The Never Tilting World

by Rin Chupeco

  “I’m really going to go through with this, aren’t I?” I asked my reflection. A small, traitorous part of me wanted to remain in the Spire. I’d never done anything like this before.

  But I had to go. I knew what those galla were. The blue jewels gave away their identities.

  Once upon a time, Mother had sat me down and told me about Inanna’s Song. It was a ritual every pair of twin goddesses undertook; a pact Inanna had made with the Cruel Kingdom to keep these demons from escaping into Aeon. But when their turn had come, Mother’s twin had made a mistake and caused the Breaking. Mother never told me what that error was, only that I would not need to go through the ritual like they had.

  The galla’s appearance proved her wrong.

  I combed what locks I could down my face to obscure my features, pulled a cowl over my head, and grabbed the bag I had packed several hours ago. I had to do this. If it meant I could save the world somehow, or reverse the effects of the Breaking . . .

  “I’m sorry,” I told the sleeping Maleeyah. It would be ten hours or so before the lethargy I’d introduced into her system dissipated. She’d be the perfect decoy.

  The others were already gathered by the small pier. Above our heads the Brevity loomed—our largest and fastest ship. I’d watched them careen it two days ago, cleaning it from top to bottom as best they could despite the thunderstorms and lightning lancing across the sky. It was Mother who had christened it, joking that she hoped we would use the ship that way—briefly and only when necessary. So much for that.

  They were loading cannons and armaments up the gangplank, numerous weapons of war I didn’t even know we had. At least Brevity and its crew would not leave unarmed.

  The Devoted were carting various trunks bearing equipment, clothes, and enough food to last us months. Half had volunteered for the journey, with the other half expected to man the fort while the rest were away.

  “We’ll fish for what we can and save some of the nonperishables for later,” I heard Gracea tell Mother. I adjusted my hood and walked calmly past them and onto the ship, despite my wildly beating heart. “The riverwinds near the city have been mapped out well enough, at least. Once we reach the Lunar Lakes, we’ll disembark and figure out the best next step.”

  “Take good care of the people under your charge, Gracea,” Mother replied. “I want you to lead this expedition, but I will not accept any more deaths.”

  The Starmaker shrugged. “The alternative is Odessa’s ill health and the destruction of Aranth, Your Holiness. We shall be most careful. The first expedition’s mistake was to divide into smaller groups in an attempt to cover more ground. In their haste, they put themselves in danger, without regard for their own—and at great cost. By keeping together we shall increase our chances, however strong those shadowed creatures are. My skills will be enough to repel their darkness.”

  It was clear that she was delivering snippy criticism at Lan, and I very much wanted to slap the smile out of the Starmaker on her behalf. The Catseye herself was already on the ship, surveying the seas with grim determination, and I made sure to stay away from her. Of all the people on this expedition, it was Lan who could recognize me despite all my attempts at camouflage.

  Noelle strolled up the gangplank, carrying multiple weapons of different sizes with considerable ease. Lan’s mouth fell open. “Where did you get those?” she sputtered.

  “Her Holiness has a small armory, milady. She gave me permission to select as many weapons as I required.”

  “You must have cleaned out her inventory, then,” Lan said, as Noelle handed her a halberd. “Do you even know how to use these?”

  “I believe I am more than proficient. And Her Holiness has blessed them all with Light, which makes them just as deadly.”

  “Are you, perhaps, planning on using them all at once?”

  “I thought you might be interested in a few, milady.”

  “At least now I know how you’ve been amusing yourself in the Spire while I was away.” Lan gave the halberd a few practice swings, testing its weight. She sighed. “I’d still rather you stayed with Odessa, Noe.”

  “I could say the same for you. But we are here, and by the looks of it, we are about to depart. Have you said your goodbyes to her?”

  Lan looked down. “We didn’t leave under the best circumstances. I wish I could have . . .” She stared back out at the city, then turned away. I hid my face from view, blinking back tears.

  A loud crash made me look up; a clerk had stumbled, tipping over a Devoted’s trunk and sending clothes spilling out.

  “You incompetent degenerate!” Holsett came striding forward, face red with fury. He raised his stick, and the clerk cowered back.

  But Lan was there, staring down the older man. “Let it go, Seasinger,” she said, her voice calm. “It was an accident.”

  “She’s right,” Seasinger Graham said, coming up behind the man. “There’ll be worse days ahead. Learn to control your anger now while we’re still on dry land.”

  Holsett stared hard at Lan before moving away, muttering.

  “My apologies, Lady Tianlan,” Graham said. “Tension is high today, but that’s no excuse for this kind of disrespect.”

  “Not a lady. Thank you for speaking up as well, Seasinger.” As Graham left, Lan extended a hand to the clerk. He scrambled to his feet, shooting her a grateful look before bowing quickly and scurrying off.

  “Is it always like this?” the Catseye asked, staring after the retreating young man.

  “I’ve been told that Holsett has a temper at times,” Noelle suggested.

  “No. What I meant was—” Lan paused, sighed. “Never mind. Graham seems all right, but I’m not sure I can say the same about some of these Devoted.”

  Neither could I. I had limited contact with most of Mother’s subordinates, but I always thought them hard taskmasters. This seemed a little extreme, though, even for them; the expedition no doubt had everyone on edge.

  A horn sounded from somewhere below, and the planks were raised. I watched the sails unfurl, heard commands being issued by Gracea, who stood behind the wheel.

  Lan snorted. “Might not like that old git, but she was once a shipman’s daughter. I suppose she knows what she’s doing.”

  “You have little experience with ships, milady?” Janella was idling by her side, looking nervous and fiddling with the strings of her hood. Like the other clerks, she had on a muted gray cloak, though she wore a scarlet robe underneath it.

  “I like to do all my thinking on dry land,” Lan said sourly. “I’m surprised to find you here, Jan.”

  The other girl smiled nervously, and her fingers brushed back a small lock of her dark hair. “I might not wield any magic, milady, but I am well-versed in the histories of Aeon, even in the lands after the Breaking. The history of Brighthenge is my specialty. I believe my knowledge will be of some use to the crew.”

  “I hope so, for all our sakes. It didn’t go so well for me the first time.” The anchors had finally been hoisted, and I could feel Air patterns holding steady behind the sails, maintained by one of the Windshifters as the ship began to inch its way out of the harbor. I risked a peek back and saw Mother gazing out after the ship, a satisfied expression on her face as we left the dubious safety of Aranth’s port and began our journey into the wildlands.

  Don’t sound the alarm. Don’t sound the alarm. Don’t sound the alarm. It was only, finally, after the city slipped from view that I exhaled my relief, surprised to find my knees shaking. Mother had always seemed omniscient to me. I never thought I would be able to outmaneuver her, or get away with this. . . .

  How would she react after discovering me missing?

  How angry would she be?

  Would she come after me? That thought horrified me most of all.

  But the fear soon passed, replaced by the dizzying realization that I was out of Aranth. I leaned over the railing, bracing myself against the wind, and I couldn’t stop the laughter rising out of my mo
uth. I was out of the Spire! I was no longer trapped! For the first time I was free, and it was hard to contain the sudden elation that bubbled up from my chest.

  And then all too quickly that jubilation faded, and I was doubled over, coughing weakly against the bars. Damn this weakness.

  A few puzzled glances were being directed my way, so I abandoned the fresh air and scuttled toward the cabins, still giddy. A mumbled question led me to the room Maleeyah was supposed to be occupying, and I sat down heavily on the small cot. The high wore off soon enough, and was replaced by trepidation.

  I’d always—almost always, I amended—obeyed Mother. What would she do when she discovered me gone? Send out another group after me? Once we reached the riverwinds, that would be practically impossible.

  I opened my pack and drew out a thick volume. It wasn’t mine; I’d stolen it from Mother’s collection earlier that morning. I turned it to a page I’d read so many times before I could repeat the text from memory.

  When they approach with lapis lazuli,

  accept their offering of clarity.

  When they approach with the blue turban of the open country,

  accept their offering of courage.

  When they approach with the twin-egg beads,

  accept their offering of abundance.

  When they approach with the lapis brooch,

  accept their offering of life.

  When they approach with the jeweled measuring rod,

  accept their offering of beginnings and endings.

  When they approach with the sapphire ring,

  accept their offering of rulership.

  When they approach with the glittering eyes,

  accept their offering of a mother’s love.

  For every gift, a terror.

  For every radiance, a sacrifice.

  Inanna’s Song. The ritual that mimicked her descent into the underworld. All the goddesses had performed this rite, and now it was my turn.

  This strange text was all I knew about what to expect—Mother had been keen about not telling me the specifics, much to my frustration. It said nothing about what came after accepting the gifts, only that it guaranteed peace in Aeon.

  And that, once upon a time, Mother’s twin had made a mistake that disrupted the ritual and broke the world. A catastrophic mistake whose details Mother had refused to tell me about. In hindsight, I wished I’d insisted on knowing more. . . .

  I thought about the strange horned shadow, its beard of blue jewels. An offering of clarity. I’d seen my first vision in that encounter, of Aranth dying—was that my gift? For every radiance, a sacrifice. What sacrifice then would it demand from me?

  “You were wrong, Mother,” I said softly. “World’s end doesn’t mean rituals do. It’s my turn now.”

  Still—was I right? Was I interpreting these rituals the correct way? I had little idea of how they’d been accomplished in the past to make a comparison. What if this was all a trick?

  Had I even interpreted my vision correctly? Was the destruction of Aranth something that would happen in my lifetime, or a warning for a time still far in the future? I had been so sure it would take place within a year’s time, but . . .

  I closed my eyes, trying to assess myself. Save for the earlier bout of dizziness, I hadn’t suffered from exhaustion since leaving Aranth, despite all the excitement. I felt better out here than I’d ever had in Aranth. Strange, since the shadow in my heart had grown since. Was this another of the galla’s gifts?

  I didn’t know what the ritual’s endgame is. But surely, if this was the common practice done with every goddess that lived before me, it would be to everyone’s benefit for me to finish it? If this could save Aranth, maybe even permanently counter the effects of the Breaking, then why not?

  I’d just have to push through, I decided. I had nothing else to look forward to but a lifetime of isolation back in Aranth. I’d rather take my chances with Brighthenge.

  There was something written along the margins of that page—a scrawled offhand comment that had not been part of the original text. It was not in Mother’s handwriting.

  A demoness is what men call a goddess they cannot control.

  That line haunted me for years. It didn’t seem to have anything to do with the rites, so why had someone written it down here?

  The ship reeled, and I nearly slid off my cot. The waves out here were capable of capsizing larger ships than the Brevity; without the Windshifters, we probably would have sunk long before we reached any of the riverspouts.

  My head spinning, I grabbed onto a post for support and waited until the dizziness passed, then shoved the book back in my bag. Perhaps the open air would help me breathe easier, though I would have to make doubly sure no one saw through my disguise.

  The first person I saw was Lan, retching noisily over the side of the ship, Noe placidly standing beside her and holding her long hair up. “I hate this,” the Catseye groaned into the seas below. “I hate this. This was why we went through the damn wildlands on foot instead of taking a ship.”

  “Quit slacking off, Maleeyah.” I turned, surprised, and a sack of potatoes and a paring knife were shoved into my hands. “We’re gonna need our strength,” Windshifter Gareen said gruffly. “Peel these and make sure they’re ready for supper later.”

  “Why aren’t you peeling the—” I began, then remembered who I was supposed to be.

  The man grinned cheekily. “Because I’m a Devoted and you’re not. I’d find Merika, but Graham’s still . . .” He paused, then grinned. “Anyway, get on with it, or Gracea’ll be pissed when there’s no supper to be had.” He darted off to where Windshifter Halida was waiting for him, rosy-cheeked and giggly. I rolled my eyes.

  I couldn’t exactly refuse without blowing my cover, so I scurried off to a quiet area so I could get this over with.

  But there lay the question: How did you peel potatoes, exactly?

  I’d never had to peel any kind of food in my life. It was something I’d always taken for granted, and no one had thought to teach me. I stared at the knife. It ought to be simple enough, somehow. Scrape the sharp edge along the skin and it should slide right off. Right?

  It worked better in theory than in practice, and an hour later found me having nicked myself twice for every successful swipe I made, with five badly peeled potatoes for my efforts. At this rate, I was certain I would faint from the loss of blood, and the ship’s crew would wind up either starving or poisoned.

  Another call sounded from above, and I glanced up to see Holsett gesturing frantically. “Riverwind ahead!” I heard him shout, and the deck exploded into a fresh flurry of activity, people lashing the sails or pushing some of the heavier cargo to one side or just bracing themselves for impact. I looked ahead and gasped aloud.

  The riverwind would be a thing of beauty if we weren’t heading straight for it. It was composed of visible currents of air flowing the way a river or stream would, except they did so several inches above the waves. My past history lessons told me this was easily one of the largest patterns of Air independently existing, and how it was able to flow on its own without any outside influence, human or otherwise, was still a mystery to our scholars.

  “Angle us toward its mouth!” Gracea shouted, and I saw a small spinning entrance resembling a large waterspout, serving as a bridge between the sea and the riverwind.

  I swallowed hard. We were going to make the crossing through that?

  Gracea yelled out several more commands, and I felt a sudden lurch as we sailed within range of the spout. With a heavy shudder, the whole ship lifted up from the water, spinning slightly despite its heavy bulk. I clung to part of the railing, potatoes tumbling everywhere.

  I cast a panicked glance around and found Lan and Noelle together, both clinging to the rails as I was and also to each other; Noelle still quite stolid and nonchalant, and Lan the closest thing to horrified I had ever seen her.

  It took a minute for us to bridge the gap; the ship righted
itself quickly enough, but instead of sailing across the seas, we were now literally sailing over them through the long tunnels of air above the waters. Despite the heavy winds around us, we felt none of the gusts; Lan sank down to the deck with a relieved groan, her head in her hands.

  Faint laughter echoed all around, and the others returned to their duties now that the initial danger had passed. I scrambled to pick up the potatoes that had gotten loose, wincing when I accidentally nudged one of my cuts.

  A flash of red caught my eye. Another sack landed by my feet, and Janella grabbed a small stool, sitting down on it. She took out her own knife. “What’s taking you so long, Malee?” she asked impatiently. “Where’s the hot water? It’s not like you to dawdle. I know you’re a bit nervous, but Gracea made it clear these were supposed to be ready by the time we found the spout and there’s not many peeled—” She came to a stop, staring hard at me.

  In my initial surprise, I’d forgotten to cover my face. Anyone on the ship who knew Maleeyah well enough would not have been fooled by now, but I had been hoping to draw out the facade for as long as I could.

  “Hold out your hand,” Janella finally said. I did, and she placed my knife on it, angling it into a different position than I’d previously been holding it. “You’ll need to peel the skins like this, Your Holiness,” she said quietly. “But first, you’ll need to pour some of the hot water from this kettle I brought into this pot. Let the potatoes steep for a few minutes before you start peeling. The heat helps slide the skin off faster, you see, and it would prevent a lot of those cuts you’ve been accumulating.”

  I gulped. “Why are you not sounding the alarm, Janella?”

  “Way I see it, Your Holiness, there’s no point. We’ve just entered the first of the riverwinds, and from what I know of the map Starmaker Gracea had out earlier, it would be impossible to return to Aranth until we’ve drawn closer to the Lunar Lakes. I’m in no position to be doling out the scoldings, so I suppose I should leave that to my betters. In the meantime, though, Catseye Tianlan would yell at me for allowing you to be hurt like this.” She smiled kindly. “I suppose you were worried about us, too. I heard that you wanted to come, but Her Holiness Asteria forbade it.”