by R. J. Larson
The gate lowered behind them with an ominous thud.
11
Could this island-kingdom be any worse? Halting in the street beneath the perpetually darkened skies, Kien watched a pack of tattered children beating each other bloody near a refuse heap, fighting as if their lives depended upon the garbage. Where were their parents?
A woman staggered from an arched stone gateway, spied the children, and yelled, “G’on! Leave ’em ’fore I rip out yer hair!” She descended on the urchins and scattered them with curses and thumps until only two remained. And those bloodied two cowered beneath her fists. She cursed again, then snarled, “Set the noon meal ’fore I boil yer ’nstead!”
Her ragged, scrawny offspring snatched rubbish from the heap and scuttled beyond her reach. With their meal, no doubt. Could he at least intercede for these children? Kien bellowed, “In eighteen days the Infinite will destroy Adar-iyr. Repent and be saved!”
Cursing again, the drunken woman grabbed a dirt clod from the heap and flung it at him.
Missed.
Her children hesitated, staring at Kien from the rugged stone archway, which framed a garbage-scattered yard. But when their mother pelted Kien with more curses and dirt clods, they fled. Good. Perhaps he’d saved the little ones from a dirt clod or two. Infinite, protect them. Praying, Kien trudged on, turning from one narrow alley to another, seeking more wretches to warn of their doom.
Wait. Watch.
Infinite? Kien hesitated, the hairs along his neck and arms prickling in unease. Seeing two cloak-obscured forms duck behind a garbage heap in the chilly overcast street ahead, he half drew his Azurnite sword. Robbers? Be with me, Infinite, though I don’t deserve—
One of the forms shifted, hiding behind the mountain of rubbish. But the second man charged Kien, lifting a sword and roaring an incoherent cry, like a man rushing to battle.
Kien waited. His attacker, muscular, with a deeply creased face, loped within striking distance and swung his sword in an undisciplined arc. Kien parried the blow with all his might.
Their blades collided, and the stranger’s sword snapped against the deep blue-gray Azurnite, its broken tip ringing as it hit the nearest wall. The would-be thug gasped and stumbled backward, lifting his almost useless blade. Kien leveled the Azurnite with his assailant’s chin. “In eighteen days, the Infinite will destroy Adar-iyr—repent and be saved!”
The man escaped behind the garbage heap, evidently meeting a fellow conspirator amid a flurry of curses and scuffling. Kien charged after them in time to hear a man’s rough voice snarl, “Run! He’s God-protected and mad!”
Mad? Kien halted. Well, if he wasn’t insane yet, he could be soon, provoked by hunger, cold, fear, and fatigue. As for God-protected . . . yes.
Quiet, furtive footsteps on gritty pavement made Kien turn, sword readied.
The wizened old beachcomber who’d awakened Kien on his first day in Adar-iyr was sneaking across the narrow street. As if trying to escape Kien’s notice. Evidently realizing he’d been caught, the aged man lifted his hands and quavered, “I’d thought t’was you, sea whelp. Don’t kill old Hal!”
Sea whelp. Oh, what a dashing name. Despite his frustration, Kien shook his head, giving Hal a rueful grin, followed by the obligatory stern warning. “In eighteen days, the Infinite will destroy Adar-iyr. Repent and be saved.”
The old man’s eyes widened in the gloom. “You’re serious as I feared. We’re gonna die!” Moving his trembling hands protectively before his face, Hal backed off, then turned and ran.
Finally! Kien almost laughed. Someone had listened.
The Murder Maze unwound before Ela in tortuous darkness, lit only by the branch’s silver-blue glow. Aware of Beka and Jon following with their destroyers, Ela lifted her insignia as high as the ancient tunnel allowed. Each hide-scraping turn brought low grumbles of complaint from the destroyers and provoked Ela’s sense of guilt. She shouldn’t have subjected the destroyers to this. Nor Jon and Beka. But they wouldn’t have allowed her and Tzana to proceed unaccompanied.
Tzana clung to Ela’s neck and whispered, “I can’t like this—it’s scary as ever.”
“Hold tight. We’ll be outside before too long.”
But leaving the oppressive tunnel would mean walking into the sunlit, pale-plastered warmth of Parne’s myriad houses and courtyards: another darkness more malicious than the gloom stifling their senses now.
Shivering, Ela sucked in a breath. The tunnel’s sluggish air lay so stagnant and heavy that a mineral taste lingered on her tongue. Panic pressed into her spirit, threatening to crush her courage. Everything she’d survived in the past nine or so months faded to nothingness. She was, once again, a girl facing Parne’s authorities.
Infinite?
I am here.
Solace enfolded her like a warming mantle. Strengthening her. “Thank You.”
“What?” Tzana whispered.
“I’m praying.” Ela boosted her little sister higher. “You can pray, too, if you’d like. And think of Mother and Father waiting for us.”
Behind them, Jon’s destroyer grumbled in the dark. Audacity huffed. And Pet snuffled at Ela’s hair-braid, startling her. Did the destroyers sense her hostile enemies waiting at the tunnel’s opening? “Easy,” Ela murmured.
Beka’s anxious voice echoed against the stones. “How much farther?”
“Another turn or two. But before each of you walk out, wait until your eyes adjust to the light. Otherwise, you’ll enter Parne blind.”
Wary, Jon called, “Should we fear walking out blind?”
“Jon, they’ll be after me, not you.”
Dry as Parne’s dust, Jon retorted, “We’d prefer to not be incidental casualties.”
She wished she could laugh. “You’ll leave before the siege, unharmed—you, Beka, and your household.”
Pet grunted as they maneuvered the final turn. While she waited for her eyes to adjust, he nipped at Ela’s mantle, tugging her backward a step, as if trying to prevent her from leaving the darkness. Her arms filled with Tzana and the branch, Ela looked up at the massive warhorse. “You sense them, don’t you, dear rascal? Those who hate the Infinite, and me. Well, it’s time to face Parne. Come, come.” Ela led her destroyer into the open, sunlit public square.
And confronted a wall of watchmen, traders, and citizens, some glaring.
The watchman who’d refused her entry snarled in a clear attempt to protect himself against his perceived failure. “Why have you broken through the gate against my command?”
Feeling her little sister tremble, Ela ignored him. Rude man! When Beka and Jon emerged from the tunnel with their destroyers, she set Tzana on Parne’s worn stone pavings. “Go stand with Beka.”
Her small face pitiably wrinkled, Tzana argued, “But I want to go to Father and Mother.”
“Father is coming—you’ll see him soon.” Ela kissed her sister’s cheek, willing her to feel the Infinite’s calm. His love. “But until Father arrives, please stand with Beka.”
Chin down, her footsteps a mournful trudge, Tzana went to Beka and took her hand.
Beka hugged the little girl in welcome, then flicked her dark gaze at the furious watchman.
He repeated, “Why have you broken through the gate against my command?”
Behind Ela, Pet rumbled a deep threat, dangerously close to becoming Scythe. Ela touched her destroyer’s powerful face. “Be still.”
The destroyer snorted, then stilled.
Ela frowned at the watchman and raised her voice so the growing crowd could hear. “The Infinite opened the gate, then closed it behind us. So how have I harmed you, or Parne? And why would you refuse to allow me to visit my family—my city? Am I a criminal? If so, then arrest me!”
Shadows loomed behind the watchman now. Smoke-murky forms, their twisting movements indicating deliberate intelligent action. Sending malice toward her. Malice? Ela shook her head. Had she sensed aright? Were those dark-misted forms deceivers? Infinite?
Yes. Do not fear them, for they have no direct power over you, My servant. The Infinite’s voice deepened with grief. Yet their shadows reveal the Adversary’s influence among My people.
Wounded by His sorrow, Ela studied the deceivers. Lying shadow-servants of the immortal Adversary, who warred against the Infinite. . . . Yet the Adversary’s shadows, however loathsome and unnerving, were equaled in nature by the mortals they’d deluded. Didn’t the Book of Beginnings point out that every mortal heart leaned toward evil from childhood? Herself included. Such a humbling thought.
As Ela praised her beloved Creator, the deceivers shifted within the crowd, their hazy forms seeming to darken, conveying hostility against the Infinite. And against the people they’d deceived. Such as this watchman. She stared at the burly man, comprehending his uncertainty and his agitation, which was multiplied by the unseen wraiths lurking about his shoulders.
He recovered and sputtered, “Arrest you? I should! I—”
A man’s rich, taunting voice overrode the watchman’s, beckoning Ela’s attention. “Look who’s finally returned. Our little-girl prophet. Have you found the courage to face your people?”
She recognized the young man’s arrogant, hard-featured bronzed face. Sius Chacen, the firstborn son of Zade Chacen, Parne’s deposed chief priest. Understandable if Sius hated her. On her first day as Parne’s prophet, she’d announced his father’s downfall, as well as Sius’s early death. He narrowed his eyes. “Why should we welcome you, when you’ve abandoned us to seek glory in other lands?”
Glory? Was this her enemies’ plan? To greet her with instant accusations that dishonored her good name? “I’ve followed the will of the Infinite, which gives glory to Him alone—as it should! You allow vindictiveness and envy to warp your senses, son of Zade. You’ve weakened yourself and opened your thoughts to the Adversary’s deceivers.”
“There are no deceivers but you!” Sius spat at her feet and raised his voice. “You and your family are power seekers who use the Infinite’s name to inspire fear. To coerce obedience from those who can’t see the Roehs for the criminals they are!”
Behind him, deceivers’ faces gloated and mocked Ela with twisted sneers. Pleased to be unrecognized by their prey. Pleased to set secret snares for anyone beloved to the Infinite.
Pet rumbled a low threat. Ela reached back to soothe the destroyer, grazing her knuckles against his big neck. But she stared Sius in the eyes and matched his harsh tone. Let everyone hear. “The Infinite will defend my good name. But how can you defend yourself? Your friends sold lethal ores in other lands and accused my father of planning their crimes.”
The young man’s eyes widened. The branch’s gleam intensified in her hands, its blue-white fire revealing the Infinite’s fury. Wiser than mortals, the deceivers shrank away, then vanished. Ela accused Chacen, “Why have you betrayed your people, leading them toward eternal fire, while dealing with their enemies—mortal and immortal—as friends?”
“You have no idea what you’re saying.” And no proof, his look added in gloating silence. “It’s known that prophets are unstable.” Softly, he added, “Prone to early deaths.”
Did he think she would answer him quietly? Wrong! Let everyone hear. “I will not be driven off by your threats and bullying!”
Sius neared. His smile faded and he muttered, “What will it take to banish you?”
Ela refused to mutter. “You’ve no power to exile me.”
“Don’t I? We’ll see!”
She lifted the branch at him and their onlookers, warning, “I won’t leave until the Infinite commands me to go. Do you think the Infinite hasn’t seen your wrongdoings in your secret shrines and the way you’ve dragged so many others with you?”
Even as she spoke, the Infinite sent her a current of emotion—His longing for the people who had once loved Him. Pain knotted in Ela’s throat, stopping her words, cutting to her heart. No doubt the onlookers could see her sorrow. Her tears. Just as she saw their guilt.
Sius Chacen leaned down, almost face-to-face with her, and feigned a smile. “Why the tears? Are you frightened?”
Behind Ela, Pet huffed and stomped. Vibrations rippled through the stones beneath their feet. Ela wished she could allow him to stamp out Sius. She glared at the young man through her tears. “Don’t interpret my grief as weakness. I cry for the Infinite’s sake. And for the people who will die because you and your family have encouraged their rebellious impulses!”
“My father would like to meet you,” Sius murmured.
Meet her and kill her, Ela knew. She dashed a hand over her eyes. “I will speak with your father. But not when he expects it. The Infinite will arrange the time and place. Until then, son of Zade, stay away from me and my family and friends. Unless you’d like to meet my father. He’s coming.”
She sensed Dan Roeh’s approach even before he turned a corner and descended the high rooftop path beyond the now-wary Sius. The sight of her father’s tall, cloak-clad form and toughened brown face made Ela long to run to him like a child.
His suddenly ferocious scowl stopped her cold.
Clearly targeting Sius Chacen, Dan Roeh stepped into the public square and wove his way through the crowd. Tzana’s exultant squeal pierced the air. “Father!” She skittered past Ela and Pet, her small arms outstretched.
Dan bent and scooped up his tiny daughter, almost without breaking his stride. “Chacen!”
Sius Chacen retreated without answering the older man. But he glared at Ela, conveying such hatred that her stomach clenched. No doubt he was planning vicious retribution for her ousting of Zade Chacen as chief priest.
Father growled. Loudly. “He threatened you, didn’t he?”
“He failed.” Ela pitched herself at her father, willing aside all thoughts of the vengeful Chacen clan. “I’m so glad to see you!”
Dan kissed Tzana, then Ela. But he remained distracted, looking over Ela’s head. “Are those . . . destroyers?”
Tzana chirped, “He’s Pet—he loves us. They all love us.”
Eyeing Pet, Savage, and Audacity’s massive forms, Dan muttered, “I hope so.”
“Father.” Ela patted his arm, then nodded toward Jon and Beka. “These are our friends Jon and Beka Thel. They accompanied us here from the Tracelands.”
His tension easing, Dan nodded at Jon and Beka. “Welcome. Please, come eat with us. I’m sure we can find a place for you, and”—he flicked an uncertain glance toward the destroyers—“we’ll feed them too.”
Jon laughed. “We’ll be honored to eat with you. But my staff and servants are camped outside, and we must return to them tonight with the destroyers. Until then, sir, where is your grain market? I ought to purchase bribes for our monsters.”
The destroyers perked their ears at the word grain, obviously interested.
Her fellow Parnians stared as Ela, Tzana, Jon, Beka, and the destroyers followed Father through the huge public square. Ela tried to ignore their whispers and prying looks. She wanted to be Dan and Kalme Roeh’s daughter for now. Nothing more.
Just a few days to rest, Infinite, please . . .
While most Parnians seemed indifferent to their prophet, many threw dagger-looks or frowns of mistrust at Ela, making her cringe inwardly. The indifference was soul-endangering enough, but the hatred . . . Infinite? I grew up among these people. Why haven’t I seen their rebelliousness and spiritual corruption before?
In silent response He sent her images—Ela Roeh as a girl, encircled by the Infinite’s love but ever shunning all whose rebellious, malicious natures displeased or wounded her. Particularly after Tzana’s incurable aging condition became known and the Roehs were considered cursed.
Such self-protecting walls she’d built around herself! Her own stubborn nature refused to permit others near. No wonder she’d never had many friends. No wonder Parne’s true spiritual mire was hidden from her. No wonder so many found it easy to hate her now.
No wonder Parne would find it easy to
kill her. Ela swallowed. Perhaps her own self-isolating walls must come down to enable her to touch Parne’s spirit.
Seeming oblivious to the onlookers, Father walked onward. Eventually the open public square narrowed and funneled into a smaller, less crowded public area, and Ela’s distress eased.
As they walked, Tzana kissed Father’s whiskered cheek and chattered happily. Beside Ela, Jon and Beka stared at Parne’s simple whitewashed homes, stacked like terraced boxes within and against Parne’s vast encompassing walls, with numerous stairs leading to rooftop walkways and countless tiny gardens tucked into all available alcoves.
“This is amazing,” Jon murmured.
“The Tracelands is more beautiful,” Ela said. “But Parne is home.” Even now.
Beka breathed a sigh of admiration at Parne’s temple, placed like a crown at the city’s crest. “How lovely! Ela, everything looks so clean.”
Choked by the thought, Ela said, “I wish it were truly as clean as it looks.”
Parne was like one of its long-buried tomb houses. Pristine walls hiding decay within.
Evidently hearing their conversation, Father glanced over his shoulder and shifted Tzana in his arms. Ela feared he would question her. Instead, he nodded them toward the Roeh home, tucked into the far corner of the public square. “Your mother and brother are awake.”
Her newborn baby brother. Jess! Ela restrained herself. Accompanied by Jon and Beka, she halted Pet, Savage, and Audacity before the house, offered bribes of grain cakes, and commanded them sternly to wait. Father eyed the proceedings with an air of mistrust. At last, evidently convinced the monster-horses would wait, he stepped over the raised threshold. “Kalme, the girls are home!”
Hearing her mother’s joyful cry, Ela stepped inside.
Slender, youthfully pretty, her brown hair flowing down her back, Kalme Roeh kissed Tzana, then snatched Ela into a hug, trembling and laughing between sobs. “My girls! Oh, why did you wait so long to return? Come meet your brother. Jess . . . look who’s here!”