Grave Ghost

by Tia Reed

  Minekeeper Fenz chose that awkward moment to appear. The sombre, lean-faced man could have given him the time to concoct a tear-jerking story. Not that the heartless majoria would have been in any way swayed. It might have allayed Father’s grief, though, when Levi relayed news of his execution. Or not, if Father was still blaming him for his sister’s escape. Vinsant gulped as the short, bearded minekeeper opened the barred door of his cell, and removed his shackles. As soon as they fell free of his hands, he lunged for his hammock, threw the thin blanket into a corner and smoothed the empty fabric.

  “Follow me.”

  A quick check under the hammock failed to turn up any trace of the quartz. On hands and knees, he rummaged around the chilly floor. There wasn’t so much as a loose rock. He had not sealed an actual, real deal with the monstrous djinn, he was sure of it, but his protests to that effect were bound to fall on deaf ears. And the way he was quaking in his boots was bound to make him look downright guilty.

  “Apprentice!” the minekeeper called from the other end of the cavern. Judging by his stiff posture and tight jaw, he wasn’t about to tolerate stalling.

  Vinsant pulled his hood over his messy fair hair, dragged himself up and stumbled after Fenz, down ragged passages and through rough chambers he had not seen before but which were all labelled with two or three symbols in the manner of the lair under the palace. Whichever mahktashaan had taken care of him had healed the injury in his leg. He didn’t suffer more than a mild ache as they negotiated the uneven floors.

  After a few minutes, they emerged from one of several tunnels that spilled into a vast cavern. Its sheer walls rose beyond the illumination of the magic balls of light floating high above. That alone might have taken his breath, as might have the beautiful white stone arches and pillars around the periphery, and the stunning floor of a crimson mineral; the architectural wonder, here in the depths of the earth, might have struck him with awe were it not for the sheer dominating presence of the gargantuan crystal statue of Mahktos at the centre, towering over his puny self. Vinsant dropped to his knees and made obeisance, hoping his pleas would convince Mahktos to forgive him because Levi sure wasn’t going to. When he rose, he saw Fenz finishing a kowtow.

  “Come.”

  Vinsant followed, gaping. Not only did the statue appear to be carved out of a single piece of crystal, but it had three aspects, each one standing shoulder to shoulder with the others. Only when Vinsant followed the curve of the body down past the squat bowed legs to the large feet and flawless toenails did he notice the majoria. Vinsant felt compelled to join him on the crimson floor in further obeisance. He continued kowtowing until well after the majoria had risen to give himself time to think of an excuse. Unfortunately, other than dwelling on his forthcoming execution, his mind was being most unimaginative. The easiest solution seemed to be to remain in obeisance until he thought of something, kowtowing all night, or day – time was topsy-turvy in these caves – if need be.

  “Get up.”

  There went that idea. He scrambled to a soldier’s attention. “All praise to Mahktos. All honour to you, Majoria.” He bit his lip because nobody would believe his innocence after hearing his squeak of a voice.

  “Well?” Beneath his trim moustache, Levi’s mouth twitched in contempt.

  “Er. . . Um. . .” Vinsant deemed it safest to press his lips tight. Words were not going to get him out of this. He stole a glance at the statue. It was just as well the earthy smell of the rosemary leaves scattered around its base kept his thoughts from flying all over the dazzling cavern. Maybe if he pleaded some more with Mahktos? The gods were supposed to have oceans of patience, weren’t they?

  “I’m waiting.”

  Vinsant cleared his throat. His dry mouth was unbearable and he was looking off to the side because the majoria with his black crystal was way too furious a sight to behold. “Um. . .” He pulled his head into his shoulders and hiked up one corner of his lip as he tried to still his curling fingers by locking them behind his back.

  Levi drew something out of the sleeve of his black robe. “Does this honour mean so little to you?”

  Vinsant’s eyes almost popped out of his head. The majoria was holding his quartz. “You found it,” he said, grasping at it.

  Levi whipped it out of his reach. “Answer me.”

  Swallowing didn’t help moisten his tongue. “Being chosen as a mahktashaan apprentice is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

  “So why did you offer to trade your quartz? The gift of Mahktos?”

  “I didn’t.”

  The slap across his face was brutal, even dampened by his hood. “You will not lie to me.”

  Vinsant gritted his teeth. “I didn’t make a pact.”

  “You were about to.”

  “No!” He flinched. Levi had a fist at the level of his chest and might well have been about to deliver a serious blow. Since Father had washed his hands of him, the stinking son of a hairy djinn might even have got away with it. He curbed his tongue and put on his best sulk. It didn’t mean he wasn’t angry enough to tremble. “I wasn’t going to give my quartz away. I don’t have a death wish.”

  “Considering the number of times you have forfeited your life, I begin to wonder.”

  “I serve Mahktos. I want to be a mahktashaan. I need to be one.” How else was he to protect Kordahla?

  Fenz’s reply cracked like a whip. “Service is not a need. It is a privilege.”

  Vinsant formed fists of his own down at his sides as he awaited Levi’s pronouncement. It was sure death, and he knew it because his knees were knocking under his robe, and there was no pretending it was from anger. Except for a drawn-out, raspy inhalation Levi did not respond. The quirk hit Vinsant like a dunking in Lake Sheraz. The majoria understood. Deep down, Levi had to be nurturing the same longing he did.

  “Leave us, Minekeeper Fenz.”

  Vinsant perked up. Levi really did understand.

  Not a peep of protest, the minekeeper bowed. “All praise to Mahktos. All honour to you, Majoria.” His crystal glowed soft violet.

  Vinsant drew a deep breath as he watched Fenz glide over the floor. Blind obedience was not what he had had in mind when he recruited himself to the ranks of the mahktashaan. The position of majoria was a long way off, and until then he had only so much respect he was willing to offer. He hadn’t known the depth of servitude required when he had told Arun he wanted to be treated like any other apprentice. He was a prince, after all. If he lived past today.

  “What deal did the djinn offer?” Levi demanded, drawing him out of his scattered thoughts.

  Vinsant gazed up at the statue. The crimson irises rolled until he was right in their sight. He jumped. Okay, so he had promised not to lie to Levi, but Kordahla’s happiness was worth it. And if he was going to die anyway, it hardly mattered what he said.

  “Um. . . We didn’t quite get to a deal.” He felt a tightening around his throat before he could continue. As his windpipe constricted, a pressure pushed him down to his knees.

  “Mahktos warns you, apprentice. Do not lie.”

  It wasn’t a lie. Not if you took the literal approach. He gurgled as rosemary leaves pressed into his kneecaps. The hold on him disintegrated and he collapsed onto his hands, panting hard. “The. . . djinn. . .wanted. . .my quartz.” He rubbed at his throat. “I wasn’t going . . . to give it. . . to him. I swear.”

  “You were taking it off.”

  “I. . .” He risked a glance up. Mahktos was still studying him.

  The one thing Vinsant had left was his pride. He dragged one foot onto the floor, and then the other. Standing as straight as he could, he removed his hood so Levi could look him full in the face. The majoria tensed. That made him right jittery. He should have remembered the effect his crimson eyes had on others, but he had done nothing wrong, and he was not going to look down. “The indigo djinn wanted to deal for my quartz. I was going to offer him a loan, but I would never, ever have bargained it away.�
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  For three breaths Levi was silent. When he spoke, his voice was dangerous. “What were you bargaining for? To get out the mines? More powerful magic? Or did you request the position of majoria?”

  Vinsant scowled. “Mahktos has already given me powerful magic.” His crimson quartz and his rank were bound to elevate him to the position of majoria when he was grown up, even without Levi’s pledge to train him for the position. It set his blood boiling that Levi would even consider he would deal for those things.

  The scumhopper’s tongue slapped. Levi was jealous. Of him. The revelation must have shown on his face. The majoria’s crystal shone. Its black light pulled him right up, so his freckled nose was within a whisker of the man’s way too austere, over-disciplinary face.

  “What did the djinn offer?” Levi’s lips formed a hard line beneath his neat, black moustache.

  Fighting the magical force was reflex. He hadn’t meant to set his quartz, in the majoria’s hand, aglow. It was a relief, though, that whatever force had gripped him abated. He took a separating step, and pulled himself tall. With his quartz secure, his life had to be safe, but he respected Levi. The majoria had to understand that. It made truth the only option. “Ahkdul is hurting Kordahla.”

  Levi’s breath rasped. “You will not concern yourself with Kordahla.”

  “She’s my sister.” Levi had not even accorded her her title. Respect was one thing, but he couldn’t own to wholehearted trust in the majoria. Not where Kordahla was concerned.

  “She is Lord Ahkdul’s wife.”

  He gritted his teeth. “Not yet.”

  “You would do well to forget about unimportant matters and concentrate on your calling.”

  “The mahktashaan swear an oath to protect the royal family. That pig is hurting her.”

  “She has passed from the Terlaani royal family into the Verdaani line.”

  “Someone has to help her.”

  “Your brother holds the blood oath for her.”

  “He’s letting Ahkdul hurt her.”

  Levi lifted a gloved finger. “Her discipline is Lord Ahkdul’s right.”

  Vinsant crossed his arms. “Does that mean you won’t help?”

  Turning, Levi bowed to the statue. “She is no longer the responsibility of the mahktashaan. Nor is she yours. Have a care, apprentice. Mahktos takes a dim view of mahktashaan who deal with djinn. For any reason.”

  The statue’s eyes had reverted to inert crystal and gem, so he risked it. “If Father knew –”

  Levi rounded on him. Vinsant was forced to step back or risk the majoria grabbing his robe and dragging him under that dangling hood. “Think you the shah does not?” It wasn’t fair Levi used his size to drive him further back. “The princess has started a war between Terlaan and Myklaan.” Vinsant kept retreating. “A war you are in part responsible for.” He shortened his steps, just so the majoria wasn’t in complete control. “His Majesty Shah Wilshem is thankful the Verdaani do not renege on their deal to take her off his hands.”

  Vinsant pulled the hood over the mussed-up spikes of his hair, and turned from Levi as the blood rushed from his face. Levi was not going to see how devastated he felt. Kordahla was in trouble and he had promised her he would protect her. If Father and the mahktashaan refused to help, it was up to him. Only, to do anything he had to get out of these mines. “I apologise, Majoria. I did not understand the consequences of my actions. All praise to Mahktos. All honour to you.” Pushed past the lump in his throat, the words were too flat to sound sincere, but it was all he could manage.

  “Mahktos will judge your actions.” Levi held out the quartz. Vinsant took it without turning, strung it around his neck and offered a silent thank you. So far, the god had been kinder than Levi ever was. “Come.”

  After bowing to Mahktos, they continued to the other side of the chamber. Rosemary leaves crunched under their boots, releasing intense bursts of fragrance. Now the worry of his execution was unfounded, Vinsant discovered half his queasiness was from a gnawing hunger. He was considering begging a meal when a prickly sensation on the back of his neck drew his glance to the second statue. It was odd one crimson eye was following his passage, and odder yet the other eye was closed. He hoped it meant the god intended to turn a blind eye to his actions.

  “Majoria, why are there three statues of Mahktos?”

  “As the caverns outdate the mahktashaan, so does the statue.”

  Vinsant’s eyes went wide. The statue was nothing like the crude pictograms in the outer caves. The best artisans today would struggle to match its craftsmanship. “But you must have an idea. I mean mahktashaan lore must hint at the reason.”

  “Your masters will impart the lore when you are ready.”

  “But three. That’s the Vae, isn’t it?”

  Levi stopped.

  Vinsant hid a grin. Minoria Arun had hinted that thought was valued among these men. “Mahktos existed long before they ever did. So…” Levi remained silent. “They’re connected to him in some way, aren’t they?” He scrutinised the statue. “The eye.” It was an odd shape.

  “The eye is missing. Majoria Guntek closed the lids in deference to our god.”

  Another mystery. Once Kordahla was safe he was going to return here and ferret out the secrets of this place. Even if he had to cause havoc and get himself another eight-day’s punishment to do it. “Does Apprentice Master Branak know the legend?” Branak of the amber crystal was the only mahktashaan Vinsant knew who relished questions. Too bad he would have to wait until he returned to Tarana Palace to ask.

  “In time, apprentice.” Levi began walking again. “For now there is a day left of your original punishment –”

  “A day?!”

  “In his bid to protect you from your recklessness, Fenz knocked you out cold. You have been unconscious for two days.”

  No wonder his stomach was grumbling. Less wonder his leg had come good. “What’s my latest punishment?” Given the extent of his folly, he had no doubt it would be an exacting one. He sure hoped it didn’t involve fasting.

  The majoria was silent until they reached an arch framing one of the many crude passages leading out of the temple. Fenz was waiting there, ready to shackle him. Vinsant sighed.

  “You will serve as a prisoner the two days you have lain idle and another beside. On top of that you will remain in the mines for however long it takes you to find a quartz of a similar hue to your own.”

  “Majoria, the boy has just apprenticed. He is nowhere near ready,” Fenz protested.

  “But,” Vinsant complained. He would be picking at the rock for the rest of his life. As far as he knew, crimson quartz was unheard of. “It’s Father, isn’t it? This is his punishment.”

  “All praise to Mahktos,” Levi said, closing the conversation. He glided through the arch.

  “You can’t keep me here forever,” Vinsant said to Levi’s back.

  Levi didn’t bother turning. “You protest, apprentice?”

  Vinsant bit his tongue before Levi really did force him to spend the rest of his days in drudgery. “All praise to Mahktos. All honour to you, Majoria,” he intoned in a dull and weary voice. He was feeling quite ill.

  Chapter 3

  THE DARK, MUSTY hours dragged on as Timak lay squashed inside the camphor-drenched chest. When hunger gnawed, he worked a hand under the scratchy woollens until he found a piece of the jerky he had hidden weeks ago. He chewed, slept, woke, ate. Slept and woke again. In this forgotten corner of the Myklaani palace only the scurry of a rat across the dusty floor broke the steady rasp of his breaths.

  When the ache in his belly grew unbearable, he patted the bedding. His store was gone. Nothing remained except the few crumbs he had brushed from his lips. He didn’t know how long he had been in here so he didn’t know if Lord Ahkdul the Beast had left. A tear trickled down his cheek. If Ahkdul had gone, he had taken the princess.

  It won’t be such torture for me, she had said. He wouldn’t dare.

  T
imak had seen the lie in her eye.

  He raised his hands to the warped wood of the lid and pushed. Nothing budged. He wriggled a foot up and kicked at the top. The dull thud didn’t move anything, so he squeezed around onto his side, and levered his shoulder against the lid. All that effort only bruised him. Breathing hard, he beat his fists against the wood. A splinter slid into his finger. On top of not knowing if his torturer had left, not knowing if the brute had taken the princess, not knowing if anyone was ever going to find him, the pain was too much to bear. Timak turned his face into the softest woollens and sobbed.

  It could have been minutes or hours before he heard Yazmine’s voice. “You can stop crying. He’s gone now.”

  Timak sniffed and peeped through a crack in the wood. His genie friend was a muted ball of light shining in the middle of the room.

  “It’s safe to come out.”

  Timak pushed against the lid. “I’m stuck.”

  She bobbed closer. “The clasps have fallen down.”

  “Can you open them?”

  “No. Not without. . . No.”

  He wriggled into a more comfortable position. “Sing to me.” He loved hearing her sing, almost as much as he had loved his mama’s voice. Her tunes were like an echo of happiness.

  She hummed a few bars of a lullaby his mama used to sing.

  Drift on the wind, drift away

  Butterfly flit all the day

  “I can’t remember the rest,” she admitted after repeating the chorus a few times.

  It didn’t matter. He was choking on the memory of drifting to sleep with Mama stroking his hair.

  “This isn’t helping you,” she said.

  “It’s okay. I’m fine here,” he rasped. He meant it, too. It was better if no one ever found him. Death out of Lord Ahkdul’s grasp would be a relief. He curled up as best he could, and prepared to wait out the time until he passed to the Vae. It could not be long now. His throat was searing from thirst, his muscles were burning from cramp, chills rippled down his hot body, and the lullaby haunted him.