by Matthew Ward
The grip on my neck tightened some more. I felt vertebrae creak "Alright, I admit I'm not a guard! I came here looking for you!"
The pressure eased. Not much, but enough so I wasn't in danger of having my head squeezed off. [[For me? I do not know you.]]
"I came looking for all of you. I need your help."
[[And what succour would we give a fallen?]] This was a new voice, somewhere behind me and to my left. I couldn't see the speaker, pinned as I was. [[The stench of Otherworld lies upon you. Do you deny you are a creature of the Raven?]]
The question was rhetorical, but I could hardly let it pass. "I am a fallen, it's true," I said, with only the slightest grimace. I wasn't used to the idea, and hoped I never would be. "But I'm not Malgyne's creature."
[[Lies,]] the second sentinel said flatly. [[The Lord of Otherworld holds sway over all fallen. Kill it.]]
The pressure on my neck increased.
"Malgyne doesn't rule Otherworld any longer!" There was no response. My vertebrae grated together. "Let me talk to Zorya!"
The pressure peaked, but it didn't relax.
[[Why have you stopped, sister?]] asked the second sentinel.
[[Should we not tell Zorya he wishes to speak with her?]]
[[And what purpose would that serve?]] the other countered. [[He is a fallen. He is not to be trusted. It is to guard against dangers of this kind that we keep watch.]]
"What danger can I possibly pose?" I asked through teeth gritted against the pain. "What can I possibly do to harm you?"
[[He makes a good point,]] said my captor.
[[We do not need such proof. He is a fallen.]]
The latecomer was certainly determined to see me disposed of. Under other circumstances, I'd have forgiven a little paranoia, but had less sympathy with my spine in danger of being ground to powder.
[[Nevertheless sister, if we destroy him now, the opportunity of questioning him will be lost. He was looking for us. I would know why, and how he knew where to look.]]
I was warming to my captor – the pain of her grip notwithstanding – far more than to her fellow. Unfortunately, no sooner had I come to that conclusion than she gave me cause to re-examine it.
[[We can always destroy him after, should he prove false.]]
[[Why not destroy him now? Falseness is in his nature. He is a dead thing that walks as if he was not.]]
I didn't like where this was headed. "And what happens if Zorya discovers I came to speak with her, and that you killed me out of hand?"
[[Another good point,]] said my captor. [[We should take him to Zorya.]]
[[She does not lead us, not anymore.]] The other sentinel sounded curiously angry. [[We are free to do as we wish.]]
[[As you say. And my wish is that she be given the opportunity to interrogate this creature.]]
There was silence for a moment, but the other sentinel was trapped by her own logic, and she knew it. [[Very well. We will bring him to her.]]
*******
Little concession was made to my comfort as the sentinels marched me through the vaults. The grip on my neck was, thankfully, released, but stone fingers remained locked around my arm. My captor set a swift pace across the uneven floor, and I found myself being dragged and carried as often as I managed to walk.
We left the cavern and headed deeper into the vaults, into a series of tunnels I hadn't seen before. Though dust hung heavy and spider webs choked the air, the walls themselves were in good repair, and often faced by the same cut of stone as the passageways in which Solomon had made his lair. Just how much of this labyrinth existed under Tressia? Did the council even know its extent?
At last, the sentinels halted before a blank stone wall. Whilst my captor held me fast, the other pushed hard, palms outward, against the stones. With this apparently simple effort – I'd no illusions about my inability to replicate that feat – the middle section of the wall fell back, revealing a tunnel. A short and steep flight of stairs later, we came to what I could only describe as a submerged temple.
The chamber was large and round, with tiered seats – or steps – of dressed stonework beginning far above my head and disappeared into the water below. The pool was crystal clear, and the stonework continued below its surface for dozens of flights. It was also tidal through some means, for the stones far above my head were stained and dark. The roof of the cavern hung with stalactites. Here and there, chinks of light showed through from holes set in the ceiling.
Eight fluted columns lined the walls. There had once been a ninth, and its ruins now lay in the pool below. They were fashioned from an unfamiliar white stone, one shot through with veins of a deep and iridescent blue. Across the pool from me stood a vast statue crafted from the same material. From its glorious mane of seaweed hair to the tip of its serpent tail, the idol was a perfect copy of the woodcut from Solomon's book, or would have been had the statue's left hand, and the trident it should have held, not been missing. This absence did rather spoil the effect, but it didn't stop me from realising where I was. This was a temple to Endala, the Lady of the Deeps – it had to be.
What a peculiar place to find a group of fugitive serathi. Nonetheless, the sentinels were there, standing in three silent ranks around the uppermost levels of the cavern. Seven hundred pairs of eyes stared disinterestedly at me – if my memory served me well, this was all of them, or nearly so. Each sentinel had a shield slung upon her back, and a sword buckled at her side; beneath her white surcoat, she was clad in breastplate and chainmail. This army could crush anything that mortals mustered. I only hoped it would prove similarly effective against the serathi – if they'd even agree to fight at all.
Was it, after all, such an odd place to find the fugitive sentinels? The antagonisms between the Great Powers seemed rooted in natural oppositions. Jack was the embodiment of life, and Malgyne of death; the one the opposite of the other. The Radiant was the sun, whilst Ashana was the moon – two sisters locked in a godly battle for control of the heavens. Likewise, the Radiant ruled the skies, and Endala the darkness of the oceans, so perhaps the sentinels had chosen to seek sanctuary with the Lady of the Deeps, in the hope that their salvation lay in that old enmity.
Or perhaps I was overthinking things, and the sentinels had simply taken refuge in a hidden ruin almost everyone had forgotten. I hoped the latter was the case. There were entirely too many of the Great Powers – or the servants thereof – entangled in my life. I'd be content to avoid involving the others.
I was marched round the perimeter of the pool, past the statue, and through an archway. I emerged into a much smaller room, at the centre of which stood a stone font, its rim chased with intricate silver filigree. A rough opening high in the far wall cast a shaft of white light onto the font. All else was in shadow: the two stone sarcophagi on the flanks of the room, their carvings timeworn and faded; the desiccated timber shelves holding only cobwebs and broken candles; and the tall figure who stood between the font and the window, her back to me. She, unlike the other sentinels, wore a long pleated skirt and a blue jacket. I'd found Zorya at last.
[[We discovered this creature in the halls,]] my captor announced.
[[It is a fallen,]] the other sentinel put in, still sounding aggrieved.
Zorya spoke without turning. [[And you brought it here?]]
[[He asked for you by name,]] my captor explained. [[If I have done ill, then I beg your forgiveness.]]
Zorya faced me, and said nothing. I'd no idea what passed through her mind. In that silence, my certainty crumbled. Would she see beyond my dead flesh, or would she find my new form be so abhorrent that she would countenance nothing save its destruction?
[[You took the correct course, Selendri,]] she said at last. [[Leave us.]]
[[Of course.]]
My captor released her grip, and she and her companion left the room. Zorya said nothing, and I dared not speak lest it provoke a reaction not to my liking.
Only when the departing footsteps had faded completely
did Zorya move through the circle of light. She raised a hand to touch my cheek. [[Master Edric, what has happened to you?]]
"Almost everything," I said wearily. "I've been assaulted, poisoned, locked up, poisoned again and, of course, murdered..." I tried to pull Zorya's fingers away. Her hand wouldn't move. "...by your sister, Azyra."
Zorya drew back and turned away. [[So it is true. This is my fault.]]
I shook my head. "You didn't do this."
[[I should have stayed. I should have warned you.]]
"You should." My temper rose as I recalled all the things Zorya could have told me. Seeing her – hearing her admit she could have saved me from this fate – redoubled the pain of the last few weeks. I tried to tamp my anger down, but it wouldn't subside, not completely.
[[You do not understand,]] Zorya said quietly. Her voice was insistent, pleading. [[I did not lie. When we first met, I did not remember who I was, or what I had been. I had only glimpses of memories that I took for dreams. Even when you returned from Skyhaven, I did not fully understand. I was afraid, though I could not have told you why I felt so, not in any way that would have made sense. I joined my sisters in the dark, hoping Azyra would not think to look for us here.]] She faced me. [[But still, the fault is mine.]]
Even with her stone face frozen in that aloof expression, Zorya's heartbreak was obvious. The last of my anger drained away. "It's worse even than that," I said softly. "What do you remember from before?"
[[I remember the pain as the machine stole my body. I remember my beloved sister laughing.]]
"Do you remember what happened to the Radiant?"
[[They killed her. She surrendered so we would be spared. Then our sisters – those who had accused us of having fallen from grace – tore her apart.]] Her voice grew low and dangerous, the sing-song slipping into a minor key. [[Even before the pieces of her body had come to rest, Azyra spoke of how she would return.]] Zorya looked sharply up at me. [[Where is Arianwyn?]]
"I think you know."
[[No!]] It was not a rejection of my statement, but of its implication.
"Azyra's using her to restore the Radiant."
As quickly as I could, I took Zorya through all that had happened since we'd last met.
[[I should have seen,]] Zorya said wretchedly. [[I should have known. How could I have not? It was not chance that Arianwyn's father found us – the Radiant guided him to our chamber. The Radiant wants to be reborn, but she would not wish it to happen this way.]]
"How can you be so sure?"
[[She died to save her daughters,]] Zorya said angrily. [[She would not choose to live again at another's expense.]]
"Perhaps she has no choice. In any case, I mean to prevent it if I can, and if such a thing is any longer even possible. Will you help me?"
[[You ask me to choose between the life of my mother and the life of my daughter.]]
I hesitated, but as ever Zorya had put things succinctly. "I do. Will you help me?"
[[Yes.]] She spoke quietly at first, but her words grew louder and firmer. [[Yes. How can I refuse? You cannot keep even yourself from harm. I cannot leave Arianwyn's fate in your clumsy hands.]]
Her head tilted, her eyes bored into mine, and I found myself smiling. With that waspish declaration, I knew that the self-pitying creature had gone. 'My' Zorya was back, and it filled me with joy.
"If we're to have any chance at all, we'll need the other sentinels."
[[When I was a serathiel, they followed me without question. Those days are gone. I can make no promises, save one. I, at least, will fight.]]
With a rustle of skirts she swept past me and out of the room.
*******
I couldn't explain why, but I'd the impression that the other sentinels were waiting for us. Selendri had not returned to the vaults, and nor had her companion. She, I at last recognised as Svara. The last time Zorya had begged the sentinels for aid, it had been Svara who had refused.
Zorya launched into a recitation of everything I'd told her. She spoke firmly, her musical voice somehow carrying a fervour and determination that easily matched the finest orators I'd ever known. It would have been impossible to guess at the self-recrimination that had so wracked her only a few minutes before.
But the sentinels plainly weren't going for it.
[[We opposed Azyra before. It brought us to ruin,]] Svara objected. [[Even at the height of our power, with our mother at our side, we could not triumph. We are not as other drudges. Our nature prevents the process from instilling obedience to the serathiel, but still we are shadows of our former selves. How could we win such a battle?]]
"You should be asking yourselves what else you can lose if you don't fight." My words echoed around the chamber. "You all know Azyra better than I. Does even one amongst you truly believe she'll stop at destroying my people and restoring the Radiant?"
Speaking before the Tressian council had been bad enough. This was far worse. At least the councillors' expressions and poise had betrayed some inkling of their thoughts. Here, hundreds of blank faces stared down at me. I felt how the Tressians must when abasing themselves at the Cathedral, praying for Sidara or the Angel of the Cathedral to carry away their problems.... The Angel of the Cathedral?
My trail of thought shuddered to a halt as I realised the answer to a minor mystery. The Angel of the Cathedral. Was it that simple? Now wasn't the time to dwell upon it, so I tore attention back to the matter at hand.
Svara spoke again. [[You do not understand what you ask.]]
"I understand very well," I said. "I'm asking you to prevent a great evil. Azyra's not restoring the Radiant to wipe away the sins of the past. She's doing it to fulfil prophecy. She's ruled Skyhaven for how long now? Centuries? Millennia? You know her better than I. Can you see her abdicating in favour of the Radiant? Do you seriously believe Azyra wants to atone?"
I addressed the assembled sentinels now, rather than Svara alone. I was starting to suspect that nothing I could have said would ever win her over, but surely if Zorya couldn't speak for the host, then nor could Svara.
[[She intends to win the Reckoning, that much is clear,]] Svara said.
"No matter how many lives it costs?"
[[Can you put a price on paradise? For that is what Azyra will create.]]
"Who is that paradise for? Who will survive to enjoy it?"
Zorya waved me into silence. [[The wrong questions. The proper question is whether Azyra should be allowed to create this paradise.]] She looked around the chamber, addressing the assembled sentinels. [[You are afraid. You have lost so much, and fear to lose what little remains. But that is not the choice before us.]]
[[Of course it is,]] Svara objected. [[Whilst we still live, even in these crude forms, we honour the works of the Radiant.]]
Zorya ignored the interruption. [[When she cast us out, Azyra accused us of having fallen from grace. She was wrong, but if we take no action, we lend her words a truth they never had. She is our sister. But she intends to wreak a great evil. If we do not act to prevent it, we are as guilty as those who follow her. How does this honour the Radiant?]]
[[Your motivation, at least, is clear,]] Svara said. [[You wish to save a daughter not your own. Whilst we might sympathise with that yearning, we do not share it.]]
I'd hoped another might challenge Svara, but the sentinel host remained silent, which left the burden to me. "And how do you honour the Radiant's memory by lurking in the darkness?"
Svara shook her head. [[You do not understand. You are mortal.]]
"Don't I?" I countered, ignoring the obvious insult. "In recent months I've had the privilege – if you want to call it that – of encountering Great Powers, and their servants. None of you seem so very different from us. You're capable of incredible deeds, but you're as driven by love, pride and fear as any 'mere' mortal. You're just as flawed, and just as fallible."
[[You dare speak thus?]] Svara demanded. [[You dare...]]
I cut her off, anger blossoming in my wo
rds. "Your kin are about to slaughter mine, for no better reason than because they worship a goddess other than the Radiant! Your kin intend to kill my beloved! There is nothing I won't dare." I took a deep breath and strove to calm myself. "I cannot and will not stand by whilst this unfolds. I am going to Skyhaven, and I will do all I can to prevent it."
Selendri stirred. [[What can you hope to achieve alone?]]
I hadn't the faintest idea. "I hope not to go alone. If I do, I'll surely fail. I've no illusions. But failure is preferable to making no attempt."
[[He will not go alone,]] Zorya said quietly. [[I have no desire to bear the guilt of our sisters' actions throughout the seasons of the world. I will go to Skyhaven and, one way or another, I shall not return here.]]
[[You would abandon us?]] Svara demanded.
[[I would stop hiding in the darkness,]] Zorya replied. [[Edric is correct. We do not honour the Radiant's memory by survival, but by deed. The Radiant created us to raise mortals up, to offer them something better than the horrors offered by others. We have failed.]]
[[Zorya speaks truly,]] Selendri said. At last, it seemed we had an ally. [[The Radiant would not want us to let this happen – not to her, not to the Hadari, and not to Arianwyn Trelan. It is our duty to act, or else we have no right to invoke her name in anything that we do.]]
[[I do not agree,]] Svara objected.
[[I know, sister. This you have made plain. For myself, I will follow Zorya wherever she will lead me. You say her compassion for Arianwyn Trelan is a weakness. I do not concur. Even when Zorya knew not what she was, that compassion compelled her to act when the rest of us hid.]]
[[She eased the suffering of one lonely mortal child,]] said Svara. [[But still, you may have a point. We will discuss the matter further.]]
It was an unexpected and gracious concession, but not enough. "This is taking too long," I told Zorya quietly.
[[Actually, it proceeds far better than I expected,]] she replied softly. [[It is no small thing that we ask.]]
Three other sentinels joined the debate, two on Selendri's side, one on Svara's. Hopefully the numbers signified that we were starting to convince them, but it was impossible to be sure. Indeed, without the usual cues of lip movement or varied tone, sometimes it was difficult enough to tell which of them was speaking.