A Magic of Twilight nc-1

by S L Farrell

  “I realize that,” ca’Cellibrecca said. “Starkkapitan ca’Linnett should have ordered his men to pursue. I told the man so, but he wouldn’t listen to me.” Ca’Cellibrecca shook his head. “Now we’ll have to contend with them at Nessantico. I’ve been thinking about this, my Hirzg. If we take our troops, and divide them so that we come in from the north and west as well as the east. .”

  Jan interrupted the man with a snarl. “Come here a moment, Archigos-I need to show you something.”

  Ca’Cellibrecca walked across the room toward him; Jan stepped aside to let him stand before the window, his nose wrinkling at the smell of incense clinging to the man’s robes. “What is it you want me to see?”

  ca’Cellibrecca asked, and Jan caught the man’s green robes in his fists and pushed him forward hard. Ca’Cellibrecca squalled in fright but his hands flailed only at cold air. Jan could see shards of glass digging into the rolls of the man’s waist. Overbalanced, ca’Cellibrecca was heavier than Jan had expected; he had to brace himself to keep from losing his grip entirely.

  “Can you fly, Archigos?” Jan asked as the man shouted in alarm.

  “Can Cenzi give you wings like a bird?”

  “My Hirzg. . Pull me back up!”

  “Shut up,” Jan told him. “You look more like a cow than a bird to me, Archigos. That’s what you are, Archigos: a cow. As long as you give me the milk of Cenzi, I will keep you. If you can’t be my cow, then I have U’Teni cu’Kohnle to serve as such. Frankly, I don’t really care which one of you it is as long as you give me what I want from you. I don’t need you to be a bird and tell me about bird matters unless you can demonstrate to me how well you fly. I already have a starkkapitan, but maybe you think you’re a better strategist, eh? We can find out now.

  So tell me, Archigos, because my arms are tired and I can’t hold you for much longer: are you a cow, or are you a bird?”

  He shook the man and heard the sound of cloth ripping. Ca’Cellibrecca screamed. “I’m a cow! A cow!” Jan could see his arms flailing. People were looking up from the ground and pointing to the Archigos.

  “Louder,” he called to the Archigos, shaking him again. “I can’t hear you. They can’t hear you.”

  “I’m a cow!” the man screamed. He could hear the bellowing reverberate in the streets below. “I am a cow, my Hirzg!”

  “Moo for me then, Cow,” Jan said. “Let us hear you moo.”

  Ca’Cellibrecca gulped. He mooed, a plaintive wail sounding over and over again, as if he were one of the wind-horns of the temple. Jan could hear laughter in the streets below.

  “That will do,” Jan said, and pulled the man back up. The Archigos’

  hair was disheveled and blood stained his robes where the glass had sliced through the cloth into the flesh underneath. “I would advise you to attend to your cow matters, Archigos. We will be leaving Passe a’Fiume in the morning.”

  Mahri

  The leather pouch on his belt felt heavy against Mahri’s thigh, a glass ball the size of a child’s fist nestled within it. Placing the X’in Ka inside the ball had cost him an entire night’s sleep, but doubts still plagued him.

  The signs aren’t clear enough. They never are when they concern her. .

  The wind-horns on the Temple of Cenzi sounded, echoed by the horns on all the temples as well as the bells of the Kraljiki’s Palais.

  With the clamor, the new Archigos appeared in the traditional middle tower window to wave to the throngs of the faithful. . though the throngs were far fewer than those which usually greeted a new Archigos. Nessantico’s population had been decimated: most men were away with the army swelling beyond the eastern gates, and many citizens had decided that visiting relatives in towns to the west would be an excellent idea. The temple square was full and cheers rose toward the new Archigos, but the crowd didn’t overflow out into the Avi

  a’Parete, the cheers were less than deafening and more rehearsed than authentic. The heralds had already announced that, due to the current crisis, Archigos Ana the First would forgo the traditional procession around the city; after a few minutes and a blessing called out over the onlookers in a thin, nervous voice, the crowd dispersed quickly except for the ca’-and-cu’ who filed into the Archigos’ Temple to witness Ana’s initial service.

  As the citizenry walked away toward home and businesses, the air was alive with gossip, and Mahri caught snatches of it as they passed him.

  “. . told me that she’s already agreed to marry the Kraljiki. She might as well be one of the grandes horizontals . .”

  “. . seems that when the Kraljiki’s wishes aren’t followed he’ll just create his own Concenzcia. .”

  “. . that the Numetodo will be welcome in the city. From what I hear, ci’Vliomani’s title of envoy has been restored. .”

  Mahri smiled grimly. He touched the glass ball once more and wrapped his cloak around him. Sheltered against one of the buildings across the square, he invoked a quick spell, and the air shimmered around him as if he were enclosed in water. He walked across the courtyard and into the temple, knowing that casual eyes would only see a heat-shimmer if they glanced at him. Inside the temple, he found a dark niche to one side of the nave. There, he settled in to watch as Ana and a retinue of a’ and u’teni went through the rituals of the High Worship.

  He listened to Ana’s fledgling Admonition from the High Lectern. Her Admonition was largely a tribute to Archigos Dhosti’s memory and a plea for tolerance.

  “. . remember that Archigos Dhosti realized that there are more things in the world than we can imagine, and that even Nessantico must change. With Kraljica Marguerite, we were lulled by peace for too long a time, and we woke to find that there were movements afoot that we had not seen because we didn’t want to see them. We were afraid. We can no longer be afraid; we can no longer close our eyes and pretend that all is as we wish it to be. We must embrace those who can help us, because without their help, we cannot survive. My. .” Mahri heard the pause, saw the almost-amused grimace that accompanied the hesitation. “. . predecessor as Archigos had a fondness for quoting the Divolonte. I tell you that I hold those laws in no less regard than he.

  Let me quote: ‘As child grows to adult, so must the Divolonte grow.’ We have no choice but to accept such change now. The Concenzia Faith

  is emerging from a long, quiet childhood; from the sheltering arms of its parents into a world that is dangerous and uncomfortable. We are Nessantico. We are the Holdings, and we are great and we are vast, but there are those who would destroy our greatness with their petty, narrow concerns. I tell you this: to contend with the rest of the world, we must also be willing to learn from it.”

  There was silence in the temple when she finished speaking, then came a susurrus of whispers among the ca’-and-cu’ gathered there. He saw them lean toward each other with faces grim and frowning; he could see the mouthed word “Numetodo” on their lips even if he could not hear it. If Ana had hoped to convince the ca’-and-cu’, she’d not succeeded, not if their posture was any indication. Even the Kraljiki, in attendance in the royal alcove to the left of the High Lectern, seemed uncomfortable with her words, and none of the a’teni on the dais with her were smiling. Karl was in attendance also, in a rear alcove of the temple with people who Mahri knew to be among the remaining local Numetodo. They were also grim, watching the reaction.

  The rest of the service went quickly. When Ana gave the Blessing of Cenzi to the attendants, they left the temple quickly while Ana and the a’teni went to the vestry at the rear of the building.

  Mahri, in his niche, sighed and closed his eyes. His hand touched the glass ball in its pouch. She would want this now. He knew it. He hurried toward the vestry, stopping in the shadows at the edge of the nave. Several of the e’ and o’teni attendants waited there for their superiors to emerge, talking softly among themselves. Ana and the other a’teni of the Conclave were inside the closed doors.

  He could feel the X’in Ka swirling about hi
m, and he let down the barriers of his mind to bring it in. He spoke softly so that the teni would not hear him; his hands swayed and turned and cupped the air. This spell was long and complicated, and it would utterly exhaust him later.

  It would also cost him a few years of his life. But again it was necessary, as it had been necessary in the past.

  He knew the sacrifices that were demanded of him. He’d agreed to them long, long ago.

  The world shifted around him. The very air hushed. The sound of the e’ and o’teni’s voices became low and almost unheard. He moved, and it was as if he were pushing his body through sand. Each step was a labor, and it seemed to take him days to reach the vestry doors a dozen strides away and slide past the living statues of the teni. It took nearly all his strength to push one of the doors open and shut it again.

  Around him, Ana and the a’teni were frozen, caught in the midst of removing their gilded outer vestments from the service. The crown of the Archigos lay on the seat of the chair next to Ana; she was still leaning over, her hands open as if she had just laid down the golden band.

  He went up to her and put his finger along the side of her neck. He took her presence in his mind, holding it. He felt her lurch into motion, heard her gasp.

  “It’s just my finger,” Mahri said in his broken, raspy voice. “It might as easily have been a knife.”

  Ana straightened, taking a stumbling step back from him. She glanced quickly around the vestry, seeing the others snared in midmotion. Her eyes narrowed, her lips pressed together. “You betrayed me, Mahri. You gave me to the Kraljiki.”

  “Yes,” he answered calmly. “I gave you to the Kraljiki. And look at where you are now.”

  “You didn’t know that would happen.”

  “It was by far the most likely scenario. Tell me, Ana, if I had advised you and Karl to surrender yourselves to the Kraljiki, would you have done it? You don’t have to answer; I already know. And so do you.”

  She started to protest, but he spoke over her. The X’in Ka burned inside him as he held them both in the spell, searing him from the inside; he wanted to scream with the pain. He could almost feel the new scars rippling his already-savaged face. He had to release her, quickly, or the fire would begin to consume her as well. “Not much time,” he said. “I came to give you this.” He untied the pouch from his belt and handed it to her. It seemed heavier than before as he placed it in her palm. “Inside the ball is this very spell,” he told her, gesturing at the unmoving people around them. “It takes you outside the constraints of time. Say my name when you hold the ball in your hand, and the spell will release.”

  “Why?” The single word hung there as she looked at the pouch, as she glanced at the glittering orb inside, shimmering with soft orange light.

  “You will need it. Think, Ana: it could have been a knife at your throat and not my finger. I give you the same power-to hold time still and do whatever it is you need to do. I’ll tell you this, also, a saying we have in the Westlands: a snake without its head cannot strike you.”

  She shook her head, but Mahri closed his eyes and released her from the spell. She froze in mid-protest, and he walked laboriously to the door, as rapidly as he could in the gelid air. As soon as he was out of the temple, he released the spell entirely, almost falling to the stone flags of the court as the X’in Ka flowed out from him and the world surged into motion again.

  He hurried away toward Oldtown, toward the bed into which he would collapse for the next few days.

  Ana ca’Seranta

  “…a snake without its head cannot strike,” Mahri said.

  Ana shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean,” she started to say, but a sudden disorientation came over her in that moment, and Mahri vanished while the teni in the vestry with her lurched back to sudden life.

  The disorientation felt oddly familiar. She couldn’t quite decide why.

  She was holding the pouch in her hand. The leather was supple and worn; the weight inside was heavy and she remembered the glow of it, the color of a dying sun behind clouds. She tucked it quickly into a pocket of her green robes. None of the a’teni noticed; none of them were looking at her. None of them had looked at her since she’d left the High Lectern. Colin ca’Cille, Alain ca’Fountaine, Joca ca’Sevini, all the others: they were old men, all of them. At least a few of them had har-bored aspirations to be Archigos themselves, and they would all rather have been in their own cities than trapped here in Nessantico with the Hirzg’s army approaching. She could feel their resentment, palpable.

  “You’re all blind,” she told them. They glanced at her now, startled.

  “You’re so folded into yourselves that you can’t see,” she told them. Her hands were trembling, as if from the exhaustion of a spell. “I need all of you to leave me now. Send Kenne in to me as you go.”

  “Archigos,” one of them said: ca’Sevini of Chivasso. From his expression, her title seemed to taste like fish oil. “You’ve already made a terrific mistake today with the Admonition you gave the ca’-and-cu’.

  You’re making another now. The Kraljiki may have been able to force your ascension on us in this terrible time, but if you have any hope of ever being more than just Archigos in title, then you need our cooperation. Showing arrogance isn’t the way to gain it-not when someone else still claims the title of Archigos. You can’t dismiss us as if we were inconvenient e’teni.”

  Ana had no answer for him, or, rather, she had too many. People like you have been telling me what I must do all my life, from my vatarh to the Kraljiki. She wanted to spit the bile back at him. But past the anger, she knew he was at least partially right, no matter how much she wanted to deny it. She could not be Archigos without their support. She would not survive the coming battle without them; she especially could not risk their defecting to ca’Cellibrecca.

  There will be a time to assert yourself. This isn’t it. She could almost imagine Dhosti’s voice saying the words.

  She managed, if not to smile, to at least not frown. “You’re right, and I apologize, A’Teni ca’Sevini. Cenzi knows, I deserved your rebuke, and I thank you for having the courage to speak bluntly. Please, I ask all of you for forgiveness: I know we must work together, especially now.”

  She didn’t know if it mollified them. A few nodded; ca’Sevini actually showed his few remaining teeth in a brief smile. She put away the service vestments and left the vestry as quickly as she could, calling Kenne-newly returned to the city-to her. “You saw no one outside, Kenne?” she asked. “Mahri?”

  Kenne shook his head, a bit wide-eyed. “No, Archigos. There was no one in the hall but us. Why?”

  She shook her head. “Never mind. I need you to do something for me. . ”

  Karl hugged her as soon as Kenne closed the door behind him. “Are you sure it’s a good thing for a Numetodo to be seen coming to the Archigos’ office?” he asked. “People might talk, especially after your Admonition today.”

  “At this point I’m beyond caring,” she told him.

  He laughed, throatily, and pulled her to him. She allowed herself to sink into the embrace. Karl’s arms tightened around her, and she closed her eyes so that there was only that hug, that comfort, that moment.

  Karl finally pulled away, and she opened her eyes again to see him looking around the room: the huge desk behind which Dhosti had sat for many years, that ca’Cellibrecca had desecrated with his presence most recently; the throne-chair at one end of the large room where Dhosti had sat for formal receptions of visitors; the gilded images of the Moitidi carved into the cornices; the massive broken globe, gilded and ornate and held in puffs of wooden clouds, looming over the main doors.

  “Impressive,” he said. “Have you tried out the throne yet?”

  She shook her head. “This isn’t the time for jests, Karl,” she told him. “Right now, I need you to be the Envoy for the Numetodo.” She took his hands. “Mahri came to me, after the service.”

  Karl scowled. His hands sque
ezed hers. “Traitorous bastard. Handing us over like that. .”

  She shook her head. She touched the leather pouch tied to the belt of her robes, and she could feel the throbbing of the Ilmodo trapped within it. But she didn’t tell Karl about it or show him the small globe inside. She held back, and she wondered at that. “I’m not so certain. I thought the same after he handed us over to the gardai, but now. .”

  She shivered and stepped back from Karl. “I don’t know what Mahri wants, or why he does what he does, but I think he knew that neither of us would be long imprisoned.”

  Karl moved his jaw as if remembering the ache of the silencer.

  “What did he want?”

  Ana shrugged and dropped his hands. “I don’t know,” she said.

  “Not really. He. . gave me something, but what it does. .” She shook her head, catching her upper lip in her teeth momentarily. “I won’t last as Archigos, Karl. I think Mahri knows that, and Kraljiki Justi, and ca’Cellibrecca and the rest of the a’teni. I’ve been given the title because none of the a’teni would take it right now, not with the strong possibility that ca’Cellibrecca might return as Archigos when this is all over. I’m just the False Archigos, the Kraljiki’s Archigos.”

  “They can’t all feel that way.”

  She nodded vigorously. “That’s the way nearly all of them are thinking. Yes, there are some teni who support me: U’Teni Dosteau-and I must promote him; that would be a small help-Kenne, most of the

  e’teni and o’teni who were part of Archigos Dhosti’s staff, even a few of the u’teni. But the a’teni. .” A breath. “At best, they will do no more than they absolutely must just in case the Kraljiki does win. They’ll wait and see what happens when the Hirzg’s army comes. I have a title, Karl; that’s all.”

  “And you want more than that.”

  A smile emerged momentarily. “You know me better than I thought. Yes. I want more.”