by Matthew Ward
"I wouldn't want to do that again," Jamar observed wearily, wiping a streak of blood from his forehead.
His words had clearly tempted fate. No sooner had they left his mouth than the doors to the aerie crashed open, and graces stormed in. Three swept through the doors. Six burst in through the ruined windows. This second wave advanced more warily than the first; checked perhaps, by their sisters' bodies.
Wearily, Jamar and I raised our swords. We stood back to back, sheltering the spent Elspeth between us. Jaspyr and Fredrik tensed, ready to pounce. Adanika, a sword in each hand, took up position beside me, her face defiant.
The graces drew their swords and advanced. They were too many – far too many – for us to vanquish, but surrender wasn't an option. Dead or captured, our mission would be ended. All we could do was fight.
"Edric," Elspeth whispered urgently, "the shadows are moving."
And they were. All around the room, behind the advancing graces, the darkness rippled and pulsed. It heaved one last time, and revenants tore their way into the living world.
They came by the score, skull-helms gleaming, to claim me. For days, they'd waited silently amongst the mists, their numbers growing as they sought glimpses of my wayward soul. Now they had come at last.
Had I been alone, the revenants would have taken me. Third-rate swordsmen though they were, there were so many. Unfortunately for the revenants, a ring of graces stood between them and their prey.
Perhaps the revenants would have left the graces be, had they been given the chance, content to claim my soul and depart Skyhaven as quickly as they'd come. I'd never know. As the revenants flowed forward, the graces forgot all about us.
What followed was a battle as horrible as it was brief. Although each stroke of a grace's sword was fit to banish four or five revenants, not one serathi survived to strike a second blow. As their comrades dissipated into writhing smoke, the revenants surged on, hacking and thrusting, swarming the graces with a tide of unfeeling bodies.
For the first time, I'd the impression the graces were afraid. I recalled the unmasked grace I'd seen in Tressia, and how her face had seemed withered as if by old age. Were the serathiel's guards any less dead than I? It would certainly have explained the frenzy with which the revenants set about them. In moments, only a handful revenants still stood, but all nine graces were dead.
Still the revenants came on. Their need to claim my soul still burned deep, but they'd badly misjudged the situation. Two were borne away as Jaspyr and Fredrik sprang forward. Those who remained lacked the numbers to be anything more than an inconvenience. Earlier, we'd fought and bested a group of graces; we weren't about to fall to a mere handful of revenants.
As an efficient thrust of Jamar's sword banished the last of the creatures to Otherworld, I sheathed my sword and climbed the spiral stairway, taking the steps two at a time. Throwing back the bolts, I heaved the trapdoor aside, and entered the room beyond.
This was a much more glorious space than the chamber below, lit as it was by the rays of the sun. The walls were fashioned entirely of polished glass, save for the uprights and spars that held the panels. The chairs and tables – even the low bookshelves set around the walls – were fashioned from gold, or a metal very much like it. Under other circumstances I'd have been awed by such splendour. But I was not that day, for there was someone in that room worth more to me than all the glories of Skyhaven, or the world beyond. A stupid grin crept across my face. For there, on the far side of the room, clad in a scarlet dress and her hands bound with silver rope, was Arianwyn.
Or so I thought.
As I drew nearer, I realised my mistake. The woman looked like Arianwyn, but carried herself very differently. There was an unshakeable confidence to her poise, an air of regal certainty that Arianwyn occasionally adopted for effect, and even then she could never have met my gaze as appraisingly as the woman who stood before me now.
My heart sank. This was not Arianwyn, but the Radiant. However, the difference didn't seem to matter to Jaspyr and Fredrick, who padded across the room to sit proudly at her side.
"So that was the cause of the commotion." Even the Radiant's voice sounded different, more measured. It was a far cry from the panicked version I'd encountered in the minutes prior to my death. "I confess, I expected you sooner."
"Did you indeed?" I said, choking back my bitterness. This was far from the reunion I'd sought. I tried not to think on the consequences. If the Radiant had taken over, then Arianwyn – my Arianwyn – was lost.
Seeking distraction, or perhaps support, I turned my attention to my companions. Jamar stared warily at the Radiant. Elspeth looked tired, but her gaze never left the woman in front of us. And Adanika...?
The serathi strode past me and sank to one knee. "Forgive me, Goddess," Adanika whispered, her voice tight with emotion. "Forgive me for all I have done, and all I have not."
After a moment's hesitation, the Radiant stooped to Adanika's level, cupped her bound hands beneath the serathi's chin. "I remember you. You were once the closest of my daughters, but you turned on me."
Adanika tried to look away, but the Radiant held her tight. "I did. I have no excuse. I want to set things right."
"And what if it costs your life, Adanika of the Second Circle?"
"Is that the price of your forgiveness?"
The Radiant shook her head. "No. That I give freely. But it may yet be that your own forgiveness is harder to find."
It was strange to see Adanika, always so self-assured, now penitent to another, but I could stay silent no longer. "Is the possession complete?" I demanded. "Is Arianwyn gone?"
The Radiant rose to her feet. "I am unaccustomed to being addressed so."
"It's my understanding you're not accustomed to being addressed at all of late," I retorted, ignoring the appalled look Adanika gave me. "Answer my question."
"We are not enemies, Edric Saran."
"That's not for you to decide. Answer me."
The Radiant sighed. "She said you'd overreact."
I confess, that threw me. "Who?"
"Arianwyn." The Radiant smiled. It was somehow colder than those I was used to seeing on that face. "She is resourceful, for a mortal."
My heart soared. 'Is' the Radiant had said, not 'Was'. We weren't too late.
"She realised the truth of what was happening to her about a week ago." The Radiant walked over to the small bedside table, and gestured at a sheaf of papers. "She started writing notes to herself – or more precisely, to me – explaining everything she had learnt, had known or expected. I confess I'm impressed by her presence of mind."
So was I. Most people would have despaired to learn their mind and body were no longer wholly their own, but Arianwyn had found a way to make contact. "She's still alive?"
"She is. Our spans of waking have equalised, but no more than that. Azyra sought to accelerate the process, but has been lax of late, and her attention elsewhere."
I could guess where. The serathiel was not the type to delegate the destruction of my people to underlings.
"So," asked Jamar. "What happens now?"
The Radiant held out her hands. "Set me free, and I will help you stop Azyra."
"Why would you do that?" I asked. "She's trying to win the Reckoning before it even starts. Don't you want that?"
"But she's not trying to win this for me, or even for the serathi. This is for her glory, and hers alone. I have no place in the world she will create. Let me help."
"I want to speak to Arianwyn first."
The Radiant shook her head. "You cannot. I have no control over the transition, and I cannot say when she will surface again."
"Then I have no reason to trust you."
Adanika rose to her feet and shot me a warning look. "Edric..."
I waved her into silence and gazed unblinkingly at the Radiant. "You're not my goddess. If Arianwyn is gone, I'll kill you for your part in this."
I wouldn't have blamed the Radiant for remainin
g unconvinced. I wasn't sure I believed it myself – she looked and sounded too much like Arianwyn. But no. I'd make good on my threat. It would break my heart, but I'd do it all the same; one last justice for my beloved.
"You cannot speak to the Radiant this way," said Adanika.
The Radiant who hushed her. "He can, daughter, and he is right to. You are all my children. I am responsible for your deeds." She took a step towards me, and addressed me not as an underling, or as a god would a lowly mortal, but as an equal. "I don't want to die again, but nor do I wish my return to be the cause of another's demise. When this matter is done, I promise I will seek a way to separate myself from this body without causing her harm."
"Is that even possible?" I asked Elspeth.
She nodded warily. "Almost anything is possible. Though I doubt it will be easy."
"Nothing is, lately," muttered Jamar.
I didn't have any choice. Whether Arianwyn was gone or not, whether the Radiant could be trusted or not, I could do nothing to alter the situation. At least if I took the Radiant at her word, there was a chance I'd see Arianwyn again. Besides, I still remembered how willingly the Radiant had helped me in the minutes before my death. Under other circumstances I'd have welcomed her offer of aid without hesitation.
"Set her free," I ordered Jamar, then lowered my voice. "But watch her closely."
He nodded. "Of course, savir."
Crossing the room, he drew his sword and slit the Radiant's bonds. He understood, did Jamar; he always understood. He'd keep the Radiant safe in the hope Arianwyn's spirit was still within her, and he'd remain alert for any sign of betrayal.
The Radiant rubbed her wrists. "I promise I will give you no reason to regret this."
"Even though I'm loyal to your sister Ashana, if to anyone?" I asked.
Elspeth smiled at that remark. As, much to my surprise, did the Radiant.
"Indeed," she said. "But that is a battle far in the future, if it comes at all. Come, child of Ashana. Let us end my daughter's madness."
Thirteen
With no reason to remain in the aerie, we retraced our steps to street level. Jaspyr and Fredrik were no longer our guides. They remained steadfastly at the Radiant's side; it seemed they saw no difference between Arianwyn and the goddess in command of her body. Or, I wondered, given how little I knew about the guardians' origins, it was entirely possible it hadn't been Arianwyn they'd been drawn to at all, but the echo of the Radiant's power that was her birthright.
Instead, Adanika led us now, though somewhat unwillingly. With Arianwyn freed from Azyra's grasp – at least after a fashion – Adanika had argued that none of us needed to remain on Skyhaven. The matter would either be resolved through her challenge of the serathiel, or through the sentinels' incursion – there was no need for the rest of us to endanger ourselves.
Unfortunately for Adanika, none of us were minded to heed that advice. I refused to depart on the grounds that saving Arianwyn – if indeed we'd managed to do so – had been only half the reason I'd come to Skyhaven. Whilst Azyra reigned, my people were in danger. Jamar and Elspeth directly refused to abandon me. For her part, the Radiant would not stand by whilst civil war raged.
Thus, Adanika led us directly to the Courts of Heaven. As the physical and symbolic centre of Skyhaven, that seemed the most likely place to find her.
As we travelled, I caught sight of revenants moving between the buildings. They lurked in groups of a dozen or more, hiding in shadowed spaces and searching for serathi who'd become isolated from their sisters. Only when they caught sight of suitable prey did the revenants venture into sunlight, their blades paralysing the serathi as they'd once paralysed me. Once the victim was overwhelmed, the surviving revenants dragged her back into the darkness and tore her to pieces. Even by the standards of recent experience, it was horrible.
"Why are they here?" I asked Adanika. "I thought they'd only come after me."
It was the Radiant who answered. "The hatred between darkness and light is almost as deep as that which lies between darkness and life." She spoke quietly, her eyes surveying the fighting with a sadness that made her appear truly mortal. "Skyhaven was hidden to prevent such a day as this, but your presence shines like a beacon. They have followed it here."
I thought back to the dying serathi at the fountain. "That's what Ysella meant."
"It had to be done," Adanika replied, her voice taut. "The sentinels alone could never have defeated our sisters."
In that, at least, Adanika was right. The appearance of the revenants had certainly stemmed the losing tide of the battle. It was war, I told myself. Sometimes victory forgave all, and we sought not merely victory, but survival. Nevertheless, I couldn't entirely shed my misgivings. In the past, the Great Powers and their servants had used mortals. Now, we – or, more specifically, I – were using them. I wasn't sure I liked that idea.
As it turned out, the revenants weren't intent on the serathi to the exclusion of all else. As we left the stairs, dozens closed in around us. Clearly they hadn't forgotten why they'd been drawn to Skyhaven.
The Radiant's eyes flashed white. A pulse of golden energy swept outwards from her body. I felt brief pain as the golden light caressed me. It passed over my companions without effect. Where it touched the revenants they burst into brief, brilliant flame, before crumbling to ash.
The Radiant's lips twisted into cruel, satisfied smile. "Darkness has never equalled the light."
Jamar stayed much closer to the Radiant after that, and watched her very carefully indeed. Like me, he was uneasy about having a so powerful and inconstant ally within our midst.
From that point on, we kept to the centre of the streets, wary of revenants striking from the shadows. We passed several knots of bodies, and I remarked that a growing number of shattered drudges lay amongst the dead. Unlike the ones I'd seen earlier, they were armed and armoured.
"Azyra grows desperate," Elspeth observed as we picked our way through one such gathering of the slain. "She'd never stoop to such humiliation otherwise."
"I don't follow," said Jamar.
"The idea that the serathi cannot defend their home without assistance is abhorrent to her," said Adanika. "Simply by sending the drudges out to fight, Azyra admits Zorya's army poses a threat."
In the next street over, we encountered a double row, each of ten armoured drudges, stood waiting quietly at attention. They were completely unmoving, and stared straight ahead. I checked my advance as soon as we saw them, but Adanika strode on, oblivious to the threat.
"It is quite safe," the serathi called out. "They have received contradictory orders and are awaiting clarification.
"Azyra's started gainsaying her own commands?" I asked. No serathi could have reversed the serathiel's orders. "Surely she isn't that mad."
"She may very well be." Elspeth met the sightless gaze of a drudge. "But she's no longer the only serathiel on Skyhaven."
"Zorya?"
Adanika nodded. "Indeed. Whatever we did to her body and soul, it appears the drudges recognise her authority. It will redress the balance."
A simple deduction, but it struck me as a heartless one. "It's more than that. She's trying to stop them from being hurt."
"Perhaps. But I think that you transpose too many of your own concerns onto Zorya's actions."
"Really?" I countered. "It's not so different a sentiment to the one that saw her exiled, is it?"
Adanika turned away without answer, and we pressed on.
*******
We didn't see any serathi or drudges for some time – they, like the sounds of battle – were still far ahead. However, we were attacked twice by revenants. The first occasion was resolved quickly and painlessly, with the Radiant again banishing our attackers with a pulse of golden light. The second was more problematic because, just as the revenants attacked, Arianwyn's personality broke through.
I missed the transition at first – not that I recognised it for such at the time. Jamar's cry of alarm
was the first I knew of the change. As revenants emerged from the streets around us, I spun around to see the havildar catch Arianwyn as she fell.
For what seemed like a lifetime, we had a desperate time of things. At least twenty revenants assailed us. Even after Jamar had handed Arianwyn to Elspeth to increase his freedom of movement, we were hard-pressed to fend them off.
Only when Arianwyn shook off her grogginess did we make progress. Though her magic was neither so dramatic nor as effective as the Radiant's, she nonetheless encased several of our attackers in prisms of hazy light, preventing them from moving long enough to even the odds. She even threw up a glittering shield – much like the one I'd seen Koschai conjure some days ago – to save Jamar from a crippling strike.
As the last of the spectres hissed into nothing, I ran to Arianwyn's side, only to find I'd nothing to say. It was ridiculous. I'd travelled long and far – had literally returned from the other side of death to see her again – and still I couldn't find any words.
Arianwyn smiled sadly and raised her hand to my cheek. "Azyra said she'd banished you, but I knew better. I found your rings fused to the floor of the chamber, and I knew. I cried myself to sleep that night, knowing what she'd done and how helpless I was to bring her to account. The next morning, I started leaving notes for the Radiant."
"She told me." I gathered Arianwyn up into an embrace. "I'm sorry for everything that's happened," I whispered. "I brought this to pass."
"Azyra would have found me sooner or later. I agreed to let her 'teach' me. We're together again. That's all that matters." She drew back, and fixed me with a brilliant, teary, smile. "I saw Constans in a dream. He told me you'd come for me. I thought I was going mad, but here you are. How can I possibly be angry at you?"
Constans had told her? Somehow I wasn't surprised. "It's not forever."
"Nothing is," she replied, "but we'll find a way to solve this. We always do."
I didn't believe her, but I didn't want to spoil that rare and beautiful moment with the shadow of sorrows to come. Besides, though the others had withdrawn to give our reunion the illusion of privacy, Adanika and Elspeth gazed at us impatiently. Jamar's attention was solely on the streets ahead. As quickly as I could, I told Arianwyn of the serathiel's plan, of the unlikely help I'd had from Solomon and Karov, and how we intended to stop Azyra.