jewellery and dress, and reported back on her conversations with other attendants.
“My meeting was a similar exercise in futility.” Lfae sighed. “We can only hope that Midan has been more successful.”
Tyn murmured assent.
Vasethe leaned over the balcony outside, his nose filled with the too-sweet smell of honeysuckle and narcissus. He searched the dark skies, egrets rising above the highest tower. The night was filled with the sounds of distant revelry.
“Are you ready, Vasethe? The festivities will begin soon,” called Tyn.
He turned and went inside.
Chapter Sixteen
THEY ARRIVED LATE. A throng of gods and demons blocked the entrance to the hall, and the air buzzed with anticipation. In their finery, the rulers reminded Vasethe of a shoal of glittering fish.
He stood to Lfae’s left, Tyn to the right, and they waited on the stairs outside. There were no balustrades, and Tyn kept her eyes fixed on the crowd ahead, away from the looming drop beside her. Her expression was grim but resolute; she looked like she would sooner die than admit her discomfort to Lfae. A blindfolded praise singer followed directly behind them, loudly extolling the demon’s virtues. The woman had spent the last twenty verses describing Lfae’s prowess in battle and gave no sign of slowing. Similar chanters stood in the shadows of the other rulers.
At last the crowd thinned and they were able to see the entrance hall. Solid gold pillars ran in two columns along the length of the room, and rulers milled between them. White-masked servants circled, bearing vases of amber wine, and the smell of food wafted through the air, mingling with perfume and incense. A man sang to the booming of drums. Occasionally, it sounded as though he was screaming.
“Stop looking for her,” Lfae said out of the side of their mouth.
Vasethe jumped.
“We are being watched, so try to be less obvious,” said the demon, with a hint of exasperation.
The crowd blocking the door dispersed, and they were able to move more freely. Lfae swept towards one of Buyak’s servants and selected two drinks served in tiny bronze cups.
“Kan Qi,” they called. “I see that you lack a drink.”
A shatteringly gorgeous god turned around, hearing his name. His half-naked body was painted with a luminous substance, so that the designs of rabbits and orchids glowed bluish white in the warm light. His praise singer adjusted her position to remain behind him.
“Res Lfae, I see that you have two.”
Vasethe tried to mimic Tyn’s behaviour, eyes down, face blank, hands folded at the waist. Lfae and Qi began an animated conversation about people and places that he had never heard of, and his attention soon wandered. Guests were pairing up and dancing. A fight broke out but was stopped before it even interrupted Lfae’s discussion of High politics.
Qi’s only attendant was a cloaked child, who stood still as a stone. Vasethe found that looking at the child was difficult; his eyes drifted away every time he tried, distracted by something else in the room. At long last, the praise singers fell silent. They bowed and left.
“Our host is yet to make an appearance,” said Qi.
Lfae shrugged. “His loss. If nothing else, I find the company excellent.”
“You flatterer.”
Sethe?
Vasethe fought to keep his expression neutral. Relief surged through him.
Tell Lfae to meet me at the base of the rear stairway.
Vasethe glanced at Tyn; he did not know the correct protocol to request Lfae’s attention. She was gazing at the dancers, her lips slightly parted.
“Lfae, one of your attendants looks uncomfortable and the other bewitched,” said Qi.
Tyn flinched and closed her mouth.
“They are both new to this.” The demon sighed and looked at Vasethe. “Well?”
“I believe that someone over there wishes to speak to you,” he said under his breath.
“At least that one has sharp eyes.” Qi bowed to Lfae, pressing three fingers to his lips. “I hope to see you later?”
“Perhaps I will find your accommodations.”
“Perhaps.” Qi smiled, and turned to greet a smiling goddess.
“She wants to meet you by the rear staircase,” whispered Vasethe.
“She must like you if she’s using telepathy to communicate.” The demon dropped their cup onto a tray. “This way.”
They skirted the dance floor, Lfae fending off the advances of eager admirers. Tyn looked angry, glaring at the ground. Vasethe brushed her hand. She shook her head and walked faster.
Over here.
Vasethe looked towards the voice.
Eris leaned against a gold column. Her hair was pulled back from her face by a band of delicate bronze leaves, and she wore a flowing dress, loose around her legs, high at the neck, her back exposed. The midnight blue fabric shimmered and rippled when she moved, the suggestion of dark waters.
His expression must have amused her, because she smiled. He suddenly found it difficult to breathe.
“Lfae?” she called.
“Ah, there you are,” said the demon. “Enjoying the party?”
“Buyak refused my request for passage into the disconnected realm.”
Lfae frowned. “Unwise.”
She dropped her gaze. “I could scarcely believe that he would dare to say no.”
“Cheer up, Midan. Surely, you can force the issue? It’s not like you lack ammunition.”
She shook her head. “That’s just it. It’s too obvious. All the coincidence, all the provocation. I feel like he wants me to use that ammunition.”
“Would you like me to do it?”
“I don’t want you to disappear like Kstille did.”
“May I remind you that I am higher-ranked than Buyak?”
“But I don’t know who his allies are, Lfae. Don’t do stupid things on my account.”
The demon’s expression softened. “Border keeper, I would do almost anything on your account.”
Eris grimaced and straightened. “I’m going to get some fresh air. May I borrow a
n attendant?”
Lfae inclined their head. “If you feel that is wise.”
“Sethe.” She jerked her head towards the back of the hall.
Guests parted to let her through, their eyes filled with something between fear, hatred, and respect. Vasethe kept to her heels.
The chamber beyond led to a greenhouse, and from there to another balcony. Eris strode past gods murmuring to one another in quiet corners. Lanterns hung between plum trees, and small bells tinkled in the higher branches.
The balcony was unoccupied. Eris slowed. She rested her elbows on the balustrade.
“This is another occasion where I could see the attraction of alcohol.”
“Eris?” He hung back, giving her space.
“I thought nothing would change. I stayed in Ahri for four hundred years, and I thought that nothing would change. Now even rulers outside the first hundred are openly opposing me, sneering at me . . .”
“Eris.” He laid a hand on her arm.
She fell quiet. He leaned on the balustrade beside her.
“I am not sure what to do,” she said softly.
“What do you want to do?”
“Snap Buyak’s head off.” She scowled at the city. “If I don’t have their respect, then I will have to earn their fear. The rulers, I mean.”
“Because you have to keep them in line?”
She nodded. A dragonfly perched on the edge of the balustrade.
“Left to their own devices, well, the Demonic Wars happen. That much death, it’s . . .” She trailed off, lost in old memories. “I won’t let it happen again, but I’m just so tired.”
“I want to help you.”
A smile touched her lips. “You already have.”
He snorted. “By letting you suffer a hex I’m too weak to endure. By dragging you into this mess.”
She nudged him. “You’d know if I was lying.”
“Clearly, it’s a subjective truth.”
“So stubborn.” She rested her head against his arm, and Vasethe’s heart skipped a beat.
“You’re one to talk,” he muttered.