The Land of Night

by Kirby Crow

  “I mean you, Nazheradei. I’m tired of you.”

  Liall was stricken, as if Scarlet had slapped him or betrayed him with another. Somewhere in his mind, he heard that thread stretched to snap. “You wish to leave me?”

  “Right now I’d like nothing better. If I thought I’d get five feet out of this place without—”

  “You are no slave,” Liall said calmly, but his chest felt like it was cracking. “You have always been free to leave me. Tomorrow, I will arrange for you to return to Byzantur at the earliest possible time. If all you want is to be away from me, you shall have it.”

  “That’s not—” Scarlet began, but they were interrupted by Cestimir.

  “Nazheradei?” Cestimir’s eyes slid from Scarlet to Liall and back again. “Can I help?”

  Liall said nothing, cold and stiff as he was with hurt, so Cestimir shrugged and offered Scarlet his cup. “I thought Keriss could use a drink.”

  “I would not know what Scarlet needs,” Liall snapped, and left them to sort it out. “I would not have the slightest idea.” He did not turn back to apologize and ask forgiveness, as his heart urged him to, nor even look back to see if Scarlet was watching him.

  Liall went to the queen. Bhakamir was at her side, holding a glass of clear liquid under her nose. It smelled of medicine, and she looked paler than usual, tired and thin.

  “Madame?” Liall leaned over her, putting one hand on the arm of her chair as Bhakamir tended to her. “Are you well?”

  “Do I look well?” she asked with some asperity, and then waved Bhakamir away. One thin hand massaged her breast in the region of her heart. “I will be fine. Worry not. See to the future king, there are vipers in the hall today.”

  “I know it,” Liall growled. “And I will put paid to one of them soon.”

  Her eyes met Liall’s, and he saw the finality sink into her. She did not argue, and after a moment, she nodded.

  “Call him out,” she uttered lowly. “What has occurred today proves Vladei’s intent: he will never allow Cestimir to become king without a fight. My sons... all my sons... are brave, Nazir, but a fourteen-year-old boy crossing swords with Vladei is not a wager I would take. If it must be done, it needs be done soon. Did Vladei not betray you at the hunt? Did not every noble see what he did? Did he not insult your t’aishka, which insults your honor as well? It is sufficient cause. Call him out.”

  Kill him, she was saying. He stared at her, not knowing what he hoped to see, but she was implacable.

  Of course, he thought. She is a queen. I know what that means, or I should know. A ruler must possess the ability to bow to necessity, no matter what the personal cost. Oh, there is a hardness in you, my mother. Did I drink that in at the breast, I wonder?

  There was a core in Nadiushka that no one, perhaps not even Liall’s late and unknown father, Lindolanen, ever got to touch. In that deep place she was like iron; cold and biting.

  And so am I. This is why Scarlet recoils from me.

  “As my queen commands,” Liall murmured, apparently submitting to her will, but she was not deceived. Liall wanted Vladei as dead as she did, and this time there would be no mistake about his intent. “I will kill him, but this is not the time.”

  “Nazir.”

  “It was you who called me back, Mother. Now you must trust me.”

  After a long moment, she nodded. “Very well, my son.” She took a shuddering breath. “Since there is to be no blood in the hall today, other than the bear, would you tell Keriss he is given permission to withdraw?” She looked worried. “I do hope the fracture between you is not permanent.”

  “I do not know. He is very angry with me.”

  “And you are angry with him,” she returned, seeing far too much. Her pale eyes glittered. “You believe he should follow all your orders unquestioningly, be ruled by you, trust you as he would a khatai.”

  Liall did not like the intimation that he wished to lord over Scarlet’s actions like a general. “He is in danger here!” he hissed, aware that others could hear them.

  “We are all in danger here. Fear is no reason to stop living.”

  Liall strove for words, feeling impotent and furious at the same time. “But he is so reckless, so careless of his own safety. He thinks he can do anything!”

  “And you are afraid for him,” she finished. “You wish to protect him.”

  “Yes. Naturally, I do.”

  She regarded him in silence for several moments. “My son... are you certain that you do not merely seek to protect yourself?”

  It was not fair. First Scarlet accused him of keeping him in a box, and then his own mother questioned his motives. Liall began to withdraw in offense, but she reached for his hand and he melted.

  “Nazir,” she said tenderly. “You were this way with Nadei. And Nadei, if I may observe, was very much like your Keriss.”

  Liall closed his eyes for a moment, but she would not stop.

  “You loved Nadei, but you protected him so much that he never grew strong on his own. In the end, that was his undoing.” She touched his face, her iron gaze for once grown soft and tender. “You shelter those you love so much that you suffocate them with safety. It is your way of avoiding pain and the possibility of loss.”

  She released him and Liall blinked back tears and rose, his eyes searching the room for Scarlet. Vladei was near the doorway. He looked to be leaving.

  Making good his escape after trying to kill me in the Hunt, Liall thought. Liall glanced to his mother, but there were no more words between them. He bowed and she inclined her head, giving him permission to leave. Liall left her presence to return to Scarlet, who was still tucked away in the corner with Cestimir. At that moment, he saw Vladei suddenly veer from the doorway and approach Scarlet. Every one of Liall’s instincts bristled, and he hurried to intercept his step-brother.

  Eleferi stepped in his way. “Nazheradei,” Eleferi smiled, but there was a note of urgency in his voice. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you.”

  “Out of my way,” Liall commanded, shoving Eleferi aside. Vladei had reached Scarlet. Scarlet had his back turned to Vladei, speaking with Cestimir, and the young men seemed to be arguing. Cestimir spoke sharply and held his wine cup out to Scarlet, clearly insisting he drink, and Scarlet shook his head and thrust the cup away, knocking it from Cestimir’s hand. There were gasps from those who saw, and Scarlet backed away from the prince, looking distressed.

  Liall saw Vladei reach for Scarlet’s wrist and jerk the small pedlar around to face him.

  “You dare to strike a prince of Rshan!” Vladei snapped, loud enough for the entire hall to hear.

  Liall’s hand was already on his knife and he was four strides away when he saw Scarlet’s face change. Scarlet suddenly lost the aspect of hesitant uncertainly that had been dogging his actions whenever he had to deal with the members of the royal court, changing swiftly to plain and simple anger. His jaw tightened and his hand –caught in Vladei’s grip– curled into a fist. Vladei suddenly shouted and released Scarlet, thrusting Scarlet away from him and holding his own wrist.

  “Don’t touch me again,” Scarlet warned Vladei. “Or I’ll make you regret it.”

  And then, to Liall’s everlasting shock, a bloom of fire unfurled in Scarlet’s open palm like a yellow flower opening. Fire. It was fire.

  Liall was so stunned that his hand froze on his knife and he, like the rest of the court, stood stock-still in amazement, watching as Scarlet thrust the fire withy close to Vladei’s face.

  “Keep your fucking hands to yourself!” Scarlet snarled.

  All around the court, mouths hung open and an enormous silence filled the room. Magic. Hilurin magic. The fabled and dreaded power of the ancient world come to life among them.

  The silence lasted only a moment. “Magic!” Vladei shouted, his voice raw with fear. “See there! Did I not warn you all of his magic? See how he intends to murder me with it!”

  Like hounds set free from a kennel, the voic
es of the court were unleashed all at once and they all began to speak and gesture angrily and in fear. A few courtiers surged forward, their faces flushed with alarm, intent on reaching Scarlet and Vladei.

  Liall’s instincts shrieked danger to him, and he shook himself from his own amazement and leapt in front of the men.

  “Scarlet, for the gods’ sake, put it down!” Liall shouted. He pulled his knife free from its sheath and pointed it at the courtiers. “Stay back!”

  “Magic! Magic!” someone else shouted, high and excited like a yapping dog. “The Hilurin brings the magic back to Rshan! We shall be destroyed!”

  “Cease this!” Liall thundered, striving to be heard above the growing hysteria. Hilurin magic. Every child’s tale in Rshan was full of it, of dire warnings of it, and what would happen to the kingdom if it should ever return. Inwardly, he was struggling with his own shock and sense of betrayal. How... how... could Scarlet have kept this from him? How was such a thing possible? Magic? It seemed scarcely to be believed, but there was Scarlet standing alone in the center of the great hall, holding fire in his hand. A fire that did not burn him.

  Liall saw Scarlet staring at him in dismay. Scarlet closed his hand, extinguishing the flame and hanging his head. Cestimir stood near Scarlet, silent and still as if frozen there.

  “Scarlet,” Liall breathed, approaching him on leaden legs. “Scarlet, how do you do that?”

  Scarlet blushed deeply and put the offending hand behind his back. “My father taught me,” he whispered. “It’s my Gift from Deva. The withy magic.”

  “You hear!” Vladei began shouting again. “His magic! He admits he brought it here to destroy us!”

  Among the many voices, Liall could hear the queen shouting for order and being royally ignored.

  Scarlet raised his head at the accusation, frowning. “I don’t want to destroy anyone!”

  “Keep silent!” Liall hissed, and then raised his voice again and spoke in Sinha. “This is my t’aishka. He has my protection!”

  “Kill it!” someone shouted.

  A courtier –one of Vladei’s men wearing the red badge– shoved Scarlet from behind, causing him to stumble. Cestimir came out of his stillness and caught Scarlet before he fell, turning then to shout at the offending courtier. Other voices took up the call –kill it!–and the fragile control of the room began to fray.

  Suddenly, a storm seemed to barrel toward the center of the great hall. Melev strode in, his abnormally long legs carrying him faster than any man could walk, shunting the tall Rshani men and women aside as easily as reeds. The Ancient took up position beside Liall and dropped a plate-sized hand on Scarlet’s shoulder. The voices died down and Scarlet turned and looked way, way up at the huge man towering above him.

  In the new quiet, all heard the awe-filled whisper from Scarlet: “Shining One...”

  Scarlet backed away from Melev, stumbling. An expression of intense concentration passed over Scarlet’s features as he tried to keep his feet under him, then his knees simply buckled and he collapsed to the floor.

  Liall cried out in dismay and fear, but Melev moved before he could, kneeling to pick up the fallen Hilurin and cradling him in his massive arms. Melev faced the watching Rshani in the great hall.

  “Pail’aa sest Nauhin,” Melev intoned, and his deep voice rolled over the crowd like low thunder, silencing them. For the Shining Ones. It was the ritual cry from the Hunt, but none knew what it signified now, or what Melev intended.

  Liall reached out and touched Scarlet’s face as he lay in Melev’s arms, and the Ancient looked down on Liall and nodded. Liall wondered if Melev could feel the depth of his fear.

  “Come,” Melev said simply, and swept out of the hall, the Hilurin carried as easily in his arms as a kitten. Having no choice, Liall followed, sheathing his knife and thanking all the gods that not even Vladei would think to cross an Ancient. They were saved for now, but what of later?

  Liall had to pass by Vladei, and the look his step-brother gave him chilled his bones. My stubborn little redbird, Liall thought unhappily. Why did you keep this from me? Did you trust me so little? And how am I going to keep you safe now, when you have brought so much fear to the hearts of so many?

  8.

  The Temple Road

  The dream told Scarlet he was drowning, warm water creeping up his neck and inching over his nose. He thought maybe it was the pond below the wash in Lysia, so he thrashed and tried to stand, knowing the water was not more than waist deep in most places, but there were hands holding him and soothing voices that whispered and hissed strange comforts. Scarlet opened his eyes and woke up in a bathtub, and everything was a blur of movement and light.

  Jochi was kneeling beside him, holding onto his slippery arm as he struggled and struck out at the man, which ended in his head slipping under the water. Jochi hauled him up to a sitting position cupped his cheek as he spluttered.

  “Scarlet!” Jochi shouted.

  Not Keriss, and that got his attention. “Jochi?” Scarlet wiped the water from his eyes, suddenly mortified to realize he was naked and the room was full of people, Nenos and Dvi and several others in attendance. The water was warm, not hot, and no soap in it. He had been soaking for a while, for his skin was wrinkled like wizened fruit. Scarlet remembered his last sight before he fainted; a man who looked both Rshani and not, who seemed at first so still that he was like a statue carved from dark ironwood. A statue with round moonstone eyes that shone like lamps in his face. Scarlet began to tremble.

  “Are you cold?” Jochi patted Scarlet’s cheek, seeing he was awake and in the present, and then heaved a sigh and shook his head in reproof. “You did give us a fright, ser.”

  Jochi stood and gave Nenos some instructions in Sinha. Scarlet almost asked Jochi about Liall before he remembered how angry Liall had been. It made his heart ache.

  Dvi began to ply Scarlet with hot che with a little sugar and some odd-tasting herbs, and then Nenos warmed the water again. Scarlet was so exhausted that he dozed, and afterward, they hauled him out of the water. Nenos bundled him into the huge bed and piled woolen blankets warmed by the fire around him.

  By the time Liall appeared at the door, Scarlet had stopped shivering and the dull, hammering pain had started again inside his skull. Liall came into the bedroom silently, looking at Scarlet with a set, stony expression that made his heart sink. Liall then stepped aside and a man quite taller than any creature Scarlet had ever seen entered from the common room. It was the man from the hall, the one he had mistaken for a Shining One.

  A deep silence fell over the already-quiet room, and Liall said, with great gravity; “This is Melev.”

  Melev was bald, which Scarlet understood was rare for a Rshani. Even their very old men were not so. This one had the same amber-colored skin as Liall, but he was two hand-spans taller and wore only a simple, rough-spun robe knotted around his whipcord-thin frame. Melev wore no furs or even shoes against the cold and no jewelry or bright ornaments, which the Rshani seemed to love adorning themselves with. He looked poor and humble, if strange. Despite that, Nenos bowed low when Melev entered, and even Liall did the same.

  Melev stepped nearer to the bed Scarlet was huddled in, and Scarlet shrank back, filled with a nameless fear.

  The odd giant smiled gently and knelt by the side of the bed, bringing his eyes on a level with Scarlet’s, who was perched high up on pillows and blankets. A giant, indeed. Melev had a strange face: huge, pale eyes like pearls or opals, and a large, hooked nose and square jaw. He strongly resembled the wooden carving of a Shining One that Scarlet had seen in the Fate Dealer’s tent in Ankar, which made Scarlet shiver in superstitious fear. Scarlet looked to Liall for guidance, but Liall was cold and unresponsive.

  Melev extended one of his monstrous hands to feel the bruise on Scarlet’s forehead, and Scarlet saw that his hands were wrong, misshapen in some way. Scarlet jerked back a little before Melev could touch him, and the man smiled again. Melev’s expression was most
gentle, and turned his hand before Scarlet’s eyes.

  “It is only a little different from your hand,” Melev said in a muted, soothing voice, so low that its tones almost fell under the normal sounds of the air and the palace. Deep, but comforting. Yes, he was very comforting. A sense of peace seemed to radiate from his very skin.

  Scarlet relaxed a bit as Melev flexed his giant’s hands. He began to notice that Melev spoke perfect Bizye, even with a touch of northern accent, like his own.

  “See?” Melev said, still in that calming voice. “Four joints in each finger, rather than three, and four in the thumb.” He wriggled them, his fingers twisting like snakes, impossible angles. “Physical difference,” he explained softly. “Nothing to be frightened of.”

  “I’m not frightened,” Scarlet said gamely.

  “Of course not. Why would you be? Your magic is as great as mine, if not greater.” Melev reached for him again. “If you will permit this...?”