Ashes of the Sun

by Django Wexler

  It was not a virgin cognomen. Far from it. Gaesta Burningblade had been one of the twelve centarchs first given their haken by the Chosen themselves, the distant ancestors of the Kyriliarchs. It had been granted many times in the past four hundred years, always to centarchs whose power manifested as Maya’s did—in the pure fire of the sun. None of its bearers had failed to do the name honor.

  Jaedia wanted that for me. For a moment, her throat was too thick to respond. Finally, she managed a small voice, which went mostly unheard among the rising tumult.

  “I am… honored, Kyriliarch.”

  After that, the Dogmatic members of the Council had left, stiff-necked, while everyone else seemed to want to congratulate Maya. She shook hands, numbly, with some of the most respected and powerful members of the Order, too shocked to note their colors or remember their names. Someone clapped her on the shoulder, which sent a jolt of pain through her arm, and she doubled over. Distantly, she heard someone saying that the new centarch was tired and needed rest. An arm slipped through hers—on her good side—and she found herself pulled toward the door.

  Only when she was out in the corridor did she manage to straighten up. Baselanthus looked down at her, eyes twinkling.

  “You seemed like you needed rescue, my dear,” he said.

  “Chosen defend me,” Maya said. “Thank you. And… for what you said—”

  “As to that,” the old man said firmly, “we should speak in private. Do you think you have the strength?”

  Maya nodded. Basel let go of her arm and led the way down the hall to his office. He settled in behind his desk, among the collection of strange arcana, and Maya closed the heavy door behind her. With the sound of conversation from the hall cut off, she relaxed a fraction.

  “You seem surprised at how things worked out,” Basel said.

  “I… expected more…”

  “Resistance?”

  “Yes, Kyriliarch.”

  “Oh, no need for that. Not in here, at least. I was always Basel to Jaedia.” He waved at the chairs opposite his desk. “Sit, if you like. I know your hip pains you.”

  “Thank you, K—Basel.” Maya took the seat opposite him with relief.

  “If Nicomidi had not decamped so suddenly, I daresay you would have had more of a fight on your hands. As it is, the Dogmatics found the wind quite taken out of their sails and declined to make an issue of it after we heard Tanax’s testimony.”

  “It just feels very… sudden.”

  “Under normal circumstances, there’s a bit more pomp. A ceremony and a reception. But things being as they are, we thought it best to move quickly.” He fixed her with a sharp gaze. “I imagine it is your intention to go after Jaedia as soon as possible.”

  Maya nodded vigorously. “Whatever information the Council has must be wrong. Jaedia would never betray the Order; you know that. I suspect she has been deliberately set up.”

  “I have never been one to construct conspiracies,” Basel said. “But with Nicomidi’s flight, it does look a bit more plausible. The Council is pursuing its own investigation, of course. I don’t suppose I can convince you to wait?”

  “No. Jaedia may need my help.”

  “I thought not. As you are a centarch now, and no one is pressing the accusations against you, I have no authority to stop you. And perhaps it is for the best. The Council is… divided.”

  “Do we know where Nicomidi went?”

  Basel shook his head. “Only that he was in a hurry. He left the arena as soon as your duel ended, visited his office, and then went straight to the Gate chamber before anyone could think to stop him. No one seems to have any idea why, not even his colleagues.”

  “If he was the one framing Jaedia—”

  “He might have been worried that would come out,” Basel said. “Though the odds of the Council finding evidence to punish a Kyriliarch seem small. But even then, it only pushes the question back a step. Why frame Jaedia at all? What does he have to gain? A minor injury to the Pragmatics and myself doesn’t seem worth the risk.”

  “I don’t know,” Maya said. “But I plan to find out. If I see Nicomidi—”

  “If you see him, I advise you to stay well away.” Baselanthus leaned forward. “Do not become overconfident, Maya. Nicomidi Thunderclap is most assuredly not Tanax. In due course, the Council will authorize a group of centarchs to hunt him down, if he has truly abandoned us.”

  “I’m going to find Jaedia,” Maya said. “Well, and Marn, I suppose. That’s all.”

  “I understand. And I wish you the best of luck.” He sighed. “As much as I am bound by the Council and its politics, please don’t think that I love Jaedia any less for it.”

  “I don’t.” Maya swallowed. “What you said, about my cognomen…”

  “Jaedia requested it for you,” Basel said. “She told me you were going to be the greatest centarch since our founding. Maybe the greatest ever. Bearing the name of our greatest fire-wielder seemed appropriate.” He chuckled. “You can thank Nicomidi, in a way. If not for the state of disarray he put the Dogmatics in, I have no doubt they would have fought to prevent us from giving you such an honor.”

  “I…” Maya looked down at her hands. “I will do my best to live up to it.”

  “I know you will, my dear.” Basel leaned back in his chair. “Now go and get some rest.”

  Maya did, indeed, feel wrung out. She got to her feet, bowed respectfully, and went to the door.

  “Oh, one more thing,” Basel said. “I read Tanax’s report from Deepfire. He described your performance at the warehouse as extraordinary.”

  “I…” Maya hesitated. “I lost control of myself. Jaedia would have scolded me.”

  “Quite possibly,” Basel murmured. “Can I ask if you experienced any aftereffects? In particular…” He tapped his chest, just where the Thing was on Maya.

  “I… think so,” Maya said, frowning. “It felt… hot, and the skin around it was inflamed. Then, after I returned, I collapsed for days.” She described her brief period of delirium in the cell. “I thought it was the shock of hearing about Jaedia. Do you think they’re related?”

  “It’s… possible.” Basel frowned. “The arcana in question is largely untested. We had some concern that it would react if you channeled deiat too powerfully for too long. Without experiments, I’m afraid we can’t know for sure.”

  Maya touched the Thing, the hard knot of it firm against her fingers. “Do you need to examine it?”

  “Not at the moment,” Basel said. “Just be cautious, and try not to stretch your limits. When you return with Jaedia, we will see what we can discover.”

  “I understand,” Maya said. She bowed again. “Thank you, Kyriliarch.”

  “Good luck, Centarch,” Basel murmured as she slipped out the door.

  It was barely midafternoon, but the prospect of collapsing into bed seemed more and more attractive as Maya made her way down the interminable stairs and back to her own room. Her feet were dragging as she thumbed the latch, and she was trying to decide whether she had energy to change out of her formal tunic when she realized Beq was sitting in her chair. The sight of her sent a bolt of energy running up Maya’s spine, banishing her fatigue, even as the pained expression Beq wore set something twisting in her gut.

  “Um,” Maya managed, letting the door close behind her. “Hi.”

  “They wouldn’t let me in to see you,” Beq said. The light caught her spectacles and turned them into flat white disks.

  “The healers… were very thorough.” Maya shifted her arm and winced. “And until just now I was still under Council restraint.”

  “And now?” Beq said.

  “I’m a centarch,” Maya said. Stating it like that, so simply, made her feel… strange.

  “You won,” Beq said. Her voice was still flat.

  “I won.” Maya took a hesitant step forward. “Beq, are you all right?”

  “You…” Beq shot up from the chair and crossed the room to meet her.
Her face was a mask of rage, and her eyes were full of tears. “You… idiot.” That clearly did little to relieve her feelings, and she went looking for harsher language. “You stupid plaguing fuck. You crazy fucking plaguepit.”

  “Beq—”

  “You could have died.” Beq squared off across from Maya, hands clenched into fists, shaking with rage. “I saw what happened. When you realized your panoply wasn’t working. You could have stopped the duel.”

  “I thought…” Maya took a deep breath. “I wasn’t sure if they would let me start it again if I did. Panoplies don’t just fail—”

  “You think I don’t know that? Which one of us is the fucking arcanist?” Having gotten onto a good swearing streak, Beq seemed determined to continue. “Someone was trying to kill you, and you found out, and you decided to just… let them have a shot?”

  “I didn’t see much other choice.” Maya scratched the back of her neck, embarrassed. “I was a little busy at the time.”

  “Chosen fucking defend, Maya.” Beq sucked in a breath. “I have never been so scared in my life. Watching you charge Tanax, and every second thinking this is going to be the moment where you get ripped into bloody chunks. I just… I couldn’t move. Couldn’t even close my eyes.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You’d better be sorry.” Beq stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Maya, pressing her face into Maya’s shoulder. Her spectacles dug painfully into Maya’s skin, but Maya didn’t complain. “If you do something that fucking stupid and get yourself killed, I’m never speaking to you again.”

  Maya didn’t think it was the moment to point out the inherent contradiction there. Beq sniffed, pulled off her spectacles, and pressed her face against Maya’s uniform. Maya gently hugged her back.

  “It’s all right,” she whispered as Beq’s frame shook with sobs. “I’m all right.”

  “You won,” Beq murmured after a while.

  “I won.”

  “Now what?”

  “Now I go and find Jaedia. She needs my help.”

  “I’m coming with you.” Beq’s muffled voice was fierce.

  “Of course you are,” Maya said, hugging her a little tighter. “I need you.”

  “Okay.” Beq released her hold, slowly, and pulled away. She wiped her reddened eyes and fumbled her spectacles back on, blinking. “Okay. As long as we’re clear on that.”

  “As a centarch I can choose my own support personnel,” Maya said. “Not that I would make you come if you didn’t want to, of course. But you can travel with me as long as you like, and there’s nothing the Order can do about it.”

  “That’s… good.” Beq sniffed. “I’m sorry I called you a crazy plaguepit.”

  “It’s all right,” Maya said. “I probably deserved it.”

  “I need to sit down.”

  Maya guided Beq to the chair and poured them each a mug of water. She took a seat on the bed, facing Beq.

  “We have to leave as soon as we can,” Maya said. “I don’t know where Jaedia is now, but the longer we wait, the harder she’ll be to find. And the worse trouble she might be in. Can you be ready by tomorrow?”

  Beq nodded. “I just need a few hours to gather my gear. And I’m nearly finished decoding Nicomidi’s messages to Raskos. It’s going a lot faster now that I don’t have to worry about him spotting me in the archives.”

  “Is there anything useful there? Basel agrees he must have been involved with whatever happened to Jaedia, but we still don’t know why.”

  “I’m not certain,” Beq said. “Nicomidi and Raskos were definitely working together. He’s coy about it in the messages, but I think Nicomidi had Raskos on the lookout for particular pieces of arcana.”

  “That makes sense,” Maya said. She remembered the horde in Raskos’ warehouse. “Raskos certainly seemed to have his fingers in everything. But what was Nicomidi getting out of it? Money? What would that get him that he couldn’t already have?”

  “Nicomidi was insistent that some finds be kept secret from the Council.”

  Maya nodded slowly. “That seems… more plausible, at least. You said the Core Analytica was probably ghoul arcana—I can’t imagine the Council would let him keep that around. But I don’t understand what he was going to do with it. And I still don’t see a connection with Jaedia.”

  “Maybe there isn’t one?” Beq suggested. “Maybe that part is just ordinary Order politics.”

  “It seems unlikely. Even Basel was surprised at how far Nicomidi was willing to go. It’s beyond the usual Council sniping.” Maya shook her head. “It doesn’t matter for now. We have to find Jaedia. Everything else comes after.”

  “Right.” Beq gave a firm nod. “Do we know where we’re going to start?”

  “Grace,” Maya said. “Basel promised to send the files with details on where Jaedia was last seen.”

  “Grace?” Beq’s voice was a squeak. “Really?”

  “Is that a problem?” Maya said. She didn’t know much about the notorious Splinter Kingdom city, other than that it was famous as a smugglers’ market.

  “Oh no.” Beq grinned. “I’ve just always wanted to see it for myself.”

  “It’s a long way from the nearest Gate, unfortunately,” Maya said. “A couple of weeks or more by wagon. We’ll have to join up with a caravan at Uqaris, near the border.”

  Beq nodded and got to her feet. “I should start getting ready. I’ll need to make a list for the quartermasters.”

  “Me too.” But…

  Maya swallowed the last of her water and set the mug aside. As Beq turned to the door, Maya rose abruptly. Her heart thumped loud enough that she was sure Beq could hear it.

  “Wait a minute.”

  Beq hesitated, then half turned. “Is something wrong?”

  “I just…” Maya swallowed. Forcing the next few words out was nearly as hard as charging Tanax head-on without a panoply. “I want us to be clear on something.”

  “I should really…” Beq murmured. At the look on Maya’s face, though, she trailed off and took a deep breath. “Okay.”

  “You kissed me,” Maya said. Her hand came up automatically to brush the Thing. “I kissed you. We kissed each other. Whichever.”

  “We… did.” Beq’s freckled cheeks were flushing.

  “And then you…”

  “Ran away.” Beq’s hands twisted the hem of her shirt between them. “I know.”

  “You don’t need to explain.” Maya closed her eyes. “I just want to know if… if you would be interested in kissing me again. At some point. When you’re ready.”

  Silence. Maya waited, trembling, not daring to open her eyes and look at Beq’s face.

  She nearly started at the feel of hot breath against her cheek. Then Beq’s lips pressed against hers, hesitantly. Maya stood stock-still, frozen, until Beq pulled away.

  “Oh,” she said. When she opened her eyes, Beq was already facing the door. “Okay.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll see you.” Maya’s brain didn’t seem to be working quite right. “Tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Beq moved forward, mechanically, and nearly bumped into the door when she missed the latch. She grabbed it at the last minute, swung around it like they were partners in a dance, and stumbled out into the corridor. Maya could hear her drunken footsteps receding into the distance.

  Okay. Maya touched her lips, which still tingled from the contact. Okay.

  Jaedia should have been at the top of her mind. Her mentor was in danger. Maybe hurt, captured. Not dead. Maya refused to even think that, refused to admit the possibility that she wouldn’t arrive in time. But she felt that she should be going into her rescue mission with nothing on her mind but worry for Jaedia (and Marn, when she remembered him) and grim determination.

  And she could summon those emotions, when she tried. When she wasn’t trying, though, her mind… wandered.

  Two weeks on the road. The Gate wasn’t far from Uqaris, on the bor
der between the Republic and the Kingdom of Grace, but it was a long, slow trip north, even along the old Chosen road to the kingdom’s eponymous capital. Two weeks’ riding on the back of a wagon as the loadbirds plodded along, keeping watch for plaguespawn, concealing her true identity. Two weeks sharing a tent at nights with the most beautiful girl in the world, with whom she’d reached an agreement that they wanted to further investigate this kissing business.

  It was this last thought that had made it hard to sleep. Maya wondered if she was the only centarch of the Twilight Order to spend the night before her first mission masturbating until she was sore. On reflection, she decided, probably not.

  Now she stood in the Gate chamber, going through her pack one more time as she waited for Beq. The three arched Gates were empty and silent, but she could still feel the potential of them, the power awaiting her commands through deiat. An armored centarch guarded the door, as always, with two Legionaries flanking him. Maya felt his eyes on her, though it was impossible to tell if under his helm he was really watching or not.

  Focus. She touched the Thing, trying to calm herself, and looked down at her open pack. It was stuffed to bursting, tools and food fitted intricately into the available space in a way she’d never be able to replicate. Fortunately, as her supplies were used up, it made more space—

  “Maya?”

  Her head snapped up, adrenaline flooding into her veins at once. Tanax stood a little ways off, posture formal as always, his expression uncomfortable. He cleared his throat.

  “My apologies,” he said. “Centarch Maya Burningblade, I should say.”

  “Centarch Tanax Brokenedge.” Maya forced herself to meet his gaze. Her hand itched to go to her haken, which hung once again in its usual place on her hip. She kept it still with an effort. “I didn’t expect to see you before I left.”

  “You’re certainly moving quickly. The tailors can’t keep up.” He gave a weak smile at the joke; they both still wore the uniforms they’d had as agathia. “I wanted to offer my congratulations.”