by James Stone
No dress had been hung for her that morning; there were no fresh bath salts, nor anything to break her fast. Anclyn had scarcely said a word since she’d awoken either, but in hindsight, Magmaya might have just not been listening. Had she become so obsessed with each of Kurulian’s whispers that she couldn’t even listen to anyone else? Had he once told her he had been enslaved? Or had that been a dream? After everything she’d admitted, she thought they could’ve understood one another—but she had been wrong before.
Magmaya knew the way; a part of her spirit was embedded in the hum of the forest. But now, it appeared to twist impossibly like some wicked geometry had taken hold, and she swore she was walking in circles.
She was growing suspicious, but it wasn’t until she arrived at the pillars beneath which Fabius and herself had dined that her suspicions were confirmed.
‘My lady,’ a figure bundled entirely in eggshell robes addressed her from where they had sat, the table bare, the feast finished. ‘My Legatus wishes to see you.’
Legatus? she asked herself—would Kurulian be seeing her again? But if so, where was Fabius?
The servant led her up a series of steps and under pink-flowered arches where the morning sun struck her eyes with a malice. They didn’t share a word until they reached the top and by then, she was out of breath.
Basking in the light from above there was a small hall, arched like a battlement jutting from the Manse’s summit. Sunflowers raped at the clear windows, and weeds ate away at the broken coving fell apart before her very eyes.
‘This way,’ the servant commanded, and Magmaya followed, the shadow of the hall blotting out the harsh light from above and sheathing her world in shadow. She followed her through the open archway. The stench of raw fish assaulted her immediately, and then the heat of blazing candles. She looked around, finding much of the wall had been worn away to the bare brick, and what remained was choked with fractured paintings and antlers of long-dead bucks. Like the one that kicked me in the gut, Magmaya recalled.
The room was empty, save for her, the servant, and some strange figure hunched over a mahogany desk at the hall’s end.
‘Legatus Akanah,’ the woman spoke, and there was movement from the desk. The hunched figure shooed her away and beckoned Magmaya forward, so she ambled over. The wood creaked as she did for what felt like hours of walking before she finally reached his foot.
Akanah didn’t look up, though, quill in hand as he scratched away at a piece of weathered parchment. Among his cluster of papers was slightly nibbled on bread, vermillion prawns, a ribbed bottle (full) and a choir of candles singing praise before him. He wasn’t as beautiful as either Fabius or Kurulian, but something about his greased-back hair and coy smile gave her the impression he’d have his way with anyone.
‘Do sit,’ he said curtly, and Magmaya did as he said, searching for some weakness in his façade.
She hadn’t seen him since his abrupt arrival at Spider’s inn, but he looked different now, like each time she’d remembered him before had made him a little more false. ‘I must admit, I was expecting more people.’ She looked around.
‘No.’ He ignored her gaze, still. ‘This hall is mine alone until council.’
So, the whispers had been right, she realised. But she’d been summoned earlier.
‘I was under the impression this was the Lord Commander’s garden,’ Magmaya said.
‘His garden, my hall,’ he muttered.
‘Oh.’
‘Where are my manners?’ He looked up, at last, asking the question Magmaya had been all along. ‘Would you like a drink?’
‘No,’ she said, though her hands were shaking. She hadn’t felt so thirsty in a while, but she was afraid to take a gift from this newcomer.
‘Shame.’ He poured himself a glass. ‘While the rest of the world is either drunk on wine or pride, I have a chance to think.’ He caught her staring. ‘It’s water, I’m afraid,’ Akanah said as he took a sip.
A deep silence broke out, and his chest groaned.
‘You were the one watching me, then?’ She sat forward after a while. ‘Watching my family?’
‘A name on paper, as was your father.’ He shrugged, going back to his writing. ‘Most girls like to believe angels are watching over them in one way or another, yet all seem surprised when they meet them. Strange, eh?’
‘Angels,’ Magmaya scoffed. ‘They say it’s an insult to call the Divinicus that, but you people seem to like it really.’ She took a deep breath. ‘So, you summoned me?’
‘You asked for Fabius, and I was recommended you.’
‘I’m sure he was happy to hear from me,’ she remarked.
‘As happy as you might imagine. So, what did you want to ask him that you’re failing to ask of me, then?’
Magmaya thought for a moment and looked to the windows where the sunflowers ate away. She’d rehearsed a thousand times telling Fabius, but not this imposter. He was just as arrogant as the others, though, no matter how much wit he carried with him. Perhaps she could approach him with the same tone she did Fabius and the confidence she did Kurulian. But the first had cast her out, and the second had wished her goodbye.
‘I want to bargain,’ she said at last.
‘Bargain?’
‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘I have heard of some trouble in the Reaches, and I thought I could offer you my own… suggestion.’
‘The Reaches are Legatus Rael’s territory,’ he spat. ‘You are aware, girl? You should be telling her, not Fabius. Nor me.’
‘I was only offered you.’ She shook her head. ‘Look, I have studied your lands, and I think I can see what others have missed.’
‘Insulting,’ he remarked. ‘Eight months we have tolled upon this matter and nothing. So, what would a foreign girl have to show for herself that we cannot?’
‘If you cared to listen, you might know,’ Magmaya answered.
Akanah sat back in his seat and folded his hands into his lap. She studied the wrinkles around his dull, green eyes, older than him and sullen beneath skin that seemed to stretch unnaturally over his skull.
‘What could you possibly want from all of this?’ he asked at once. ‘The Lord Commander said you wanted to become one of us, but you defy us at every opportunity.’
‘I want you to listen, that’s all.’ Her eyes were wide. ‘Perhaps then, you can do your job as an angel and weigh up my soul. But just listen first.’
‘I shall listen the moment you say something of substance,’ he remarked. ‘I have sat at this desk for far too long now, seemingly speaking to no one, and my back is starting to ache. So, I urge you to get on with it, girl.’
‘Thank you.’ She nodded but felt her stomach tighten all the same. ‘I think you’ve been betrayed.’
‘Oh?’ Akanah asked. ‘How so?’
‘The only way an endless supply of troops could travel across the mountains to defend the blockade so quickly is by not having to cross the mountains at all,’ she said. ‘The troops came from the peaks themselves.’ She looked away and wondered, not quite sure where she was summoning the words. ‘Cyrel is the problem.’
Akanah shook his head. ‘Cyrel is a province of labour and trade with the capital; they’ve even helped us with the Reaches. They’re no military afoot.’
‘Maybe not,’ she said. ‘But maybe Cyrel are positioning the Reaches’ troops atop their mountains rather than sending their own.’
Akanah, to her surprise, nodded and pushed himself into his chair. She could almost feel the leather burning against his back. He lifted his ranks of fingers to find his platter and scraped at the rows of pink shrimp which were the furthest things from alive. He chose one and snapped the dead thing between his nails, sinews spilling out onto his lap.
‘Have you heard of Belliousa, Magmaya?’
‘You have juice on your chin.’ She ignored him.
He wiped it clean with gritted teeth. ‘An island ran by a church of
f the coast,’ he explained. ‘It’s long been an allied state of Inamorata, but some time ago, they got themselves a new leader and have since become a threat to us.’
‘A threat?’ Magmaya asked. ‘How?’
‘Unlike Cyrel, Belliousa is militarised,’ Akanah answered. ‘Deih of the Water, their matriarch and supposed goddess, has thousands of crazed fanatics at hand to fight for her every gospel. She could turn on us at any moment.’
‘Why would she?’
‘She made herself an enemy of the Lord Commander’s when we tried to make peace with her, and she’s only been threatening us ever since. Now that the Reaches are engulfed in civil war, the last thing I want are the Free Islands and an entire religion rallied against us.’
‘Have you forgotten the armour you wear?’ Magmaya scoffed. ‘You are religion.’
‘So was the Golden Woman, and then she died.’ He frowned. ‘Since then, the world has been desperately trying to make sense of it all. I know I have. People have turned to us.’
‘So, what about her?’ she asked. ‘You angels are awfully secretive.’
‘It doesn’t matter. She’s dead now, along with her disciples. Belliousa doesn’t follow her anyway, nor us—they follow far older gods.’
‘What about them, then?’ Magmaya asked. ‘Are you going to wipe these zealots from their island?’
‘They’re men crafted the same as you, and they’ll die just as quickly.’ He bit down on another prawn. ‘But I don’t want to cull an entire country. Like I said, they have allies in the Free Islands and Vavaria. They must be turned to our cause.’
‘One look of the Divinicus was enough to sway me,’ she admitted.
‘One look will not be enough to sway a woman who thinks herself a goddess.’ Akanah grit his teeth. ‘She is arrogant, and some say she works with black magic.’
‘So what?’
‘So, Miss Vorr, we have come to the conclusion that you will speak with her.’
Magmaya’s heart leapt into her throat, and she thought she was going to fall from her chair. ‘You want me to go to Belliousa?’
‘When Deih first took power, Kurulian led a force to Belliousa to discuss peace terms,’ Akanah explained, ‘but he was the only one she would spare a word with; not his Small Court, nor any of the other Divinicus. And do you know why?’
‘Why?’ she asked dryly, though she didn’t care to hear his answer. The thought of having to go somewhere else foreign was driving her into something of a madness.
‘Because he wasn’t one of us,’ he replied. ‘Deih of the Water wouldn’t speak with any of the angels, only foreigners.’
‘But he is an angel.’
‘He was scarcely one then. Unfortunately for us, Kurulian wasn’t as inclined to talk as she was.’
‘And what does that have to do with me?’
‘You tried to prove something to me with your spiel about Cyrel,’ he said. ‘You held a small city. And most importantly, you’re a foreigner. You don’t know our customs. I’d wager if you’d talk to their demi-goddess, she’d talk back.’
‘And she would acknowledge me because I’m not one of you?’ Magmaya frowned.
‘Because you’re not one of us.’ Akanah nodded.
And never will be, she thought. ‘So, what about me then? Is this the reason I’m meeting with you?’
‘You’re meeting with me because of a recommendation.’ He thought for a moment. ‘The recommendation was if you sold your story to me, I’d suggest we’d take you to Belliousa.’
‘I sold you my story?’ She was almost excited at the prospect.
‘Not particularly,’ he admitted, ‘but we’re running out of options.’
She sighed. ‘And after that?’
‘Once you have spoken with Deih, and Belliousa is rallied in our image, you shall be free.’
‘Free?’ Magmaya narrowed her eyes. ‘Free from what?’
‘Free to take whatever the Lord Commander offers you. If all goes well, he’ll give you a cottage in the mountains or something of the like,’ he answered.
A cottage in the mountains? That was more than she’d ever expected. Perhaps then, she could forget everything—forget the cold, forget her father and forget the angels.
‘I shall pass your… theory to Rael,’ he continued. ‘Until then, you bathe, you coat yourself with perfume, and you practice speaking to the High Priestess until we leave for Belliousa. A week’s time,’ Akanah concluded.
‘But—’ she stammered. ‘What if I—?’
‘Speak well, and you can expect a hefty reward.’ He cocked his head. ‘Speak out against us, and you’ll find yourself at the mercy of Highport, I suppose.’
‘And I have no choice?’
Akanah leaned in on her, exposing every pore of his skin to the sunbeams of the sullen windows. She felt his breath on her forehead as he spoke and sunk down. ‘My dear, between your stowaway and your insult upon the Lord Commander, I fear there is no choice for you. In fact, I’m surprised Fabius has been so merciful.’
Magmaya could only nod and watch as Akanah sat back with a smile like he had never threatened her. He plucked at the bread (before deciding he was full) and leapt up.
‘What about Anclyn?’ Magmaya looked up to him, and her cheeks flushed with colour.
‘Anclyn?’
‘My handmaiden.’
‘What does your handmaiden matter?’ He grimaced.
‘I want her to come to Belliousa as well,’ Magmaya said.
‘No,’ he snarled. ‘The Lord Commander’s handmaidens hail from the Water in the Summerlands—the same as the High Priestess. Having one of them there would compromise our efforts.’
‘Then I shall sit and wait until you agree,’ she stammered.
Akanah roared with laughter. ‘I’m very patient, dear girl.’
‘Then the pair of us shall wait here forever.’ She shrugged. ‘But a girl must not always look a girl; there are powders and perfumes as you say. Hells, I might be my handmaiden now. Perhaps you just haven’t recognised me yet. I wager Deih wouldn’t either.’
‘Then you would be the handmaiden with the quickest wit I’ve ever come across,’ he remarked. ‘For someone so patient, you seem awfully impatient to find an answer.’
Magmaya looked away, silent.
‘Have the girl plaster herself with greasepaint, and speak with me again,’ he replied, ignoring her. ‘How much of a disguise could a girl with half a wit make?’
‘We do fairly well,’ Magmaya scoffed and stood to face him. ‘I do suppose I’ll be seeing you again soon.’
‘Inevitably.’ His voice was cold. ‘See yourself out.’
Her chambers were quieter when she reached her bedding that night. But then again, she’d spent the past hours chasing aloof, screaming birds about the gardens with big yellow beaks that bled for their young. Everything was quiet compared to them.
She longed for an evening where she could be alone with her thoughts, but Anclyn was always there, quiet and nose-twitching since she had broken the news. Perhaps it was selfish to bring her, but she couldn’t abandon the only friend she had. And what about Akanah? She hadn’t heard from him nor from the other Divinicus since the morning, and she was beginning to wonder if the whole thing had been a ruse.
Before she’d retreated to her chambers, Magmaya had sought solace in the shade of an old tree outside the Manse, and she’d been half-tempted to pray to it. But instead, she had plucked at the grass tufts and wrestled them between her knuckles, all while the river flowed drearily around her with a wrinkled smile. She had imagined seeing for miles from where she had sat, but the lumbering hunk of the city blocked most of the view outward. She had even grown so bored, she had contemplated going to find Akanah in that hall of his, but she decided against it. Although in the end, he had offered her kindness, she couldn’t be so sure he would again.
A gentle hum and soft breathing began from Anclyn’s chambe
rs and cut Magmaya out of her dream. And when she stepped out to make her toilet, she felt as if she were gliding, but never far from the alabaster floors. Nameless gods, let me soar, she prayed, let me fly away, dammit.
When she returned to bed, she found it as equally difficult to sleep as she had on the toilet. Sweat was pouring down her back, and her skin was stinging with the moon’s kiss, all while Anclyn’s heavy breathing seemed to incessant on keeping her awake. Does anyone manage to sleep in the Water? she asked herself.
In time, her mind turned to Deih, the High Priestess—how could a foreign woman like her rise to such a position? If Deih became so powerful, why couldn’t she?
But Magmaya wasn’t a girl of the Summerlands or even Inamorata. She was a pawn from an icy wasteland, and now she was a pawn of angels.
She threw her head down on her pillow, and tiredness washed over her like a setting sun, a hundred heartaches across her body. The night before she’d been searching maps for a place that didn’t seem to exist, yet now she wanted anything but. She writhed and wriggled amid the heavy heat of the night and the blankets—until her neck grazed against something sharp.
She sat up, sighed and looked to the pillow. And then to the letter.
My chancellor,
It read,
You were right.
Xx
Eighteen
Magmaya found herself wandering about Fabius’ gardens again the night before she was made to leave. Something about it reminded of her of the forest around her home; it was where she’d ran to when she was twelve and woke up bleeding for the first time. She hadn’t understood it then; all she had been taught was when the blood began, she would be made good for her man. Magmaya had been so afraid, but she had been a different girl then.
She bled again today, but there was no fear left in her. Her shoulders had stiffened, and her stomach had swelled, but she just bit down on her lip and carried on through the dusk.
‘I’ve never done anything quite like this, my lady,’ she heard a voice call and turned to Anclyn beside her. ‘The Lord Commander, he—’