I keep getting distracted. Well, Colosse was a distraction, a distraction from worrying about the God-Empress and what Vorantor might want from me and whether or not Cederic will be able to prove himself right. It might not be as big as Venetry, but it’s still pretty damn big, and blindingly white in the sun because they surface all their buildings with white plaster or white marble, depending on the wealth of the owner. The roofs are like jewels in the sun, all different colors that don’t come from paint but from this huge variety of slate that either comes from the nearby mines or is imported.
I learned the color of a roof represents someone’s religious allegiance, in a way. They all worship the same God, but their God has so many traits that people here adopt one and let it define their lives. For example, someone might value Truth above all else, and they’d put a blue roof on their home and be known for always seeking for truth, however uncomfortable that might be. Not that someone who valued Strength couldn’t be trusted to be truthful, and a seeker for Truth might not always be totally honest, it’s just that Strength or Truth would be what drives that person.
And it’s still true that you can count on an adherent of a particular virtue to behave in certain ways, because they see that virtue as an important aspect of who they are. To me, it seems like bragging about how truthful or strong or generous you are, but Audryn also implied that someone not adhering to the principles of their adopted virtue can be charged with impiety in front of the God-Empress, who probably doesn’t appreciate people treating her (as avatar of their God) with such disrespect. One more reason not to declare one’s allegiance, I’d think.
Anyway, what with the colored roofs, Colosse looks like a pile of gems snuggled up against the banks of the river, but with the white walls and the wide, paved roads that are perfectly regular, it also looks like a model city, something built by a giant and left behind when she went home for supper.
Even though I could see all the foot traffic, the loenerel is nearly soundproof and what noise it lets pass is muffled by the noise of its wheels and the thumping of the collenna, and the silence made the city seem even more like a toy, with people being made to move by that giant’s pouvra. It was almost a relief to roll through the big, square opening in the side of the palace and into the darkness beyond.
It wasn’t completely dark, just dim by comparison to the blindingly white buildings outside. The loenerel slid to a halt, though the collenna’s thumping continued, more quietly now that it wasn’t pulling anything, and Vorantor (we were all sitting in a couple of the senets filled with rows of seats) stood and walked forward to the door, which is a thing that is hinged in the middle so it folds on itself, and opened it. It was almost like a ceremony, he and his mages looked so solemn, and they all remained seated while Cederic and our mages and I stepped out past Vorantor and into the chamber beyond.
It was narrow, almost like a corridor, and low-ceilinged, and its shape looked as if it had been designed specifically for the loenerel. Cederic immediately walked forward, which is to say toward the front of the loenerel, without waiting for Vorantor to catch up. We all followed him, me at the end of our little procession that had to go single file because the room (tunnel?) had such little space between the loenerel and the wall. I kept close to Kaurin, who was immediately in front of me. I would have held on to her robe if I’d dared, because the whole thing made me claustrophobic in a way the Darssan had not, even when I felt most oppressed by the weight of the mountain hanging over my head.
We came to a pair of double doors at the end of the tunnel, and Cederic pushed them open as if he had a perfect right to be here. I wished I had a good excuse to push past everyone and stand next to him, to have some idea of what to expect based on how he felt, but I guessed by how abruptly he was doing things, how rapidly he was moving, that he was trying to control his anger. I don’t blame him for being angry.
Now that we were actually in the palace (or, rather, I assumed we were in the palace and not just wherever the loenerel could be stowed) it was nearly impossible not to remember why we were here, and the manner of our being brought here. I don’t think Cederic told any of our mages, the ones who came with us, what threats Vorantor had made—not something they needed to be burdened with, in my opinion, and not something they could do anything about. Though I imagine all of them knew better than I did what kind of danger the God-Empress presented.
The double doors opened on a space even larger and taller than the cavern in the Darssan, and far more opulent. The walls were tiled with mosaics depicting all kinds of heroic deeds, again in colors that reminded me of jewels—a hero slaying a giant, another wrestling with a dragon, yet another holding back the tide from a city on the edge of the ocean.
It took me a minute to work out what was wrong with the pictures, and then I couldn’t stop noticing it. All the mosaics appeared to be the work of a single hand, which was impressive—it must have taken a lifetime to create them, based on the size of the room—but the heroes’ faces had been put in by someone far less gifted, and they were all the same woman’s face. No doubt what had happened there, and whose face adorned each mosaic. If I hadn’t already been convinced of the God-Empress’s self-aggrandizing lunacy, this would have done it.
The floor was tiled with larger tesserae in gold and copper, making a pattern far too large for me to make out. Maybe if I could find a way up to the upper levels—there were four of them, all with balconies that had nothing but a single protective rail keeping an observer from plummeting to a painful, skull-cracking death.
I saw no stairs, but five dark openings spaced evenly around the room separated the mosaics from one another, the one we’d entered by making a sixth. The room was completely empty except for us. Cederic walked toward the center of the room—no, I’m certain that, since he’s Sai Aleynten, it was the exact center of the room, and now I can say that out of admiration and not annoyance—and stood with his arms folded across his chest, waiting.
After a minute or two in which the rest of us became increasingly nervous and fidgety, a woman emerged from the dark opening directly ahead of us, walking rapidly, her hand closed in a fist over her throat. She managed to bow, a rapid bobbing of her head, as she walked, and as she neared us I could tell she was terrified and trying not to show it. “We apologize, Kilios, a thousand apologies. Someone was meant to meet you—Kilios, please forgive—”
“We require accommodations and the wherewithal to wash after our long journey,” Cederic said. His cold tone of voice made me shiver. The woman bobbed even more rapidly and waved her hands in the direction of one of the other alcoves. Cederic allowed her to precede him; everyone else followed in a line, with me again at the rear.
Now that I know that the palace has been built and rebuilt over the years, with sections being shut off and others rediscovered (literally; there have been rooms no one even remembered until a God-Emperor’s building project uncovered them), I can understand why the woman led us in such a circuitous route. I’ve had years of experience in remembering my way out of homes and manors made to thwart thieves, and even I couldn’t remember the path we took. I’ll have to do some exploring later tonight.
At the time, I thought she was trying to confuse us, possibly in retribution for how rude Cederic was. But the servants here all seem thoroughly cowed, and while I don’t know why they called Cederic Kilios, and I still don’t know what it means, they definitely venerate him. And they’re uncomfortably terrified around me. I have yet to make one of them look me in the eye. How that reconciles with my suspicion that someone is spying on us, I don’t know, except that it’s unlikely all the God-Empress’s servants are this spineless.
The woman brought us through some narrow passages that smelled damp, which I thought was strange given how arid Colosse is in general. Then we walked up a fairly steep ramp into a wider corridor made of yellow bricks twice the size of my head, lined with doors on both sides. The doors were made of the same metal the ones in the Darssan were, and none
of them had locks, which made me less nervous than if they had locks that could only be locked from the outside, but not by much.
The woman, bowing again (she’d stopped doing that briefly while we were walking along the narrow corridor), opened the first door and said, “Please accept the God-Empress’s hospitality during your stay,” and beckoned to Sovrin, who was at the head of the line, to enter. Sovrin glanced at Cederic, who nodded a tiny bit, and she went into the room and closed the door. I had time to wonder how they’d get our things to us when the woman moved on to the next door and repeated the ritual for Jaemis. Ultimately, everyone got a room to him- or herself, until it was just me and Cederic left with the woman.
Cederic still looked like a statue. I probably looked confused. The woman went through a doorway at the end of the corridor, where there were stairs leading up. She said, as we climbed and climbed, “Otherworlder, we have nothing that befits your status, I hope you will forgive our inhospitality. We will put you in the wing with the Sais, I hope that is acceptable.”
We came out of the stairwell into a long, broad hallway paved with giant gray flagstones that had a roof open to the outside. The roof was a series of metal grilles that made diamond patterns of shadow and light on the floor. It wasn’t nearly as hot as the wasteland, but the air was very dry and smelled of dust and, more distantly, of magic. Doors more widely spaced than the ones where my friends had been housed, these made of new, planed wood and bearing shining steel plates with locks by the doorknobs, stood along both walls of the corridor. I wanted to run down the hall and see what was at the other end, but that would probably have given the servant woman a heart attack, so I decided to save that for later. I have a lot of plans for later.
The woman walked a short distance down the hallway and stopped at the third door. “Again I apologize for the paucity of your accommodations,” she said, and pushed the door open for me. I went inside and nearly fainted. I have never seen anything so opulent, and I have stood in the King’s own antechamber and wondered which of his treasures I should take first while he slept in the next room.
The flagstone floor, identical to that of the hallway outside, was covered with a thick maroon rug like the pelt of a large, strangely colored bear. Glazed windows, their golden velvet drapes pulled back to admit the morning sun, looked out over the roofs and windows of the patchwork palace. A bed stood in one corner, covered in blankets that matched the rug and the drapes, with enough white pillows that I could have made a bed from them alone. Four pillars at its corners supported a gauzy golden curtain that was currently pulled back and tied at each post.
A dressing table made of the same mahogany as the bed, mahogany that would have cost a fortune in my world, stood next to a matching wardrobe large enough for me and Audryn and Sovrin to hide in together while we plotted tricks to play on the men. A mirror hung over the dressing table, and I don’t know why that struck me as a far greater luxury than any of the rest of the furniture, but I’ve never had a mirror that wasn’t cracked and certainly not one that could show me my entire body at once, supposing I cared to look.
There were more rugs scattered across the floor, and I went forward to open the wardrobe, because this all felt like a joke the God-Empress wanted to play on the otherworlder woman, and someone might be waiting inside to leap out and startle me. It was empty except for a few drawers and hangers. I didn’t have nearly enough to fill it, which was good—always travel light, that’s one of my many mottoes—but it made me feel awkward, as if they were giving me all of this because they think I’m more important than I am. I hope I’m not more important than I think I am.
“This will be adequate,” I managed to choke out, and the woman bowed and bobbed even more than before.
“Someone will call for you, when it is time for our audience,” Cederic said, and then he abandoned me—well, not really, but the woman closed the door and I was alone amid opulence I’m certain I don’t deserve. On the other hand…it is awfully nice, and the bed looked soft, not that I’d jump on it until I was out of these travel-stained clothes.
I jumped on it anyway. I’m not ashamed.
I practiced locking and unlocking the door with the pouvra—I noticed the woman didn’t give me a key, so it was important I learn to do that—and I took off my boots and jumped on the bed more, which is undignified in someone my age, I know, but I couldn’t resist, and then I sat around trying to decide what to do next. I thought about exploring, but I didn’t know when the God-Empress would call for us, and I didn’t want to miss that audience. So I put off exploring until I could do it when no one would expect me to be running around.
This book was nearly discovered when a couple of men entered my room without knocking. I shouted at them and explained at length about my customs (what is it about Castavirans that they don’t believe in waiting on an invitation?) and they bowed and groveled until I felt guilty. It turned out they came to measure me for my palace wardrobe.
Wardrobe? Yes, wardrobe. Etiquette is very strict here in the palace, and while as I am an otherworlder it’s understood that my mistakes aren’t meant as a slight to the God-Empress, I’m still expected to make an effort. The men had armloads of clothing, most of it the same rich brocades and velvets Vorantor’s mages wear, and if I didn’t know the God-Empress was crazy, this and the mosaics would definitely confirm it, because brocade and velvet in this climate is insane. Even if the palace does have some kind of cooling system.
Anyway, they made me put on everything, and some things they discarded and others they fitted to me, and there was one long-skirted dress with full sleeves, made of linen, that they said was a pattern for my other dresses. Since they’d already fitted me with ten robes of varying lengths and trousers with wide legs like divided skirts, I’m not sure how many more dresses I need. At least they’re nothing I’d want to carry with me, because there’s no way I could manage that lot.
While I was being fitted, another servant came in with my bag and began putting my things away. Good thing I keep this diary on me, though I had to undress for some of the fittings and it was tricky keeping it hidden inside my discarded clothes. It’s too bad I’ve never had to do anything like that before. Hahahaha. This servant kept looking at me as if thinking “why does the otherworlder have so little?” and then he left and came back when the fitting was almost done with a box filled with all sorts of things: hairbrush and comb and hair clips, soaps and lotions, a file for my nails, and—this really shocked me—a flat box filled with jewelry.
Not fake jewelry. They go in for cabochons rather than faceted stones, and they use more semiprecious stones like agates and jaspers, but the workmanship is incredible and some of the filigree work is far beyond anything my world has produced. And they just gave it to me. No one’s ever given me jewelry before; I’ve always had to steal it, and of course I never kept any of it because it was far more valuable in trade for books. It still shocks me.
I should stop if I want any time for exploring tonight. I didn’t realize how late it was. Cederic just came in to say good night. He also said, “I would tell you not to wander, but I realize that would be pointless,” and he’s right, because there’s no way I’m not going to investigate this palace. But I’ll have to write about that tomorrow. That, and seeing the God-Empress this afternoon. It was nothing like I expected.
Chapter Twelve
5 Lennitay, way too early in the morning
I’ve only had a few hours of sleep, but I want to write everything that’s happened while it’s still fresh in my memory. Especially what I learned from exploring last night.
But first, the God-Empress. I almost don’t know where to begin. So I suppose I’ll start with the clothing, because that was strange. I had about half an hour to play with the jewelry before the men with the clothing came back, with friends, and then it was like being at the center of a fuchsia-scented whirlwind of brocade.
Two of the servants hung clothes in the wardrobe and put away all sorts of garme
nts I hadn’t seen before, including underclothing, and then the men left and the women stripped me naked and began dressing me as if I were an infant. I protested loudly, but stopped when they all became hugely apologetic. I learned this was supposed to be an honor, a service normally performed only for God-Emperors, and if I rejected it they would all be punished.
So I mentally said some very rude things about the God-Empress, never mind what Cederic said, and let them wrap me in more layers than I’d ever worn in my life, including a breast band, which they don’t have in my country. I tried one back in the Darssan, but I’m not exactly well-endowed and I decided a good shirt is enough support for me. It felt awkward and strange and I hoped it wasn’t obvious from the way I held my arms that I was wearing it.
Then there was a thin thigh-length robe that went over the wide-legged trousers, both of them a beautiful cerulean blue I’d only ever seen on pottery before. After that came a sleeveless tunic made of a multicolored brocade that has tassels hanging from the hem to my knees. If they were allowed to swing free, they would be annoying, but they’re constrained by the over-robe, which is gold velvet that matches the curtains so closely they might have come from the same bolt. It has shorter sleeves than the thin under-robe, so the blue shows, and it fastens only with a single button at the waist, so it’s open over the brocade tunic and some of the tassels are visible.
And then they put a white thing like a sheet sewn up the sides over my head, so the whole outfit is covered up. I asked what the point was (I was more polite than that) and the gist of their explanation was that the God-Empress expects everyone to dress in their finest court clothing when they wait upon her, but not to outshine her. Hence the white sheet. Insane. Though with a certain logic.
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