Of the Abyss

by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

  CHAPTER 15

  This is madness, Hansa thought as he stared at the well in front of him. Located at the back of a mostly-­abandoned, rocky acre of scrub that had once been farmland, the well’s wooden cover was rotten and half-­collapsed. There was plenty of room to allow a crazy person to jump inside.

  That was exactly what he had been told to do.

  His breath made a white fog in front of his face as he stared into the blackness below. His fingertips trembled, but not from the cold.

  No, he didn’t feel cold at all. His heart was pounding much too fast for him to be affected by temperature.

  He had told Ruby as much truth as he dared, but even though she adored Pearl as much as anyone, she hadn’t understood why one of the other guards couldn’t go. He couldn’t tell her the assignment had come from a half-­Abyssi creature instead of his captain. No matter how much Hansa wanted to cut all ties to Umber, he couldn’t abandon Pearl. Not darling Pearl, who used to sit on the front steps of the Cobalt Hall for hours, and who sneaked out to deliver hot cider when he was serving that long, cold night’s watch. He couldn’t stand the thought of her being hurt.

  He was still insane, and he knew it, to have agreed to Umber’s plan.

  He hadn’t asked why Pearl meant so much to a half-­Abyssi because he hadn’t trusted him not to lie. Once Hansa got the girl, he was taking her straight back to the Cobalt Hall. He wouldn’t have agreed to this plan if Umber had even implied he expected Hansa to turn Pearl over to him.

  Now he was at the well.

  Hansa wondered which of the many unpleasant ways he would die, if Umber was wrong, or had lied to him. Depending on how deep the well was, and whether or not it still had water, he might just break a leg, and die of infection or starvation. Or he could drown. Or freeze to death. Those options might, however, all be better than the possible ways to die if Umber was right, and telling the truth.

  Trying to resist the instinct to hold his breath, Hansa stepped up onto the side of the well. He could not refrain from squeezing his eyes shut, as he took another step forward, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he tried to keep himself from flailing out to try to stop his fall.

  Instead of rock bottom, or cold water, he felt like he hit a lake full of blood. Suddenly he was enveloped in warmth. His senses screamed we’ll drown! as his eyes shot open.

  Someone near him purred, “Oh, look, fresh blood.”

  “New?” someone else whistled.

  “He isn’t new,” yet another voice replied. “I’ve tasted that one before.”

  Hansa struggled to keep from screaming. The voices that rippled around him had a physical quality, like hot breath on the back of his neck.

  Or, suddenly, silky fur against his cheek.

  “I know you,” the one who had just brushed against him observed. “You’re the one Xaz stopped me from eating.”

  Hansa struggled to remember all the things Umber had told him. Umber had not anticipated this exact situation, but he had explained to Hansa why it made perfect sense that a man who had just recently been a Quin guard would now be standing in a mancer’s temple.

  Then it’s you who did this to me, Hansa told the Abyssi who had challenged him. The Abyssi who had slaughtered nearly a dozen Quin guards.

  The world around Hansa turned green, rolling, as he realized that.

  Stop that, the Abyssi snapped.

  And, from somewhere else, a small whimper.

  Umber had told him that technically, there was no “space” in the temple, no moving, but that everything was controlled by one’s own mind. Even so, Hansa thought of himself as walking toward the small sound.

  What he found, huddled at the back of the temple, was . . . almost a shadow. He couldn’t quite see her, or feel her, or hear her. Umber had told him that would be the case, too.

  “She isn’t yours,” a voice like icicles said. It was hard to hear, faint like a distant puff of wind.

  “She shouldn’t be here.”

  “That isn’t your concern,” the creature said. “She was brought here. You have no claim to her. You cannot take from the temple that which you have no claim to.”

  Umber had given several suggestions for dealing with the challenges Hansa was likely to face in the temple, but one had been at the top of the list, and it was the one Hansa went with now:

  Run.

  “I’ll take you home,” he said to the little girl, as he tried to wrap his thoughts around her. “Pearl?”

  “Hansa?” Her voice sounded very far away, but at last, he felt her clinging back.

  The hardest part is going to be getting out of the temple, Umber had said. There is no physical door to open or pass through; you have to will yourself through it.

  With a demon quite possibly on his heels, one that had already nearly killed him once, Hansa found himself strangely motivated.

  DOOR!

  Abruptly, he was stumbling on a dew-­covered mat of fallen leaves and pine needles near the defunct well, his arms wrapped around a crying child.

  A moment later, the Abyssi was in front of him, its fur glistening in the moonlight, and its tail lashing back and forth. “Quin, you and I should talk about your charade, before you go.”

  Hansa put his back to a tree, holding Pearl protectively as he searched for the mancer.

  “Xaz is elsewhere,” the Abyssi said. “As for the girl . . . I only want to talk to you. If she runs, I won’t chase her.”

  Hansa set Pearl on her feet.

  “Pearl, see the lights, way up there?” he asked, pointing the girl toward the inn that stood sentinel at the start of the path to the well. “You run toward them. Hide in the stables. There’s a sweet horse there, and a kitten. Run! As fast as you can.”

  The girl took off, nearly flying, without needing another word. Umber would look for her in the stables if Hansa didn’t make it out of this.

  The Abyssi watched Pearl go for a moment, but then turned back to Hansa.

  “So,” the demon purred. “Let’s start with, I recognize your taste. I’ve had your blood. The only thing I would recognize more easily is my own power, which is not the magic infecting you. A mancer wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. Your story would have worked around most Abyssi. But not me. So explain yourself, before I remember I’m hungry, and decide that Xaz would probably not object to my killing a Quin guard who infiltrated the temple and stole someone from it.”

  Where was Umber? He had assured Hansa that he would deal with any “consequences” of his taking Pearl from the temple. This was a pretty serious consequence!

  “I’m not after the temple,” Hansa said. He tried to edge away, and the Abyssi leaned forward, trapping Hansa between itself and a large oak trunk. “I don’t care about the temple. I’m not going to report the temple. I learned that lesson.”

  The Abyssi smiled, baring twin rows of sharp teeth. “Oh, did you?” it asked. “That ‘lesson’ ended up making you the hero of Mars. I was worried you might have become arrogant.”

  “I want nothing more to do with mancers, demons, or half-­breeds,” Hansa avowed.

  “Of course, the spawn,” the Abyssi said. “The power is his. That must have been exciting for you.”

  Umber had lent Hansa enough power to make it through the rift and impersonate a mancer. The process had been uncomfortable to the extreme, and had involved knives and blood—­and why had Hansa been surprised?

  Hansa flinched as the Abyssi leaned forward, its cheek brushing against his.

  “It doesn’t have to involve blood,” it whispered. “And, with all his magic pumping through you, he won’t be able to take it back without your cooperation, so if you wish you can demand an alternative ritual.”

  “Why do I not feel like you’re trying to help me?” Hansa asked, the words a little choked because he was straining away from t
he demon. Even through his cloak, vest, and shirt, his back was probably going to have a perfect map of the bark of the tree behind him later.

  “Do you think I want you to keep that power?” the Abyssi asked.

  “Mind if I cut in?”

  Hansa had never been so grateful to see Umber in his life. The crossbreed stepped forward with no hesitation at all and wedged himself between Hansa and the Abyssi, facing the demon straight on. They were nearly the same height, both a ­couple inches taller than Hansa, and Umber didn’t flinch as he looked into the glowing blue eyes.

  Instead, he said, “Oh, how lovely. Blue.” Leaning back against Hansa, who was frozen like a rabbit trying to evade notice by a predator, Umber reached up and caressed the demon’s cheek, and then trailed his fingers through its hair. “And so soft. Dioxazine is a lucky, lucky girl.”

  Was Hansa going mad—­a distinct possibility—­or had the Abyssi just started to purr?

  The Abyssi gave ground as Umber stepped forward a bit, now running a hand up its chest. “If the mancer ever bores you—­and Numenmancers can be so dull—­and you’re looking for some fun—­” He wrapped a hand around the back of the Abyssi’s neck. “You are welcome to look me up.”

  Umber had by that point backed the Abyssi up until it was now leaning against the edge of the well; another nudge from Umber, and it obligingly leaned backward, balanced over the door to the rift. At first Hansa thought Umber planned to push the Abyssi in, and he wondered what was going to stop it from coming back out, furious with them.

  Instead, Umber kissed it.

  Hansa backed away, but couldn’t quite force his eyes from the two creatures, who strained toward each other, both apparently oblivious to Hansa.

  Apparently oblivious . . . so what in the name of the Abyss was he still doing there?

  After too long watching the two creatures twine tongues, he turned, and dashed toward where he had told Pearl to hide.

  “Pearl?” he called, a strained whisper, as he stepped into the stables.

  “Hansa!” The little girl appeared from behind a stack of barrels, and threw herself at the guard. “I got lost,” she whimpered. “I got lost in there, and they wouldn’t let me out . . .”

  “Ssh. It’s okay,” he whispered. “But you’ve got to be a big girl now, Pearl. We can’t stay here. Can you be a big girl, and hop up onto this horse with me, and I’ll take you back to the Cobalt Hall?”

  She nodded.

  He lifted Pearl onto the horse Umber had lent him, which he had left saddled, anticipating he might need to make a quick escape. As he did so, he noted that there was now a second one, a roan stallion, in the stable. The beasts were rare enough in Kavet that he suspected the horse had to belong to Umber as well. Well, hopefully it would be there a long time, as the Abyssi and the Abyssi-­spawn entertained each other.

  Hansa’s gorge tried to rise as that thought crossed his mind, and he failed to get a leg fully across the beast on the first try. At least his crazy, arm-­waving attempt to get his balance without smacking Pearl, made Pearl giggle.

  “Hold on,” he warned her. “Off we go!”

  As a member of the Quin guard, he was one of the few citizens of Mars who knew how to ride. Pearl on the other hand had obviously never been on a horse. She let out an exhilarated “Whee!” that made him laugh despite all else.

  The second set of hoofbeats didn’t register in Hansa’s mind until Pearl let out a whimper, and Umber, on the roan stallion, drew up beside Hansa.

  You can let the girl know I’m not going to hurt her.

  Despite his better judgment, Hansa relayed the message. “It’s okay, Pearl. This man helped me get you out of there.”

  Pearl nodded that she heard, but she didn’t look up, and didn’t seem to be enjoying the ride any more.

  That was one of the most disgusting things I’ve ever seen, Hansa observed.

  You’ve never seen some of the other creatures of the Abyss, Umber replied. Where exactly do you think spawn come from?

  Another thought Hansa hadn’t wanted to have.

  The trick to kissing an Abyssi, Umber continued, apparently enjoying Hansa’s discomfort about the subject, is to always let him lead. Stick your tongue past all those sharp little teeth, and you will almost inevitably lose it. Hansa squirmed; Umber chuckled. Really, what else was I supposed to do? Abyssi are pleasure-­centered. They don’t have “logic,” just wants. They feed, they fuck, they play. The only good way to distract them from one is to offer another. Since I wasn’t about to let it eat you, I had to offer better bait.

  Dear Numen, would the visual images never cease? And Hansa had thought that seeing that creature rip through all his fellows had been the worst thing a man could ever see in his life. No, now he had this new, harrowing image in his mind.

  And despite all that, he still felt obliged to say, Thank you. For not letting it eat me.

  It would have made things complicated. Umber sighed. Unfortunately, Dioxazine pulled her pet away before we could have too much fun. Very frustrating. Though, if you have a few hours, we could take care of your gratitude. . .

  If I join the Napthol Order, will I be able to hide from you? Hansa hadn’t meant to send that thought as a question, but apparently it got across. Umber started laughing so hard, he actually had to slow his horse in order to avoid being unseated, allowing Hansa to pull ahead.

  It was several minutes later when Umber caught up again. By that time, Pearl seemed to be half asleep in Hansa’s arms.

  She probably hasn’t slept since she was taken, Umber remarked, regarding the girl fondly. And the temple would have been exhausting.

  Why did you do this? Hansa asked, as Umber again moved alongside. What’s in it for you?

  The silence of the prime witness against you.

  Liar, Hansa accused, thinking of all the other strings Umber had pulled. Unless the Napthol Sisterhood really is that much of a problem for your magic?

  Umber snickered. The Cobalt Hall is a problem. It is vested with magic. The Sisters themselves have no special powers . . . in general. He glanced to Pearl as he said the last bit. That one is special, in a way that means the mancers will want her. I may be half-­Abyssi, but I’m also half-­human. More human than Abyssi, really, since I’ve been raised on this plane. I know you don’t think highly of me, but you should at least consider the possibility that the idea of a child being enslaved and abused might upset me.

  Hansa couldn’t figure out how to respond.

  After a while, Umber added, I saved your life. I won you back your fiancée. I didn’t let the Abyssi have you. You might want, at some point, to consider acknowledging that I am not, in fact, evil.

  You also pretty much assaulted me while I was in that jail cell.

  Umber shrugged. I wanted to make sure you fully considered your actions.

  So, you’re saying those threats were . . . idle? Hansa asked, hopefully.

  Umber chuckled. Oh, darling, idle threats are useless. I never make them. You’re a beautiful man. I meant every word I said about that matter.

  And that’s where you lose me, Hansa said.

  Oh, so saving your life—­

  You said yourself, you only did that to avoid my possibly becoming a mancer.

  —­and your reputation—­

  Because I forced you to.

  —­and saving Pearl’s life . . . what, no witty comeback to that one? All of that doesn’t balance out more heavily than the fact that I happen to find you lovely?

  You apparently find a lot of things lovely.

  Again, that damned image of Umber and the Abyssi together.

  Umber shook his head. “Spoken like a Quin,” he said, softly. It wasn’t a jest, or a warning, or even an insult. Just a disappointed statement of fact. “We should drop the horses off at the edge of town and try to get to the Cobalt
Hall before dawn. We need to pull that extra magic out of you before you get spotted by someone with the sight.”

  CHAPTER 16

  She lay on her stomach on a mound of pillows and blankets, her knees bent and her feet swinging, as she watched the sparkle of the performer’s billions of tiny bells and coins. At least, it seemed like billions, to Cadmia. They shone in the firelight, and let off a kind of music that made Cadmia tap her feet in the air.

  The dancer’s body rippled, swayed, undulated, in a way that Cadmia wondered if hers ever would. So far, her body was scrawny, and flat like a boy’s.

  But maybe, someday, she would grow up to look like her mother.

  Scarlet Paynes had tried to teach her daughter some of her dance steps, but Cadmia had yet to grow into her long, awkward limbs, and she just couldn’t make her body move the way she wanted to. Maybe with more time she would learn, but there never seemed to be enough time. Mother had her performances, and then hours spent with her fans and her beaus, and then a meal and then sleep so she could do it again the next day.

  “It’s what keeps the food on the table,” Scarlet told her daughter once.

  But mostly, the A’hknet dancer did not reference such hard facts of life. After all, she loved to dance. She loved the power of sensuality, and she loved the adoration she received, so why should she complain about long hours and few days off?

  Cadmia fell asleep in front of the fire.

  When she woke, it was just a few hours after dawn. A few others were sleeping near her, but no one she knew. She stood up and went into the kitchen, where she found some milk and an apple for breakfast.

  She stepped out the door—­

  And into the public garden behind the Quinacridone. A woman was weeping, on her knees, with her hands pressed to the stone wall between the gardens and the inner hall.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m lost,” the woman said. “I’m so lost.”

  “Where are you trying to find?”

  The woman looked up, revealing eyes that were empty sockets. “I don’t remember.”