Dreaming Awake
Page 26
Anaka knew, somehow, that all she'd been through had been for this moment, this life, each singularly terrible event a catalyst for the next, building all to now. Ronan had marched to Darvaza, but she no longer worried. His purpose was to act as a messenger only, corresponding to Stellan alone: did Eide's army cooperate? Was Darian really on the other side of the pass? Would he allow Elixa to use her powers? And so on. He would be fine. He was Hakkon's son after all.
"That does not mean she should have a frilly princess name," Anaka debated. "How about Aero?"
"Aero?" he chuckled. "What kind of name is that?"
"It's Wakati." And don't you dare poke fun at my ancestry.
"It's terrible. No." Stellan sighed theatrically and rose from his chair, removed his robe and tossed it carelessly to the floor for the maid to pick up. "I have to dress for this horrid meeting. Are you certain you can't come with me, Annie? I so despise these things." Anaka rolled to sitting, her stomach cramping and waves of nausea following with every movement. Shouldn't I be past this damned nausea by now?
"There's no way I'm leaving this couch. I feel horrible."
"Fine, fine," he said, voice echoing from their bedroom as he dressed. "But you're not allowed to have our daughter yet, not while she's still nameless!" Stellan emerged from the bedroom, impeccable in a black suit and kissed her on the forehead.
"Should be another month yet, but these things are never certain."
"Well, whatever the case we're not naming her Aero."
"Or Emeriya, or Sylvianna, or Lynalia or any other of your ridiculous, frilly names."
"We'll see," he said with a mischievous grin. "I'll fill you in when I get back." Anaka nodded and he left, the carved door closing silently behind him. Why they needed a war council when their army hadn't even reached Darvaza yet Anaka didn't know, but it seemed the council members demanded to discuss every little detail these days. Since Grayna's death they were all jumpy, expecting the army to burst in any moment and take over, though now that they'd been deployed they should be focusing on other matters. Such as the fate of their empire against an unknown enemy from across the sea.
One day they were at war with Alaric, the next allies with him at war with his father. He had made good on his promise; hers and Ronan's papers arriving two days after Anaka's wedding. She'd burned hers in Hakkon's hearth, but let Ronan keep his, just in case. Now that she knew he scorned any future as an assassin, she didn't know what to do with him or what he wanted, other than the impossible. How could a Yerazi with a fearless killer as his father turn out so gentle? Perhaps he didn't belong in this harsh land at all. Once he returned from Darvaza, she would use the money she'd saved for their new life and give him one instead. He could be a merchant or a sea captain or whatever he wanted. With the Ilahi for her husband, she would never want for anything; if they won the war that is.
With a practiced hand, Anaka mixed up a tonic to settle her stomach, gazing out the window at the cold, gray morning. Now that the danger had passed, mostly, she could not wait to meet her daughter. Would she look like her or Stellan? Her magic would be strong, that much she knew. It was already and she hadn't even been born yet. Just possessing that kind of power would make her a target for enemies.
Anaka would teach her the art of the assassin and Stellan the art of magic. She would be fearsome, a warrior queen not to be trifled with. The Handmaiden sipped the frothy, tasteless liquid until none remained, her nausea slowly easing. Setting down the empty glass, she took a fur trimmed coat from the closet and slipped out of her quarters. Fresh air was what she needed now, no matter how cold and misty the weather.
Anaka went down the hall and rounded the corner, escaping out onto a balcony, the glass door clicking shut behind her. That's what their rooms were missing, a balcony. How could Stellan have forgotten to include one? Leaning against the cold, wet stone, she gratefully inhaled the chill air, better already. From here she had a view of the palace road, a downward slope wide and packed with bustling people swarming like ants around gigantic statues of the Ilahi, at least four times the height of a man. For miles she could see the gray tiled roofs of the nobility close to the palace, the thatched roofs of the lesser citizens further out.
Originally the capitol had been contained to the valley, but over the centuries of the empire's growth it had expanded, overtaking the hills and fields beyond, all the way to the edges of the Waste. Six-hundred-years ago, the Waste had been Yerazi farmland until Arzu had burned it, unprovoked. Tessa Elspeth, the queen at that time, had imagined Arzu to dust, and then took Tibre by force to meet the demands for food. Anaka had never traveled to the Waste, the edge of the world as the soldiers called it, and had little desire to.
The Handmaiden shivered as the gray fog descended further onto the city, tiny beads of moisture gathering on her coat sleeves. The glass doors opened silently as she slipped back into the relative warmth of the chill palace, already planning a hot fire and cup of gras. She rounded the corner and stopped short, shrinking back immediately behind the wall. Five men in full armor were marching purposefully down the corridor, having missed spotting her by mere seconds. They stomped past the portraits of the queens and directly to her rooms. Soldiers should not be here, not in armor, not coming to her rooms.
The council meeting! Of course it had all been a ruse. Stellan had been taken and she should have been also. The first soldier burst through the doors of their suite, the others following with weapons held high.
Anaka turned and ran as fast as she could in her tired and oversized waddling body. She had but minutes as they searched her rooms, minutes to escape the palace. Racing down the steps two at the time all the way to the bottom floor, the Handmaiden nearly barreled right into two guards standing stiffly at the bottom.
"My lady! Are you alright?" One of them asked, coming toward her.
"I'm fine, fine, just in a hurry, thank you!" she said, racing off again before he could respond. Of course the whole palace would not know they were in the midst of a coup; Elixa would have kept it quiet and contained, at least until it was done. Elixa, how dare she! First she betrays her own empire to the enemy and now her own father. She would have never guessed Elixa had this in her. They had joined with Alaric and were on the brink of an epic war, what could she gain from this now?
Anaka rushed out the front doors and down the Palace Road, mingling effortlessly with the mobs of huddled citizens, dressed in black and hunched over against the mist, hurrying along with their own business. She slowed her pace to match the crowd, glancing over her shoulder every few steps. No guards emerged screaming from the palace gates, no men in armor chased her with swords.
She took a calming breath and another; where to go? Ronan had marched to Darvaza and Anaka had no other friends and no family. Who would be sympathetic to the pregnant Handmaiden in the midst of an uprising, under a growing tide of atheism and doubt? Twisting through the wet, cobbled streets it came to her – the temple. The golden doors burst open, candles flickering in the rush of cool air. Two priestesses looked up from worn scrolls, eyes painted in violet and kohl, dressed in heavy gold and jewels.
"We apologize but the temple is temporarily closed– " one of them said, stepping forward.
"I am Anaka Elspeth, wife of the Ilahi, and I demand to speak with the head priestess. At once!" she snapped, hoping her voice swelled with confidence she didn't feel. The head priestess, an old woman who failed in her valiant attempts to cover her wrinkles with heavy makeup, could not stop gasping in terror as Anaka relayed her story.
"How dare she turn against the Ilahi, who gave her magic and life, who raised her to queen!" The old woman ranted, slamming the table with her fist repeatedly before flipping the whole thing upside down in rage. And she'd seemed so sweet and mild-mannered when she'd married them.
"You must hide me," Anaka begged, hating to ask, hating the pitiful sound of her own voice. Anaka Vilente never begged for anything. She made other people beg – for their lives, for her merc
y, and neither request had she ever granted. But she could barely run, much less fight. She was Anaka Elspeth now and had her daughter and her husband to think about. Stellan would be trapped, locked up...where? And what could she possibly do about it?
"They will sack the temples next," Anaka said. "I cannot stay here. They will kill me." Would they? Would Elixa dare? She would have never believed it before but now...but apparently she'd lost the queen's favor when she'd gained Stellan's.
"Of course, you will stay with my sister. She has a house on the edge of the valley. We will leave at nightfall. Until then, hide in the cellar." The priestess led The Handmaiden down a rickety ladder under a trap door and then closed her in the darkness. What now? With Grayna gone and the army in Darvaza, who had helped the queen? She had planned ahead; she'd sent almost all of Anaka's assassins to Kinjia on some mission or another...to be honest she hadn't even paid attention to what it was they were supposed to be accomplishing.
The poor little queen, confined and chasing madness, despite her power, too cowardly and weak to kill for her empire, who would have suspected? Not Anaka, not Stellan, probably not the council either. What did you do to make your own daughter despise you so much, Stellan? And how would they get out of this? She could free him with a dream, but then he'd know she'd been using magic. Besides, she had no clue where Elixa was keeping him.
The dungeons? Not nearly secure enough. Which was the most secure room in the palace? Of course...four levels burrowed underground, set in the center of a winding labyrinth behind stone doors nearly a foot thick and sealed with magic. With the Sphere, that's where he'd be, locked underground, hidden behind guards and magic so strong Anaka would be a fool to try and save him.
Chapter 26
I
Elena Ariano, sister to the head priestess, was a kindly old woman with gray hair and an even temper. She had welcomed Anaka into her two room house with open arms and a hot cup of gras. She sunk gratefully into the fluffy sofa while Elena bustled around the tiny kitchen, whipping up something for the Handmaiden to eat. Anaka had never resided in rooms with a kitchen – the servants of the palace had brought her everything she'd asked for. She wouldn't even begin to know what to do in one and would probably burn her hands off. The leader of the assassin's guild, maimed by a stove. Wouldn't that be a story. Anaka traced the outline of her dagger under her sleeve for the hundredth time, just to make sure it was there.
"Here you are dear," Elena said, serving her a bowl of soup and hard pina bread, sliced thin. "The news is spreading fast through the capitol now; the queen has heralds on every corner shouting out her victory."
"What are they saying?" she leaned forward, desperate for news. What had happened to Stellan? Maybe Elixa hadn't locked him up at all; maybe she'd thrown him in a chest at the bottom of the ocean.
"The formal announcement is that the Ilahi would have burned our empire to the ground with his ceaseless ambition and his refusal to negotiate peace even on the brink of starvation." Dalga? But they weren't even at war with Dalga anymore. Alaric had returned Tibre weeks ago. "The queen saved us all by bargaining with Dalga's king and he's released Tibre at her command." Oh, so that's how she's spinning the tale, is it? "They have the Ilahi imprisoned and the Handmaiden died a tragic death in an attempt to fight the Queen's Guard. So they say," she added with a smile.
"So I'm dead, am I?"
"Apparently so. Would be mighty awkward for them should you turn up now." No, they would just kill me and cover it up. A government as large and powerful as Yeraz's could get away with anything. She needed to free Stellan, as soon as possible. Less than a day had passed and they would be guarding that room heavily, for the time being. Anaka was willing to bet they wouldn't last more than a week down there though. The Sphere's magic, that evil, corroding, terrifying force slowly drove men mad the closer they were to it, the longer they spent in its presence. They used to keep the lower level under constant surveillance, hundreds of years before Anaka's time, but the guards would either be overcome with insanity or kill themselves five years, one year, six months into their service. The more time that passed, the more queens who were bonded, the stronger it got. A week, at most, before they left him alone.
"How long can I stay here?" she asked.
"Oh, as long as you need dear. This cannot last. What is the queen thinking, that she'll live forever? That she'll never need a replacement? Your daughter was meant for that throne."
II
Every day for the last week, Anaka had had to force herself not to dream. The Handmaiden was quickly going stir crazy cooped up in that tiny house, watching Elena bustle about with a hundred unknown chores or knitting hideous blankets for her twelve grandchildren, who were just growing oh so fast. But finally, finally it was time. A million things could go wrong. She could be mistaken about Stellan's location. There could be way more guards than she'd anticipated. Her daughter's magic might not be enough; she was just a tiny unborn baby after all. But she had to try. Without Stellan she was nothing and no one would help her.
After a well prepared meal of rabbit and vegetables, Anaka carefully explained to Elena what she planned to do. In a two room house with no doors, there'd be no hiding anything.
"Are you certain it will work?" Elena asked, among a thousand other questions Anaka did not know the answer to.
"I'm not certain of anything! Most likely I'll get caught, wake up here and will have to flee the city. But I have to try."
"Of course, you must! To think, the Ilahi himself in my house! I simply cannot fathom it!" He'll be asking why I didn't just leave him in there once you regale him with tales of your grandchildren.
The Handmaiden closed her eyes and settled on the sofa, pulling the magic around her like an invisible cloak. Imagining the underground maze below the palace was not difficult. Anaka would never forget that room, each detail of it etched into her mind like a scar. The depths of its blackness, the icy stone walls, the terror beyond reason increasing with each breath of stale air, and of course the Sphere itself, glaring like the eye of a mythical monster waiting for the right time to devour her.
In a blink she went from Elena's little house remembering the horror of the Sphere, to almost being crushed by its reality. The Handmaiden opened her eyes, the purple, pulsing orb drawing her darkly inward.
"Annie?" Stellan was sitting in a dark corner of the room, still wearing the suit he'd put on for the council meeting, now dirty and disheveled, the coat a crumpled ball on the floor. His hair stuck up in every direction and shadowy circles rimmed his black eyes; far more a prisoner than a god. "How did you get here?" Anaka rushed into his arms and they embraced under the dark light of the Sphere. The Sphere...they had to get out, before Elixa sensed her presence or her magic.
"I'm using our daughter's magic," she admitted, talking fast, barreling on before he could take in all the implications. "We have to get out of here. How can we without being seen?" She hadn't thought through the escape plan. Anaka could not dream Stellan out; either the magic didn't work that way or she didn't have enough of it. That left the rest up to him.
"Can you change our appearance?" Anaka replied with a dubious look. Beyond traveling in a dream copy of her body, she hadn't tried anything else with the magic. Would she even be able to use it?
"Just try," he said. "Imagine we're guards in full armor. The Queen's Guard, that's who's been checking up on me." The Queen's Guard. Tall men in Stilethen armor, metal staves and overly high opinions of themselves. She closed her eyes and reached for the magic; so easy now, like breathing. Anaka could feel it all the time like a force living inside her, asleep until she woke it up. She imagined every detail of the armor, of the men, and fed her thoughts and intentions to the magic. It rose up and exploded out of her, like a storm wind over the sea. When she opened her eyes once more, both she and Stellan were unrecognizable armored men.
"We have to hurry," he said. "Elixa probably knows already." Anaka gave the Sphere a backward glance before follow
ing Stellan out and away from that evil place. He marched quickly down the hall, Anaka struggling to keep up. Their disguises were just that – Anaka still felt like herself in her aching, pregnant body. The Queen's Guard body was little more than a magical mask. They encountered no one until the second level where two Queen's Guards patrolled the stairs, one with the purple stripe of captain across his armor.
"Halt! What are you two doing down here?"
"Checking status on the prisoner, sir," Stellan replied.
"No one is supposed to be down there for another hour, and no one enters that room without me."
"I apologize sir, I must have gotten the times mixed up. Anyway, we've just come from there and the prisoner is secure. I would be happy to back down with you if you would like." The guard captain visibly flinched, certainly as eager to enter the Sphere's room as he would be to enter a cell filled with condemned killers and no sword. Anaka knew just how he felt.
"That won't be necessary, but do not let it happen again."
"Yes, sir." Stellan proceeded up the steps and Anaka followed silently behind. Could it really be that easy? Just walk right out? Apparently so. They kept going and didn't stop until they reached the end of the Palace Road.
"We look a bit conspicuous now so far from the palace. Can you drop these?" he said, gesturing to their appearances. They shuffled into an alleyway behind a grubby tavern and Anaka released some of her magic, holding onto the bit that kept her dreaming, since her body remained at Elena's house. The Handmaiden and the Ilahi – the most well-known and up until a week ago powerful couple in Yeraz walked together down the bustling streets of the capitol and no one noticed. Without the carriages and the guards and the golden cloaks, they were invisible.