Seeing the cathedral from the far end of the bridge that led to its doors, those who were deemed unworthy to enter would never guess that inside it could fit the entirety of the Sulekiel species...
Well, not everyone, Sage thought.
Torches burned bright at the beginning and end of the bridge, and two guards stood towering above the crowds atop stone platforms on either side of the vaulted copper doors, wearing ceremonial black and gold robes. The guards were waving people through, making sure to check for anyone with the skin brands and telltale white robes that would mark an undesired presence here. Not that a healer would be caught dead trying to enter a forbidden zone, but High Elder Geidra was nothing if not paranoid.
They strode through the main gate to the cathedral. The guards gave Sage a sneer and a glare respectively, and his grandfather asked him what he’d done to deserve it this time.
Sage didn’t reply. The answer was the same as every other time.
Nothing. And everything.
The cathedral’s main hall was a bowl-shaped amphitheater, with seats made of stone descending toward a large stage. Elder Geidra watched carefully, with her seven Elders, as Sulekiel found their way to their seats. They, though close to a thousand processions each, needed no guards to protect them.
Elder Geidra’s gaze met his, and her eyes narrowed at him. Sage grinned, and the High Elder averted her eyes.
Sage observed the crowds gathering, and as he followed his grandparents down the central staircase that would lead them to their seats, something snapped in him.
He wasn’t sure what made him do it. Maybe it was Takarus’s warning, or maybe it was his grandfather’s insinuation that he should forget the “freaks” he hung out with in favor of Takarus in order to better his station. Whatever the case was, the thought of being cooped up with tens of thousands of these people made him sick.
He wanted out.
Sage waited for the right moment. His grandparents were distracted, talking with old friends, the ones who still dared to associate with them, anyway. He donned his hood, sank away from them into the crowd, and kept going till his back touched the cathedral wall.
Stretching his head back, he caught sight of the wooden rafters hundreds of feet above. He followed the wall, avoiding direct eye contact with other Sulekiel. There, near the stage itself, was a stone stairwell that led to the second floor of the structure, which was hidden behind the wall that stretched up to the ceiling and the rafters.
The second floor would be occupied, so he’d have to get into the rafters above the amphitheater. There was a ladder access point along the curve of the stairwell used for maintenance. If he could get to the rafters and wait out the crowds, he might just be able to get out without anyone noticing.
Once Sage reached the halfway point up the winding staircase, and he was out of sight of prying eyes, he found the ladder and made his way up.
From up here, he could see nearly the entirety of his species gathered below in the seats that cascaded up to the vaulted copper doors. How many of them were there? Less than one hundred thousand?
He looked up. The rafters were spread out more than four feet apart, connected by beams that ran along the length of the cathedral’s first-floor ceiling. It was a tight fit, and it was dark.
There was an open window on the other side of the chamber, right above the vaulted doors that he and his grandparents had just come through. To get over there, he’d have to crawl along the length of a crossbeam and hope he didn’t slip and fall onto the heads of some unsuspecting Sulekiel family.
No Sulen, he thought. If I use any, Kiel will sense me, and it’ll all be over.
Using only his muscles, he stretched out, reaching for the wooden beam. He pushed off the rafter and slid onto—
His grip slipped!
Sage thrust his hands out and caught himself before he fell to the crowds below. Dangling there, completely exposed, all it would take was for one person to look up and his escape would be over.
Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea? Sage thought. If they catch me up here, they’ll claim I was trying to flee the city...
He’d have to swing himself back up to one of those rafters, and fast. Embers filled his muscles. He couldn’t hang there forever without using power.
He had a brief vision of himself, shackled with abaniel, sitting on a raft alone in the middle of the ocean, waiting for death.
Screw them, he thought.
Sage swung himself back, and then forward, and leapt out to the next rafter.
He caught onto it, and, breathing a sigh of relief, pulled himself up and made his way over to the window far above the vaulted doors, taking extra care to keep his grip tight. He could hear the river rushing outside. Hopefully the guards wouldn’t have the good sense to patrol over there.
The crowd quieted down. Sage paused, then almost lost his footing as High Elder Geidra took to the podium.
Geidra silenced the crowd with a single gesture. He could practically feel her Sulen reaching out, filling the chamber, a medium which would aid her voice in reaching even those at the back of the cathedral. She wasted several minutes on the usual pleasantries and greetings to her people, droning through several mundane awards that were to be given out to established Valier—even one to his teacher, Kiel. Sage watched Kiel’s crimson cloak glide across the floor of the stage.
In many ways, Takarus looked much like his father, but Kiel kept his head shaved in remembrance of his late mate. The anger still burned bright in his golden eyes, even as the man approached Geidra and bowed to her, receiving an award for excellence. Kiel took his place with his Captains, standing next to the Elders..
Elder Geidra’s face became very grave. The pleasantries were over. “I’m afraid I have some very bad news. Kiel has informed me that a battle erupted in a small Masku town near the summit of the mountain. A small group of our informants were outed as monsters to the local populace by a Shar scout disguised as an ordinary Masku citizen. Our people were slaughtered in the battle, and the town was reduced to ashes.
“We must assume that the Shar know about us, and may even suspect that we dwell beneath their very feet. The Valier who inform on the Masku, blending into their society without raising suspicion from the Shar, are in grave danger.”
Sage rolled his eyes. Speaking of monsters.
The pronouncement drew a ruckus from the crowds, some asking if family members who had been sent above ground would be coming home, others shouting that they should be preparing for another war with the Shar.
The High Elder held her hand up to silence the crowd again. “I assure you all, we are doing everything we can to protect our operatives.” She sighed; even from this distance, her eyes seemed to lose some of the familiar strength that Sage had gotten so used to seeing her exude in proceedings like this. “To tell you the truth, we have grown soft, complacent, living down here in the dark with only crystals and our own connection to the Sulen to light our dreary lives.
“The Shar are very cunning, and they hide themselves carefully from the Masku. For what reason, we’re not sure. For some reason, while our numbers have dwindled to just under one hundred thousand, the Masku have been allowed to grow and encompass most of Giridesh. Perhaps they’ve even colonized beyond the ocean’s reach, where our cities likely still lie in ruin. Our informants tell us that the Shar have taken to posing as gods that the Masku worship openly.
“Malo’thul’s Seed still rules them,” she said, “and you would do well to remember our long history with their god, and all the blood of our brothers and sisters that was spilled due to our blind obedience to its desires.”
The crowd gasped at the mere mention of Malo’thul’s name; even Sage felt a pang of dread wash over him, as if a hoard of spiders covered him like a cloak.
“The Shar are expanding their search patterns for us, and being so close to Yce Ralakar, this battle—no, this massacre—is most troubling.” Elder Geidra lowered her head. “It should be a wake-
up call to us. We must not grow complacent. The Shar, and those who rule over them, want us dead.
“A new war is coming.”
So dramatic, Sage thought. And how funny, that none of us have even seen a Shar, save for Geidra and everyone who bows their knee to her?
That was his cue. Enough doom and gloom for one morning. Sage crept along the rafters till he was at the window.
“—one of our most trusted informants believes that they’re building something beneath the City of Elokor—”
He pressed his weight against the window and pushed it open, then slid down into a crouch on the ledge. He turned back and gave the crowd one last look—tossed them an obscene gesture—and shut the window behind him. He wouldn’t risk taking the bridge. Someone could be watching it.
He crept along the curvature of the dome, following the ledge, and stopped once he had a clear sight of the other side of the moat. It was at least fifty feet across. He leapt into the air, allowing his body to tumble into a roll on the other side of the rushing river.
Sage breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that he was free of Geidra’s apocalyptic nonsense.
3
Sage crept along the cavernous corridors and darkened walkways of Yce Ralakar. It was strange to be all alone in the city in the middle of first moon. If he was feeling especially brave, he might dare to walk out in the open. It was likely there were no Valier roaming the city walkways.
He wouldn’t risk it, though. Even he wasn’t that arrogant.
Sage entered the long, dark cavern that would lead him to his destination. He breathed a sigh of relief once he saw the warning signs left up to keep people out of the Urdys Quarter. The portion of the city where the “freaks” lived.
Two vaulted copper doors with intricate warding sigils carved into them marked the entrance to the Urdys Quarter. The curls and slashes in the warding sigils signified these doors were meant to keep things in rather than to keep things out...
They were typically closed.
High Elder Geidra went to great lengths to ensure the healers knew their place.
Sage opened one of the doors and slipped inside.
CHAPTER TWO
KIRANA
Kirana twisted around, strangling the life out of the dress robes she wore, which bore her family’s colors. It was all she could do to hold in her indignation.
Sage’s grandfather was frantically glancing around the cathedral, scanning over the thousands upon thousands of faces in the crowd, while his mate sat solemnly and quietly—no doubt trying to hide her worry and shame, pretending that nothing was amiss.
Kirana’s eyebrows creased together; her lips parted into a sneer.
Father had been right. Sage was nowhere to be found.
Kirana turned back around and let her back rest against the cool stone bench while her anger flared deep in her center.
“Your friend did it again. What did you say to him?” Kirana whispered to her brother.
Takarus shook his head, obviously a desperate attempt to feign innocence. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
“When Father finds out you’ve helped him, you’ll be forced to balance naked on the Pillars of Thought for a month!”
“That would be true if I was guilty.” Takarus paused a moment too long, looking extra dim-witted. “Which I’m not.”
“Honestly, brother, I don’t know why you associate with that degenerate.”
Takarus grinned. “Maybe he’s my kind of degenerate?”
“I certainly hope not, for your sake.”
Elder Geidra was still lecturing the hall, filled with the last remaining Sulekiel in the world—save one ungrateful son of a traitor—on the dangers of the Shar and the looming final battle that was sure to come if they were ever to find Yce Ralakar.
Kirana had stopped listening several minutes ago, and instead had been combing the great domed chamber, the long descending rows of stairs, the stage, and the congregation, for her father’s face.
She could see the seven Captains of the Valier: one of citrine skin and ruby hair, one of blue skin and white hair, one of coral skin and hair like obsidian, one with skin like amethyst and golden hair. At the end of their line stood Dirkus the Third, with his pale silver skin and hairless scalp, one of the shortest Valier she’d ever known; but not her father’s familiar coal skin and silver eyebrows.
He’d just received an award for excellence; she’d been so focused on High Elder Geidra’s speech that she must have missed his departure.
Kirana stood up, excusing herself from her row and edging out onto the damp stone staircase that led out of the cathedral. She had to find Father—and Sage had to be punished. She could feel her brother’s disapproving gaze track her up the stairs.
Quietly, she asked the guardsmen to let her out, and they bowed, letting her pass.
The doors shut behind her, making a sound like someone had hit the great gong that marked the start of the Trials. The sound echoed into the empty city as she crossed the bridge and frantically searched the city for her father.
Kirana wasn’t used to seeing the city so empty. It was an eerie feeling. It made her feel like a ghost.
She couldn’t feel her father’s Sulen...he must be suppressing it down to nothing so he could catch Sage.
Kirana smiled, finding the main path. There was a sign pointing alongside the path of the river to the main gate. If she had to guess, that’s where he’d be.
She crouched low and gathered her Sulen in her limbs, then felt the wind burst through her as she launched herself along the twisting and turning path of the river, reaching her top speed in a matter of seconds. Moving at that speed, she could find the main gate in mere minutes.
2
Kirana found Father at the main gate, ten miles from the cathedral. The gate was made of solid rock, designed to look like a natural formation of the inner cave system. He was standing with his hands to his back, fingers clutching his leather bracers taut, his crimson-and-silver-lined cloak billowing in time with the roar of the river.
Kirana stood next to him; he did not meet her gaze.
“You should be inside,” Father said.
“I noticed Sage was not there. His grandfather searches for him frantically.”
“And why do you think I’m out here, instead of beside my fellow Valier?”
“Do you sense him?”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “The boy is still within the walls of the city. He stopped suppressing his Sulen a little while ago. It seems he’s gone to the Urdys Quarter.”
Kirana spat at the river. “You can’t let him get away with this, Father! What if Sage and those undesirables are meeting with the traitor as we speak?”
“This again? Kyrties is dead.” The look on her father’s face told her he believed it. “And furthermore, I do not need to be told my duty by a child.”
Kirana stared at her feet. “Sorry, Father.”
“You forget yourself. I am in charge of the Valier, and I am your teacher. These are my concerns, and they are not for a little girl who can’t seem to mind her own business. Return to the cathedral and mind High Elder Geidra’s words warily. I will deal with Sage.”
She bowed. “Yes, Father.”
Kirana sprinted back to the cathedral, fearing Father’s wrath if she didn’t move as fast as her body would allow. She pounded on the vaulted metal doors. The doors creaked open. The guards inside let her pass.
Elder Geidra was still speaking, but her eyes broke with the crowd and briefly found hers. Maybe she knew what Sage had done?
Kirana began walking back to her seat.
“Back so soon?” A familiar mockery-filled voice reached her ears. The girl stood from her seat at the top of the amphitheater and approached her. She had violet hair and pale citrine skin. Her eyes were thin, sharp, golden, and full of contempt for her.
Kirana stopped. They were at the top of the middle staircase. So far, the girl’s low taunts hadn’t drawn anythi
ng more than annoyed whispers for them both to sit back down.
“Reysha,” Kirana whispered. “I’m surprised you even came out to the cathedral. I figured you’d have joined Sage in his delinquency.”
“Are you trying to insult me or compliment me?” Reysha’s lips twisted into a mocking grin; she stopped several steps above her. Her eyes glared down at Kirana with complete indifference to her status.
“I’m merely speaking the truth.”
Reysha laughed, brushing her long flowing hair aside, as if she was shooing Kirana away like an insect. “What you believe, and what the truth is, are very different things, little Valier.”
“What did you call me?” Kirana was having difficulty keeping her voice to a whisper.
“That is what you are, isn’t it?” Reysha whispered. “A wannabe Valier with none of the skill, daddy’s obedient pet?”
“Obedient pet?” Kirana could feel the blood rushing to her face. Her hands tightened into fists. “I am daughter of Kiel, Commander of the Valier, teacher to three generations of Sulekiel! It is in my blood to command!”
“No, it’s not.” Reysha got uncomfortably close, shoving her index finger into Kirana’s sternum. “The only thing you’re worthy of is cleaning the bathing pools.”
A loud crack sounded through the cathedral, drawing unwanted stares. Kirana’s fist barreled into Reysha’s face, knocking her back into her seat.
Reysha lay on the stone steps of the amphitheater, her eyes full of contempt. She got to her feet slowly, wiping a rivulet of blood from the left side of her lip. “Is that all? I’ve had children hit me harder.”
“You bitch!” Kirana lunged at her—only to be yanked off her feet by one of the guardsmen who’d hurried to the noise.
“What is the meaning of this interruption!” Elder Geidra’s voice boomed through the cathedral, louder than Kirana had ever heard it before.
Blood rushed to Kirana’s face. She’d completely forgotten herself. The entire city had seen what she’d done, and as she dangled there in the Valier’s grasp, she saw their eyes glaring at her.
The Man Without Hands Page 3