Alisiyad

by Sarah R. Suleski

  “She’s not a lump, she’s a little girl, and her name is—” Russ broke off abruptly, realizing that he didn’t know her name, and that Ricalli was looking very smug at the way he had swallowed the bait.

  “Well? Her name is . . . ?”

  “I doubt you care,” Russ said, sullenly, frustrated with his loss of composure.

  “What is your name, girl?” Ricalli asked in a commanding voice.

  “Fortya,” the girl squeaked, unable to summon a shred of defiance.

  “Fortya, what a pretty name,” Ricalli cooed, in a very unsettling manner. Then he grew abruptly business like, and turned away, putting his back to both of them. He spoke to his “children,” who hung on his every word like hopeful puppies.

  “Since I am here you no longer need the girl’s blood, and as the Key seems to find her treatment so very distressful, you’ll leave her alone unless you want him to run around biting you all like a mad dog. You will not touch the Key, until I say you may. Before then, you leave him to me.

  “Now, tell me, where is this self proclaimed goddess, the one calling herself Alisiya? Ullari? I don’t see her.”

  Ullari responded in a helpless tone, and Ricalli scoffed, “Hiding? Why would ‘Alisiya’ hide from me, her nephew twice over? She was never fond of me, I must admit, but she was never afraid of me. Not in the least.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.”

  Alisiya’s voice came from behind, and Russ turned. She stood by the steps, face composed and expressionless. Even her changeable eyes were calm.

  Ricalli also turned toward her, and laughed explosively. It made Russ jump despite himself.

  “Alisiya, you call yourself,” he said. “You are not a daughter of the sun god, you are no more than a human woman. Anyone with half a brain can tell that at a glance.”

  Alisiya tilted her chin up, and Ricalli’s followers looked deeply ashamed of themselves.

  He went on. “She speaks a human tongue, did not that alert you? Or did you swallow some preposterous lie about it?”

  Ullari answered, and Ricalli simply snorted. “Who are you?” he barked at Alisiya. “What is your real name?”

  She regarded him silently for a long moment, then said, “Alisiya. As to who my true father is, that is none of your business.”

  Chapter 29 ~ The Ritual of Osvira

  “Is that so?” Ricalli raised his eyebrows. He surveyed Alisiya with a look of amusement, then crossed his arms over his expansive chest and said, “Well, you are quite possibly the most insolent pair of prisoners I have ever met. This is different. Very different.” He tilted his head toward the assembly of kneeling Ricallyn, with a sneer of contempt.

  Alisiya said nothing. Ricalli’s smirk did not disappear, though, and he turned, striding nonchalantly to the altar, where he sat down and leaned against the wooden pole as if it were a throne back. He rested one foot on the altar, but there was a glint in his eyes that betrayed his languid pose.

  “Bring the impostor to me,” he ordered, and two Ricallyn guards leapt to their feet. Alisiya gave them each a withering glare, but they hardly noticed, taking her by the arms and leading her forward.

  Russ thought about getting away. Now that Ricalli and his followers were preoccupied with Alisiya, perhaps if he gradually edged his way toward the stairs, he could get down. It seemed that more Ricallyn were making their way onto the roof, now that their god had arrived . . . .

  “Watch the Key,” Ricalli said, seemingly reading his mind. He waved a hand toward the stairs, and more of the Ricallyn swordsmen jumped up from their knees and went to guard the only escape route that Russ could see, besides a plummet off the edge of the roof.

  Alisiya’s escorts shoved her to her knees when they came before Ricalli. Russ could hardly believe she’d let them manhandle her like that, but then, what could she do? All her magic seemed to be left behind in the homeworld she’d been so desperate to escape.

  Ricalli appeared to be enjoying the cold look Alisiya leveled at him. “So,” he said, “you have claimed to be a goddess, you will need to be punished. I cannot ignore this sort of blasphemy. But it is entirely up to me to determine what sentence I will give you.”

  “I suppose you would like me to beg for leniency,” Alisiya replied, as if the whole matter bored her.

  “It wouldn’t become you,” Ricalli laughed, the predatory glint growing in his eyes. He reached out and fingered Alisiya’s hair. She turned her head away; he took her by the chin and forced her to look at him. “You are a bargainer, not a pleader. I’m speaking of usefulness,” he repeated the words he’d spoken to Russ. “I could sentence you to death, unless there is a reason I shouldn’t.”

  Russ shifted uneasily. Fortya was growing heavy in his arms, even though she was a skinny little bag of bones, and despite himself he had to admit Ricalli was right, he couldn’t do much with her hanging around his neck. And it was still dark, just barely light enough for him to see what was going on around him.

  “What use would you have for me?” Alisiya asked, still with the bored tone.

  “What do you have to offer?” He let go of her chin and moved his hand to her neck; it made her look much smaller, as if he could wrap his entire hand around her neck, and squeeze her life out if the fancy struck him.

  Alisiya met his eyes, unflinching. “What do you want from me?”

  Ricalli laughed, throwing his head back as let go of her neck. “No,” he said, “the offer is yours to make.” He leaned an elbow on his knee and drew closer to her again. “Name your sentence. Tell me what you will do for me, and I will make that your punishment. Are we agreed?”

  Alisiya showed interest, then. She brushed her hair back from her face and studied him for a moment, then said, “Should I believe you? You will let me name my punishment?”

  He nodded.

  “Even if I choose something that is ‘too easy’?”

  “I can’t imagine you would choose something harsh for yourself. I make the offer knowing you won’t.”

  A small, catlike smile spread over Alisiya’s face, and she said, “Very well. I will let you use my body.”

  Ricalli answered only with a crooked eyebrow. Alisiya clarified, in a prim voice, “It is a woman’s body. You may use it as a man uses a woman.”

  “Oh gimme a break,” Russ muttered under his breath.

  “I am a god, what makes you think I am interested?” Ricalli asked, though Russ thought he didn’t do a very good job of hiding that it was exactly what he’d been waiting for.

  Alisiya seemed very pleased with herself, and answered, “I know Adayzjian history; the gods and goddesses did not hesitate to take human mates. That is, except for your parents.” She couldn’t resist adding the jab, “And, as the story goes, their inbreeding was not looked upon kindly by the others of their kind. Also their children turned out very strange.”

  Russ didn’t think it was very smart to insult Ricalli, considering the kind of bargain she was trying to draw, but the god didn’t seem bothered by it. He ignored the last part of her reply, and said, “You are right, but that was a long time ago. Maybe I’ve lost interest, in my old age.”

  “You promised you would let me chose my ‘punishment,’ that is what I chose,” Alisiya said petulantly. “Are you going to keep your promise or not?”

  “Oh, most certainly. A god never reneges on a promise.” Ricalli stood, in one fluid motion, and stepped away from the altar. “I pronounce sentence on this impostor,” he said to the Ricallyn. “She will undergo the Ritual of Osvira, to cleanse her of her blasphemy.”

  Alisiya turned and glanced at Russ smugly. Apparently she thought she had worked her way out of the situation. Russ wasn’t so sure.

  “Tie her to the altar,” Ricalli ordered, and Alisiya’s head snapped back around to look at him.

  “Here?” she said, composure dropping, “In front of all these people?”

  Ricalli laughed. Russ thought he laughed too much.

  “It would not be the Ri
tual of Osvira without them,” Ricalli said, as two guards forced Alisiya onto the altar and drew her arms behind her head. “Knowing your Adayzjian history so well, as you do, you are no doubt aware that my sister, Osvira, was the goddess of fey passion. Some have added ‘love’ to that description, but I don’t think Osvira knew the first thing about love or ever cared to learn it.”

  “What are you saying?” Alisiya jerked uncomfortably as they tied the rope tightly around her wrists. “You promised—”

  “This is what you chose, as your punishment,” Ricalli smiled, crossing his arms again as he looked down on his prey. “You will be taken, in turn, by each of my high priests, until you are cleansed of your insolence.”

  “That is not what I meant by my offer and you know it, you bastard!” Alisiya burst indignantly, yanking harder now at the ropes. But all she managed was to thrash pathetically.

  Ricalli just smiled at her helpless anger. “Maybe it’s not what you meant, but it is exactly what you offered.”

  “Hey, now wait a minute,” Russ interrupted, drawing a raised eyebrow from Ricalli. “You can’t do that.”

  “Oh? And why not?”

  Russ glanced at Alisiya. Why was he speaking up for her? She’d stood by while he was humiliated and nearly murdered, he shouldn’t be sticking out his neck and crossing Ricalli for her. But he couldn’t stop himself. “Because. Um. . . . Because her father is a very powerful man. When he finds out he’ll kill all of you.”

  Alisiya hissed at him. For a moment Russ stared at her in confusion — she was clearly terrified, but still managed to send a look filled with daggers his way.

  “Really,” Ricalli said, with amusement. “And who is this powerful father?”

  “Don’t tell him.”

  “He’s the King of Alisiya,” Russ ignored her order.

  “The King of Alisiya?” Ricalli snorted. “What are you talking about?”

  “He’s an idiot,” Alisiya snapped.

  “I am not an idiot,” Russ snapped back. “Go ahead and get yourself out of this mess, then.” He lowered Fortya to the ground, and she let him, but still clutched one hand and stood halfway behind him, staring at Ricalli with saucer eyes.

  “Tell me,” Ricalli said darkly. “Who is her father?”

  “I told you, her father is the King of Alisiya. His name is Edward Leeton. And if you’re not afraid of him you should be afraid of his dogs; he has packs of big, vicious dog that will tear you to pieces if you hurt Alisiya.” Russ made a clawing motion with his free hand, to illustrate.

  “Leeton? Not the Leeton? Ha! No wondered she didn’t want you to tell me.” Ricalli smiled viciously. “The Ricallyn were robbed of his blood a hundred years ago, and my followers never forget a lost Key.”

  “I am not a Key, I did not inherit that power from my father,” Alisiya said quickly. “Why else would I need this stupid oaf to get here?”

  “Oh yeah, I’m the stupid one.” Russ shook his head.

  Ricalli shrugged his powerful shoulders and said, “Key or no Key, the Ritual of Osvira continues.”

  He nodded to his followers, and they all stood as one. The women began to form a wide circle around the altar, facing outward with their backs to the victim. Russ could still see between them, as they did not stand side by side, but joined hands with arms outstretched. The men gathered ominously around Alisiya, and did not seem the least bit afraid of her flashing eyes and the string of curses she shot at them.

  “Listen,” Russ said to Ricalli, who was on the outside of the circle with him, “she’s not my favorite person in the world, but I’m not gonna just stand by and watch you sadistic assholes rape her.”

  “You have a point. It is highly unorthodox for an outsider to observe one of our sacred rituals.” Ricalli nodded. “Come with me.”

  He seized Russ by the arm in a vice-like grip, and started to drag him across the roof. Russ tried to jerk away, but his struggle was in vain — he couldn’t get at his useless knife because Ricalli had grabbed his free arm, and Fortya, terrified, wrapped both skinny arms around him when he tried to let her go.

  “Are you trying for this?” Ricalli reached over and plucked the knife from his belt, then tossed it carelessly over the edge of the roof.

  “Get your fucking hands offa me!” But Russ’s curses were no more effective than Alisiya’s. The god dragged him and the little girl effortlessly past the circle of Ricallyn, from which ripping sounds could be heard as they relieved Alisiya of her clothing.

  Ricalli took Russ and Fortya out where the roof jutted like a ship’s prow over the courtyard below. It narrowed to no more than a couple feet across at the end, and Russ swayed, feeling a nauseating moment of vertigo as he looked down.

  Ricalli suddenly let go of Russ’s arm, and said, “Now you will not have to watch anything.”

  Russ knew it was a mistake to look into Ricalli’s eyes. But he couldn’t stop himself. He looked into the endless black pits, and suddenly a shadow fell over his vision. His heart thudded and he reached out instinctively for something to brace himself with, but there was nothing. He was blind and stuck on a narrow ledge of stone dizzyingly high above the hard ground.

  “Don’t let him fall,” Ricalli said to Fortya, “unless you want to follow the impostor in the Ritual of Osvira. The Key is valuable to me, you are not, so make yourself useful.” He laughed as he walked away.

  That laugh was really, really starting to piss Russ off.

  Chapter 29 ~ The Ritual of Osvira, part 2

  “Don’t listen to him,” Russ gritted his teeth together as Fortya slipped one small, trembling hand into his. “I won’t let them do anything to you.” He realized how absurd that sounded; what good could he do, blind as a bat? And even though he couldn’t see, he could hear what was happening to Alisiya. If he couldn’t stop that, how could he stop them from doing whatever they wanted to the little girl, and to him?

  You could. You’re just not.

  “I need to sit down,” he muttered, and bent down unsteadily. Fortya seemed to understand what he wanted, even if she couldn’t understand his words, and she helped him lower himself to the thin space of solid roof beneath them. His conscience pricked him again, You could undo the rope from around her wrists, at least. You could crawl back to the roof if you wanted to. But you won’t.

  “Fortya,” he said the little girl’s name, trying to avert her attention from whatever she could see, “um, I haven’t told you my name, have I? I’m Russ.” He paused. Alisiya was screaming curses that could probably be heard all over the city, but there was pain and fear in her screams for all her anger.

  “Russ,” he pointed to his chest.

  “Russ,” Fortya replied cooperatively. Then she said something in Adayzjian that could mean anything, anything at all, from “I’m scared” to “Don’t worry, this happens all the time around here.” Or maybe, “Do something, you useless sod.”

  If it was Liseli over there, you’d find a way to stop them.

  “Do you . . . do you know any, um, songs? Do you like to sing?” he asked. “Fortya?” She was silent, and he reached out blindly to put a hand on her shoulder. He could tell by the way she was turned that she was looking over her shoulder at the roof. “Fortya, don’t look at them. Look at me,” he tugged at her shoulder. He felt her turn, and he shook his head, putting one hand over his eyes. “Don’t look. You don’t wanna see that kind of thing.”

  Fortya was a silent, but he could sense that she was still turned toward him. He didn’t realize what she was doing for a moment, but then she poked him between the eyes, and he flinched away. “Yes, yes, I’m blind, I can’t see a fucking thing,” he said irritably, then felt guilty about swearing in front of a little kid. What the hell, she can’t understand a thing you say, except maybe her name.

  Ricalli would give him his sight back eventually. He kept telling himself that, it helped stop him from panicking and hyperventilating. Fortya started to sing then, and he sat in shock, wondering if somehow she r
eally did know what he had asked her.

  She sang in a high pitched, reedy young voice, what sounded like a simply lilting nursery rhyme. Her voice seemed distant and unflappable, as if she had blocked everything else out completely. She still held his hand, and with her other hand she patted him gently on the arm. He wondered if this was something her sister had done for her, sing her a song and hold her hand when darkness was all around them.

  He couldn’t feel too badly for Alisiya. He had to admit it to himself. He was horrified at the brutality of the Ricallyn, at their sadistic rituals and customs. He was disgusted that they’d do what they were doing to any woman or girl. But he sat still, stranded on the jutting roof, and listened to Fortya’s singing, and reminded himself that Alisiya had tried to kill him more than once, had killed Eliasha and Currun and countless others, and threatened to kill Liseli — all just to get here, to this world, this dark stinking world where Ricalli was god and king.

  He’d warned her. Her father had warned her. But she hadn’t listened, and now she was paying. There were too many of them, and Ricalli was too powerful. Russ could make a few token efforts to spare her, but what good would it do, after all?

  In a way he was almost glad Ricalli had blinded him out here. All you need is an excuse to do nothing, is that it? Yeah that’s it. Fuck off if you don’t like it. There’s Fortya to think about. What’ll happen to her if I go getting myself killed for Alisiya? She’s done nothing to no one.

  Things had quieted down. Alisiya was no longer screaming; in fact it was almost dead silent now except for Fortya, singing softly in her childish voice. He squeezed her hand, to tell her how good and brave she was being. He wanted to puke.

  Eventually, the shadow passed from his eyes, like it had been a dark cloud lodged in his brain that was dissipating in the breeze. He looked around; it was still nightlike, but he could see with the clarity of the Ricallyn again. Fortya had gone silent, and as they both looked to the roof, they saw that the circle of women had unchained, and the Ricallyn were mingling again. How women, of all people, could just stand there and let one of their own be abused like that was beyond Russ, but the Ricallyn women didn’t look the least bit disgusted by what their male counterparts had done.