by C. M. Hayden
Nima seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded. “Yes.”
Taro peeked around the doorway and saw Praxis place his hands on Nima’s shoulders. He was much older than her, and the motion made Taro’s temper flare hot for a moment until the sleazy man released her. “If you don’t think you can do it, just tell me. We’ll find another way.”
Nima looked very different. It’d been over a year since Taro had really seen her, but she looked several years older. Her hair was tied back into a tight braid, and she wore the hard-shelled white uniform vaguely reminiscent of an Inquisitor.
Nima stared up at Praxis with hard eyes. “I’m ready.”
“That’s my girl,” Praxis said, touching her arm again. It lingered for an uncomfortable moment. “We should hurry. My horse is outside.”
“I’ll catch up,” Nima said.
“You’re sure? Even on foot, they’ve got quite a head start.”
Nima nodded. “Yes, I just need a minute. I’ll meet you there.”
Taro and Vexis ducked behind one of the rows of hanging bodies as Praxis hurried out. When he was a fair distance, Nima spoke loudly.
“Your brother’s a creep,” she said.
Vexis stopped hiding and simply strolled into the study, taking a seat on one of the rotating chairs and spinning like a six-year-old. “Your brother’s not much better,” she said.
Nima did a double take. “My brother?”
Taro moved to the doorframe. He expected Nima’s eyes to light up and for her to run into a hug. After all, it had been a long time. However, his sister just gave him a dispassionate scowl.
“What are you doing here?” she said flatly.
“That’s all you have to say to me?” Taro asked, not bothering to hide his disappointment. “I came hundreds of miles through the desert to save you.”
Nima went to the desk at the end of the room and shuffled through a few bits of alchemy equipment. It seemed mostly to distract herself. “Did I ask you to save me?”
“Yes, you did actually.” Taro raised his voice again, more than slightly hurt that Nima was being so confrontational. “You wrote ‘help me’ on the two-way parchment.”
Nima looked puzzled. “Mr. Mathan had the other piece. I was talking to him. He sent me here to his brother, Thaedos. The guy was a real sleazebag.”
So, Thaedos had lied about seeing Nima. Not surprising.
“You came here voluntarily?” Taro asked.
Nima made an expansive gesture. “Do I look like I’m a prisoner?”
“But why?”
“You lied to me, Taro. You said we’d get through everything together. Then you tried to force me home. Do you have any idea how that feels? I liked the Magisterium. I liked learning magic. You ruined it.” She glared at him. “Well, no more. I get to decide what I do and where I go.”
Taro tried to choose his next words carefully, but they came out all wrong. “You’re in danger here. Whatever problems we have, we can work them out. Mom and Dad miss you. The boys miss you.”
“Danger?” Nima smirked. “You just don’t get it. I’m powerful here. I’m useful here.” Nima raised one hand, exposing long detailed magistry tattoos on her forearms. At the same time, shadows pooled around her wrist and fingers.
Taro’s heart sank. “Nima, no.”
The shadows ran along her fingers in a flowing motion, almost like water suspended in the air. “Amazing, isn’t it? It kind of feels like warm oil.”
“I’ve seen what that kind of magic can do to a person’s mind.” He nudged toward Vexis. “You see how she is? Her sister, Kadia, is a hundred times worse. It’s eaten into her brain, made her a babbling psychopath.”
“Dr. Halric said only weak people would be affected like that. He said I was strong. And I’ve been practicing it for almost a year with Praxis, and I haven’t gone crazy.” Nima looked indignant. “If you could just see the things I can do.”
“I’ve seen what Vexis can do. What the Shahl can do. That kind of magic can only destroy. It’s not a magister’s way.”
“I’m not a magister, and I never will be. You made sure of that.” The shadows receded from her hands, and she approached Taro and hugged him around the middle, her head only coming up to his chin. “Don’t worry, big bro. This time, I’m the one that’s going to protect you.” Nima started to leave.
Taro shot a glance at Vexis. “Do something.”
Vexis shrugged. “She seems to have her mind set. What makes you think I’m inclined or capable of changing it?”
Taro grasped at the air in Nima’s direction and limped toward her. “Nima…just...please, don’t do this. Magister Sullen is with the Sun King. He knows what you look like. What’ll it mean for Mom and Dad? They could be arrested for treason just for knowing you.”
Nima hesitated. For a minute, it seemed as though he’d gotten through to her, but she quickly recovered. “They won’t see my face. I’ll make sure of it.” She started for the door again.
“Wait!” Taro shouted. She didn’t slow down. Taro moved as fast as he could to keep up with her, but the pain in his leg was too much. He slumped to the floor supported only by his walking stick.
Taro felt Vexis’ hand rest on his shoulder. He pulled away from her and practically snarled. “This is your fault,” he snapped.
Vexis shrugged. “Maybe if you’d learn to tell the truth now and again, she’d actually believe you when you said something was dangerous.”
“Why did Halric choose her?” Taro asked.
“Young. An open templar. Easily disposable. If she went mad, what did it matter?” Vexis shrugged again. “But she’s right, she is strong. Lucky her.” Vexis stretched her arms. “I’d better go. I don’t wanna miss the fun.” She eyed one of the pale hanging bodies and poked it. A string of slime stuck to her fingers and she wiped it off on her shirt. “I wouldn’t stay down here too long.”
And she left without another word.
Taro sat alone in the dark, surrounded by the swaying bodies. His leg ached like never before, his head bumped, and he couldn’t even begin to think of a way forward.
From the darkness came a familiar face. It shined with a soft glow that illuminated the immediate area. It was Aris, sitting on the ground on his knees on his palms.
“What?” Taro said bitterly, eyeing the ghost-like figure. “Is this the part where you tell me how stupid I am?” He struggled to pull himself up with his walking stick. “I’m going home.”
“You think this is something you can just walk away from?” Aris said, expressionless.
“Nima wants nothing to do with me.” Taro could feel tears swelling in his eyes, but he fought them down.
“Grow up.” Aris motioned toward one of the hanging bodies. Its lifeless eyes were wide open and peered out like two gray riverstones. “What do you think these are for?”
“Just a bunch of dead bodies.”
Aris shook his head. “These are empty vessels. Meat-sacks sewn together with profane magistry.” He ran his fingers down seams on the sides of the body. Taro looked closer and could see areas of the flesh that seemed bonded together through magical means, not sewn as he had first thought.
“But there are hundreds of these things,” Taro said.
“Thousands,” Aris corrected. “The Shahl’s been busy.”
“But for what?” Taro thought of a few answers to his own question. “He was trying to create life with these things? That’s not possible, is it?”
Aris shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. The Shahl is an old man, Taro. His body and soul has been stretched to the breaking point. He wants true immortality. Perhaps he was trying to find a way to make himself a new body.”
Taro thought on it. “The Netherlight can’t grant more life…” He looked up sharply. “But the Arclight can.”
Aris nodded. “Exactly. But he’d have to tear it apart. And between him and the Arclight lies the Magisterium and the armies of the Sun King. Now that you’ve taken the Netherligh
t from him, it will only fuel his desperation.”
“Vexis wanted to win the Arclight for her father. Give him everything he wanted.”
“At the cost of every man, woman, and child in Endra—including the Helians, I might add—she’s no saint. Her mind has been corrupted by the darkness. Maybe at one time there was goodness in her, but it’s been overwhelmed by wickedness and desire.”
Taro laughed aloud so hard a tear trickled down his eye.
“What’s so funny?” Aris asked.
“All this time I thought she was some kind of brilliant mastermind, but she just want’s Daddy’s approval.” He took a shallow breath and gulped. “You think he’s going to attack Endra Edûn?”
“Without a doubt.” Aris stared at the hanging bodies grimly. “I think he intended to animate these poor devils with a combination of the Arclight and Netherlight.”
Aris’ body began to flicker and fade. He looked at the backs of his hands and sighed, then to Taro. “This isn’t about your family anymore. Get the Netherlight out of the city. Get it as far from the Shahl as possible.”
From what Taro had seen of the Shahl, he knew the man was, at bare minimum, a psychopath that shouldn’t be anywhere near the power of the Old Gods. Taro nodded and steadied himself against his walking stick.
Aris seemed pleased, though his form barely had any cohesion left to it.
“Is there anything you can do to help me?” Taro asked.
“I already have,” Aris said. “At midday tomorrow an airship will arrive from Endra. Get the Sun King and his men to the northern sand dunes outside the city.”
“But the city is on lockdown. How are we supposed to get there?”
“That part you’re going to have to figure out on your own.” As Aris’ form dissipated, his voice faded with him. Just before the faintest hint disappeared into nothingness, he looked Taro in the eye and spoke with a tenderness that Taro had never known him to have. “Don’t be afraid, Taro,” he said. “I’ll be with you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Hiding
WITH THE VAST MAJORITY of city guards hunting after the Sun King and his men, the aculam was even more empty than before. Taro used the lull to retrieve the Netherlight and sword hilt from their hiding place in the small chapel, careful to make sure he wasn’t being followed. He wedged it out of the loose brick and stuffed it into his inner cloak pocket.
Slowly, he made his way back to the coat room, out the door, and into the alley. It was still dark, but the cheerful sounds of the festival were now gone. There was an unnatural silence thick about the air. Taro pointedly avoided going anywhere near the festival square and instead followed the back-alleys toward Riverward Dock. It was on the western bank of the River Cardaeros, a wetland with mushrooms and long reeds sprouting from the moist sand. There weren’t any large structures here, just a few derelict docks, fragments of old fishing wharfs, and some trash littering the edge of the river.
As far to the south as one could get without getting to the next fishing area was a tiny shack that looked as though it had been cobbled together with driftwood. It sat a few feet from the edge of the river and seemed as though at one point its bottom beams had been submerged in water, as they were covered in mussels and dry algae, and were two shades darker than the rest of the frail structure.
Moonlight glinted off the river’s surface, giving the area an almost dreamlike quality.
Taro approached the fishing shed with caution. The warped wood of the stairs creaked as he climbed, and the entire area reeked of fish and moldy wood. One of the stairs was rotten to the core, and Taro’s prosthetic went right through it. While he fought to free his leg from the splintered plank, he noticed a flicker in the dusty, cracked window beside the shed door. An eye stared out at him, and the door rattled.
Magister Sullen poked his head out, looked both ways, and ushered Taro inside. “Quickly,” he whispered.
Taro yanked his leg free and slipped inside. It was little more than a one-room storage shed filled with old fishing equipment, lures, lines, paddles, all strung together with cobwebs. Hanging from the ceiling were batches of thick netting that held crates.
In the corner were the Sun King’s men, four warders and two magisters. They had no obvious injuries, but they moved sluggishly and had a slight daze to their eyes. They sat in near total darkness, with only the light of the stars and moons flooding in through the cracked windows. Mica sat in silence, apart from the others, his eyes glazed over and distant. There were a few speckles of red makeup left on his cheek, and the edges of his hair were frayed from where his wig had been.
The Sun King was sitting on a stool beside a broken window, staring into downtown Helia. He smiled when he saw Taro, though it was clearly forced. He looked older somehow; the lines on his face were more pronounced; and though he held himself much better than the others, he was no doubt exhausted.
“Your Majesty,” Taro said with a nod.
The Sun King motioned toward a stool near him, and Taro sat.
The Sun King continued to stare out into the city and seemed to be listening for something. “We’re stuck in the heart of the city. We’ll never make it out like this,” he finally said.
Using his heel and remaining arm, Magister Sullen was pulling strips of cloth from some raggedy old clothes and making them into new bandages for his missing arm. “Even if we could,” he said, “we’d never make it through the desert without proper supplies.”
Taro shot a glance around the room. “Where’s Bran?”
“He said he went home,” one of the warders said. “Can we trust him?”
“Not much of a choice,” Taro said simply. “He’s a good kid, though.”
“Were you able to find your sister?” Sullen asked.
Taro decided a lie was the best course of action. “No. She was moved to another town. She’s alive though.” He quickly changed the subject. “I’ve got a way to get us out of here by airship.”
“I don’t think taking back our airship by force is feasible,” the Sun King said.
Taro shook his head. “No need for that. Midday tomorrow, Kyra will arrive by airship in the northern dunes.” Taro pointed in the distance to the sand dunes outside of the city. “We just need to get there.”
“I told her to stay in Endra,” the Sun King said. “How do you know she’s coming?”
“A friend from Endra told me to expect her. I trust the source; she’ll be there.” Taro glanced out the window at the city. “Besides, like I said, we don’t really have many options at this point.”
The Sun King nodded begrudgingly.
“Do the Helians have any anti-aircraft weaponry?” a warder asked.
Magister Sullen shook his head. “No, nothing like that.”
“But the Shahl’s sent out the Inquisitors to track you down,” Taro said. “If they’re even half as powerful as Vexis, they could bring the ship down. We need to get there undetected, and I think I know just the way to do it.”
“Do tell,” Sullen said.
“There are mining tunnels underneath Helia. I saw them the first day I arrived. Mr. Mathan’s brother uses them for his fighting and gambling rings. I never saw the ends, but they must exit somewhere.”
“Mathan’s brother.” The Sun King shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t think that’s a risk? What if he alerts the Shahl? Victor was an avid Vexis supporter.”
“Thaedos isn’t,” Taro said. “For the right price, he’ll help us.”
The Sun King made a motion at his pockets. “I’m afraid I don’t have any coin on me.”
“The Magisterium took control of Victor Mathan’s assets when he died, right? His mansion, his accounts, everything?” Taro said.
Sullen nodded.
“Offer it to Thaedos,” Taro said. “If that doesn’t make him cooperate, nothing will.”
The Sun King looked as though he wanted to say no, but after some thought he agreed. “It’s as good a plan as any. We’ll rest here fo
r a while, and head out before daybreak to reduce the chance of being spotted. Where exactly is the entrance to this tunnel?”
Taro scratched his cheek and chuckled. “It’s…uh…it’s in a bakery.”
The Sun King blinked. “A bakery?”
“I know, I know. Just trust me.”
_____
While the men rested, Taro took the night’s watch. He leaned against the creaking wood of the shed and stared at Magister Sullen from across the room. The silence of the night was punctuated by a thousand crickets chirping, frogs croaking on the riverbank, and mosquitos buzzing around the shed. Taro swatted one and wiped his palm on his sleeve.
The burly magister seemed to notice that he was being watched and glanced up from his half-sleep. “Can I help you with something?”
Taro spoke so quickly he didn’t have time to vet his words. “Why did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Sellout your own kingdom. You, Ross, God knows who else.”
Magister Sullen looked affronted. “Watch your tone with me, kid. You’re still under my command, even here.”
Taro didn’t let up. “You broke the Arclight and framed Vexis for it, didn’t you?”
Sullen sat up, his eyes suddenly serious. “And who told you that? Vexis herself?”
“She has no reason to lie now.”
“When has that creature ever needed a reason to lie?” Sullen grumbled to himself. “I thought you were smarter.”
Taro shook his head slowly. “I just want to know why. What could the Shahl offer you that was worth putting the Arclight in danger?” Taro slipped the Netherlight out of his cloak and held it up. The darkness emanating from it seemed to fill the room like a menacing black cloud. “And what’s this to you?”
Sullen glared darkly at Taro. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Taro palmed the crystal and slipped it back into his pocket. “You expect me to believe that?”
Sullen turned over. “I don’t care much what you believe.”