Emissary

by Fiona McIntosh

  Zafira sneered. “Protection of sorts. If Maliz suspects who Ana is, he would already be making moves to destroy her.”

  “Well, he obviously doesn’t suspect yet, but we have to be very careful. That’s why I think you should leave the temple, leave Percheron.”

  “What prompted this? Your discovering his identity?”

  “Everything! Tariq, Lazar deciding to return to the city, which will reveal you as a liar. And, I discovered that Ana’s been formally chosen by Boaz. She will be presented tonight. There’s so much to discuss but no time.”

  The priestess did not seem perturbed by any of this news. “Does Ana know about her role in all of this?”

  “Yes. I spoke to her. She accepts it.”

  “She has known all along. She just had to find the truth deep within. She was drawn to Lyana’s statue, the temple; she knew.”

  Pez sighed, frustrated. “I wish I knew what happens next. I hate all this waiting.”

  “None of us ever knows, Pez. That’s how it always is. We fight when required.”

  “Fight? How?” He aired his thoughts aloud only through frustration. Pez knew Zafira had no answers.

  She shook her head helplessly. “I really don’t know. That’s why I won’t leave.”

  “You have to leave,” he insisted. “You are in danger here.”

  “More danger than you or Ana?” Pez remained silent and she continued. “Don’t be naive, Pez. I felt the danger before you did. You may recall our conversation here thirteen moons ago or so when I mentioned that I felt I was part of something but didn’t know what. I was frightened, you may also remember.”

  “I do.”

  “Well, I’m still frightened, but now I know what I’m part of and I won’t run from it. Lazar’s return is the least of my worries. This is my calling. This is why I’m here. I just wish I wasn’t so old and useless to her cause, but still Lyana has chosen me as she has chosen you and Ana.”

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps I’ve already played my part. Perhaps in having conversations with you and Lazar on the evening of the choosing, and then Ana that same night, my role is already done. The temple is where we have all met. It might be that I bind us through the temple, which is the focus of Lyana in Percheron—all that is left of her.”

  “Not all,” Pez countered. “The stone creatures echo her rule.”

  “What use are they to her now?” she asked, hopelessness in her voice.

  “Who knows? When we were moving Lazar from the temple on the day of his flogging to Star Island for secrecy, Ellyana made us row her up to Beloch so she could touch him—perhaps we should read something into that gesture?”

  “Bah, that was out of respect.”

  “No, Zafira. I paid attention. She spoke to him. It was a chant or a prayer or maybe just words of encouragement. I couldn’t hear what she said but I understood its intent. She was communicating with the giant.”

  The priestess appeared skeptical. “What’s your point?”

  Pez shook his head ruefully. “I have no point. I feel like I’m plowing through a swamp in my thoughts. I have only seemingly meaningless observations to offer.”

  “You think the stone creatures of Percheron are somehow involved in our struggle?” Zafira persisted incredulously.

  He knew it sounded ridiculous. “As you say, none of us knows much at all. We fight when required.”

  The thought of the giant being somehow alive lingered between them, though, and they both glanced again at the impressive crack down his near side.

  “You don’t think he’s crumbling, do you?” she said flatly. “You have a different idea of what’s occurring here.” It sounded like an accusation.

  Pez looked at her and his dark eyes gleamed. He shrugged. “He could be emerging.”

  Zafira laughed, startled. “Well, for all the fear you’ve brought with you today, Pez, I’m pleased you haven’t lost your whimsical style. A giant emerging from stone?”

  “He was entrapped in stone. He was real once.”

  “We’re talking centuries and centuries ago. You think he lives?”

  Pez grinned and there was mischief in it. “I don’t know, I’m simply airing random thoughts.”

  “There’s nothing random about you, Pez. We should heed your words.” She looked again at Beloch. “Why now?”

  Pez became serious again. “Ana said something intriguing. She mentioned that this time, this battle, it would be different. I don’t know what she means by that—I don’t even know if she does, but she seemed determined that the struggle would be different.”

  “And you think the difference could be Beloch and Ezram?”

  “Zafira, my mind is wandering everywhere,” he admitted wearily. “Yesterday I was convinced it was something else, today I’m thinking it’s the stone creatures.”

  “The stone creatures? All of them? Crendel, Darso?”

  He nodded. “If the giants, why not the others?”

  The priestess shook her head, disbelieving. “Who did you imagine it was yesterday?”

  Pez hesitated. “I don’t know if I should share my thoughts, Zafira. You don’t share what you know.”

  He could see that the accusation hit home by the hurt expression that darkened her face. “No more secrets between us, Pez, I promise.”

  He regarded her for a long time, decided she meant it. “I thought it was Lazar.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I know he’s not random either. He is involved for a reason. Ellyana’s loyalty to him suggests that. She wanted him to live but she wanted no one to know the fact. She has been waiting for something…something to occur or some secret signal to be given.” He shook his head. “I hate all this guessing.”

  “Well, if it’s any consolation, although I can’t confirm if he’s the difference, I do know Lazar is involved.”

  Pez swung around and faced her expectantly, annoyed by her continuing secrets.

  She spread her hands, palms up. “Ellyana admits she doesn’t know what his part in this cycle is, but she did tell me that he is involved and will play a critical role. She said, as we were fighting for his life, that Lazar was a new player in the game of gods. That this time it was to be different.”

  “That’s how Ana feels but she didn’t pinpoint Lazar. How could she? She thinks he’s dead!”

  “I promise that’s as much as I know,” Zafira soothed. “I can’t tell you if he makes the difference. Ellyana was determined to save his life. Although I think there were moments there when she, too, felt we had lost him.”

  “Why the secrecy, though? Why so much pain for those who care for Lazar?”

  “Secrets can protect. I have to presume that she is deliberately keeping Ana and Lazar apart, deliberately keeping him away from the palace. Jumo’s pain cannot be helped. And now that you’ve discovered the Vizier for who he truly is, I can only say she was right in doing so. If all of Lyana’s warriors were instantly recognizable and in one spot, it would give Ana away immediately.”

  “Well, it won’t last, Zafira. As I said, Lazar’s returning to the city.”

  “Why? What does he hope to accomplish?”

  “Anything’s better than wasting away on Star Island. How long did you think you could keep that man trapped there?”

  She pursed her lips. “Not much longer. That’s why I wasn’t here when you came earlier.”

  Pez nodded, slowly understanding. “Ellyana?”

  “She needs to know his condition. Perhaps she suspected he was ready to make his move.”

  “And you went to meet her.”

  “No,” she said, sitting down heavily. “I go to a particular spot and tie a message to a homing pigeon. I don’t know where it goes, but this morning’s message was that I didn’t think Lazar could be contained for much longer.”

  Pez grimaced at the secrecy, at Ellyana’s manipulative ways. “He’ll be back in Percheron tonight.”

  “What is he going to
do?”

  “Present himself to Boaz, as far as I know. Lazar has nothing to hide. But blame will be accorded to you, when they realize you lied. That’s why I want you to go.”

  She began to shake her head but Pez persisted. “You are more use to Lyana alive, Zafira. The Zar will not spare you once he knows you lied to him—and that’s how Lazar will have to tell it. And let’s be truthful here, he had no hand in the decisions and terrible manipulations anyway.”

  Zafira hesitated, biting her lip.

  Pez pressed harder. “You can’t help us if you’re dead.”

  She nodded, agreeing. “Where shall I go?”

  “Anywhere but here. Go to Z’alotny—to the burial ground of the priestesses.”

  She looked at him ruefully. “Appropriate—at least when the Zar finds and executes me I’ll be in the right spot.”

  He ignored her comment. “It’s safe, private, no one goes there. Give me two days and then I shall either come to you or get word to you and we’ll work out what to do from there. But you have to leave here now.”

  She nodded. “I shall go.”

  “Make haste, Zafira. I don’t trust anyone at the palace.”

  “I shall be gone within the hour.”

  He reached around her tiny figure and hugged her. “Go sooner if you can.”

  MALIZ TWIRLED THE STEM of a goblet of pale wine between Tariq’s thumb and forefinger as he considered what he’d just heard. “You’re quite sure.”

  The man nodded.

  “And he didn’t stay very long, you say.”

  Now the man shook his head.

  “Did he bow in the temple to Lyana?”

  “No, Grand Vizier. I watched carefully. He did no such thing. He arrived doing acrobatics, and continued through the temple. There was no respect for the place he was in. He spoke briefly to the priestess—well, screamed to tell the truth—about wanting some fruit and she seemed familiar with him—she acted kindly toward him. He dragged her to the back of the temple and I could hear him still yelling about fruit and listing all of their names. Finally, she took him upstairs to give him some. I could hear him demanding a pomegranate. That’s when I left, for fear of being seen. I waited and he came out not long afterward clutching an orange. He kept smelling the orange—”

  “Yes, yes, I understand. He didn’t touch the sculpture of Lyana?” the Grand Vizier persisted, determined to connect Pez with the Goddess.

  “He paid her no heed whatsoever,” the man confirmed, bowing. “He was as annoying and silly as he usually is.”

  “Keep shadowing the dwarf whenever he leaves the palace. I will pay you well.” He tossed a small pouch at the man’s feet. It landed with a solid thump.

  “Thank you, Grand Vizier.”

  “I pay for your secrecy, too, Elaz. Don’t speak out of turn to anyone or I shall close your lips forever.”

  The man nodded. Maliz waved him away and considered what he had discovered. There was no proof. The dwarf behaved true to form. Perhaps the priestess simply took pity on the idiot, someone the dwarf, in his delusions, considered a friend. But why go to the temple? The coincidence of the temple being the sacred place of Lyana was irresistible to Maliz. He would have to learn more.

  He would begin with the priestess.

  13

  Ana had never looked more stunning. Even she was surprised by the solemn yet dazzling person staring back at her from the glass.

  “He will adore you,” Elza whispered, praying to Zarab that the girl would put behind her the episode with the Grand Master Eunuch that had left her trembling, bleeding, and puffy-eyed from weeping. When she had tried to comfort the young woman, Ana had exclaimed that she was crying not from grief, but from anger.

  “I don’t care,” Ana replied stiffly, her rouged lips making her scowl seem alluring rather than how she intended it to be.

  “Miss Ana, please. Let this go well for you. To be First Chosen is one of the highest prizes. Look how the harem honors you with its finest jewels. I hear the Valide herself chose and bought them for you. The Grand Master Eunuch put them around your neck himself to honor you.”

  Ana’s voice was waspish when it came. “For your sake alone, Elza, I am not ripping these jewels from my neck and wrists and ankles.”

  The slave gasped. “They are worth more than ten of me, child.”

  “And I hate them. I don’t want them.”

  “What do you want, Miss Ana?”

  “Freedom. Leave me, Elza.”

  “I cannot. I have promised to escort you into the divan suite. Grand Master Salmeo says the other girls must see you in all your finery before you are taken to the Zar’s chambers.”

  “So he can make the other girls jealous, so they will hate me?”

  Elza shrugged, embarrassed. “I must do as I’m told, Miss Ana.”

  “Let us go now, then, for I cannot stand the sight of myself a moment longer. I am like the jewels—pretty but dead.”

  Elza shook her head, worried, but gestured for Ana to follow her.

  THE GRAND VIZIER ARRIVED at the Sea Temple as the sun was dipping low behind the statue of Ezram. The giant looked to be framed by a halo of fire as the sky had blistered to a burning orange as if in final salutation to the day. Its farewell cast a bright glow onto the waters, making the bay appear like a cauldron of molten gold, but the Vizier did not appreciate Percheron’s theater of natural beauty. Maliz was entirely distracted, grimacing at being so close to the worshipping place of Lyana. His revulsion only intensified when he stepped into the temple’s cool shadows and saw the sculpture of the woman he reviled.

  Lyana looked back at him, her expression as hard and unyielding as the stone from which she was formed. Maliz felt his bile rise at being in her presence. As he approached Lyana he could no longer control his repulsion and he spat at her. His spittle slid down her chin to land on her left breast, and whether it was a trick of the eye or simply the way the slit of dying golden sunlight made a last effort to light her, the liquid seemed to stain the pale stone.

  Maliz sneered. “I will destroy you again and again, Lyana,” he said softly, cruelly. “The faithful will never worship a woman.”

  He was disturbed by the arrival of a tiny person, an old priestess who had descended the stairs with a small sack. At first she covered her surprise at his presence with a quick smile—the sort she kept for someone come to pay quiet homage, he guessed, but Maliz noticed how the smile died fast on her wrinkled face. She tried to disguise her alarm but he saw it clearly.

  “Grand Vizier Tariq?” she asked, overbrightly, he thought. “What a surprise. How can I help you?”

  “Perhaps you can,” he replied smoothly. “I am looking for Pez.”

  She frowned. “The Zar’s buffoon?”

  “That’s the only Pez I know of in Percheron,” Maliz said drily.

  The priestess shook her head. “Pez is not here, Grand Vizier. I’m sorry your journey has been wasted.”

  “He has been, though, hasn’t he, Priestess?”

  To her credit, Zafira didn’t so much as blink at his trap. “Earlier today, yes. Silly fellow was looking for fruit, of all things. He can be quite contrary—as I’m sure you must know—but I feel sorry for him.” He noticed how she wrung the corners of the sack ends in her hands. Another clue. The priestess was nervous.

  “I’m sorry, you know me but I don’t have your name?”

  “I am Zafira.” She put the sack down and pushed her hands into the pockets of her aquamarine robes to appear relaxed. He thought it was more likely an attempt to steady them.

  He pressed on, keeping his voice friendly. “So Pez visits regularly, Zafira?”

  “I wouldn’t say regularly,” she replied, smiling tensely. “He finds kindness here, Grand Vizier. He calls whenever his odd mood swings bring him; I never have any warning before he arrives. If I can help him to calm, I usually do. Sometimes all the troubled soul needs is some time.”

  “Does he communicate with you?”


  She gave an expression of disdain. “As well as he communicates with anyone. He speaks gibberish most of the time.” Now she looked quizzical. “I’m sure I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, Grand Vizier, as you are around him in the palace and see him much more than I.”

  “I have very little to do with him.”

  “I find myself in the same position. Pez is welcome here, as anyone is welcome. No one is turned away. But his trips are rare, and although he did stop by today in a fractious mood that was soothed with an orange, he’s not here at present. Now, if you’ve finished with your questions, I’m actually in a hurry.” She bent to pick up the sack again.

  “Are you going somewhere, Zafira?” As Maliz stepped forward, the priestess shrank back. It was his best clue yet. She had no reason to be fearful of him and yet it was obvious she was entirely disturbed by his presence. “Do not be scared of me.”

  “I’m not,” she said too quickly.

  “Your voice shakes. Is something wrong?” He took another step toward her.

  She retreated again and now he was sure. “No. You just surprised me and I have to be somewhere.”

  “Where?”

  The priestess made a poor attempt at indigntion. “Some-where private, sir.”

  “Away from here.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why the hurry?”

  “I’m late.”

  “Can I escort you there?”

  “No, Grand Vizier. I’m capable of finding my own way. Frankly, I’m surprised that you can be bothered with one of Lyana’s servants.”

  Her words gave Maliz the opening he needed.

  “What makes you think I would make such a distinction?” He could see the fear taking hold of her now, see it in her startled eyes. There was only one reason his question would have caused such fear. She must know that inside Tariq’s body walked a demon.

  He laughed aloud, deep and menacing. He had found one of Lyana’s disciples. It was a start.