Old Dino dropped his empty mug on the table and wiped his beard with the back of his hand. “Luckily, we were with some kids who had Geniuses. They got us across the chasm before the statues could do us all in.”
Zanobius tensed. Ozo had been traveling with the children when he crossed the chasm. Could these men have been working for the mercenary who’d hunted him?
“How did the statues come alive?” Zanobius asked.
“Why’re you so interested, anyway?” Old Dino snapped, eyeing Zanobius with suspicion. “They friends of yours?”
Little Dino put a hand on his father’s arm, calming him. “The whole event was very traumatic for my father.” He smiled apologetically at Zanobius. “Probably best if we quit talking about it.”
Zanobius nodded his understanding. But he suspected that further questioning would confirm his hunch: somehow, Giacomo had unwittingly awakened the statues.
Old Dino leaned across the table, his voice becoming more agitated. “Who are you, anyway? I’ve never seen you in here before.”
“Dad, calm down.” Little Dino passed his mug to his father. “Here, have the rest of mine.”
Old Dino stared deep into Zanobius’s eyes. His voice dropped to just above a whisper. “They sent you, didn’t they?”
Zanobius wasn’t sure what Old Dino was getting at. “Nobody sent me. I’m just here looking for an old acquaintance.”
“Liar!” Old Dino shouted. He lunged across the table.
“Dad—”
Before Little Dino could stop him, his father pulled back Zanobius’s hood, exposing his marble-white skin.
“I knew it! You’re one of them!” Old Dino recoiled in horror and reached for something below the table. A second later, a scythe cut through the air, slashing Zanobius’s cloak clean off him.
“It’s the Tulpa!” Old Dino shouted, and the tavern suddenly fell silent. Everyone’s gaze locked on Zanobius. “It’s going to kill us all!”
Little Dino brandished a spear with a long, jagged blade that glimmered in the candlelight. Zanobius grabbed the edge of the table and lifted, tipping it into the Dinos and the men behind them. Zanobius barreled into bodies as he made his escape, stumbling into the street.
The tavern emptied behind him, and the drunken customers gave chase with shouts of “Monster!” and “Kill it!”
Hoping to avoid a fight, Zanobius ran toward the edge of town, but he found his path blocked by a group of surly pirates armed to the teeth. Though his plan had been to be captured, this was not how Zanobius had imagined it.
Zanobius batted away the jabbing swords and spear tips. The crowd closed in. The blades came faster. Zanobius fought off those closest to him, careful to pull his punches, but the sheer number of attackers soon overwhelmed him. Metal lanced his arms, his legs, his back.
Short of killing every man on the dock, Zanobius saw no way to save himself.
Thankfully, a man’s gruff, commanding voice came to his rescue. “Lay down your arms!”
“Why should we?” someone in the crowd shouted back.
“Because he’s worth more alive than he is dead!” the man roared.
The blades parted, and the assailants stepped back, making way for a thickset man with a shock of white hair that transitioned into a long black beard. Rings pierced his ears and nose.
“Can’t any of you ne’er-do-wells read?” He held up Zanobius’s wanted notice for all to see. “Says here, the Supreme Creator wants this Tulpa captured alive,” the bearded man said, his mouth spotted with gold teeth. He pointed to the pirates. “Chain him up and throw him in the hold.”
“Yes, Captain Wolff,” one of the pirates said.
Two other pirates shackled Zanobius’s wrists and ankles with cold metal cuffs and pulled him to his feet. Despite a few hiccups, the plan had worked. To make his capture seem convincing, Zanobius struggled against his chains, but he had no intention of breaking free. Not yet.
The pirates led Zanobius up the gangplank and onto the ship, where Captain Wolff now waited on deck. He leaned in and flashed a gold-flecked smile.
“Welcome aboard, Zanobius.”
22
LAMENT FOR THE LOST
“To get to the root of your fear, you must first sit with it,” Guru Yaday said.
Giacomo sat cross-legged in the grass opposite his new teacher, who had taken him into the gardens to meditate, hoping the fresh air would help clear his mind. But Giacomo was replaying his awkward encounter with Milena in his head. He had wanted to tell her more about his studies with Yaday, but she still seemed hurt about being replaced as his teacher. He figured she would disapprove anyway, so Giacomo had hurried away before she had been able to question him further.
Yaday picked up a small, two-headed drum that had a bead tethered to each side. As he spun the drum’s long handle, the stones beat out a steady rhythm, and Giacomo’s distracted thoughts immediately began to settle. “Breathe in … Breathe out…” Yaday said gently.
Giacomo closed his eyes and repeatedly traced the five sides of a shimmering pentagon, attempting to find focus and calm. Yaday had taught Giacomo a little about the pentagon—a symbol of the pentad—and how it was the most spiritual of all the forms because it urged the meditator to move away from the material world and tap into the infinite world within. Or something like that. Giacomo still didn’t grasp all of what Yaday had said, but if picturing a pentagon would help him deal with his fears, he was willing to give it a try.
The problem was, his imaginary line kept trailing off, squiggling this way and that. Giacomo re-formed the pentagon over and over until, finally, its shiny surface cast back his own image. He thought he was getting somewhere, but then his reflection began to transform—his skin turned marble white and his hair shortened, then his body sprouted two more arms and two more legs. The reflection lunged forward, shattering the pentagon.
Giacomo gasped, startling himself from his meditation.
“What did you see this time?” Yaday asked.
Giacomo reached out his finger so Mico could land on it. He stroked the tuft of hair that sprouted from the top of his Genius’s crown. “Someone I’ve been trying to forget.”
“A friend?”
“His name is Zanobius,” Giacomo said. “He’s also a Tulpa.”
Giacomo wished Zanobius was with him now, and not only because two Tulpas against Vrama would be better than one. Zanobius was the only one in the world who could truly understand what Giacomo was going through.
“Another Nirmita?” Yaday said, sounding surprised. “Why didn’t he come to Rachana with you?”
Giacomo explained the violent events that had led to Zanobius’s departure. “Even though it was Zanobius’s decision to leave, Milena and Savino wanted him gone,” Giacomo said.
“And you’re afraid they’ll turn on you, like they did on Zanobius?” Yaday asked.
As soon as Yaday said it, Giacomo realized the truth in the guru’s words. “I guess I’m scared I’m going to end up alone again,” Giacomo admitted.
“I understand,” Yaday said. “Now, settle your breathing, and sit with that fear some more.”
But the meditation was cut short when a pained whinny pierced the air, sending a chill through Giacomo. Mico let out a startled squawk.
“Not again…” Yaday shot up from the grass, and Giacomo scrambled after him. Together, they headed in the direction of the sound, hurrying out of the gardens.
They reached the main path in front of the palace, where they came upon a horse-Genius that had collapsed next to one of the reflecting pools. Giacomo froze, an ache in his chest, while Yaday shouted to some warriors at the top of the palace steps, and they immediately ran inside.
The Genius’s wings lay limp across the grass, its breaths coming in labored snorts. A gold-armored warrior dropped to his knees and cradled the horse-Genius’s head in his lap. Giacomo wished there was some way to help the animal. But there was nothing he could do.
People began to appea
r from all corners of the fortress to see what had happened. Ajeet descended the palace steps, panic spread across his face.
The samraat pushed his way through the growing crowd and went to the warrior’s side. The horse-Genius let out a heavy exhale, then fell still.
The gem on the horse-Genius’s armor glowed, its light cocooning around the Genius’s body until it had formed a luminescent second skin. A tinkling sound rang out, then the Genius’s light-body began to come apart, transforming into radiant particles that floated off in the wind. Within minutes all that remained of the once noble creature was its diamond-shaped gem and a glimmering trail eddying across the purple-and-orange sky. With tears in his eyes, the warrior picked up the large gem and cradled it in his hands.
Ajeet bowed his head and placed a fist over his heart. The other warriors mirrored him. As the palace bells chimed, Ajeet helped up the warrior in gold and led him down the path, the crowd following. Giacomo trailed behind the Rachanans’ somber procession.
As the tenth bell tolled, they all stopped at the fortress gates. Warriors lit two pyres, one on each side of the archway, and the fire’s heat washed over them. Savino, Milena, Aaminah, and Pietro made their way through the crowd and over to Giacomo. “We heard a Genius died,” Aaminah said, sounding worried.
“I saw it,” Giacomo said. “It was so horrible.”
Aaminah let out a stifled sob. Milena pulled her in and gave her a comforting hug, and then they turned to watch the ceremony.
Beneath the archway, the warrior faced Ajeet. He took off his helmet and then, piece by piece, he removed the rest of his armor until he was garbed in only a white tunic, brown pants, and sandals. Lastly, he held his katar flat across both palms and kneeled, offering the weapon to the samraat. The warrior, who had appeared so majestic and powerful in his armor, now looked so … ordinary.
From inside his robes, Yaday pulled out what looked like an animal bone and raised it to his lips. He blew on one end, trumpeting a wavering cry. Then he spun his two-headed drum, tapping out a steady beat. He recited a long, songlike prayer in Rachanan, and everyone bowed heads. Giacomo followed their lead.
Waves of sorrow coursed through Giacomo as he grieved not only for this horse-Genius, but also for all the Geniuses, both in Rachana and back home, that had been forced from this world too early. Soon, Nerezza would pay for her role in the demise of the bird-Geniuses. But right now, the dire threat was Vrama.
He needs to be stopped, Giacomo vowed.
When Yaday finished, the gates swung open and, speaking softly in Rachanan, Ajeet called on the man to rise. With his gem cupped in his hands, the man walked toward the blazing orange sun, leaving the fortress and his fellow warriors behind.
As the crowd scattered, Giacomo approached Yaday. “Where is that warrior going?”
The guru explained that when a Genius dies, a purification ritual is performed to help the warrior shed the shell of who they once were and embark on a journey to the Sacred Lands, at the outer edges of the empire. “There, the gods will watch over the warrior as he makes a new home among others who have suffered the same fate,” Yaday said.
Other Lost Souls. Giacomo shivered despite the heat.
“You just kick them out?” he asked. “It seems so cruel.”
“It sounds much nicer than how Lost Souls have historically been treated in Zizzola,” Pietro commented. “At least here, you get to keep your Genius’s gem. And you get a proper send-off.”
“Yes, it’s meant to be an honor and an important rite of passage,” Yaday said.
Samraat Ajeet called everyone over. “I’ve informed Lavanthi to ready her warriors. We leave for the caldera in the morning.”
Yaday glanced over at Giacomo, then back to Ajeet. “But Giacomo and I—”
“I’ll be ready,” Giacomo said, stepping forward.
“Excellent,” Ajeet said.
“What about us?” Savino asked, gesturing to Milena and Aaminah. “Are we going on the mission too?”
“I need to speak with Lavanthi further,” Ajeet said. “I’ll announce who will be joining me tonight. We’ll be holding a ceremonial feast.” Ajeet and Lavanthi strode back toward the palace.
Yaday pulled Giacomo away from his friends and whispered to him, “Why did you tell the samraat you’re ready? We both know you’re not. There’s still a final step to the meditation I haven’t even told you about.”
“It’s a week’s journey to the caldera, right?” Giacomo said. “That should give you plenty of time to teach me more on the way.”
“Are you sure about this?” Yaday said, his voice tinged with concern.
“Absolutely,” Giacomo assured him, though in fact he was not sure at all.
23
A FEAST AMONG GODS
Upon returning to her room, Milena found a beautiful dress spread out on the bed, its hundreds of tiny inlaid beads shining. Her friends had also been gifted with new garments, which they were instructed to wear to the ceremonial dinner.
As day turned to dusk, the newly attired group gathered under the lanterns in the courtyard, where a cadre of guards waited to escort everyone to the palace.
The door to Pietro’s room swung open and he walked out, leaning on a new cane with a gold handle. He wore long, brightly colored robes.
“Master Pietro, you look very dignified,” Milena said.
Pietro ran his hand down the front of his robe. “Why, thank you. This silk feels magnificent. And so much more breathable than my old wool robes.”
Aaminah tugged at her golden dress. She tripped over its hem and stumbled. “How does anyone walk in these things?”
“Slowly and gracefully,” Milena advised, sauntering past. “You look beautiful, by the way.”
Aaminah grimaced. “Pfft, I feel ridiculous.”
Savino adjusted his blue hat. “How do I look?” he asked, fishing for a compliment.
“Like that hat’s too small for you,” Giacomo said, buttoning his orange-and-purple embroidered vest.
“I was asking Milena,” Savino said, turning to her.
“You look very handsome,” Milena said approvingly. “But we are Samraat Ajeet’s guests, so you might want to show a little respect and button your pants.”
Savino’s eyes darted to his crotch, where the front of his trousers hung open, exposing his red underpants. Giacomo burst out laughing. Milena and Aaminah snickered.
Savino’s face turned scarlet as he buttoned himself up. “Not funny.”
“It kind of is,” Milena teased.
* * *
As Milena and the others made their way through the corridors of the palace, a painting caught her eye. It was an enormous canvas that portrayed dozens of figures in the samraat’s throne room. A man who Milena assumed was a young Samraat Jagesh sat under the golden canopy, his warriors and their horse-Geniuses surrounding him. Before them, Emperor Callisto stood at a table, writing on a scroll and flanked by several Zizzolan soldiers in black armor. The realistic style looked out of place among the Rachanan works, which were painted with blocks of flat color and repeated patterns.
Milena gasped as it hit her. “Pietro, there’s a painting here of the peace treaty signing—I think it’s one of yours!” Upon closer inspection, Milena found Pietro’s signature in the corner of the canvas, confirming her hunch. “It is!”
“Not among my finer works,” Pietro said dismissively as he quickly shuffled past his students. “Come, we don’t want to keep Samraat Ajeet waiting.”
“Doesn’t that woman next to Emperor Callisto look familiar?” Savino said, pointing to a poised figure in a dark robe.
Milena focused on the woman and instantly felt a chill. “That’s Nerezza when she was young.”
Giacomo turned to Pietro, who had paused in the middle of the corridor. “You didn’t tell us Nerezza was with you when you came here.”
“Not much to tell,” Pietro said, scratching his beard. “She wanted to join her father for the signing of the armistice.
”
“But didn’t you mention to me that you used to be friends with her?” Giacomo said, probing further.
“We were once fellow students—that’s all,” Pietro said brusquely, then walked off toward the sounds of a crowd gathering. “Now, come, we don’t want to be late.”
Milena and her friends followed, hanging back. “Do you get the sense that he’s not telling us the whole story?” Milena whispered.
“He’s definitely hiding something,” Giacomo said, eyeing Pietro with suspicion.
“But what?” Savino’s question hung in the air.
* * *
Milena passed through a grand entrance and into the Ceremonial Hall, an enormous circular room. High above, the heavens were framed by round windows. The moon cast a bluish light across ten towering marble statues that ringed the room, their arms reaching up to support the vaulted ceiling. Milena recognized the figures as Rachana’s ten gods from the relief sculpture.
In the center of the hall, well-dressed guests sat around the edges of a large, rectangular cloth with a decorative floral pattern, its corners held down by ornamental weights. Milena was used to taking her meals at a table, seated in a high-backed chair, never on the floor.
Milena helped her teacher sit down next to Aaminah, then took her place beside Savino, and Giacomo plunked himself down on her other side.
A row of warriors in ceremonial garb was across the cloth table from them. With lavish clothes, combed hair, and a clean-shaven face, Ozo was barely recognizable next to Lavanthi and her daughter. He and Lavanthi seemed to be in the midst of a heart-to-heart. He stared so deeply into Lavanthi’s eyes as she spoke that Milena wondered if Aaminah was right—maybe there was a romantic spark between the mercenary and the warrior. Strangely, it made her aware of her own body sitting so close to Savino’s, and she fidgeted with the beads on her dress.
A servant rang a bright-sounding bell, and Samraat Ajeet walked through an archway at the back of the room in vibrantly colored, ornate robes. The din of conversation abruptly hushed. The samraat climbed a small set of stairs onto a raised golden dais, then he took a seat on a bed of cushions and addressed the gathered crowd in Rachanan. Yaday stood off to the side and translated for Milena and her friends.
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