I lunged, and he fended me off easily. “If you knew I’d betrayed you, then why did you spare my life?” I asked.
“Because even when you do not serve me willingly, you are useful.” He lunged toward me, and I leapt back. Getting run through with a sword in the borderland wouldn’t do anything more than wake me up. But I hadn’t found Tamar yet, and I wanted to.
“I have one question,” I said, and he held back a moment, waiting. “Did you know that Sophos would rape me? When you sent me to him?”
“You’re my daughter. Would I do that to you?”
“Yes,” I said.
“I suspected that things would not go as perfectly as planned,” Kyros said. “But I had a great deal of faith in you. More, apparently, than you deserved.” He lunged toward me again; instead of leaping back, I changed his sword into a frantic cat, which clawed him and bit his hand in its desire to get away. Kyros let it go, then spread his hands wide and smiled at me. “Do as you will, Lauria. You know you can’t hurt me here.”
Let the earth swallow him up. There was shaking, under our feet, and the ground gaped open. “Go find Zeus’s lost hell,” I said, and pushed him into the hole. I’d hoped to hear him scream as he fell, but got no such satisfaction.
The night was quiet around me. “Tamar?” I called, and then took a deep breath and shouted, as loudly as I could, “Tamar!”
The answer came as a breath of wind. Not Tamar—a djinn. I could see it tonight as a shimmer of light; it wrapped itself around me and lifted me up.
Back when I had worked for Kyros, long before he’d sent me to the Alashi, I’d once found myself in danger, with a spell-chain at my disposal. I’d ordered the djinn to pick me up and carry me bodily back to Kyros. It had been a terrifying ride, but it had set me down so gently that I hadn’t even stumbled. This ride was rougher, but less terrifying. I felt a wind, but it only whistled past my ears, it didn’t sting my eyes. When I closed my eyes, I could still see the djinn, but now I saw it like a man made of fire, his arms wrapped around me as we flew over the steppe.
Below us, the ground rippled, then thrust up into hills that became mountains. We slowed, and over the roar of wind, I could hear the trickle of water. We crested a mountain peak, and we looked down, and I saw it.
I saw a lake spreading out, vast and dark, below us. I knew it was the lake—the reservoir held in place by the djinni, the bound river. The Syr Darya. Looking around, I could see the djinni that held it. I could free them, I thought, but I’d need to really come here.
I fell, suddenly. I remembered to suck in a gasp of breath before I hit the water; I splashed silently into it and found myself going down, down, down. I realized a moment later that I was still in the grip of a djinn.
There was a light ahead; through the water, I could hear the singing of beads. It’s here, I thought. The spell-chain. But the djinn didn’t take me to see it, though I knew it was close. Instead, it drew me past the glow. Look, I heard it hiss, and I looked around, again, at what seemed like a ruined temple, walls and a gate. Look.
Stone on stone, the threshold buried under layers of sand and mud, the archway opened into a tunnel. It was dim, deep under the water, even with the glow from the spell-chain and the unnatural sight that I seemed to have when I traveled like this. But the gate opened into a richer darkness than the one that surrounded me. I could have sworn, peering in, that the water disappeared; you could step through that gate and be elsewhere…
This looks familiar, I thought, and then remembered: The Passage. Now Drowned.
Passage to what?
Could I step through it and see?
Very hesitantly, I slipped my hand through. The djinn did not stop me. I put the other hand through. Then I stepped into darkness, and darkness enveloped me. I turned back to see where I had come from, and it was gone. I was shrouded in darkness.
I am still in the borderland, I reminded myself, trying not to panic. There is always a way out.
Someone seized my hands, and pulled, and I was in the steppe again, facing Tamar.
“Lauria,” she said, joyfully. “I’d almost given up looking for you. And then Janiya said…Where are you? Are you safe?”
“I’m in Penelopeia. We got away from Kyros—well, I think we did. Are you safe?”
“Yes,” she said, though somehow I was certain she was lying. “I’ve seen Zivar. She went to Penelopeia—I think she wants to help you. But she didn’t take me along. I want to see you again.” Her hands gripped my arms. “I miss you. I’ve been traveling with Janiya and Alibek…I probably shouldn’t tell you why.”
“Don’t.”
“I want to see you again.”
“You will.” I could feel hands grasping me, pulling me away from Tamar.
“Swear to me!”
We’d each cut the palms of our right hands when we’d become blood sisters, and I pressed my right palm to hers now. “I swear by our blood. I will come back to you.”
Someone was shaking me awake; my shoulders ached from my arms being tied all night. “The searchers are close,” Xanthe said. “We need to move.”
“How? As soon as we’re out, they’ll find us, won’t they?”
“It doesn’t matter. They’ll find us here soon enough. Come on!”
I stretched my aching legs and looked down at my bare feet. Xanthe tossed me a pair of sandals and a light cloak. “You should stay here,” she said to my mother. “Just tell them I made you come along and didn’t let you go for help.”
My mother turned and looked at me—then at Xanthe, then at me again. She wanted to protect me, I realized; she wanted to be there to throw her body between me and any threat, but she also knew that she would slow us down. My chances were better if my mother stayed here. Hers, of course, were vastly better—no one was looking for her. Except for Kyros. “If you go back to Kyros, and I’m still alive, he’ll take you as a hostage,” I said.
I had expected her to deny it, but instead she lifted her chin and said, “Then I won’t go back to him.”
“You can come if you want,” I said, hesitating a moment despite the urgent fear that prickled from Xanthe like sweat.
“No,” my mother said. “Xanthe is right. You go.” She reached out and took my head in her hands, and kissed my forehead; I felt her hands clench against my hair, and then unclench as she pulled herself away. “Hurry,” she said. “Go now.”
I followed Xanthe under the rock and out to the bank of the canal. Penelopeia was a huge, sprawling city, and within a few minutes I knew that I would never find my way back the way we’d come without help. Of course, if we’re caught, we’ll have plenty of help…
Tamar had said Zivar was coming to Penelopeia. She would help me—she could help all of us. Where will she go? We are the green mice in a world of owls. Surely we will find each other somehow.
Where would she go to look for me? Well, the Koryphe, to start with. She’d find out soon enough that I’d vanished, so then what? It sounded like every aerika under the power of the Sisterhood was looking for me. She could send her own out, and some of them actually knew me and would be more likely to succeed in finding me, but still. She knew me; where would she expect me to go? Out of the city and east toward the steppe. Except, that was where the Sisterhood of Weavers no doubt expected me to go as well. I’d said once that if I were a slave escaping from Kyros, I’d head away from the steppe, hide, and wait for Kyros to give up searching before heading to freedom. Zivar was smart; she might guess that this would be my strategy. Maybe. Then again, I’d outlined my strategy to Kyros, and he was helping the Sisterhood search.
What if Zivar guessed that I knew she was here? If Tamar knew, she might assume that I knew. Then where would she go? She would want me to be able to find her. But neither of us knew the city. Where would a mouse go? The mouse who nibbles daily at the foundation of her mistress’s house. Where would she go?
I caught Xanthe’s arm. “Where is the Temple of Athena? Is there a big one?”
“A friend of mine is in the city. A sorceress. I think she might look for me there. If we can find each other, she’ll help us get away.”
“Why would she look for you there?” Xanthe asked.
“Can you think of a better place to look for a green mouse?”
“You are crazy!”
“Then can you think of a worse place to look?” I said.
“If you’re wrong, we’ll be right in the nest of the vipers that want to find you. Us.”
“We could split up.”
“I’d cut your damn throat before I let you go,” Xanthe said.
“Which way to the temple?”
“Follow me.”
Fortunately, this was one place that the Weavers were not expecting us to go. We ducked our heads as we passed guards, but no one stopped us. Xanthe led us through a maze of streets and alleys and out, finally, into a big open plaza of white marble. “We’re here,” Xanthe said. “I really hope you’re right.”
I took a furtive look around. The temple was huge. The façade arched up over the square, casting a shadow over most of it even in late morning. To get in, you had to pass a statue of Athena that was at least twenty times the height of a real woman, painted to be lifelike. They must have to have djinni touch up the paint and keep it clean, I thought, looking it over. Then I took a closer look and realized that two djinni were posted at its feet just to keep it from toppling over.
I could topple the statue—that would certainly get Zivar’s attention. Too bad it would get everyone else’s, too. I looked around for Zivar again. Is she here? Did I guess right? People streamed in and out of the big door, around the statue. Here and there, groups of women stood visiting with each other, some resting their offerings on their hips. Surely Zivar would not be in a group. Were any women waiting alone?
There.
She had seen me. I started toward her, Xanthe hurrying after me.
Then, from the doorway of the temple, I heard someone shout, “There she is! Lauria!”
“Pretend you don’t know me,” I hissed to Xanthe, but she was already falling back. I turned toward the voice; there was not much use running now. Who was it? I laughed bitterly. It was Myron, one of Kyros’s loyal Greek retainers. I’d last seen him in Daphnia, where he’d recognized me at an inconvenient time. Kyros must have sent for him just to help look for me. Few enough of the others would know my face if he saw it.
Myron was waving at me, the idiot. I waved back; why not? People were starting toward me; I could see them out of the corners of my eyes. I broke into a run, heading toward the temple as if I were going to meet Myron. No one stopped me; why run after me when they could just wait for me to come to them? Myron stood right in the doorway, a big smile on his face. “I knew it was all just some weird misunderstanding,” he said. “How have you been?”
“Great,” I said. “Never better.” Then I reached behind him to touch the two djinni at the base of the statue. “Return to the Silent Lands, lost ones of your kind, and trouble us no more.”
I had never freed two djinni at once before. Freeing even one was overwhelming enough, but I had done it enough times now that I knew what to expect. Two—I felt as if I’d tried to open a door a crack, and found it blasted open by a gust of wind strong enough to lift me off my feet. I had planned to run in the confusion after I freed the djinni, but I was riveted to the spot, unable to run even as I saw the statue begin to tip. The world slowed as it fell. Sound stopped, and I still couldn’t move. The djinn passing through the gate within me screamed something to me, begging permission of some kind, and I assented, though I wasn’t really sure what I was agreeing to.
My brothers, the djinn’s voice echoed back, and I realized a moment later that there were more djinni, all imprisoned within the same spell-chain, responsible for holding up the Temple of Athena. Since they were all so close, and imprisoned in a single spell-chain with the djinni that had been holding up the statue, they could all pass through me into the Silent Lands. Hurry, I whispered inwardly, thinking that the statue would crush me in a moment.
Do not fear.
There was warmth within me, then heat flaring outward, out to my fingers and down to my heels; my body rocked. Closing my eyes, I thought I could see through the gate. I’d always pictured the world of the djinni as dim and shadowy, like the borderland, but I saw a light as bright as the sun. The secret of flight, I thought, and wondered what would happen if I stepped through the gate.
Not this one, one of the djinni said. Not here.
I’m going to die, you know.
Not today.
I could hear thunder. No, not thunder. It was the temple falling. And then I felt a jerk, as someone—something?—grabbed me off my feet. “I am Zivar’s aeriko. Don’t fight me,” a voice said in my ear.
The gate had closed; I was myself again. And I had been jerked inside a palanquin. Blue and white silk fluttered around us: Zivar and Xanthe were both inside.
“What did you do?” Zivar asked.
“You are the spider,” Xanthe said. I was uncertain if her voice held respect or loathing.
I drew the silk to the side and peered out. The temple was collapsing, one section after another falling in a crash of marble and dust. Zivar had pulled me out in the midst of the confusion. I let the curtain fall shut again and sat back against the cushion.
“You’re going to tell me what’s going on,” Zivar said. “Everything.”
“Of course,” I said. “But first, can we get away from here?”
“Far, far away,” Zivar agreed.
I relaxed against the cushion for a moment, then asked, “How far?”
“The land with no night,” Zivar said. “If I’m going to have to travel by palanquin, I’m going to take it somewhere I haven’t seen a thousand times.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
TAMAR
They’re treating us pretty well for a couple of thieves.”
“Shh. I’m sure they’re listening to us.”
“All I said was…”
“Just shut up, Alibek. I know what you said.”
We were alone. The room was windowless, but otherwise pleasant. There was a lamp for light, a tray of little cakes, and a pot of tea. The chairs had cushions. We’d been thrust inside and left to wait. And wait. And wait. I thought they probably wanted us to talk to each other—that’s why they’d put us in the room together. They were listening to us.
Even knowing they were listening, it was hard to keep silent. I wanted to ask Alibek if he thought they’d found Janiya. If he thought they’d execute us for our karenite, or guess we were spies. If Zivar would get in trouble. I chewed my lip and stayed silent.
Alibek laced his fingers together, pulled them apart, and laced them together again. I saw mockery in his eyes, but if I let him bait me, we might let something slip. I turned away from him to pace.
The door opened. I expected a sorceress, but a priestess came in with two guards. She sat down, arranged her hands, and gave us a bland smile. “First, I’d like to make sure you understand the seriousness of your crime,” she said. “Soul-stone is the property of the Goddess Athena. Her rightful custodians are her priestesses and the Sisterhood of Weavers. By trading soul-stone, you have committed theft from Athena herself. Your lives are forfeit. The method of execution is…most unpleasant.”
I shuddered. But I knew that they must want something from us, or we’d already be dead.
“However, I have the power to grant you a reprieve,” she said. “Should you hand over all your soul-stone, immediately, I will arrange for your punishment to be lightened significantly.”
“Lightened to what?” I asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Alibek said. “We have nothing. You can search us and search our room—in fact, I’m sure you already have. You won’t find anything.”
The priestess’s
smile never wavered. “We’re not stupid,” she said. “We’ve searched your room, of course, but we know you left your soul-stone somewhere outside the city. Hidden, or with a confederate. We want it.”
“And?” I said. I still wanted to know—if we handed our karenite over, would she let us just go free? Because we could always go up to the steppe to get more.
“You’re not in a position to bargain,” she said. “If we find what you’re hiding before you tell us where to look, the deal’s off. And don’t think we aren’t searching.”
If Janiya knew we’d been captured, she’d already be on the run, and I didn’t think they’d find her. So I just waited.
“If you hand over your soul-stone, we will spare your lives.”
“No deal unless you promise our freedom,” Alibek said.
“We will free one of you. That one can go get another load of soul-stone and trade it for the freedom of the other.”
“How on earth would we get soul-stone without money?” Alibek said. “You seem to think we’d just go dig for it. If you’re not going to pay for what you’re planning to take, we won’t be able to get more.”
“Maybe not this month, or this year. Eventually, I’m sure you will.” The priestess’s smile grew wider. She thought she had us.
I shrugged. “I don’t trust you,” I said. “What’s to stop you from taking our soul-stone and cutting our throats?”
“Believe me, if you don’t deliver it up to us, you’ll wish for a death so quick and painless.”
If it had been just the two of us, I might have taken the deal. But there was no way to hand over the karenite without handing over Janiya. Did I trust any of the Weavers? Zivar, but I wasn’t bringing her into this. But thinking of Zivar reminded me of the names she’d given me. One of them had been someone important…
“There’s only one person in this city I would trust the word of,” I said. Alibek looked up, startled. “Hypatia,” I went on. “The Weaver Hypatia. If she promises me that both of us will walk free, I will show her where to find the soul-stone.”
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