Of the Abyss

by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

  Umber reached out, and his fingers slid against Hansa’s bare shoulder. Hansa tensed instinctively, fighting the flesh-­craving that touch renewed, and Umber took his hand away.

  “I don’t want to push you,” Umber said. “I know the Quin have rather unpleasant precepts about men with male lovers. As long as we’re in the Abyss, I can keep doing what I’ve been doing, but once we’re back in Kavet that won’t be an option.”

  Hansa didn’t think it was an option here, either. Naples hadn’t used the word starved to be poetic. Now that he was paying attention, Hansa could see the way Umber’s jaw and cheekbones seemed more pronounced and his tanned skin a shade paler. He hadn’t seen it before because he had been trying so hard not to notice anything about how Umber looked. Giving away so much power had to be dangerous for him.

  Either guessing or reading Hansa’s thoughts, Umber admitted, “There are other sources of power here. Once you’re settled, I can seek them out.”

  Umber was trying to give him an easy answer. The only thing easier would have been if Umber had taken Naples’ approach and deftly removed all opportunity to refuse. If only Xaz hadn’t stopped them that morning, when waking in Umber’s arms had made it so easy to let the bond take over without thinking about it . . .

  “It’s not just that you’re a man,” Hansa managed to say, trying to express the jangling thoughts that made it so hard to step forward and take Umber in his arms when the magic wasn’t overwhelming him. “I mean, yes, that’s . . . awkward . . . for me, but . . . I mean . . . you know I was raised Quin. Ruby and I, we both were.”

  “I’m aware of that.” Umber sounded puzzled. “I—­” He stopped. “Quin believe in waiting for marriage. You’re telling me you’ve never . . .” He trailed off as if the possibility was too absurd. “You’re twenty-­seven years old!”

  “Maybe Abyss-­spawn can’t survive without sex, but humans can.”

  “They can,” Umber conceded. “But why would you want to? Are you sure you ever were attracted to women?” He bit his lip before Hansa had to dignify the question with an answer. “Sorry. Dear Numen, Hansa, I nearly fed you to the Abyssumancer!” Hansa felt the ghost of a smile on his own face as he watched Umber try to come to grips with a fact he clearly didn’t know how to handle. It was nice to see him off-­balance for once, instead of Umber always being confident while Hansa fumbled.

  “I don’t want to pressure you,” Hansa said, struggling to keep a straight face as he repeated the words Umber had recently spoken more seriously. “If you need some time to—­”

  “Come here, Quin.” Umber grabbed his wrists and tugged him toward the bed. The grip was light enough that Hansa could have pulled away, but he followed despite his pounding heart. “I’m glad you put me off before. You deserve better than a quick tumble on the beach of the dry sea for your first time.”

  “Careful,” Hansa said, trying to maintain a façade of humor to keep from revealing just how nervous Umber’s intense gaze made him. “You’re starting to sound like a Numini.”

  He had moved closer to Umber without even noticing. It would have been impossible not to. Now, Umber wrapped his arms around Hansa’s waist.

  “How can I introduce you to new and obscene acts if you’ve never even made love?” he purred, his tone once again sardonic, expression sultry. “Come to bed. Let me show you how it’s done.”

  CHAPTER 30

  The Abyssumancer had separated them the moment they entered the building. Xaz could only hope the hospitality was genuine, and Alizarin and Azo were enough to keep Naples in check.

  Aurelian had mouthed apologies about the simple accommodations she offered Cadmia and Xaz, explaining that there was only one real guest room. She didn’t say it outright, but it was clear that the guest room had been given to either the Abyssi or the Abyss-­spawn, and the rest of them were lucky to have a place to stay.

  Xaz didn’t care if it was a space normally reserved for servants. The room was simple, but it was clean and warm. The floor was almost entirely covered by a startlingly crimson fur throw, the bed was topped by mounds of blankets, and most importantly, it wasn’t likely to be invaded by the predatory beasts of the Abyss. Did anything else matter?

  Well, there were the baths down the hall, which she made full use of.

  The water was hot to the edge of scalding, and felt marvelous after walking through the Abyss. The heat soothed her aching muscles, and water and caked soap made quick work of sweat and grime. The fresh clothes Aurelian brought were nothing intricate—­loose slacks and a shirt in the same style as everyone else in the household wore—­but they were made of deliciously soft material that felt lovely against Xaz’s chapped and sand-­scuffed skin.

  She meant only to put her sore feet up for a minute, but realized she had drifted into a doze when Aurelian announced, “Lady Azo will see you now.” No matter how exhausted she had been, or how lulling the comfortable accommodations had been, she couldn’t believe she had fallen asleep!

  Back in the front parlor, a tray had been set out with a variety of fruit and bite-­sized pieces of roasted meat. Xaz wondered if any of it had previously belonged to the multilegged creature they had seen Naples butchering, then decided that was a contemplation best avoided.

  “Should we wait?” Cadmia asked, looking at the food and then around the empty room.

  “I’m a Numenmancer,” Xaz said. “You’re human. I don’t think we need to worry about falling further in their esteem.”

  She understood where she fell in the Abyss’s hierarchy of importance. She wasn’t sure if being a Numenmancer made her more valuable than Cadmia or less, but either way she suspected she ranked about as high as the jellyfish creatures Hansa had killed.

  Besides, she was hungry. Alizarin had brought a little bit of fruit, but mostly meat, which Xaz had only eaten enough to keep from feeling like she was starving. After that, she couldn’t stand it. Even this offering, which was spiced and roasted instead of raw, didn’t sit well on her palate.

  “I didn’t expect there to be a place like this in the Abyss,” Cadmia remarked as she helped herself to a small plate of food. “How would something like this be built?”

  “It may have been a natural cave system Naples and Azo modified,” Xaz speculated, “or the Abyssumancer may have carved it out entirely. The doorways and foxfire are clearly his work.” With effort, sacrifice and ritual, Xaz thought she could create a hidden door like the ones that peppered this warren, but she would never be able to maintain one, much less the dozens she had seen here so far.

  Focused on her contemplation of the magic she had seen so far, and what it implied about Naples’ power, Xaz was startled when Cadmia asked, “How did you become a Numenmancer?”

  Xaz bristled. She knew what the Quinacridone and the Napthol said about how her kind came into being. She stared into Cadmia’s face, but saw no judgement there, only genuine curiosity.

  “The Numini started speaking to me when I was a child,” she said at last. “Five or six, maybe? I don’t remember when it started. They told me to keep them secret, and it was years before I connected my dreams and invisible playmates with the creatures my parents warned me about, and the tricks they taught me to do with sorcery.” There was no way to describe the depth of her horror when she had finally made the connection between the wicked things they warned about at her school and the beautiful power the Numini had given her, or the extent of her hurt at the Numini’s cold dismissal of her terrified, guilty questions. “When I finally understood and tried to question the Numini, they told me they had chosen me and I should be honored and grateful. Refusing them has never been an option.”

  Now there was disapproval in Cadmia’s face—­at least for a moment, before she hid it behind her professional mask—­but she didn’t have a chance to ask a follow-­up question before a doorway opened in the far wall and Naples entered. The Abyssumancer had changed h
is clothes, and his dark hair was loosely tied back. He walked close to a woman who could only be Azo, the mistress of the household.

  Umber was a handsome man, but unless one could see Abyssal power, there was nothing remarkable about him beyond his striking blue eyes. Azo, on the other hand, could never be mistaken for fully human. Her skin was the deep burgundy color of well-­aged wine, and the hair that cascaded across her shoulders and down her back in frothy waves was plum-­violet. Dressed in the same kind of loose slacks and blouse as Xaz and Cadmia, she nevertheless carried an air of lethality with her.

  “The others may be delayed,” she informed them, without bothering with courtesies like introductions. They already knew who she was, and clearly she already knew who they were, so what was the point? “Alizarin is hunting, and Hansa and Umber have their own needs to take care of. Perhaps you two can explain your troubles to us?”

  Azo and Naples settled into one of the couches, their bodies touching at the hand, knee, hip, and shoulder. Xaz shook her head, disgusted by how slow she had been, as she realized the obvious: Azo and Naples were bonded. No wonder one of the spawn was able to keep an Abyssumancer under control.

  Xaz and Cadmia exchanged a look, perhaps both wondering who would sound less stupid if they explained the idiotic logic that had brought them here. Without the explanation that the Numini had manipulated them, they had no excuse for their foolishness, but they had all agreed that the Abyssumancer was more likely to balk and refuse to help them if he knew this quest was divinely mandated.

  Xaz, no stranger to blows to her pride, launched into the tale. Naples’ eyes widened when he heard about Alizarin’s confrontation with Antioch, and he went very still when she said Cadmia had heard about a sorcerer called Terre Verte in her studies at the Order of the Napthol, but otherwise they both listened impassively until the end.

  “Alizarin said you might be able to help us,” Xaz concluded, looking at the Abyssumancer, “though I’ll admit, you have far more to lose by crossing the Abyssi court than we do. We hope to return to the mortal realm. I imagine that isn’t an option for you.”

  She meant the words kindly, as an acknowledgement of his bond to Azo and the risk he would run if he chose to help them, but could see instantly that she had misjudged. Azo’s face went stony. Naples froze. For a moment they both hesitated, as if in between heartbeats they existed as statues instead of living flesh.

  Then Azo shoved to her feet and announced, “I need to go to the court and explain to them why we are harboring a Numenmancer in our walls. Naples, deal with them.” She hesitated, met his gaze, and added flatly, “However you see fit.”

  She walked out without further apology.

  A chill passed over Xaz that had nothing to do with divine power, and everything to do with that last, ominous command.

  But Naples only sighed heavily. He closed his eyes and sank against the couch like a man whose body has been much abused and exhausted. “Alizarin has been a good friend to me,” he said, his voice sounding hollow. “I would be honored to help him. And I—­”

  He broke off as Hansa and Umber entered, along with a breath of Abyssal power so strong Xaz instinctively looked past them for Alizarin. Naples’ breath hissed in and his body tensed in reaction to the magic.

  When he at last looked up again, his expression was like porcelain, crafted and emotionless.

  “Naples was just about to say if he could help us,” Xaz prompted, when too many seconds passed without anyone speaking again.

  “We would be very grateful,” Umber replied, settling on to the love seat across from Naples with Hansa beside him. Naples’ controlled veneer cracked for a moment, revealing raw hunger visible in his copper eyes. Too late, Xaz reconsidered her assumption about his relationship with Azo.

  He caught her looking, and as his gaze flicked to her, the spark of famine became fury—­and then nothing. Cadmia couldn’t help but recall the way Umber had described how hard it was for an Abyssumancer to retain his humanity in the face of his power’s demands. How much effort did it take Naples to push the Abyss aside?

  This time it was Cadmia who reacted to the unfocused moment, as Naples apparently lost the thread of the conversation. “Is everything all right?” she asked softly.

  “Yes,” Naples said, firmly, the word and tone both seeming to suggest, No. He shook himself like an animal exiting cold water. “I was just considering, and deciding how to begin,” he explained. “I owe Umber a favor, so I would make this simple if I could, but a necromancer can’t help you fulfill this bond. A necromancer could summon and control your spirit on the human plane, but you need someone with power over the Abyss in order to find her soul here and drag it back across the veil, and power over life as well in order to recreate the body.”

  “You’re talking about a Gressumancer.” Xaz had heard of mancers who could control all four planes of existence, but she gave the rumors no credence. Even when the Numini had first mentioned Terre Verte, she had assumed they referred to an especially powerful necromancer, not a mythical creature.

  “What’s a Gressumancer?” Cadmia asked.

  “They’re also known as planes-­walkers,” Xaz said. “They’re a legend among mancers.”

  “Legends are based on truth,” Naples said. “And based on the stories I’ve heard, if there’s a man in the three realms who might have inspired this one, it’s Terre Verte. He lived before the mancers began to be born in Kavet. The Abyssi talk about him, say he was so powerful the king of the Abyss offered him a chance to become one of them, but he refused so they imprisoned him instead.”

  “In the royal court,” Cadmia said nervously. “Alizarin seems comfortable with his ability to manage the Abyssi of this level, but I don’t know if that’s an honest assessment of his abilities or an unwillingness to reveal weakness. Do you know?”

  “Oh, Rin is capable of laying waste to the high court,” Naples said, too casually. “He’s done it before. That’s how the current lord of the high court came to power.” He grinned, a feral expression that showed some pride in the blue Abyssi, but more savagery than joy. “I’m powerful enough on my own to walk through the high court in relative safety, even without Azo’s claim. And I have, which is how I know for certain Terre Verte is not there.”

  “Were the Numini wrong?” Hansa asked optimistically. “Maybe he’s just a story.”

  Umber’s voice was far, far too calm as he said, “The Abyss has five royal courts, one on each level of the Abyss.” It was clear he wished he didn’t need to ask Naples, “Where do the stories say Terre Verte is?”

  “The fifth-­level court, called the low court.”

  “You’re mad,” Hansa said. “Alizarin had to fight one fourth-­level Abyssi on our way here, and it was a close call. We can’t take on the entire Abyss. Xaz, I’m sorry, I know your Numini are trying to shove us into this, but as far as I’m concerned, this is impossible.”

  Naples yawned, seeming more relaxed instead of less now that he had revealed just how hopeless their situation was. “You didn’t have an Abyssumancer with you before,” he said.

  “Why would you help us?” Xaz demanded. She had stumbled with her earlier question, she knew that, but she raised it again because this situation didn’t make sense without the answer. “Why would you risk the wrath of the entire Abyss to drag this man out of the depths? If you just want to help Umber and Hansa, you can best do that by refusing to help.”

  Naples gave a sunny smile. “Because all things serve the divine, sweetheart,” he said. “Haven’t you heard?”

  He knew. They hadn’t mentioned the Numini, but somehow Naples knew. Or did he know something about Terre Verte? Or was he just quoting the old adage because rescuing an innocent man from the Abyss would be considered a divine act?

  She prepared to press the question with Naples further, but Umber answered for him. “He’ll help because he wants thi
s man, too. If he’s as powerful as the stories say, he can break the bond. That’s it, isn’t it?”

  As he had when Xaz had brought it up, Naples reacted to the reference to the bond as if it were a physical assault. He nodded sharply.

  “If anyone can, he can,” Naples said. “If you two have decided you don’t want the boon Hansa foolishly demanded, maybe he can break your bond as well. I figure a man who has been imprisoned in the deepest cell in the Abyss is probably willing to make a hefty deal.”

  “If this man can solve all your problems, why haven’t you gone after him before now?” Umber pressed.

  “I didn’t have a Numenmancer before,” Naples explained. “The palace is an interesting vortex. Power is in flux. I can hold back the more damaging magics of the Abyss so we can survive the journey down to the low court, but that will take all my attention. I can’t do it while fighting Abyssi.”

  The laugh that broke from Xaz’s throat was startled and dry. “And you expect me to?” Even her Numini couldn’t be arrogant enough to think she could battle the entire Abyssal court . . . right?

  “A properly-­trained and motivated Numenmancer could destroy an Abyssi,” Naples said, “but I’m aware you’re not that well versed. I don’t expect you to fight. The deeper Abyssi don’t see with eyes; they see with power. A Numenmancer’s power can blind them.”

  “And the higher Abyssi?” Umber asked. He leaned forward, one arm on the table, now listening intently. “They’ll still be able to see us, won’t they?”

  “Through the second level, the spawn are respected and allowed to own property,” Naples said. “So you could claim Hansa, Cadmia, and Dioxazine. Below that . . . on the third level, it may be assumed that we are there due to our connection to Alizarin, at least long enough for us to get through. Beyond that, Dioxazine can keep us clear.”