Ashes of the Sun

by Django Wexler

  “You must be starved,” Beq said. She was also dressed in a fresh uniform and looked considerably better than Maya felt. “Please, eat something.”

  Maya didn’t need more urging than that. She sat down at the table, guzzled water from the pitcher, and started in on the vulpi bacon and toast. Beq sat down opposite her and watched with a faint smile.

  “Sorry to eat like a thickhead,” Maya said. “I just didn’t realize how badly I needed this.”

  “It’s all right,” Beq said. “But maybe wait a moment. I have news, and I’d rather not get a face full of half-chewed bacon.”

  That doesn’t sound good. Maya washed down the toast with more water. “Let me hear it.”

  “Raskos is gone.”

  “What do you mean, gone?”

  “No one can find him, as of not long after Tanax put you under arrest. The palace is going mad. Rumor is that he’s fled the city because of what you found at the warehouse.”

  “That plaguing rat,” Maya said. She wasn’t sure whether to be furious or relieved that she’d been proven right. “So now what?”

  “The Forge is putting together a temporary governor and a Legion detachment to keep order.” Beq hesitated. “Their messenger said that your arrest stands, though. We’re all to report back there today.”

  “I imagine it will take the Council a while to sort out what happened,” Maya said, forcing a note of confidence.

  “I hope so,” Beq said. She lowered her voice and leaned forward. “There’s something strange going on. Varo says that Tanax got a message from the Forge before you went to the ambush. He saw him going down to the Gate chamber. But Tanax didn’t mention it to anyone.”

  “He is the senior agathios,” Maya said. She leaned back, head spinning a little. “No doubt he has many secrets.”

  “Maybe.” Beq glanced around, then shook her head. “Never mind. I’ll tell you later.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Fine.” Beq swallowed. “Well. They’ve got Sarah in the cells.”

  “Is she going to live?”

  “Maybe. They had to take off her arm.” Beq shuddered. “I just… I don’t know.”

  “What happened in the tunnel is on Raskos’ head,” Maya said. It has to be. When she closed her eyes, she saw the rebel burning away into ashes and bones. “And he’ll get what he has coming to him.”

  “What about Nicomidi?” Beq said, very quietly. “If he’s involved…”

  “The Council will sort it out,” Maya said firmly.

  Beq gave a weak smile and got to her feet. “Finish your breakfast,” she said. “Tanax will send for you before long. It’s time to go home.”

  The Forge had never been home, not for Maya, but she couldn’t say she was sorry to be seeing the last of Deepfire. The knowledge that Gyre was still out there, somewhere, only made it worse.

  When I’m a centarch, maybe I can find him. She could come back here on her own, with no one to question her authority. Though I don’t think Jaedia would approve.

  No point in visiting the farm, though. Maya probed at that thought as she waited, pack at the ready, for Tanax to summon her. Mom and Dad… Thinking about them tugged at something in her chest, but it felt distant, as though it belonged to another life. Does that make me horrible? My parents are dead. Have been dead, for years, and I didn’t know. She felt like she should feel more.

  Maya shivered and wiped sweat from her forehead. The Thing itched, and she rubbed at it with the heel of her palm.

  I wish Jaedia was here.

  Eventually, the door opened. Tanax had washed and changed as well, into his dress uniform instead of his traveling clothes, and he looked every inch the aristocratic young agathios. Maya drew herself up to attention.

  “Agathios Maya,” he said.

  “Agathios Tanax,” she replied with a slight bow.

  He glanced over his shoulders at the pair of Legionaries, still standing at the ready. “We are returning to the Forge. You will accompany me and be given into the Council’s custody.”

  “I understand,” Maya said. “I’m not planning to resist.”

  “Good.” Tanax paused, as though on the point of saying something else, but quickly turned away. “Follow me.”

  Out in the hall, Beq and Varo joined them, along with another pair of Legionaries. Varo gave Maya an encouraging smile and fell in beside her as they walked.

  “Had a friend who was accused of treason once,” he said without preamble.

  “Why do I feel like this isn’t going to be encouraging?”

  “The centarch looked into it and found him innocent!” Varo protested. “Said he was free to go.”

  “That’s something.”

  “It’s just that the next night, he got so drunk celebrating that he fell in the swamp and got his—”

  Beq sniggered, and Maya rolled her eyes. Even Varo, to everyone’s surprise, chuckled.

  “I know this has been a… difficult conclusion to our assignment,” Tanax said without looking around. “But I have faith in the Council’s judgment. Perhaps we will be assigned to work together again someday.”

  Maya didn’t know if he was talking about her, but she found herself thinking of Beq. This is the end of our assignment. Presumably, that meant Beq would go back to her workshop duties at the Forge, or be assigned another centarch or agathios to support. Either way, Maya wouldn’t see her again unless the duty roster happened to bring them together. That thought was more wrenching than she cared to admit.

  I have to talk to her. It was, given that Maya was currently under arrest for treason, perhaps not the most rational set of priorities, but it weighed on her mind as they descended the long spiral stairs, moving from the human-designed part of the palace to the ancient architecture of the Chosen. Maybe it was just that she didn’t know what to expect from the treason charge, and whatever happened, for the moment it was out of her control. Whereas trying to talk to Beq, to express what she wanted to say—that you’re smart and funny and brave and also I’ve wanted to kiss you basically since the moment I first saw you—was all too easy to picture, and no matter how she tried to phrase it in her mind, everything went horribly wrong.

  The Gate was waiting for them, as changeless as the Spike itself. Maya felt Tanax send it the activation code, and the archway filled with swirling mist. He stepped aside and gestured for Maya to go first. With a shrug, Maya went through, crossing most of the Republic in an instant, and emerged in the Gate chamber of the Forge.

  The last time she and Jaedia had returned, there’d been a single centarch on duty at the door. Now four of them were waiting, in full unmetal armor, with a rank of Legionaries standing behind them, rifles at the ready. Maya pulled up short, too surprised to even read their heraldry.

  “Agathios Maya,” one of the four said. Her voice buzzed from inside her helmet. “Where is your haken?”

  “Tanax has it,” Maya said, forgetting formality for a moment. “I’m not going to hurt anyone, I promise—”

  “Council orders,” the centarch snapped. “Come with us, please.”

  Maya had always assumed the Forge had jail cells—it had everything else—but she’d never heard of anyone being sent to them. Ordinary criminals were forwarded to the Republic system of justice, and dhakim were always swiftly executed.

  It turned out that the Forge’s prison was just as large and empty as the rest of the fortress. Her captors marched her down a row of open cells, their barred doors removed or rusted away. At the end of the hall, a stairway descended to a deeper level and another set of cells. These were larger and better maintained, carved out of stone and secure with iron doors. Maya expected to stop here, but the centarchs marched her grimly on, down another staircase.

  This far beneath the mountain, the air was close and oppressive. There were only a few cells on this floor, but the door to each had no window and was plated on both sides in iridescent unmetal. Instead of a lock, there was a complex bit of arcana on the ou
tside, which one of the centarchs touched with a small bit of crystal and wire. When the door swung open, Maya could see that the inside of the cell was plated with unmetal as well, with grills to cover the ventilation and the drains.

  This is a cell for centarchs, she realized. Even if she’d somehow managed to smuggle in a haken, carving a way out through all that unmetal would take long enough that someone would surely notice. It made her wonder how often the Order had needed to contain a rogue centarch, down through the centuries. It also made her wonder if she was in bigger trouble than she’d realized. Tripping over her tongue trying to confess her thoughts to Beq suddenly seemed minor.

  “Get inside,” the centarch said.

  “How long am I going to be here?” Maya said. “I need to speak to the Council—Kyriliarch Baselanthus—”

  “The Council will deal with you when they see fit,” the centarch said. Something in her voice was chilling.

  Maya edged into the cell, and the guards slammed the door behind her. She heard the arcana lock click and the sound of retreating footsteps, and then she was alone.

  At least the cell didn’t have rats. And it was clean, not because anyone had made any special effort to keep it that way, but because filth couldn’t be persuaded to stick to unmetal. There was a cold-water tap, a drain for waste, a stool, and a thin mattress. That was all.

  Her fever was getting worse, leaving her alternating between chills and sweats. In between, she tried to focus. If I’d known I was going to be locked up, I would have brought a copy of the Inheritance. I could have caught up on my lessons. That would have made Jaedia happy, at least. Instead, she had only a blank notebook, which had been part of her traveling supplies. She occupied her time writing down an account of everything that had happened since they’d left the Forge. If Tanax was going to file a report, she could at least submit one as well.

  She’d only reached her fight against the smugglers in Litnin—the memory of which made her hand shake a little—before she heard voices outside. At first she thought it might be dinner, since her stomach was definitely starting to rumble. Then someone snapped, “Open it,” and she recognized Baselanthus’ voice.

  Her heart leapt, then fell again as the door opened. Baselanthus was there, but he wasn’t alone. Nicomidi, Tanax’s master, stood behind him, and so did old Prodominus. The same trio who had sent them off on their mission, representing the three factions of the Council of Kyriliarchs—Baselanthus’ Pragmatics, Nicomidi’s Dogmatics, and Prodominus’ quixotic Revivalists. This can’t be good. Maya shot to her feet, then bowed deeply.

  “Kyriliarchs,” she said. “Thank you for seeing me so quickly.”

  “Agathios,” Basel said.

  “I want to say that I understand the seriousness of my offense,” Maya said, hoping to get in front of the conversation. “I disobeyed Agathios Tanax’s orders, and I am willing to accept whatever punishment you think is appropriate. I would like, however, to present some other evidence that might…”

  She trailed off as Nicomidi held up a hand. Basel looked worried, and Prodominus’ eyes were pitying. Nicomidi, though, looked as smug as a cat.

  “While we will review your conduct in Deepfire in due time,” Nicomidi said, “it is not the primary issue here.”

  Maya blinked. “Then… what is?”

  “I need you to remain calm, child,” Basel said. “Something has gone wrong with Jaedia’s mission.”

  “Gone wrong?” Nicomidi sneered. “She’s turned traitor to the Order.”

  “That’s not proven,” Basel said. “All we know—”

  “Is that she made contact with one of our undercover outposts, which subsequently disappeared,” Nicomidi said. “And that our investigators found witnesses who said Jaedia attacked the outpost herself and slaughtered our scouts.”

  “That’s impossible,” Maya said. She felt as though she’d been punched in the gut. “It’s a mistake. Jaedia wouldn’t… I mean…”

  She spread her hands, trying to convey the ridiculousness of the notion. Jaedia turn against the Order? It would be easier for this mountain to turn itself upside down.

  “Our investigation is ongoing,” Basel said, then sighed. “Unfortunately, what is not in dispute is that Jaedia has not checked in according to plan, nor responded to any messages sent to her by various emergency channels. Therefore—”

  “Something’s happened to her.” Maya took a step forward. “Please. I’ll go and find her, and I’ll prove to you that none of this makes sense—”

  “Agathios,” Prodominus rumbled. “You may want to pay more heed to your own position.”

  “Indeed,” Nicomidi said with a thin smile. “Jaedia kept you away from the Forge, and any influence apart from hers. Now, we are forced to wonder, was this so you might be indoctrinated into whatever heresy she had concocted?”

  “There’s no heresy,” Maya shouted. Her head was spinning again. “Jaedia and I were helping people, instead of sitting around here playing at politics.”

  “Regardless,” Nicomidi snapped. “Your reliability is in question. You will be investigated as an accomplice.”

  “Once again, I must protest,” Basel said. “We have no evidence whatsoever that anything Jaedia has done included Maya.”

  “Only the evidence of common sense,” Nicomidi said. “How could her agathios, who accompanied her everywhere, not have been privy to her plans?”

  “Assuming this was a plan—” Basel began.

  “Your efforts to protect your protégé grow tiresome, Basel,” Nicomidi said. “The decision is in the full Council’s hands now.” He turned, cloak flaring behind him, and stalked out of the cell. Maya stared after him for a moment, then looked at Basel.

  “You can’t keep me in here,” she whispered. “Not if something’s happened to Jaedia. Please.”

  He sighed. “I’m afraid my say in the matter is limited, but I will do everything I can. Perhaps Jaedia will contact us soon with an explanation. But…”

  “You know she couldn’t do this!”

  Basel’s eyes were hooded. “I thought I did.”

  He turned to leave as well. Prodominus, stroking his beard, looked down at Maya and cleared his throat.

  “This will not be easy, girl,” he said. “Stay strong.”

  “Please,” Maya said.

  “The path the Chosen have laid is always a difficult one.” And Prodominus, too, turned away.

  “You are an interesting experiment, sha’deia.”

  Maya hung by her wrists from one wall of a brick cistern, pinioned and helpless. Her shoulders were screaming with pain.

  This isn’t real.

  Hollis Plaguetouch regarded her with cold eyes. He’d shed his coat with its high collar, and she could see the black spider clamped on the back of his neck, legs digging into his skin.

  This is a dream. Hollis was dead, and Jaedia had rescued her. Unless that was a dream, and I’ve been here all along…

  “This makes twice that you have stumbled into long-laid plans,” Hollis said. “Coincidence? Perhaps.”

  “You’re not Hollis,” Maya said.

  “No.” The legs of the black spider twitched. “Hollis Plaguetouch is dead.”

  “Who are you? What do you want with me?”

  “I don’t owe you answers, little sha’deia. As to what I want with you, that’s the real question, isn’t it?” He stepped closer and reached out a finger to touch the Thing in her chest. “Is this experiment worth the vexation you cause me?”

  “I’m not your experiment.” Maya struggled to pull away from him.

  “You’ve crossed the threshold, haven’t you? Yes, I can see it. Poor little sha’deia. It must be painful. The world no longer welcomes our kind.” He cocked his head, and the black spider twitched again. “Are you the one I’ve been waiting for all these years?”

  “Whoever you are,” Maya said, “whatever you are, I’m not—”

  “We shall see,” Hollis interrupted. “Assuming you sur
vive.”

  His finger traced a circle around the Thing, and in its wake Maya could feel her flesh bubble and change…

  Maya screamed until she woke up, sweating. She lay on the thin, lumpy mattress, one hand pressed to the Thing. Her skin was unmarred, and the nightmare was fading, but waking was very nearly worse.

  She had no idea how long it had been. Only a week, she guessed, but some part of her mind insisted it was months, years, and she had no way to be certain. The cell was lit by a sunlamp whose radiance never wavered. Twice a day (once? three times?) a slot opened in the door and a tray was shoved through with a simple meal—bread, cheese, dried meat. She gnawed at it, from habit more than hunger, and drank water from the tiny basin, pissed into the drain. The rest of the time she spent lying in bed.

  The cell became more dreamlike, and the dreams that plagued her whenever she closed her eyes became more like reality. It wasn’t only Hollis she saw in her nightmares. She lived the day she’d been taken to the Order, a struggling little girl; only Va’aht turned on her parents after taking Gyre’s eye and carved them into bloody chunks. Or it was Jaedia who slaughtered her family, Maya herself doing the killing, her mother begging her to stop as she burned her to ash, Gyre’s remaining eye filling with hatred. The nameless rebel girl stepped onto a pyre, dancing as her skin burned away. Beq came to her, in the dark of their tent, and they kissed and fumbled with each other’s clothes, until suddenly the other girl’s mouth was full of sharp, tearing teeth and her fingers cut like knives.

  Eventually—after what felt like an eternity—there came a day when she woke and found her head clear. Her body felt numb, as though she’d jumped into a river swollen with snowmelt. She rolled out of bed, shivering, and took a few moments to gather the strength to stand.

  What’s wrong with me? She had faint memories of illnesses as a girl, fevers and nightmares like this that no doctor had been able to explain. That’s why Baselanthus gave me the Thing. She touched the little arcana again and found the swelling around it had subsided. With an effort, Maya got to her feet. Her legs felt shaky, as though she’d run for hours. It was an effort to squat over the drain, but she managed.