The room was almost identical to the throne room, with the black and white patterned floor and the crystal lamps, though the walls were painted dove gray instead of mirrored, and of course there was no throne. Instead, there was a dais of black marble at the far end of the room, surrounded by men wearing chicken helmets and knee-length black tunics all standing with their backs to it.
The God-Empress slowed from her manic hopping to a slow, measured walk with an erratic beat: step-slide, step, step, slide-step, over and over again, and after a few missteps, I was able to follow her. It took several minutes for us to reach the dais this way, which gave me plenty of time to speculate on what would happen when we got there.
When we were within fifteen feet of it, I was able to look more closely at the men and realized they were wearing full armor under their poorly-fitting black tunics, which were thin linen stretched taut over the metal plates at their shoulders and chests. All of them were focused straight ahead, not on us, which was probably safer for them and for me; I was just as happy not to be noticed by them.
The God-Empress brought me up the three steps to the top of the dais and gently pushed me one way and then the other until I stood exactly where she wanted me, which was to my eyes a random spot left of center. She took my hand again and stood next to me, and we waited. My feet became sore, but I was afraid to shift my weight, because my mad companion was motionless, but poised as if listening for something.
“Don’t worry, he won’t forget,” she whispered, and I was trying to decide whether I should ask her for clarification when a concealed door in the dove-gray walls opened, and more soldiers in black tunics came through single-file and marched toward the dais. Three men dressed in the costumes I’d seen courtiers wear when they attended the God-Empress in her throne room, but entirely in black, walked in the center of the line. I didn’t recognize two of them, but the man in the middle was Perce Aselfos.
He has a handsome face, with a strong nose and deep-set brown eyes, but his appearance was marred by the beginnings of a large bruise on his right cheekbone and a split lower lip. He looked furious. The other two men watched him warily, exactly as if they expected him to bolt, or hit one or both of them.
“Oh, Perce, you look wonderful,” the God-Empress said in a breathless, happy voice. “Come up here and stand next to Sesskia.”
Aselfos glowered, but came up the steps and stood where the God-Empress pointed. The God-Empress took my hand, then Aselfos’s hand, and to my surprise put them together. I clasped his hand automatically. It was dry, and limp. The God-Empress beamed, and took a few steps back. “What a perfect day!” she said. “Don’t you think it’s a perfect day, Sesskia? I’m so pleased for you both.”
I realized what she had in mind, and jerked my hand away, or tried to; Aselfos’s grip became suddenly firm, and he gave me a warning look. “You want us to be married?” I said.
I might have sounded the tiniest bit shrill, because the God-Empress’s eyes narrowed, and she said, “No, Sesskia, you want to be married. I only agreed to witness your marriage vows. You’re not having second thoughts, are you? Because I truly am so happy for you, and I would hate for this perfect day to be ruined.”
I glanced at Aselfos again, and he shook his head, almost imperceptibly. My hand was starting to sweat. “I don’t—” I began, then words deserted me.
“Marriage is a sacred act, Sesskia,” the God-Empress said, waggling a perfect finger with a rose-enameled nail in front of my eyes. “You don’t want to spurn God’s blessing, do you?”
“I—” A delaying possibility suggested itself. “I am an otherworlder, Renatha, and I know nothing of your marriage customs. Would you explain them to me? Because I think making those vows without understanding them would be disrespectful to God.”
Aselfos looked at me as if I were as mad as the God-Empress. “Of course, Sesskia, I should have realized!” the God-Empress said. “It’s very simple. You and your beloved come before God—actually, most people come before a priest, but naturally I’m happy to perform the service for you, because you are God’s choice—and declare your names, so God knows who stands before Her.
“Then each of you announces your intent to marry, and God asks you to name the man or woman of your choosing. And of course you say each other’s names, because it would be silly to want to marry someone who didn’t want you, yes?
“Then God asks some questions to be sure you understand how serious it is and tells you what the law settles on you as a married couple. And then you promise loyalty and love to each other, though you’re free to say it however you like. And then you’re married! Isn’t that beautiful?”
It would be if Cederic were here, I thought. I was starting to panic. Obviously Aselfos had no interest in marrying me, and this was all some sick fantasy the God-Empress had dreamed up to “reward” one or both of us. I had no idea how binding this ceremony was, if neither of us meant it—and what happened if I swore marriage vows to one person when I was already married to someone else?
“You should begin,” the God-Empress said, frowning, “or God will believe you have brought her here frivolously.”
Aselfos dropped my hand and took two steps away. “I will not,” he began, and one of the soldiers stepped up behind him and put one of those very sharp knives against his throat. He stopped speaking. The God-Empress screamed, “You will do as God says or your blood will water this floor!”
“Don’t worry, Renatha, um, Perce and I want to be married,” I said, reaching out to take Aselfos’s hand. In the instant before I clasped it, the beginnings of an idea struck me. Just as our fingertips brushed, I worked the walk-through-walls pouvra and let my hand slip through his.
It felt awful. I could feel the blood flowing through his hand, felt bone grate on bone even though we were both insubstantial, and Aselfos cried out and jerked his hand up, making the soldier with the knife take half a step back. A thin line of blood beaded up along Aselfos’s neck. “Our vows are rejected!” I screamed. “God will not allow me to take his hand!”
The God-Empress stared at my hand, then grabbed it and pinched the skin between my thumb and forefinger, hard, making me cry out. “I have done no such thing,” she said. “Your love is meant to be. I would never reject your vows.”
“It must have been an accident,” I said. “We should try again. Renatha, please ask that man to release my love. There should be no violence on such a…a sacred day.”
The God-Empress nodded, the soldier moved back, and Aselfos raised his hand to wipe the blood away. He was breathing a little too heavily and looked as if he were even more afraid of me than of the God-Empress.
I held out my hand to him, and he reached out to take it, and I did the pouvra again. It was still awful, though at least this time I was ready for it. Aselfos looked as if he were going to be sick. “Renatha, why is this happening?” I exclaimed, making a big show of examining my hand. “It surely means we are not meant to be married!”
“But I have decreed it!” the God-Empress wailed. She pushed me aside, ran down the dais, and snatched a longsword from one of the soldiers, who made as if to stop her before coming to his senses. The God-Empress raised the sword and swung hard at the dais; it made a strange sound somewhere between a clang and a thunk. “I am God and I will not be thwarted!” she screamed.
I felt lightheaded, like I was spinning, or maybe that was the room turning around me, as if the God-Empress’s madness were infectious and I had caught the disease. “But it is this marriage that would thwart your will, Renatha!” I shouted. “Our desire to be married is wrong!”
The God-Empress turned on me and dropped the sword, which landed with a clunk. “It is,” she agreed, her voice low and vicious now, her eyes narrowed. “Why would you waste my time like this, Sesskia?”
Now I was terrified. There were at least twenty soldiers, and I was certain I couldn’t keep all of them at bay with fire, and concealing myself and running was a very short-term solution. “I
…made a mistake,” I said. “God is forgiving of mistakes.”
“God dislikes waste,” the God-Empress said, “but she is understanding of human frailty. And you are my sister, Sesskia.” She turned toward Aselfos. “But he…he is nothing to me. Destroy him.”
Aselfos had recovered from the shock of feeling my incorporeal hand pass through his, but now he went ashen. “I can’t,” I began, and the God-Empress said, “You will do as God commands, Sesskia, or I will be forced to watch these men kill you. God must be obeyed.”
Aselfos’s eyes met mine. He was pleading with me. I closed my eyes, willed him to hold still, and said, “God’s command, then,” and wreathed Aselfos in fire. He screamed, and I put the fire out before he could truly panic and flee.
“Renatha!” I shouted. “How dare you use your sister that way!”
The God-Empress took a step back. “What?” she said.
I drew myself to my full height and glared at her. “You dare command me to do something God has forbidden? This man is protected by God. Is this some sort of test?”
I had her thoroughly confused now. The God-Empress looked at Aselfos, who stood in the same place, shuddering, then at me. “But I—” she began.
I cut her off. “I only have power because God gives it to me,” I said. “My magic has no power to harm that which God has protected. God must not be mocked. You are trying to trick me into betraying God.”
“No,” the God-Empress said, sounding once again like a child, but afraid rather than cheerful.
“I understand now,” I said. “It was a test, wasn’t it? A test of my loyalty? Did I pass?”
Confusion cleared from the God-Empress’s face. “Oh, Sesskia, it was a test!” she said, and embraced me. “You are truly God’s choice.” She released me, went to Aselfos, and embraced him as well. “And you have been marked by God’s power,” she said, fingering the charred neck of his formal tunic. “I am sorry about the marriage. I know Sesskia is your heart’s desire.”
“My God, I will turn my heart elsewhere,” Aselfos said, his voice barely trembling, his eyes fixed on me. When the God-Empress turned away, he nodded to me, slowly, as if acknowledging a debt.
“Oh, Sesskia, I do love you more than my other sisters. They never visit me,” the God-Empress said, hooking her arm through mine once more. “We will eat together, and then you will return to Denril Vorantor and tell him God smiles on his work. I’m sure he’ll find ways to make use of you.”
“I think you’re right, Renatha,” I said, but my heart continued to beat like a rabbit’s until we were seated in one of the formal dining rooms at opposite ends of the table, too far apart to converse, and I could concentrate on chewing and swallowing tasteless food. It probably was very good, but I was too keyed up to appreciate it.
I matched her madness for madness, and now I wonder if I’ve finally exhausted my stores of luck. The only good thing that’s come of this morning is that I saved Aselfos’s life, and he knows it. But I have no idea how that might benefit me. Maybe if Aselfos really is planning to kill all the mages, he’ll spare my life. Or maybe he’ll think twice before attacking the mages, if he thinks my magic is representative of what they can do. I don’t know. I’m still jittery.
The God-Empress was back to being her usual cold, distant self by the time the meal was over, and dismissed me without any friendliness. She also didn’t suggest I return to change into my own clothes. When I said, “I think you should have someone put this away for me,” attempting to remove the diamond necklace, she said, with some anger, “Mother always liked you better,” and walked away.
I don’t know what to make of that. Either she’s going to forget I have it, or she’s going to send soldiers to retrieve it from me some day when I’ve forgotten I have it. So I walked back to the mages’ wing, holding my head high and pretending no one was staring at me. That was hard, because everyone was staring.
I got as far as my own room before I realized it was impossible for me to get out of the dress without help. Everyone had already finished their lunch, so I had to go into the circle chamber dressed like the God-Empress’s life-sized doll and submit to the exclamations of the women and the teasing of the men. Cederic went totally impassive when he saw me, and Vorantor said something about the God-Empress’s favor; I think he was jealous, because I’m sure the God-Empress has never given him a fortune in diamonds.
Sovrin came back to my room with me to help me change. “I was watching Sai Aleynten,” she said with a grin, “and he had a look in his eye that nearly made me melt, and you know he’s not my type.”
“I couldn’t look at him and keep my composure,” I said, and at that point I realized I’d left some of my favorite clothes back in the God-Empress’s dressing room. I shook my hair out and put the silver combs on the dressing table next to the necklace. They’re beautiful, and I wish I had some reason to wear them more often. Then I remember who gave them to me, and I wish I dared throw them away.
“So why are you dressed up?” Sovrin asked.
“I…we can talk about it later, so I don’t have to repeat the story for Audryn,” I said. That was only partly my reason. I was starting to feel panicky about how close I’d come to being married to the wrong man, and I needed time to calm down.
“Oh, if you have to be sensible,” Sovrin said, pretending to pout, and we walked back to the circle chamber, where we both went back to work as if nothing had happened. Cederic treated me as he always did, with respectful indifference, and we made no more progress than before, partly because I simply could not stay focused. When I wasn’t remembering the God-Empress’s mad, confused expression when I challenged her, I was seeing Aselfos’s eyes when the fire surrounded him. Th’an couldn’t keep my attention.
Sovrin and Audryn came with me to my room right after dinner to hear my story. I felt guilty about telling them before telling Cederic, but I didn’t even make eye contact with him at dinner before he and Vorantor went back to their research, and by that time I really needed to talk. We sat on the red bearskin rug, Sovrin wearing the necklace, Audryn with her hair pinned up with the combs, and they were perfectly silent as I told the story. When I was finished, Audryn said, “You are brilliant.”
“I think I’m lucky,” I said.
“That too,” Sovrin said. “Saying marriage vows to one man when you’re already married to another…even if neither of you mean it…”
“I was afraid of that,” I said. “But I couldn’t exactly tell the God-Empress the truth.”
“At least you got something nice out of it,” Sovrin said, running her fingers across the rows of diamonds. “And the dress is beautiful. You looked stunning.”
“I doubt I’ll get to wear it again,” I said.
Audryn and Sovrin exchanged meaningful glances. “I think Sai Aleynten will figure something out,” Sovrin said with a wink.
That’s probably true. I almost asked them to help me put it back on, so I’d be wearing it when Cederic comes to bed, but as I wrote, I don’t know how late that will be, so it will have to wait for another time.
It’s nearly midnight now. Still no Cederic. I’m going to sleep now, and hope the God-Empress doesn’t decide she needs her “sister’s” company again anytime soon.
Chapter Twenty-One
5 Coloine
Terrael has almost worked out all the details about the kathana that separated the worlds, though he told Audryn he had to guess at about a tenth of the th’an, since Veris and Barklan weren’t mages and assumed there would be people around after the “success” to write it all down more fully. Or maybe some of those mages did keep records, and we just don’t know about them.
Even though Terrael is uncertain, Vorantor’s plan is to reconstruct the kathana, then invert it to describe the world as it used to be. I think of it as “reminding” the worlds how they’re supposed to be united, something I won’t tell Terrael in case he calls me a savage again. He ought to thank me for being so considerate of him, n
ot forcing me to soak his head. It’s so undignified.
We’re having no success blending the two worlds’ magics, and I’m starting to wonder if Vorantor is more clever than we thought, setting Cederic to work on research that’s a dead end. Cederic behaves as if our work is important, and I know he’s determined not to waste his time again, so I have to believe he knows what he’s doing. He was collaborating with Vorantor again today, and then after dinner, and if he comes to bed before I fall asleep, I’ll ask him whether Vorantor is actually accepting his input. Because I think if Vorantor can get away with it, he won’t.
6 Coloine
I still have no idea what’s going on between Cederic and Vorantor. Cederic’s climbing into bed woke me briefly, very late last night, but he was up and dressing himself when I woke and we barely had time for a kiss before he was gone again.
It’s frustrating, because I gave up exploring last night so we could talk, but I can’t blame him for being preoccupied with the kathana. The mages have stopped trying to predict how long it’s going to be until it all happens, because their kathanas give conflicting predictions, including some that say the convergence has already happened, which we know isn’t true.
Vorantor and several mages, none of them from the Darssan, started reconstructing the first kathana today. Cederic didn’t volunteer to help and told us to go on as we have been. Everyone was tense, and there were two or three discussions that nearly turned into arguments that Cederic had to break up, since Vorantor was ignoring everything except the kathana. The only good news is Alessa and Sovrin had an interesting idea for teaching me th’an that might work. No idea if it will work in time.
7 Coloine
Vorantor came into the circle chamber this morning looking far more smug than usual. No idea why, because he enlisted Cederic’s help on the kathana, to confirm Terrael’s guesses about the missing th’an. Cederic acted as if this were nothing out of the ordinary, but I’m suspicious. I hate that I have nothing concrete to attach my suspicions to.
The Summoned Mage (Convergence Book 1) Page 27